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im-a-wonderling · 3 years

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Emergency Room, Part 1 ~ Bucky Barnes

A big thank you to @writing-on-the-wahl for the beta read and encouragement. Seriously, I wouldn’t have written this without her.

Summary: Y/N is an ER nurse with Tony as her emergency contact, only when called about an emergency, Tony sends Bucky instead.

Word count: 4.3k

Emergency Room Masterlist

When I arrived at the makeshift infirmary in the Avenger’s compound, Tony was waiting for me at the door. “Y/N,” he said with relief, holding out a hand to shake mine. “Thanks for coming in on a Sunday.”

Grime smudged his face, and the dark circles under his eyes jumped out at me. They must’ve just made it back to the compound, or he would’ve already cleaned himself up. Not for the first time did I wonder what the team did whenever they left this tower.

But my curiosity didn’t match my security clearance, so I rolled my sleeves up. “What’ve we got?”

He stepped aside to let me in, and I saw Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes sitting on separate exam chairs. They all looked exhausted, but Clint and Steve both waved upon seeing me, good natured until the end.

Bucky, however, merely watched me with a flat stare, the attention making my heart jump a little as he tracked my every movement. I went to the sink to wash my hands, hiding my face from view.

It didn’t matter that he was always among the injured when I came here to patch up the Avengers: he’d never said a word to me, only nodding yes or no. I’d long since wondered if I’d offended him somehow, a thought that deflated me whenever I considered how highly everyone thought of him around here.

Considering Clint was the only one injured with a normal healing rate, I went to him first.

“Where does it hurt?” I asked Clint, and he held up his wrist. “What did you do?”

“Tried to break my fall.”

“How far did you fall?” I asked.

“That’s classified,” Tony piped up.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead moving on to other questions. “Did you hear or feel a snap?” Clint shook his head. “Is there numbness or tingling in your fingers?” He shook his head again. I carefully started probing the joint. “How are Laura and the kids?” I asked, trying to distract him.

He broke out in a grin. “They’re great, thanks for asking, though Laura thinks my idea to deep fry the turkey for Thanksgiving this year is stupid.”

I chuckled, opening the cabinet where the tape, bandages, and braces were kept. Tony kept the infirmary better stocked than most ERs, a fact of which I was endlessly jealous. If I could treat the traumas here, patient survival rates would go through the roof.

“Well, if the influx of patients we get every holiday says anything, I'm inclined to agree with your wife,” I said, pulling out a brace.

Clint hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I suppose tradition isn’t always something to be messed with. How’s the ER treating you?”

I smiled, retrieving an ice pack from the fridge. “There’s never a dull moment in the ER, especially when it’s short staffed.” Carefully setting the ice pack on his wrist, I handed him the brace. “Wear the brace, rest it, and ice it for twenty minutes every few hours, okay?”

“No fancy cast for my kids to sign?” Clint quipped, holding up the brace.

“Sorry, no. There seems to be no obvious deformity, so I’m assuming it’s just a sprain.”

Clint nodded, and I moved on to Steve.

“Where does it hurt?” I asked him, and he stuck out his leg, showing me the bloody bandages wrapped around his thigh. “What happened?”

“Gunshot. I pulled the bullet out in the field, but I probably lost a lot of blood.” He was so casual, one could’ve thought he was discussing what he needed from the grocery store.

Then again, gunshot wounds were probably routine for all the Avengers.

I snapped on a pair of disposable blue gloves before unraveling the bandages. The bleeding had already stopped. I shook my head. “I wish all my patients had superhuman healing.”

Steve chuckled as I got to work. “Short staffed, huh? Sounds miserable.”

“Well, the plus side of working in the ER means no one stays for long. Either they’re moved to a different floor, or we patch them up and send them home. Even the dangerous patients aren’t around for very long.”

“Dangerous?”

I turned towards the word, wondering who’d come in without my noticing, but the only newcomer was the frown on Bucky’s face. It took me a few moments to realize he was the one who’d spoken.

I tried to school my shocked features into a more neutral expression, clearing my throat. “Danger...uh, comes with the job.” I turned back to Steve, trying to get my head back in the game. “I’m going to clean it up as best I can, but it’s gonna hurt.”

Steve nodded grimly, and I opened a drawer near me, taking out packets of alcohol wipes and a clean roll of bandages.

I ripped open the first wipe and started cleaning the dried streams of blood underneath the wound. “How’s Sharon?”

A soft blush dusted Steve’s cheeks. “She’s alright,” he murmured, looking at the floor. “We’ve both been kinda busy.”

“Busy’s something I can understand,” I said with a sigh, cleaning higher.

“I keep telling him he needs to grow a pair and ask her to move in,” Clint cut in, absentmindedly running his fingers over the brace on his arm.

“I don’t want to move too quickly,” Steve mumbled. “It’s only been a few months.”

“Yeah, it could be that,” Clint said lightly. “Or it could be that the cap thinks it’s unorthodox to live with a woman before marriage.”

“I don’t think it’s unorthodox!” Steve protested, his voice several pitches too high.

I smothered a smile. “Sharon’s a modern woman, isn’t she? I’m sure she’s cool with it. Maybe she’s even lived with a boyfriend before.”

Steve frowned. “I’m gonna try not to think about that.”

I chuckled and threw away the dirty wipes, taking the bandage and wrapping it tight enough to stay secure but not so tight as to cut off the circulation. “With your healing rates, that should be healed after a couple nights sleep. Just avoid soaking it, no baths or swimming.”

Steve nodded with a friendly smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Tony cleared his throat from behind me. “Steve and Clint, why don’t we go and get something to eat? Let Y/N take care of Bucky, hmm?”

I looked behind me in time to see the three men exchange a look that I couldn’t quite understand.

“Sure, let’s go,” said Clint, in a lighthearted voice that sounded vaguely forced. Steve and Clint got to their feet and followed Tony out the door...

...leaving me alone with Bucky.

I shakily removed my gloves and tossed them in the trash can before approaching Bucky. “Wh-where does it hurt?” I asked, trying not to be angry with myself for stammering. Usually the more nervous I was with a patient, the more stoic I became.

These nerves were of a different kind.

Bucky didn’t say anything, just reached behind him with his synthetic arm and pulled the shirt over his head.

If my nerves had been unsettled before, they were completely frazzled now.

I was a nurse; I’d seen countless patients fully nude, let alone shirtless, yet I didn’t know where to look or how to hold myself. His tanned skin and tight abs somehow felt like the elephant in the room.

I shook myself, trying to shake my head back into the land of professionalism.

One of Bucky’s sides was badly bruised, a massive, angry red and purple mark that made me slightly nauseous when I imagined how painful it was.

But already, the edge of the ugly bruise was turning green, signaling healing.

“Are there no jobs that pay better?” Bucky asked, taking me away from my train of thought.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your job.”

“Oh...well, it’s not about the pay,” I replied, lightly running my fingers over the bruised skin to check his pain response. The skin in between his eyebrows furrowed, but that was his only indication of pain. “If it was about money, I would’ve accepted Mr. Stark’s six figure offer and moved into a room here on the compound.”

“Why is it dangerous?” Bucky asked, his tone clipped as I started to palpate the skin.

“Ummm...some patients throw a punch every now and then.” Bucky tensed, but I couldn’t tell if it was in response to what I was saying or pain. “But that’s what security is for.”

He stayed silent as I finished my examination. “This should heal soon too,” I told him, turning around to wash my hands. “Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do to help, unless you want something for the pain?”

When he didn’t respond, I turned to look at him. “Bucky?”

“I don’t like the idea of you in danger,” he said quietly, fingers—metal and skin—nervously fingering the shirt in his hands.

I blinked, surprised at his concern. “I’m not in danger. Not really.”

I thought I caught sight of a frown as he pulled his shirt back his head, but I dismissed it. He couldn’t be worried about me, he barely knew me.

Jarvis spoke up, causing me to jump. “Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Stark would like to invite you to dinner with the Avengers tonight.”

“Thank him for the offer, Jarvis, but I’ll be late for my shift tonight if I don’t leave now.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait.” A hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me back around to face Bucky who was now standing. “Just...be safe,” he murmured, his cold fingers nearly making me gasp as he ran a hand down my arm to link hands.

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I scolded myself for being so transparent. I cleared my throat. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be aright.”

He watched me warily for a moment before nodding and letting me go.

I stood there for a moment, staring stupidly at him before shaking myself back into reality.

I was going to be late for work.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes trained on me as I left the room.

I reached the ER fifteen minutes early instead of my regular twenty minutes. Changing into my scrubs and clocking in took five minutes, and I didn’t want the nurses to feel rushed when giving me their report.

The more freedom I had to ask questions, the more tips and tricks I learned with how to deal with patients, particularly the difficult ones.

As the nurse with tired eyes gave me the report, I was surprised at how many rooms were full. Sunday nights weren’t usually this busy. The busiest time of week, unless there was a holiday, was Mondays.

I didn’t know if statistically people got sick more often on weekdays or if people really didn’t want to come to the hospital on a weekend, but during the day shift on Mondays, the ER was slammed.

The nurse said goodbye and left, leaving me with 5 patients to deal with.

Time to get to work.

Eleven hours later, the sun was streaming in through the ambulance bay doors, the only signal that it was almost 07:00. Just a little bit longer, and I could go home to my bed and sleep.

Just a little while longer.

Stifling a yawn, I pulled back the curtain in room 4 and got to work starting an IV.

IVs were my favorite. There was something so beautiful about the whole process of creating a pathway into the body’s own circulatory system to help the body heal itself.

It was almost...magical.

After bringing the doctor to room 7 and ordering a CT scan for room 4, I sat down to start on the discharge for room 6.

Tyler, one of the day shift nurses, arrived and efficiently relieved one of the other nurses after getting her report.

I wistfully watched the nurse clock out and walk out of the department with tired steps. I glanced at my watch. 0658. It seemed the day shift nurse did not share my same affinity for being early.

I was about to log out of my computer when I saw the house supervisor trooping down the hallway. It was obvious from her face that she was nervous. She walked straight up to Tyler.

“What’s up, Cathy?” Tyler chirped.

“You’re the only nurse scheduled for today. The other two scheduled for today resigned last week.” She started to wring her hands. “I alerted the float pool nurses on call for today, but none have responded so far.”

Tyler’s happy demeanor melted away, and he gulped. “Ah. Well, then. Okay, thanks for telling me. I...I can handle it.”

“No,” I blurted, causing them both to turn to me.

What was I doing? I was exhausted, hungry, and starting to smell. I needed to mind my own business and let them figure it out.

But the hopeful look on Tyler’s face made me stand straighter.

“I’ll stay.” The house supervisor opened her mouth to argue, but I shot her a glare and crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving Tyler on his own with only a few CNAs to deal with a Monday morning rush.”

“You’re not supposed to work a double shift,” the house supervisor mumbled, not meeting my eyes.

I stuck my chin out stubbornly. “It’s not the first, and it won’t be the last.”

The house supervisor reluctantly nodded and left.

Tyler slapped me on the back. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I mumbled as the call light for room 8 lit up.

The night shift had been long and trying, but the day shift passed slower than I could’ve ever thought possible.

Come 0830, the waiting room was so full, family members were having to give up their seats for other patients. And they just kept coming.

The cases were starting to get muddled together in my head.

One suspected case of meningitis, a pediatric case of persistent seizures, five or six adults down with the stomach flu, a couple sprained ankles and wrists, a suspected overdose, two heart attacks, a few minor car accidents, and still more I couldn’t remember.

It’d been so busy, I hadn’t even gotten a break for lunch.

Finally sitting down at my computer to update my charts, I glanced at the clock.

1732.

One and a half more hours, then I’d be done.

I sighed, resting my forehead on the desk. It wouldn’t be safe for me to drive myself home at this point, not being this exhausted. I could take a shower in the locker room, then sleep in the on call room. Maybe I’d even get some food from the cafeteria.

My stomach turned at the idea of the cafeteria food.

I refocused on updating the patient charts and finalizing room 8′s discharge papers, but my stomach continued to churn. Maybe I needed to take a break.

Michelle, one of the CNAs, came into view. “Y/N, Dr. Cook ordered an EKG for room 6.”

I got to my feet and stumbled as the room started to spin slightly. I blinked hard, and my vision stabilized.

“Hello, ma’am,” I said with a smile as I dragged the EKG machine into the room. “I’m here to do your EKG.”

“Hun, you don’t look so good,” the kindly old woman replied.

I forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Mrs. Matlack, we’re here to take care of you.”

It took me twice as long to run the EKG as it normally did, but thankfully, the general public did not know how long it took to run an EKG. Mrs. Matlack chatted about this and that, keeping herself occupied with chatter as I placed the leads. I finished up, and wheeled the machine out, promising that the doctor would look at her results and be by to talk to her.

My vision swayed again as I pulled the EKG machine towards the supply closet, swiping my badge in front of the reader and pushing the door open.

Suddenly, everything pitched to one side, and I lost my balance. I threw out my hands to grab something to hold myself up.

Instead, my body slammed into the floor.

It took everyone much longer than anticipated to find me on the closet floor. No matter how loudly I proclaimed I never lost consciousness, they’d forced me to get a CT scan.

Wearing a hospital gown that showed my butt was humiliating, nevermind the fact that all of my coworkers kept popping in to check on me.

“No, don’t put me in a room,” I moaned as Michelle wheeled me into room 8. “The rooms are for the patients.”

“You are a patient.” She helped me to my feet and onto the bed.

I’d never admit it, but it felt so good to lay down. My eyes fell closed. It hurt to have my eyes closed, and somehow, simultaneously, I couldn’t make them open. I heard the scrape of the curtain being pulled back. “Really,” I told Michelle, “this is overkill. I’m fine.”

“Overkill, huh?” said a male voice.

My sore eyes flew open, and I was sure they were deceiving me because Bucky stood in the doorway, arms folded as he looked me up and down.

Even in my exhausted state, I still couldn’t help noticing the black leather jacket he wore, the neat facial hair, and the gloves he wore to hide his metal hand. He leaned against the wall with a casual air, but I could see the grit of his jaw and the angry set of his lips.

With that expression, combined with his outfit, he looked ready to knife somebody in an alleyway.

“Bucky?” I croaked. My voice was uncharacteristically hoarse, which had absolutely nothing to do with the full-body scan his eyes were currently conducting. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes continued on their path, checking for blood, bruises, or limbs going in the wrong direction. “Apparently, Stark is your emergency contact, and he was in the middle of an important meeting, so he asked me to come.” He pushed off the wall and gingerly sat beside me, glancing up at the heart monitor. “Are you okay?”

I started to sit up. “I’m fine.”

Bucky reached out a hand, pushing me back down on the bed. “People who are fine don’t end up in the ER. What happened?”

“I just got a little lightheaded,” I said while trying and failing to bat away his hand, “that’s all, this is totally unnecessary.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “If the trained medical professionals think you need to be checked out, then you need to be checked out.”

“I’m a trained medical professional.”

Bucky had just enough time to shake his head before Tyler bustled into the room, holding the supplies for an IV.

“Nuh uh.” I wagged my finger back and forth. “Don’t waste your time doing an IV on me, I can do it myself.” I held out my hands expectantly.

“Your hands are shaking,” Bucky said quietly. “You really want to stick yourself with a needle?”

I shot him a glare. “Fine, but at least let a nursing student try it, they’re the ones that need the practice.”

Tyler scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t take orders from the person who thought it’d be a good idea to work a double shift.”

“Traitor,” I mumbled.

“You’ve been working since I last saw you?” Bucky asked, disbelief written all over his face. I didn’t say anything, which was answer enough. “Y/N, it’s been over 22 hours!”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” I replied sarcastically.

“She didn’t get a lunch break either,” Tyler disclosed.

“Thank you, Tyler.” I shot him a glare, hoping he’d get the point.

Bucky let out a quick and quiet huff. “Y/N, what were you thinking?”

“We’re short-staffed! What was I supposed to do, just leave?”

Bucky shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “You’re crazy.”

“That’s mean,” I grumbled back as Tyler readied the needle. “I prefer the term ‘dedicated’.”

After Tyler finished the IV, he told me he was going to go find Dr. Cook to give me the all clear and left.

I fidgeted with the hospital gown, unsettled to see myself in the garb of our patients. “You don’t have to stay,” I told Bucky, feeling awkward that Tony hadn’t given him much of a choice in the matter. “I can take care of myself.”

“Why’s Stark your emergency contact?”

I scratched my neck. “Well...I don’t have any family in the area. Not too many friends outside of work either. When I started working for Tony, Jarvis alerted him to the fact that I had no emergency contact, and Tony insisted I put him down.”

Bucky chuckled. “Sounds like Stark.”

It was quiet for a few moments, nothing but the light beeping noises of the heart monitors drifting into the room.

“I thought you’d been attacked,” Bucky confessed, looking down at his gloved hands that rested in his lap. “When Tony said you were in trouble, I pictured the worst.” A crease appeared between his eyebrows, and suddenly, he looked like the family members I’d always interacted with in this hospital.

The worry bordering on distress.

It was the most emotion I’d ever seen from him, and I felt so unnerved, I couldn’t figure out how to respond.

Bucky shook his head, looking up at me. “Then, I find out that you did this to yourself.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” I interjected, even as my stomach twisted at his displeasure. “It’s nothing that a little sleep and food won’t cure.”

As if my words had summoned him, Dr. Cook bustled into the room, giving me the discharge papers to sign.

It took me nearly fifteen minutes to change out of my hospital gown and into my scrubs, but I refused to ask anyone for help. I’d been humbled enough for one day, I was not about to ask Tyler or, heaven forbid, Bucky, for help.

When I’d finished threading my arms through the sleeves of my scrubs, I sat back down on the bed. “I’m done,” I called, my voice strangely quiet.

The curtain was yanked aside and Bucky came in, slinging my work bag over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“I have your jacket,” he said by way of greeting. I held my hands out for it, but he merely held it open for me to thread my arms through the sleeves.

I was suddenly reminded of being a kid while my mom helped me shrug on my coat, and the reminder made me wrinkle my nose.

He didn’t seem to notice, his eyes following the zipper as he zipped it up halfway. “Can you walk?” he asked gently.

“Can I walk?” I scoffed under my breath, pushing myself to my feet.

For a moment, I stood eye-level with the flat look on Bucky’s face. But then my knees gave out, and I tried to grab onto the bed.

Two arms shot out and caught me, holding me up.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, struggling to hold my head up. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bucky slid an arm under my legs and easily pulled me into his arms. “I got you.”

“But what about your ribs?” I protested. “Aren’t you in pain?”

Bucky looked down at me with a fond smile. “Don’t be dramatic,” he quoted back at me, making me chuckle.

Giving in, I looped my arms around his neck, resting my heavy head on his chest.

He carried me out of the ER, walking towards a bright yellow sports car I recognized as Tony’s. I distantly wondered if Tony suggested Bucky take something other than his motorcycle or if he was blissfully unaware of the car’s current location.

“Wait,” I mumbled, pointing at my car parked in employee parking. “That’s my car, I have to drive it home.”

Bucky tucked his chin in to look at me. “You don’t actually expect me to let you drive in this state, do you?”

“But-“

“Tell you what, if you can stand for a minute straight, I’ll let you drive yourself.”

“Mean,” I mumbled into his jacket.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

Depositing me in the passenger seat, he gently closed the door.

My eyes fell shut on the way home, and I rested my cheek on the arm rest, relishing the fact that I could finally close my eyes.

At one point, I thought I felt a hand brush against my own, but I was too tired to look. It wasn’t until I heard the car door open and shut that I blearily looked up to see the inside of Tony’s garage.

“Wait,” I said weakly as Bucky opened my door and scooped me up into his arms. “This isn’t my place.”

“No, you’re staying in the compound tonight.” Any protest of mine was swallowed up as I yawned so large, my jaw cracked.

Bucky carried me into the elevator, pushing the button for the fourth floor.

All the guest rooms were on the second floor.

“Wait,” I said weakly, “I don’t want to intrude. You already had to wait with me and drive me here, it’s not fair on you.”

Bucky shushed me gently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But what if the others see me? I patch you guys up, you guys shouldn’t see me like this.”

“What did I just say?” Bucky said, not unkindly. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you.” The doors dinged open, and Bucky carried me down the hallway to his room, managing to open the door with one hand.

I felt him lay me down on something soft, and I opened my eyes to see him untying the laces of my shoes. “I don’t want to take the bed,” I protested, struggling to keep my eyes open. “You have to sleep too.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he pulled the covers over me, scrubs and all. “It won’t kill me to sleep on the floor.”

I was quickly losing consciousness. “But you…you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Sleep. I’ve got you.”

I could’ve sworn I felt a gentle caress on my forehead, but I was asleep before I could finish the thought.

Part 2

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3rensgf · 3 years

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stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

#Bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #avengers fluff #the avengers #marvel #marvel fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #fatws

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bakusquad-assemble · 3 years

Text

The Conference room

Genre: enemies to “lovers”, but they’re both emotionally stunted and don’t know how to express themselves.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x bratty fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, degradation, hate sex, Bakugou catching feelings

Word count: 4.7k

Description: Reader is a pro-hero tasked with working with her worst nightmare; Bakugou Katsuki. The two of them have never seen eye to eye, making it impossible to get anything accomplished. But when Bakugou jumps at her from across the table, things take an unexpected turn.

A/N: had an idea and ran with it! I’m a total sucker for enemies to lovers so I had to indulge! While this can be read as a one shot, I also wouldn’t be opposed to making it a series? Lemme know what you guys think! This is my first time writing anything like this, so please be kind.

“God, you’re insufferable, you know that?” You rolled your eyes, falling back into your chair with an exasperated huff. There were a few things that you didn’t enjoy about being a Pro hero, like the long hours and the lack of privacy, but this absolutely took the cake.

Bakugou Katsuki, or Dynamight as he was known to the public, sat in front of you clad in simple business attire with the nastiest scowl plastered on his dumb face. The two of your agencies had found themselves working together due to an influx in connected crime, and it had been the absolute worst thing you had ever experienced. The two of you had never seen eye to eye in the best of times, constantly teasing and bickering whenever you were in each other's presence, but having to work side by side with the explosive hero was like pulling teeth without any numbing agent. The two of you just didn’t mesh well together, constantly fighting for dominance of the situation, and it made for a very tense working environment for everyone involved. You were currently in the middle of coming up with an infiltration plan for a big villain hide-out, and Bakugou kept fighting you at every turn. He shot down every single one of your ideas, but had not yet made one himself. He was infuriating, and you wanted nothing more than to just walk out of the conference room and never speak to him again. You knew that was impossible though. People's lives were at stake and you weren’t selfish enough to let your discomfort affect your hero work.

Bakugou clicked his tongue at you, only adding to your frustration.

“You’re one to fucking talk!” He snarled in your direction, his hands balled into fists on top of the white marble table placed between you two.

“You haven’t come up with one usuable fucking plan all day!” His words were like venom, corroding your patience with every syllable. He had to be joking.

“Do you really have your head shoved so far up your own ass?” You started, the prominent look of detest written on your features.

“If my ideas are such shit, i'd like to see you come up with a better one! Or is that outside your levels of expertise? Does that brain of yours even have a rational mode or is it all just explosions and violence.” You could see his eyebrow twitching in anger at your words, and for some reason that excited you beyond belief. You loved getting under his skin, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was cathartic in a way, watching him squirm.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He spat viciously from across the table, his fists banging on the surface like an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum. This time it was you clicking your tongue.

“I rest my case. I should have known working with you was going to be nothing but hell. Some pro hero you are, can’t even make a simple infiltration plan without throwing a fit.” Bakugou growled loudly, and you couldn’t help but akin his behavior to that of a feral animal.

“Will you shut the fuck up!” He seethed, but you were unfazed. You simply leaned back in your seat with an excited grin, crossing your arms over your chest as you did so. You weren't sure why arguing with the explosive man gave you such a rush of adrenaline, but you needed more. It was as if his words of resentment were a highly addictive drug, and you were itching for your next fix.

“Aww what's wrong, can’t handle a little bit of criticism?” Your confidence rang through the air like gun fire, piercing and tearing at Bakugou's skin. He was heated, you could tell by the way his pale skin flushed and how the faint smell of caramel assaulted your senses as he let off a few pops of his quirk in his fists. If you hadn’t known the man in front of you, perhaps you would have been intimidated by his crude actions, but you knew Bakugou would never lay a hand on you. No matter how heated your arguments got.

This certainly wasn’t the first time you had argued like this, it happened to be a recurring theme for the both of you whenever you were in the same room, but today something felt different. The tension laid heavy between you two, tangible, but it was laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint; A warmth pooling in your stomach.

“I said shut the hell up!” He screamed, standing up from his chair in a huff. You had pushed him too far, letting your teasing nature get the better of you as it had been known to do. Yet, instead of dropping it, moving on with your work, you persisted. You poked the bear once more, but this time in a way that surprised even you. You locked eyes with his piercing crimson ones, rising from your chair with formidable authority. Your chin tilting up ever so slightly as you spoke, letting the warmth in your stomach take over.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me, Dynamight”

Bakugou froze, and you couldn’t help but smirk victoriously. You knew the teasing tone would be enough to fluster him, to shut him down and win the argument so you could get back to working in silence. What you weren’t expecting was the way his breath caught in his throat, or the fervent blush that crept up his neck and consumed his features. And you certainly were not expecting the way your face reciprocated immediately upon sight. The palpable tension consuming the two of you, and the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was not the feeling of complete and utter disdain that always lingered there, but instead something far worse. The warmth that had been bubbling in your lower abdomen was now yelling at you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling had always been there, simply lurking under the guise of hatred. Your eyes took in his features with a new glazed expression, subconsciously nibbling at your lower lip as you did so. The way you could see his heart hammer in his chest made you question if he was feeling the same sensation you currently were.

Your mind didn’t have much time to process that thought however, because within an instant Bakugou was throwing himself at you from across the table. His mouth on yours in seconds and his hands gripped at the back of your head to hold you tightly into the kiss, as if trying to relish in a fleeting moment. It was like a shock wave of intensity took over you, throwing all caution to the wind, and you found yourself kissing back with unexpected heat before you even had time to think. He slammed your smaller frame against the cold concrete of the office wall and you couldn't control the small yelp that slipped into his mouth. He had no idea why he was doing this. Why did your words have such an impact on him? Whatever had possessed him in the moment seemed to have taken hold of you as well. He wasn’t expecting you to kiss back with such fervor, in fact, he was fully convinced he was going to earn himself a solid punch to the mouth. But that wasn’t the case, and it made him question if those flirtatious and subtle sexual nuances had always littered your vocabulary, or if it had been a heat of the moment thing for you as well. One thing he knew for certain was that he had always found you enticing. The way you quipped back at him with ease, moving through his words as if you were bullet proof. His insults never penetrating your perfect complexion. And the way you would smirk at him, it was intoxicating. The way you knew just how to get under his skin. He hated it, and even though he’d hate to admit it, he loved it so much more.

