#again my apologies i know this should be journaled about instead. sorry u had to see all this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milkybonya · 3 years

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awkward confession

Warnings: food mentions

Pairing: college senior!Jinhwan x shy (gender neutral) reader

Summary: over reading week, you invite Jinhwan to your home and as he looks around your childhood room, he stumbles across a journal of yours.

Word count: idk but i think it’s over 1k? it’s a longer one :o

[a/n]: after playing superstar yg, i’ve been feeling soft for Jinhwan? i know, even i’m surprised by the correlation LOL but enjoy this~

- prologue

You first met Jinhwan in your freshman year at a party, dragged there by your newfound friends who claimed that it would be fun, but you just wanted to go home.

After an hour, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. Saying goodbye to your friends, you grabbed your jacket and stepped outside, clueless about how to get back to campus and to your dorm.

Opening google maps on your phone, you tapped your foot impatiently, waiting for it to load. Your phone was at 1%, but maybe if you could just get a glimpse-

It died.

Throwing it into your pocket, you sighed and stared up at the black sky.

“Heading home?” someone asked you.

You turned your head to the side and saw Jinhwan standing next to you, with his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket.

“Yeah, but my phone just died,” you said, pressing your lips together to contain your anger.

“Want me to drive you?” he asked, waving his car keys around. “My car is new but I’ve had my license for a long time, so no need to worry.”

You laughed at his comment and decided to accept the offer, since you knew he was your senior and you could trust him. The week before classes started, you had been told about a few of the seniors in your program at orientation, and Jinhwan had been one of them. Apparently, he was very kind and laid-back.

Before you entered his car, he formally introduced himself and you did the same. When you were inside, he passed you the aux cord but then stopped.

“Right! Your phone is dead. Here, take mine! Just search through Spotify and play whatever you like.”

“I’m not sure if you’ll like it, though..” you said, hesitating. Sharing your music with someone else was always a bit embarrassing for you.

“As long as it’s not Kids Bop, then I’m sure I won’t mind,” he said, starting to drive.

“What if I play death metal?” you said.

“Fine by me,” he said.

You found an artist that you liked and started playing their songs. Jinhwan smiled and nodded his head along to the beat, making you feel more comfortable.

“Oh, you might as well save your number in there while you’re at it, or save my number. If you ever need help with anything, you can contact me!”

You added yourself to his contacts and sent yourself a message from his phone so you would also have his number. In his phone, you saved your name as ‘[y/n] :)’.

“Which dorm are you in?” he asked.

“The one behind the library,” you said.

“Ah, that’s the worst spot. Hey, we actually have a free spot in our student home if you ever want to join us. Although I don’t want to make you live with your scary seniors if it makes you uncomfortable,” Jinhwan said, jokingly.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“It wouldn’t be intruding, don’t worry! But just do whatever is most comfortable for you. You can always crash at our place when you get tired of your dorm.”

As you passed an ice cream shop that was near campus, you found yourself sighing. Some late night ice cream would really hit the spot right now...

When Jinhwan asked why you were sighing, you confided your thoughts and without any hesitation, he turned the car around and stopped right in front of the ice cream place.

“I’ll get you whatever you like, my treat!” he said, hopping out.

When you chose the ice cream you wanted, Jinhwan also chose one for himself and paid for both of you. You grabbed a seat by the window right next to the glass door. There was arcade music echoing throughout the tiny place, since there were a few arcade machines behind you.

“This is so good!” you said, eating your ice cream.

“Have you never been here before?” Jinhwan asked you, smiling. This whole time he had not stopped smiling at you, and it made you feel warm inside.

“I’ve always wanted to, but this first month of classes has been super stressful.”

“I hear you, but it’s important to take breaks! If you’re ever stressed, you can let me know and we can come back here,” he said.

Jinhwan had been nothing but unusually nice to you, but you didn’t think much of it. A lot of the seniors were nice to the freshman and juniors anyway.

After you finished your ice cream, Jinhwan dropped you off at your dorm. Even though he watched you walk in, he still texted you right as you reached your room.

hello ‘[y/n] :)’ did you get in safely?

yes, thank u! you literally watched me walk in lol

that’s right, but who knows what can happen on your way to your room from the front doors of the dorm

i appreciate you :)

do you like smiley faces? u even saved ur name as ‘[y/n] :)’

ah, i guess i do like them ><

that’s cute~

Your heart fluttered seeing this message, and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. He’s just my senior, you told yourself. He’s just being nice.

A few days later, you saw Jinhwan in the library, studying. You thought that you should say hello out of courtesy, but you didn’t want to bother him, so you continued to walk along the shelves in search of the book you needed.

Getting distracted, you ended up with five big textbooks in your arms. You couldn’t help it, they were all so interesting...

Trying to reach for a book while your hands were still full, suddenly everything fell. The sound of the books falling to the ground echoed throughout the library, and you apologized under your breath as you struggled to pick everything up. You felt so embarrassed that you wanted to disappear.

Looking up amidst your struggle, you saw Jinhwan looking at you from his spot. When he recognized you, he immediately rushed over.

Did this happen to me because I didn’t say hi to him, you thought. Is this karma?

“[y/n], it’s you? Are you okay? Let me help you,” he said, taking some of the books from your arms.

“These are really heavy, you should get a cart for them.” Jinhwan moved his head around to search for one.

“No, it’s fine! I grabbed too many anyway! I’ll just put them back-” you said, not wanting to bother Jinhwan anymore. But he firmly held onto your books until he found a cart.

“I know where some better books on this topic are. Do you want me to show them to you?” Jinhwan asked you, placing the books on the cart.

“No, really, it’s fine! You’re busy studying-”

“I need a break anyway~” he quietly sang, walking towards the spot that he told you about. Forced to follow him, you trailed along. He had a skip in his step, and it made you smile.

“I’m really sorry, I know midterms must be starting for you-”

He stopped and turned around.

“[y/n], it’s really fine! I wouldn’t help you if I didn’t want to,” he said.

After he showed you the books that he was talking about, he invited you to join him at his spot to study.

“Ah, right! You treated me for ice cream last time. Do you want anything to drink? I can buy you something!” you said.

Jinhwan chuckled.

“There’s no need for that! I already have a coffee here,” he said, pointing to the coffee next to him.

“What about a muffin! A cookie?” you asked.

He laughed, again.

“Okay, you can get me something if you really want to. But the muffins here are terrible, so go for a cookie instead!” he told you.

When you returned with some chocolate chip cookies, he took them from you with a wink. He let you have some too, claiming that you needed fuel to study.

While you were deep into one of the books you were reading and taking notes on a sticky note, you finally looked down to write something and found a smiley face on the corner of your sticky note. Not remembering drawing that, you looked up at Jinhwan, but he was also busy studying. It had to be him, you thought.

You picked up your pen and finding a free spot in the margin of his notebook, doodled a fox carefully.

A few minutes after you returned to your own work, he asked, “well I wonder where this fox came from?”

“Well I wonder where this smiley face came from?” you asked him, pointing to the smiley face on your sticky note. The two of you laughed quietly.

Some time after that, your roommate declared that they wanted to start getting fit.

“You’re literally saying that as you’re finishing a whole tub of ice cream,” you said, laughing.

Your roommate dropped the tub and stood up with their fist raised.

“We are going to the gym, right now!”

With no escape, you followed your friend to the campus gym and signed up for a membership. As you were doing so, you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t want to! Why do we all have to sign up? This is so annoying.”

Jinhwan?

As you turned around, your suspicions were confirmed. He was being pushed by his roommates, your other program seniors, towards the front desk which you were stood at, and he was whining loudly like a baby.

“Oh, it’s [y/n]!” one of the seniors, named Junhoe, who was pushing him said. Upon hearing your name, Jinhwan stood up straight and laughed awkwardly, waving hello.

“[y/n], we all promised we would sign up for the gym since our program’s marathon is coming up and this fool,” Hanbin, another senior, said while pointing to Jinhwan, “signed us up for it. But now he doesn’t want to work out with us!”

You laughed. How cute, you thought.

Jinhwan stood there, scratching the back of his head.

“Actually, my roommate is making me sign up, too. So I guess we’re in the same boat!”

“See, if [y/n] can do it then so can you!” Bobby, another senior, said.

With both of you being forced to sign up, you made your way into the gym. Your roommate dragged you aside for a second.

“Who’s Jinhwan and how do you know him and-”

“He’s my senior,” you said, cutting your roommate off before they asked too many questions.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Your roommate analyzed your face.

“Are you sure?” they asked, narrowing their eyes.

“Yes!” you screamed. Jinhwan and his friends all looked at you and you pressed your lips together out of embarrassment.

“Look what you made me do!” you said to your roommate, who was walking ahead while laughing loudly.

When the marathon that only the upper years were supposed to participate in finally rolled around, you stood at the finish line, handing out water to everyone who finished. The marathon was to raise money for your program, since it was not funded so well.

You cheered all of your seniors on under the hot sun, fanning yourself to try to cool down. I could just... take one water bottle... no! It’s for the seniors and we don’t have enough!

As you struggled to decide between drinking one of the waters secretly or leaving them for your seniors, a sweaty Jinhwan finally crossed the finish line.

He looked extremely tired, so you grabbed a bottle of water and a towel before running up to him.

“You did it! Good job!” you said, handing him the supplies that you had grabbed.

He was bent over with his hands on his knees, but straightened up to take the water from your hands. But he hesitated before handing it back to you.

“It’s fine, you should drink it,” he panted. He reached for a hat that he had managed to tie to his waist, and handed that to you, too.

“You should wear a hat in this weather! Be careful,” he said, placing the cap on your head before walking away. Confused, you trailed back to the water station that you were stood at.

“Didn’t he give you the water? Drink it then! And give me some too!” your friend, who was also manning the water station with you, said.

You watched Jinhwan as he lay sprawled out in the grass.

This won’t do.

Handing the bottle to your friend, you ran towards the closest building in search of a vending machine. Finding one, you bought a water and ran back to hand it to Jinhwan, who was still sprawled out in the grass.

Panting, you crashed on the grass next to him and handed him the bottle. He sat up, eyeing it,

“But I just gave my water to you-”

“Drink it!” you said breathlessly before lying down in the grass next to him.

You heard him taking big gulps before he also laid down next to you and right then in that moment, you asked yourself why you ran for ten minutes just to buy bottled water for Jinhwan.

When you looked up at him and watched the sun light up his face, showing his skin sticky with sweat and his hair a mess, you felt like something was welling up inside you.

You liked Jinhwan.

During finals week, you vowed that you were going to sit in the same library cubicle for the entire week to study. No leaving. No getting distracted. You would only leave to use the washroom, wash your face, take a shower, eat or brush your teeth. Otherwise, you were sleeping in there.

Intense, but you needed to do what you had to do to study.

Your exams were later than everyone else’s, so while everyone else was enjoying their Winter break, you were still studying.

Thud.

You looked up after you had buried your head in your books to find your favourite vending machine drink sitting next to your laptop. Confused and wondering if this was a hallucination, you looked around for who might have left it there.

“Boo!” Jinhwan said from the cubicle next to you.

You jumped up in fright, yelling at him for scaring you.

Then you got scolded by a librarian and Jinhwan laughed.

“Seriously, I’m doing some major studying right now! No distractions!” you told Jinhwan.

“Is that your way of saying thanks?”

“Thank you,” you groaned.

“You’re really something. I’ve never studied this hard for my exams,” Jinhwan said.

“Well that’s your problem, not mine!” you said, sticking out your tongue at him.

Since your first encounter, you had been seeing Jinhwan more often around campus and felt a lot more comfortable around him.

“What? Is that how you treat your senior?” Jinhwan joked. “Anyway, I’m here to wish you good luck! And remind you to take breaks. Speaking of which, do you wanna go grab ice cream? Go for a walk?”

“Go for a walk? Am I your dog?” you scoffed.

Jinhwan sighed.

“You know what I mean!”

You ended up leaving your cubicle for an hour to walk through campus with Jinhwan. The night air was cold but refreshing, and there was something calming about the empty campus with the few streetlights lighting the way. You almost tripped and fell onto Jinhwan a few times because it was so dark, but each time he caught you and giggled softly in a way that made you want to squeal because he was so. damn. cute.

A year later

“IT’S READING WEEK!” your roommate yelled as they packed their suit case.

“Yay,” you said, quietly.

“Yay? We’re going home! What is this sad reaction?”

“Going home means a week without Jinhwan...”

Your roommate groaned.

“Are you kidding me? You went a whole summer break without him, what is this?

“Yeah, and it was terrible!” you said.

“You two need to stop beating around the bush and start dating already.”

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” you yelled.

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? It’s been two years of you liking each other! Just kiss, jeez!”

“This is a sad unrequited love and you cannot convince me otherwise.”

“[y/n]... I’m not even gonna bother. I’m done. I’m not gonna say anything!” your roommate said, walking to the bathroom.

Two seconds later, they walked back in.

“DO YOU NOT SEE the way this man looks at you? He’s always so nice to you and for what? You’re not a freshman anymore!”

“We’re friends!”

“This is pathetic! I’m gonna have to get the ball rolling myself,” your friend said, grabbing your phone.

Their grip was too strong, so you only got a hold of your phone after they let go. Your messages app was open. Your chat with Jinhwan was open. Oh no.

Jinhwan! do u want to stay at my house for reading week? :)

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” you yelled, throwing a pillow at your roommate who laughed in response.

“I’m doing God’s work!”

Your phone vibrated and your heart raced.

really? i’d love to! my family wanted me to help out with home renovations T.T and i’d rather spend reading week with u~

“He agreed,” you said, surprised. “HE AGREED!”

“And this is my house,” you said, opening the door and letting Jinhwan enter first.

“Woah,” he said, looking around.

“There isn’t much, really...”

“I wanna see your room,” Jinhwan said, kicking off his shoes and immediately walking upstairs.

“Wait!” you said, running after him.

“I can really tell which one is yours,” he said, chuckling as he found your room.

As he looked around, you felt super embarrassed, so you told him that you would be downstairs unpacking.

A few minutes later, Jinhwan walked up to you downstairs, holding something in his hand. His face was red and there was a smile on his face.

“[y/n], please explain this,” he said, handing you what he was holding.

It was your journal.

And it was opened to a page where you had written about your feeling for Jinhwan.

You had forgotten all about this.

Oh no.

You had written all about your first encounter and the late night ice cream, the time he helped you find books at the library, the time you awkwardly met at the gym, the time you ran for 10 minutes just to buy water for him from a vending machine and how you realized your feelings for him then, and the time he came to visit while you were studying.

The last sentence was: He’s literally the most perfect human alive and honestly I’m so glad I’ve even met him; I like him a lot.

When you finished reading it, you closed it and walked away from where you had been standing in the living room to the kitchen, trying to process everything.

With your back turned, you said, “Jinhwan, just forget you ever read that, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Let’s just be friends still, okay? Please just forget about that...”

You were close to crying with how embarrassed you felt. You didn’t want your friendship to be ruined because of this.

“Are you sure you want me to forget about it?” Jinhwan asked you.

“Yes, please.”

“Even when I feel the same way?”

Now there was something that you did not expect. You could not have predicted this.

“What?” you asked, turning around to face him out of shock.

“I like you too, [y/n]. Do you want to forget about it?” he said, smiling the same smile he did on that first day when you were eating ice cream together at midnight.

“No, I... need time to process this...”

“Am I allowed to hug you, though?” Jinhwan asked, opening his arms. When you nodded, he moved towards you and wrapped his arms around you, placing his head into your shoulder. It was a hug that was so full of love, you felt like you were melting on the spot.

“You know I did all of those things because I like you, right? Helping you at the library and checking on you when you studied.. I didn’t know at the time, but I found out later... that I like you.”

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hobiwonder · 4 years

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Adventures of a closeted exhibitionist | 01 (m)

Pairing: hoseok x reader, f2l (future)

Genre: do i ever write anything other than smut

Words: 3k

Warnings: exhibitionism lol, hoseok is a FREAK freak, oral (f receiving), dirty talk.

Summary: where hoseok explores with his bff. i hope u like it pls validate me.

a/n: this is an idea I pitched to @parkmuse and she n i were going to collab but then she got a cat and DITCHED ME (jeepers is v cute ngl). so instead of a full length one shot, im gunna make this a series. like a small one lol. this is unedited beyond microsoft putting the annoying red lines to tell me im illiterate.

It was roughly 9pm. Despite it being a Friday night, there were a fair few people still drifting about in the 24 hour library. This time of the semester being closer to the exam time you guess this isn’t such an atypical incidence. What was rare though, was you being here. On a Friday night. Where you’re usually getting shit-faced with your friends at Park Jimin’s weekly parties. Not here with your best friend Hoseok – who frequented the place more than you, actually – about to have sex with him. Yup. You heard right.

“Can you walk faster y/n? We’ll lose our spot!” His hurried whisper didn’t do much to mask and the nervous tremble in his voice. It was obvious your best friend wasn’t very adventurous and thus here you were, helping him out.

Slightly regretting your decision. This place was more crowded than you thought. You run forward to catch up with Hoseok’s long legs that kept weaving through the massive bookshelves with ease. Whereas if you were here by yourself – you’d certainly be lost.

“We won’t with the speed you are walking. Slow down, Hoseok.” Grumbling under your breath as you see no sign of him stopping to let you remember the way you guys had come to this part of the quiet library, you just opt to following him around like a lost puppy. Usually it’s the other way around.

Especially when Hoseok had asked you one day to try public sex with him.

“Well well well, never knew my reclusive best friend was such an exhibitionist.” You’d been whistling and hooting while smirking his way, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly. He was never too confident in speaking about his sex life and watching him squirm was so much fun to the evil part of your brain. Not that he had much of a sex life to expose. Hosoek was a sweet boy who did relationships. Long term ones. And he hadn’t even been on a date recently.

“W-Well, I’m not. Not yet. I’ve never tried anything like that. And you obviously have.”

You’d just shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“So… I want to try something. With you.” Naturally, your response had been to blink repeatedly, making sure you heard him right.

“No fucking way, Josè.”

“Please, please, please?! I don’t trust anyone other than you to do this with and not be weird about it.”

“What about you get an actual girlfriend Hobi? Hm? Ever thought of that.” He’d rubbed his temple with a pout on his face when you’d mockingly knocked your fingers against it. How did he not see how attractive he was? He could get anyone. Literally anyone.

“I haven’t had luck in that department, you know that.” Him gritting his answer through his teeth is probably one of the most frustrated you’d seen him and it makes you snort.

“Then just find someone willing and fuck her at the party?” The crude words bring a blush to his pretty face. How does he even plan on having sex in public?

“You know I can’t do that.” Shaking his head, he turns back towards you, “Besides… I don’t want it to be just anywhere. I want to d-do this at the library.” Your eyes had bugged out of your head once again at that. How did you not know how kinky your best friend was?

“Oh my god.” You can’t help the giggles that fight their way through your throat, “I cannot believe it Hoseok! You’re such a closeted freak.” Now you were full on cackling.

“Stop. I just wanted to try something.” The pout was back on his face and the little glazed look he had in his eyes had diminished slightly.

“Yeah and public sex from the get go? What will you be ‘trying’ next? Pegging and Anal?”

His brows furrow adorably. “What’s pegging?”

“Oookay. Let’s just get back to the topic at hand.” You didn’t want to give him any more ideas. Yet.

Somehow in the next few hours, you’d agreed to sleep with your best friend. At a library at that.

And here you were, nestled in a corner at one of the desks that were set up between the isles for people who wanted to browse journals and other various literature. Where you both sat was relatively isolated. Only the people who occasionally walked past the isles would be able to see two people sitting at a table – the table shielding your lower halves of the body – and only if they looked. The table was set against one of the isles and that would probably be the only concerning area. That someone on the other side of that shelf would be able to decipher what was going on. Okay maybe this was making you rethink your decision. Just a little.

“So, what do you think?” Hoseok was panting slightly as he looked around you both repeatedly, making sure no one was lingering on the fact that two students had disappeared off to a section that they could do more than study in. But you couldn’t see anything of the sort. Just everyone minding their own business for now. Besides, how loud could you both be anyway? This shouldn’t take too long.

“Pretty good. You must come here a lot to know such a precise spot?” Brows wagging teasingly in his direction, making his cheeks flare up even more.

“I do. But to study usually so this feels a bit… exhilarating.” His face tells you how excited he is but he is definitely nervous as well if the sweating is anything to go by.

You bump your shoulder slightly with his to ease his worries. “Hey, don’t sweat it. Literally.” You can’t help the laugh that he then tries to muffle with his hand. “No really! I’m very good at quickies.”

Your wink makes him blush but he still seems apprehensive. “It’s not that… I’m. Well. I-I can kind of lose control sometimes.”

You continue to deadpan him. Hoseok and losing control? Were you hearing correctly? Your sweet, nerdy, studious, calm and collected, shy best friend losing control? It can’t be that bad, right?

“I’m serious y/n. B-But I’ll try to keep in check.”

“…Okay. Anyway. You ready?” There is a moment of silence and it is quiet. You can hear when Hoseok swallows, the way he drags his gaze all over your coat cladded form and then finally, looks into your eyes. You never noticed how attractive Hoseok was up-close and that was what was making you nervous.

“I-I think so? How are we going to do this? Shit I didn’t think about the logistics through before coming here.” Hoseok had started to nervous ramble so you decided to take matters into your hand by sitting directly on his lap, facing him.

“W-Wha…. Is this how we’re- Wouldn’t that look too suspicious.” You tried not to roll your eyes.

“We’re about to screw in a library surrounded by people. Anything we do will make us look like horny college kids. At least this way if someone catches us people will think we’re only making out or something.”

