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inner-sakura · 2 years

Text

Hypothetically Ever After

[childhood friends AU, adrienette, slowburn, fake/pretend relationship]

With only two weeks of summer vacation to spare, Marinette enlists Adrien’s help with a task of utmost importance.

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.”

Quite predictably, nothing goes according to plan.

a fic inspired by jennifer echols’s the boys next door, and starrycove’s Brothers AU (where PV Félix is Adrien’s older brother) because both of them have lived in my head and my heart for many years.

read the rest: AO3 | ff.net

chapter thirty-six

Marinette gazed up at the ceiling fan, squinting in concentration. She’d lost track of how long she’d been laying there, trying to pick out the individual paddles as they spun dizzyingly overhead. Based on the way the shadows had shifted and stretched across the ceiling, it had been a while.

Not that it really mattered either way, she thought with a sigh, already resigned to spending her evening exactly the same way she’d spent every waking moment of the rest of her day.

Miserable.

Lonely.

And sick to her stomach. Although that might have been a side effect of all the staring at fast-moving objects.

Marinette closed her eyes, willing the motion sickness away. Now she could add nausea to her ever-growing list of reasons to feel sorry for herself. Wonderful.

Before she could work herself up into a proper sulk, however, her pity party was interrupted by the buzzing of her cellphone.

She reached over blindly, expecting to be greeted by Alya’s picture when she opened her eyes.

Instead, her screen was blank, an unknown number listed at the top.

Marinette eyed it distrustfully. It was probably some kind of spam call. Which she definitely didn’t have the strength or energy to deal with today.

Moving to put the phone back on her nightstand, she paused at the last second, a strange feeling coming over her.

I...think I need to take this.

Almost as though it had a mind of its own, her finger extended, pressing the green button to accept the call before she could second-guess it.

“Hello?” She lifted the phone to her ear, a nervous sort of anticipation thrumming through her veins.

A man’s voice greeted her.

“Is this Marinette?”

Marinette straightened automatically, recognizing the deep voice on the other end of the line.

“Félix?” His name flew out of her mouth, far more incredulously than she’d intended. On the list of unlikely candidates, Félix Agreste was the very last person she’d expected to call her out of the blue. They had never once spoken on the phone, even after all these years of knowing one another.

How the hell did he even get my number? She wondered, her brows furrowing.

There was a long pause.

Marinette pulled the phone away from her ear, double checking that the line was still connected—it was—and that she wasn’t simply hallucinating—she wasn’t.

“Are you free this evening for dinner?” He asked at length.

“Excuse me?” This couldn’t possibly be happening. She must have fallen out of bed in her sleep and slipped into a coma. Or maybe I died and I’m now in purgatory being forced to live out some kind of cruel ironic punishment for the gods' amusement.

She pinched herself on the leg, hard enough to hurt.

“OUCH!” She yelped, wincing apologetically when she remembered that there was a delicate human eardrum on the other end of the receiver that was being directly funnelled all of her mouth sounds. “Sorry...”

Okay, definitely not dead then, Marinette decided, rubbing her beleaguered flesh with a grimace.

Félix let out a long sigh.

“Are you free this evening?” He bit out, enunciating each word slowly and carefully, as though she was a dunderhead who couldn’t understand the basic principles of language. “For dinner?”

At this point, Marinette was certain she had never been more confused in her life. “I mean, technically yes I suppose? But I don’t understand why you would want to—”

Félix cut her off, all business now that he’d received the confirmation he was looking for.

“Excellent. I will pick you up at seven.”

There was a click. Then the line went dead.

Marinette stared at the phone in her hand in disbelief.

Wait a second… Did Félix Agreste just ASK ME OUT??

And did I just say yes???

She swallowed heavily, feeling suddenly faint. “Well, fuck me.”

-x-

All in all, it took her shockingly little time to get ready.

Besides bathing and changing her clothes, Marinette hadn’t really put much effort into her appearance. After all the time she’d spent contemplating what it might be like to be asked out on a date by Félix Agreste, she was surprisingly numb to the concept now that it was actually happening.