His rough and calloused hands kept a firm grip on you, finally getting a chance to enjoy that perfect frame up close and personal. Your hands tangled up in his ash blonde locks, pulling at them roughly and putting space between your mouths so that your lips were just barely hovering above his lower one. Even still he could feel the delicious grin that overtook your features at the involuntary whimper that escaped his lips from the lack of contact. It wasn’t long before he was pulling against you to initiate the kiss again, and you did nothing to stop him, allowing him to dive back in and devour those sweet and supple bruised lips of yours once more. God, how he had always wanted this. He let his pelvis grind into yours, his hand finding its home on your hip to pull you in closer, forcing a moan to creep its way out of your throat. He wasn’t sure what had come over him; repression, pent up sexual tension, pure feral instinct, but he just couldn’t control himself. Especially not when such a lewd and sweet sounding moan cascaded from your lips like that. He had to have you now.

The faint noise of the lock clicking behind him rang in his ears like one of his explosions, and he found his head whipping in this direction of the noise as if expecting to see someone witnessing something they weren’t supposed to. Instead he saw the faint golden glow of your quirk, and upon rounding his eyes back to you, saw everything that he needed to know written on your features. You had locked it over his shoulders using your psychokinetic quirk. He chuckled darkly above your lips, before swooping back in hungrily, taking your actions as a nonverbal cue to continue. You couldn’t get enough of his taste. The sickly-sweet sensation taking over your senses, and by the way he kissed you, you could only guess you were just as intoxicating to him. Your hips moved on their own accord, desperate to feel his hard cock rubbing against you through the slack of his pants, but you could feel the resistance from the blondes firm grip on your hips. You needed more of him, wanted to get rid of this disgusting heat inside of you. You knew he noticed how much you ached for him too, you could sense it in the way his ego grew in his chest with every movement. He was always so perceptive, and you hated that about him. How dare he be able to control you like this. Have this domineering hold around you that you most certainly did not allow in your daily life. You never took his shit. Never put up with his bitching. Yet here you were, horny and writhing in his grasp, desperate for his twitching cock to fill you up.

“What’s the matter, princess?” His husky voice cut through the room. The teasing nickname you detested grating at your senses and finding a new feeling bubbling up deep inside your abdomen. God, you fucking hated him.

“Don’t have anything else to fucking say?” He ground his hips against yours again, eliciting the same noise of wanting to come crashing around the two of you. You tried your best to suppress it this time, not wanting to give him the sheer satisfaction of knowing just how much he had you under his spell right now, but the noise forced its way out as a high pitched whimper. You felt the way his cock twitched against your heat, only adding to your sheer desire. Your head fell back against the wall as you bit harshly at your lip. How could you be so weak for this man that not even ten minutes ago you absolutely despised with everything in your being. He took that as an answer.

“Did I finally find a fucking way to shut you up, dumbass?” He whispered into your ear, the soft wetness overtaking your senses and filling you with pure adrenaline. His hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head like you had done to his only moments before, exposing your neck so that he could trail rough kisses down to your collarbone. Biting and nipping at the soft skin.

“If you want my cock so bad, beg for it. “ It was like a light switch had gone off in your brain at that very moment. You couldn’t let him win, Let him talk to you like this. No matter how much it made your juices pool in your panties like some kind of whore in heat, you couldn’t let him embarrass you like this.

“In your dreams, you fucking pervert.” you spat viciously, a salacious smile biting at your features. Bakugou's head rounded to meet your eyes, an interested smirk over taking his features.

“Huh? What did you say to me?” The venom was tangible, but it did nothing to deter you from spitting back again. This time the smirk on your lips growing into a confident one, even through your ragged pants of need.

“I said...in your fucking dreams. “ putting emphasis on each word He growled into your skin, vibrating your body with his raw and feral rage.

“You fuckin’ brat.”

You knew you had just signed your death warrant but you didn’t care, in fact, it only aroused you more. You needed to feel him inside of you. You needed the release. It was as if the room was spinning and the only thing that was keeping you grounded was the aching between your legs. The desperate need to feel something. You felt his grip grow tighter on you and before you knew it your face was pressed up against the cold wall in an instant. Bakugou's hand laid on the back of your head, gripping at your hair and pushing your face against the concrete, the other tightly locked on your hip, keeping your soaking cunt up against the hard bulge in his pants. You felt your body buck against it subconsciously, sending another shockwave of pleasure pulsing through your body, and his.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed into your ear. The hand that laid in your hair coiled itself around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly as he brought your head closer to his. You let out a slight gasp, but still a smirk laid ever present on your face.

“Good.”

His free hand made quick work of your soaking panties, pushing them to the side under the hem of your pencil skirt. One of his thick digits slipping against your wet folds before situating itself inside without much warning. Even with just his finger you felt so full. The warmth from his hand radiating inside of you and only aiding in your pleasure. Bakugou couldn’t help the noises that escaped his mouth as he worked your pussy with his fingers. The way your walls clamped around them and left them completely soaked only made his need for you grow.

“God, youre so fucking wet for me.” His breathing was erratic, greedy. He had been overcome with lust that he was barely registering what he was saying. Normally situations like this would absolutely fluster Bakugou, or just straight up never happen. Bakugou was always so focused on his hero work that hookups were few and far between, and certainly never quite this passionate. A quick fuck with no return call and that was it. There was just something about you that made his head spin. You were always a challenge, never backing down no matter how brutal his berating and instead firing back at him with such confidence that it caught him off guard more often than not. Sure, it was so infuriating, but he had a thing for strong women. So everytime you spit back with that ungodly sexy smirk of yours, the fire in Bakugou only grew. He never thought he’d see you like this though, never imagining that he would be able to make that pretty little mouth of yours moan out for him, but he had certainly spent countless nights alone with his hand gripped around himself at the very thought. He quickly added another finger as he pounded them into you, causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

“ Yeah, you like that? You little slut.” You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the embarrassment overtake you as your head nodded against his hand like the greedy slut you were. Normally you would never accept words like that to come out of a man's mouth toward you, but there was just something about the way Bakugou said them that had you reeling with anticipation.

He curled his fingers inside of you, toying with your sensitive spot ever so slightly. Did you really think a simple nod was going to satiate his need for praise? He was going to tease you until he got what he wanted.

“What was that?” He smirked against the skin of your neck, nibbling roughly at the sensitive skin. You felt your body jerk against him, sending his fingers deeper into you. You bit your lip hard to suppress the moan that overtook you.

“Just fuck me already, Katsuki! ” you whimpered, his first name feeling foreign in your mouth. You were growing impatient, and even though your words came out as a command, you knew deep down it was desperation. The embarrassment rampantly flooded through your body, turning you a deep shade of pink, but you pushed through it. You couldn’t keep letting him play with you like you were some toy, you had to take what you wanted any way you could. You needed to cum, and you certainly weren’t going to do it on his fingers, no matter how good they felt. You needed the real thing.

“I can’t take it anymore, just fuck me!” You reluctantly begged, trying to look anywhere but at the man behind you. You could feel the shock rush through Bakugou's body at your words, clearly taken aback for a second at your bluntness and hearing his name spill from your lips like that. A wave of determination flooded through his system. He was going to make you scream his name so everyone in the office could hear it, even from the confines of the soundproof meeting room. He quickly let go of you to fiddle with his belt buckle, but you didn’t dare move to look at him. Instead you found solace in rubbing your thighs together. The friction keeping you high, keeping you blind to what was really happening. To the fact that you had just begged Bakugou Katsuki, the biggest piece of shit you have ever met, to fuck you.

You felt the tip of his cock trace your sweet hole for a second, and you braced yourself for agony. You thought he was going to relentlessly tease you, break you, find some way to have you squirming in his grasp and begging again, but instead the feeling of him bottoming out in you quickly overtook all of your senses. He was surprised he had even lasted this long in the foreplay if he was honest. He needed you, needed to feel the way you felt around him. He had fantasized about this for years, what it would feel like to finally have you in such a compromising position, but he was in no way ready for the sheer bliss your walls brought him. You had him reeling. He grunted aggressively against your skin, not moving inside of you as if to take in this sensation. Who knew when it would happen again, or If it would happen again.

“Fuckkk” he whined, and somehow his words alone had you aching for more. If you thought his finger had you feeling full, it was no match for the size of his cock. You couldn’t help but rock back onto him, rotating your hips in a way that had the both of you moaning.

“Katsuki” His name dripped from your lips again like the words sweetest song. There was something about the way you said his first name that had him teetering on the edge. It was so sweet, like honey trickling down the curves of your lips, begging to be savoured, and like hell he was going to deny himself that sweetness. Even if he knew he would probably never get the chance to taste it again. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to pound you into oblivion. He pulled back for a second, his dick sliding out of your entrance and leaving you with a longing and empty feeling after being so full only a second ago. Your eyes widened, about to whimper out in distress at the loss, until the fullness came back to you forcefully. The roughness of his thrust sending your body bumping into the wall in front of you and causing a loud moan to escape your lips. Your hand quickly shot up to your mouth, covering it quickly in the hopes that no one had heard you. You felt Bakugou snicker in your ear, pulling your hand roughly away from its place over your mouth, his hot breath panting heavily onto your skin.

“Let them hear you. Let them hear so they know who you belong to.” He spat out in between thrusts, head clearly spinning from the pure ecstasy you brought him.

“You wish.” you hissed, sending your ass into him to meet his thrusts. Bakugou grit his teeth in pleasure, cursing out under his breath. You were definitely right about that. You were the one person Bakugou knew he would never be able to truly control, but honestly, he didn’t want to. You were a force to be reckoned with, and an absolute powerhouse of a Pro Hero, and he admired you. Just as you did him, in your own little way.

Bakugou brought his open palm down onto your exposed ass with a grin, the pain of his warm hand mixing with the pure ecstasy of his cock and eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, spinning from the sensation. Bakugou found himself groaning with every thrust, unable to force them down. You just felt too good, too addicting, and he needed more; needed to cum. His hand gripped at the back of your hair, pulling your head to the side so that his face was flush up against yours, his mouth inches from your ear. The sound of his erratic breathing and raw grunts of pleasure filled your senses immediately, making the warmth in your stomach bubble with excitement. You weren’t going to last much longer like this.

“Fuck” Your voice came out in a choked whimper, laced with blatant wanton lust.

“Like that, don’t stop.” You commanded, and Bakugou groaned in response. The grip on your hair tightened ever so slightly and you felt his teeth snarl against your ear, nipping at the exposed skin. He could tell you were close by the way your walls clamped around him, making it almost impossible to hold out any longer.

“Yeah” He panted in agreement, his thrusts becoming more unpredictable as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. It didn’t take much before you completely came undone around Bakugou. It was as if your body was floating weightlessly in space, a beautiful expanse of stars and colors blurring your vision, before gravity was quickly pulling you back down to earth abruptly, leaving your legs trembling from the impact.

Your hands subconsciously gripped Bakugou's, savoring in his warmth as you rode out your high around his thrusts, your head spinning with pure ecstasy and adrenaline. Bakugou buried his face into the crook of your neck, as if to hide the flush that had spread across his face from nonexistent eyes. Watching your body tense and shake around him had to be the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in his life, and that was exactly what sent him over the edge.

“F-Fuck” His voice quivered against your skin and you felt his grip grow tighter on your hips, pulling you back into his pelvis to burry himself deeper within you. If you weren’t currently trembling from your own climax, perhaps you would’ve stopped Bakugou from coating your insides, but in the moment you didn’t seem to care. You felt your walls clamp down around him once more, desperately taking everything in without any fear of the consequences it might hold. Bakugou didn’t pull away from you, instead leaving his body flushed up against yours as the two of you attempted to regain your composure.

The room was silent, aside from the panting that still hung close to your ear. The primal lust that had just engulfed the two of you was quickly replaced with confusion, and the room was suddenly too silent. Bakugou pulled away from you at last, and his warmth that had enveloped you just two seconds ago now completely dissipated. You weren’t sure why, but you missed it immediately. It just felt so right, brought you so much comfort, and that very thought alone scared you. You quickly pulled yourself off the wall and rounded to look at the blonde man behind you as he fixed himself up. His face seemed to mimic yours, and you weren’t sure whether or not that was a good or a bad thing, but for the moment it brought you solace. You let out a shaky sigh before straightening the hem of your skirt against your reddened thighs. You could feel his eyes on you, like lasers burning your skin. You quirked an eyebrow up at him, trying your best to muster a smirk while your fingers worked tirelessly at untangling your hair that Bakugou had made a mess of.

Bakugou felt his voice rise in his throat as his eyes finally met with yours once more, he had so many questions; what was that all about? What does this mean for us? Can I take you out for dinner? but all of those questions died in his throat before they made it to his lips. The shake of your head deterring him from letting them out. You didn’t want him to say something he was going to regret, something stupid you say after the high of an orgasm. You weren’t sure what exactly that would’ve been, but you liked it better this way.

“Don’t, your stupid voice is what got us into this mess in the first place.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, calm, as if none of this had shaken you to your core. As if he wasn’t still lingering inside of you. As if you felt absolutely nothing from that encounter. Just another meaningless hook up, that was all. Or at least that was what you tried to tell yourself. You watched as Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, as they did whenever you spoke, but this time it felt off. Laced with something different. It would take you a while to pinpoint that exact feeling, but it would come to you nonetheless. When you were alone in your bed late at night, thinking about the way his eyes glistened, and his body tried to stay steady. Hurt.

You moved towards the tall blonde with a false sense of confidence, though to the unsuspecting eye you never faltered. Your delicate hand moving up to the tall blondes cheek and patting it roughly. The curves of your lips forming into that smirk that Bakugou loved detested so much.

“Leave the planning to me, I don’t really need your help anyway.” Your eyes locked with his for a moment, before you felt the need to break away. To slam the cover shut on those feelings that threatened to spill over the top of Pandora’s box. You sauntered past his form nonchalantly, your hips moving in a hypnotizing form that had Bakugou unable to peel his eyes away.

“Just remember...” You started, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder.

“Meetings in the conference room are confidential.” And with a wink, you quickly turned the handle of the door and made your exit, needing to get away as quickly as possibly so that you could breathe once again. Bakugou still stood at the center of the room, confused and finally at a loss for words. He had no idea how any of that had just happened, or why he felt a heavy pang in his chest as he watched you leave the room seemingly unfazed. But there was one thing he knew for certain, one thing he was determined to do now more than ever; he was going to make you his.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou imagines #bakugou x reader #mha imagines #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #katsuki bakugou #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Note

and, if Albedo have his own personal botanist, what about xiao have his own personal chef, or something like that? the reader working at wangshu inn as the chef or maid 👀 (this the request... If you want to make something from this absurd idea 👀👀)

Hehe I like your thought process, anon. Albedo and Xiao really just: 😏👉👉 *finger guns* 👈👈 😑 for having reader assistants in my masterlist huh.

Making this solely a personal chef/maid thing would defo make this response hella short so I added in more info and background just like I did with Albedo's, so I hope you guys end up enjoying this one too!!

It isn't an absurd idea, but I sure as hell made an absurd answer to it kek

Xiao's Devoted "Chef"

Xiao with a Reader who is not only his Personal Chef but assistant

Background (let's gooo)

The arrival of the Adepti Yaksha in Wangshu Inn was really something I've been intrigued about for a while now, but I won't make much assumptions here because his banner is coming and more info would be given to us.

Xiao had long since been residing in and spends a majority of his time in this Inn yet its owners, Verr Goldet and Huai'an, barely knows anything about the adepti or his lifestyle.

So on a sunny, quaint day like any other where calmness passes through the lands without worry, they expected the Adepti to resign himself to a moment of peace and rest too.

So color them surprised when they save the familiar silhouette of the adepti ascending to the top floor. Porcelain white skin and clear tank top glittered with fresh blood as a broken and bruised figure lays unconscious in his arms. The couple was thankful that there were no customers out and about that day, because it would be a disaster for an audience to witness such a thing. Also bad for business, but they'll hold that in at the back of their mind.

Skilled workers were quick to work with their seemingly extensive experience with such a protocol. As they tended to the victim, the Boss stayed behind to tend to and inquire with the Adepti. Yet such a conversation between them came out strained:

There were no visible wounds that require immediate medical attention but there was a look in his eyes that feels much more broken than anything they can fix. Verr's hands hover over him in an attempt to urge him to clean up his still bloodied form. His amber eyes that were usually sharp looks through a distance light-years away.

"Xiao," the woman started and the eyes snapped out of its reverie, subtly looking around to ground himself. "What happened? And are you okay?"

"Their- the parents died from a Hilichurl ambush, I was only able to save the child," his crossed arms gripped at his forearm in the realization of his utter mistake. "32 seconds."

"32 seconds?" The Mondstadtian offered a fresh set of hot towels he had taken, and he had flinched when he saw the carnage that stuck close to his skin.

"I was 32 seconds late."

Your parents were adventurers who brought you with them as big fans of traveling and nomadic lifestyle, no set home yet freely living by. You were in your younger teens and you'd clarified you had no other family to go to.

The death of your parents came as an obvious shock to your young self yet you grieved in silence and sobs, as the only person you trust hovers next to where you rest in silent contemplation.

Verr knows that look, and it was something she hasn't seen on the Adepti before. Of pure guilt and a sense of responsibility.

That night you rested surprisingly nightmare-free as your savior stands his ground next to where you rest.

Present Times

The couple had adopted you into the Inn family without a second's hesitance and you were thankful for them as you were to Xiao. You were no heavy expense or disadvantage and that made it all the more easier to adapt into your new lifestyle.

Despite no words or explanation, you were perfectly aware of the deeds your savior had done to save you and keep you alive, and with that you had sworn to serve him until the end of your time. A life for a life, equivalent exchange.

Coming into terms with being in Liyue and the Inn, your life choices were meddled with commerce and the importance of livelihood. You were young but your guilt of being under the care of such people forced you to take on any and every responsibility you can handle.

Despite your background you were expertly skilled with cooking. Your mother and father always taught you the importance of a meal for adventurers whenever you'd camped out. And your special touch on dishes that saves adventurers had drawn in many appetites.

Business boomed and the Inn wasn't just famous for being a temporary residence, but a sanctuary that offers tastes paired with the divine sense of Celestia. You became Wangshu Inn's Head Chef, with your sous-chef Smiley Yanxiao.

At times where Xiao is forced to make rounds to seize looming threats, he'd find himself picking fresh and healthy ingredients he'd find on the way back and present to you for new recipes to experiment on.

But you also pride yourself with a different title, or titles: The Adepti's Personal Chef, Tender of the Yaksha, Adepti's Devotee.

This title was emphasized by the Sigil of Permission sewn into an armband hanging by your right arm, something you proudly wear even beyond the walls of the Inn.

You found out the Adepti's favorite during your daily visit and breaks, usually done so by hanging out in the balcony with him with a brand new recipe you recently made and wanted to test out.

While he sat parallel to you, he eyed the transparent syrup and the gelatinous substance in the obvious curiousity he shows for all your new creations, silently awaiting your opinion by watching your expression: whenever you show even the slightest distaste, he'll pointedly ignore his curiousity and the dish altogether. And if you express such pride and achievement, his interest will get the better of him, if you haven't offered the dish quickly enough.

"What is this?" He'd finally ask after your delighted moans, indulging on your own creation.

"Mmm, Almond Tofu... do you wish to try it?" Without an answer he'd pick up the only spoon on the plate and tasted it himself. And just like that, he'd froze, eyes full blown in surprise and awe.

"Do you like it?" He can only hum in response as he scarfs down the plate by himself, chewing respectfully yet with a hint of vigor in every scoop. "It tastes... like dreams..." the way he looked at you, with eyes possessing such childlike wonder, you couldn't help but fall.

After that, Xiao had requested a daily plate/offering of it. It became a routine to the point that all workers heard of the favoritism and are encouraged to learn the recipe. But it's usually your dish that is served, unless special occasions calls for someone else.

There has been an influx of dormers and adventurers recently as citizens around Teyvat flock to the Liyue continent in hopes to watch the most extravagant celebration of the new year, the Lantern Rite Festival.

Your best efforts manning the kitchen together with Yanxiao took gruelling hours just to prepare for the dinner's first course even with hours of prep time available. Even both bosses had to lend some hands as your sous-chef can barely keep up with your stride. And after the dishes are finally distributed to the dining hall, you were already set in cleaning up the kitchen, and before you knew it-

"It has been an hour."

"It was a busy day, I'm sorry, Xiao." You could only muster a mumble in guilt as you kept your head down on the usual table, refusing to look at the disapproving expression he definitely wore, except he doesn't. His face has the slightest hints of worry and wonder at your deflated composure.

But his focus now was on the food he has been craving the whole day, already digging into his dessert. And you just tried your hardest not to fall asleep on the cold, wooden tabletop. Until your tummy rumbled through the silence.

A hum. "You haven't eaten?" You shake your head as you lift your head, gazing at the cute sight of your guardian tilting his head to the side in slight distaste for your lifestyle. You open your mouth to retort until you felt the cold utensil touch your bottom lip. "Here, I saved you the last bite. After this, get yourself a meal and retreat to your quarters, I don't want to hear any excuses." He softly urges a little push with the spoon so you get the hint, and you wrap your lips around it, chewing and gulping down cold dessert. He offered his favorite food, used the same spoon, and spoon fed you with it—

"Wha... don't- don't bite the spoon," you squeeze your eyes tight from the embarrassing thoughts in your head.

When people wish to have an audience with Xiao, most of the time they head to you for guidance after inquiring with Verr. They require a sigil of permission, and most of the times, your own sigil has been under fire a lot in their desperation.

An old merchant who desperately wants to hire the adepti to aid his caravan with personal security once tried to claw at your armband, but a split second after the tip of his fingers had touched the cloth, he was blown away to the nearest wall.

"What-," a pressure on your left shoulder pulls your other against a lean chest, protectively squeezing as a polearm materialized in front of you. You can feel the ragged vibrations of the Yaksha's unusually heavy breaths, his amber eyes sharp and dangerous, dilated like a predator.

"What gives you the idea that you had the authority to lay a hand on my assistant?" Black and teal embers conjure around you two as a dark shadow slowly creeps up from the ground. "That is their sigil of permission; I want nothing to do with you mere mortals."

If not for Verr and the other staff, things would have gone gruesome and unsightly for the business. Yes, business. Everyone disliked the guy enough to care more about the Inn than his actual well-being. When he'd come to, he was forced out of the Inn (he would have done so himself anyways as he was already traumatized).

"Sir Xiao, why did you do that?"

"He didn't have a Sigil, he was pretty much asking for it. And why have you gone formal?" You pouted at him and his only response was a quirked eyebrow. Walking over to stand behind him, you slowly wiggled your arms through the gap between his waist and slack arms, finding it easy enough with how thin his waist is as you wrapped him in a hug.

He tensed from the secretly ticklish feeling before letting down his guard in your arms. This was one of your leeway as his most devoted follower. Your constant exposure with the aid of the divine sigil has made you immune to the negative effects of Adeptal energy, enough to make him nigh worry about your safety around him anymore.

And him letting you hug him like this... let's just say it's from your mannerisms of comfort when you were still young and around him.

"Take an indefinite leave," Xiao broke the silence a few minutes after, forcing you to crane your head to the side to look at him. He meets your gaze with an amused glint. "You have no debt to pay here, you shouldn't be holed up in a place like this."

"It is true that me leaving wouldn't have majooor repercussions, but what's with the sudden idea?"

He huffs. "You're my only follower and yet you divide your attention serving temporary mortals that will pass by without remembrance. And besides," you tense at the sight of an upturn on the edge of lip, pearly whites subtly peeking, "personal does not mean sharing."

You were an adventurer at heart and it's time you indulge in that glorified life of excitement, with your guardian by your side. It was the only gift he can come up with for your undying devotion.

Holy - I had to cut this thing A LOT because I wrotE A HECKIN LOT WTF?! It's not even done in my mind, my goodness, there should be an adventuring unit here too but hhhh I got too conscious of the length sksksks I'm so sorry! P-Part 2-?

I enjoyed writing this a tad bit too much sksksks but now that the second to the last installation of this even is published, the next request should be the last one! And that means I'll have to stop the poll and start working on the requests for the 100 followers one! So if you haven't voted there, you should before it's too late!!

#exile.flower #exile.goblet #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #i. fucked up #why do i always go haywire when given a simple prompt #i think this went too far hmm #followers special #gender neutral

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

all yours

kirishima x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), spitting, one ass smack, one bite from shark boy, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight dumbification

being a hero meant you were constantly in the public eye

there was no escaping it when the missions you were assigned were directly tied to your public approval

more people liking you meant bigger, flashier missions

and if they didn’t, well…

at least there was never a shortage of paperwork to be done

you’ve been doing well though! raising through the hero ranks faster than your agency anticipated

faster than you anticipated

it was great! it was everything you’d worked your whole life for

it…it was exhausting

not only did you have a sudden influx of missions to complete as your agency tried to capitalize on the exponential growth

you had also been instructed to have near daily interviews

smiling for the camera was fine until your cheeks started hurting from the strain

it was no wonder that by the third straight month of the endless pattern of gruelling missions followed by repetitive interviews you were physically and mentally drained

your boyfriend did his best to make sure you were taking care of yourself, cooking you lunches and texting you throughout the day to check up on you though there was only so much a fellow pro hero could do with his own busy schedule to attend to

kirishima knew exactly what you were going through and his heart broke whenever he could catch a glimpse of you before you passed out in bed

so when it all came to a head one day, he was more than ready to catch you

just open the door. you were stood frozen in front of the door of your apartment, keys in hand. that’s all you had to do. twist the knob, open the door and he’d be right there. your eiji. he would take one look at you and know exactly what to do to make you feel better. love and comfort were a few steps away and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

the day had beaten you down more than you thought possible. everytime you blinked you could see the flash of bulbs, hear the shouts of reporters or was that the screams from your rescue today? it was all starting to blend together. you were an open wound, pulsating and bleeding vulnerability. how could you let your boyfriend see you like this? weak and broken and barely holding it together. it wasn’t just embarrassing. it was shameful. eiji had been living this life longer then you had, had risen to heights you could only dream of and he did it with ease. meanwhile, a few months had left you a shell of yourself.

you didn’t know a hero could be this pathetic.

just as you were about to turn and take a walk to clear your head, the door swung open. eiji’s head was tilted to the side, his long crimson hair falling over his shoulder loose from its usual ponytail. you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, afraid of what you’d find. you let your gaze drift upwards, focusing on the small scar above his eye. what if he was disappointed? red riot deserved a partner as strong as him and you did not fit the bill. not anymore.