Hoseok’s pretty mouth falls open in an ‘o’ understanding your reasoning. The law library is more dimly lit compared to others so it was easier to fly under the radar. It was obvious that Hoseok had brought you here to take full advantage of that. If Hoseok tends to lose control as he's said, it shouldn't attract too much attention even if he's a tad too loud. Wait, is it even about his volume?

Leaning down you level your face to his baby browns while he leans back as if you're infectious and not about to have sex, "What do you mean about lose control by the way? You're not going to scream up a storm are you? I swear to god Hoseok if you get us arrested-"

"It's not me you should be worried about," the reply comes without any stutters unlike how he spoke before, making your breath hitch. He's calm and collected, gaze slithering down your body like you were an otherworldly marvel.

This was not how you'd seen your best friend act in all the years you'd known him. Never have you felt this attracted to your usually shy, meek friend who seemed to be the most quaint person in your group of friends. Perhaps that's why you'd never really sexualised him before. Though it did always baffle you how he managed to date the prettiest girls.

"Okay weirdo."

The tremble in your voice is barely masked but you try and regain some of your composure by aggressively adjusting and slipping down your panties to mid thigh. Effectively breaking Hoseok's bravado when he audibly gulps, looking around him. It doesn't take long for you to feel the effects of your activities as Hoseok already feels considerably solid underneath you. A flush of embarrassment evident in your cheeks when he rubs the damp material of your panties between his index finger and thumb.

"You're so wet, y/n." The skin of your naked thighs covered in goosebumps with each carrels of Hoseok's veiny hands. When did they get so callous? The feeling brought another embarrassing amount of wetness down your thighs.

"S-Sorry." You shook your own head at your apology. Why did you say sorry? Guys love that, you knew.

Somehow, it felt different with Hoseok. You were being a lot more conscious about his likes and dislikes instead of your own. Which should've been a red flag. Yet, you continued with the dangerous game you were both playing. The perspiration on Hoseok's forehead gave away how affected he was as well despite the cool temperature inside the library.

"Are you kidding? I've... I've never been this turned on in my whole life."

You don't get a chance to respond, only garbled gasps when his cool fingers slip between your thighs, massaging the slick in the sensitive skin that connected your inner thighs to your pussy.

"H-Hoseok." His thumbs spread the wetness from your nether lips back to the sensitive patch of skin.

"Is this okay?" You're too caught up in the heat of the moment and the thousands of nerve endings that Hoseok's fingers were stimulating.

Your head was lolling around like you were drunk and that was enough indication for him to carry on. It was terrifying how little he had done and you were already lacking the ability to comprehend anything other than his touch. Your hands were dropping beneath you carelessly, trying to find the hard length that was persistently pressing in you. You were turned on beyond belief and you needed to feel Hoseok inside you. Now.

Hoseok had other plans.

"Slow down, y/n." His chuckle is breezy, albeit a little throatier than usual. But it doesn't stop your quest to get your hands inside his pants.

"Hoseok I need you to get inside me." Your plan to be stern backfires.

You had hoped that telling Hoseok you meant business would get him to submit to you like it usually does. However, the heady look in his eyes tells you otherwise. You're proven wrong when instead, Hoseok locks his eyes with yours, as if challenging the autonomy you had in this situation. You're unable to move, just feel as the plunge of his nimble fingers inside you has you gripping his shoulders for a lifeline. Your head was already mushy and all basic comprehension had gone out the door. The sounds accompanying each agonising push and pull extremely erotic, making the blush bloom deeper on your already heated skin.

The onslaught of sensations had made it easy to forget about the world around you. If someone was to catch you right now, you weren't sure if you would let Hoseok stop the delicious friction inside you. The way he looked at his fingers sliding their rhythm inside you, completely entranced by your body, made another gush of wetness flow down his thrusting digits. He had barely fingered you for five minutes and you were already like a full damn ready to burst. Hoseok finally looked up when the scissoring motion of his fingers made you gasp loud enough to startle him.

it was getting increasingly difficult to keep your volume down. Now you knew why Hoseok had redirected the question about being quiet, to you. His other hands wrapped around your hips, just above the dip in your spine to keep you from thrashing off his lap. You were at the point where your body was so close that every thrust of his wrist bordered on pushing you over the edge. Body moving towards the movement and away from it in the same second.

“I don’t think I want that just yet.” His lips shone from the constant contact with his tongue.

Maybe he was giving you a tongue show on purpose. To be even more cruel when you were already suffering (in the best way possible). Hoseok was always mischievous. Not as obvious as your other friends like Taehyung or Jungkook. And you were finding out just how devious he is. Dragging on the assault on your pussy. Stretching the thread until you’re clawing your hands down his back, whispering ‘please’ like a symphony.

“You like this?”

“Y-Yes Hoseok. Please just f-fuck me already.” Your threatening growl only makes him smirk and fasten the pace of the three fingers inside you.

“I really wanna watch you squirt y/n. With all these people just a few feet away. Can you do that for me?”

His whispers near your ear makes you flinch away with each word. Body so sensitive to any form of stimulation that you were scared you were going to cum just from listening to the low timbre of his voice. Hoseok’s eyes were glazed over, the hard insistent bulge was digging in your thighs with even more ferocity. Yet, he denied himself the pleasure you were so readily offering. Why was he torturing the both of you like this, ugh.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the table behind you, making you grasp the wooden edges in order to brace yourself. However, the action left you exposed, skirt pushed up enough to reveal Hoseok’s hands rhythmically pushing forward and backwards. The open position of your thighs and the air now touching your heated skin making you feel everything just a bit more. His fingers were hitting the spongy spot on the top of your walls just right that you’re whimpering and clenching your hands around the wood, just not the type you wanted to be holding.

“F-Fuck Hoseok if w-we get caught p-people-”

“Will see your cunt swallowing my fingers? I know y/n.” His smile is devilish. He’s reveling in your fear of being found out and you know this is exactly what his fantasy is.

Your breathing is harsh and you’re bordering on being a little too loud. It becomes even more of a problem when you start feeling the zaps of pleasure in your core that are hurtling you towards completion. Hoseok’s angled fingers repeat the motions that elicited the response when he sees you thrashing.

“Right there huh? That feel good?”

You can’t speak. Biting so hard on your lip, trying to not scream blooding murder, that tears are pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision. The strength in your arms leaves as you collapse on the table, head pushing back and one hand going to hold the one almost fisting inside you. You’re so close you can almost taste it. Everything is too much and it’s an impossible feat to stay quiet and inconspicuous.

“God, you’re being so loud. If you’re any louder people will hear you cumming all the way from outside.” And yet he doesn’t sound concerned.

Hoseok’s eyes are feral, watching you hold on to his hand while his wrist is snapping powerfully towards that one spot that has you seeing spots. You’re moaning even louder now and he has to get up from his seat to put his other hand around your mouth to drown out your sounds that are going straight to his dick. God, you were so sexy he was going to cum in his pants from just watching the tears roll down the side of your face.

“Yeah? You’re gunna cum baby? Squirt all over my fingers?”

He wasn’t expecting a response from you with how fucked out you were but your eyes peering into his let him know that you heard him. And that you were going to cum. Hoseok slips his thumb up to your clit, rolling it in tandem with his deep thrusts and within seconds, you’re screaming out your orgasm. Your cunt grabbing his fingers like a vice but Hoseok is still dragging his digits along your walls to prolong the pleasure. His whole hand is thoroughly wet because you indeed, squirted like he asked.

It’s hard to comprehend if what you experienced was a fever dream or you actually blacked out for a few seconds because of how hard you came. You’re still breathing hard and you feel hoseok’s hand ease around your mouth. He’s pressing kisses along your decolletage, fingers till lazily moving inside you until you’re pushing them away.

“That was so hot. Thank you y/n, you’re the best.” You were getting whiplash from how he’d turned back into his sickly sweet self when he was just giving you the best orgasm of your life a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, w-well, I may not be able to walk out of here.” you can’t quite look him in the eyes yet. Not when he’d just fucked your brains out and real fucking was about to come.

“Don’t worry, I think you’ve had enough today so that’s for next time.” He smiles his 1000 watt smile at you before sucking the wetness off his fingers. Your face is so red you might pass out.

Next time?

#bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #btsghostiewritersnet #hobiwonder #pls tell me ur thots xx

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hellishvu · 5 years

Text

Imagine BTS: when you have a nipple piercing (sfw)

— thank u for requesting!! also since last imagine i didn’t rlly like *__* i feel like i could’ve done better so enjoy these very longer and better thought out ideas ! also i feel like i should say this, guys have nipple piercings, they don’t need breasts to have one, so none of these stories are meant you have breasts. if that made any sense (@_@) also i don’t know if your still reading this but i literally love my profile picture because that’s literally me writing these stories CKSK

Kim Namjoon: ˚✧₊⁎

Namjoon was in college, nose stuck in his textbooks till he had seen you in the hall. You leaning against the wall hearing your music looking rather confused of where to go. Namjoon walked up to you, poking your shoulder jumping when you turned around.

“Are you lost?” Namjoon asks while you chuckle.

“Does it look that obvious?” You gripped your backpack walking with Namjoon when he offered he could help you.

You two spent time together and decided to meet up for lunch so he doesn’t sit alone. Sharing names along the way to class. Of course he wanted to share lunch with the cute guy named Y/N, he waves a goodbye to you before entering your brand new class. Namjoon nodded trying to get himself together before walking back to his own class. Entering the room he sees his best friend Jimin looking around for him. Jimin widens his eyes waving at Namjoon with his glasses on. I guess Namjoon accepts the fact they both look like cliches of a college movie that is rated-14. Namjoon sat down next to Jimin sighing into his bullet journal.

“What is it Joon? You seem flustered.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows seeing Namjoon lift up his head, the hairs dangling in front of his face.

“Cute boys are going to be the death of me.”

“You say cute? In this school? That’s rare.” Jimin scoots his chair closer to Namjoon wanting all the details. Namjoon explained maybe he over-exaggerated some details about your starry eyes and your perfect hair and how he came to your rescue.

“And you’re going to survive while he’s sitting with us at lunch?” Jimin chuckled while Namjoon gave him an annoyed look.

Lunch came by fast and when Namjoon was patiently sitting at the corner of the lunch room, looking around trying to see the beautiful boy once again. Jimin teasing him by saying “He’s over there!” Knowing Namjoon will turn his head at the speed of light to see no one.

You came walking in, your shirt soaked by the cooking class you decided to help with. Ending up with a classmate accidentally spilling jam all over your shirt. A great first impression indeed with many of your (new) classmates.

“Oh god he’s actually over there.” Jimin pointed, while Namjoon pushes his arm down. Seeing you walk with a hunched back not wanting the jam to touch your skin.

“Now I know why you have a crush on him.” Jimin winked at Namjoon. Namjoon shushing Jimin before he talks one more word.

“H-Hey guys haha.” You said trying to explain yourself by pointing at your now stained shirts.

“Do you guys have an extra shirt? Tried helping the cooking class... didn’t end so great.”

“Uh yeah, I do. Name’s Jimin by the way.” Jimin pulls out a plain grey shirt. You smiling at him and Namjoon.

“Thank you Jimin. Well I’m going to go change in the bathroom so I’ll be back.” You wave walking away finding the bathroom.

“Wait do you need to find the nearest bathroom? You’re still new and I could help you.” Namjoon stands up, chest puffed out before realizing going back to slouching.

Namjoon looks back to see Jimin covering his face from laughing,he waves at Jimin to stop. Jimin immediately pulls out his phone texting Namjoon instantly.

“Uh Namjoon.” You call out from the stall, seeing that the shirt that Jimin gave you doesn’t fit. You took off the shirt being shirtless, Namjoon turning around seeing your nipple piercing. Namjoon widen his eyes seeing the metal shiny thing through such a sensitive area.

Kim Seokjin: ˚✧₊⁎

Seokjin wanted to watch the perimeter of the pod but it was just an excuse to have some time alone from all the spotlight. Seokjin was in the next line of royalty. The merman was raised in the expectation of modesty and good. So never in million years of his fish life will he think he’ll meet you.

Seokjin leaned on a rock watching till he spotted a male walking the ocean naked slowly emerging in the water. Seokjin dives in the water trying to catch the male before he goes too far. His peach tail flowing with the water, till he sings in the water to stop the male from going any farther.

“Who are you? What are you doing in the pod of these waters?” Seokjin asks seeing the male cover his ears.

“Jesus I’ll tell you just stop the song.” The male raises his hands up, his body being shown more when Seokjin gasps the nipple piercing shown in all it’s glory.

See the thing is, body modification was seen as only delinquents getting them. People that have betrayed the pod have piercings or tattoos. The stigma only grew by centuries. Seokjin was taught at such a young age that going on land was betrayal to the whole family and getting even a small tattoo was seen as unforgettable.

“How did you get that? How are you still swimming in our waters?” Seokjin floats towards you seeing your tattoos and piercings, admiring them but the angel on his shoulder is saying “Get away.”

“On land. Was hell trying not to get dried up like a sunflower seed but you know I managed.” You lifted your hand from the water letting Seokjin see more of your tattoos.

“How can I believe you?”

“Well I would like you to. That would be nice.” You smiled seeing Seokjin lower his head deeper in the water trying to hide his red ears.

“Gosh I shouldn’t even be talking to you. If my dad sees us he’ll abandon me.” Seokjin lifts his head up brushing the hair out of the way of his face, you sighed knowing how it feels to be in his spot.

“What if there was a group that could be your family, that really don’t give a fuck about these so called rules?” You offered knowing that the group will probably yell at you for inviting a complete stranger but you saw potential.

“They are a small group of 7 including me, Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. We explore out of water but we always know our roots of the water.” You explain showing him a photo that you hold in a necklace, all of them doing poses. Seokjin smiles seeing they all looked so free.

“Plus we can get matching nipple piercings.” Seokjin splashes you, you saw a genuine smile on his face and who knows when was the last time he did.

Seokjin heard swimming knowing it all too well of his father, Seokjin pushes you to hide not wanting to get caught or worse you become a victim of the box of rules. Seokjin’s father rises giving an rather disgusted look to him.

“Son what are you doing here? Leave these for the peasants.” Seokjin fakes a smile shooing his father to show he’s going.

“Show me where you are, show me the land world. I want to know.” Seokjin whispers embracing you, you being shocked from his embrace. You grinned nodding grabbing his hand swimming away from whatever hell is going to be left behind.

Min Yoongi: ˚✧₊⁎

Yoongi maybe was feeling risky tonight, it’s not like the boys made him go out for once instead of staying inside of his studio. Yoongi bought out his old cap, seeing he looks damn good in cap. Yoongi snickers out posing and checking himself out.

Yoongi walks to his crew, whistling as he walks out causing him to push them off the couch so they can go. He walks in the car with them wondering if he’ll find anyone interesting to talk about life or whatever comes to mind.

Yoongi walks in the club, looking around to find the bar. He didn’t want to get wasted just wanted something to get him a bit tipsy. He sighed into the bar stool seeing all his friends almost black out already. Yoongi got up with his drink in his hand walking towards a more secret place till he was pushed into a male.

“Ah what the fuck?” Yoongi whispers feeling the collision. You put your hands up not wanting to think the male that ran into you that you were trying to play any games.

“Sorry bro! I didn’t mean— free drinks?! Hell yeah!” The drunk got distracted by the party lights and the call for free drinks not even finishing the apology making Yoongi regret his life choices.

Yoongi still presses against the male feeling a piece of metal through the shirt the male wore. He grabbed at it thinking it was some random piece of trash.

“Ow, don’t pull on it!” You winced in pain, Yoongi backing away thinking he actually hurt you.

“Yes, I have a nipple piercing and you pulling on it hurts a bit.” You raised your drink up.

“A what?”

“Nipple piercing, metal spear I like to call it.. it sounds cooler.” You barely could hear Yoongi’s chuckle behind the loud music. You tried to signal him if he wanted to leave so you could hear him. He followed you out, walking down the city streets.

“So what do you do?” You asked hands in your pockets looking at Yoongi quirking an eyebrow.

“A rapper, my band was in the club but getting drunk isn’t necessarily my thing.”

“Question for you though, how did you decide to get a nipple piercing.” Yoongi points at your piercing being careful to not pull on it this time.

“What is it bad?”

“No it’s a huge turn on but I was just wondering.”

“You know you only live life once.” You chuckled at your own answer as you see Yoongi cringe at your answer.

“Don’t know what’s worse getting it because you got drunk one time or that answer.”

“Okay answer this question, why did you decide to pull on it!?” You crossed your hands waiting for the cross walk to clear. Yoongi looked around pretending to not hear your question. You both crossed the street, pulling Yoongi’s hand to start walking.

“This is my stop.” You said pointing at the place you called home. Yoongi looked back at you wondering if he should get your number. What could be an reasonable excuse?

“Hey, uh I can give you my number so we could go out— like for lunch! Like an apology for pulling on your piercing.” Yoongi pulled out his phone seeing the contact screen. You pulled your phone out giving it to him. Yoongi gave it back before he saw you walk off your figure disappearing slowly.

Jung Hoseok: ˚✧₊⁎

Hoseok was an apprentice in his new found job, Yoongi being his boss along side Jungkook. He loves it seeing all kinds of people come in some making biggest regrets in their life to the smiling ones thanking them for making it possibly. Hoseok was a good looking guy, but he focused on his job. All of the flirting came with just a smile from Hoseok.

Hoseok was mid tattoo looking up seeing a male come in. Hoseok drooled almost immediately but snapped out of it by the buzzing of the tattoo machine. He went back to focusing on the tattoo ease dropping at the front desk.

“Hey Y/N, I’m glad you’re back. Finally I can stop hearing Yoongi say he misses you.”

“Misses? Are they dating?”

“Hoseok if you don’t mind could I take a break for today?” The client on the table asks, Hoseok nodding giving a reassuring smile.

“Yeah I just came back to get something on my back.” Hoseok hears when he stands up to stretch from sitting and leaning for so long. You got called back from Yoongi waving at Hoseok before meeting up to see what you could get.

“Holy shit, who’s that?” Hoseok asked the front desk recording the stocks. Hoseok looked at him seeing the head rise.

“Y/N, he comes here often. He’s a good friend of Yoongi’s so don’t piss him off.”

“Friends? They aren’t dating?”

“Did I say they were? Yoongi is just needy for his hand being held.” The clerk laughed Hoseok walking in the back seeing you up close and personal.

“Hoseok meet Y/N my best friend.”

“Hey Hoseok nice to meet you.” You offered him a hand shake, Hoseok nodding returning not without a little bit of awkwardness in it.

“Are you going to do his tattoo or do you think I could?” Hoseok clasped his hands together begging for this opportunity, his apprenticeship was full of adventures but this one seems so intriguing.

“You?” Yoongi quirks an eyebrow seeing Hoseok nod. Yoongi looked at you seeing if it was approved.

“Yeah let the guy learn Yoongi. I’ll be his practice ring.” You winked at him, making him red. Yoongi shrugged giving the designs and ideas of Hoseok. Of course the tattoo would be moderated by Yoongi.

“So is this how you want it?” Hoseok asks showing a final sketch of your tattoo. You looked at it analyzing his art style seeing if it matches your personality.

“Hoseok you did a great job.” You looked up seeing Hoseok jump with joy wanting to get working on it right away.

You two got up, you taking off your shirt seeing Hoseok blink cluelessly a couple time trying to see if he was on drugs or not. You had a nipple piercing and Hoseok was going to lose his mind a second.

“Take a photo it will last longer.” You grinned laying down making yourself comfortable on the chair that you’ve known for so long.

“I wasn’t looking at that.. just looking at where to put the stencil.” Hoseok awkwardly chuckles before putting on his gloves.

“Sure Hoseok, I’m sure you weren’t looking.” You chuckled. Hoseok knowing this was going to be... a long tattoo session.

Park Jimin: ˚✧₊⁎

Jimin has seen the recent news, you had a nipple piercing and since you were dating you got some spotlight too. Of course Jimin told you about it and he felt bad that he had to put yourself in a situation of star fame that not everyone can handle. So when you were seen walking out of a store with a white shirt on, the wind blowing very heavily that morning your piercing was shown... to the whole world to be exact.

Headlines, news articles, and the army especially went crazy. You didn’t check social media often but when you finally did your whole inbox was filled from the brim of asking about your nipple piercing. Some questions were innocent and asking if it hurt while others asked if Jimin has done anything with it. Those you had ignored for the greater good in life.

Jimin on the other hand was shocked to see one of his members Seokjin showing him the photo. He’s never seen you topless due to you not living together so this piercing was something new about you. If he had one thing about it, it was that he was damn curious to see it in real life. The real question was how could he when asking someone to just lift up their shirt was awkward enough.

“So I’m guessing you’ve heard the news?” You asked sitting in the rooftop of your home. Jimin joining along seeing the sunrise like you two are teenagers in highschool.

“What?” Jimin acted stupid only for the reason to not make you mad, maybe you didn’t like that part of you was revealed to everyone in the entire world.

“The nipple piercing.” You said showing the articles to him, Jimin acted surprised but you could sense it in yourself that he was acting. You snickered pulling his ear.

“Don’t act stupid Jimin. I’m sure the boys went crazy over it.” Jimin raises his head looking at you before cracking a giggle.

“Trust me I’m not mad. It was bound to happen anyway.” You placed a kiss on his forehead getting up from the rooftop getting back inside.

“You coming?” You offered your hand to help Jimin in. He nods taking your hand to cuddle in your bedroom. The room being dimmed expect for the tv showing some random sic-com.

“But you’re going to have to catch me shirtless to see it.” You whispered in his ear when he was in your arms. Jimin looking up to you, pouting that he couldn’t just see it.