She had spent most of her early teenage years daydreaming about this moment, planning everything down to the most minute details of what she would wear—something pretty but casual, light on the accessories, and complete with her cutest pair of shoes—and how she would style her hair—loose and softly curled in a way that practically begged to be touched.

Yes, she’d imagined it all; all of her hypotheticals lined up neatly in a row, just waiting to live up to her happily ever after.

Now though, after everything that had happened last night—and over the past two weeks in general, really—it was all she could do to drag herself into the shower and out of her pyjamas, elaborate fantasies be damned. Reality had a funny way of asserting itself over even the most ironclad of beliefs.

She’d always believed this would be one of the greatest days of her life.

Félix Agreste had finally asked her out! She should be ecstatic.

Instead, as she stared out over the lake, waiting on the porch for his driver to come and pick her up, she couldn’t muster up the will to care about what Félix thought of how she looked, or what she wore, or much of anything really.

In the end, Marinette didn’t feel much of anything at all.

The sound of the screen door slamming drew her out of her musings.

“You look like you’re heading out somewhere,” her father peered at her curiously, before a look of recognition passed over his face. “Oh, date night, is it? Where are you and Adrien headed to this time?”

Marinette flinched, jerking her head away as she tried to hide the surge of emotion caused by his well-intentioned question.

She and Adrien wouldn’t be going on any more dates. There would be no more walking along the canal, no candlelit dinners in cozy Italian restaurants, no jet ski joyrides. No more summer romance.

In fact, Marinette realized with an unpleasant jolt, her summer vacation was nearly over. She only had a few days left on the lake before she had to return home; to Tikki, and Alya, and the monotony of her day-to-day life in Paris.

A life that had very little of Félix and Adrien Agreste in it.

And potentially even less now, she pressed her lips together, her hands clenching into fists in her lap as she considered for the millionth time whether Adrien had any intention of ever speaking to her again.

After last night, the outlook seemed rather grim.

“No,” she responded dully, overcome by a bone-weary exhaustion. “I’m waiting for Félix.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched as his smile fell.

“Marinette? Is everything okay?” The chair creaked under his weight as he took a seat beside her.

Marinette kept her gaze very carefully averted. She knew that all it would take was one look at her father’s concerned face before she was spilling everything, most likely in a gushing torrent of snot and tears. And even though she didn’t particularly care about her appearance at the moment, there was a difference between not being bothered by whether her top really went with her pants, and Félix showing up to find her looking like a blotchy and puffy-faced snot monster.

She might not have much pride left, but what little she did have was very focused on preventing her from looking too beastly.

Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she went on.

“Félix invited me out. I’m not… seeing Adrien anymore,” she barely managed to choke the last part out, the words feeling thick and unwieldy on her tongue.

“Is that so?” Tom’s voice was level as he considered her. “Sounds like there’s a bit more to the story than that.”

He raised his eyebrows significantly, waiting. It was an unspoken prompt for her to fill him in on some of the details.

Marinette bit her lip, her mouth twisting as she deliberated. It was obvious that he didn't intend to let it go until she gave him a bone. Unfortunately for her, that dogged persistence was something that her father and Alya had in common.

At last, she groaned, letting her head thunk back on the chair’s wooden backrest.

“Okay, fine!” She gave in, launching into the most bare-bones explanation she could muster. Briefly outlining her and Adrien’s plan, Marinette glossed over as many of the details as she could. She didn’t feel up to rehashing the entirety of what had occurred over the last two weeks with her father, knowing without question that he would disapprove of the whole ‘dating one boy to catch another’ scheme.

She burned with shame as she admitted to approaching Adrien, recalling how she’d had to coax him into helping her woo his brother.

Through tears, she recounted how she’d set out to snare Félix, and wound up falling victim to a trap of her own making instead; potentially messing things up so badly that she wasn’t sure whether her friendship with Adrien would ever recover. And she cried just a little bit harder when she confessed how terrified she was by this prospect.