“i’m home.” you willed your voice to not shake as you crossed the threshold into your home.

“baby.”

“did you eat yet? i’ve been craving pizza from the place down the street we should put in an order.”

“babe.”

“or did you already cook? you’re right no point in spending money if we don’t have to.”

“y/n.” large hands held fast to your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face to face with eiji and being forced to stare into the eyes of the love of your life. “please. talk to me.”

a beat of silence as you bunched the front of his shirt in your fists, vision blurring from unspilled tears. then, “‘m so tired, eiji.”

he wrapped his arms around you and you told him everything. what your agency had demanded of you, the unending stress, the poisonous thoughts that ate away at you everyday. eiji held you together through it all, clinging so hard you could feel his body shake as you spoke.

“we’re gonna talk to your agency tomorrow. they’re pushing their best hero too hard and we’ll tell them to cut the publicity. the people already love you, you don’t have to put up with this.”

“you’ll come with me?” you sniffed. eiji pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, lifting your head up until your watery eyes met his.

“of course i will.” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. “we’re in this together, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

you leaned into his touch, covering his hand with yours and marveling at the size difference. it never failed to fluster you how much bigger eiji was then you. your definition of safety started and ended with these hands, with the man they belonged to who had loyalty etched into his bones.

he held you like you were something worth protecting.

“i don’t deserve you.” you said, kissing his rough palm.

“don’t say that. don’t ever say that.” he leaned down until your foreheads pressed together and whispered, “do you know how much you mean to me?”

“i know.”

“let me remind you anyway.” with that he surged forward, closing the ever shortening distance between you as his mouth closed over yours.

every kiss with eiji was full of passion, even the chaste goodbyes you shared before heading to work but this one blew them away. he kissed you like he was trying to stitch together all your broken pieces. he kissed you as though he wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted an eternity. he kissed you and he kissed you and he kissed you.

and with everything you had left to give, you kissed him back.

when you broke apart, you had to bite back a moan at the sight before you. eiji looked sinful, red hair falling into his face, lips swollen and eyes locked on yours, dark and half lidded.

“we don’t… we don’t have to… you just got home you’re tired.” he said.

“eiji.” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck to whisper in his ear. “i need you.”

the world blurred as he lifted you up, legs locking around him on instinct as he carried you to the bedroom. a moment later you were dropped onto the soft mattress, feeling it dip as eiji settled over you. a familiar shyness tinged lust set in as he hovered above you. he was just so big. he was caging you in without even trying, he was that much larger than you. your breath hitched as he bent close to kiss your neck, looking anywhere but at him, something that didn’t escape his notice.

“where’d you go, pretty girl? eyes on me.” his voice left no room for disobedience and you complied, keeping your eyes on him as he asked. “there you are. tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“i like… being under you.”

eiji smirked, sharp teeth on full display. “yeah? what do you like about it? use your words for me, baby.”

you could tell how much he was enjoying making you squirm. he knew, of course, the effect he had on you. this was far from the first time your size difference came up in the bedroom but he loved making you say it nonetheless.

“i like that you’re bigger, eiji. you make me feel so safe.” your voice cracked at the honest.

he kissed the corner of your mouth. “always. i’ll die before i let you get hurt, understand me?”

he waits until you nod before snaking his hands under your shirt, removing it in one move. open mouth kisses trails down your neck to the valley between your tits. as much as you loved the foreplay he usually dished out, you were far too needy right now. you grabbed a fistful of his hair, guiding him lower down.

“baby, please.”

“so impatient.” he teased. he grabbed hold of your pants and panties, tugging them off before settling between your legs, one thrown over each of his broad shoulders.

“oh love you’re soaked. who got you this wet?” you let out a small whine of embarrassment, hoping he’d get the message and let you off the hook. a sharp sting on your inner thigh had you trying to close your legs around his head but his grip was too strong to do so. he bit you. eiji must’ve been as riled up as you were, he was always so mindful of his sharp teeth. “i asked you a question, didn’t i?”

“you! you did ‘s all for you eiji!”

“good girl.” he rewarded you by licking a broad stroke through your folds, ending with a flick on your clit that sent pleasure shooting through you. he pressed two fingers inside you with little struggle, scissoring you open to prep you for his cock. you desperately wanted to rock against his face but with one arm pinning your hips down, you could do nothing but take what he gave you.

you were close — so close and eiji, who knew your body better than you did, could feel it by the fluttering of your walls, the arch in your back. it was under his heavy gaze you came undone, thighs shaking as he rode you through your high. if you thought he looked sinful before, now he was downright pornographic, the evidence of your orgasm glistening on his face. he licked the remnants of your arousal of his fingers and grinned.

he pulled away long enough to remove his clothing while you took the time to unclasp your bra and admire the view that was your boyfriend stripping. he caught your blatant stare and winked as he pulled down his briefs, hard cock springing free.

“see something you like?” he said crawling back over you to kiss you, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. you could feel his dick pressed against your thigh and you grinded against it, earning a delicious groan that spilled into your mouth. “fuck can you ride me baby please? wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.”

when you nodded, he wrapped one arm beneath you and rolled, flipping you both over so you were straddling him. gripping his shoulders, you lined yourself up with him, slowly sinking down around his girth. eiji’s cock, like the rest of him, was stupid large and the stretch was always there when he entered you. but you relished the feeling all the more, a sense of pride bursting inside you when he managed to bottom out.

you closed your eyes for a moment until the uncomfortable burn dissipated and you were left feeling full, complete with him buried in you. when you opened up your eyes once more, eiji was looking up at you with the softest expression, one you’re familiar with but that made your face warm nonetheless. he looked at you with nothing but love and awe, the corner of his lips quirked in a small smile.

you held out your hands and eiji laced his fingers with yours, helping you balance as you began to bounce.

“there you go.” eiji grunted. “take what you need, i’m all yours.”

“all mine?” you clenched at the thought and he threw his head back at the feeling.

“all yours this cock belongs to you, pretty girl.”

the need to mark him as yours bubbled to the surface and you leaned in close, so close you were sharing air, panting into each other’s mouths.

“eiji.” you moaned, cut off when he bucked up suddenly. “f-fuck eiji i wanna spit in your mouth.”

he opened up without hesitation, tongue lolling out and waiting to receive you. you let the fluid trickle out, watching with fascination as it mixed with eiji’s. he swallowed and showed you his empty mouth.

“dirty girl, so fucking lewd you drive me crazy.” you were grinding your hips against his now, nearly crying from the friction against your clit.

“‘m gonna cum ‘m gonna cum.” you whined, powering through when your thighs began to shake from exhaustion. eiji placed his hands on your hips, guiding them back and forth.

“cum for me baby cum all over your cock.” his words were your undoing, tipping you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you. though you felt boneless after your high, you continued to rock against him.

“wanna feel you fill me up.” you said. “eiji please fuck me full of your cum.”

eiji knew everything about you but you knew him just as well, knew what words would stoke the fire in him and make him lose himself to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him. and sure enough, he shifted to anchor his feet to the bed, wrapping his arms around you until your tits were pressed against him. he began to fuck up into you hard and fast, the wet smack so loud it made you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“i got you baby i’m gonna pump you so full of cum you’ll be leaking. that's what you want, huh? wanna walk around with my cum dripping down your leg?”

you could only moan in response, the quick pace turning your brain to mush and eiji seemed to sense it.

“did i fuck you dumb, pretty baby?” a smack landed in your ass and you yelped. “answer me.”

“i want your cum want it so bad, please eiji please.”

“that wasn’t hard. good girls get what they ask for.” he bucked up once, twice, three times, liquid heat spilling deep inside you. you shuddered at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your, a mixture of both your cum dripping onto eiji.

for a moment you were both quiet, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “‘m gonna get us cleaned up, love.”

“in a minute i just wanna stay like this for a little bit. is that ok?”

“anything you want.” together you lay, eiji tracing shapes on your bare back, an eternal gratefulness for the man beneath you washing away all the negativity of the months prior. you knew as long as eiji was on your side, you would always be okay.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima imagine #bnha x reader #bnha smut #kirishima eijiro imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro smut #mha smut #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha imagine

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 3 years

Text

Little Robin and Momma Bird

In honor of First Day of Spring 2021 which for comic fans is the birth date of Richard John-Grayson Wayne, Member of the Flying Graysons, Bruce Wayne’s Adopted Son, Barbara Gordon’s classmate, Wally West and Roy Harper’s best friend, Princess Koriand’r’s true love, the first Robin, The Boy Wonder, Leader and founding member of the Teen Titans, Nightwing, Protector of the City of Bludhaven, Renegade, Ex Apprentice of Slade Wilson, Agent 37, Big Brother to Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne, in varying times and places Father of Mar’i ‘Nightstar’ and Jacob ‘Jake’ Grayson and above all else and beyond all those titles, son of John Grayson and Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson; here’s what I hope is something short and sweet.

��Now with long intro out of the way, the following is dedicated to @mothnem @lightdusk96 @hood-ex @thattimdrakeguy @tarisilmarwen @fireflyxrebel-writes @nightglider124 @nyxqueen97 @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @arabian-batboy @meara-eldestofthemall @robxstar @bluerene and so many others for being my friends in light of this occasion. Please like, comment and especially reblog for any corrections and constructive criticisms. It’ll be very appreciated.

Please Enjoy....

The sun gleaming and bright rays shone through the small trailer window, lighting the small bedroom with many bright colors of its own decorated throughout. The beige carpet, still an ever bit of simple yet practical use of being the floor, was littered with small shapes of varying sizes, almost all being made of plastic. In particular, these spread out toys were action figures, representing the recent phenomena of spandex clad and awe inspiring individuals that are the ‘Superman’ from Metropolis and the rest being merely the few robotic and unnatural opponents he faces in protecting the oppressed and those in need. The resident of this small bedroom was for all accounts a fan of Superman, something not too unprecedented given the caped champion’s crusades in correcting the wrongs and dangers Metropolis and the larger world face the best he can ever since his first day to the public.

And given these are action figures of Superman, it shall be of no surprise said resident was indeed very young; a small acrobat of the famous Haly’s Circus currently asleep and softly snoring away in this room’s bed, blankets draped and covering almost every part of him, even his face. It’s his 7th birthday as of today, this wonderful first day of Spring. Now if only something or someone can get him awake to enjoy such a day. That’s where a certain Mrs. Mary Grayson enters our picture.

As she gently pries open her son’s bedroom door as to not awaken him, clad only in a grey t-shirt and black pants as used for pajamas last night, Mary carefully trudges across the beige carpet towards the bed being occupied by said son. Sure, both her and him have slept in until nearly 9:30 am as of now since their family group, the Flying Graysons, have a day off from practice for today, but frankly had Dick remembered that today’s his birthday from earlier, he would been by now sneaking into his parents’ neighboring room, awaking them both his father John and her up about said day, probably the best he can think of for a gentle reminder. But due to recent influx of performances across the West Coast, Dick lost count so now it was Mary’s turn to gently remind him and in the best way she knows how.

As Mary’s bare feet carefully skirt around the action figures spread across the floor, even picking some up along the way (maybe reminding Dick to next time pick up his toys before bed will come in later tonight), she eventually reaches her son’s twin sized bed and the red, green and yellow pattern blanket that draped over the little guy overnight. In her right hand was a blue fine point marker pen with washable ink while her left gently leans to one end of the blanket where a small tuff of black hair sticks out. Gently caressing her left hand the black mass, Mary can hear a content giggle coming from under the blanket, no doubt her son feeling the familiar, loving motion John and her regularly do as parents can. On normal moments this happens, Dick would playfully push the hand ruffling his black hair away. This time, he just simply lightly giggles in his sleep. Mary was sort of banking the hair ruffling being enough to awaken her son to this bright and beautiful first day of Spring. As soon as her hand though stops with the affectionate ruffling and once more snores are heard coming from Dick, her lips turn into a soft yet mischievous smile; it was time for Plan B. Sure Enough, when looking over to the other end of the blanket and seeing her son’s own two feet, so far socked but with her there not for too long. That marker in her hand has its cap screw off.

On some occasions when she was basically passed out from a long night on the trapeze, Mary wold wake to find the soles of her feet with scribbles and doodles all across, most of them featuring the Flying Graysons logo prominently. She almost immediately knew the culprit behind such drawing but often times just leaves it be and even walks on her two feet with drawing and all since the marker ink easily comes off so it was overall no big deal. Besides, her son was just having some harmless fun so why would she dare try ruining that; sure she was strict on some parts of his behavior but this ain’t one of the them. Now though, as she lightly tugs the two socks off her sleeping son as to not awake him, revealing two velvet soles and the ten toes and with her marker in hand, it was time for payback if you may.

Starting with lightly drawing smiley faces on his big toes, Dick’s reaction was almost immediate as a slightly louder giggle comes from the blankets and his toes clench. Mary briefly backs off the marker until the toes relaxing and using her free hand, she lightly grabs unto the big ones, leaving his feet still. With that, she can proceed with the rest as sure enough, various other faces across his other toes are drawn along with flowers and even an elephant on the arch of his right foot. As for that last one, the giggling had reached its loudest and looking upward, Mary couldn’t help but smile at the results. Plan B was a success, Dick was awake and laughing his head off due to the scribbling.

“Momma!” he yells between hearty giggles, “That tickles!”

Mary grins a bit, “Oh really?”

She continues with that elephant on Dick’s right foot, now holding him still with arm entrapping his ankles tightly, making sure he can’t pull his feet back from that blue marker as it continued its path. Though Mary notes that even then, Dick wouldn’t want to. He had not once told her to stop, indicating that he was enjoying this instead. Frankly, after a long time doing this to her, she couldn’t blame him. All Dick does on his part is lay his head on the pillows, the blankets off of him, allowing Mary to see him clad in a similar style of PJs to hers only with the coloring being a blue t shirt and grey sweat pants instead. To the left of him was his precious stuffed elephant Peanut; ever since being first given that on his 4th birthday, he keeps it close to him whenever going to bed. All this time afterwards, Mary still hasn’t been able in getting her son a second stuffed toy like Peanut much to her disappointment but hey that’s a thought for another time, she has one more spot to draw before she can move on for the rest of the day, the arch on Dick’s left foot.

At first, Mary thought of drawing the Flying Graysons logo for the finishing touch but instead opts for a more casually yet fitting wording. With that in mind, her blue marker makes contact with the velvet of her son’s arch and starts its ink dripped path. By now, the 7 year old was still in full hysterics over his Momma’s drawings but he will admit, at least it was better waking up from his trapeze swinging dreams like this rather than the sun’s rays shining on him as it usually happens. Finally though, he feels the marker stop and opening his ocean blue eyes, sees his mother put the cap back on. Putting the marker away in her pocket, Mary places a soft kiss on her son’s forehead while giving him another hair ruffle. This time, now fully awake, Dick gently pushes her hand away.

His blue eyes meet his mother’s own blue eyes and a wide smile stretches on his face.

“Thanks Momma” he chirps happily in Romani Chib.

Another motherly kiss, this time his cheek, “You’re welcome, Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about your special day today, My Little Robin”

As Mary stands and makes her way back to the door, Dick stretches his arms, letting out a yawn from his mouth doing so.

“Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes” Mary states with a warm smile on her face.

“Cereal, Momma?”

“Any type you like that we have of course”

“I’ll be there soon” Dick says, a wide grin on his face.

Mary has a humming giggle of her own before making her own to the kitchen to no doubt prepare her son and her’s bowls for the day. Though of course, they were just getting started.

Dick swings his feet to step off his bed and begin trudging to his breakfast, he briefly wonders on what his mother drew on him before putting the marker away. As such, flexing his leg to where he can see the soles and toes of his two feet, Dick smiles of all nice stuff Momma left. Indeed, there were flowers on the balls of his arches, goofy faces on each of his ten toes, what looks like a circus ball on his right heel, a trapeze bar on his left heel, a short yet cute elephant on right foot’s arch and at least the words on his left arch.

‘Happy 7th B-Day Little Robin, Love Momma’

Now that was love from a mother alright. Dick certainly will never forget this. Now to get the table without stepping on his toys on the floor.

#dick grayson #mary grayson #first day of spring #fanfic #my posts #family fluff

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

Propinquity (Law of Seesaw)

→ [6/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: You first meet him on a seesaw. What a surprise, your relationship with him is exactly like that of a seesaw too—there are ceaseless ups and downs. So much so that you wonder when it’ll end.

→ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 50% fluff, 33% angst, 17% crack | e2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, mean insults

→ wordcount: 9.2k

♫: Seesaw by BTS

You can't remember the last time you've gone a week without fighting.

There is always a new problem that arises. A new argument that is sparked from the depths of trivial problems. Then Yoongi stops talking to you for a day (or days if the fight is serious) and sleeps downstairs on the couch until he wants to crawl back to you and apologize. Other times, you're the one who has to drag yourself to your boyfriend's study with a plate of his favorite fruit and an apology in your head.

But it seems like the fighting never ends.

Now the bed feels cold. It is empty. Just like you.

You know that Yoongi's downstairs, either working with his new client (through the dead of the night) or already sleeping on the small couch. Though you're supposed to be mad at him, you worry. The couch isn't good for his already deteriorating posture. But you can't nag at him now. It'll result in more arguments.

When was the last time you and Yoongi didn't fight, though?

The correct answer is never.

From day one, you and Yoongi were destined enemies.

"Hi." You're a proud little child, standing up straight with your hands on your hips. A bit chubby and round in the middle but you flaunt the extra weight. "My mommy says I need to make friends before kindergarten starts."

"My mommy says not to talk to strangers." The young boy peeks at you through his shaggy black hair. He rocks the paint-nicked seesaw by himself, kicking his feet off the ground only to come back down with a light oof.

"I'm not a stranger," you scoff, crossing your hands over your chest. "Let me play on the seesaw!"

Yoongi doesn't even have time to answer because you're crawling up on the opposite side already. "H-Hey!" he yells but he's too late. The moment you innocently perch upon the seesaw, you’re slammed to the ground and Yoongi's lifted up high in the air.

Ah, the weight difference.

"GET ME OFF!" Yoongi screams. "GET ME OFF!!"

Your eyes turn wide. You hadn't meant to scare the boy. You thought everyone wanted to fly up in the air, and you were just granting the little boy's wish. In your head, you didn't even think of the possibility that Yoongi is afraid of heights. (Which was stupid of him to even try playing on the seesaw in the first place.)

"GET OFF!" Yoongi yells viciously at you. His face has turned a bright shade of pink and purple.

You think he looks like he's about to suffocate.

"I'M SORRY!" you shriek as you dive off the seesaw.

Yoongi lets out a high-pitched, ear-piercing scream as he subsequently flings off the seesaw. He lands on his butt several centimeters away from the rusty playground equipment and bursts out crying.

You gasp. Oh no. This was bad. Very, very bad. So you do the first thing that comes to your head: run away.

The boy's cries become louder and louder as you sprint in the opposite direction, but you grit your teeth and dash on. Eventually, your guilt for throwing off a boy from the playground seesaw dissipates when your mother buys you ice cream for lunch. Food is always the solution.

You have no idea that day you accidentally made a little boy cry was the day you met your future boyfriend. You just thought you met a crybaby coward.

And he thought he met the devil. If the devil was a chubby little girl with chipmunk cheeks and rolls on her arms.

You two had no idea you would meet again.

So far, the first day of kindergarten isn't going so great. All the other girls brought their barbies to class. You brought your stuffed animal snake—Mr. Slithers.

And now the other girls don't really like you. Because "snakes are icky!" Their words, not yours.

If they only knew this week was a rainforest theme in your head. Every day of the week, you would prepare to bring a new stuffed animal that lived in the rainforest. Today would be the green snake, then tomorrow, the tree frog and so on. But no one applauds your genius planning skills.

So you mope around for half of the day. The girls are playing princesses with their stupid barbies and they won't let you join because a snake cannot wear a ball gown.

You end up poking at the seesaw in the kindergarten playground. It's boring when there's no one else to sit on the other side. Mr. Slithers isn't heavy enough to seesaw with you either. You want your mommy.

"You!" a high-pitched voice shrieks.

Jumping, you whip your head around to see the little boy. No. The same little boy who you accidentally flung backward on the seesaw.

"Are you gonna throw me off the seesaw again?" he yells. For such a skinny little boy he has quite a loud voice.

"I didn't mean it!" you yell back.

"You need to apologize to me!"

"No!"

You run away again.

And just like a real big stupidhead, Yoongi tattletales on you to the kindergarten teacher, Mr. Kim. In your defense, you didn't even do anything to Yoongi at kindergarten, so Mr. Kim can't make you apologize to stupid Min Yoongi.

Mr. Kim agrees with your defense. But he doesn't approve of you using the word, stupid, so you have to apologize to Yoongi anyways. While you're positively livid, Yoongi is triumphant.

That is only the start of the rivalry.

In first grade, Yoongi calls you fat.

You aren't normally one to waste your time tattling to the adults, but Yoongi did it to you in kindergarten so it only feels right to get revenge. But apparently calling someone fat is much worse than calling someone stupid. Yoongi has to apologize to you and he has to sit in the time out corner. He also gets a call home so his parents are notified of his bad behavior.

In second grade, you start losing weight. Not because Yoongi called you fat. But because you figured you should start exercising to be as healthy as your gym rat parents. When you tell the second-grade class you want to become a football star and you've planned out your whole athletic pathway, Yoongi is the first one to rudely laugh at you. So you make sure to boo his presentation when he brags about writing a whole book by himself (it's called Dot Goes to School—pretty mediocre stuff). Both of you have your recess privileges taken away.

Staying in for recess with someone you absolutely despise is not worth the satisfaction you got from teasing them. So you and Yoongi become more discreet in your never-ending ways to spite each other.

In third grade, Yoongi calls you a stick during recess. He makes sure to say it loud enough so you can hear his insult but not as loud so the playground monitor doesn't hear. Sneaky brat. You turn to him with flashing eyes and tell him very upfrontly, "Says you."

The rivalry still exists in fourth grade, when both of you feel like you're too old to play on the playground. The seesaw incident is still ingrained in the backs of both of your heads, though. So even when you and Yoongi have your separate groups of friends, you still manage to be mean to each other.

For instance, the day before the annual fourth-grade square dance, you and your new group of friends spread a rumor that Yoongi has cooties. As a result, no one wants to be his partner the next day.

But then your partner, that brat, Park Jimin calls in sick on D-Day and so your plan backfires in your face. You dance with Yoongi. And now you have cooties too.

In fifth grade, girls are starting to talk about boys during recess. When the shy, cute Gayoung confesses her crush on Min Yoongi, you have to excuse yourself from the friend group. Instead, you go out on the fields to play soccer with the guys. Thankfully, cooties are 'for babies' in fifth grade, so you have free reign with the boys.

Park Jimin confesses he likes you in sixth grade. He tells you that you are pretty. But his confession was definitely not in your schedule. You're supposed to go to swim practice in five minutes. So you wave him off. Not because you hate him. But let's face it. The boy ditched you in fourth grade and you had to dance with Yoongi. Plus, now Jimin's Yoongi's friend. There is no way in hell you are going to butt noses with Yoongi's friend.

The whole grade goes in an uproar when they find out you rejected Jimin. You couldn't care less.

Seventh grade is weird. You finally get your period. And the new sex-ed class collectively makes everyone embarrassed. It also starts the influx of period jokes from yours truly, the boys. Whenever a girl is in a bad mood, the boys yell, "YOU MUST BE ON YOUR PERIOD!" You make note of every guy who says this. Then the second time they yell that to a poor girl, you hold up a tampon with ketchup on it. It shuts them up so well that all the girls in your grade start to carry around tampons and ketchup packets.

Surprisingly enough, Yoongi isn't part of the rowdy group of boys who make insulting period jokes. He's gotten much quieter over the years (middle school must've brought some sort of maturity on him), but he still finds ways to make your life miserable.

When there are rumors that Jimin will ask you out to the Halloween dance, you actually prepare to accept—maybe just to spite Yoongi. But turns out the whole rumor was a lie made up by the boy you despise. So you're rendered embarrassed.

In eighth grade, to your surprise, Gayoung asks Yoongi out. Of course, Yoongi would say yes. He knows you hate Gayoung. She had grown ample boobs and fit in with the popular girls who talked about boy bands and got dress-coded every day. You have no idea why such a popular girl would ask out a nerdy, rat-faced boy. But apparently, Yoongi is conventionally handsome. What a load of bullcrap.

It irks you even more when they become a revolutionary couple—the first time a girl has asked out a boy.

You make a bet with your friends that the couple won't last a week. Your wallet cries that year. You lose nearly ₩30,000.

By tenth grade, they are still dating.

You're starting to wonder if Yoongi somehow got his grubby hands on a love potion. There's just no way that whiny asshole can keep a girlfriend for that long. But according to your friend who is friends with the friends of the friends of Gayoung's friends, Yoongi is a good boyfriend. You want to gut yourself after hearing that.

Gayoung is always bragging about how Yoongi buys her flowers before class, and she makes sure everyone knows of this by posting pictures of the aromatic bouquets on Instagram. Yoongi often writes her little love poems and short stories, and though you're 100% sure Gayoung doesn't read them, she posts those online too. God, she is so annoying that you unfollow her. (You've blocked Yoongi's account a long time ago.)

For the most part, though, when hating Yoongi is not on your mind, your life is pretty normal. And you're definitely content. You and a sporty transfer student from America, Jungkook, have hit it off. It's fun taking him around everywhere to taste test all the convenience stores in Korea.

Until the day you catch Jimin and Gayoung lip-locking behind your favorite kimbap store. You and Jungkook look at each other with wide eyes. Before Jungkook can stop you, you snap a quick picture of the action and run away, tugging your friend along with you.

"Dude, you should delete that picture," Jungkook says for the billionth time.

"No can do," you tell him. "I'm sending it to Yoongi."

"To spite him?"

"Duh."

"Aren't you helping him by telling him his girlfriend is a cheater?" Jungkook challenges.

You squint. "You're actually right, Kook. Then I won't tell him."

"Isn't that a little bit too mean?"

"What??"

"I mean, they've been dating since eighth grade. It's been nearly two years, right?" Jungkook points out. "I think Yoongi deserves to know."

"Don't you dare!" you gasp.