“Ugh really? Can’t you just take off your shirt right now?” Jimin lifted your shirt slowly at first you tried to lift it down before just accepting it. Jimin saw the metal piercing right in front of his eyes, Jimin looked at it and then back at you.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as it sounds like.” You rub his hair, Jimin lifting the shirt down before going back to cuddling with you.

“What do you think about it?” You asked wanting Jimin’s approval more then anything. You didn’t care about the media or the comments on it. As long as Jimin didn’t find it horrifying that was alright in your book.

“I find it... extremely... attractive.” Jimin places a kiss on your lips making sure his hands doesn’t press on the piercing. You smiled in the kiss placing your hands on his back.

Kim Taehyung: ˚✧₊⁎

Taehyung once he saw it, he had no problem with it. It was so cute and pretty, that he grew entranced of it. When you two went swimming he couldn’t keep his eyes off of it. So when one day he decided to suggest a idea that made you question his insanity.

“So I was thinking, you know your nipple piercing.”

“Yes that you love too much that it concerns me.” You chuckle seeing him frown at you, from the teasing.

“Yes! I like to appreciate art aka my boyfriend not my fault. What I was thinking was that I picked your new piercing metal thing.” Taehyung lens you his phone seeing many photos of different type of jewelry.

“I do get bored with the normal studs.” You nodded seeing Taehyung’s eyes glow. You choke him playfully as he whines.

“It’s like you like my piercing more than me!” You let him go standing up covering your nipples teasing him. Taehyung sat on the couch laying down waiting for the day.

You two walk in the normal piercing/tattoo shop you usually go to. It’s local and their prices are reasonable. They know you so they poke fun when you walk in. Taehyung seeing the large rich red walls filled with tattoo designs.

“Hey Y/N! Is he getting a nip piercing too?” Your very well known friend, Jungkook laughs seeing Taehyung hide behind you. You tell Taehyung to brush him off that he’s just an asshole sometimes but he means no harm.

“He isn’t Kook. I’m here to replace my stud for something else. I would do it at home but that is terrifying. Plus you’re my best friend so..” You pat Jungkook on the back giving him a “please” look. Taehyung seeing you act around this friend, he hasn’t had the chance to meet them due to his focus on his work. You share stories catching up while Taehyung looks around seeing people getting tattoos of all sorts.

“Here’s our collection; pick whatever and I’ll help prince out with it. If the guy wants one I’ll do it also.” You thank him, looking at all the different jewelry. Taehyung pointing at some making you give him a questionable look.

“Oh! Chose this one! This one!” Taehyung points at a heart jewelry on that would have a heart around the actual nipple. You looked at the jewelry and back at Taehyung.

“A heart?”

“Yeah I’m the only one that’s going to see it anyway.” Taehyung winked, you nodding that he had a point. You called back Jungkook knowing he was going to make fun of you.

“A heart? How romantic.” Jungkook got the set up ready while you laid down holding hands with Taehyung.

“How much is a tattoo?” Taehyung asks while Jungkook was looking and examining your piercing making sure it wasn’t infected.

“Depends on the size, details, and color or not.” Jungkook says pulling out the jewelry before cleaning and sanitizing the area.

“But they are permanent, not like these bad boys. These can heal and eventually go away. So chose wisely my guy.” Jungkook puts the new jewelry causing you to look away wincing a little.

“Here is your new heart boyfriend.” Jungkook smiles as you slowly got up looking down. Taehyung hugging you that you actually trusted him with such a thing like this.

“I” You said before pointing at your heart piercing “You.” Making even Jungkook laugh, walking up to the cashier telling them the price.

Jeon Jungkook: ˚✧₊⁎

Jungkook first saw your nipple piercing when you two decided to take a shower together for the first time, he was shocked when he saw that shiny piece of metal on your chest. Jungkook touched it seeing if you wince from pain or not. In reality you found it very cute that he admired it so much. You put shampoo on top of head trying to get him to actually take a shower instead of staring at your piercing.

“I’ve heard you have always wanted a piercing.” You rubbed in the shampoo seeing Jungkook smile from being taken care of. You ran your hands through his hair, Jungkook nodding about your statement.

“Too scared. What if it get’s infected?” Jungkook pressed his forehead into your chest, seeing the pierce of metal up and personal.

“Well you basically have an expert here. Plus I think it would suit you well.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Just think about it Kook.” You pressed a kiss on his forehead continuing to shower.

“So I have been thinking about it..” Jungkook says while in your lap two weeks later of going back and forth watching videos of professional advice, contacting his company seeing that this piercing can match the next concept of the album fighting through them was difficult but he got the okay.

So that means it was just time to walk in and get it, no hesitation should be happening right? While that ended quickly when he watched videos of lip piercings the first few times he looked away once they actually punctured the lip.

“Did it hurt?” Jungkook plops himself on the couch, you turning down the tv to hear him more clearly.

“What?” You turn your body towards him, Jungkook pointing at your nipple piercing. You awed understanding what he was asking.

“Uh I mean it depends on who you are. Your pain tolerance.” Jungkook nods in understand, wondering from all the times where he was in pain if he could handle it.

“Can you come with me? So you know— I don’t go getting the wrong piercing and I end up with a eyelid one?”

“Kook I’m sure you will know if they gave you an eyelid piercing but I will come anyway.” You pecked his cheek.

Once Jungkook got everything set up and got the actual piercing holding your hand tightly seeing the instrument get closer to his lip. Jungkook came home with you, he couldn’t stop staring at the piercing telling you that you two were now “Piercing soulmates.” Jungkook took a selfie sending it to you when you requested.

“Okay, it does look good I will admit that.” Jungkook giggles trying not to touch it, the cleaning steps on his lap. You would probably make sure he doesn’t mess around with it.

“I told you so. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Can we kiss?” Jungkook requests as he presses his lips together. You placed a finger on his lips nodding no.

“It will get infected wait till it heals in like 4-6 weeks.” You heard him whine knowing he’s going to wait for a kiss for so long.

“That’s the first thing I’m asking when it’s healed.”

“I’m sure you’ll cover me in kisses.”

#bts x male reader #bts #kpop x male reader #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts seokjin #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #bts hoseok

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you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus · 5 years

Text

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 14: Querencia

Word Count: 4570

Read on AO3

A soft pattering of rain tapped against Cyrus’ window, crescendoing and getting softer at random intervals. Cyrus was eventually made aware of this, but didn’t want to open his eyes. He felt warm, safe, and a little lethargic, so he wasn’t in the mood for moving. But once he opened his eyes, boy was he glad he did.

TJ, snoring softly, lips slightly parted, was mere inches away from him. He looked like an absolute angel, and Cyrus had to remind himself that staring was impolite. But he’s asleep, so how would he know? He took his hand out from under the covers, reaching out and brushing a lock of the other boy’s hair out of his face. It was soft, delicate, and Cyrus thought if he even breathed, he would shatter this moment. He wanted to be bold, to lean in a little and give him even a quick peck on his head, but that would be weird, right? Wanting to kiss your best friend?

He sighed, pushing off the covers with his legs and being careful not to wake TJ. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he felt a rush of blood from his head, shutting his eyes for a moment to regain his senses. Standing up, he tugged the covers to make sure that TJ was warm, grabbed his robe, and quietly padded down the stairs.

Leslie was already there, making breakfast when Cyrus arrived. “Morning,” he yawned, stretching his arms.

“Morning sweetie,” she greeted with a quick peck on his head, “how’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he mumbled through a bite of toast, “so, listen. I know this is going to sound weird, but TJ’s upstairs,” he started, “he came over last night, and, well,” he sighed, setting the food down, “he told his mom that he was gay, and he kind of left,”

Leslie seemed to reply with a sad smile. “That’s terrible. No child should ever have to go through that,” she murmured, putting a few more slices of bread into the toaster.

“And I sort of let him stay here overnight. . .and I’m not sure when he plans to go back, but, is it okay if he stays here for a while? I just, I wanna make sure he’s going to be safe before he goes back,”

Leslie smiled, buttering the toast and putting it on a plate. “Of course,” she agreed, handing the plate to Cyrus, “give him some breakfast, okay? Make sure he eats something,”

“I will, thanks,” he returned, climbing the stairs again. Entering the room, he saw that TJ was still asleep, so he set the plate on the nightstand, and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“TJ, wake up,” he whispered, gently nudging him awake. TJ groaned, mumbling in his sleep.

I love you too. You’re so cute.

Cyrus felt his cheeks go red hot. He’s dreaming, he reminded himself, touching his hands to his cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “TJ, c’mon, it’s time to get up,”

This time TJ reached his arms above his head, taking in a deep breath and puffing it out. His eyes fluttered open, revealing his brilliant green eyes once again. Cyrus really needed so have some self-control; soon he’d be getting lost in those eyes.

“Morning,” TJ mumbled, taking note of his surroundings, “wh-oh,” he remembered, a frown marking his face profoundly.

“I brought you breakfast,” Cyrus offered, handing him the toast.

TJ shook his head. “Not my meal. I’m not hungry,”

Cyrus persisted. “You are hungry, but you being upset is hindering that. Happens,” he explained, shoving the plate towards TJ, “just a few bites, please? I promise you’ll feel better,”

TJ scowled, tentatively holding the piece of bread that he thought would crumble before his very eyes with another touch. “Fine,” he grumbled, tearing off a piece and popping it in his mouth.

“So,” Cyrus started, flopping back onto the bed, “what should we do today? Probably can’t go to the park or anything, considering it’s been raining,”

“We can always invite people over and hang out as a group,” TJ suggested, finishing off his breakfast, “I don’t think we’ve hung out as a group in a while,”

Cyrus nodded in agreement, pulling out his phone and texting the groupchat.

journalism junkies

[cyrus: hey do u guys wanna come over at like 6 to hang out?]

“How are you feeling?” Cyrus asked, as if he was a doctor. He reached out, putting his hand on top of TJ’s, awakening a surge of butterflies trapped in his gut,

TJ shrugged, kicking the covers off. “Okay, as much as I can,” he admitted, trying to brush it off. He worried that he’d start crying all over again if he opened this wound again.

“You deserve the world, you know,” Cyrus mumbled, rubbing TJ’s hand with his thumb, “I’m really sorry about all this. My mom said that you could stay with us as long as you needed,”

TJ shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands; he really missed Cyrus’ touch in that moment. “I don’t want to impose on you guys,” he murmured bashfully, “I’ll go back really soon, I swear,”

Cyrus abruptly sat up, feeling the blood rush again; he had to stop doing that. “Are you insane? I’m not letting you go back until I know you’re going to be safe,” he said firmly, crossing his legs.

TJ waved him off, dismissing him as though he’d just apologized for bumping into him. “She’s not gonna hit me, Cy, I’ll be okay,” he promised him, but he didn’t mean the last part. I’ll be okay. Would he though? Not even he knew the answer to that.

“Okay, you’ll be fine physically, but what about emotionally? Teej, I don’t want you to have to suffer through living with her,” Cyrus worried, his teeth grazing his upper lip.

“I can’t just leave Amber alone,” he informed the other boy, shaking his head.

“Tell her she can come too,” Cyrus offered blindly, putting a hand on TJ’s shoulder,

TJ shook his head, placing his hand on top of Cyrus’. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t have you just taking us in. It’s not fair to you,” he pointed out. Cyrus looked hurt at that, but TJ knew it was the truth; he already felt guilty that Cyrus was being so generous and letting him stay for a little while, but having him help Amber too. . .the guilt would consume him whole.

Cyrus frowned, gingerly removing his hand from TJ’s touch, and letting it fall into his lap. “I just. . .I wish there was actually something I could do,” he whined, screwing his eyes shut.

TJ placed a hand on Cyrus’ arm, using his free hand to lift the other boy’s chin. “You are doing something. Just you existing is enough, you know. I can be me around you, and that’s more than I can say about anyone. You’re the only person I can talk to like this. You’re…Cyrus you’re everything to me,” TJ admitted, feeling like his body was being pulled towards Cyrus’. Try and explain that one, physics.

Cyrus started leaning in, and for a split second, TJ thought he was going to faint or wake up from a dream where things ended happily and romantically. Instead, Cyrus pulled him in for a hug, rubbing circles into his back. It still felt really nice, having someone here for him.

“You are my everything, you know that? Without you,” he pulled back, lacing his hands with TJ’s, “I don’t even know who I’d be,”

Hot, hot, hot, hot. Fire. Warm. Heat. TJ comprehended what Cyrus had said, but all he could focus on was the budding heat between them. It was like they were a match and a matchbox, lighting each other aflame whenever they were together.

[andi: i’m down and so is amber!]

[walker: im there]

[jonah: if walker is coming, i’ll def b there]

[marty: party time laid ease]

[buffy: hm fine]

Smiling at his phone, Cyrus shut it off again, putting it aside. “They’ll be here at six,”

TJ nodded, rolling off the bed and grabbing his clothes. “I’ll change in the bathroom. Wouldn’t wanna give you a heart attack,” he joked, turning his back on a very flushed Cyrus. Shaking his head, the boy reached into the drawer of his nightstand, and pulled out his journal. He didn’t need help with this word.

querencia: a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

He shut it quickly, slipping it back into the drawer. Lord knows what would happen if TJ saw it and flicked through a few pages; it would progressively get worse, he mused. Shaking his head clear of negative thoughts, he sifted through his closet to get ready for the day.

“Left foot blue!” Marty called out over the music, struggling to contain his laughter as Cyrus, Buffy, and TJ all scrambled to try and move their legs. They looked like a tangled mess, each of them in a position that nobody would ever call natural.

TJ bumped Cyrus foot as they went for the same spot, and both of them came crashing down, ending up on top of one another. A chorus of gasps and ‘oohs’ swept through their friend group, effectively making their cheeks redder than the red dots on the Twister tarp. Cyrus giggles, sending TJ into a fit of laughter as well, both of them crawling off of the mat, and leaving Buffy alone.

“I win!” she cheered, collapsing to the ground with a soft thud, “I knew I’d beat you guys,”

“The modest Buffy Driscoll, ladies and gentlemen,” TJ teased, chuckling softly.

“What should we do now?” Walker asked, folding up the Twister tarp.

“Ooh, we could play paranoia! I’ve always wanted to play, but there’s never been enough people,” Jonah suggested, motioning for people to get into a circle.

“How do you play?” Amber chimed in, crossing her legs.

“Okay, so basically, you ask the person to your left a question, so like I would ask Andi,” he explained, “and you whisper a question in their ear, but the answer has to be a person. So like, if I would ask her ‘who has the prettiest hair’, she’d answer out loud,”

“Amber,” she replied, grinning like an idiot.

“But you guys don’t know what the question was,” he continued, “but you could! We flip a coin after Andi answers; heads she spills the question, tails she doesn’t,”

“Okay, but why is it called paranoia?” Marty wondered aloud.

“Because people are paranoid when other people say their name, but don’t know the question. For all the know, it could be ‘who would you kill’,” Jonah mused, shaking his head, “that probably won’t happen. Wanna play?”

Everyone agreed that this would be a fun way to pass the time, save for Buffy who was still riding the high of winning Twister. And even after Marty explained to her that there were no winners or losers of this game, she wasn’t totally convinced, even though she agreed to play.

“I’ll go first,” Andi chirped, turning towards Buffy and whispering a question in her ear.

Who is most likely to cry at movies?

Buffy snorted, crossing her arms. “That’s easy. Cyrus,”

Cyrus perked up, hearing his name. “Ooh, drama,” he exclaimed giddily, clapping his hands together.

Buffy rolled her eyes, pulling out a coin from her pocket and flipping it. All eyes were on the coin as it rolled on its side, and then landed on heads. A whisper of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ filled the room, a few people eyeing Cyrus.

“I asked her who would be most like to cry at movies,” Andi piped, up, smiling sympathetically, “sorry Cyrus,”

Cyrus crossed his arms in mild annoyance, tilting his head up. “I just happen to be a little emotional,” he huffed.

TJ reached over Amber and patted him on the shoulder. “We know. It’s endearing,” he mumbled, earning what may have been the most incredulous look from Amber.

“Okay my turn,” Buffy cut in, turning towards Cyrus and asking him his question.

Who would you go watch a scary movie with?

“TJ,” Cyrus said with confidence. Jonah gave him a knowing look but Cyrus chose to ignore it. He flipped the coin, and it landed on heads. Suddenly he felt a lot less confident about his choice.

“I asked him who he would watch a scary movie with,” Buffy cooed, poking Cyrus’ side, while he attempted to swat her away.

TJ felt pairs of eyes staring him down. His face was an unnatural shade of pink, and he prayed that this awkwardness would die out soon.

“Because he’d warn me when all the bad part come,” Cyrus cut in, as if he could read TJ’s thoughts, “and he’d buy me popcorn,” he added, dissolving all tension in the room as people cracked up.

Cyrus leaned over and asked Amber her question.

Who would you trust with anything?

“. . .TJ, I guess,” she mumbled, taking the coin and flipping it. This time, however, it landed on tails, and everyone groaned. Everyone, that is, except for Amber, who couldn’t help but smirk.

“Alright, TJ,” Amber rubbed her hands together, her nose wrinkling up when she smiled, “your turn,”

Who is someone you have something important to tell?

TJ looked like he was going to leap at her throat, he he managed to maintain his cool. Trying to act nonchalant, he leaned back on his hands, saying “Cyrus,” in the most casual tone.

Amber looked at him as if she’d just won the lottery. Handing the coin to TJ, she watched as he flipped the coin. . .and it landed on tails. “For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, giving him a gentle shove, as he was giggling now.

“Boo hoo, Bambi didn’t get her way,” he toyed, leaning over to Walker.

Who is the most trustworthy person?

“Jonah, obviously,” he replied, blowing him a kiss, which Jonah happily ‘caught’.

Walker flipped the coin, which landed on heads. “I think you’re the most trustworthy person,”

“Aw,” Jonah cooed, smiling so hard his dimples looked like crevices in the earth.

“It’s true,” Cyrus chimed in, giving him a knowing look before turning his attention back to the game. It didn’t go unnoticed by TJ, who lingered on this for a moment. Why was Jonah the most trustworthy to Cyrus? Was he not trustworthy enough? Was he embarrassed to admit it if it were him? Ah, the lovely process of overthinking.

“My turn,” Walker piped up, turning to Marty.

Who do you wanna travel the world with?

Walker pulled back, crossing his arms proudly and waiting for a name to fill the room.

“TJ,”

Well, not that name. Walker gawked at him, his gaze flitting over to Buffy for a split second before he shook his head. “Oh. Okay,”

The rest of the group looked confused and bubbling with excitement, all at once. Buffy appeared unfazed, TJ was on edge, and the girls looked like they were barely paying attention. Walker handed Marty the coin, who flipped it with the utmost care. It rattled on the ground, rolling on its edge until it landed on heads.

Oh no.

Walker swallowed, picking up the coin and playing with it in his hands. “I-uh, well, I asked him who he’d. . .want to travel the world with,” he said quietly, his cheeks going hot.

Marty didn’t flinch, instead lifting his head to meet Buffy’s eyes. “Yup,” he stated, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

Everyone tensed up. TJ felt like he was going to be the subject of an interrogation. He bowed his head, not willing to make eye contact with people. Cyrus did the same, but for different reasons. He felt like part of his heart was being torn out, and he didn’t even know why.

“What about Buffy?” Jonah piped in, and TJ wanted to just pull him out of the room. Sweet Jonah, ever the oblivious one.

Marty didn’t bat an eye, narrowing his gaze. “I don’t think she’d want to travel the world with someone that she doesn’t like,” he spat, watching her face contort into one of confusion.

“I never said that!” she shot back, crossing her arms, “I said I-”

“-doesn’t matter,” he cut her off, waving his hand to dismiss her, and clearing his throat.

Andi looked between them, before clapping her hands together. “Next question?” she suggested, and Walker passed the coin along. Marty turned towards Jonah, scowling.

Who is most likely to fall in love with their best friend?

“Oh, Cyrus,” Jonah answered smoothly, turning his gaze towards his friend. Cyrus didn’t even seem phased; his feelings felt so overwhelming that it was almost as if he was numb and on high alert at the same time.

Jonah took the coin from Walker, and flipped it. He groaned when it landed on tails, but he shrugged it off, passing the coin down. Cyrus was beginning to understand why the game was called paranoia.

Jonah turned towards Andi, asking her her question.

Who would you wanna switch lives with for a week?

Andi thought about it for a moment, looking around at her group of friends before finally saying “Amber,”

The blonde perked up at that, her eyes lighting up like a fire. She waited for Andi to flip the coin, which, fortunately, landed on heads.

“I asked her who she wanted to switch lives with for a week,” Jonah supplied.

Amber’s smile quickly faltered. “What?” she asked, “why would you wanna switch lives with me of all people? My mom sucks,”

Andi shrugged, knitting her hands together. “I know, I just wanna see what it’s like in your shoes,” she admitted, earning a few coos from the crowd, “plus, I’d probably get to listen to TJ talk about Cyrus,” she blurted out, clapping her hand over her mouth after she’d said it.

The room fell silent; even the music they were playing had stopped. Cyrus looked like he was going to cry, and TJ was worried that if his face went any redder, he’d burst. The rest of the crew looked around, trying to survive through this awkward bout.

“I mean, like, in a normal friend way,” Andi added quickly, but there really was no use in her saying anything else. What was said was said, and there was no way she could take it back.

Cyrus dug fingers into his palms, trying, in vain, to distract himself from what was going on. Everything seemed to be falling apart right before his eyes; not just things with TJ, but everything with Buffy and Marty. . .it all felt like too much. He could feel his eyes burning, his lower lip start to wobble, and his breathing becoming shallow. Before he could break down right there and then, he quickly stood up, bolting towards the bathroom, and shutting the door. He locked it, sliding down the door and holding his head in his hands.