By the time she’d finished speaking, her face was wet with tears, and her father’s was completely blank.

Marinette withheld a wince, his non-reaction speaking volumes. He was dumbstruck and she couldn't exactly blame him. The whole thing was… a lot to take in.

They sat side-by-side for what felt like an eternity, listening to the sounds of the lake around them. The mountain wind whispering its secrets to the leaves. The echo of a distant bird’s song beckoning from across the glittering water.

Her heart clenched.

It was a beautiful summer day, and she'd wasted it in misery.

Marinette scrubbed a hand across her face, dashing the remnants of her tears away. So much for my plan to not cry…

“You know,” Tom began, his eyes unfocused as he stared out over the water, toward some distant point beyond the horizon line. “I’m aware that my skills as a handyman leave something to be desired.”

Marinette blinked, thrown by the non sequitur.

Well, that’s... certainly not what I was expecting.

“In fact, I’m willing to admit that I’m pretty terrible at it. That shelving unit I built in the basement collapsed on me today, and would have taken my head off if I hadn’t been half expecting it,” he laughed sheepishly, massaging the back of his neck. “But you know what? I still enjoy it, in spite of my many failed attempts.” He turned to her now, his green eyes twinkling.

“I also appreciate the fact that you and your mother love me enough to let me keep doing it, even though I know you both would probably like nothing more than to tell me to stop. Because you know it’s something that brings me joy.”

Marinette shrugged apologetically. He had her there.

“Basically, the point I’m trying to make is that sometimes it’s okay to not be completely honest with your loved ones, as long as what you’re doing isn’t hurting anyone.”

He gave her a weighted look.

“But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself too, chérie,” Tom leaned over, wrapping a thick arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “Knowing your heart is the first step.”

“Your maman and I raised you to be strong, and capable, and independent. We recognized and agreed very early on that there would be certain life lessons and decisions that we couldn’t make for you, because they are yours alone to make.”

He smiled down at her, warm and still proud despite what she had just confessed to him. “You turned out to be everything we had hoped for and more.”

Marinette swallowed thickly, willing away the warmth she could feel pooling in her eyes. Damnit, just when I thought I was done with this shit…

Her father released her then, hands falling to his knees as he pushed to his feet. Groaning at the symphony of cracks and pops his joints let out, Tom ambled to the door, pausing at the threshold.

“All I ask is that whatever you’re doing with those boys, you be careful.” He gave her one last long, uncharacteristically serious look, his eyes dark with worry. “Both for your sake, and for theirs.”

And with that, he went inside, the screen door closing with a neat click behind him.

Left alone with her thoughts once again, Marinette bowed her head, overcome by an intense wave of guilt and shame.

Involving her friends in the mess she’d created was bad enough, but knowing that she also risked worrying—and possibly even disappointing—her parents? That might be the worst thing of all.

She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth as she fought off yet another round of tears.

It seemed like the ripples she had made extended far beyond what she’d initially thought possible, and now everyone was feeling the repercussions of her actions; left to deal with the fallout.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

-x-

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml fic recs #no miraculous au #ml fanworks #ml brothers au #childhood friends au #ongoing fic #hypothetically ever after

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awandapologist · 2 years

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My house of stone, your ivy grows

Summary: This was based on a request someone sent in! Kate and reader have an argument that turns into….. well, read it for yourself to see.

(Ok yes this is also heavily inspired by emisue bc friends to lovers is my favorite trope)

Angst, smut (?) and fluff. Guess it has all three but you can be the judge of that.

Word Count: 3k... it’s kinda long-winded bc I got carried away but o h well

Kate Bishop x female!reader

You didn’t know how someone could be so oblivious. Kate was yet again wrapped up in her own antics, far too busy to give you the time of day. Someone so reckless and preoccupied shouldn’t have made you fall in love with her. But you weren’t really the one in control of that.

It happened in high school. You had been friends for years, but after one summer, your relationship with her felt.... different.