"Sorry, Y/N," Jungkook shrugs. "It's just the right thing to do."

Two days later, Gayoung comes to school wearing not the school uniform but a short skirt and tight shirt. Her arm slings around Jimin, her apparent new boyfriend. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

Rumor travels around fast. And they're all accurate for the most part.

But it's not very satisfying to see Yoongi missing from all the action. The whole school day, you wonder where the fuck the boy is. Maybe he's crying his guts out. You've never experienced heartbreak before, so you're not sure if you have the right to say Yoongi necessarily deserves it. You can say though, that he had it coming. After all, all those years he teased you, he hadn't felt a single bit of remorse.

Sucks for him.

It's dark by the time you begin to walk home from school. You'd stayed late to brush up on your horrible chemistry skills so you wouldn't completely fail the final test. On the walk back, you notice the familiar playground. You'd grown up with that thing. But it's been a while since you've cared enough to stare at it.

Usually, the rusty old playground is empty. But today, a figure sits in the shadows. More specifically on the seesaw.

It brings back memories. That had been the same seesaw that had started your rivalry with Min Yoongi. And someone's sitting on it.

You squint, your curiosity getting the better of you as you creep towards the figure. Oh god. Once you see the outline of the person, you know this isn't going to be a very fun experience. Ew, you think. Gross.

But that's until it occurs to you that the person is crying.

Holding your breath, you walk closer to the crying boy. He's shaking, hands covering his face. The other side of the seesaw is up in the air.

He's crying about Gayoung, you realize.

You breathe out. "Need someone to sit down to fling you out again?"

Yoongi jumps. He hiccups. Then he quickly wipes away the tears streaming down his face. "Shut up."

You grin, sitting down on the other side of the seesaw. And this time, neither of you fling off. It is completely balanced.

"What are you doing here?" Yoongi croaks when he realizes you're not going to be leaving any time soon. He sniffles, but for the most part, he hides the fact that he'd been crying very expertly.

"I dunno." You shrug. "What are you doing here?" When there's a pause, you add, "I didn't see you in school."

"Oh, didn't know you cared."

"I don't."

"Figured."

"Did you break up with Gayoung?"

Yoongi laughs scornfully. "No. She broke up with me."

"Yikes, really?"

"What is your deal, Y/N?" Yoongi sighs. "Are you going to laugh in my face? Tell me I deserve this?"

"Not anymore..." you grumble. "Because now there's no element of surprise."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I reckon you spread the rumor?"

"...The rumor?"

"Yeah, the fucking rumor!" Yoongi shouts, throwing up his hands. "You're the one who told everyone Gayoung was cheating on me!"

"Woah, there! I didn't say anything about it!" you yell. "It's not my fault your ex decided to hook up with Jimin!"

"What??"

"Here! I have the fucking receipts!" You whip out your phone, aggressively swiping through your photos before landing on the exact one you were looking for. When you show Yoongi, his eyes turn wide but his posture deflates. He looks defeated.

"She actually cheated...?"

The way he says it with wide eyes and a slumped attitude makes you feel a tiny bit of pity. But the habit of being mean to Yoongi sticks.

"I'm not even surprised."

Yoongi glares at you.

"I mean," you say with an innocent shrug, "she's been eyeing other guys since you started dating her."

"I know..."

You are not about to show sympathy to Min Yoongi. You are not going to let down your guard. You are going to stay cold and emotionless—

"I'm... uh... I... er, I guess I'm sorry."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow. "Why are you sorry?"

"Well, it just seemed like you really liked her—"

"Nah."

"Oh?"

"This is going to sound very stupid."

"Try me." You grin. "In my eyes, you always sound stupid. Remember? I got in trouble for calling you stupid in kindergarten."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "How could I forget?" He grips the seesaw handles. "I don't think I've ever really liked Gayoung."

"Damn, this is tea," you gasp. "Why bother dating her for so long, then?"

"Ha!" Yoongi laughs. "Good question, Y/N. I don't know," he says sarcastically. "I was probably trying to piss you off. Didn't think it'd last that long."

"Oh??" You raise your eyebrows. "But didn't I just see you cry over Gayoung?"

"Er—"

You definitely caught him in a lie. Though it's dark, you can imagine Yoongi flushing a bright shade of pink—he does that when he's guilty. Not that you cared enough to notice over the years.

"It's okay she's with Jimin now. Not your problem."

"Is this your half-assed attempt of trying to solace me?"

"No?" You make a face. "Why on earth would you think I'm trying to solace you, Yoongi? You called me fat in first grade."

"I see you still hold grudges."

"Oh, that's really my only talent," you snort.

"Aren't you a really good planner?"

"Me?" Is this a compliment you hear?—and from the Min Yoongi?

"Yeah, you're going to plan the graduation ceremony, right? They hand-picked you from the student council, didn't they?"

"Well, uh, yeah." You raise your eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't."

Of course.

"Okay, fine by me."

"Why are you even here again?"

You pause. Actually, why are you here? You could've just simply walked away and never had this conversation with Yoongi. But you'd stopped. And now you're talking with him. You answer him truthfully. "I really have no idea."

Another pause.

"Are you gonna ask me to leave?"

"... No."

"Oh." You cock your head. "Okay."

The two of you stare at each other. A staring game commences.

But Yoongi blinks first, claiming you the victor of the little contest. "You can stay if you want."

You scoff. "Excuse me, I didn't know I needed your permission."

Yoongi throws his hands up in the air. "Do you always have to fucking pick a fight?"

"You're the one who starts them!"

"I didn't even say anything mildly rude."

Okay, he might kind of have a point. Maybe all those years of hating him have ingrained permanent hatred in your head, so whatever comes out of Yoongi's mouth seems like an insult that you have to respond to with equal rudeness by reflex.

"Where did we even go wrong?" you sigh, rubbing your forehead.

Yoongi snorts. "Literally right here. On this seesaw."

"You're right," you laugh. This is probably the first time you and Yoongi have agreed on something; it's a foreign feeling that doesn't quite settle right in your stomach.

"Remember when Jimin had a crush on you?"

"Oh stop—" Just one single sentence brings back so many memories.

"Now he's downgraded to girls like Gayoung," Yoongi snorts.

"Oh?" A wide smile stretches across your lips. "Are you saying I'm an upgrade compared to that vile girl?"

"When you put it that way, I'm not so sure."

In any other circumstance, you'd think Yoongi's attacking you again, putting up another unnecessary fight. But right now, it's obvious he's just teasing you.

"Let's face it, Yoongi. I'm better than your ex, aren't I?" you tease right back.

"Barely," he grumbles, but he mumbles under his breath, "but yes."

Thankfully, your owl ears pick up the last part and you grin haughtily. "That's all I needed to hear." Just by habit, you glance down at your watch, frowning when it reads a little past 10 p.m. You're definitely behind schedule right now. Strangely, though, it's kind of worth it, talking to your self-proclaimed nemesis without ripping each other apart with moderately hurtful words.

Yoongi takes notice of you checking the time. Always the same, he thinks. He can't remember the last time he saw you without a watch.

"Anyways... it's getting kind of late..." you say. But you're careful not to stand up from the seesaw—just in case you'll accidentally fling Yoongi off again.

Yoongi nods in agreement. "Yeah." But what he hears next is beyond what he would've ever thought would come out of your mouth next.

"Wanna get some cup ramen? I know a good convenience store nearby."

"With me??" The words slip out of Yoongi's mouth before he can maintain his stoic, chilled composure.

"Why not?" You shrug. "Maybe tonight's the night we can finally stop fighting and act civil for once."

"I am getting tired of the back and forth bickering," Yoongi admits. "Not a bad idea, Y/N."

"I come up with genius ideas once in a while." You flip your hair back and grin. "We just can't stay out before 12 because I need to plan my friend's birthday party before 1."

"I'll get you home by then."

"You're going to walk me home? How boyfriendly."

"It's a habit," Yoongi grumbles.

"A good habit. Keep it up, Min," you laugh. "Then you'll get a new girl in no time."

The two of you count to three before carefully getting off the seesaw together. There are no accidents this time. Everything seems... balanced.

The most what the fuck moment in your life comes when you wake up one morning and realize the person you text and hang out the most is, indeed, Yoongi. Months ago, the thought of him made your blood boil. Now, he's just a friend—a very close friend, too.

Entering eleventh grade with Yoongi by your side is weird. Every other school year, the two of you tried to stay away from each other as much as possible. Yet this year, it's the complete opposite. The two of you solace each other. Even if that involves heavy teasing and harsh verbal exchanges.

"You idiot!" Yoongi shrieks. "And you just let her get away with it?"

"Why yes, why yes I did!" you scream in your shrill voice that makes Yoongi almost flinch back. "What was I supposed to do? Yell at her and tell her I deserved to be class president and not her? Tell her to her face that she cheated the votes?"

"Yes?!"

"Well, I didn't have the guts!"

"Why do you always run away from your fucking problems?"

Yoongi's words pierce through your heart and suck up your anger, replacing it with regret. He’s right though. When something doesn't go the way you planned, you have a habit of ditching. You're afraid of the consequences that will follow when you freestyle everything. And Yoongi knows this.

"I-I... I just... It's easier," you sigh, slumping over your desk seat. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Fight back maybe?" Yoongi's tone is softer after he sees you become dispirited. "I mean, hey, you win some, you lose some."

"I know... I just feel like I'm always losing these days."

"It's okay," Yoongi says. His big hands awkwardly pat at your back. And as funny as it is that he's attempting to comfort you, you're actually well comforted. "Doesn't matter whether you win or lose. What matters is the experience."

"Wise words."

"Well, I'm a wise person." Yoongi gives you a shit-eating grin.

"Oh god."

Sometimes, Yoongi's the one who breaks down, though it's not as often as you do. But once the storm comes, it's hard to make it leave.

"Please don't talk to me right now."

"But Yoongi," you plead, knocking on the door to his room. "I had to practically beg your parents to let me in!" you whisper angrily. "Come on, open the damn door!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you want me to break the door down??"

Silence follows and a small click indicates that the locked door is now open. You carefully turn the knob and push. Yoongi faces you immediately and the way his eyes are red and his cheeks are wet is indicative of a beforehand hysterical crying session.

"Oh, Yoongi..."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," he mutters. But you know he's just saying that because talking about it will make him cry again. You know him too well.

You pull him into a hug. "Maybe music isn't for you," you say. "It's okay if you failed that path. There are many more to take."

He's silent, squeezing you tightly. But you don't mind the silence at all. It's more peaceful that way, and you know he's actually listening to you when he's not talking.

"You're good at writing aren't you?" you whisper, patting his back. "Maybe that's your path. And if it isn't, so what? Poke at every pathway until you find one that's just right for you."

It's advice for yourself as well. Yoongi's upset that he was rejected from a music audition he was preparing to pass for years; he knew he wanted to pursue music and he did it, though it might not have been very successful. You, on the other hand, have no idea what you want to do in the future.

"I guess we both have to start on new paths now, right?"

By twelfth grade, you and Yoongi are beginning to bicker like a married couple. At least, that's what Jungkook says.

"For the last time, we do not sound married!"

Jungkook rests his head on the palm of his hand. "Sure. Sure."

"The thought of even being romantically interested in Y/N gives me goosebumps," Yoongi snorts.

"But the good kind of goosebumps if you know what I'm talking about," Jungkook says. He wiggles his eyebrows in such a suggestive way that you mock vomit.

"Okay, gross," you groan. "The day I catch feelings for Yoongi is the day the whole world will end."

"Um, right back at you," Yoongi frowns. "Don't worry," he says, giving you a cocky grin. "I'm very repulsive. You'll never catch feelings for me."

"We'll see about that," Jungkook snickers.

Every year, Yoongi writes you a birthday letter. Even now, in college, he manages to find time to make the same effort he's made for the past two years. Every year, he somehow makes you cry with his elaborate words. And every year, Yoongi films it because he's a little shit.

This year though, the tone of the letter is much, much sweeter than you expected. Almost as if it's a love serenade and not a platonic letter to your best friend. The writing is elaborately flourished and fluffed up to the point it sounds like a love poem. And you swear Yoongi spritzed perfume on the envelope because the letter smells (shockingly) amazing. The message itself doesn't make you cry. Instead, after you finish reading it, you stare up at Yoongi's camera in shock, jaw dropped open but no words coming out of your mouth. Yoongi seems to like that reaction a lot, and he even zooms up on your dumbstruck face to make fun of it later.

He'd written ten things he loves about you. And it drove you crazy that you didn't know whether it was platonic or romantic.

Love, Yoongi. He'd signed the letter. Not the usual, From your bestest motherfucking greatest friend, Yoongi.

What the fuck did 'Love, Yoongi' even mean??

And it happens so that the two of you fight about it later on.

"This year's birthday video is the best one yet," Yoongi laughs as he tries to turn the camera around to show you the screen.

You jerk away, frowning. "That is not funny."

"Why? Didn't like my letter this year?" He's teasing you but you're annoyed.

"It was different."

"A good different?" Yoongi nudges your shoulder, a smug smirk plastered on his lips.

"Literally, please, stop. Before I wipe that smirk off your face."

"Okay, okay," Yoongi sighs, raising up his hands in defense. "I bet you're just salty you can't name ten things you love about me."

"You're right, right now, I can name zero things," you scoff.

"Liar. You wouldn't have stuck by my side for this long if you didn't love me."

The fact that he's right makes it more irritating.

"Fine. One. You're an asshole—"

"Come on, is that really a reason?" Yoongi laughs. "This isn't ten things you hate about me, you know."

"Hear me out. You're a certain species of asshole that I find slightly more bearable than any other asshole," you say. "I think you're a tolerable asshole. It's a compliment."

"Thanks?"

"Two. You're an idiot—"

"Is this how the rest of the reasons gonna go?" Yoongi scoffs incredulously. "My letter was heartfelt at least!"

"No, but you're a bearable idiot. The kind that irks your strings just enough to make you pissed but not enough to make you explode. No idiot is tolerable but at least once in a million years you give good advice." You shrug as Yoongi shakes his head in denial.

"I always give good advice."

You roll your eyes. "Three. You're not very good looking—"

"I shouldn't even have asked," Yoongi grumbles. "Why did I fucking bother?"

"No, but you're not ugly. Isn't that good news?" you giggle as Yoongi just shakes his head at you. "It's perfect! That way, you attract people with your personality and not your looks! It's a compliment," you add when Yoongi glares at you.

"Whatever," he says.

"Four!" you say triumphantly. "You are drama-free. Except with me. But I'm an exception because I'm special."

"You got that right," Yoongi mutters underneath his breath. "What about five?" Compared to a minute ago, he looks more interested in your list now.

"Five? Well, you're genuine," you say nodding your head. "You wouldn't let me walk around with an eyelash on my face or spinach stuck between my teeth."

"Yeah 'cause you'd embarrass me too because you'd be by my side," Yoongi protests.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fine. Six?"

"Six... hm..." you hum. "You have pretty eyes."

Yoongi laughs out loud. "Thanks, I guess."

"Seven... let's see... hm..." You rub your chin thoughtfully. "Well, you put the toilet seat down for me."

"My mother didn't raise a hooligan."

"I actually agree with you on that one," you say, laughing. "For eight, I want to just say you're a good friend."

"You stole my number 8 on my letter to you!"

"Yoongi, you should just be glad I even repeated it back to you," you giggle. "Wanna hear nine before I forget?"

Your friend sighs but he nods.

"You're a very good writer. And I'm not just saying that to boost your already enormous ego or anything, but I genuinely think you can write," you say. "And I love that because then I get these good ass letters on special occasions. It's weird how you can choose each word so carefully that all of the meanings fit in this gigantic well-flowing story. And you'd think you'd use all these hard vocabulary words to throw me off, but your writing's easy to read and comprehend. It makes it more impactful." You quirk your brow at your friend who finally looks satisfied. "Is that enough?"

"Yes, now that's more like it!" Yoongi grins. "Butter up my ego a bit more, won't you?"

"Can't. I don't have a number ten for you." You shrug. "Sorry."

"C'mon, you can only think of nine reasons why you love me?" Yoongi leans into you, poking your cheek. "I thought of eleven but I had to take one off. This isn't very fair."

"Oh? What was the eleventh?"

"It was more of a joke so you don't need to know."

"Excuse me? I love jokes—even though I don't take them very well."

"Yeah, well, I especially don't want you to take this a bad way," Yoongi says.

"Was it something mean about me??"

"Kind of."

You frown, scrunching your nose. "Try me."

Yoongi shrugs. "Fine, then. I called you oblivious. Happy?"

You lean back from your friend, giving him a disgraceful look. "Me? Oblivious? First of all, no. And second of all, why would you love that about me?"

"Oh, I don't know, because you're so oblivious you can't even tell that I like you??"

One look at Yoongi and you can tell he's dead serious. "Woah," you breathe. You want to ask him to repeat what he just said to see if you heard him correctly the first time. But he's already looking a little impatient at your delayed answer. So you gape at him, muttering a soft, "Like? As in...?" You can't finish the sentence.

"As in love?" Yoongi finishes for you. "Sure."

"Bro..."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I thought the letter made it obvious, Y/N."

"Well, I thought you were joking." You fidget with your hands. "Damn, Yoongi, now what the fuck am I supposed to say?"

"Do whatever you want with that information," he says, shrugging so nonchalantly that you wonder if this man even has feelings.

"Broo..."

"And if that means you're gonna keep saying 'bro,' then I guess that's fine too." He gives you a shit-eating grin.

"No, it's just that... wow. Since when??"

"Like, a year ago? Bit after Jungkook called us a married couple," Yoongi says. "But I'm so dead inside I hid it pretty fucking well. I kept thinking it'd go away too, but man, I still like you now, so I guess the feelings aren't going away anytime soon."

"But what are you proposing??" You run your hands through your hair. "That we go out??"

"Okay, you said it, not me."

You huff. It's weird. This dynamic you have with Yoongi. One moment you're bickering and the next, Yoongi's confessing his feelings for you. Strangely, though, you're not as turned off as you expected.

"One date."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "One date?"

"You can buy me dinner, and if it goes horribly, we're going right back to friends," you bargain. "In the case that it goes well, then, uh, you tell me."

Yoongi laughs. "Oh, I'll be the one to tell you, all right."

And unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you look at it), he's right. Four days later, your relationship with Yoongi becomes official. It irks your strings that none of your friends are even the slightest bit surprised about your newfound romantic relationship with the man you'd known for way more than half of your life.

"We all saw it coming, Y/N," they tell you. "We're actually surprised you two didn't date sooner."

But Yoongi is actually a good boyfriend, so there are no regrets. Aside from the small bickering here and there (the married couple kind of arguing), your relationship with him is sound. And the fact that not much has changed in the way you treat each other since you began dating makes you wonder if you were technically in love with Yoongi this whole time but you were way too blinded by your stupid senses and habitual, platonic teasing that you didn't think you actually liked him romantically. It doesn't really matter now, though. Because you're with him anyway.

Yoongi's love language is quality time and coincidentally, so is yours. College becomes a blast. When you're not studying, you're with Yoongi and when you're not with Yoongi, you're 'studying,' but really thinking of your boyfriend.

Yoongi has a way of plaguing your mind. It's been like that since you were little, too.

Once out of college, things become more difficult. Marriage matures into a serious question that neither you nor Yoongi is ready for. So both of you put it off.

As soon as you secure a job as an event planner and Yoongi becomes a professional grant writer, the honeymoon phase of the relationship plummets to the ground.

For nearly eighteen years you were a victim of Yoongi's 'teasing.' His judgmental remarks. But there is a time and place to be a critique.

"Oh, come on, the food isn't even that bad, Yoongi. Just a little bland. That's it."

"There was a hair in my soup," your boyfriend complains. "I'm asking for another bowl."

"Okay, fine, but don't ask for the manager like last time."

"Last time, the waitress called me a tightwad!! What was I supposed to do?"

"Just let it slide? You yelled at her for bringing you bad food when she didn't even cook it! Can you please stop acting so above everybody?"

"Whatever." Yoongi sets down his silverware. "I'm gonna Uber home." He tosses you his credit card and it slides across the wooden table and stops right in front of your dish. "And I'm going to write a Yelp review of this shitty place."

"You're not a fucking entitled writer! Stop acting like one!" you call out to him as he turns his back to you and storms away.

You end up eating dinner at a restaurant by yourself. Yoongi's right, the place is shitty, and the food is bland, but it's not downright intolerable.

Often, these days, it feels like your relationship with Yoongi is spiraling downward. The two of you cannot seem to agree on anything. It reminds you when you'd hated him in your younger years. But you can't hate him now; you live with him.

He's unavoidable.

Usually, Yoongi drives. The car feels foreign to you only because you normally don't sit in the driver's seat. The short mixtape of songs Yoongi wrote and produced for you plays the moment you turn on the engine. He'd gifted that to you a few months ago, after one of your bigger fights. You let the soft serenades play as you drive home.

No matter how many times you and Yoongi fight, the two of you make it up to each other somehow. There is no fight without a resolution. Yoongi will be waiting for you when you get home.

And he is. He's waiting with a blueberry yogurt cake from Paris Baguette sitting on the kitchen island and a letter in his hand. A written apology. Because Yoongi thinks he conveys his feelings better in writing than with spoken words.

"I'm sorry for storming off..." he says almost shyly. The man is nearly twenty-five years old but he sounds and looks like a guilty child with his lips pulled out in a pout and his eyes glancing nervously at your face to see if you weren't going to yell at him. "I, uh... didn't write the Yelp review."

How can you stay mad at that?

"And I wrote you an apology..."

You walk closer to your boyfriend and hug him. "Thank you..."

"Yeah," he says. "And good news, the cake will be really flavorful compared to what you had for dinner."

You smile. "Good thinking."

After a storm, there is always a rainbow. When there is a down, there is an up. And vice versa.

"Can we please stop planning every single fucking second of our lives?" Yoongi says exasperatedly. He flings away the brochure you had handed him that detailed the week's trip to Hawaii down to the last minute. "We're going on vacation. This makes me feel like I'm going to a stupid summer camp."

"If we're going to Hawaii, we shouldn't just relax around in the hotel all day, Yoongi," you scoff, gathering the abandoned brochure and tugging it to your chest. "There's stuff to see on the islands. We need to try everything my friends did! Why would we even go to Hawaii if we're not going to do these fun activities?"

"Come on. 7 o'clock breakfast? 8 o'clock hiking up to the falls? 10 o'clock scuba diving in the ocean? 12 o'clock lunch at the top of a big ass hill that we have to climb up ourselves? 1 o'clock zip-lining meters in the air? 2 o'clock festival? I could go on, but isn't that too much? When can we breathe?" Yoongi shakes his head. "No way. And all of that's just in one day. And the second day is even worse. Y/N, I want to go there to rest."

"If you wanted to rest, then you can do it at home," you argue. "Why go to Hawaii to rest?"

"There are different types of resting," Yoongi sighs. "What's a better way to fall asleep than in front of the ocean? We get to relax in a hotel, which means we won't have to make our beds or cook our meals or even do the dishes. That's relaxing for me."

"Well, it's not relaxing enough for me."

"Come on, Y/N. We went to Banff and you planned every single second of the trip there. I thought it was miserable. Can we please relax just once? For literally one trip?"

"But I already booked everything..."

Yoongi curses. "Why are you always four steps ahead of everything? It's unnecessary!"

"Maybe I'm not four steps ahead and you're just four steps behind!"

"Oh, so you're telling me that everyone else in the world plans their days down to the last second." Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Bullshit, Y/N."

"It's not my fault you're so—so, fucking lazy!"

"I'm not lazy!" Yoongi's eyes flash as he slams the dinner table. "You're just too high maintenance! Fucking nobody can keep up with you!" Before you can react or even yell back, he pushes his chair away and stands up, stomping away in a fury. You can hear him enter his study. There's that familiar door slam again. And the click of the lock means you won't be getting in that room anytime soon.

You're left by yourself, clutching the Hawaii brochure to your chest. A little angry at yourself but a lot madder at your boyfriend. With a bitter scream, you toss the brochure in the trash and curl up in a ball at the side of the couch.

But the thing about you and Yoongi is that with time and space, you recognize each other's perspectives. The rest is history.

Three hours just crying out your pent-up anger gets the irritation out of your system. By the time you're done though, you're a little hungry and guilty. You make a few phone calls and switch things around.

"Hey." You knock on the door of Yoongi's study. You're too afraid to turn the knob yourself. "I know you're in there."

No answer.

"I canceled the excessive activities..." you whisper against the door. "We can plan the trip together... I mean, better yet, we don't even have to plan anything at all... We can be..."—it pains you to say but—"spontaneous."

"Go away. I'm trying to work."

Sometimes Yoongi takes a bit longer than you to come around.

But by dinnertime, he's crept out of his study and has already ordered takeout from your favorite restaurant. The steaming pile of white rice and perfect side dishes lie on the dinner table, waiting for you. He waits for you too.

"I got a new client," he says, looking down at his hands. "And I got your favorite food." You notice that he's holding the Hawaii brochure you'd thrown away. It's a little wet on the sides. Maybe because Yoongi had to wipe off the remnants of the leftovers in the trash that had stuck onto the paper. Your boyfriend finally looks up at you. Shyly. Almost cautiously. "Wanna compromise?"

"Compromise?"

"We plan half of the trip and wing the rest of it," he offers. Yoongi slides you the brochure. "See, so I was thinking..."

You've always hated roller coasters. They are almost always unpredictable with head-jerking twists and turns that bring you closer to vomiting the contents of your stomach rather than pure bliss. There are one too many ups and downs.

Yoongi likes to joke that your relationship with him is a roller coaster. Only because there are too many dips that rocket up to the sky only to plummet down again. You disagree. Because, eventually, no matter how shitty the ride is, roller coasters do end. Your relationship with Yoongi is not over.

You like to compare your relationship with Yoongi like the ocean waves. But during a tsunami. The ups are great; the towering waves give you a beautiful vantage point. And it's all fun and games until the waves crash down on everything you once loved, destroying them. And the process repeats so much that in the end, there is nothing left.

That's what you feel now. Empty.

Alone in the bed with Yoongi downstairs and nowhere to be seen near you.

After a while, even the highs of the relationship makes you feel numb. The lows wreck you past your breaking point. It takes more time to find resolutions—the fights go on for longer than days, even weeks.

When you were younger, fighting with Yoongi was irritating at most. Now, they leave you sobbing and drinking alone in the corner of the bathroom. But it's so late in the game.

You've known Yoongi for over eighteen years of your life, since kindergarten. You keep telling yourself that he's the only one in the world who could understand you; and you're the only one in the world who can understand him. But other than that, you can't find another reason why you're with him.