“Cyrus?” there was a knock on the door, and then a voice. Andi’s voice.

“Go away,” he snapped, but there was very little edge to his voice.

“Cyrus, please let me in,” she pleaded, her hand on the doorknob. Cyrus rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see her, but he moved away from the door, unlocking it. She pushed through, and shut the door behind her.

“What do you want?” he retorted, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she started, her voice small and meek, “I didn’t mean to bring up you and TJ and-”

“-and my silly, stupid-ass crush on him, I get it. I fucking get it that it’s pointless because he probably likes Marty or some shit like that,” he spat, the curse words tasting a little strange. He never really used them, and heck, he usually reprimanded people for using them.

Andi looked taken aback, her eyes softening. “That’s. . .not what I mean at all. Marty?”

Cyrus glowered at her. “Travel the world, don’t you remember?”

“Oh,” Andi mumbled, “I don’t think he really meant that,” she tried to soothe him, reaching out her hand, but Cyrus pushed it away.

“Oh, really? How the hell do you know that, hm?” he grumbled, “you don’t,”

“Cyrus, please,” she tried, but he cut her off.

“No Andi,” he interrupted, looking like he was on the verge of tears, “I’m done with this. I’m done letting you guys convince me that there’s something else between me and TJ. I’m breaking my own heart loving him. For the longest fucking time, I was torn between holding on to what you were promising and accepting the reality that it wouldn’t happen,” he choked out.

“Cyrus, Marty and TJ aren’t-”

Cyrus put a hand up. “You don’t have to say it, Andi,” he said softly, “I care about him so much. and you know what people say about love; you do whatever is best for someone else even if it doesn’t include you” he whispered, his voice weak, and his eyes threatening to spill over with tears. Andi tried to say something, but Cyrus got up off of the floor, and left the bathroom.

He looked around for Amber, but he didn’t see her. Walker and Buffy were over by one of the couches talking, presumably about what had happened. Andi had walked over to Jonah, and her mouth was moving so fast that Cyrus couldn’t keep up with what she was saying. And, near the back of the room, were TJ and Marty. They were talking, yes, but when TJ pulled Marty in for a hug, Cyrus felt so small. He wanted the ground to come alive and swallow him whole. He wanted to block that out from his mind, but he knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Cyrus shook his head, running up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door. He really didn’t to cry, but it felt like he didn’t have a choice.

Grabbing his journal, he started to write.

6/29

Today I invited all my friends over to hang out. We were playing paranoia, and then Buffy and Marty started to argue about their relationship. That wasn’t even the worst; Andi brought up me and TJ, and I just felt so exposed. I really didn’t want people to know about my feelings for him, but now I feel like they will. Things with Marty and TJ escalated, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more there. Andi tried to tell me that there isn’t anything there, but I don’t believe that. This is why I always want to lock all my emotions away. Because the moment I let them loose, I fall hard. I fall with no one there to catch me, so I hit the pavement and shatter.

Some of his writing had smudged, as a result of his tears. TJ and Marty’s names blurred into one blob. How fitting, he thought. His phone buzzed a few times, and he opened them, out of habit.

[amber: went home. hope things are okay <3]

[jb: walker n i left, lmk if u need anything]

[slayer: see u tmrw, cy, ily. sorry about the fighting]

[marty party: went home dude, hope everything’s fine]

[andi another thing: cyrus im so sorry about what i said. im going home, but i really want things to be okay with us. i love u]

Putting it back on his nightstand, he lied down on his bed, putting the palms of his hands on his eyes. There was a soft knock at the door, and then it opened. Why knock if you’re going to come in anyways? Cyrus wondered, sitting up.

“Hey,” TJ said softly, shutting the door, “you okay? You kind of disappeared,”

Cyrus really didn’t want to talk about it; he especially didn’t want to talk about it with TJ because he’d probably explode with feelings. And that was exactly what he wanted not to happen.

“I’m fine,” he snipped, clearly lying. TJ frowned, taking a seat on the bed with Cyrus.

“Okay,” he replied worriedly, “. . .do you wanna do something else?”

“Why don’t you go ask Marty,” Cyrus drawled, “I’m sure he’d love to do something with you,”

“What are you talking about?” TJ asked, “what do you mean?”

“Why don’t you lovebirds go travel the world together,” Cyrus suggested, bowing his head down.

“Oh,” TJ mumbled, remembering, “that’s nothing, really.”

Cyrus didn’t respond, instead remaining fixated on one spot on the floor.

“It’s. . .stuff with Marty and Buffy,” TJ explained, earning a nod from Cyrus.

“Ah, yes. Love and not love,” Cyrus mused, lying down on the bed. TJ leaned back as well, both of them now staring at the ceiling.

“Marty’s just pissed because he feels like his relationship with Buffy is in shambles,” TJ sighed, running a hand through his hair, “don’t tell him I told you that,”

Cyrus nodded, miming zipping his lips. “I think I’m going to turn in early,”

TJ bopped his head, getting up off of the bed and sifting through his bag.

“Hey TJ?”

“Hm?”

“What did Amber ask you earlier? When you said my name?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

TJ felt his face heat up again, as he pulled out his pajamas. “Oh, uh, she asked me. . .who I had something important to say to,” he winced, hoping Cyrus wouldn’t press on.

“Oh, really? What is it?” Cyrus asked, suddenly feeling more alert.

TJ pretended to yawn, stretching his arms up above his head. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I’m kinda tired,” he said, shifting his focus to his pajamas again. He hated lying to Cyrus, but he really didn’t want to get into this tonight.

“Oh, yeah,” Cyrus mumbled, disappointed, “totally,” he added, scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, and patting the spot next to him.

TJ crawled into the bed, frowning at the added space between him and Cyrus. He knew they weren’t fighting, exactly, but he could still sense something. He turned to face Cyrus, and sure enough, Cyrus turned to meet his eyes as well. God, he looked beautiful.

“What?” Cyrus asked softly, bringing his hand under his head.

“. . .nothing,” TJ whispered, smiling weakly, “night, Cy,”

“Night, TJ,” Cyrus mumbled, tugging the covers up and shutting his eyes.

TJ reached down off the bed and grabbed his phone from out of his bag. Sure enough, he had a text from Amber.

[andi’s girlfriend: jesus are things between you and cyrus okay?]

[Me: yeah, things are good. how are things at home w/ mom?]

[andi’s girlfriend: weird. it’s weird not having u here]

[Me: whats she saying about me?]

[andi’s girlfriend: nothing really. she’s acting like nothing happened]

[Me: figures. i’ll see u tmrw?]

[andi’s girlfriend: night tj. i love u (and so does cyrus skdjfhdsj)]

[Me: love you too (platonically)]

TJ dropped his phone back into his bag and turned so that he was facing Cyrus. He was already asleep, his knees up in his chest, his breathing soft and slow.

“I love you, Cy,” TJ whispered into the night, pressing a kiss to his own fingers, and lightly touching Cyrus’ temple. Smiling, he tugged on the covers, and shut his own eyes, letting fatigue overcome him.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush || @tyrus-lookback || @gaycefulwords || @theobligatedklutz || @bambikippen ||

#tyrus #andi mack #tyrus fic #cyrus' dictionary #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #wonah #ambi #muffy #my fics

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lgbtyrus · 6 years

Text

TJ’s Playlist Chapter 6

Story Summary: When Cyrus finds a playlist on TJ’s desktop full of old love songs, he realizes that TJ has never been a scary basketball guy but rather a huge sap. TJ just wished Cyrus could realize that all of those songs remind him of a certain boy who likes chocolate chocolate chip muffins without telling him directly.

With insecurities and fears almost set in stone, it’s hard for TJ to admit that he has a heart aching crush on Cyrus who is trying to avoid just that. Of course, it doesn’t seem like both of them are trying to get over each other when they’re always together.

Ao3 Link | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Words: 4252

Warning: angst, they cuss now

Cyrus found himself still lying awake in his dark room. His blanket had been thrown to the side, and he was sweating. He made his way to his restroom, and when he was washing his hands, he looked up at his mirror. He looked exhausted. He had told TJ goodnight and his intentions were to fall asleep right away like he had for the last few years. It was a gift Andi and Buffy always told him that they envied.

Only he couldn’t.

He kept thinking about his conversation with Buffy and wondered if there was anything that they had done that made her ask that question. What had put the idea in her head?

The only thing that drove him crazier was that he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. When had put the polaroid of him and TJ in his journal, he doodled a heart on the side without thinking. He quickly turned it into a shaded in circle and shut his journal.

He didn’t want to like TJ. He couldn’t like TJ. He didn’t want to be feeling all those butterflies and how his cheeks managed to feel hotter around him even though it was already 90 degrees outside. TJ was the human version of the sun to him, and it was getting harder to look at him. Cyrus couldn’t help but notice the few freckles that dotted his nose. Green was becoming a prettier color to him, and he didn’t want to know if it was because that was the color of TJ’s eyes. Their height difference was becoming a lot more noticeable to him, too. Thinking about their height difference killed him. It was when he wondered if he’d have to stand on his tippy toes to kiss him.

He would do absolutely anything to stop thinking about TJ.

Only it was getting harder.

It was kind of starting to hurt, too. It was the same longing he felt in his chest when he saw Jonah. His obstacle from being with Jonah was Andi and the probable fact that Jonah didn’t like boys. His obstacle with being TJ was simply that he didn’t like boys- making it easier to lose their friendship. If Jonah had found out, he was probably going to say “oh sorry” and then proceed to still be friends with him because of the Good Hair Crew.

If TJ found out, Cyrus had already built 22 different scenarios of it going horribly wrong. Only one of them included a “Sorry, Cyrus. I don’t like guys. But let’s still be friends.” Only, they didn’t ever speak again after that. Cyrus felt like he was driving himself mad thinking of it.

Cyrus made his way back into his room and threw himself at his bed. He hadn’t checked the time in a while, so he unplugged his phone from the charger on his bedside table. He let out a sigh as he realized it was 2:02AM. He felt curse. He had never stayed up for no reason, not even when he liked Iris or Jonah. If anything, he wanted to go to sleep to avoid the fact that he didn’t like kissing Iris as cool as she was. He wanted to fall asleep so that he could dream of another world where Jonah liked him.

But now all he could do is stay away and live in the world where TJ Kippen didn’t like him.

Cyrus shut his eyes once more, his phone gripped in his hand. He tried to fall asleep, and he knew it wasn't working. He slightly picked his head up and slammed it back down repeatedly on his pillow, hoping it'd be enough to take him out. It didn't work.

He began thinking about TJ again as he gave up and lay there. He thought about how he was actually putting in a lot more effort into his math. It made him smile.

Then he remembered.

Cyrus: Hey TJ r u awake?

In less than a minute, there was a response on his phone.

TJ: Yes but u shouldnt be

Cyrus: i can't sleep

TJ: why not?

Because of you!

Cyrus: honestly im not sure. i just have a lot of things running through my mind

You.

TJ: Do you want to talk about it?

Cyrus: I don't think so. I don't even know y i texted u in the first place tbh. sorry

TJ: youre good. i dont fall asleep until like 4am

Cyrus: oh man thats too late kgfdjgfdg

TJ: lmao i didnt think youd ever fall asleep past 10

Cyrus: i never do. i have a strict need for at least 7 hrs of sleep or ill die

TJ: looks like ur gonna die

Cyrus: please release a white dove at my funeral. make it two so it won't be lonely. Im being honest rn. im chugging a gallon of coffee tomorrow i swear. how do u do it everyday

TJ: I don't have a choice most of the time lmao. i just deal with it and let it slowly try to kill me

Cyrus: so u havent died bc you're a vampire?

TJ: u can say that. Hey can I call you instead? Im lazy

Cyrus: ye

“No,” Cyrus groaned. Hearing his voice was going to make everything feel worse. His phone started buzzing and he quickly answered it. He had never been happier about having soundproof walls. He didn’t want his parents asking what he was doing up so late talking to TJ.

“Hey,” TJ mumbled. Cyrus thought his sleepy voice was going to knock him out cold right then and right there.

“Hey, vampire,” Cyrus teased, making TJ chuckled in response.

“You sound awfully happy.”

“I’d be happier if I was asleep but I guess a late night conversation with my good pal TJ won’t kill me.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you really made up with Buffy,” TJ hummed. His voice was groggy yet Cyrus ate up every single one of his words. This was definitely a bad decision. “Did you?”

“I did,” Cyrus sighed. He was starting to wonder if he should tell him the real reason he couldn’t sleep. No. Then I’d have to tell him the idea of us liking each other is keeping me awake. But…. I don’t like him so it wouldn’t matter would it?

“We’re all cool right? I was wondering if she wanted to get her girl team to practice with mine.”

Cyrus grinned, “That’s actually be great. You should talk to her about it. I swear she’s not angry.”

“Why was she acting up with you then?”

“Stupid reasons. She admitted it herself. She’s scared of… something.”

“Buffy? Scared?” TJ scoffed. “Of what? Her reflection?” TJ paused and then said, “Sorry, that was mean.” Cyrus ended up laughing.

“No, it’s fine. She’s more worried you can say.”

“Of what?”

Of us falling in love, getting married, adopting kids, and living next door to her.

“Of us getting closer I guess.”

“So, she’s jealous?” TJ asked. Cyrus stopped himself for a moment. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He did make it clear he’d never pick anyone over her and Andi, though. He wouldn’t.

“Well we cleared it up, so I don’t think so.”

“Did she,” TJ hummed for a moment, “say anything else?” Cyrus raised an eyebrow. Did TJ know something else?

“Why are you asking?”

“Um…. Just curious.”

“You sure?”

“Well,” TJ added hesitantly. “I don’t know. I guess Amber and Buffy talked.”

“Buffy and Amber? Like my Buffy?”

“No, Buffy Summers. Yes, your Buffy,” TJ chuckled. “I guess that Amber showed her that photo where we both fell asleep and um,” TJ’s voice got lower, “I think that’s why she started acting up. Acting up is the right phrase to use but it’s 2AM. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cyrus barely managed to say. His heart was beating fast and he was filling up with dread. Did TJ know exactly what Buffy was thinking?

“But did she say anything weird?” TJ asked again. Cyrus realized there were only 22 ways this could go wrong, and then chances of triggering one wasn’t that high. He was also half asleep and his “fuck it” senses were quite activated.

“By weird do you mean her asking me a million times about the idea of us dating?” Cyrus quickly spit out, hoping TJ might miss the word ‘dating’. There was a moment of complete silence for almost twenty seconds. Cyrus palms were feeling sweaty, so he put his phone on speaker and lay it on the pillow next to him.

“Yeah, that,” TJ finally said. “I think it was because of Amber, to be honest.”

“I mean everything makes sense, now,” Cyrus replied. “I was getting worried about some dumb stuff. I think that’s why I couldn’t sleep.” He felt a lot more relieved. So he and TJ hasn’t done something that made it seem like they had “more than friends” intentions. It was just a conversation between Buffy and Amber that sparked something in Buffy.

“So you do know why you can’t sleep,” TJ told him, discarding the dating topic.

“Well, kind of. I mean Buffy and I actually fought over this. We never fight.”

“Just because her and Amber conspired that we liked each other?” TJ scoffed. “They do know that will never happen right?” Those words seemed to chew right through Cyrus’ heart strings.

“Yeah… yeah,” Cyrus cleared his throat. “I mean we fixed it. She realized she was being dumb. She admitted it, too.”

“Did she apologize?”

“No. I don’t expect her to. It’s Buffy.”

“It’s Buffy isn’t a good excuse, Underdog. If I drain the blood out of a kindergartner, nobody is going to say, ‘Well, it’s just TJ.’ Are they?”

“One, they’re totally different. Two, one of them is completely unrealistic.” He wished TJ wasn’t so blunt sometimes. It made him come face to face with the feelings and thoughts he always shoved in the back of his head.

“Buffy apologizing every once in a while shouldn’t be unrealistic.”

“Well,” Cyrus sighed. “I don’t feel like she owes me an apology, okay?”

“If you’re comfortable with lying to yourself, sure.”

“I’m so comfortable with lying to myself, I’d convince myself that I love myself.”

“Self-deprecating humor, huh. Nice”

“Thanks. It’s a specialty. My brain is full of it.”

“That’s nice. My brain is full of useless facts.”

“Like what?”

“Like a cat named Stubbs was the mayor of Alaska from 1997 until his death.

“TJ, I know I don’t cuss, but literally. What the fuck,” Cyrus softly chuckled, causing TJ to erupt with laughter. Cyrus rarely heard TJ laugh like this, but it was music to his ears. He really did hate the way TJ made him feel like he was floating on the clouds. He was starting to get sleepy now.

“I can’t remember how to do long division, but I honestly can remember the dumbest things,” TJ said, starting to mumble again. “Hey, Underdog. Have you started reading The Giver yet?”

“No,” Cyrus yawned. “We don’t need to be up to chapter five until Friday.”

“Want me to read it to you until you fall asleep? You sound like you’re going to pass out any minute now.”

“But then I won’t remember where I was before I fell asleep,” Cyrus moaned.

“Don’t argue. I’m already getting my book,” TJ told him. Cyrus could hear TJ shuffling around the bedroom. “Alright. Chapter one…” TJ read to him for what felt twenty minutes before he couldn’t remember anything but the lightness of dream.

And now the purple dusk of twilight time

Steals across the meadows of my heart

TJ was in the middle of chapter two when he heard light snoring. He smiled and whispered, “Goodnight, Underdog.” He hung up the phone and set the book back inside of his backpack before shutting off the lights. He went back under his covers and checked his phone for the time. It was 3AM, and he could hear the distant yet familiar arguing from downstairs. He had blocked it out for almost an hour thanks to Cyrus and Lois Lowry. TJ put the sides of the pillows to cover his ears and closed his eyes.

He knew time had passed when his eyes blasted open at the sound of a door slamming shut. The front door downstairs. He then registered the soft crying. Amber’s crying. He sat straight up and saw that Amber was at the end of his bed, her back against the wall.

“Amber?” TJ rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Dad left,” she whispered. TJ stopped moving. Was he hearing wrong?

High up in the sky the little stars climb

Always reminding me that we're apart

You wander down the lane and far away

Leaving me a song that will not die

“What?”

“Dad left. I heard them fighting in the bedroom like twenty minutes ago and he was packing his stuff,” she covered her face as she started to bawl. TJ lowered his hand and crawled over and put his arm around her. Amber shared a wall with their parents. TJ at least had the guest room in between which spared him a lot. Amber had always had it the worst.

“He’ll come back,” TJ whispered, his eyes starting to burn with tears. “He’ll come back.” Amber kept crying, her sobs eventually turning into wails. All TJ could do was sit there and hug her. He hadn’t even checked what time it was. He didn’t know if Amber had fallen asleep. It was getting hazy and everything felt a million times heavier. Amber’s sobs would die down and then increase suddenly, and he failed at trying not to cry. The only thing he heard was crying and the cars that would pass by in the streets. There was a ghostly silence emitting from the entire house. “He has to come back.”

Amber fell asleep after a long while, but TJ stayed wide awake. He gently laid her down before positioning himself next to his window. He was sitting with his back flat on his poster-covered wall, his eyes switching between watching Amber sleep and staring at the photos on his ceiling. He couldn’t really see them. It was still dark outside, and he didn’t know what he was waiting for. As soon as the sun beams started burst through the window and hit his bedsheets, he knew. He reached out a hand and let the light beam of sunshine hit his hand. There were striped shadows from the blinds wrapping around his skin. He let out a half-smile before closing his eyes. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to be he told himself. His GG always said that the rising sun meant a new era. He knew he wasn’t lying because the day he died, the sunrise turned the skies orange. It was his GG’s favorite color.

The music of the years gone by.

Sometimes I wonder, how I spend

The lonely nights

Dreaming of a song

The melody

Haunts my reverie

And I am once again with you

TJ laid down next to Amber and closed his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep. It didn’t feel like he had slept for more than a few minutes, but it was 6:30AM when he woke up to Amber turning off his alarm clock. He hadn’t even covered himself with the blankets, and he was cold. Amber stood up with her hands wrapped around herself as she shivered.

“Get ready, okay?” she told him, her teeth chattering. She looked horrible, and TJ knew he did, too. He simply nodded his head, and she made her way out of his room. He didn’t want to get up. He was exhausted and drained. It was a different type of tired where everything felt heavy and his throat felt dry. His eyes hurt every time he blinked. He had no idea how he was going to make it through the entire day. He still had work that afternoon, and he definitely could not skip right now.

He stood up anyways and got dressed. He went out into the hall and heard the sink running in the restroom. Amber was going to be a while. He went back into his room and got his hair gel from his bag and started doing his hair in there to get that over with. When he was done, he heard his phone vibrate. He reached over and smiled when he saw who it was from.

Cyrus: Good morning. I’m dead.

TJ: God I wish I were you right now

Cyrus: What time did u fall asleep??? I don’t even remember falling asleep.

TJ: u knocked out like at 3.

Cyrus: how much sleep did you get

TJ: idk like 2

Cyrus: 2 what? Hours

TJ: minutes

Cyrus: tj omg. Minutes?!!!!!

TJ: okay maybe like an hour or 2 I don’t really know.

TJ hesitated before sending the next text.

TJ: everything just sucks right now

Cyrus: hey I’m here if you need anything okay? We can talk about it over baby tators after tutoring if you’d like. My treat this time.

TJ: can’t. I have work.

Cyrus: I’ll walk you to work then. Sound good?