The more time you spent with Kate, the happier you felt. She’d wait for you after your classes and in return you’d walk with her to archery practice. You never ran out of things to talk about and she never failed to make you laugh.

You also began to notice the way your body buzzed and your heart skipped a beat whenever she touched you.

You had initially thought it was just intense friendship. That was up until you realized that you were staring at Kate’s lips a little too long and a little too often for you to just consider her a friend.

You tried to ignore the unusual beating of your heart whenever Kate was around, but you always ended up failing miserably.

When boys at school started showing interest in you, you tolerated it. But you never felt with them what you felt with Kate.

So when Kate called you on the phone one night to tell you she got asked to the senior prom by some older guy in her history class, you felt your heart drop inside your chest. He was an upperclassmen who was on the archery team with her. She had told you about him before and how he felt like an older brother figure. She didn't seem too thrilled with the idea of going even though she had already said yes.

“Honestly… I kinda wish I could just go with you instead,” she said and your heart sped back up at her words. It was miraculous really, the way she could make you feel so many emotions in such a short time span. Only Kate could do that to you.

“Me too,” you said. You were sure she had meant in a platonic way.

Two friends who just felt more comfortable with each other would definitely be much better than going with some older guy? All friends would think that way, right?

You were far too scared to tell her how you truly felt anyway. You’d rather have her in your life as just a friend than risk the possibility of losing her completely.

“I do hope you have a good time though. Going to the senior prom as a sophomore does warrant some kind of bragging rights,” you said.

You heard her laugh over the line. “Yeah I’ll try, but only if you come over after.”

You smiled at that. “Deal.”

You spent the rest of high school together. Consisting of late nights with you and Kate lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling while you shared dreams of your futures. Yours always included her, and hers always included you.

There was one night that you still think about to this day.

It was a cold night in December. The two of you were on Kate’s rooftop watching the first snow fall of the year. It got late and quickly became too cold to bare, so you decided to go inside and warm up a bit with a bottle of Rosé that Kate had hidden underneath her bed.

Slightly wine drunk, you two were once again laying on her bed, talking about everything and anything you could think of. Kate had fairy lights strung around her room and put on some music for you two to listen to. You knew Kate was a big fan of The Neighbourhood considering their discography was the majority of what she played.

By this point in the night, you were feeling drowsy from the alcohol in your system. You felt good, relaxed and because of your state, Kate made you stay the night.

The raven haired girl usually always got changed in her bathroom whenever the two of you would had sleepovers. But for whatever reason, Kate decided to strip right in the center of the room with her back towards you. You assumed it had to be from the alcohol and because she was too tired to walk any further.

As Kate stripped out of her pants, you discovered that she was wearing Calvin Klein boxer briefs underneath. She wore a sports bra that showed off her toned abs from tireless training for archery. You weren't sure why your face blushed furiously at the sight or why it made your heart speed up so much. She noticed you staring when her eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror. You quickly turned away, trying to focus on anything else in your line of vision. You didn’t see, but there was a smirk on Kate’s face after seeing you flustered.

She opened up one of her drawers and came back over to the bed with a pair of pajamas shorts and one of her graphic tees. You put them on and loved the way they smelt like her.

“All my clothes are so big on you,” she laughed. “It’s cute.”

You blushed and lied back down so you were face to face with her.

You were falling asleep quickly as you felt Kate comb through your hair with her hands.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Kate said. “Love you.”

You knew it was only meant to be friendly, not a declaration of her romantic love for you which you so deeply yearned for. Your heart broke a little bit again at her words, but you still smiled before sleep overtook you.

“Love you too, Katie.”

Now here you were years later, sitting at your kitchen counter, waiting for a confirmation text from Kate that would most likely never come. The two of you were supposed to meet up at your favorite coffee place to catch up since Kate has pretty much been missing in action for the last two weeks, most likely busy doing Hawkeye stuff with Clint. You knew she had a lot on her plate, but you had planned this three days ago and Kate had promised you that she wouldn’t miss it.