Sometimes, you listen back to the mixtape he made you years ago. The lyrics don't apply to you now. And this year, for your birthday, he half-assed a letter for you last-minutely because he was 'busy.' Busy drinking with his friends the night before. You've stopped planning your dates for months.

Actually, when was the last time you went on a date with him?

You can't recall.

Maybe the back and forth arguing you and Yoongi had gone through in the majority of your relationship was a sign—a bad sign. If only you hadn't met him on the seesaw that day. Then maybe none of this would've happened.

You might be dating someone you have things in common with. Maybe someone you don't argue with as much.

Falling asleep with tears in your eyes that keep the pillow wet until morning is an occurrence that you're too familiar with. It is an occurrence you want to stop. When Yoongi isn't downstairs by morning, you're thrown into further misery. He usually works from home... He must be really angry to leave without saying anything.

You eat breakfast by yourself. Lunch consists of ramen. And dinner... Yoongi's still not home so you skip the meal altogether.

By 9 p.m., you look at your phone. You don't want to be the first person to break—the first person to apologize—but you worry. Will he hang up on you? Tell you to go away? The possibilities seem endless.

So much thinking hurts your head. Some fresh air might do the trick. Before you know it, you're wandering around a familiar rusty playground again. It brings back childhood memories. When your hand trails across the paint-chipped monkey bars, you're brought back to when you were only six years old. The towering obstacle had looked so big when you were little. Now, you could easily cross the bars by simply walking.

It's strange to see the once-bustling playground be completely empty and in the dark. You hear that they're going to tear down this place to construct a little convenience store so no one must've visited this playground in a very long time. You'll miss it when it's gone. You had a lot of fun around here.

Just as that thought passes through your head, your eye catches sight of the seesaw.

Ah, the start of everything.

Slowly, you walk towards it. Each step makes your feet sink further in the smoothed over gravel but you manage to sit at the very edge of the seesaw. Immediately, the other side flings up in the air. It reminds you of when you flung Yoongi in the air. A pretty funny memory. But not right now. Thinking about Yoongi now hurts.

You hate it when you start to contemplate the worst-case scenario. A breakup. Moving out. Stress. Tears.

You run your fingers across the rusty handle of the seesaw. Hopefully, things don't come to that. But how much longer can you handle the arguments? They seem to be elongating as time passes. What if one day, the argument lasts a month? Several months? A year?

If there is one thing in your life that you strive to achieve, it's predictability. With Yoongi, there is none of that. He makes last-minute plans out of nowhere and doesn't tell you until the last second. Then you have to go on a frenzy to reschedule everything. It is a cycle that you've become sick of. And he's sick of you planning everything.

That has been the issue of the last ten fights.

The same issue.

And it's unfixable.

You and Yoongi are rock bottom on the very floor of the Mariana Trench. The back and forth game of banter has turned into something more serious, and it just isn't as light-hearted and funny anymore.

"Hey."

You nearly fall off the seesaw at the sound of Yoongi's voice. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and he looks like he was awake for more than 24 hours.

"H-Hey," you say.

"The seesaw, huh?"

"Yeah." You nod. "The seesaw."

Yoongi smiles but it's not a very happy one. Even now, you don't think either one of you wants to apologize for the fight.

"I've been thinking," Yoongi sighs. He doesn't spare you another glance before he sits on the other side of the seesaw. You're suddenly jerked up in the air. There used to be a balance but it seems like Yoongi's gained some weight—or you've lost a lot. "Remember when I said our relationship is like a rollercoaster?"

"And I said I disagreed."

"Right." Yoongi sighs. "I take that back. We're not like a rollercoaster. We're in a game."

"A game?"

Yoongi gestures at the seesaw. "This is our game."

"...The seesaw?" You raise an eyebrow at the man but Yoongi doesn't budge.

"Yes. Look." Yoongi pushes off the gravel with his feet, putting himself in the air while sinking you to the ground. "And when you push..." Following his words, you launch yourself back in the air. Yoongi looks up at you as he sighs. "We're always on opposite sides, opposite places."

"Even when we try to balance," he continues, trying to lift his body to bring you down to the same level as him, "we fail." He ends up higher than you now and you look up at him.

"Some game this is..." you mutter.

"It's a game of ups and downs," Yoongi tells you. "It's tiring, isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"And like all games... there is an end."

You raise both eyebrows. "Oh."

"From day one, you know... we weren't really supposed to get along," Yoongi says. "But somehow seeing each other every day, bickering with each other... all of that let us be in closer proximity with each other. And then we thought we were meant to be."

"You're analyzing our relationship?" you scoff.

"Don't act like you haven't done the same, Y/N."

You're silent.

"It doesn't matter whether we love each other at this point, Y/N... Does it? Love or not, I don't think I can live like this."

It's ridiculous. You're having a grown-up discussion possibly leading to a breakup on a fucking seesaw of all places.

"You want to separate?" Your voice comes out smaller than you expected. When it becomes a reality, it's much harder to digest.

"You've been thinking about it too, right?" Yoongi sighs. "I mean, I heard you call your mom the other day. And it didn't sound too good."

Guilty. "Well, yeah, I've been thinking about it... Just... I just didn't think it'd become a reality so soon." And you always thought you would have initiated the breakup, not the other way around.

"Yeah... I felt bad you always took initiative with things so I decided to save you the stress and do it myself."

"Wow. Thanks." You shake your head. "Real thoughtful."

"Right?" Yoongi grins. "I don't think a lot will change if we break up. We've always hated each other a little."

You let out a wry laugh. "I'll never forgive you for calling me fat."

"And I'll never forgive you for calling me stupid."

"Looks like we're even."

"Yeah, for once." Yoongi shrugs. "I guess we can be platonic roommates until I find another apartment."

"Sounds good to me." You ignore the tears welling up in your eyes as you try to smile. "Let's get off this seesaw to seal the deal then."

"The end of the game." Yoongi's voice shakes just enough for you to know he's crying.

And as the two of you walk back to your shared apartment with tears streaming down your faces, you realize you wouldn't have it any other way. A breakup any later would be regretful—even wasteful of time. A breakup any earlier would've left you to separate forever. A breakup now is perfect.

You're acquainted enough to still possibly be friends. But not bound by marriage to make the procedure worse and more complicated.

Of course, you love Yoongi. But sometimes, you love the wrong people—the people you don't belong with, the people who won't make you happy. You're just glad you didn't run away in the beginning. Yoongi taught you a difficult rivalry, a difficult friendship, a difficult relationship. But you don't always have to go the hard way.

When a relationship becomes like a game—repetitive with the addition of wins and losses—that's when you know you can stop.

You'll be on the easy route now and find someone who is as crazy about planning as you.

You look up at Yoongi. His cheeks are wet with tears but he doesn't necessarily look sad. Instead, he looks hopeful. Like he'll find somebody who can appreciate his love for leaving sarcastic Yelp reviews or somebody who loves spontaneity as much as he does.

And when he finds that special somebody, you'll be happy for Yoongi. But, of course, not before you tease the living shit out of him first.

—masterpost

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #propinquity #okay let's pretend i totally posted this fic last friday #like halfway thru this week #i remembered i never posted on friday omg clown #🤡🤡 i don't even think i've been on social media #school rlly said no❤️

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

Panem Hunger Center

Author: @norbertsmom

Prompt: How about for November Peeta and Katniss meet while helping out at a food kitchen on or around Thanksgiving. [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Rating: T

Author’s Note: Happy Thanksgiving to all of our American readers. Special thanks goes out to my beta and bestie @mega-aulover.

_________

I’m getting too old for this stuff, but here goes nothin’. The room is full of laughter as I make my way up to the podium to begin my speech. The room quiets as I take the microphone.

Some of you might not know me, but my name is Sae. Most folks around here call me Greasy Sae, and I’ve been working at the Panem Hunger Center since we started it up back in the day. I’d like to tell you a little something about our wonderful Katniss.

All eyes in the crowd turn to Katniss and I can see the blush on her face.

Katniss came to the Panem Hunger Center as a client when she was just a young girl, only 11 years old. Scrawny thing, she was too. Dripping wet from the cold and rainy night that would chill most folks to the bone, but our dear Katniss was determined to find a way to feed her family that late April night.

You see, her father had passed away 3 months prior and her mother was doing poorly. Katniss took it upon herself to take care of not only herself and her distraught mother, but her younger sister too. Katniss traded and sold off what little belonging she could, but once the cupboards were bare, she headed out to trade what had to be the last of her worldly possessions, some old baby clothes her sister had grown out of. Unfortunately, no one was buying.

Somehow, Katniss managed to stumble into our doors. I like to think it was the smell of my soup cooking that brought her in. She was so small, shivering and wet, but fierce just the same. Katniss wandered over to the serving table, but was reluctant at first to take anything for free. I took the baby clothes as a trade, but she didn’t think it was enough. She was adamant that she had to pay her way, so I gave her a promise that she could earn her food by coming to work for the center when she wasn’t at school. We packed up 3 meals and Katniss was on her way.

I tell ya, I wasn’t really expecting to see her again, but bright and early that next morning, there was Katniss waiting on the stoop ready to work off her supposed debt. But at the end of the day, I’d send her home with more food and she’d be back again the next weekend.

Eventually, Katniss brought her mother and baby sister with her. I praised the Lord that day, because to me that proved that Katniss really trusted us. She knew we wouldn’t try to separate them. We got her mama some help and eventually the whole family was on the mend.

Katniss kept coming back, though. She really came alive when she worked here. Katniss was always the first to step up, whether it was helping serve folks in the dining room, washing dishes in the back, organizing stocks, or planning to go out fundraising door to door. Katniss was all in. I think she really found her calling, her purpose in life when she walked through our doors.

Katniss would bring in her friends every now and then to help out. She’d bring in that tall fella she hung around with, but she didn’t seem to see him as anything more than a friend. Even our old director’s grandson, Finnick Odair didn’t turn our girl’s head. And all the girls liked him. Katniss paid him no mind. I thought maybe she was into girls, or wasn’t into anyone, but one day, I found out different.

One day about a week before Thanksgiving our dear Katniss was on break from college, working the phones to drum up help from around town. She had been calling up restaurants, coffee shops and bakeries to get them to lend a hand for the holiday. Sure, folk are hungry all year ‘round, but we get an influx of clients on Thanksgiving. A potential new bread supplier walked in the door that day, and she hasn’t been the same ever since.

This fella, Peeta Mellark, from Mellark’s Bakery walked in with broad shoulders and blond hair and Katniss stopped dead in her tracks. Katniss was stumbling all over herself trying to talk to him. I’d never seen the girl flustered before. She had no trouble talking to the likes of Plutarch Heavensbee, the chairman of the board of Panem’s television networks, but in walks this humble baker and Katniss turns to jelly. When I asked her about it later, she’d told me she hadn’t eaten yet and it was the smell of the food he brought in that made her stomach rumble.

She eventually pulled herself together and gave him the tour and took him to her office to make the partnership official. We could hear laughter coming down the hall. Katniss is usually all business. Deep down, she’s a sweet passionate person who dedicates her life to make sure everyone is taken care of, but the girl hardly ever laughs.

That laughter was music to my ears. Day after day, a smile would brighten Katniss’ face whenever Peeta walked in the door. Every day he brought her something new, samples of the recipes he was trying out, he said, but her favorite was always the cheese buns. She said that his cheese buns were to die for.

Peeta even came in and helped serve clients on Thanksgiving. Most of our suppliers are satisfied that they did their part by providing food, but he was here handing out plates of turkey and dressing, clearing off tables, and bumping elbows and sharing smiles with Katniss while doing the dishes at the end of the night.

I really loved seeing Katniss so happy, but that son of a gun Finnick Odair had to go and tease her about it. The next day, Peeta brought Katniss a bouquet of yellow flowers, but Katniss said she couldn’t accept them for herself. She thanked him and put them on a table in the dining room and walked back to her office. After that, he unloaded his delivery and set the bag with her two cheese buns on her desk and walked out. I’d never seen a sadder man than him that day. How Katniss could resist those big sad puppy dog eyes, I’ll never know. To tell the truth, I didn’t think he’d come back after that, but the man lived up to his commitment to serve the community.

It went on like that for a while, both of them being professional and distant, staring at each other when the other wasn’t looking. And being down right stupid. I could see the girl was miserable too. I caught her more than once glancing at those flowers longingly. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I sat her down and we had a chat. Somehow she got it in her head that to be taken seriously she couldn’t let her guard down. This place came before everything except her sister and her mother. But what kind of life is that? She worked so hard when she was just a girl to keep her family afloat, only to give up on a possible future now? Balderdash!

I told her she was torturing herself, denying herself the thing that she wanted most. I told her to go for it. So the next time Mr. Mellark came in to drop off bread for the center, Katniss quietly asked him back to her office once again. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was very quiet. I snuck down the hall to see what was going on only to find Peeta, with his back pressed against the door, engaged in a passionate kiss with our very own Katniss.

I hated to do it, but got their attention, by knocking on the window to Katniss’ office. They jumped apart like the other was on fire. Both glassy eyed with red lips and pink cheeks. Oh to be young again. Anyway, I told them to get out of there. I’d take care of things for the day. Take some time to get to know each other.

That was two years ago. Katniss has since graduated from her program at Panem University, and now that Mags has retired, I’m proud to raise a toast to our newest director of the Panem Hunger Center, Mrs. Katniss Everdeen-Mellark.

I raise my glass and look over to a smiling Katniss who mouths “Thank you,” through her teary smile. Peeta is seated next to her grinning with his arm wrapped around her.

After a sip of champagne and cheers all around I finish with my speech. Remember folks, indifference breeds indifference, but kindness breeds love.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #norbertsmom #submission #prompt

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cuinnamonbun · 3 years

Text

I’m so sorry this took so long! I’ve been so swamped with my work and figuring out how each individual brother would react in the situation :( A bit of warning though, I’m still not quite familiar with Belphie’s character, I had to work with what little I knew of him by reading through every Belphie stan rant about him, the text messages/phone calls that we get from him and the Obey Me wikia page so I’m really sorry if I destroyed his character here >.< !!! But all of that aside, I hope that this is still enjoyable and readable to all of you :)

And of course, a massive thank you to @dawndustleo for the request!!

Big brothers’ reactions here!

Part 2 of How the Brothers React to Accidentally Falling in Love with a Devout Muslim MC (Little Brothers)

Satan

Ah, yes. Our resident academic

Satan did not like our cute lil MC when he first met them (and they him) and these two were wary of each other

Honestly, the only reason these two would even become friends in the first place is because of MC tbh

I doubt Satan would approach them willingly in the hopes of making friends. At most, he would only converse with them to add to his impressive list of connections or for his own personal gain (cough making Lucifer miserable cough)

The more he spends time with them though, Satan slowly unravels the layers that make MC the person that they are and he’d be shocked at the depth of character they present since he usually just thinks all religious people are numbskulls and mindless sheep anyway

But MC managed to surprise him by demonstrating a wisdom to them that he has yet to associate with any human. Sure, it may not be as profound as Kant’s or Nietzsche, but any questions regarding theology or morality that Satan would throw at them for fun (with the sadistic intent of watching them blunder in their answer) MC managed to answer it as honest as they could

To him, most people are predictable

Where most people would reply with a simple “i dunno”, MC did not and it was during these interrogations chatting sessions that Satan could truly admire the rawness of MC’s soul. Be it in the way they viewed the world or their thought process. Satan would be in complete awe of the world that they view through their lenses

Devout Muslims spend most of their life trying to live up to the example of their beloved Prophet Muhammad (may peace be unto him) and MC is no exception to this, their time in the Devildom would make it harder but they’d definitely hold on strong, especially with the angels there as well c:

So even if most of their answers would have something to do with God, the inherent longing and yearning in their voice would be enough to move even him

It’s this part of them that really started his infatuation with MC. They were so pure and virtuous that they were kind to even him, the sworn enemy of every believing Muslim in the world. They looked past his Wrath and understood him and his complexities that often, they would help Satan realise his own mysteries

Unlike the other brothers though, Satan was hyperconscious of MC’s choice in religion

So the second he realised he was in love with them, his sin consumes him and he would destroy anything within sight and cursing God’s name to, well, Hell

When he finally calms down, that’s when the heartache sets in for him ;(

Because even if MC reciprocates his feelings, their devotion to God would far, far outweigh their love for him and they would always choose Him over Satan

Asmodeus

Asmodeus’ idea of love had always been skewed since the minute he fell from Heaven

Maybe he did experience true love back when he was an angel, but that had been so long ago that he’d almost forgotten how it feels like

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s love language is extremely physical. It doesn’t have to be inherently suggestive but even the more innocent touches like a simple hug or even hand holding could escalate into something risqué

It’s not like he intentionally sets it off too. It’s his sin!! He can’t help it if a friendly hug pitches a tent in his pants!!

Like Lucifer, Asmo would first pursue MC for less-than-pure gains

He revels in attention from anyone and anything, if that person shows the least bit of attention to him (especially sexually) he WILL feel genuinely offended, like he’s not good enough

And with MC’s piety and immunity from Asmo’s charm, he would absolutely see MC as nothing more than a goal, a forbidden fruit, or the highest win one can get in a lottery

He would amp up his seduction and sin to the max level that even his brothers had to leave the room because it was so overpowering it began to mess with their heads and I can see MC not being okay with that and this would upset them a lot

Lucifer will have to force Asmo to apologise to MC every time this happens (a lot) and though his apologies are sarcastic and obviously ingenuine, MC was always so forgiving and so kind, treating him more than just lust embodied. With their high resistance against his charms, Asmo knows that MC is genuine in their want to be his friend

And this would definitely cause his heart to palpitate and soar in happiness. Because for the first time, someone is interested in him, his person rather than his body, his looks or his status as one of the seven Demon Lords of the Devildom

The constant impure thoughts of what he wanted to do with MC once they finally fall under his charm slowly turned into wholesome ones, with him thinking of the best ways he can make them smile like that one time when he said something that was truly amusing to them

He still won’t realise this though because the change had been a slow and steady one. The only way he would realise that he is utterly besotted and head over heels for MC is when MC had accidentally tripped and fell into his arms...and he felt nothing. Well, other than genuine concern and worry of course

He would be so shocked by that fact and he would run to Satan to confirm what he already knew

When he finally comes to terms with it, he was ecstatic and a little nervous. It’s his first time loving someone other than himself and he was so, so excited to share this happy news to MC

Unfortunately, MC would be forced to turn him down as gently as they could, explaining the reasons why. I would imagine it would hurt for MC to do this because they would never ever want to cause him pain 🥺

Asmo would be so shocked. Because why in hell would you ever turn him down? Because he was so sure that MC reciprocated his feelings. They were always so kind to him, so warm and gentle. Had he misread the signs?

Asmo would give them a fake smile and assure them that it’s fine, that they were much better off as friends anyway even though MC didn’t look like they believed him

Asmo would act joyful as he usually did, but his brothers and MC knew that it was all an act, and while his brothers didn’t understand what’d happened (with the exception of Satan) it would absolutely crush them to see the most joyous of the brothers so dejected, even if he’d try his best to hide it

When MC left the Devildom, Lucifer will have to deal with the influxes of bills his little brother has accumulated from the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed trying to forget about them

Beelzebub

Unlike his older brothers, Beel fell in love with MC real quick

This demon is a big sweetheart and he treasures his family a lot, so I can definitely see him falling in love with a kind MC

Devout Muslim MC would always be on the lookout to help other people wherever they go and when they found Beel sad and hungry, they gave up their lunch for him

When they found out that Beel’s stomach is just practically a black hole, MC would take it upon themselves to learn how to cook all kinds of cuisines (if they couldn’t already) just so they could keep Beel fed and to make sure he doesn’t go around eating inedible stuff

“Beel! Don’t eat that, that is a plate. Come on honey, let me go prepare you a cheeseburger or a dozen, okay?”

Beel fell in love with them right then and there

With how his brothers have had to keep up with his everlasting hunger, they would definitely give up trying to feed him because one, it’s impossible to keep up with the Avatar of Gluttony’s appetite and two, they’re demons, they don’t do Good Samaritan deeds

In order to maintain their grades AND keep up with Beel’s black hole of a stomach, MC developed a little schedule that they taped above their desk and their bed, as well as digitalized a copy in their DDD to allocate their time wisely

When Beel found out about this, he paused. He paused, then gawked, then engulfed MC in a huge hug because no one has ever done anything like that for him and just knowing the extra lengths they went for him made his heart stutter

Mammon: What the hell, MC you made all of this for Beel?????

MC: You know what they say *putting a buffet of food in front of an awed Beel* The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach *pats Beel’s tummy with a smile*

Beel: *dying from blushing*

From that point on, he started following them like a lost puppy. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they constantly have little snacks on them for him but it was more so because he wanted their company

MC is patient with him and constantly smiles at him which drives his heart crazy and whenever he returns to his shared bedroom with Belphie, he always had this big dopey smile on him as he talked to Belphie about his day with MC and what they did and what MC wore and how cute they were looking at the different plush toys on display at the mall-

Belphie loves his twin but for the love of hell, please just let him sleep

But when Beel told him that he planned to confess to them, all traces of drowsiness would disappear from Belphie and he would have to explain to Beel on why that would be a bad idea

Of course Belphie would do so gently, but there was a heavy hint of urgency and worry in Belphie’s tone that Beel couldn’t ignore

That was the night Belphie would hold Beel while he cried himself to sleep :(

Despite knowing that they weren’t meant to be, Beel would still hang around them even if their mere presence would cause his heart to seize. It wasn’t their fault and Beel would never hold something like this against them. It just isn’t in his nature

Even if MC reciprocated his feelings, he would never pursue anything more with them despite his heart jumping for joy because he knew it would deeply hurt his MC in the long run

It was precisely because of his love for MC that he would let them go, even if it pained him to do so

When MC left the Devildom, Beel tried his best to continue living his life as it were before but sometimes, he felt as though he might just let his hunger and heartbreak take over him 💔

Belphegor

Being the Avatar of Sloth, Belphie is well aware of the recurring nightmares MC has had since he first killed them. But even without his status as the lord of sleep, one could notice. It was that obvious

MC suffered trauma because of him and Belphie will carry that guilt with him to the end of his days

The first few weeks, MC is notably wary of him; preferring to stick with Mammon or Lucifer during group activities, leaving the room whenever he was there and coming up with excuses to leave on the spot whenever he would sit next to them during meals

It brought him and his brothers terrible sadness to see their human change from a bright little thing to a meek little animal, trembling down to their knees. It reminded them of when MC first came to the Devildom; lost and fearful

But eventually MC would finally start interacting with Belphie; you know, a simple hello and no immediate fleeing whenever he wanders into a room. Baby steps, y’know? They would still cling to Lucifer or Mammon though

He would be so confused about it

Like, hello? I am your murderer?? Why are you trying to befriend me???

Like, this man really thought that they were going to spend the entirety of the exchange program just ignoring him. Not that he would blame them

But MC was so determined on moving past that and the least he could do was humour them

He would make sure that they were comfortable every time they interacted; which meant no sudden moves, no being an asshole to them, speaking politely to them and just giving them space in general

It won’t take long for MC to fully be comfortable around him again and trust him enough to form a pact with him

Now that MC is able to relax around him, MC and Belphie would be frequently hanging out with each other due in large part to Beelzebub who is just really, REALLY glad that his two favourite people finally like each other now 🥺🥺

In time, they would be able to trust each other enough to reveal the deepest parts of themselves to each other and the first time it happened, Belphie cried and MC...to his surprise, was not a stifling presence

They were silent as they listened to him speak, their attention rapt on him as he bared his soul to them and their presence was warm and comforting as he cried, with no judgment of any sort to be found

That was when he would truly start to fall in love with them and though he realised that MC would probably reject his advances if he were to pursue anything more with them, it didn’t stop him from trying at all

He found a good human not just for himself, but also for Beel and the rest of his brothers, he wasn’t going to let them go that easily

He finally understood why his little sister sacrificed all that she was to be with her human lover and he really thought that their circumstances were similar (spoiler alert it’s not)

His love for MC was absolutely genuine, which would make this all the more terrifying because he would truly believe that what he was doing was the best thing for them

Belphie is cunning and highly manipulative, he would most definitely attempt to skew MC’s devotion to God and attempt to convince her that the Devildom has much better things to offer than the Celestial Realm

He would try his absolute hardest to get them to stay with him in their realm

“Oh, speaking of God, back when I was an angel, did you know this one time He tried to...” “Do you have to pray now? You could always do it later, you know. I mean, He is Ar-Rahim, the Most Merciful right? He’ll understand”

Devout or not, he will break through their strong will and convince MC to leave their religious path all the while pretending to support them and their religious freedom

If MC reciprocated his feelings, he would be overjoyed because this makes it a HUNDRED times easier for him to persuade them to stay with him and be with him forever

And it’s true, with his silver tongue and patience, he could absolutely crumble MC’s devotion to God if MC’s not careful

If Belphie was unsuccessful with his attempts to keep them with him forever, he would be absolutely enraged by it

“They’re MINE! You stay away from them! I am so irrevocably in love them and I REFUSE to let Him have them!”

He would probably most definitely start a war with the Celestial Realm over this

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me #satan x mc obey me #asmo x mc obey me #beel x mc obey me #belphie x mc obey me #obey me x muslim!mc #muslim!mc #swd satan #swd asmodeus #swd beelzebub #swd belphegor

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bundleofyarrow · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8 - Motostoke is here!

it took me a while but finally chapter 8 is finished! so much happens, and hopefully there’s enough surprise in there for you all <3 you finally arrive in Motostoke and there’s barely enough time to make it to the opening ceremony! here is the link to read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087343/chapters/71401200 but you can also read it below the cut! would absolutely love any and all feedback <3

Motostoke

The entrance to Motostoke was a grand, brick-lined staircase, like a bridge into a fortress. It’s intimidating. Coming closer to the steps, you realize how this feels like a gate to the rest of Galar, and you’ve been contained to a little tiny pocket this entire time. Your thumbs graze the straps of your bag hanging from your shoulders as you contemplate this. Things are going to get more serious from now on, aren’t they?

A chill runs up your arms, the cool morning air brushing past you. The sun hasn’t yet peeked over the cliffs of the Wild Area, casting sleepy shadows across the field.

“We’ve made it!”

Milo clearly is used to being awake right at dawn, and has gently ushered you from your sleeping bag while it was still dark and along the walls until you reached the stairs of Motostoke. Most of your Pokemon were too sleepy to do the walk, only Wooloo, Milo’s Pokemon, and the wild Pancham followed along with you. Wooloo refused to not walk pressed up against your legs, and not being particularly agile this early in the morning, tripped you at a pretty consistent rate. Instead of saying something to the Wooloo, Milo instead opted for you to hang onto his arm.