TJ: sounds perfect :^)

Cyrus: :o)

TJ heard the restroom door open, and he walked out to finish getting ready. Amber saw the smile on his face and raised an eyebrow, “Cyrus.” TJ shrugged, the smile not faltering. “Goofy boys,” Amber shook her head with a grin and walked back into her room.

When TJ finished getting ready, he walked down stairs to find Amber making them breakfast. He had heard their mom shuffling around in the master bedroom, so he knew she wasn’t downstairs.

“Eat up,” Amber told him as he sat down. “It’s almost seven, and I’m pretty sure we’re walking.” TJ didn’t say anything and gratefully ate the breakfast. They both ate in silence. TJ realized Amber didn’t have any makeup on and her hair was in a ponytail. He had seen himself in the mirror minutes ago, and he knew he didn’t exactly look like Prince Charming either.

They both turned to the kitchen doorway when their mom walked inside. She was still in her work uniform, and her hair was in a bun that was fall apart. Her eyes and nose were extremely red.

“I made breakfast,” Amber told her, not looking at her for longer than a second. TJ just saw her nod her head before walking to the coffee machine.

“You kids don’t have to go to school today,” she told them, her voice quiet yet rough. “I’ll call in.”

“I have to turn in an essay,” Amber quickly responded.

“Yeah,” TJ momentarily added, “I have tutoring after school.”

“Tutoring?” their mom turned to look at him. TJ sunk back a little in his seat. They had been told about his dyscalculia, but it was something they haven’t talked about in a while.

“Yeah,” TJ bit his lip. “I have it for math with a friend and Mrs. Pierson.” She simply nodded her head and went back to paying attention to the coffee machine. They were silent for the next few minutes as Amber and TJ kept eating, the clinking of dishes filling the air. Their mom watched them carefully as she drank her coffee. TJ checked his phone and told them, “I better get going.” He collected his and Amber’s dishes and placed them in the sink.

“I’ll wash them after I drop you kids off,” their mom putting her coffee on the counter. “Let me go get the keys.”

“We can walk if you want,” Amber told her delicately. She hadn’t taken them to school in ages. They called it an unnecessary waste of gas most of the time.

“No,” she shook her head. “I want to. At least today.” Neither TJ or Amber pressed the matter and just went to wait by the door. Amber’s eyes were already tearing up as they got to the door. TJ gave her a weak reassuring and smile which caused Amber to rub her eyes in an attempt of disguise. When the heard the keys rattling, Amber turned to their mom and said, “I have English second period. I might text you to pick me up.”

“I’ll be by my phone,” she said as they all walked out to the family car. TJ sat in the back seat and waited for the car to start moving. He felt ice cold even though fall had barely crept in, and it was making him want to sleep. He started considering skipping school. Mrs. Pierson would understand. Cyrus would, too. “Hey, um,” their mom gently said. “I just want you kids to know that I already talked to my boss. I’m getting shifts as I need them. I’m going to be responsible now, I swear. Nana and I talked. She’ll be on call if any of you two need anything, and I’m at work.” TJ knew Amber was crying again. It made him feel worse hearing her cry. Their mom started choking up, “Hey, I love you kids, okay? I’ve been a shitty mom lately, but we’ll get through this even if it’s just the three of us. I swear.”

He has to come back. He has to come back.

TJ was early to school; not a lot of kids had gotten dropped off. He walked into the cafeteria and got in line (it was only two kids in front of him). He was full already, but he eyed the chocolate chocolate chip muffins. He grabbed one and went back outside to sit at a picnic bench. He pulled out his phone and realized he already had a text from Cyrus.

Cyrus: hey I need to see you before class starts

TJ: im already at school sooo

Cyrus: im almost there. Where are u?

TJ: Benches by the cafeteria

TJ didn’t bother waiting for a response. He rested his head on his propped up arm and started closing his eyes. His eyelids felt so stiff, and he if tired had a taste, it was whatever parched feeling he had in his throat.

“Good morning!” Cyrus enthusiastically said, causing TJ to jump up startled.

“Hey!” TJ yelped. He quickly turned around to see if anyone had seen, but it was just kids minding their own business and Cyrus laughing. TJ smirked at Cyrus, “Proud that you scared the shit out of me?”

“Kind of, yes,” Cyrus grinned. He had two coffee shop drinks in his hands and one was half-way done. TJ assumed that’s where he got his energy. “Here,” Cyrus set the coffee in front of TJ. “I don’t know if you drink coffee, but I know you need it.”

“I’m usually an energy drink guy, but I tend to not splurge on them. Sleep is free energy,” TJ said and picked up the coffee. He studied the see-thru plastic carefully. He rarely got anything from the coffee shop. He didn’t know how to order it. Why couldn’t the sizes just be small, medium, and large?

“You’re not getting any sleep, and TJ, I mean this in the nicest way possible. You look exhausted. I’m so glad I chose today to get you this,” Cyrus gave TJ an apologetic look. TJ was half-asleep, so he just stared at Cyrus’ lips for a few seconds too long before remembering he was in a conversation.

“Uh, yeah,” TJ blinked furiously and set the coffee down, “thank you by the way. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” Cyrus shook his head. TJ took a sip from the straw and immediately made a sour face.

“What is this, Underdog?” TJ smacked his lips a few times. It was super sweet at first, but he liked the aftertaste. He started drinking it again.

“I call it liquid cocaine. It’s 4 shots of expresso, and 4 pumps of white chocolate syrup over ice in a cold cup.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“You sleeping habits are unhealthy, TJ. You need to get more sleep.”

“Sounds fake.”

“TJ!” Cyrus whined.

“Fine, fine,” TJ rubbed his eyes. “I’ll take sleeping syrup or something.”

“Don’t abuse that stuff, though.”

“Do you want me to sleep or not?” TJ smiled, causing Cyrus to shrug.

“I guess,” Cyrus sighed. TJ felt nice for a change. Every time he realized Cyrus cared about him, it made everything feel better. Even if everything was a complete shit pile. “Hey we have time to talk if you want to tell me what’s wrong. Or we can wait until after school. If we don’t crash.” TJ looked around and bit his lip. If he didn’t make it to the end of the school day, it wasn’t going to be because of a caffeine crash. He was pretty good at hiding any emotional distress in person, but he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold this in.

“I’ll just um…,” TJ bit his lip harder.

“We’ll talk after school,” Cyrus reached his hand across the table and squeezed TJ’s free hand. TJ felt himself turning red, but he didn’t reach out to cover his nose. He put the coffee down and set the abandoned muffin right in front of Cyrus.

“It’s for you.”

The nightingale

Tells his fairytale

Of paradise, where roses grew

Though I dream in vain

In my heart it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love's refrain.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! Here’s those who asked to be tagged :) If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know! Also if I forget you I swear it wasn’t on purpose. I skip over things in my head sometimes.

@magicalcowboycalzonemoney @the-greatt-perhaps @thedampjofangirl@evaeselgreatest @musicalsfuckmeup @stupidlambforever

#stars writing #andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #tjs playlist

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leighbot · 6 years

Text

day three! up quite early for me! i have no solid plan to keep this going for twenty more days but we’ll see :)

a sappy excerpt from my 50 first dates au (and this also fits my think written prompt for day 11 sooooooo i’m using it)

“I want to get out of the house for a bit,” Zayn says, leaning against the doorjamb and peering into the kitchen where Harry is unloading bags of groceries. Finn is clinging to Zayn’s calf, just over a year old and completely obsessed with his baba. “Been reading my journal and feel kind of…”

“Closed in?” Harry offers, pulling back from one of the upper cabinets.

“Yeah.”

“What colours did you read today?”

“Mostly the yellow one… family.”

“There’s a fair a couple towns over; would you want to go for a drive?”

“Can the baby come?”

Harry snorts. “’Can the baby come’,” he repeats as he walks towards them before bending down to pick up Finn. “Of course the baby can come. He’ll love the lights.”

“And the smells,” Zayn says, already dreaming of fried dough. He wants some with cinnamon and some with strawberries.

“Fried dough,” Harry says, smiling wide at Finn. “Baba wants some fried dough.”

Zayn doesn’t know that he’ll get used to the fact that Harry knows everything about him while he knows almost nothing about Harry.

Harry must realise his thoughts because his smile fades quickly. “Sor-“

“Nope!” Zayn says, a little too loudly as he lifts a hand. “A lot of my last few entries made it clear you’re feeling really… guilty, or sommat, lately. No ‘sorry’ allowed today.”

Seriousness lines the corners of Harry’s mouth as he nods. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “Want to get ready for a carnival?”

“I’ll take Finn,” Zayn offers, holding out his hands for his little boy. He’s already missing having him in his arms. “Let’s go get ready, baby.”

~*~

Two hours and plenty of fried dough bites later, Zayn and Harry are sat next to each other with Finn on Zayn’s left in a whirly ride. It’s still early in the evening and they’re far from the only family milling around, though the teenagers are starting to come out in full force. “I’m going to pee myself,” Harry laughs around a particularly fast turn.

“That’s cute,” Zayn snorts, keeping Finn close to his side. He’d apologized the first time they rode this ride, when he kept pressing into Harry’s side. He flushes now when he does it again, his own weight feeling heavy where he’s tucked under Harry’s arm. Harry leans in when the ride slows and coaxes Zayn into a quick kiss before the carnie comes around to check that their cart is empty.

“I love you,” Harry tells him.

Before Zayn can think of a non-awkward way to respond, Finn is crawling over Zayn’s lap and pushing at Harry’s stomach. “No!” he says. “No no no.”

Zayn laughs and pulls Finn away from Harry. “Baba’s protector,” he jokes as he stands, shifting Finn to his hip. “Do we want to go on the Ferris Wheel?”

“Yea!” Finn agrees, fisting his hands in Zayn’s t-shirt. He’s tugged it out of shape, the V-neck more of a U-neck at this point, and Zayn tugs it out of his fist with a few kisses of encouragement.

“Gonna need to go shopping soon,” Harry tells him. “You’ve gone through all of your own shirts and now you’ve ruined mine, as well.”

“Your son did it,” Zayn corrects, smiling easily when he looks over to Harry. “Why don’t you just buy more and I’ll snag them from your wardrobe?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course that’s your solution.”

They jump in line for the Ferris Wheel, Zayn bouncing Finn on his hip as the baby begins to doze.

“You’re different today,” Harry notes as they step forward.

“I’m different every day, I suppose.”

“Different-er today.”

“Not so different-er that I know that wasn’t a word.”

Harry blinks before breaking out into a huge grin. “You don’t tease like that very often. You’re fiesty today. Reminds me of the day you proposed.”

“I proposed?”

“That usually takes you by surprise.”

Zayn frowns, turning away. He doesn’t want to think that he would keep Harry trapped in this life but a part of him thinks that Harry already knows this. They shuffle forward in the queue.

“It was the perfect day: we went shopping at a farmer’s market and bought a tonne of fruit and veg. We each had our hands full of things and, at the last stall, you saw a woman selling flowers.”

“What kind?” Zayn asks, enchanted with the story. It’s like he’s being told about someone else’s life instead of his own except that he feels satisfaction in his soul, like pieces of his puzzle are being fitted together and the overall picture is becoming clearer.

“Really ugly ones.”

Zayn laughs, caught off guard. “What?” he asks. He’s too loud for Finn, who wakes briefly from his nap and pouts up at Zayn with his big green eyes. Zayn brushes his fuzzy blonde hair back from his face and rocks him to sleep again.

“There were normal ones, like a daisy and a yellow tulip, but then there were a lot that looked like fancy weeds and a couple that I promise were just leaves plucked off of trees. The whole bouquet was beautiful altogether but really not lovely when you took apart the pieces.”

“Well, stop feeling the need to over-examine everything in your life and maybe all you’ll see are the beautiful, whole pictures.”

“Haha, that’s fair,” Harry says. His hand is a solid weight against the small of Zayn’s back as they step up for their turn. They get into the buggy, one of the big ones where they’re completely enclosed and there’s a bar in the middle of the bucket that keeps them rigged to the machine. Zayn steps in first and doesn’t move much further, forcing Harry to crowd in next to him.

“I wanna kiss you at the top of the Ferris Wheel when Finn can’t yell at you,” Zayn says, his voice barely over a whisper in the non existent space between them. Harry bares his teeth in a playful growl and Zayn laughs and lunges away, mindful of the baby still in his arms.

~*~

They get in their kiss- kisses, really, as Zayn’s lips feel a little chapped by the time they’re disembarking- and Finn doesn’t wake up until they’re walking around the grounds again. They stop for a bit, making up a small pseudo-picnic space on a patch of grass behind one of the rides just before the parking lot begins. They let Finn stretch his legs and toddle between them while he snacks on a fistful of cereal that Zayn doesn’t think actually makes it into his mouth.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Zayn says a few minutes later, his eyes heavy and the only thing he can think of is resting his head on Harry’s chest and taking a late afternoon nap. Then something occurs to him – he remembers something he saw from the top of the Ferris Wheel. “Oh, no, come on. Let’s go.”

“What?” Harry drags out the word, clearly half-asleep himself.

Zayn gets Finn on his hip and grabs for Harry’s hand once the diaper bag is all packed up. “C’mon.”

Obviously curious, Harry links their fingers and falls into step with Zayn. They cross the asphalt and weave through the growing crowds. The sun is low in the sky and some of the lights on the rides are starting to come on. Zayn can tell the second Harry realises their destination, his footsteps falling faster and his hand holding Zayn’s tighter.

“This is… so cheesy,” Zayn admits once they’re stopped. He drops Harry’s hand to rub at an itch on the back of his neck that he’s pretty sure is just a nervous tic.

“This is perfect!” Harry contradicts, nearly running to hop onto the carousel floor. He grabs onto one of the poles as it stops moving unexpectedly and Zayn hops on behind him to help get him steady, Finn between them as they walk about.

“I know which one you want,” Zayn says, nodding at a blue-scaled dragon hovering above the ground.

“Will I break it?” Harry asks, though he eagerly crosses over and hops on. There’s a second pause where Zayn wonders if he’s still worried about it falling but the whole thing stays connected to the metal pole fixed through the dragon’s shoulders and down to the floor.

“Where should we sit, Finn?” Zayn asks, kissing Finn’s cheeks.

“Dadda!”

“Yeah? You can go with daddy.” Zayn passes him over and climbs onto the animal next to Harry, not realising what it is until he’s slinging the diaper bag from Harry’s shoulder across the horn and noticing that he’s chosen a purple unicorn. “Nice!”

“Baba?” Finn asks, looking the wrong way.

“I’m right here baby,” Zayn calls out. He’s close enough that Finn can reach his hand with Harry holding his shorts so he doesn’t over balance. The music starts a second before the ride does and Harry leans his forehead on the pole of his dragon and watches Zayn. “What?” Zayn asks, wiping at his face as if there’s something on it.

“Just can’t get enough of you,” Harry says simply. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Zayn bites at his bottom lip and pulls out his mobile phone. He turns on the camera. “Say it again,” he orders Harry, smiling when he watches Harry’s performer personality come out in the brightness of his eyes. Harry repeats himself for his audience and Zayn turns the view around so he can see himself. “Me too,” he says softly, smiling wide when he sees Harry’s expression change out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t let yourself forget this right now.” He drags the camera in a swoop around him, capturing the lights and sounds from the ride and the people around them. “You’re in love and a beautiful man loves you right back.”

He stops recording and sends the video to his email immediately, not risking losing this one. By the time he tucks it into his pocket, Harry’s stood next to him and is getting his free hand around the curve of Zayn’s jaw. Ignoring Finn’s babbled protests, Harry captures Zayn’s mouth in a kiss a little too long and wet to be decent for public. “I love you,” Harry says when he lets Zayn go. Zayn laughs and pushes his fingers through Finn’s hair to soothe his jealousy. The ride begins to slow and Zayn smacks another kiss to Harry’s mouth.

“I love you,” Zayn says. He knows he doesn’t always say it, doesn’t always get there each day, but he can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not feeling all of this right now. “I love you, I love our family, I love how happy we seem despite… everything.”

“The baby and I will be here for you every single day,” Harry insists. “Just like I know you’ll be here for us.”

#it should be obvious but these are 0 percent read over #50fd #zarry #my fic #365 prompts #day 11: dragon

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cassolotl · 6 years

Text

Pronoun tips from binary men and women

Every once in a while I am asked (or see someone asking) how to use pronouns other than he/him and she/her. The person asking is usually a man or a woman unfamiliar with nonbinary stuff generally, but they’ve got a particular nonbinary person in their life whom they care about and they don’t want to mess up. Maybe they keep misgendering their nonbinary friend and they feel guilty, or they want to take the burden off the nonbinary person who keeps having to correct them, something like that.

When binary people lack that confidence with pronouns, they seek the advice of nonbinary people. Not only are we likely to give advice that’s not ideal for binary people (because we’ve got skin in the game, all our friends are nonbinary so we’re used to it, etc.), but it is another facet of that dynamic of the privileged group (in this case binary people) placing their burden onto the marginalised group. Binary people should be asking advice from other binary people who’ve mastered pronouns.

So, I asked, and a bunch of binary people answered. I got advice from trans and cis binary people (men and women), and I’m collecting all the common stuff and the stuff I thought was good, all here for your perusal. If you know a binary person who’s struggling to get pronouns right, pass this along.

[This article assumes that you know a specific nonbinary person and you want to get better at using their pronouns, though the advice can be adapted. It also assumes that you’re familiar with the concepts of singular they and neopronouns, and you accept that they’re grammatically correct.]

Update: Now available as a printable on Google Docs, in case you need to hand it to someone in person!

PRACTISE

Something that came up over and over, from cis and trans people, was that just like learning anything language-related, practise is essential. And like anything language-related, it is definitely possible to learn!

“If you can get into a hobby like, say, knitting, and learn how to use 'knit' vs 'purl' vs 'cast' vs 'bind' and so on, you can absolutely learn whichever pronouns are correct for the people you talk to, or about and use them as needed.“ --An anonymous cisgender binary person.

Practise a little bit every day. Language is maintained through regular and habitual use. “Pure repetition leaves these pronouns on the tip on my tongue.” --Anonymous cisgender binary person

Talk about the person and use the correct pronouns. You can talk about them to yourself or to a non-judgemental friend. Do this while they’re not around, so they don’t feel uncomfortable. “It really helped me having a friend [to practise with] who I trusted to not judge me when I got it wrong.“ --An anonymous cisgender binary person.

Think about the person and use their pronouns. “I would narrate what they were doing in my head using their name and chosen pronouns, so like. ‘They sat down and opened their textbook for the class.’” --Mason

Write about someone and use the pronouns you want to learn. Something magical about writing fixes things in our memories. Write about the person whose pronouns you’re trying to learn, or write a story about a fictional person with those pronouns. Compose a selection of phrases that use all five forms of the pronoun, and write them down. Rewrite a passage of a book you’re reading with different pronouns. “Every time you bugger up someone's pronouns, write a paragraph about them in your journal as practice - just, like, nice things about them - and do make it about focusing on them and who they are, not at all about your mistake or punishing yourself for it.“ --Anna K

Listen to/read works by other people using the pronouns. Podcasts, YouTube, fiction and non-fiction books, newspaper articles, queer socials where folks have a lot of nonbinary friends...

“Practice getting it wrong as well as getting it right, so that you can correct yourself smoothly and automatically.” --Anna K

TRICK YOURSELF

"Imagine your friend has a tiny buddy on them, like a puppet in their pocket, and you're talking about your singular friend and their buddy, so: ‘them’. Eventually you'll get used to saying they/them/their.” --An anonymous cisgender binary person.

Draw on your prior experience. If you’re queer and you’ve had to do the Pronoun Dance when talking about your partners before, pretend to yourself that you’re deliberately hiding someone’s gender from the person you’re talking to. If you’re used to not knowing friends’ genders because you only know them online, pretend to yourself that you’ve never met your nonbinary friend AFK before. “The most effective way I can get myself in the mental frame to consistently use they/them pronouns for someone who I've previously known as she/her or he/him, is by thinking of it as like I don't wish to disclose this person's gender to the audience (even if the audience is myself, in my thoughts).” --S

Many people commented that tricking yourself often naturally and accidentally leads to...

CHANGE HOW YOU THINK ABOUT GENDER

“View the people you're talking about as people, and their gender(s) as valid. This is the most helpful thing.“ --Kaelen

Start using singular they when talking about people whose genders you don’t know. This was recommended by a LOT of binary people. It cements the idea that you can’t know someone’s gender or pronouns unless they’ve told you, and it detaches pronouns from gender presentation and your own assumptions based on appearance.

Research genders that defy the binary. Get comfortable with the subject, understand that what people tell you about themselves is important and personal to them, and accept that any gender that someone earnestly tells you they experience is valid.

Get used to the idea that you don’t know anyone’s gender until they tell you. “If I knew Shirley used they/them pronouns, I might slip and say ‘she is over there’ but if I train myself to believe I am not fully aware of their gender (only they are!) than I can say ‘they are over there’ more confidently and assured.” --Maria

Think of people as masculine and feminine instead of male and female. “Something that I'm sure also helps is seeing certain looks/types not as "male/female" but as fem/masc. There can be a masc female, a fem male, and so on and so forth.” --An anonymous nonbinary trans-masc person.

IN THE MEAN TIME

If you’re struggling, use the person’s name in a pinch. It’s better than misgendering them, and it can keep the natural flow of conversation going so that it’s not all about their pronouns.

When you mess up, correct yourself and move on. “I think I'm a lot less likely to make the same mistake again if I catch myself and amend it.“ --helen

Don’t say sorry, say thank you. "If you misgendered someone and are corrected pls say “thank you” rather than “I’m sorry” - apology forces that person to tell you it’s ok, which is strange. THANK YOU suggests that u understand it’s not okay and you’re grateful to have been corrected!” --Dan Owens on Twitter.