But here you were, with no reply back from her, a half an hour before you were supposed to meet.

You were angry, yes. But most of all, you were hurt. It was beginning to feel like Kate just didn't care about you anymore. You were sick of being so dependent on the girl. You needed to do something productive instead of thinking about her.

You took your backpack and decided to go to the shop anyway. Maybe you could get some work done for your classes and get your mind off of your best friend for a bit.

As soon as you walked in the door, you saw your friend Peter from your English class being handed a coffee by the barista.

“Hey, Peter!” you said as you walked up to him.

“Y/N!” he said as he turned to face you, coffee in hand. “What’s up, how are you?”

“Just thought I’d come by to actually attempt to get some work done. Our professor is such an asshole for assigning that essay over the weekend,” you said.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. “God, tell me about it. I’ll be lucky if I don't fail the course by the end of the semester.”

You and Peter ended up sitting in the cafe, sipping your coffees until they got cold. You always laughed with him and for the time being, your mind was off Kate. Once it got dark, he offered to walk you back to your place.

You were enjoying your conversation with Peter so much that you didn't notice a raven haired girl waiting for you outside of your apartment.

“Guess you didn't check your phone,” she said, standing up straight from the wall she was leaning against. Her voice caught your attention and you made eye contact with her after weeks of not seeing her. Damn she looked good.

The girl you missed was wearing her signature Doc Martens, ripped Balenciaga jeans, and a tight fitted long sleeve shirt underneath her plaid jacket. The outfit was topped off with one of her black beanies.

You looked down at your phone that had been in your pocket for the last two hours to see six texts and four missed calls from Kate.

“Well you haven't exactly been the most responsive person either,” you said, looking back up at her. You both were staring each other down, both obviously pissed off.

In the midst of your staring contest with Kate, you had completely forgotten Peter was still standing right next to you.

“Uh...hi,” he said looking now at Kate. “I’m Peter,” he reached his hand out to shake hers.

Kate looked at it reluctantly before shaking his hand and giving him a tight lipped smile. “Kate,” she said. She immediately directed her attention back to you.

“Well....” Peter cleared his throat. “I think I should be uhh-going then.” The awkwardness of the situation finally dawned on you and you turned around to face your friend.

“Peter I’m sorry..” you started apologetically. “I’ll text you later. Thanks again for walking me home.” You leaned in to give him a hug while Kate scoffed and folded her arms.

Peter went on his way and you immediately brushed past Kate. To your dismay, however, she followed you upstairs to your apartment.

“What the fuck is your problem, Kate?” you said with her trailing behind you up the stairs.

“Me?! You're the one who didn't text me back while I was waiting outside your apartment for hours!”

“Well, maybe you wouldn't have had to if you had actually just responded in the first place,” you said, unlocking your front door and turning on the light.

It was silent for a second before she spoke up again.

“So, that your boyfriend or something?” Kate said in an irritated tone, shutting the door behind her. It was a tone of voice very unlike her to use.

“You mean Peter?”

“If thats’s his name, then yes.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at her blatant rudeness.

“No, he’s my friend. If you actually listened to me then you’d know that I've mentioned him before. But I forgot that lately you can’t even do that.”

She let out a low laugh, a menacing sound coming from the usually cheery girl.

“That’s really rich coming from you, Y/N. You of all people know that I’m out there everyday trying to help people. You know how difficult my job is and what I have to sacrifice for it.”

“Why do you even care so much about what I do in my free time anyway if you have that guy to hang out with?” she spat icily.

You had to admit, Kate was a little scary when angered.

“Because you’re being fucking selfish, Kate!” You yelled, hands running through your hair in frustration. “It’s like you act like I dont even exist for weeks and now you’re mad that I’m spending time with someone else?!”

You were seething now, and once you started your rant, you couldn’t stop. All of the pent up anger and feelings that you had buried for so long were finally bubbling up to the surface.

“You say you care about me, but I don’t even think that’s true,” you said.

A flash of hurt was reflected in Kate’s blue eyes. You knew you had struck a nerve with that one.