But here you are, literally steps away from civilization. You take out your phone to text Leon that you arrived, and he quickly replies that he’s getting Charizard to come retrieve you.

Your mind was preoccupied wishing for a warm shower when you hear some shuffling behind you. Turning, you see Pancham kicking her feet a bit. Wooloo turns with you, and decides to sleepily trot over to her. You crouch down in front of her, not feeling particularly coherent, but knowing you should say something.

“It was so sweet of you to join us for some camping. Did you enjoy yourself?” You offer you hand, and she brushes her check against it, nodding. “I can tell you made friends with my Pokemon, right Wooloo?”

Wooloo nuzzles against Pancham, making her eyes glisten. From your periphery, you notice Milo intently watching your exchange, keeping quiet. Reaching to one of your bag pockets, you fish out a Pokeball, and show it to her.

“I won’t force you to come with me, but if you want, you join .” Your eyes still squint in tiredness, but you’re able to muster a genuine smile for Pancham.

The Pokemon takes the device into her paws, staring at it for a bit. She stares across the lake, probably back to where you found her. Wooloo gives an encouraging baaah, nudging Pancham. You gesture to the knob. “Just press that button, but only if you want.”

With a few more moments of contemplation, a bright flash of light envelops Pancham and she enters the Pokeball. There aren’t many more movements, and it clicks into place. You’re quick to let her back out, giving her a hug. “Welcome to the team!”

You stand as Wooloo takes over hugging duties, and Pancham looks happy. You look over to Milo, who has a more serious look on his face than you were expecting. His brow is scrunched and it looks like he is really considering something.

“Everything okay, Milo?”

He jumps a bit, clearly lost in thought. Milo blinks a few times and presses his lips together, like he’s steeling himself for something. You didn’t notice it before, but he was clasping an envelope in his hand. First, he whispers your name, then quickly shakes his head and steps closer to you.

“I know this is sudden but-” You notice he’s turning red. “I have to hurry ‘n meet Nessa for somethin’. I hate rushin’ off like this, but, I could also use a favor.” He offers the envelope, which you assume inside is a letter, to you. “You’re goin’ to the openin’ ceremony, right? If you’re gettin’ there early, can you give this to the person at the front desk?”

You take the letter from him, flipping it over to notice green stamp in the shape of a leaf. “Sure, of course! It’s the least I can do for all the help you’ve given me. I’ll make sure to arrive early.” You pocket it safely. “I guess this is goodbye?”

He gives you a quick nod. “For now, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon!” Milo begins to move backwards towards the stairs, waving. He really seems to want to run off, turning and scaling the steps towards the city, his Pokemon floating around him and making sounds as if they were chiding him. It was much like how it happened over at Route 1, breezing into and out of your life. You wish you were able to get his number, or any other sort of contact. You make a mental note to visit Turffield, once you learn where it is.

Returning your Pokemon to their Pokeballs, you begin to climb the steps. Ambient noise of both the river and the city ease into your senses as you progress upwards. You hear what you come to see are large rotating gears and streams of steam leaking into the sky above. A feeling of excitement rises from your chest as you finally make it to the top, taking in the view of a bustling city. It’s such a contrast to the quiet of Postwick and Wedgehurst and the utter remoteness of the Wild Area. People mill about on the bridge crossing the river and in the distance more dense crowds hustle to their destinations.

The sound of your name breaks your reverie, and in the middle distance you see someone sprinting towards you. You barely have the time to react before Leon nearly crashes into you, pulling you into a big bear hug. Shocked, you gently place your hands on his back. Behind him you see onlookers starting and Charizard making his way over.

“You’re here! Thank Arceus you’re actually alright.”

Smiling, you close your eyes and give him a proper friendly squeeze. “I promised, didn’t I?” Your face was pressed into his shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating from presumably his run over.

“I know but… I just had to see you myself to believe it.” Leon pulls away, and begins to realize the closeness of your bodies before letting go quickly. “Sorry- didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Leon.” You smile softly as you both tear up.

A huff comes from behind him, and Leon makes room for Charizard to say hello. You pet him, but you can’t help but notice people are gawking a bit.

“Shall we get out of here?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Please, I need to shower so badly!”

“I wasn’t going to say that out loud, but-” Leon’s cut short by you poking him in the side in retaliation. When he reacts strongly, you do it a few more times. “Stop! That’s my type weakness!” Who would have known the Champion of Galar was ticklish?

Rolling your eyes and petting Charizard one more time, the three of you crossed the bridge into Motostoke proper. However it became clear navigating through the city wouldn’t be as straight forward as you thought. Leon was attracting a constant influx of fans, probably because more trainers and sports fans are in the city than usual because of the ceremony. You could tell that it pained him turn down autographs and selfies, he would only stop and do a few at a time before apologizing.

“Sorry everyone, I have to get her back to the hotel.” This drew more curiosity your way. You weren’t sure how you felt about the attention. “But after the opening ceremony, there will be plenty of Champion Time!” He strikes that dramatic pose of his and the crowds cheers. Leon nods at Charizard. “Lead the way, mate!”

Charizard takes off and Leon runs after him, leaving you to scramble keeping up. Every once in a while Leon would look back over his shoulder at you, as if checking that you were actually there still with him.

Motostoke was characterized by its red bricks and industrial metal, giving you the feeling that even though this was a city, it was full of working class folk and had more of a big town vibe. You noticed people in what looks like mining overalls, and plenty of off-duty watt traders. There were more second-hand stores and plant nurseries than anything fancy. It was an interesting contrast with the trendy stores on the main thoroughfare in the center of the city. But there was still plenty of motion, much more than you usually see in Alolan cities. The train cruised through the city at timed intervals, and large flying Pokemon you’ve never seen before pick up and drop off passengers in compact cars. You tried to remember some stores for visiting later before you got on the moving platform that brought you to the second level of the city.

“Woah, this is so cool!”

Leon couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction. He’s been focused on making his way through the crowd after Charizard, waving at people who call out his name, signing a shirt or two along the way, but trying not to get too distracted.

“I used to ride this all the time as kid whenever my family visited. Mum would yell at me for pressing the button too many times, said it made her motion sick.”

Charizard shook his head, leading the two of you off the platform. You see crowds lining up to enter a large building, with intermittent cheering and Pokemon cries. In particular, there was a loud group of fans in black and pink yelling the loudest for a particular challenger they had banners for. Galar… really takes this gym challenge seriously, doesn’t it? There was even a figure dancing around in what you assumed to be a Pokeball costume, handing out Pokeballs to everyone and encouraging children to enter the challenge when they were older.

“That’s Motostoke Stadium, where the opening ceremony is. I’ll be able to get us through when we come back.” Leon scans the situation before Charizard huffs again for him to follow. He could tell Leon was prone to getting sucked into crowds of adoring fans if left to his own devices for too long.

The Budew Drop Inn wasn’t too far away, a straight shot from the stadium. You notice trainers leaving it heading towards where you just came from.

“The League put us all up here, so if they are running late, we might run into Hop and Gloria! Unlikely though, Hop was probably bouncing all night.” He chuckles to himself as you both enter.

Indeed, moving through the lobby you don’t spot any familiar faces though, of course, the young trainers are reacting to Leon. You also feel like they are reacting to you, not knowing who you are or why you’re with Leon. Their eyes begin to feel like weights pressed on your body, and you couldn’t be happier when the elevator doors closed and it was just you, Leon, and Charizard. There’s something comforting about the low hum of the machinery lifting you upwards.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

You turn to Leon, surprised. It seems like you’ve had enough time to process your encounter with danger in the Dappled Grove, but it must still fresh for him. He’s leaning back with arms crossed over his chest, looking over to you… wistfully?

“Sorry Leon. I just… wasn’t thinking right.”

Charizard seems to busy himself looking at the elevator controls as the two of you talked in hushed tones.

“I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you.” You lock eyes with his golden gaze. “Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

His expression softens, maybe even looks a bit sad.

“Of course I do. I was acting all weird around you, because… because…” Charizard casts Leon a look, and he gulps, looking incredibly flustered.

There’s a chime, and the elevator doors open. Trainers file in, recognizing the famous duo. Trying to talk with Leon prompts him to grab your sleeve and lead you onto the floor instead of finishing what he was going to say. You hear Charizard exhale a disapproving grunt.

Soon you were in the room you saw through the phone, seeing a scattering of Sonia’s and Leon’s things all over. Both probably are a bit of a mess. Leon flops back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Okay, I’ll take a quick shower and change into something fresh.” You set your bag down in a corner, grabbed what you needed from it, and slipped into the bathroom. Everything felt both strange and familiar, not having things like running water and electricity for the past few days almost made you feel like you regressed in some way. But the moment you stepped into the heated spray, you felt all the discomfort in your body melt away. The film of sweat and dirt on your skin finally washed off with a good scrub, and the steam smelled of your body wash, honey with a range of floral notes.

Reaching out of the shower to grab something for you hair, you catch conversation through the thin wall. It sounds like Leon is talking his Charizard.

“Don’t give me that look.”

You hear Charizard give an exasperated sigh.

“I’m just waiting for the right moment!”

What is Leon talking about? You can hear him groan.

“Arceus- Raihan’s right, I have zero game.”

You begin to feel a bit guilty eavesdropping, so you return to your shower. You guess he might be talking about Sonia, and imagine there’s a lot to catch up with once you all get some time to yourselves.

Eventually you get through the motions of your shower and exit it, feeling better. You’ll never take a functioning bathroom for granted ever again. Quickly slipping into clean clothes and leaving the bathroom, you look into the mirror and attempt to, in vain, tidy up your hair. You hear Leon rising from the nearby bed and leaning on the threshold to the vanity area. He sounds like he’s going to say something, but hesitates. You can see him in the reflection of the mirror, and he’s tapping the sides of his face with his hands for some reason.

“Is something wrong Leon?” You’re applying a quick amount of lotion before hurrying to slip on shoes that aren’t caked in mud and grass.

“O-oh nothing! Just wanted to be ready to leave soon.” He coughs a bit, strangely at the same time Charizard makes some noises.

“Okay okay, I’m almost done.” Reaching for your phone in your bag, you remember your promise to Milo and grab the letter to slip it into your back pocket. “Alright, I’m all set to go!”

“Let’s go!” Leon is quick to throw open the door and lead everyone out of the room.

Soon you all exit the hotel and Charizard leads you down the path to the stadium. Crowds clogged the streets and blocked the path forward. You easily got jostled by hyped up sports fans, especially ones that noticed Leon and his Charizard. And considering how much they stuck out like a sore thumb, a long shock of purple hair over a cape with a flame orange companion, that was everyone within a mile. Fans tried to get in some Champion Time and mostly saw you as an obstacle in the way of getting a moment with Leon. It’s not long that you lose sight of the two as you’re pushed back and away from them.

You call out Leon’s name, but all you can do is hear him try to calm down excitable fans. It must be tough having to put up an image constantly, and needing to cater to fans whenever he steps outside. He seems to enjoy though, at least, that’s what you see from the outside. Leon seems at his best when he’s among his fans, talking to them about Pokemon battles and striking poses. All the times you see him in private he seems off, maybe because you don’t treat him like a champion. You’re not really that interested in becoming The Best or getting his autograph. No desire to fight him and become champion yourself. Maybe it was selfish of you to basically ignore that Leon was The Champion of Galar, not putting much importance into it, because that makes up for so much of who he is.

A hand appears from the crowd and grabs yours. You try to stammer out a sound of surprise, but you’re pulled in as some of the fan part to make room. Soon enough you see the arm belongs to Leon, and you can’t help but notice how well-muscled it is. You fingers instinctively tighten and his rougher palm brushes up against your softer skin. Warmth creeps into your face as you lock eyes with Leon, who looks both determined and concerned.

“Hold on tight, we’re just going to push through!” He doesn’t seem to notice your reaction at all, and turns to move through the crowd.

Leon politely tells people to move aside, or that he’ll sign their grandma’s Alcremie’s Pokeball some other time, trying to stay a cheerful champion but getting more forward when fans don’t listen. You’re definitely noticing the amount of eyes on you, and wonder if the flashing you’re seeing is your anxiety or Rotom Phones. You feel Leon’s grip tighten as he begins to shoulder through people to get to the front doors of the stadium.

What look like event coordinators are trying to corral people into orderly lines and only let some in at a time. They stiffen a bit when they see Leon suddenly among the people they are trying to hold back.

“Ch-champion Leon!! What are you doing out here? Oleana has been looking for you!”

He puts back on that Champion Smile. “Sorry, I got a little lost on the way! You know me.”

The staff let out an exasperated sigh, then look over to you, eyes trailing from your face, to your hand being held by Leon’s, and back to your face.

“And who’s this?”

Leon suddenly becomes very aware of holding your and drops it.

“A f-friend! Sitting with me.”

He quickly waves and moves past them, signaling you to follow. When you enter past the doors you both arrive in what looks to be the lobby of the stadium. Is there you notice the front desk, and remember what Milo told you.

“Leon, one second, I need to deliver something to the front desk.” You beckon them to follow over as he and Charizard were about to go off in a different direction. Mercifully, there’s no one else needing to take up the attendant’s time, so you hope this goes quickly. “Excuse me, is this front desk?”

The man behind the counter looks up from the computer he’s typing on and nods. “May I help you?”

“Yes, I was asked to deliver this letter to you.” You take out Milo’s letter and give it to him. Leon sees it and his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. You must have forgotten to mention it to him in the rush of everything. “Hopefully everything’s all there.”

Business done, you turn to Leon. “Alright, that’s all! Ready to go? I’m so excited to see Hop and Gloria out there!”

You’re about to step away when you hear your name being called. Confused, you turn back to the man at the front desk, who is reading the letter that was in the envelope. “I’m sorry, how did you know my name?”

“It’s right here.” He shows you the letter, but you don’t understand why it would be there. “It’s an Endorsement Letter for the Gym Challenge. And not just any endorsement.” He points down to the messy signature at the bottom of all the writing. “This is from Milo, Turffield’s very own Gym Leader.”

It takes a couple seconds for you to notice your mouth is hanging open.

“Milo is a WHAT!?”

~*~*~*~

There he is on the big screen. Kind but goofy grin, messy peach hair, noticeably jacked silhouette. That’s Milo alright, and he’s waving to the entire stadium in an outfit you haven’t seen him in before, along with the other Galarian gym leaders wearing similar ones. And not only that… right next to him is a face you recognize. The model Nessa. Milo’s girlfriend Nessa.

You’re standing in a locker room with other Gym Challengers watching the screens of what’s going on out on the stadium pitch. The man at the front desk hurried you away from a confounded Leon, grabbing a uniform that looked your size, and escorted you to the room where new challengers would be waiting. And here you are now, wearing the numbers 168, standing between Hop and Gloria. The look on their faces when you appeared was priceless, but now they were mostly excited for you be there.

It is a mystery as to why Milo endorsed you to do the Gym Challenge, especially when you said you weren’t really interested. Pokemon battles don’t excite you, and you aren’t looking to beat Leon and become the next Champion. And he never mentioned that he was a gym leader the entire time you were with him! You suppose that you never asked, but isn’t it pertinent information for when you’re handing near-strangers letters of endorsements for the biggest sporting event in the nation!?

Everything was still processing through your mind when the event coordinators began to herd all the new challenges out of the locker rooms and into the tunnel that led towards the field. The noise from the crowd was overwhelming, thumping in your chest where your heart should be. A wave of anxiety churns through your torso as it hits you what is happening. This entire time you were confused about how you arrived at this point, but now you’re being asked to take your own steps forward. Hop is dragging Gloria forward who in turn pulls you closer to the pitch, only letting go once you arrive and see the crowds cheering.

How did you get here? You didn’t even want to be here. And now everyone sees you, both with their eyes and cameras, and it’s like there’s no turning back. You can’t run.

They eventually line you all up to go and shake hands with the gym leaders. Milo is first, and your heart beats faster as you approach him. Eventually, you’re in his periphery, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say he was beginning to stutter and turn a shade redder. Maybe that was just the effect of the stadium lighting.

Eventually, it’s your turn. You step in front of him and see that his emerald eyes are downcast and his face his completely red. He grasps your hand, but doesn’t really shake it. It’s almost as if he’s looking for an apology.

“Q-quite the surprise, huh…?” He’s able to get out at least that much, though you barely heard him over the din of the stadium.

“Milo, what is going on??”

You can’t continue the conversation because of the flow of the line, you’re quickly nudged over to face the next leader:

Nessa.

Shaking your hand, she looks you dead-set in the eye. You can’t help but notice how elegant she is, even in the sportswear. She leans in closer to you.

“Interesting.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from her. You notice Milo looking over to the both of you from the corner of his eyes.

“Make sure to beat Milo, I want to know what he sees in you.”

And with that, the line forces you to move on to the attractive older man next to her. You continue down the line, shaking hands with all the gym leaders, and only when you near the end do you see that Leon has also joined the gym leaders in the event. When you arrive in front of him, he gives you a look. You don’t know what it means, but instead of shaking your hand, he gives you a quick hug. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he whispers into your ear:

“Wait for me in the lobby.”

And with that, he sends you off with the rest of the line, back to his Champion smile and handshakes.

~*~*~*~

After being forced through some photoshoots with the League’s PR people, you change out of your uniform and head back out to the lobby with Gloria and Hop. The three of you chat before you’re approached by Leon, and by his side is a fashionable-looking man in a business suit.

“Congratulations again! You all looked great in your jerseys.” Leon high-fives the kids, and direct a small smile your way. “I wanted to introduce you all to Chairman Rose, he’s the head of the League!”

The chairman waves his hand in modesty. “It’s good to meet you all! I was curious to see who was able to get the Champion’s endorsement.” He then looks over to you. “And Gym Leader Milo’s! Very unusual and rare indeed.”

There is something about the chairman that makes you nervous. All that you know of him is from TV and passing talk, and it makes him seem almost god-like. At the vary least, the patron of all of Galar. He sees the Dynamax bands on the kids’ wrists and brings a hand to his chin.

“If you all have those, you must have been guided here by the light of he Wishing Stars… Auspicious indeed.” Rose turns to Leon. “I must be off, and I’m sure you have to get to things as well.” And with a friendly nod, he departs.

Leon crosses his hands over his chest with a smile. “That’s the Chairman for you, he’s always pushing himself for Galar’s sake! I learn so much from him.”

“And I’m going to push myself too! Just you watch, Leon!” Hop thrusts a finger at his brother. “I will be the next Champion of Galar! C’mon Gloria, we need to hurry to Turffield and get our first badge!”

Hop bolts off to the exit, and Gloria is shaking her head. “It turns out not matter how fast he runs off, no matter how long I take, he’s waiting for me.” Gloria is either just observant or already a fine manipulator of men. She comes over to hug you, squeezing tight. “I’m so happy my cousin is coming on this journey too! It makes it less lonely.”

“You always have my number, feel free to call if you’re ever in trouble, okay? ” Your eyes look up to Leon. “I have Pokemon now, that means I can help people.”

Leon returns an expression of curiosity, uncrossing his arms and smoothing his beard in thought.

Gloria pulls away from you. “Okay, I better follow Hop before he gets into trouble. I hope to see you in Turffield!” With a shy wave to Leon, she’s off through the doors.

The lobby is actually pretty quiet since most of the crowd of fans were moved out of the building as the challengers changed and were given instruction on what they needed to do. You were given a tour of the map of Galar, seeing the order of the gym you had to challenge before competing in the Champion Cup at Wyndon. You learned that the first gym you were to visit is Turffield Stadium’s. Milo said he was from Turffield so you imagined he would be there. You were hoping to see him out here in this lobby, but he must have slipped out some other way.

“Leon, I’m sorry, I had no idea what was in that letter!” This is the first time you’ve been able to speak with him one-on-one since you were suddenly pulled into the opening ceremony. “I told Milo I wasn’t interested in the gym challenge, so I have no idea why he did that. I almost want to drop out, it just feels wrong for me to take up a spot…”

“No.” Leon steps closer to you, closing the distance between you enough for you to tilt your head slightly upwards to meet him in the eyes. “I’ll admit that I was hurt at first… I thought you didn’t want my endorsement. That Milo was special to you.”

Your face begins to feel a bit hot, you’re not sure such strong emotions like this exists over sports.

“And to think he was the person you happened to encounter in the Wild Area this whole time, and you had no idea he was a gym leader.” The gears are turning behind his gaze. “He must have seen something special in you. As Chairman Rose said, you’re being guided by your Wishing Star… I was there, I know what your wish was.” He hits a closed fist in an open palm, like he just decided on something. “No, you’re supposed to do this, don’t drop out. I think I can do it by the time you get to Wyndon, if you’re able to push through.”

That last part makes your brows knit and head tilt to the side. “Do what??”

Leon looks like he said something he shouldn’t have, backing up from you. “Nothing, absolutely nothin-”

“There you are!”

A hug glomps onto you from behind, and the impeccable turquoise nails on the hands clasped around your shoulders signal that it’s Sonia.

“What a total shocker this is! You should have seen Leon panicking earlier when he told me the news.” Sonia giggles in your ear, her breath tickling at your neck.

The Champion of Galar fidgets in front of you. “ANYWAY,” It seems like Leon doesn’t wish for Sonia to elaborate further. “I have to get to some work for the Chairman. I’ll text you two later, the gym leaders always have a get-together before heading off to their gyms.”

He waves and dashes off to the entrance, seeming to steel himself before going out to the public.

Sonia lets go of you and turns you around to face her. “It’s been a sec since I’ve last been to Motostoke, or hung out with any of the gym leaders in fact.” As if being reminded of something, she lets go of your shoulders and begins to text on her phone. “Actually my best friend is a gym leader, I’m sure she’ll be down for a cuppa before we head to dinner.”

She begins to walk absentmindedly towards the door as she texted with her friend, and you followed, feeling more lost than you did before. At least you could see all of Postwick, and everything seemed predictable and quiet. Now are you not only out traveling a country you barely know, but are participating in its most important sporting event without a clue of what you were doing. Everyone else moved around so naturally, and to you, everything’s foreign.

“Alright?”

You didn’t notice that Sonia finished what she was doing on her phone and looked over to see how overwhelmed you were feeling. Giving her a weak smile didn’t do anything to convince her that you were okay.

“I got it!” Her eyes sparkle a bit as she grabs your hand. “You know what you could use? A bit of shopping!”

~*~*~*~

You have to admit, shopping and gossiping with Sonia does make you feel better. She mostly talks to you about their time in the Wild Area after you separated, wisely gliding around moments that would remind you of the worry you put them through and highlighting the amount of times Leon would get lost. Things begin to feel normal again. Sonia is mainly looking through the glasses collection, asking which pair makes her look the most professorial, if that’s a word. You’re feeling like you should look more the part of a gym challenger, you buy some track bottoms and a matching cap, along with a pair of purple sunglass Sonia slips on your face to match your yellow jacket. You had quite the fashionable and colorful getup for a gym challenger, you think, looking at your clothes in a mirror. The less this is about getting lost and grimy in the Wild Area, the better.

Just as you both exit the store, Sonia’s Rotom Phone pops out of her bag and shows her a new text she received. “Brilliant!” She makes a couple taps before Rotom buzzes happily and flies back where it came from. “She’s meeting us at a cafe down the way! Just follow me~”

You stroll down the boulevard with her, looking around and taking in the scenery. The both of you pass buy vintage record shops and bookstores, all in their own ways inviting. Everything has been a rush since you arrived, but you hope to find an excuse to just look around Motostoke by yourself.

Eventually the two of you enter a trendy looking cafe, somewhere you could totally imagine Sonia meeting with friends of her. You scan the tables looking for a spot to sit when you see her:

“Nessa! Darling~”

Sonia moves to hug the gym leader, who was out of her league clothing and in fashionable clothing not too unlike the ones you’ve seen her model. Nerves all of a sudden wrack your body as they separate, and Sonia turns to introduce you.

“We’ve shaken hands before, but are you good with hugs?”

You’re shocked but begin to relax a bit when you give a friendly greeting hug to her. It makes you think, why are you nervous around her anyway?

Nessa gestures to the table she’s sitting at, which already has mugs of tea for each of you. “I got us all some Calm Mint tea, I hope that’s alright. I know I could use some calm after today.” She tests the temperature of the tea with a small sip before looking over to you. “You’re quite the interesting one, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have guessed you were acquainted with Sonia and Leon.”

You bring the tea closer to your noise so you can smell it. It indeed smells like what you imagine calm to smell like, soft floral and herbal notes stand out of the usual minty taste. “It’s all by chance really. I just happened to be in the right spot at the right time.” You think back to the dinner conversation you had with Leon back in Postwick, your first chance encounter with Milo, and shopping with Sonia.

Her eyebrows raise a little in response. “I guess I didn’t notice it during the ceremony, but that accent is Alolan, is it not?” After you nod, she sits back in her chair. “That makes more sense, you seem to both stick out and not really know what is going on.”

Unsure of whether she meant that as a critique or passing observation, you look down a little embarrassed. “I admit, I do feel a bit in the deep end at the moment. All of this is rather sudden.”

“Milo told me about what happened in the Wild Area. I guess you don’t really have places like that where you’re from.”

You get flustered under her gaze as she sips some tea, like she’s evaluating you. Sonia seems to pick up on this and changes the subject. “So Nessa, how are you and Milo doing? I know you both haven’t seen each other for some time, preparing your gyms for the challenge and all.”

“Oh yes, I meant to mention.” She sets down her cup on the table. “We broke up.”

What? Sonia is similarly shocked so you know this must be news to her.

“Really? When?? You were just talking about how you wanted to see him last night!”

“Just after the opening ceremony and before I came over here.”

She doesn’t seem said or upset at all, which confuses you.

“Nessa this makes it, what, the third time you two have broken up this year?” Sonia rolls her eyes and looks a bit unamused, but it seems more out of concern for her friend than any actual judgment.

“I think it’s for good this time. No really!” She responds to Sonia’s clear expression of disbelief. “We’re just really good friends and there’s nothing wrong with that. Just because we’re close doesn’t mean we need to be in a relationship. I mean, it doesn’t even feel like we are in one, things are just, well, normal.”

Sonia rests her chin into her palm and nods, as if she’s heard this before. “But you’re the one who keeps starting and breaking things off. Are you sure you’re not going to change your mind about it?”