BE KIND TO YOURSELF

Accept that you’ll make mistakes and that’s okay. “There is no fast, there's no short cut for it except making sure you do it regularly, and correcting yourself when you inevitably get it wrong. It isn't actually a huge deal, most non-binary people recognise the difference between a slip up (particularly if you knew the person pre-coming out) and wilful misgendering.” --CJ Atkinson

Privately say/think kind things to yourself when you get it right. Learning new pronouns can be really hard and positive reinforcement is good for you!

Forgive yourself when you get it wrong. Don’t beat yourself up, because everyone gets it wrong sometimes and you can’t learn if you don’t make mistakes. “Don't punish yourself for slipping up. As long as you're trying you're good.” --An anonymous trans binary person.

Start easy and work up. “When it comes to neopronouns they become easier to use after learning they/them because you've already got a base to work off of, if you will.” --An anonymous nonbinary trans-masc person.

DON’T PUT IT ON THEM

It’s your responsibility. If you’re reading this then you probably already know this! No one should have to work to have their identity recognised and respected, no matter how uncommon their pronouns are. “Not putting the onus of correction on the person I've misgendered has been key for me.” --helen

Don’t ask a nonbinary person to correct you. It is exhausting and depressing to have to correct other people on your pronouns all the time. If you need someone to correct you, ask your binary friends to correct you and each other, whether the nonbinary person is within earshot or not.

Don’t talk to them about how hard their pronouns are. Nonbinary people have to deal with a steady stream of “I’m really sorry, I am trying but it’s just so hard.” We know it’s hard for some people and we get it, but we also know that it is possible and quite frankly, as the people in the middle ring of the Kvetching Order we’re not the ones you should be complaining to.

#original posts #gender #nonbinary #pronouns #resources

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inappropriate-skeletons-blog · 6 years

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So I'm thinking, as my request, uf papyrus punishing reader for cumming without permission, you're at his feet apologizing but he won't have it. he's using you like a footstool now and you've got vibrators in and on ur cunt, cumming over and over again since you love orgasms so much and have no discipline. you're a dripping mess and he couldn't care less, that is until he can't take watching u squirm and finally decides to bend u over and fuck you like the whore you are~ Hope u like that ideaðí ½

Hey dude! Sorry this took so long I had actually completed your request on Thursday but lost my save file on my laptop. I never use it but I wanted this to be good. I’ll just stick to using my memo pad.. Anyway, I do like how this turned out and I always adored Papyrus being some perverted freak because it resonates with my soul.I hope it feels the same for you. Reader/UF!Papyrus TW:Dubious Consent, Bondage, Mentions of Abuse Let me know if there are other triggers I should tag.

The work of living day by day in the Underground filled many souls with the need for new events. This in turn bred new plans and ideas to fight the dirt settling on their brains numbing them to the rush of adrenalin they need. The Royal Guard represented everything a monster was meant to be. Everything they do is precise and methodical with a strict rebuttal for failure. They were feared and venerated but most of all they were hated. None more so than the Great and Terrible Papyrus. He has killed many monsters without hesitation. He never flinched at their screams or gnashing teeth because in their eyes he saw a deep rooted fear they would never let go of. He hated those eyes. He wanted to stop them.

Not even his closest allie, Undyne the Undying, knew of his limitations. The sadness he would write in his journals at home in Snowdin. The loneliness that tugged at his very soul and played the strings like a harp. It burned him so and yet he could never change this. Change meant certain death for him and his brother. Everyday passes with a new way to wound but only one way to kill. He didn’t kill often but he wounded plenty. He sent children home blinded by a throwing bone. He cut tails from puppies just because a lesser dog made a simple error. This cycle forced Papyrus to find new ways to hurt and scar others.

He needed to keep up appearances but he was sick of it. Not even his own brother would understand. Unlike every monster there was a secret he kept locked away in his shed. A secret he found bleeding out deep in the forest. At first he had imagined it was dead but it took one painful breath that rocked its entire body. Whatever had done this was incapable of killing you off. Or perhaps believed humans to be weak. Seeing you half dead and buried in snow filled him with something new. The beating of his soul hammered away inside of him. A rush of magic ran through his bones and he knew right then that you were what he needed. You were the answer to his problems. He took you home and healed you before submitting you to unjust conditioning.

It was not long until you learned what he wanted and how he wanted it done. Your entire existence was waiting for Papyrus to return home to see you and you were often genuinely excited to see him. You had learned early that it was either him or no one. Papyrus had returned early today and he seemed particularly excited to see you. He held a small velvety bag in his phalanges. You could see small spikes straining against the bag. You watched as it dangled from his index finger and swung as he strode past you.

You followed after him feeling a little curious about what he had in that bag. Despite the abuse you had grown fond of this monster. All apart of his training but you were led to believe you were content. You watched closely as he opened the top. The strings of slid soundlessly open for him. Papyrus reached inside and picked up the spiky object. It was a bright purple toy tucked inside a silicone casing. The silicone was shaped with many small spikes. A small wire extended from the toy and ended with a small rounded piece. You started with furrowed brows as Papyrus let the bag slip from his hold.

Taking you by the arm he guided you over to your ‘bed’ he had set up not long after you came here. It was a wooden table with a bump in the middle. You prepared yourself for what was to come. He let go of your arm letting you get on to the table. You sat patiently waiting. He walked around the side, you laid down on the bump. You back was kept at an arch as your legs dangled from the table. As you settled into position Papyrus put your wrists through leather straps binding your hands together. He took his time walking toward the other end of the table. His eyes stayed on you eyeing you with lust and excitement.

Like always you saw the emotions behind that look. The want of pure control and the need for release. And within all this a sadness lurked in a place you will never reach. You were pulled from your thoughts as Papyrus cupped the bottom of your thigh and pushed it towards your chest. He grabbed a longer strap and wrapped it around your thigh before securing it through a buckle. He did the same for your other leg.

You’ve spent many nights in the same position as now. Your legs were held apart by leather that dug and pinched your skin whenever you moved. Your wrists were often left cut up and scarred and it never healed quite right. In this position you couldn’t fight him off of you. Papyrus was now bent over you grinding his pubis against your cunt. His bones followed the curves of your body slipping under your tattered sweater. The sweater was pulled and tucked under your chin. You shivered as your nipples were exposed to the cold air in the shed.

Papyrus was never the one for foreplay. He pulled away from you leaving you unsatisfied. You whined in discomfort as you wanted to feel him close to you. Papyrus placed the toy against your vulva and slowly dragged it down towards your clit. A spike flicked your clit but was quickly gone. You tried to peek over your crumpled sweater but of course saw nothing. The toy was pressing against your vagina now. The spikes weren’t as flexible as would have imagined. The gentle pushing caused the spikes to strain but keep it’s stiff shape.

Papyrus pressed a button turning on the small vibrator. Your back arched causing you to cringe. You lowered yourself back onto the bump as Papyrus teased your hole with the toy. He slowly pushed it inside of you for just a few seconds before slowly dragging it back out. The smaller studs at the top pressed against your walls. Your head rolled side to side when he pulled it out from you again. You had no time to react as he pushed the entire toy inside of your cunt. Caught by surprise you started with a squeal and ended with a breathy moan. The spiked pressed against your walls straining to keep its shape. Your rolled your hips and bucked wanting desperately for friction.

Papyrus turned the dial a bit higher. Your core tightened at the new sensation. A familiar feeling was building up inside of you as you bucked your hips. Your vagina tightened around the toy as you strained against your binding. Papyrus was staring at your face caught up in the look of pain as you came around the toy. Your breathing was labored and your back began to hurt from the bump. Papyrus was still staring at your face.

You whined and pulled weakly at the strap. Papyrus seemed to come to and looked down at your cunt. It was beginning to turn red around your outer labia. Your clit was left unbothered by the events. Cum dripped from your hole from the toy that was slipping out from you. It took a moment for him to compose himself. Papyrus placed a hand on your inner thigh. You winced your lower parts feeling a bit tender.

“I don’t recall letting you cum.” His voice was low and dangerous. You said nothing but waited. Papyrus has hurt you over small things before and each time was the last time you made those mistakes. You weren’t sure what he would do to you over this. You waited on baited breath. You nearly cried when he pushed the toy back inside of you. The small rounded piece you saw before was taped to your clit. You whined but Papyrus punched your stomach forcing you to be silent. Your muscles tensed from the impact. You swallowed your cries of pain as the spikes dug into your walls.

Papyrus turned the dial once again. He pulled up an olden wooden chair and sat down. He watched was your once exotic movements were overtaken with slight pain. Your hips rolled jerkily and your back arched painfully as your head pressed against the table. You pulled against the leather binds as the vibrator was turned up a bit more. He watched as you squirmed on the table trying to find a way to fix the pain. Papyrus quirked a brow as you came a second time. You groaned as your legs now shook from the pressure.

He pressed a button right above the dial to turn on the vibrator taped to your clit. He crossed his legs and watched as you choked on your words. Your thrashing only made him turn the vibrator up. You moaned and bucked your hips like the filthy human you are. He watched as you came once again. He was growing restless from hearing your needy moans of pain.

Papyrus walked over to where you lay. The chair fell backwards but you had little time to wonder what that meant for you. You screamed as he pushed his dick inside of you. You felt the toy being pushed deeper inside of you. Instead of it reaching your cervix Papyrus instead uses his ecto-penis to absorb it. He gave you no time to recover from your panic before he started to thrust.

Papyrus dug his phalanges into your inner thighs forcing your legs further apart as he slammed inside of you. You were filthy just by nature but Papyrus knew that he was even filthier. What monster would fuck a human like this? The thought felt deeply satisfying as he reached for your neck. He wanted to see you choke. Papyrus squeezed your throat as he picked up the pace. He felt disgusting and vile but it pushed further and further to the edge. He stared at your face as you sputtered and coughed twisting underneath him like a worm. He couldn’t hold off anymore. He watched as your eyes rolled back into your head as he let his cum fill your vagina.

Papyrus released his grip on your throat and watched as you struggle to catch your breath. Eventually you do and Papyrus slowly pulls out of you. Cum flows from your abused cunt as the toy slides out and onto the floor. Papyrus watches as it drips from you. The rounded vibrator had come undone from your clit. He stared at the mess he had made and can find only morbid fascination with the human body and its limits.

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toldentops · 6 years

Text

so uh

there’s this dude that i’ve been talking to for a bit and he was a nice guy and all but he keeps being whiny on deviantart about getting rejected by girls and he calls girls “females” and I honestly feel uncomfortable about him?? he made a journal abt how he’s been miserable and nobody likes him and the girl he liked rejected him. deadass this was the second time he asked this same girl and she rejected him again like dude can’t you take a hint?? This dude asked a girl out, she rejected him, he made a journal about “hmm maybe I should take a break” the writes another journal about how miserableh e is because he asked the same girl out and gets rejected. Honestly what the fuck man, you expect me to feel sorry for you?? then he writes a journal about how he got a girlfriend after he talked about “getting one” like he told me he was just in a rush to have a girlfriend and that honestly bothers me bc he actually confessed to me once about liking me. It was flattering, yes, but it felt so unreal and made up. He just. acts so desperate and yknow I was skeptical about him getting a girlfriend and he told me yesterday “yeah I just want one in the future” like man I get it but that’s all it seems like you’re focused on. dude, like let love come to you don’t go asking for it.

deadass he mentions everyone in the discord group “hey im single now” and it’s like bitch????/ it hasnt even been a week and he’s just BEGGING for attention.... and I told him “buddy why am I not surprised” like judging by the was he acts in his journals and when he talks to me, he just wants a girlfriend for the sake of having one

he just makes me uncomfortable in general because every time I get onto discord he messages me like “hewwo” or smthn and sometimes I just don’t feel like talking to him but it’s like he messages me the moment he knows I’m online...

I don’t feel sorry for him one bit. First of all, he’s got to get over rejection and not be whiny about it. He’s got to learn when to just stop. I’ll say that he’s admitted to his mistakes before about rejection but the moment he said that he had a girlfriend I just kinda was disappointed.

deadass his deviantart page says single:looking like buddy. come ON did you not learn anything at all??

More gripes down below, I just really wanna say everything

See the first time I ever talked to him was him asking for an art trade. He wanted an anthro milotic(which I said in my commission page that I did not do) and he asked if I did fetish art. I don’t know why I took it in, I just felt kind of uncomfortable about it. I asked him for a mlm scrafty and eelektross couple and he OK but in the description he said male scrafty and ambiguously gendered eelektross. Now, it wasn’t much of a problem but still. I had learned later from him that he doesn’t care for mlm porn, even though he was fine with gay. Here’s the thing, I wasn’t asking for porn, and if he was ok with gay ships, then he should have been fine putting “hey look here’s some gay pokemon” in the description.

He’s also said to me multiple times about how hot lesbian porn is and I’m like “OK” but it’s so clear that he’s fetishizing them. He’s got mostly female pokemon anthro ocs in skimpy outfits and to me, that’s a red signal right there. it literally says in his deviantart “i like to slap tits on pokemon” and I’m like, OOF....

it’s just so obvious that he fetishizes women., it’s gross.

he’s also got a foot fetish and yknow at the beginning of our conversation I was like well ok, and we both shared what turned us on and there was that mutual trust but one day he asked me to share photos of my feet and just the thought of him jacking off to my feet made me really uncomfortable. Every time I draw his characters he asks if I can show their feet. he’s also asked me to draw nsfw of his characters multiple times, Although I admit I never explicitly said “no” I always said that I was busy or whatever. I was never really against it but he’d always say u don’t have to if u don’t want to” and I’d say “yeah no i dont want to” but he’d ask again at some point like bro dont’ you know how to take a hint

there was always this uncomfortable tension in the conversation, it was always something along the lines of “hey (insert sexual thing here), and then Id be like “nah man im not up to it” and then hed be like oof ok sorry if u don’t wanna do it then u don’t have to but i’d love if you did” and it always felt like guit tripping of some sort. I don’t feel comfortable talking to him and I’d never know how to directly tell him “look I don’t wanna talk to you right now” and I didn’t want to make him feel like I hated him or didn’t care about him. but the more I interacted with him the more I began to feel skeptical of his character despite the many journals about how thankful he is about the people in his life and the apologies

idk if those apologies are good intentioned or just a tactic to guilt other people into feeling sorry for him or whatever.

So, jump to yesterday where he announces that he was single. all trust in him and his relationship just. dropped. He DID say that the girl just wan’t ready to have a relationship so based on what he told me it’s not really his fault, but just based on the way he acted he acted more liek “hhhhhH she dumped me lemme make everyone feel bad for me Hey guys i don’t wanna talk rn but i feel horrible and lemme just disappear” instead of “well she just wasnt ready and I understood that so we broke up”

Buddy if you were really sad and you really loved her you wouldn’t put “single and looking” on your fucking deviantart page. That’s honestly the last straw and I’ve given up on trying to deal with him. I told him straightforward “hey buddy you need to take a break” and he said something like “now’s not the time to tell me this u made me feel worse now” tell me that’s not guilt tripping. THis event is what made me tell you this, I felt the need to address this to you, listen here buddy you need to take a break. That is the point I was trying to get to him. I told him he comes of as desperate, straight and to the point. He told me that other people have told him that too. Buddy can’t you take a hint, like, at all??

To be fair, he does make journals saying “oh im sorry about the way I acted and I need yalls help for recovery” and my only thought is “hey maybe if you changed the way you act then maybe this wouldn’t happen again, hence me getting pissed at his “single and looking” status.

also, he kinda just turned 18 so he’s pretty much an adult. I just feel like he shouldn’t feel inclined to have a girlfriend, and the fact that we talked about nsfw stuff at all makes me feel uncomfortable.

the time when we talked were nice, but I just don’t want to talk to him or deal with him, but I also don’t want to regret it.

If anyone wants to see him journals or our conversations, PM me because I honestly don’t know what to do rn and yknow he seems to be completely over it now

the least I can do is protect his name

#al speaks #idk if I should block him or nah #but I seriously don't want to deal with him anymore #this is really personal oof sorry

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clove-teasdale · 6 years

Text

truths & lies

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge. OKAY Y’ALL, this takes place the same day as THIS FIC from @brooks-schreave but at night. if u want context re-read that. not entirely necessary if u remember what happened but leaving it there anyway. I hope this wasn’t too bad and I made it justice. thanks grace for the rp <3 ft. my guards and brooks. also, I needed a name at one point and was uncreative, sorry. over 3k words. forgive typos and stuff, enjoy! (and since it’s today, happy holidays!!)

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

I was turning around the last corner to my room when I heard the prince’s voice.

“Officers! A nice evening we're having…”

A small smile formed on my face as I watched Brooks talking with fake enthusiasm aimed at Barnes and Rogers. Seeing them patrolling around the hall was something I was used to by that point and they were quite the amusing pair. According to the maids, Rogers was in his first year of duty, a smart kid extremely loyal to the monarchy. Barnes, in contrast, had been serving for over a decade, already with a family of his own. His loyalty to the job.

Rogers immediately bowed to Brooks, not bothering to question why he’d start such a trivial conversation with them. “Absolutely, Highness.”

Barnes, however, only bowed politely. Sharp as ever as he asked if there was something they could help him with. “Oh, no, no…” Brooks said, kicking the ground, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be wondering why I'm here.”

Rogers shook his head, almost offended at the thought of being considered so disrespectful. “Oh, but it's your palace.”

“It's the floor of the Selected,” Barnes interjected, suspicion and disapproval noticeable before he quickly added, “But it is not our place to wonder, Highness.”

Subtle, Barnes. I walked the rest of the way to my room, getting closer to them quietly. This was sure to be an entertaining conversation, our conspiring could wait.

“Glad you asked!” Brooks clapped his hands together, smiling awkwardly. “I am just checking up on things, being a good guy. I am in no way here to see anyone specific.”

Barnes raised his brows and I shook my head. I had guessed he was a bad liar before, but he was worse than I’d expected.

“You shouldn't worry about that, Highness,” Rogers began, oblivious to Barnes' suspicion, “we're doing our job well, I assure you. You can go on about your day and let us worry about the guarding.”

“For once my partner is right,” Barnes eyed the prince warily, “you should not concern yourself which such trivial things, but it's very... kind of you.”

“I want to be a guard!" Brooks blurted out, practically irradiating panic as he nodded to himself. "Th-that's why I'm here. I'm practicing.”

I rose both eyebrows, almost facepalming before the need to laugh hit me. I contained it though. “You wanna be a what now?”

Barnes and Rogers both looked at him with their own shocked expressions. “That’s unexpected, Highness.”

“That’s an understatement,” Barnes mumbled.

“Yeah, I've just always been fascinated with the... brute work.”

Brooks’ act was crashing and I snorted at the sight. “I hardly think it’s polite of you to call it brute... Highness.”

He turned to fully face me. “Clove, what a coincidence!”

One of my eyebrows went up as I watched him walk over, trying to hide my amusement as I grinned, “Is it?” His eyes narrowed.

“You're right, it isn't,” shaking his head solemnly, he faced the guards, “we're lovers meeting for our nightly tryst.”

My eyes widened before I glared at him, taking a step closer as a silent threat. You little... Fixing a smile on my face, as if that were the type of joking I approved of him, I let out a fake laugh. I punched his arm in faux playfulness though. “How funny, Brooks.”

He grabbed his arm, doing his best to pull up a smile through the pain. “I am a jokester.”

I spared him one last glare, then smiled politely at Barnes and Rogers. “He probably just needs help with that...Spanish homework of his.”

Officer Rogers tilted his head. “Don't you have tutors, Highness?”

“The prince is too shy to ask for help, aren't you Brooks?” I countered.

We didn’t need an awkward pause of Brooks debating what to say, and besides, it was my turn to embarrass him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Brooks had no other option than to whisper it was true so the dreadful exchange could be over.

“Oh, deeply sorry, Highness. We didn't know,” Rogers apologized quickly. Barnes narrowed his eyes, seeming not quite sure if he should believe it but bowed anyway. “We'll leave you to it.” He spun on his heel to leave and Roger followed quickly with, “At your service, if you ever need it.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Brooks sighed and I reached for his arm to shove him in the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, that weird need to laugh taking over again. This time I let myself do so.

“Stop laughing.” Brooks crossed his arms. “That wasn't funny.”

I ignored him, of course. “You want to be a guard?” I made a face of fake disbelief, bringing a hand to my chest. “How incredibly humble of you.”

“You're amused, aren't you?”

I was. Very much so. Faking a more serious tone I continued, “Brute force is so very important on the life of a guard. I'm glad you are aware of it.” My chuckling became softer as my amusement subsided. It was a little strange to tease him just for the sake of it instead of the usual sting I used when he was being a jerk, but I wasn't about to complain about witnessing such a priceless scene.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that.”

Meeting his gaze, I managed to stop laughing, realizing this was Brooks. I composed myself and cleared my throat. “Yeah, well... anyway....” I walked to the closet, searching for my box hidden behind some shoes. Taking it to the room, I set the box on the bed and opened it to reveal a couple of old magazines, my random sheets with notes, the journal he'd given me from the library, and my own notebook.

Picking up the journal, I flipped through the first pages. “It's been proving a little hard to read, in all honesty, but I've figured out the first chapters in my spare time the last two days.” I handed him the journal opened on the first margin annotation and then reached for my notebook in the box. “This is what I've got so far. I haven't gotten to the details of how they do it yet,” that was in further chapters, “but I'm pretty sure they don't leave the Selection to chance anymore.”