“It’s for good this time, I swear!” She looks a bit indignant, which actually amuses you. It’s nice to know there’s a human behind what you see as a perfect mask. Nessa crosses her arms, looking more serious. “I told him that we’re rivals. No one sees us as a real challenge, and we’re not going to be taken seriously if we don’t get stronger. A Grass-type specialist is the perfect rival to help me rise to the top, and he could use any excuse to get more serious as a gym leader.”

“You’re serious? What did he say to that?”

Nessa frowns and picks her tea back up. “Oh you know, he just sort of laughed it off like he usually does. He said his only rival is himself or some nonsense like that. I think Milo feels nothing is really going to change between us, but it really is going to be different!”

You’re quiet for the most part, sipping on your tea as the two go back and forth. You can tell they’ve been friends for a bit. It felt good to be included, it’s nice to be around familiarity. Though it isn’t long until Nessa looks to you with a bit of a mischievous look.

“And what’s going on with you and Leon?”

The question hits you like a Wooloo Tackle from the side, making you sputter in your tea a bit. “I’m sorry?? What do you mean by that?”

Ness takes out her Rotom Phone, gives it a few taps, and shows you the screen. Opened up is the popular social media app Pokegram, and your eyes see pictures of you and Leon. “This is blowing up all over the place. Did you really not know?” In a post captioned Is Champion Leon Dating a Gym Challenger!?, there’s a few purposefully chosen pictures to make it seem you and Leon were intimate. The first was him hugging you at the entrance of Motostoke, then there ones of you entering the elevator at Budew Drop Inn together, him holding your hand going through the crowd outside of the stadium, and of course, his hug during the opening ceremony. Your eyes widen when you see the amount of likes, reposts, and comments.

“Oh my god.” Sonia gasps, looking at it from her phone. “We’ve been shopping all day, and no one knows your social names because you’re new here. So we’ve been oblivious this entire time!”

You’re stunned, sitting back in your chair. “How did they get all those pictures?”

“Sports fans are nuts here in Galar.” Nessa takes back her phone and scrolls through it some. “It’s not uncommon for us to have a stalking incident once in a while, all the gym leaders and Leon have to be extra careful of what we do out in the open. Especially Leon, who obviously has the most fans. I wouldn’t be surprised if Oleana is giving him an earful right now. The League is very controlling of our public image.” She looks over to you. “But it surprises me seeing all this, and it’s Milo of all people endorsing you for the gym challenge. Why didn’t Leon?”

It takes you a couple of seconds for the reeling in your brain to slow down enough to respond to her. “He did offer, but I said no. I wasn’t, and technically sorta still am not, interested in doing the gym challenge. I told that to Milo as well. So it was shocking to find out that he endorsed me. He just asked me to deliver a letter to the person at the front desk, he never told me that what was inside! I didn’t even know he was a gym leader!”

To your surprise, a small smile forms on Nessa’s lips. “I see, now I understand.”

You blink a few times under her gaze. “Understand…?”

Before she could reply, all three of your phones buzz. Your Rotom Phone zips out of your bag and opens up a text for you to look like. It’s a group text of mostly Galarian numbers you don’t recognize, from Leon and including Sonia. Seeing that Nessa got the text as well, you assumed it was to all the gym leaders.

It’s that time again everyone! Head on over to Huo Guo Hot Pot for our yearly celebration! Let’s start this year off with a Champion good time!

Don’t forget to thank our sponsors, Huo Guo Hot Pot, and take plenty photos for Pokegram!

(Oleana forced me to write that)

That’s right, Leon mentioned before there was a gathering happening. Given what you’ve just found out, you’re surprised he’s inviting you. Wouldn’t that just create more controversy?

~*~*~*~

Nessa leads the both of you to the restaurant, being the most familiar with Motostoke. You all chat pretty fluidly, any reservations you had being around Nessa washing away. It’s an important lesson about appearances, and giving everyone a chance.

You all eventually arrive to a restaurant with wooden finishing and lanterns, giving it a rustic and traditional style more akin to the Johto and Hoenn regions than anything in Galar.

“Despite being sponsors, everything here is really good. Kabu recommends this place whenever there’s a bunch of us in Motosoke.” Nessa mentions as she waves to the League official, who casts a suspicious look your way. “Both are with me.” They nod and hold the door open long enough for the three of you to enter.

Inside is actually quite spacious with many tables, but the only people inside seem to be associated with the League in some way. In the back corner of the restaurant you see some people waving, beckoning Nessa and Sonia over. You follow with a stone of anxiety in your stomach. In no way where you expecting this especially with everything that’s going on.

“Hello, hello! Make room for us why don’t you?” Sonia greeted, smiling and giving some shoulder pats and hugs. It seems like she’s already acquainted with most of the leaders, probably because she’s close with Leon and Nessa. As the text mentioned, it was a hot pot restaurant, and the current setup had four people sharing the same simmering pot.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to a new friend!” You’re certain you blushed when Nessa announced that, both because you were hoping to maintain a low profile and also you didn’t realize she felt so friendly towards you already. Most people were polite, giving smiles, nods, and basic greetings.

“Oi! Yeah you, come sit with us!” You notice a rather tall man grinning and waving at you, and if you remember correctly, he was the furthest down the line of gym leaders when you were shaking hands, just before Leon. In fact, at his table were two, quite interesting people: Leon and Milo. “Just want to get to know you a bit.” He winks as you eventually nod and separate from Sonia and Nessa.

You sit down at the table with a bubbling pot that smelled of mushrooms and spices, next to the stranger and across from Milo, with Leon on the opposite corner of you. Both of the men you know looked incredibly flustered, with Milo looking down at his plate and Leon staring somewhere off in the middle distance. Things definitely feel… awkward.

“’Name’s Raihan, I’m the sorry bloke that has to clean up all of this guy’s,” He jerks his thumb towards Leon. “messes. I also have the best ‘gram feed in all the League.” He winks at you again, leaning back on his chair and draping his long arms on the back.

After introducing yourself, Raihan insists on following each other on Pokegram. You look up to Leon and Milo, who are still shifting uncomfortably on the other side of the table, busying themselves looking at the menu. “What’s wrong with them?”

“That’s what I wanna know, luv.” He peers at them over his phone, still scrolling. “They’ve been acting right daft all day, one thing after another. Figured you would be able to help me out here.” He looks back to what he’s looking at on his phone, eventually stopping on something. “You’re from Alola, right? Accent fits, you have that look to ya.” After you nod, he shows something from Pokegram to Leon and Milo. “Is this what’s got your fancy, mates?”

Both of them turn red. When you look, it’s just a normal picture of you at the beach back on Melemele Island. Sure you have a swimsuit on, but so does everyone at the beach?

“Raihan, stop.” Leon swats the hand holding up the phone, causing the Rotom to zoom away and float by Raihan’s head with a buzz.

“Oh now you want to speak up. Tell me why you got hands all over this bird out of nowhere.” He looks to you. “You’ve seen the pictures, right? I mean, you were there, given, well, you’re the bird.”

You blink a few times being asked so forwardly. “It’s all still a shock to me too. Leon was just being friendly, we were separated in the Wild Area and by the time I arrived here, I was running late to see my cousin in the opening ceremony. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

Raihan smirks a bit, revealing his one sharp tooth that reminded you of a beast. “I see, I see. And Milo’s endorsement of you?”

Looking over to Milo, it seems like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Not only did he endorse a complete random, no offense, but breaks up with Nessa on the same day. When they didn’t walk out the stadium together, fans went rabid with speculation.”

“She broke up with me. N-not that it’s a big deal!” Milo finally chances looking up at everyone. “We’re still good friends, there’s nothin’ awkward or anythin’.”

“Right, right farm boy, we get it. But why did you endorse this bird over here? Have you met before today? You know the League, and the fans, dig into the lives of challengers endorsed by League representatives.”

“I’d like to know too, Milo. I was so shocked.” Your voice is soft, almost like how you would talk to your Pokemon. “I’m not sure what you see in me to use your own name to endorse me.”

Milo shifts his weight in his seat, breathes in some air, and looks up at you through his bangs. “I’m sorry, I shoulda told you. But the way ya handled Pokemon out ‘n the Wild Area is remarkable! Watched three different Pokemon accept your ownership without battlin’. That’s rare and unusual! And…” He fidgets some more instead of finishing.

Both Leon and Raihan raise an eyebrow at you. “Three Pokemon? Which ones?” Leon asks, not having seen it for himself.

“Umm, let’s see, I think he means Wooloo, Lotad, who’s now a Lombre, and Pancham.”

Leon is shocked, and looks to Milo. “So you were with guy with the Wooloo? And who defeated the Seismitoad??”

Milo bashfully nodded, stealing a look at you before looking quickly back down at the menu as a waiter stopped by the table. It seems like someone put in an order for you all already, and various vegetables, meats, and dipping sauces were placed around the pot. “Sake for the table?” When you all nod, small tumblers are placed in front of you and filled up. “Please let me know if you all would like anything else.” They take the menus, bow, and leave.

Raihan is the first to speak, lifting his cup. “To a new gym challenge, yeah? Here’s hoping none get through me and I beat the pants off Leon.”

“Hey, wait-” Leon’s brows furrow, hand halfway to tapping Raihan’s. “I don’t want to cheers to that!”

“And what bollocks do you wish for? Is it…” Raihan looks over to you.

Before he can say anything else, Milo thrusts his cup in. “Cheers to that!”

You play along, not knowing what is going on with these three, but smiling as Leon and Milo begin to open up and talk about this year’s challenge. It’s obvious things aren’t resolved, and there’s more going on behind the scenes, but you put that aside as you remember how much you just enjoy their company. Raihan is an entertaining contrast to their personalities. Where they are earnest and fumbling, he’s smooth and brash at the same time. He easily convinces you into selfies, and you can see that the other two are staring.

The food is indeed delicious, and sharing dinner with the boys is fun. Sometimes funny moments will come up, like both Milo and you attempting to grab the same lotus root, and spending an entire 5 minutes offering it to the other. Or Raihan overzealously dipping his pork into soy sauce and splashing who you learned to be Gordie sitting at the table next to yours. You realize, when you just let go, things work themselves out, and all the tension melts. Yes, things aren’t resolved. But as you look out to this group of people, you sense a feeling of belonging, and you know they will be, in time.

~*~*~*~

After dinner, the group splits in different ways. Some call flying taxis, others head back to Budew Drop Inn, and some even walk off into the city without really saying where they’ve headed. You head back to the hotel, the group boisterous with a healthy amount of sake in them. The rest of the city is quiet but has a low hum with all of the steam-powered machinery at work. The train has stopped by now, but steam lazily hisses from various vents on the streets. Looking up, you can only see a few stars. You realize you haven’t seen a clear sky since you’ve left Postwick. Only fitting given how cloudy your path seems.

Early in the walk, you feel a tug on your sleeve, and you turn to see Milo trailing behind the rest of the group. You hang back until you’re matching his pace.

“Hey.”

“Evenin’.” He’s not looking directly at you, but you can tell he’s a little more at ease. “How are you feelin’?”

Walking with him reminds you a little of the time you spent together in the Wild Area. “Hmm, lost, but holding faith that I will find my way.”

The both of you walk a couple of paces without saying anything.

“I owe ya a better explanation for everythin’. Just been a bit out of my element today.” He exhales, looks at you, and then back forward. “While it’s true I’m impressed by your ability to attract Pokemon, there was another reason I gave you my endorsement.”

You can tell he’s trying to work up to something. Instinctively, you reach out to his shoulder. “May I?” When he nods, you place your hand on it. Like the rest of his body it’s well-built, your fingers lightly rub the muscle you find there.

“I also did it because…” You can hear him gulp a little. “I wanted us to have an excuse to see each other again. ‘n for you to come to Turffield.” He looks to you, searching your face for a reaction. “I’ve enjoyed the time we spent together so far.”

That’s when you begin to realize something about Milo.

He’s cute.

Like, really cute.

“So did I Milo. I’m happy to hear you feel the same.” Whenever the two of you pass by a street light, you try and take in all the feature you can see. The soft qualities of his face, the hard qualities of his body. Everything you’ve felt about Milo rolled into this experience you’re having now.

“Really?” He’s being bashful, which makes you want to tease him a little.

“Of course. And you didn’t have to go through all this to see me again. You could, you know, ask for my number.”

“R-right!” A few moments pass in contemplation. “May I have your number? Jus’ for keepin’ in touch ‘n all!”

Smiling, you offer Milo your phone, and he puts in his information. When he hands it back you send him a quick text.

so glad i met you, all the way back at route 1 <3

By now you’ve reached the Budew Drop Inn, and all that remains is Sonia, Leon, Raihan, Milo, and yourself. Others, Leon in particular, grab your attention away from Milo, tipsy and full of low giggles. Riding the elevator is when you find out Milo is staying with Raihan. When they move to get off, giving their parting goodbyes, the sake in your system emboldens you to hug Milo. You can feel he’s surprised, but eventually he returns the gesture. It’s possible he said something to you, but it was too soft for you to hear. All of you wave goodbye as Raihan drags him away from you and the elevator.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you turn around to your friends remaining. Sonia is fighting persistent yawning while Pokegram is showing on her phone. Shifting to look at Leon, you see that he’s been observing you for some time now. His expression is a mix between sleepy and conflicted, like he’s trying to figure something out by just understanding your features. Something in your alcohol-influenced brain decides that Leon also wants a hug, so you step over and wrap your arms around his middle.

His body stiffens for a moment, before relaxing and hugging you tightly. You only now realize how comfortable Leon feels, since he’s usually so uptight around you. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the day, but you begin to drift asleep, closing your eyes and listening to the stead rhythm of his heart.

#milo x reader #leon x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon sword and shield imagines #pokemon milo imagines #pokemon milo #pokemon swsh imagines #fanfiction #a bundle of yarrow #fic

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3laxx · 3 years

Text

Bring It Home - Chapter 8

Why didn’t they build the portal while Luz had still been alive? Why couldn’t they just turn back time and shove Luz back into the human realm where she would be safe and sound?

Desperately trying not to break under the pressure, Amity pressed her wrists into her eyes, breathing faster and faster. She thought she’d be happy with this.

ANOTHER CHAPTER!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Uh yeah just have this Imma go back to work

Ao3 / FF.net

---

To say Amity was stressed was an understatement.

She was pacing.

Pulling on her hair, kneading her shirt, the whole deal. She was so stressed she didn’t even think she could walk straight.

During the assembly of the new portal, that she and Eda had finally gotten around to after all this time, it had come down crashing on her. Her parents, her jobs, her bucket list, Luz, all over Luz, the bills that had to be paid. She had felt safe the past few months, happy even.

She had not suffered any dents in her relationship with Willow after the kiss, she had a good home with her friends, they had a whole house to themselves, she and Willow shared a bathroom and Gus had one for himself, her parents had been pleased with her work for the Coven, Eda had led her life, King had grown up to be a moody teenager, she hadn’t cried over Luz in a long time, things had been going well.

And then suddenly, the portal had worked.

The one thing Luz had wanted but could never get. The one thing she had searched for all summer long almost seven years ago, the one thing she couldn’t have, despite living her dream as a witch.

She had broken down. These trees had looked exactly like Luz had described them, and when Amity had leaned into the portal, she had felt so connected to Luz she had almost fainted.

And now she didn’t know how to deal with this sudden influx of feelings. She didn’t know how to deal with reaching one of Luz’s main goals so many years later, and she didn’t know how to justify to herself that they hadn’t done this earlier.

Why didn’t they build the portal while Luz had still been alive? Why couldn’t they just turn back time and shove Luz back into the human realm where she would be safe and sound?

Desperately trying not to break under the pressure, Amity pressed her wrists into her eyes, breathing faster and faster. She thought she’d be happy with this.

She thought after six years, the pain would have lessened, that she could somehow be happy for achieving something that Luz wanted, but it made this only feel unfair. That Luz couldn’t have this, while she had just been in the human realm.

“Hey, are you okay?”, Willow's voice echoed in her head way too loudly and Amity whimpered, before looking up to her friend peeking into her room.

“I-… I don’t know, I-…”, sniffling, she tried to draw a breath but her clothes were constricting and her head overwhelmed her with the weight of her thoughts, “W-We finished the portal. It works.”

Immediately, Willow stepped in and offered a hug, which Amity graciously accepted. She felt safe whenever her friend squeezed her tightly as if she could just tell the thoughts to go away.

“What I’d give for Luz to see this…”, she hiccupped, making Willow run a soothing hand up and down her spine.

“I know, Amity… I know… But this is great. We-… We can go back to the human realm. We could maybe even find – and give – some closure.”, Amity knew that Willow was talking about Luz’s mother. Camila was her name, as she had noted.

“That’s what I’m scared of…”, she mumbled, “But it mostly feels unfair we can go back to the human realm and Luz can’t…”

Swallowing thickly, Amity leaned into the gentle hug of her friend, before shaking her head.

“No matter, I-… I should be happy, right? We have a portal again. That means Luz’s goal is achieved.”, she tried to go about this the logical way, but Willow stopped her right there.

“It’s not just about Luz’s goal. It’s about you feeling better about her death.”, she clarified, leveling her friend with a stare and Amity sniffled, “Maybe you’ll find some sort of closure on the other side.”

She nodded weakly, before resting back against her friend, her stress somewhat relieved, but Willow could still feel her shivering. Her gaze flickered to Amity’s desk, where the bucket list was pinned to the wall, the next task catching Willow’s eye.

“Let’s go scream?”

With a quizzical expression, Amity leaned back and furrowed her eyebrows at her friend.

“Wh-What?”

Humming, Willow grabbed her hand and already led her out, going down the stairs.

“Come on, we’ll go scream to release stress now.”

She put on some shoes and gestured for Amity to do the same. Furrowing her eyebrows, she did so, and only then she understood where Willow was going with this.

“The bucket list.”, she mumbled and ran back upstairs while retrieving the piece of paper, carefully folding it up while she stumbled back down, looking up to meet Willow’s eyes.

“Alright, let’s do it.”, she confirmed and her friend took her hand, nodding when they left the house with a quick call to Gus that they’d be back shortly.

They weaved through the streets of Bonesborough until they finally reached the forest and walked in, deeper and deeper until they had found a spot where absolutely nobody would hear them. Amity circled around herself, taking in the small clearing in the forest, and smiled to herself.

“So, how does this work?”, she asked and turned back to Willow, who was just shrugging at her.

“Just, scream.”, she simply said. Amity still didn’t know what to do. Like she was expecting further instructions, she looked back to Willow who chuckled at her.

“Okay, I’ll show you.”

Amity watched her take a big breath of air, before the usually so soft girl she knew let out a blood-curdling scream, making her flinch and stumble back. Willow held her outburst for as long as she could, before breathing through and smiling a little. Then, she opened her eyes again and gestured for Amity to do the same.

“Now it’s your turn!”, she said and Amity huffed, her eyes still blown wide from Willow’s scream.

Grumbling, she patted down her clothes.

“I-… I don’t really know, does it really work?”, she doubted, but Willow just crossed her arms.

“Scream.”

Amity shrugged helplessly, before she gave her an exasperated look, nodding at her.

“I have no idea what to do, I-”

“Scream.”, Willow persisted, making Amity furrow her eyebrows. She hadn’t been raised to be loud, and she didn’t really see how this would make her feel better. This had just been a suggestion a fourteen-year-old’s dumb distracted head had made up.

“Can someone even hear us out here, I-”

“Scream.”

“But isn’t it, like, dangerous to-”

“Scream.”

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable with-”

“Amity.”

Turning her gaze back to Willow, her friend had softened up now. She saw the regret in Willow’s face when she realized she had cornered her.

“I-… I don’t know how to-… Scream.”, she lamely finished and her friend approached her, putting her hands on her arms.

“Stop thinking.”, she simply said, “Just yell at me. Okay? Just do it.”

Trying to growl, Amity squinted her eyes and tried raising her voice.

“I don’t know how!!”, she yelled in an acceptable volume, but Willow wasn’t satisfied.

“Louder!”, she demanded and stepped back so Amity could have some room. The young witch nodded in concentration and breathed through. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had raised her voice.

“I-… I don’t know how!!”, she tried again, but this time it actually came out quieter than before. Willow made a motion as if to say You can do better!, and nodded at her.

“You can do it! Come on!”, she yelled back and Amity cleared her throat.

“I CAN DO IT!!”, she finally let out, and even Willow took a step back at the volume her petite, usually so eloquent and composed friend had just unleashed.

“LOUDER!!”, she yelled back and Amity finally unhooked her arms from her body, breathed in as deeply as she could, and squinted her eyes to let out a scream that she felt like shook the ground around her.

Her head started droning with the volume she was creating, and she was sure she hadn’t ever been as loud. Her face turned red as she slowly curled up with the scream using up all her air and leaving her muscles cramping and tensing.

Finally, her voice gave out.

The first thing she heard was Willows cheer, then she let out a scream herself again and Amity joined her, screaming until her voice stopped working and her body felt like it was about to crumble. She breathed heavily when Willow’s hand finally clapped her on her back and she spluttered.

“Didn’t know you had that in you.”, she praised and Amity looked up to her with a grin.

“… That was-… Interesting…”, she panted and her friend laughed.

“Did it help?”, she asked and Amity nodded at her.

“If just for the adrenaline being used up, yes.”

Willow pumped a fist.

“Success!”

---

Let me know if you like it!

#toh #the owl house #amity blight #willow park #scream #just have this

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songsformonkeys · 3 years

Text

Pedro Character match-up for my the wonderful @mourningbirds1. Written by me. Awesome banner by @yespolkadotkitty

I’m pairing you with the grumpiest DEA agent, Javier Peña (and maybe...):

You and Javier Peña had become roommates after only knowing each other for little over a week. As Escobar's drug business had grown, the DEA had also seen an influx of people coming to Colombia for work. Unfortunately, there were only so many apartments that the agency had at their disposal so after a while, sharing had been strongly encouraged by your bosses. When you arrived in Colombia, having your own apartment was already a luxury that was only afforded those who lived with their partners.

Neither you nor Javier had been thrilled at the prospect of sharing a home with anyone. The ”interview” Javier had held to find the least awful candidate had mostly consisted of the two of you telling each other all your least endearing roommate qualities, as if hoping that if you could scare each other off you wouldn't have to share your home after all.

Annoyingly, it turned out that you and Javier actually agreed on most things about how cohabitating should be done to minimize conflicts, and by the end of the talk you were both forced to admit that if you had to share a home with anyone, the two of you would probably be the least likely to murder each other.

And you were right. Living with Javier worked surprisingly well. It was established from day one that morning time before the first coffee was holy time and not for talking. A verbal exchange of ”here” and ”thanks” as one handed the other his or her mug of coffee was okay but beyond that, mornings were a time for thinking and contemplating.

It was also established early on that a closed door or finding someone awake in the middle of the night was not an invitation to act as the other person's therapist. You both needed your alone time. And both your sleeping schedules were shit! Sometimes Javier would join you on the balcony at night when neither of you could sleep, but he always brought two glasses of wine as a bribe and then you drank in silence for a while before making a second attempt at sleeping.

However, it isn't all silence in your home. Javier gets surprisingly chatty when watching the news and you often entertain him with long conversations about the latest thing you've read. Javier isn't much of a reader himself but he loves to hear you talk about the books you devour. Sometimes Steve comes over, mostly to talk about work, but that always makes Javier perk up too, almost to the point where it makes you slightly jealous how comfortable they seem with each other. You can tell they care for each other and when Connie leaves Steve to go back to the States, Javier sort of enters a sympathy mourning period along with Steve. Office hours feel like a goddamn wake everyday for at least a couple of weeks before Carrillo eventually loses his shit, yells at everyone to get their priorities straight and then pours every ounce of alcohol he can find down the drain. Surprisingly, that helps.

As time passes, you and Javier slowly but surely begin to domesticate each other. It's a little unexpected but it's nice and you don't actually mind. You cook dinners for each other and sometimes Javier even lights the candles to make it extra cozy – he has a thing for cozy lighting, which you'd learned when you moved in and discovered the countless small lamps on every flat surface of the apartment. Every Sunday morning, you bake bread. Nothing too fancy but it's a surefire way to lure Javier out of bed before noon. The two of you have movie nights at least a few times a week, watching old classics while Javier gives you a foot rub or you comb your fingers through his hair as he lays with his head on your lap.

Javier starts leaving the door to the bathroom open when he showers in the morning, because he noticed how it would disrupt your morning routine when he would never shower at the same time. The two of you usually chat a bit about the day ahead and who's turn it is to go shopping that evening, as you put on your mascara and he cleans himself. If you sneak a peek when Javier steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist, he doesn't seem to mind.

He does however mind when he tries to enter the bathroom one evening as you shower, only to find the door locked. The indignant ”What the hell?” can be heard even under the spray of the shower and you yell at him that you'll be out in a couple of minutes. You think nothing more of it, but when you emerge from the bathroom in your big robe later Javier is still standing outside the door with his arms crossed. ”So this whole mi bathroom time es tu bathroom time is just a one way thing now?” he asks. You almost smile until you realize that he's actually a bit offended. For real.

”I...don't like people watching me,” you admit. ”Why?” he asks. You look down at your body, unsure how to explain something to him that's so obvious to you. But despite how often you call him one, Javier is not actually a complete idiot and he tilts his head to look at you. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze. ”Are you serious?” he asks, then his face softens a little and he continues. ”You're serious.” He takes a step closer and you hold your hands up ”You try and take this robe off and I'll fight you,” you warn him. ”Relax, I'm not in the habit of undressing women unless they ask me to.” He doesn't come any closer after that, just stands where he is and looks at you. When he eventually speaks, his voice is kind but firm. ”Whatever you're seeing...it isn't what everyone sees. I could look at you for days and never get tired of looking.”

It still takes you three weeks before you actually let him slide that same robe of your shoulders and take you to his bedroom. You're a bundle of nerves at first but Javier's gaze holds nothing but kindness, appreciation and lust as he let's it caress your naked form. He also turns out to have a whole arsenal of ways to distract you whenever a destructive thought comes creeping in and afterwards, when he's snoring lightly next to you in bed, you actually regret waiting so long before you let this happen.

Now that permission has been given, Javier is much more tactile, seizing most opportunities to pull you onto his lap whenever he can, for an impromptu makeout session that leaves you both breathless and his hair sticking up in every direction after you'd run your fingers through it. He keeps the affectionate displays within the four walls of your home, however, having muttered something about safety that you hadn't listened too closely too.

Other than the addition of kissing and sex, things are pretty much the same between the two of you. So much so that after a while you start to wonder...

”Are we a couple?” you ask Javier one evening after having just finished watching another movie. Your head is on his lap and he's twirling a lock of your hair between his fingers. Javier stills and looks down at you. ”How so?” he asks, as if this sudden need to put a label on things confuses him a little.