I handed him my notebook opened on my progress. It wasn't much, but there were readable transcriptions of the first Spanish annotations from the margins of the journal, then translations underneath and my own notes for context.

To avoid wasting time reading all of them, he asked, “What does it say?”

“Basically, it seems they consider the royal bloodline to be of utmost importance and therefore thought of it wise to further consider who is worthy enough to produce an heir.” I rolled my eyes as I explained, understanding the concern to some level, but knowing caste alone did not define worthiness. It was about finding the right person and choosing wisely. Heart and mind. “Of course, the whole charade of the Selection is that it's equal and impartial. Letting a daughter of Illéa join the highest of ranks and bring a voice to the people. That means they can't really be openly selective of who is allowed to join and who isn't.” The journal was proof that that didn’t stop them, however.

“But does the heir still have a choice?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he meant Nate. “I doubt he's aware... Your father on the other hand…”

He closed his eyes. I understood that disappointment well. “That's what I thought. Do you think your dad knows?”

Clenching my jaw, I looked away. “I'm afraid to say it's very likely most of the advisers know.”

Even without reading more of the journal, I knew Dad had to be involved. It would be foolish to deny it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the strings of logic weaving in my head, creating a fuller picture. Wilson called it my double-edged sword. You can't always hold on to hope when the reality is hitting you right in the face. Just like I had been unable to pretend I didn't notice Miss Grundy's strange mannerisms whenever parent-teacher conferences came along.

A hand on my back broke my thoughts. “Hey, we don't know if this is still going on, and if it is, on the bright side, I guess you're considered worthy.”

He was trying to be nice, but a dry laugh left my mouth either way as I stepped away from his hand. “How fortunate to be defined by a number.” I knew he was trying to be nice. To joke, be light-hearted. Sadly for him, I wasn’t the best when it came to people comforting me.

Actually, I probably wasn’t the best at comforting others either. Not in the most conventional of ways at least. I chewed the inside of my cheek, muttering, “I didn't think he was that type of person.” Then shaking my head, I focused back on the box. There was no point in sulking. I just had to push it aside.

With the help of the palace library, I’d found a book on the analysis of handwriting. There were a couple of general markers that people used to figure out psychological aspects of who’d been holding the pen, but some were also used to predict the probable gender of the writer. I had printed out pictures I’d taken from the book, showing stroke samples and statistics.

Standing next to Brooks so he could compare the writing in the journal, I steered our conversation back to the research. “I have no clue who wrote this since it was years ago, but considering the way of the strokes it was very likely a man.”

“I take offense to that remark.”

“Great. That's extra points for it being an accident.”

He smiled at my quick retort. “How many points were earned for the slap?”

I looked at him surprised, holding back a grin by pressing my lips together and pushing him away, taking the journal in the process. “That was your own fault.”

“Maybe so, but violence is never the answer.”

“Fair point.” I wasn’t about to argue against it, so instead, I said the truth with a shrug. “I was in a bad mood.”

“I was trying to provoke you.”

Faking a gasp, I gave him a perplexed look. “Were you really?!” Then letting my expression fall flat, “What a plot twist.”

He laughed, which wasn't too bad a sound, bumping shoulders with me as he kept a smile on. “It's how I show I care.”

I scoffed. “That's a stupid way of showing it.”

“Next time, I'll just shower you with compliments. Promise.”

“Sure. Let's see if you don't die from such a hardship.”

His eyes brightened for some reason as he leaned towards me, acting dramatically. “Oh, my dearest Clove, how your smile shines like the sun.” I raised an eyebrow and he leaned closer, looking at the ceiling and clutching his chest. “Your voice is like a song and I'm addicted to the melody.”

I crossed my arms and countered, “Max said my name alone was like music.”

He looked back down at me with a small smile. “And how right he was.”

I did my best not to seem too amused as I narrowed my eyes. This is probably how he acts around Eloise. I feigned suspicion, lifting my chin. “So this is how you get all the other girls to like you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, they can't contain themselves.”

“Are you admitting you've been flirting with the Selected?”

“Absolutely. I just can't help it.”

I chuckled at his persistence to keep this going. Though I wasn’t sure what it even was. Joking? Acting like decent human beings around each other for once? “What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped, leaning back. “You told me to be nice.”

“Oh, sorry,” I joked, aiming for the harmless teasing from earlier, “I thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary. It's unexpected I must admit.”

He tilted his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ve implied it before and so far, before today, you’ve failed.”

“You looked like you needed cheering up.” I could only blink at him after that, taken aback by his admission. I hadn’t thought he would actually notice, let alone help.

I’d had lunch with my dad the previous day, unable to cancel even if the last thing I wanted to do was face him after the journal. He’d lied to my face and there was nothing I could say about it. I had to act like everything was okay. Like I didn't know what he was involved in.

Pushing down the wave of anger at the memory of sitting with him and laughing at his jokes, I closed my eyes and let silence fill the room. Brooks and I would figure out the truth. Somehow, eventually, we would have the needed proof.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at him, allowing myself to smile, yet it turned into a full-on grin as I shook my head. The dork and I working together. Who would’ve thought? I tilted my head in his direction, watching him for a moment. “Thanks, then.”

He smiled back, some sort of pride lighting up his features, “Anytime.”

Mere seconds later, however, he looked away, hands fidgeting. I scratched the back of my neck, awkwardness rubbing off on me too. Change of subject it is. “So, what are we planning to do with this information once we've got more figured out?” I thought about it for a second. “I want others to know.”

“Wow, Teasdale. Looks like we agree. Let's hope the world doesn't end.”

“Dramatic much?” I asked, but he claimed to be a dramatic person on a regular basis. I said I used 'annoying' as his usual adjective and he brought some sarcasm into the mix by calling me ‘absolutely delightful’. “I see the compliments keep coming. Trying to keep me in a good mood?”

That finally got him flustered. “Y'know this is harder than it looks. I don't know how to act around you. I jus-I'm a little lost here.”

“And you think I know?" The need to defend me took over. Little kids arguing. "Before the library, the last thing you let me know was how no one wanted me around. Not precisely the most welcoming of statements.” He froze, stuttering and I sighed. “Just save it, Brooks. Point is I'm entitled to my skepticism, and as you said before, we weren't precisely friends in the past. You had no reasons to argue with me or accuse me of anything and yet you still did so.” Maybe I was a little angry about it. “I don't even know why.”

He looked down with frustration, but composed himself quickly, meeting my gaze again. “I know I haven't been the most polite, or chivalrous, o-or decent man to you.” He closed his eyes. “You have to understand, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why it's aimed towards you. I'm sorry.”

I stared at him as he kept his eyes shut, seeming far too embarrassed to look at me. Part of me couldn't believe he’d actually apologized. I wasn't sure if it was the most eloquent of apologies, but there was truth behind his words.

When he kept his eyes closed, I took a moment to think about how to reply. I wasn’t sure if this meant we could try to be friends now--an idea he’d completely loathed years back--but maybe, for the sake of our teamwork, we would have to avoid killing each other before getting answers.

Reaching for a pillow, I threw it at him. “That's my acceptance of your apology. You can open your eyes now.”

He opened them cautiously. “You've gotten violent.”

“It was that or…” I walked over and paused, reconsidering one last time before offering a hand for him to shake. “Clove Teasdale.” It was the same greeting I’d made the first time we’d met. When we were both just two freckled three-year-olds.

Back then he’d refused to accept it. Today he didn’t. “Brooks Schreave.”

I kept eye contact as he held to my hand, waiting for him to shake it and pointing out, “The pillow was more fun.”

He squeezed slightly. “Can't say I enjoyed it as much as an alternative response.”

“Like hitting you with two pillows?” I suggested. He gave me a flat look that made me grin. “I figured.”

His hand didn't move to shake, but he didn’t let go either so I glanced down at our joined hands. Uh... when I met his gaze again he was still looking directly at me, his expression awkward as I was getting used to at that point.

Not knowing what to do, he started swinging our hands. “I don't know how to stop. I feel like it'll make things awkward.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up. I hoped he didn’t feel like I was making fun of him, this was just a side of him I’d never seen before. “More awkward than to keep holding hands? Should I help you out?”

He nodded. “We'll both let go on the count of three.”

“One,” I began, “two,” he continued.

“Three,” I let go. He didn’t.

Well.

He snatched his hand back. “Whoops, made that worse.” I rolled my eyes and hit him with the pillow again after picking it up. He stumbled back. “That's not a soft pillow!” Then, attempting to take the cushion away, he accidentally pulled me with it.

Letting go of the pillow quickly, Brooks caught me before I could stumble forward, but in the process, Mr. clumsy decided to slip on the fallen pillow. My eyes widened as I placed hands out in front of me, hoping not to fall flat on my face. He swiftly shifted our positions to cushion my fall, however, groaning as I fell on his chest instead of the floor. “Shoot.”

Idiot. I moved off him, resting my back on the floor and admiring the ceiling. “You’re horrible.”

He ignored that and joked by saying I had a nice ceiling. I said it wasn’t mine, but he argued it was "for the time being."

“Wonder how long that’ll be.” After the discovery of the journal I hoped I'd be able to stay long enough to figure that out.

“You'll probably be here for a while, logs.”

I narrowed my eyes at his tone. “You’ve never called me that.”

“That's because it's stupid.”

I scoffed, lifting my upper body with the help of my elbows. “We were like 5.” I couldn’t tell if there was anger or annoyance in his gaze at the ceiling, but the word jealousy, also crossed my mind as I remembered my conversation with Quinn. I still couldn’t believe Brooks could have had a crush on me once, but if he had…

“You were clearly in love with him then," he stated, and I knew he meant Nate as he leaned up on his elbows too, locking eyes with me, "but tell me, are you now?”

I decided to keep the discussion civil as we’d failed to do in the past regarding this topic. “I’ve never been in love.” With Nate or otherwise.

“Me neither.”

“Then why do you assume I was?”

“Childhood infatuation is a common thing,” he explained, speaking a little lower.

“Infatuation is stupid.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “it is.” He was leaning closer, I could tell. He’d been moving in since the moment he’d sat up.

I frowned at the shift in the room, his face only an inch away. He was too close. What are you-... I opened my mouth but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“LADY CLOVE, DID YOU EAT DINNER?” I almost laughed at the sound of Barnes. Brooks stopped getting closer and moved away, looking down with a sigh as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Yelling back at Barnes on the other side of the door, I said, “I did!” And gave my current companion a suspicious glance.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VISITOR?” Barnes called again. “MAYBE HE SHOULD LEAVE TO GET SOME FOOD.”

I silently questioned Brooks about what he’d thought he was doing as I replied, “Yes, maybe.” His blue eyes met mine without an answer.

“I heard dinner was quite delicious, Highness. You should check it out.”

“I'm sure it was,” the prince called back. To me, he added, “I think I should go.” Standing up, he gave me a slight nod before walking to the door, opening it and offering Barnes a smile as the guard moved aside to let him pass, bowing. I watched as his back disappeared with a raised eyebrow, unsure if I should let myself assume anything.

Then my expression was for Barnes as he stood by the door. “What was that all about?”

“General concern for your eating habits, Lady Clove. You’ve already skipped breakfast today I was told.”

Yeah, right. I’d gotten food with Eloise later anyway. “Officer Barnes?”

He pressed his lips together, but when I didn’t let him go he simple admitted, “I know what it’s like to be his age.”

I rolled my eyes. Jacinda had mentioned the officer had a soft spot for protecting people easily whether he liked to admit it or not. A lot of the younger staff members looked up to him because he looked out for them.

"It's not like that," I mumbled, but even as I said it, I stared back into the room. At the fallen pillow I'd hit Brooks with.

It couldn’t be.

#brooks tag #NEXT FIC IS THE SLEEPOVER #THEN CHRISTMAS STUFF #LOTS OF THAT LOL #author #im excited #barnes and rogers tag #//fics #//not a challenge

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sadrien · 7 years

Text

prince of cats

chapter one: if i profane with my unworthiest hand

on ao3 || on ffnet

[full note on ao3]

it been a journey to get here. i started outlining in november.... i'm really excited that i'm finally able to share it with everyone! this fic was inspired by two (2) posts. one of which was this video of salem the glittery cat

shoutout to everyone in the miracusquad who was online when i started talking about this! thank you for letting me idea bounce/dump, and thank you for being so supportive in general <3 shoutout to my @mlfanfiction fam for not yelling at me when they realize that i had many other things i was supposed to be doing in november. things that were not this fic.... i love you guys and finally, massive shoutout to @ladriened!!! thank you for your endless support kc <3

last quick thing! im going to be using these tags for this fic: 'proc ml' and 'prince of cats ml'. obviously i wasnt going to use poc and prince of cats is already used for half a dozen other things because...shakespeare

enjoy!!!!

Marinette hums to herself as she hauls her bag up on her shoulder and flicks off the lights in her apartment. For once, she got a decent amount of sleep and she actually ate breakfast this morning, so today is already better than most. Now if she can get the stitching on this new jacket done before lunch…

She pauses to check her phone as she closes the door behind her. Nothing surprising, nothing pressing. Alya confirming lunch like she does every week and insisting Marinette bring juicy gossip to the table. Marinette rolls her eyes as she turns the key in the lock. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Alya, work has been drama free lately. A nice breath of fresh air after a tense argument between two other designers that ended in screaming a few weeks ago. For days after, the workroom was stifling and awkward. Marinette is glad she has nothing to bring to Alya. Besides, Alya will have more enough to say on her own.

Marinette looks up in surprise as she spots movement out of the corner of her eye. She blinks as a black cat leaps up onto the sill of the window at the end of the hall. The cat sits up and licks it paw, shimmering gold in the morning light.

“Huh.” Marinette stuffs her keys into her bag and inches closer to the cat. A golden cat, that’s…odd. She didn’t even realize anyone on this floor had a cat. She glances over her shoulder as a door swings shut and someone swears. She sees the cat jump down from the window out in her peripheral vision and run toward the stairs. Marinette takes another step into the center of the hallway with half a mind to follow it.

Instead, someone crashes into her.

Marinette stumbles backward, her legs tangling with theirs. She groans as she hits the floor hard, banging her elbow on the ground. She winces as the person above her apologizes profusely.

“I-I’m so sorry, so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Marinette stares at him, heart in her throat. His face is flushed and his blond hair falls in his eyes, eyes so green that spring itself would be jealous.

He stops talking and she forces herself to look away from his eyes. Instead she studies his coat, long and dark with impeccable stitching. She tries to come up with a price range for a trenchcoat of this quality to distract herself from the fact that his hands are bracing either side of her head and they’re incredibly close for two complete strangers.

“H-hi,” she stutters.

He blinks. “Uh…hey.” His eyes go wide as a meow echos through the stairwell. “Shit!” he whispers, scrambling to his feet. He runs a hand through his hair, making it puff around his head like a halo, and offers Marinette his other hand. She hesitates for a moment before taking it, letting him tug her to her feet. “Nice to meet you, I have to go!” he says as he sprints toward the stairs. He hooks onto the wall and skids as he turns the corner into the stairwell.

It takes Marinette a moment to realize her bag has spilled all over the hallway floor.

She tries to shake the stranger and his sparkling cat from her mind as she picks up her things and hurries to work. She drowns herself in fabric and sketches, but she can’t get his face out of her mind. When she picks up a pencil to work on a dress design, she finds herself itching to trace out his profile and the curl of his hair.

Marinette groans and puts her head down on her sketchbook. She’s twenty four! She’s a grown woman with a job and an apartment and a social life. She should be over the collège crush phase, but here she is. Obsessing over someone she hasn’t even exchanged names with. Strangers have caught her eye before, a smile making her heartstrings twinge or bright eyes causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach, but she hasn’t experienced something like this in years. All feelings and mush and sudden wooshes of emotion that make her feel like she’s floating.

This is ridiculous.

Marinette texts Alya, because she needs to be grounded, stat. She doesn’t have time to be moon eyed over a guy, no matter how tall and handsome.

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Are we still on for lunch??? Like 1000000%?? (I know you confirmed earlier I just need like. Another confirmation sorry)

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess of course!!! arent u at work?

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful :P Yes

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess something up??

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Yes but Im saving it for lunch The usual??

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess gotcha yes!! see u in a bit! <3

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful See you then!

Marinette puts down her phone and gives in. When she returns to actual work, the stranger’s face covers two pages of her sketchbook.

✦ ✦ ✦

Thoughts of the stranger vanish from Marinette’s mind as Alya practically collapses in the seat across from her.

“Are you alright?” Marinette asks, reaching out to touch the back of Alya’s hand.

“I hate my job,” Alya groans. She drops her head down on the table with a thump.

Marinette rolls her eyes but pats the top of Alya’s head anyway. “You love your job.”

“Not today,” Alya mutters. “I’m going to set this entire article on fire.”

“That bad?”

“Yes. I just— words? Sources? Journalism? It’s all horrible.” Alya sighs and wallows for another moment before sitting up. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to talk about?” she asks.

The stranger’s eyes appear in Marinette’s mind and suddenly, under Alya’s gaze, it all seems incredibly trivial. Marinette knows Alya would willingly listen to her talk about the weather and be completely invested in the conversation, but she can see the way work is weighing on Alya’s shoulders. Marinette can feel it weighing on her own. She wouldn’t be lying if she said thinking about the stranger was a good way to procrastinate.

Marinette glances down at the menu, even though she already knows exactly what she’s getting. “Same as you; work. This new line is possibly going to kill me.”

Alya nods in agreement. “Right there with you, girl.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette stands in the hallway in front of her apartment for much longer than she usually does. Usually, she’s dead on her feet and ready to sleep. Recently, she’s been working longer and longer hours to work on the newest clothing line. But today she’s wired and awake. And has been standing in the hallway fumbling for her keys for almost ten minutes.

She shakes her head as she slides her key into the lock and twists it until she hears the click. She’s an adult, not a teenager. She needs to pull herself together. She also needs a glass of wine and Netflix. She pushes the door open and flicks on the lights in her apartment. Just as she’s stepping inside, the apartment door next to her opens and a tall, blond man steps out, holding a phone to his ear and keeping his eyes cast to the floor as he locks the door behind him.

Marinette scrambles to shut her apartment door, her heart beating in her ears. She feels like she was just caught staring, even though he hadn’t even glanced her way.

Right. So her immediate next door neighbor that she never bothered to meet is her handsome stranger from earlier. Of course. That makes sense, she knows almost everyone else on the floor.

She sighs and rests her forehead against the door. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs to herself.

She toes off her shoes, changes into pajamas, and collapses on the couch with her laptop, her tablet, and a glass of wine. The bottle sits on the coffee table in front of her and she’s sorely tempted to just drink straight from the bottle. The past few weeks have been overwhelming and dealing with a crush on top of it—

Marinette isn’t sinking that low. Not yet.

(She hears Alya in her head insisting that drinking wine from the bottle isn’t a low point. She hears Alya say it as she hands Nino and Marinette their own glasses before taking a long sip from the bottle. “I feel like a teenager again,” Alya says with a bright smile and knocks the bottle against Nino’s glass.)

Marinette turns on the TV and chooses a show to start binging at random. Then she makes herself comfortable with her tablet and computer and lets her mind wander as she draws whatever comes to mind. Dresses and jackets start to form on the blank canvas of her screen. The swoops of skirts and the curls of hair. The straight lines and sharp curves forming themselves into clothes and people and expressions and accessories.

Marinette finds herself using an awful lot of green.

#marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #alya cesaire #ml fanfic #proc ml #prince of cats ml

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killcapitalizm · 7 years

Text

the louvre (no tw); peter parker

request; can you do an imagine where reader has a crush on peter even though he and michelle were dating in high school (which makes the reader distance themselves from the group) and after they graduate, peter finds them and says that he and michelle didn’t work out? then the reader finds out it was because he liked the reader the whole time. sorry if this is confusing and super long!!

word count; 2,981

warnings; angst, this wasnt edited

a/n; SSCREAMS IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ugh im disappointed in myself.. theres gonna be more parts to this im currently writing the next one dw. listened to the louvre by lorde while writing this. love u

tags; @kaliforniacoastalteens

Your name: submit What is this?

You had supposedly gotten over Peter a few months ago, when you'd accepted the fact that he and MJ– or rather, Michelle, you remembered, she's Michelle to me now, isn't she– were dating and you'd finally ceased intentional contact with him after painfully long weeks of being too busy, too sick, too tired, too hurt; and you have yet to admit that last one. With Peter's absence of course came Michelle's, they were a couple and therefore somewhat of a packaged deal. That was no surprise to you, when you regretfully unwound yourself from Peter you had known that you'd lose Michelle, too. What you hadn't expected was the sudden absence of Ned– someone who you had grown quite close to. Even Liz was separated from you, so subtly you nearly hadn't noticed she was gone. In the first few seconds of hurt and loneliness and confusion, you were awfully lost. But then you considered: you met Ned and Liz through Peter and indeed they were closer to him than you'd ever be, ever been. And so you start from scratch.

You tried your absolute best to make some friends in each of your classes. You swallowed that familiar feeling of fear-filled blankness and managed to talk to one person in each of your classes. They all had their own pre-established friend groups that you knew you wouldn't be able to be a part of, but you gratefully settled for acquaintances that would give you a partner in class and someone to ask for notes when you were out for a day or two. You lived without a friend for the last four months of your senior year, right up to graduation where you saw Peter and Michelle kiss under the shade of a city tree in front of the school and then you caught Ned's eye later and his mirrored yours, but softer. Never before had you weeped over being unable to text a friend about how entirely shitty you felt because your mother was angry again and, more importantly, you missed them, but in that summer you stained your pillow at midnight as your back and legs and chest ached as if they were holding your bruising sorrows. Your parents weren't home that night when you were crying, crying for hours into the early, early morning. You cried until you had no more tears to cry, and you simply wailed to yourself, exhausted an drowsy but unable to sleep because you felt too terrible to be able to rest. Those kinds of nights don't happen often but you hate that they happen at all.