”Well, I'm just asking because Steve cornered me in the parking lot after work the other day and he...well he sort of asked me out and...” ”He did what now?!” Javier interrupts, looking shocked, and you smirk. ”I'll take that reaction as a yes to the couples question then.” Javier just huffs and goes back to watching the movie, but he does take your hand, a little possessively.

After a while he just can't help himself. ”Steve really asked you out?” You shrug ”Shocking, I know, I assumed he would ask you first too.” Javier huffs again but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite place and it makes you continue. ”It's been quite some time since Connie left, Javi. I think he's just lonely.” Javier is silent, tapping his fingers against the back of your hand. He has his thinking face on. The silence stretches out for what feels like forever. Then he speaks. ”Maybe we should...invite him over some night...for... dinner, or something.”

You stare at him ”Would you like that?” He stares back at you ”Would you like that?” After a few seconds, you nod. ”I think I'd like that.” Javier smiles.

#pedro character match-up #javier peña #narcos

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olliepig · 4 years

Text

Waiting in the Wings chapter 5

Thanks as always to the wonderful (and ever patient) @willow-salix for all her help in getting this beast out.

As always, the whole thing is available on AO3 here

********************************

The cheers of the crowd bathing her in a glow of satisfaction that she’d never managed to find elsewhere, Cat stood on the stage of the Opera House after her performance of Swan Lake, savouring the moment. It was a marathon of a ballet that took every ounce of energy she had, and the appreciation shown by the audience at the end made the hard work and downright pain of her chosen career totally worth it.

She knew as well as everyone else on the stage that the post performance glow could be short lived and, with her long day nearly over, she was relieved that all she had left to do was receive her flowers, get changed and head home. Sensing a shift in focus from those around her, she looked over to the wings in time to see one of the Opera House staff staggering onto the stage with quite possibly the largest bouquet she had ever seen and heading straight for her.

Since her first performance of Giselle, larger and larger arrangements of flowers had started arriving at the Opera House to be presented onstage at the end of each show. There was never a name or message on the card hidden inside, just the initial S and two kisses. It was a fact that didn’t go unnoticed and became a source of debate and amusement within the company whenever she performed to see how many flowers she would receive and whether the mysterious sender would make themselves known.

Outwardly, Cat pretended to be exasperated by the constant influx of flowers but secretly she loved it and always thanked Scott profusely for his thoughtfulness. She had never expressly told him what her performance schedule was, so she supposed that he had looked it up and made arrangements accordingly. It had never been discussed aside from her giving her thanks but it was something that made her heart flutter dangerously every time and she cherished it.

With the curtain calls over, and with everyone having somehow managed to avoid tripping over the flowers as they laid on the stage, Cat headed back to her dressing room, barely able to see over the top of them. It wasn’t the only bouquet she had received that night and as she walked she thought that it was lucky that it was a route she had followed so often as she was relying almost entirely on memory to find her way.

As soon as she was safely in the dressing room, she carefully placed her flowers in the sink and pulled out her phone.

How the hell am I supposed to get these home on the tube?! They barely fit in the bloody dressing room! (Thank you very much for them btw. They’re beautiful!)

Smiling, she put her phone down and started to get on with the business of getting her costume undone when, almost instantly, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Good job I'm here tonight then, isn’t it? I’ll have the car at the front when you’re ready.

Cat smiled as her heart lurched with the unexpected excitement of seeing Scott again. It wasn’t the first time they had met up since their night at Penny’s and their friendship felt like it was blossoming. Multiple messages were exchanged daily and the more they learned about the others lives, the more comfortable they became.

What?! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Why don’t you come round to stage door and I’ll come down to meet you there? I need to grab a shower before I leave and I’ll be a while so you can wait in my dressing room.

Text sent, Cat raced through getting her tutu off and threw a tracksuit on. Checking her phone, she smiled again as she saw the reply,

I wanted to surprise you and yeah, that sounds much better than sitting out here by myself. See you soon!

Keen not to keep Scott waiting, she flew down the stairs, shoving down the nagging thought that she shouldn’t be this excited to see someone who was supposed to be just a friend. It was a decision that they had made together and she was determined to stick to it, regardless of the little voice in her head that kept pointing out that it had been her idea and that he had merely agreed to it.

Scott was already waiting for her when she arrived and her breath caught slightly as she took him in before he spotted her. He really was almost impossibly beautiful, she thought; the very epitome of tall, dark and handsome. His impeccably cut suit looked to be the same colour as his dress blues from his airforce days, a memory that stirred another flutter in her stomach.

“C’mon then you,” she greeted him fondly, enjoying the look of surprise on his face when he registered her next to him as she grabbed his hand and led him into the maze of corridors backstage.

“Well hello to you too,” he smiled, following behind and enjoying the touch of her hand much more than he thought he should.

Having never discussed the identity of her flower sender with anyone but her closest friends, bumping into two members of the corps de ballet on the stairs while escorting Scott Tracy back up to her dressing room was definitely not part of Cat’s plan to keep it a secret, especially as, she realised with a start, she was still holding his hand.

A hot flash of something akin to jealousy flared through her as she saw the appreciative glances they threw his way as they passed by and she mentally kicked herself for it as she hurried an oblivious Scott up to the relative privacy of her room. It wasn’t that she was trying to keep their friendship a secret; she just really didn’t want to be pressured into publicly defining something that was so far totally undefinable to her.

“You did great tonight,” Scott started with a smile that made Cat’s heart rate increase as the door closed behind them.

“Thank you very much,” she grinned, turning away quickly so he couldn’t see the effect he’d had on her. She watched in the mirror as he headed over and made himself comfortable on her window seat before starting the job of unpinning her headdress and letting her hair out of its tight bun. “When you said you were here I wondered if you’d seen it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it, even if it did mean a ridiculously early start this morning. Sorry about the flowers by the way,” he added as he caught sight of them, the small sink making the arrangement look even bigger than it was. “I didn’t realise you’d have other bouquets as well and I genuinely didn’t expect mine to be quite that big.”

“That’s OK,” laughed Cat, moving on to removing the worst of her makeup. “It was hilarious watching them try to get them all onstage. I’m just glad you’re here to help me get them all home.”

“So, um, what would you like to do once you’re ready? I’d be very happy to take you for dinner if you'd like?” Scott knew full well that she wouldn’t have eaten since late afternoon and would likely be hungry after all the energy she had used in her performance. He had many happy memories of late meals after her shows and was keen to recapture those moments, even if they didn’t lead to the same end to the night as they used to.

“Not sure I really fancy dinner,” came the reply, throwing a bucket of ice water over the daydream he had somehow slipped into. “It’s been a long day and my feet really hurt. I was just planning on making some pasta and chilling out tonight if you’d like to join me?”

“That sounds wonderful,” smiled Scott, his initial disappointment at her rebuttal turning to enthusiasm for her counter offer, visions of cosying up on the sofa appearing in his head.

“Right, I’m going to jump in the shower, keep making yourself at home and I’ll be as quick as I can,” she finished, grabbing her clothes and disappearing without a backward glance, leaving Scott to his thoughts.

Scott looked around and wondered what to do. He'd been in the dressing room once before after Giselle but with Penny and Gordon there too he hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time. He was acutely aware that this was her private space in the theatre and he didn’t want to pry. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He found her fascinating and wanted to find out everything he could about her life but he wasn’t prepared to violate her privacy, so he contented himself with settling down on the chair at her dressing table and looking at the pictures that she had stuck around her mirror.

He’d looked at nearly all of them when, to his surprise, he spotted a picture he had taken of Cat and some friends of hers whose names he had once known. Seeing it again transported him back to that day: waking up with her beside him before going for a lazy brunch, then heading out on a trail walk along the James River where they bumped into a group of her friends, joining them for a while on their walk and laughing with them as they took the pictures.

He wondered, with a pang of regret, if she still had the picture of the two of them that had been taken moments later, cuddled up to each other and smiling, cheeks rosy from the slight chill in the air. He’d not thought of that picture since the day it had been taken. At the time it hadn’t seemed like it was of any real importance, just a snapshot of another day together with the promise of countless more like it in their future, but now… Well, now it mattered somehow.

His musing was interrupted by Cat breezing out of the showerroom, now dressed and ready to go. As they chatted amicably while she gathered her belongings, to his delight he noticed with a start that she was wearing the same outfit that she had at Pennys, sending his thoughts spiralling back to the events of that night and making him wonder if there was a significance there that he was not yet aware of. He was very relieved when she thrust a couple of her bouquets into his arms and led him out of the room, unwittingly breaking that particular train of thought before it could affect him too much.

Down at the stage door, Scott found himself hanging back while Cat signed autographs for the second time in as many months. Unlike the last time, however, he was now playing the role of a glorified vase and within the first 10 minutes he started to quite seriously regret his choice of bouquet as the foliage tickled his nose for what felt like the 100th time.

The number of people who turned out, and were prepared to wait in the unseasonably cool London night to speak to their favourite dancers, amazed him. When he thought about it properly, he wasn’t sure why; they were stars in their own right and their fans wanting to meet them made perfect sense. It was a world away from his experiences of waiting alone for Cat after her early performances in Richmond and his heart swelled with pride at her accomplishments since then as he watched her work her way through the crowd.

As he waited, he became uncomfortably aware of people watching him too and once he had realised that, he became sure he could hear his name being whispered in conversation, making him quickly duck behind the flowers, using them as a shield. He was well aware of the attention his presence could attract and also very keen not to let the focus be taken away from those who deserved it so he started to maneuver himself away from the crowd.

On their way down from the dressing room, Scott had promised Cat that he would have the car waiting for her once she was finished and when he became certain that he had been spotted, he gratefully snuck away to fetch it, rifling through his pocket for the keys and trying not to drop the damn flowers that were quickly becoming the bane of his life.

Safely settled in the driver's seat, Scott allowed himself to slump for a moment and prepare for the evening ahead of him. He cherished his friendship with Cat but there was no doubt of how he still felt about her. As soon as they’d started talking again it was clear to him that they still had a connection and the night they’d spent at Penny’s had cemented that. Or at least he’d thought it had.

He understood why she had made the decision to be friends and nothing more, but that didn’t mean it hurt him any less. He had pushed that hurt down in order to keep her in his life and he’d been pleasantly surprised at how natural it had felt when they had met up a few weeks later. Where he’d expected awkwardness and long silences, he’d found laughter and flowing conversation which encouraged him to persevere further, truly hoping that one day his feelings would fade and he could be the friend she desired.

When they were apart, he almost managed to convince himself that friendship between them would be entirely possible, but as soon as they were together, he longed to reach out and bridge the gap between them. Being so close to her but unable to act on his feelings was like some kind of delicious torture that he hated and loved in equal measure. He was hopelessly addicted to her, and he had no idea what to do about it.

*****

Feeling unnaturally clumsy under Scott’s gaze, Cat muddled around her flat, finding light switches and vases while simultaneously urging him to make himself at home and apologising for the non existent mess. She hadn’t been expecting a visitor when she had left that morning and she reddened as she spotted the underwear that she’d left over a radiator to dry, grabbing and stuffing them down the side of a cupboard, most likely never to be seen again.

If Scott saw her, he didn’t mention it and for that she thought she would be forever grateful. He followed her around, helping as much as he could as he looked around in interest at the place she called home.

“Hey,” she commented with a smile, finally coming to rest and surveying the veritable florists that had appeared in her kitchen, “remember when you used to just get me a single rose after a show?”

“What, like this one?” Scott grinned, holding out a blood red flower that he had produced from lord knows where.

Cat smiled slowly as she met his eyes, making his heart race. He kissed the flower and presented it to her with a deep bow, as he had seen her doing to her partner on stage earlier that night and was delighted when she received it with a curtsey.

“I…. Thank you,” Cat smiled, genuinely pleased with what she hoped would be her final floral gift for the night. The rose brought back so many memories of their time together and for that alone it meant more than all the other flowers combined.

“Right, shall we get dinner on, then? We're still making pasta?” Scott broke the moment and took charge. Seeing a kettle, he filled it and set it to boil before looking around the kitchen for any hints of where utensils and food might be kept.

“Bottom drawer, next to the fridge,” Cat instructed, following his line of thinking and directing him towards the saucepans. The pair of them bumped companionably around the kitchen as they made the simple meal for themselves, falling easily back into old habits and divisions of labour.

“Ooh, wine,” Scott exclaimed, emerging from the fridge and holding a bottle triumphantly above his head. “Would you like a glass?”

“Yes, I think I would,” came the reply from somewhere deep within a cupboard as Cat rummaged through for the sauce she was looking for. “It always takes me ages to unwind properly after a show and I do like a nice glass or two now and again.”

“I remember,” Scott replied softly as he put the bottle down. Something in his tone caused Cat to stop what she was doing and turn to look at him, finding his eyes mesmerising as they caught hers.

Cat was pinned by them, her breath quickened as she drowned in their depths and she fought the sudden urge to take the few steps needed to close the gap between them. His lips looked so soft and inviting and she found herself wondering if they tasted the same as when she had last kissed them.

“Shit!” Cat’s attention was distracted by the unmistakable sound of a pan boiling over. She rushed to mop up the worst of the water, the moment lost.

By the time she looked back up, Scott had moved too and had busied himself by pouring two glasses of wine and getting the plates ready for when it was time to dish up their dinner.

It was probably for the best, she told herself. They were just friends. They’d both agreed. And friends didn’t look at each other like that, right?

Settling down after dinner, they flopped into well practised positions on the sofa, facing each other with their legs comfortably tangled together in the middle and her feet in his lap.

As he listened to Cat talking about her plans for her summer break and the ballets she had coming up in the new season, Scott had found his mind drifting back to the moment that they had shared in the kitchen, feeling once again the way his breath had seemed to catch every time her eyes met his.

Lost in her, he absentmindedly rubbed her feet, feeling the tense muscles slowly loosen under pressure from his thumbs, the action soothing him and allowing him time to let his racing thoughts settle.

Ultimately, he had no idea what was going on. If they were to be friends, he’d make his peace with that and would continue to hide his true feelings for her until they faded, but they continued to have moments that were charged with such intensity that they were impossible to ignore or write off as something else.

He realised that she had stopped talking and was watching him with an almost unreadable expression but for the little smile creeping onto the corners of her mouth.

“Sorry,’ he apologised, feeling the heat creeping up his cheeks and snatched his hands away as if her feet were on fire.

“No, it’s OK. It felt good,” she reassured him. “You were always really good at that. It just brought back a lot of memories, that's all.”

Scott smiled gratefully and went back to working on getting the knots out of her feet, a comfortable silence coming over them. Listening to her talking had planted the seed of an idea, one which he was unaccountably nervous about broaching lest she think he was overstepping any boundaries. As he worked, the idea grew and coalesced into something more tangible, something that he thought might actually help cement their friendship.

“I’ve got something to ask you…” he started hesitantly, “You can absolutely say no but I wanted to ask anyway.”

“OK, fire away.” Cat fixed him with a look that excited and scared him in equal measure as she fiddled with her wine glass.

“I know you were saying you have some plans for your summer break, but if you have a bit of time would you like to come out to the island for a visit? Spend a bit of time in the sun?”

“Wow! That’s quite the suggestion,” she paused, taking a moment to consider the offer and nearly causing Scott’s heart to stop. “Yeah, that sounds lovely,” she decided, giving him a small nod and a beaming smile that lit up her face.

Scott let out the breath he realised he’d been holding since he’d let the question into the open and his smile matched hers, relief washing over him. “Really? You don’t have to agree to it if you’re not completely sure.”

“No, I really want to, it was just a surprise that’s all.” As the idea took hold, Cat could feel herself getting more excited. She’d not had a proper chance to relax since the previous summer, and even that had been marred by the tail end of her previous relationship, so the thought of a week on a tropical island with Scott was definitely something she could get on board with.

“Amazing! You’re going to love it,” Scott smiled, beyond delighted at the thought of being able to show her his home and introduce her to everyone who was important to him. “We can sort out the details another time though. You look exhausted and don’t think I’ve not seen you stifling yawns for the last 10 minutes.”

Cat couldn’t do anything but laugh. “Yeah, you got me, I think it might be my bedtime. It’s awkward question time now, though. Where were you planning on staying tonight?”

“Selene said I could use her place so I was just going to go there,” Scott responded at once, his answer taking her by surprise. “Um, who’s Selene?” Cat tried very hard to maintain an even tone and a neutral expression despite the flash of jealousy that surged through her for the second time that night, somehow catching her by surprise again.

“John’s fiancee and my best friend. Remember, I did tell you about her?” replied Scott, trying very hard not to grin at her obvious discomfort.

“Ah yeah, I just, um... forgot her name, that’s all…” Cat tried to explain, fooling nobody, least of all herself.

“You weren’t jealous there were you, Miss George?” Scott pressed, a glint appearing in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips.

“Not at all,” Cat insisted, suddenly becoming very interested in her wine glass and trying to ignore the flush that had appeared on her cheeks. “Well, it’s very late, we've had a drink and I have a spare room so you’re welcome to stay here if that would be easier?”

“That does sound tempting. I’ll not be sleeping much though,” he couldn’t help but pause for effect and was gratified with the response when Cat’s eyes shot back up to meet his as she cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s 2 in the afternoon my time so I’m pretty wide awake I’m afraid. If you don’t mind me watching TV and having a quick nap so I’m good to fly back tomorrow, then I’d love to stay.”

“You’re a terrible tease, Mr Tracy,” Cat shook her head but her smile betrayed her true feelings. “Of course that’s OK.”

Having set Scott up with everything he could ever possibly need for the coming hours, Cat finally retired to bed but despite her exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily for her. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept returning to the man in her living room and how torn she felt about him. From the moment they had met again, something had been constantly there, telling her that she couldn’t let him go but to her it wasn’t as simple as that.

At an early age she had learned the pain of rejection by those who should have loved her and it had scarred her deeply. In Scott, she had found someone to whom she had given both her trust and her heart, and his sudden departure from her life had hurt her tremendously.

Once broken, trust wasn’t something she gave out again that easily and she had thought very carefully before letting him back into her life. Yet, despite everything, she wanted to give him her trust. She wasn’t prepared to risk loving him for a second time but friendship seemed to be a good compromise to make in order to be in his life but not stray too close.

When they were apart it seemed perfectly easy. The messages and calls flowed constantly and there was no end to the things they could talk about. The problem arose when they were together. He seemed to have a magnetic pull on her that was getting increasingly difficult to deny. She had slipped up once and even though her body might be crying out for a repeat performance, her mind was made up.

Groaning quietly, she rolled over and buried her head in the pillow. It was going to be a long night.

*****

Whatever Scott had planned for their Sunday morning together, it was not the little cafe that he found himself sitting in a few blocks away from Cat’s flat. At the very least, he had imagined going someplace where there were proper tablecloths covering tables that didn’t wobble when you leaned on them, risking spilling drinks with every move. However, the food was excellent, the coffee plentiful and the company the best he could imagine so, all things considered, he was very happy with his situation.

Full of food and starting to feel tired from a day that had started almost 19 hours earlier on Tracy Island, he stretched back in his chair, inadvertently catching the attention of the waitress and flashing her a smile in response to her enquiring look.

Across from him, Cat felt a rush of annoyance fire through her as she sipped her coffee and tried to maintain a neutral expression. She’d been feeling on edge all morning, the fight between what she was prepared to give and what she really wanted, wearing her down and making her feel vulnerable and irritable.

An idea sparked at that moment though, one that would both prove to herself that she was fine with their friendship being nothing more than that and take away any temptation to push things further.

“You should get her number,” she suggested, instantly surprised by how much that simple little sentence hurt.

“What? Why?” Scott stuttered, completely blindsided. He couldn’t think of anything in his behaviour that had suggested that he might have wanted a date and had no idea where this suggestion could possibly have come from.

“You were flirting with her. All those jokes and looks while we were ordering, and that smile right there? Don’t say you weren’t,” she continued, hating herself for every word but doubling down and pushing ahead anyway. The thought of Scott dating anyone hurt her more than she was willing to admit, but she had started down this path and she was committed now.

Scott sat back, running his hands through his perfectly styled hair, not quite believing what was happening. “I wasn’t flirting, I was being polite and friendly. There is a difference, you know.” He knew he was being defensive, but at that moment he just didn't care.

“You’ve got to admit it though, you are a flirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not hit on someone, given half a chance.” Cat felt like she was watching herself from afar, not quite believing what she was saying. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt the cold rush of dread spread over her and picked up her coffee cup again in a bid to disguise her shaking hands.

“Listen, this conversation is starting to make me really uncomfortable. I don’t want to date the waitress and I’m not really sure where all of this has come from. Can we just drop it now please?”

“Sorry,” Cat looked down at the empty cup in her hands, desperately wishing that she could go back in time to before she’d ever thought of her wonderful ‘idea’. In retrospect, she wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen, but it certainly wasn’t the reaction that she had gotten. She couldn’t remember a time that he’d ever spoken to her as sharply as that before and it had shaken her.

Scott nodded curtly and went back to his coffee, looking outwardly calm but his mind was whirling. He always flirted. It was part of who he was and he’d always thought she liked that, or at the very least accepted it about him. It had never been an issue when they had dated before so he couldn’t understand why him behaving totally normally to a waitress was now cause for comment.

Fine, he thought petulantly, if flirting means that I want to sleep with someone and we’re just going to be friends then I’d better stop flirting with her too. Don’t want her getting the wrong idea now, do we?

A pang of loss hit him as soon as he made the decision; he had come to crave the excitement that her looks and touches gave him and it would be hard to give that up. Not that he’d been the only one doing the flirting, he thought in annoyance. Not responding was going to be a tough but perhaps necessary evil given the circumstances.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked with the barest hint of a smile.

Cat nodded miserably. She knew he was angry, she could see it in the set of his jaw. The sparkle had gone from his eyes and he was avoiding looking at her but really she couldn’t blame him. She’d messed up and called him out on something that came to him as naturally as breathing, so he was perfectly entitled to be annoyed and she hated herself for being the cause of it.

Walking around the local park afterward, Cat did her best to act as if nothing had happened but she wasn’t getting anywhere. She knew from experience that Scott needed a bit of time to cool down when he was angry, but they had limited time together and she didn't want to waste it, even if he was clearly in a bad mood with her.

Slowly, the frosty atmosphere between them thawed slightly but there were still long, awkward silences that had never been there before and Cat had to work hard to initiate any conversation. The animosity that had radiated from Scott since they left the cafe abated but Cat found she still couldn’t relax as she started to notice a marked change in Scott’s behaviour towards her.

Since their argument, he hadn’t been cold exactly, but there was a reservation in his actions that hadn’t been there before. Where he had been open and playful, often touching her hand or holding a smile for fractionally longer than necessary, now he was barely making any contact at all and she felt the loss keenly.

Despite trying to act relaxed, Scott was trying desperately to squash down his natural urge to fix everything. He knew that a quick smile and a cheeky comment would make everything OKagain but he hadn't liked being called out for flirting so he was damned if he was going to use it to get back into her good books.

Her comment about asking out the waitress had confused him and nothing more but, when she started challenging him about flirting constantly, that had angered him. The more he thought about it the more angry he had become and the more he doubled down on his resolution not to flirt with her again.

Deep down, he knew he was being petty and probably overreacting but he’d gone to a lot of effort to pull together his trip to London He’d been so excited to see Cat and spend some quality time with her and it felt like her actions at brunch had thrown all his efforts back in his face and ruined it. He stewed silently as they walked, his growing anger mixing with regret, knowing that he would need to apologise at some point but not willing to back down and fix everything quite yet.

The longer it went on, the more her attempts to apologise and lighten the mood were rebuffed, the angrier Cat became. She knew she’d messed up but his treatment towards her was completely disproportionate. She’d apologised and in her experience of adult relationships that was the point at which people would talk about it and move on. Scott treating her like she was barely even an acquaintance when she was giving him a chance to regain her trust was going too far and she wasn’t going to stand for it.

She’d had enough and took them on a shortcut back to her flat, keen to get the walk over so she could talk to him more privately. Her anger at his childish behavior was growing by the minute and by the time they reached her flat she was seriously considering whether it was worth even continuing their friendship at all.

Closing the door behind her, Cat was surprised to find that Scott had already grabbed his bag and was standing ready to go.

“I need to get back...” he tailed off, glancing down at his bag as he shifted uncomfortably.

Cat had always known he was going to need to leave after brunch. She would much rather have had a chance to sit down and talk properly but time was against them and she wasn’t going to let him run away on her when the going got tough again. “OK, but I’m going to ask you something before you go.”

“Of course,” Scott replied warily, not expecting the sharp tone of her voice or the way she straightened as if preparing herself for battle.

“Is everything OK with you today? You’ve seemed pretty distant since we went for brunch,” she challenged with a lot more confidence than she felt. It was not a question that she wanted the answer to, but she couldn’t let him go without asking him, she had to know.

“Yeah, I’ve told you I’m fine,” he answered shortly, keen not to get drawn into a discussion right now when emotions were clearly still running high for both of them.

“I just… I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be friends or not?” she met his eyes, finding her strength and challenging him to be honest with her now that the question, and her deepest fear, was in the open.

“Of course I do. What gave you that impression?” Scott was growing frustrated by her questions, baffled as to how they could possibly even be having this discussion.

“Yesterday you surprised me for the night, bought me the biggest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen and invited me to spend a week with you on your family's island, and this afternoon you’ve hardly even looked at me,” she argued, feeling more confident about making her point but not wholly convinced by his answer given his actions that day. “I get it, I messed up earlier and I’m sorry, but I feel like I have whiplash from how fast everything has changed. So I’ll ask you again, and I want you to be honest with me - do you want to be friends or not?”

“No, I don’t,” Scott snapped, as anger surged through him, shocking her with his ferocity.

Everything he’d been doing to ensure he didn’t cross the line from friends to something more had been taking its toll on him, and that, combined with whatever the hell it was that had happened at brunch, had finally pushed him to his limit.

“I flew 13,000 miles to see you. I rearranged my time off so it fitted in with your performance and your schedule. And today you tell me I should be dating some waitress I’ve never spoken to before? You want to know what I want? You”

Cat was speechless. All she could do was stare at him, her mouth slightly agape, as he bared his soul.

“I want to date you, Cat, no one else. I was to kiss you and take care of you and love you like I used to.”

Suddenly realising what he’d said, Scott pushed past her without waiting for a reply and walked through the door, slamming it on his way out and leaving a bewildered Cat to wonder how on earth she was going to salvage this one.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy

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