On your first day of your new job at a popular bookstore, you were glad it was chilly so that your red eyes and nose and cheeks were excusable. You brought eye drops and hoped the red would drain from your face before anybody noticed that it wasn't the cold causing it and you told yourself that if it did fade then you wouldn't have that night for another two months, and when you walked in you saw no one you knew until you turned your head and saw Ned, you saw Ned in the soft yellow light of the morning and you nearly cried because you saw him like that many times before, with Peter at sleepovers when you'd wake up early and again with Peter again when you'd walk to school with them. He saw you and smiled at you, and didn't look away in that don't-talk-to-me way but instead he glanced down at the empty area next to him behind the register then back up at you. You were terrified in that anxious, empty way but you yearned for a familiar friendship, so you walked over to him and spoke too much right away.

"I've missed you." You didn't sound polite or happy and that's what made it sincere.

"Oh, thank god," Ned says. "I thought it was one-sided."

"Is it?" You ask still, but you're smiling brightly for the first time since you cleared your phone contacts.

Ned snorts. "I would assume you'd infer from what I said that it's not, but whatever. I've missed you, too."

It was in that moment that Ned forgave you; in the same moment he realized there was anything to forgive you for. While Peter had dejectedly told him you were probably avoiding him because of something he did (Ned knew it was because he was together with MJ), he had still missed you without an answer, missed you in the same way you'd miss a friend the night after a sleepover, when you turn in your bed in heavy solitude and whisper to the wall that they hadn't slept next to, because if you'd look to the space where their mumbles had been then you wouldn't sleep all night. Your absence had him turn over to the wrong wall, and that hurt him.

You remember the time Ned had accidentally tripped you in gym class back in your junior year and you saw him nearly cry, then you spoke again. "I'm sorry." For what, Y/N? You try again, "I'm sorry for leaving you and not talking to you. That you had to miss me. I missed you a lot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," says Ned, "I forgive you." He forgave you twice, because he hadn't realized how satisfyingly pleasant it feels when someone doesn't have to apologize but they do with their heart.

"Thank you," you say, because he welcomed you after you had cut him off for so long and he shouldn't have smiled so dearly at you, and you're grateful.

Ned helps you with your new job that day, then that week, and into the next week. You add his number back onto your phone and write it down in your journal that you've stopped writing in ever since Peter told you with so much joy and love that he was dating Michelle. You try not to think of them, just of how much you missed him and her each as their own. If you think of them, then that night you'd weep and weep until you felt so pained and sick that you shook, curling up and holding yourself as you hoped you'd fall asleep. You don't tell Ned about those nights and you don't ask about them, you don't ask about Peter at all but you know he's talking about him when he says "my friend," or more often, "a buddy of mine."

But Ned is smart, and he knows you had liked Peter back then and because you never ask about his friend (he knows that you know who he's talking about), he knows you like him now. He also knows that Peter and MJ broke up, he knows why and how and when and where and the boy was a boy of the Earth, he is rooted to the ground and because of that he knows it's not his place to tell you all of that. Ever-growing with the kindest smile, he knows that Peter needs to tell you himself if you're to ever know. And he wants you to know, so he decides that five weeks of talking daily with you, after reattaching yourself to him and him to you, that he'd start to reconnect you and Peter. He starts off conveniently.

"Look, dude, just get it over with and you'll feel better… What? Peter, no, you need a job, you're eighteen now–" Ned spots you walk in early one Thursday morning and talks just loud enough into his phone so that you could hear him say Peter. Surely enough, you duck your head as if you hadn't been listening. His name out of Ned's mouth, so bright like you remembered it, twists your heart. "Hey, man, I gotta go and you do too. You got this, I know you do. See ya'."

You stop beside Ned as he hangs up and tucks his phone into his back pocket. As always, you greet him with the biggest smile you can manage. These days, it's been some of your brightest, full ear-to-ear grins, but today you barely show your teeth. He notices and for a second he rethinks his plan, but you still love Peter and he knows he loves you too so he keeps going. "What was that all about?" You instantly regret that, but it flew out of your mouth before you could think of another conversation starter.

"Peter, actually," he does his best to sound gentle, but you inhale sharply at his name anyway. "He's going for a job interview later today and he's panicking again. As always. But I know he'll do just fine."

You were silent for a second too long, quickly spitting out something when you realized it. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, he was always like that… panicky. 'N stuff. Before things. He always did good and… yeah." You straighten your back and shift your weight from leg to leg, a poor attempt at looking casual that really just made you look just as nervous as you felt. You were looking down at Ned's shirt with a pleading gaze that he surely saw, begging him silently to just leave it be, to change topics, to not say his name again. He saw all of that, but he knew he had to.

He looked sympathetically at you as he spoke again, "Speaking of him, I think we should all meet up sometime or whatever. It's been a really long time since we hung out." He sounded like he was hurt, feeling awful for putting this on you but knowing it'll end up better in the end if you're willing to work with him.

You, on the other hand, sounded genuinely wounded. "Y-Yeah." You nearly wheezed. Unconsciously, your hand rested on your hip, angled so that your palm was more on the back of your hip. Ever since you could remember, emotional stress would center at your back and slowly start to crawl down your limbs. Always starting in your lower back, it ached with whatever you felt, then burned its way up, making the spot between your shoulders sore, then shooting down to your legs. If Ned insisted on talking about this for very long, you'd have to bring a stool to the register with you today. "I mean, I don't really think… he'd want to see me. After what I did."

"Actually, he really misses you." Gosh, he was trying so hard to be soft, but it felt like he was smothering you with a pillow. While he wasn't lying, he hadn't actually told Peter he's been hanging out with you. "He'd love to meet up sometime– I'll ask him later today. You can set the date."

"He…" misses me? you finish in your head. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing up your neck and kicking your brain, then rushing back down before starting again. You were growing a bit of a headache, maybe from staying up late last night but maybe the aches were skipping your limbs today and getting right to your head, towards the back where it wouldn't let you lay down on your back later. "Uh… Yeah. Y-Yeah, I'll– I… Sure. Sometime."

Ned watched your discomfort with a wince that went unnoticed. He reminded himself it would get worse before it got better. "Anyway, we should start preparing. We open in an hour," he said, trying to edge you away from the topic, although it was too late to stop the images and memories of Peter from firmly planting themselves in your head. You nodded once, slightly, then again with more motion. That day, you made sure to never be seen without a water bottle so that you had an excuse when someone asked you why you were going to the bathroom so much. You'd go when your started thinking too much, to the point that it interfered with your ability to shelve books and even think to yourself a single, coherent thought. You'd excuse yourself, rush in, and find yourself gasping for air that you hadn't realized you lost.

You went home that day feeling more alone than not, despite the sudden vague reconnection with Peter. But you shouldn't be surprised, the thought of the boy has been a presence of loneliness for a while now. When you think of him, it's as if you're thinking yourself into a void, where you detach from the Earth, as if you exist in your body but your body does not exist in the world and it simply moves around in it. Sometimes you suspect that because you feel something so drastic and real that Peter wasn't the only cause of it, but it did you better to not think too deeply so that you don't return to work the next day with red eyes and darkish bags that hung underneath them. You went home that day and asked Ned to call you, because you hid your tears from him and knew that if he were with you in any way that you would be able to keep your promise of two months of freedom. When Ned was gone, you moved to the TV to distract you. Then you pulled out your phone and decided to read something, then opened up your laptop to watch a YouTube video, and after a minute you retrieved a book to read and a comic to look at– you were doing everything and nothing at once but what you weren't doing was sobbing and that was, in the end, what you wanted. You trembled a bit when you settled in bed that night, your body detached from the Earth for a while when you panicked in your (too) many thoughts of Peter and other things, although you don't remember what those other things are because its easier to just say one thing, despite him being the hardest thing to say at all. You had to stumble out of bed and lay on the ground– on your side because the very back of your head still hurt– look at things in your room one at a time, then listen to things outside one at a time, tell yourself what apricots and your favorite tea taste like before you could finally feel the carpet beneath you again. Your head spun with busyness and contradictions as you got back in bed, but you slept right away and that was all left to touch in the morning.

And Ned was true to his word; when he had to hang up to catch a bus, he made sure to text Peter when he got a seat. It took him ten tries, but he decided to bluntly tell Peter that he's been talking to you, and then gently ease into his proposal of hanging out again. Then, because he stayed with Peter in those months you were gone, he felt it was right to hook another text onto that one: he knew you felt something for him, and he told Peter that he didn't knew exactly what you were feeling (and that you probably didn't either) but that it was something reminiscent of strong love, broken love, fear, and a lot of missing him. You had looked bewildered at the mention of Peter, and he told him that, too. Told him that he should try with you. Told him that you needed him to try with you, or, at the very least, you needed him (not him, but him there, you needed his nearness, the familiarity Ned had fulfilled had to be filled by more than just him). And Peter answered with time, so he went back to the usual, being the Earth boy he always was, sleeping close to the ground on the first floor of a cheap apartment that looked magical later that week when he taped up all of his posters and switched out the bright, fluorescent white lights for the yellowed lights he always preferred because they look more like sunlight.

So Peter, in his dress shirt and nice pants and new shoes, sitting with his back straight against the wall near the entrance of his apartment, still sweating from the conversation that had happened hours earlier, closed his eyes and remembered you in the moonlight like you had remembered him and Ned in the sunlight, he remembered those many late night conversations he had with you in which he was filled to the brim with nothing but nerves and stress and anxiety, he remembered how you'd remind him all night and day and week that he was important and needed and okay and here, on this planet, in this town, living and breathing and growing and that he's not as small as he felt nor as big as he fears. He remembered how you'd call him sunshine, sunshine and he told Ned that he needs you because he wants to hear that again. A sky boy he was– he was constricted and bound by his own breathing so he threw off his clothes, pulled on his suit of red and blue, and sprinted across the roof of a long, tall building so he could jump off and then web himself to the next building. He toppled over and rolled along the hard surface of what was probably some apartment complex, he stared up at the last sky blues for the day and panted. His throat burned with his wheezes, but soon he smelled the city and smiled, deep in his mind he was sure that you'd call him sunshine, sunshine again soon. He slept long after you and Ned had fallen to slumber, after flying around buildings and waving at an infant and helping an older couple catch their bus.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfic #spiderman #spider man #spiderman fanfic #spiderman homecoming #spiderman x reader #my writing

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lronhusbands · 7 years

Text

Raise A Glass to Freedom

@kahuna-burger said:

I wanna read more stories where Barnes is free of HYDRA’s control after TWS, but he’s still the Winter Soldier. Like, his memories are coming back, but they’re memories of 70 years ago, and he’s changed a lot since then. And when he runs into Steve (working as a mercenary for anyone but HYDRA) he’s got some residual fondness and doesn’t wanna kill him, but the “this isn’t you, Bucky, please, come back to yourself,” bit pisses him off. (And Tony getting it and winteriron)

The Asset looked back at the blonde on the shore of Potomac, there was something about him, something familiar shifting around in the back of his head. He wasn’t quite ready to pull that thread. It was too much too soon. For now, he had to get away from HYDRA. He wasn’t theirs anymore.

The Asset kept journals for his memories. He had a lot of them know. They were fuzzy, and most of the time he felt like her couldn’t properly grasp on to them. He wrote them down to keep them with him. To remind himself that at one point in time, seventy years ago, he’d been a real person.

He read about himself in the Smithsonian. His name had been James Buchanan Barnes, he went by Bucky. At that time it had felt like he was reading about someone else’s life. Then the memories came.

He had been a real person.

The Asset remembered the man he used to be. He wasn’t that man anymore. After seventy years of having his brain scrambled and having other people use him to be a mindless assassin, it was impossible to go back to the man he used to be. But he could figure out who he was supposed to be, a new man.

The Asset started to call himself James. James was safe. His old name, Bucky, it held too many connotations. James tried to call himself Bucky at first, but he wasn’t Bucky anymore, it didn’t make sense to keep calling himself that. James was a better fit. James was something new. James could be anyone he wanted to be.

James moved to Bucharest. He had an apartment and worked at a small store. It was a chance to figure out who he was.

James gave himself missions sometimes, when he had nothing else to do. He would go take down HYDRA cells. He felt as it was the best form of revenge. Take everything they did to him, take the Winter Soldier, and use it to tear them down.

It was on one of those self-given missions that he met Steve Rogers. James didn’t want to kill him. He had lost that urge the moment HYDRA had been burnt to the ground. There was even a little bit of fondness for the blonde. Or… for the kid he used to be. James remembered him just a little.

“Bucky!”

James blinked and looked over at Steve Rogers. He remembered a scrawny kid that never backed down from a fight. He didn’t remember this new giant.

“Is this where you’ve been this whole time?” Steve demanded.

James frowned. Steve was his old friend. From seventy years ago. The man in front of him now didn’t feel like the Steve he used to know. Maybe he could use a new name as well.

“Yes,” James said slowly.

Steve- no, the Captain- moved forward and hugged James. James didn’t know how to react. Had it been the old Steve he might have been more inclined to hug back. But this was not his old Steve. The Captain pulled away from him, huge smile on his face. James could only muster up a small smile in return.

“What are you doing out there? You gotta come home Buck,” the Captain said.

There was that name again. Bucky. Clearly the Captain still saw him as his old friend. But James was not.

“Home?” James asked.

Home was his small apartment in Bucharest. With the kind old lady who lived beneath him and always gave him a slice of whatever pie she decided to bake that week. James already decided that he would gladly take a bullet for her.

“New York! We’re all at Stark Tower right now. You’d love it there Bucky,”

Stark Tower. Tony Stark lived there. James killed Howard and Maria. He had been trying to make amends for seventy years of assassinations, mainly by taking down HYDRA cells, but perhaps he should apologize to Tony.

“It’ll be just like old times,”

How could it be just like old times if neither of them were the same person they used to be.

James tried to tell the Captain that he wasn’t Bucky anymore. But the Captain kept insisting that he was, that nothing had to change. He seemed convinced that they could go back to the way things were before James fell. They couldn’t. They were to different. The Captain didn’t want to listen to James.

The Captain was right about Stark Tower, it was amazing. James had never seen anything like it. Not even during his time with HYDRA. James liked Stark Tower. He made sure to jot that down in one of his journals. He had one where he jotted down everything he liked. There wasn’t a lot on there. He was still figuring himself out.

The Captain brang him to Tony Stark’s lab. James was greeted by three different robots. They were fascinating things. They beeped and chirped and tapped on his metal arm with enthusiasm.

“Back! The lot of you! Stop crowding him you fucking children!”

It was Tony Stark who shooed the bots away. James took a moment to study him. He looked a lot like his father, Howard, but James could see some of Maria in him. He had ridiculous brown eyes, and a very intricate goatee. To James, it seemed a tiny bit unnecessary and a little extra. It suited him.

“Sorry about them, they’re usually so well behaved but when someone new walks in… well… they’re like puppies,” Tony said.

James looked at the bots for a moment. He felt a smile tug up on his lips.

“I like them,”

“That won’t last long,”

“So what brings you to my lab, Buckaroo?” Tony asked.

James didn’t bother correcting him. He didn’t want Tony to take it like the Captain did. James didn’t like that.

“He brought me here,” James replied.

“Rogers,” Tony said.

James nodded.

“How’s your arm? I doubt you’ve had it serviced since HYDRA fell, and not to toot my own horn but I’m pretty good at this whole mechanical thing,” Tony said.

“It glitches,” James admitted.

“Let’s take a look at it,”

He moved toward James but James jerked back. He had to tell Tony. Tony paused, worry flitting across his face.

“There’s something you gotta know,” James said.

Tony looked at him expectantly. James steeled himself to try and ready himself to tell Tony that he’d killed his parents.

“I killed them,”

Tony said nothing, he just continued staring at James.

“They told me to, so I obeyed orders,”

“You killed my mom?” Tony whispered.

“No witnesses,” James replied.

“I understand if you don’t want me here,”

“You’re going to have to give me some time to accept that,” his voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

“I’m sorry,”

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. These are the things I like:

1. Peach cobbler 2. The market in Bucharest 3. Fuzzy socks 4. Cats 5. Music from the 40′s 6. Killing HYDRA agents 7. Cooking 8. Movies 9. Flowers 10. Stark Tower 11. U 12. Butterfingers 13. Dum-E

It was three weeks before James saw Tony again. In that time he was introduced to the rest of the Avengers. He had a few memories of Natasha, but not many. The majority of the Avengers were wary of him. He didn’t mind. He was wary of them.

He liked Bruce. Bruce was nice. Bruce called him James and didn’t seem to mind when James joined in on his yoga sessions.

James tried to stay away from Rhodey. The Air Force Colonel was best friends with Tony and wasn’t overly pleased with James at the moment. James didn’t blame him in the slightest.

James started to see a therapist. Bruce said it would help.

22. Bruce Banner 23. Yoga

“Sergeant Barnes, the sir would like to see you in his lab,” JARVIS said.

James looked up, mildly surprised. JARVIS rarely spoke to him. He made his way to Tony’s lab and the door hissed open on it’s own. Tony was at his workbench. One of the bots hurried over to James and greeted him with a poke on his metal arm. It was U.

“Hello,” James said quietly.

He patted the bot gently and it chirped. Tony turned from the table to face James.

“Hello Bucky,”

“James,” it flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“What?” Tony asked.

“James,”

“Bucky… I’m not him anymore. People call me Bucky like I’m the same person I was before HYDRA, but I’m not. I don’t know exactly who I am, but it’s not Bucky,” James told him.

“Ok,” Tony said simply.

“James. I can’t forgive you for what you did to my mom. But I know you were brainwashed when it happened,” Tony took a shuddering breath.

“Is your arm still glitching?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Alright, sit down, I have to attach some sensors to your arm so I can get data,”

28. Tony working on my arm

Tony explained everything he was doing to James. James was nervous at first. But Tony was gentle, and kind, and always asked permission before he did something to the arm. Bruce joined them halfway through to help Tony. It took them a few hours to finish up their work on the arm, but when they finished it felt a lot better than it had.

“Let me know if something feels wrong,” Tony said.

“Thank you,” James said.

“It’s nothing,”

James wasn’t ashamed to say he was trying to avoid the Captain. It was draining to be around him. The Captain kept bringing up old memories, he kept expecting James could be the same man he used to be. That man was dead and gone and the Captain didn’t seem to understand that. So James avoided him. Instead he spent more and more time with Bruce, Tony, Sam, and even Rhodey. It seemed to make the Captain sad.

“What’d you make this time Jamesy?” Tony asked.

“Fajita’s,” James replied.

“The others?” was his next question.

“Bruce has a time sensitive experiment, and Colonel Rhodes and Sam are training. I saved them both some food,” James responded.

“Then it’s just you and me tonight sweetcheeks,”

James smiled a real smile. Tony grinned back.

“God damn James, these are fucking good,”

James’ cheeks felt warm at the praise. That was a new reaction to one of Tony’s praises. This was something he would have to bring up to his therapist.

43. JARVIS 44. Eating with Tony 45. Tony giving me nicknames 46. Tony Stark 47. Watching movies with Tony 48. Tony’s smile 49. Tony Stark

“Movie night sweetcheeks, you wanna come?”

James looked up from his journal where he’d been detailing the latest memory to assault him. There was a smile on Tony’s face. He looked like he’d just woken up.

“You don’t have to,” Tony said.

“No, I’m just about finished,” James said, he closed his journal and tucked it away in his desk.

“New memory?” Tony guessed.

“About my sister. Rebecca,” James told him.

Slowly they made their way down the hallway to the communal living room.

“You had a sister?”

“Don’ remember her too well,” James admitted.

“If it’s ok with you, James, I can have JARVIS look into her. He can tell you if she’s… ah… well-”

“Thank you,” James said.

“That’d be real nice,”

They made it to the communal living room. The Captain greeted James enthusiastically, called him Bucky while he spoke.

“His name is James,” Tony said.

The smile on the Captain’s face slipped away.

“He’s always been Bucky!” the Captain protested.

“I’m not the man I used to be. I’m not Bucky. He died on the ice,” James said slowly.

He was frustrated. He just wanted the Captain to understand that he wasn’t the same person he used to be.

“But you can be Buck!”

“But I’m not. I’m sorry you can’t understand that. I don’t know who I am but I’m trying to figure it out! You should try to get to know this me instead of hanging onto the old me,” James said.

His therapist was right. He should have told this to the Captain a long time ago instead of just bottling up his frustration. The Captain seemed at loss for words. James walked out of the communal living room.

It was Tony who found him in the gym. His knuckles were bloody and raw, and the remains of three punching bags littered the floor. He cooled himself down with a few yoga stretches.

“Is he angry with me?” James asked.

“He’s upset,” Tony replied.

“It’s about fucking time you told him to fuck off. You have the right to be your own damn person,” Tony said.

James smiled at him. Tony sat down next to him and for a few moments the two were silent.

“My therapist said I should have done that earlier,”

“Yea?”

Tony didn’t think very highly of the study of psychology. There seemed to be a lot of guesswork to it. But if it was working for James then it must have some merits.

“What else did your therapist say?”

“That I should probably ask you to be my fella before I miss my chance,” James replied easily.

“Then why haven’t you?” Tony demanded.

“You wanna be my fella?”

“Thought you’d never ask,”

James smiled and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. Tony kissed the top of his head.

fin

#kahuna burger #my writing #winteriron #Tony x Bucky #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Bruce Banner #JARVIS #the bots #marvel #fan fic #therhodeynet

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