“You think I don’t care about you?” She asked, a displeased look on her face as she took a step towards you from across the room. “Do you even know me?”

“Maybe I don’t know you anymore.” The tension in the air was suffocating and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Kate looked. She was stupidly, dizzyingly beautiful, and that made you even more mad.

“Oh yeah? Well, if you really feel that way then maybe I should just leave!” You knew she didn’t mean it by the way her steps got closer to you until you were nearly backed up against the wall.

You were both breathing heavy now and your vision was slightly becoming blurred from your emotions and how close she now was to you.

“No,” you said. You didn’t want her to go. You never did.

“No? Why not? After all that bullshit about me not caring about you, why should I stay?” you could see the pure emotion and fury in her eyes. Wait, were her pupils dilated?

Your back was now fully pressed against the wall, entrapped by her strong body. One of her hands reached up to your throat and your skin was set ablaze at the aggressive touch.

You don’t know what came over you in that moment. All you could do was feel and stare at Kate’s lips so close to you. You felt her minty breath fan over your mouth. After so many years of deprivation, you couldn’t wait any longer. You only wanted one thing.

“Kiss me,” you said, more of a plea than a demand like you had hoped.

You expected Kate to look shocked at your confession and pull away. Instead, she did not miss a beat as she leaned in and kissed you.

Her lips did not disappoint. In fact, all of the daydreams you had about kissing Kate didn’t even come close to the real thing. Electricity flooded through your veins as she overwhelmed your senses.

The kiss was messy, the two of you not being able to get enough of each other after yearning for so long.

Her hands went to grip your waist tightly while yours snaked into her dark locks.

You separated from her mouth and she began to kiss your neck. From your jaw, back to the column of your neck and up to nibble on your ear lobe. You could barely form a coherent thought.

“I need you, Kate. Please,” you said.

“What do you want, Y/N.” Fuck. She was really going to make you say it.

“You. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve only ever cared about you and I want you to touch me. Please.”

Kate’s eyes were now black with lust and from her reaction, you knew she wanted this just as much as you.

She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. “Let me show you just how much I care about you, Y/N.”

You knew that Kate had sexual experience and had heard from mutual friends how she always left the girls she hooked up with wanting more. But god did she prove it to you tonight. The only difference from her past sexcapades was that this time, it actually meant something to the raven haired girl. Her lips worshipped your body, making you moan as she made you cum over and over again. Kate could die happily after hearing you moan her name for the first time.

You explored each other’s bodies for hours, only getting tired until you saw the sun rise. Kate held you in her arms as you two cuddled underneath the sheets. A sweaty, content mess.

“I guess now is a good time to say that I’ve always been in love with you,” the archer admitted as she combed her fingers through your hair. “Ever since we were in high school.”

“You idiot,” you said playfully pushing her shoulder. “Why didn't you ever tell me? I’ve been pining over you for years.”

Kate took your fingers and brought them up to her lips to kiss them.

“I was always too scared. How I feel about you, Y/N.... it scares me,” she admitted, looking down. “I didn't want to lose you. That’s also why I’ve been avoiding you a bit.”

“You don’t ever have to worry about losing me,” you started. “Because all I’ve ever really wanted was you.”

At your words, Kate brought you in for a passionate kiss. Nothing had ever felt more right in your life than kissing Kate. After a taste, you were pretty sure you could never get enough of her lips.

She broke the kiss, leaning her head against yours. “Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go again.”

All your life, you had built the walls around your heart to be an impenetrable fortress. A house of stone. And Kate was the ivy, wrapping herself around your heart until you were inevitably covered in her.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld #kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop imagines #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut #kate x yelena #yelena belova #hawkeye #mcu imagine #mcu #marvel #marvel fan fiction #lgbtq

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odetojeons · 3 years

Text

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is… hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Answer me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

Text

Ashens (Part 24)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,700

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Waging wars to shake the poet and the beat

I hope it's gonna make you notice

“…I’m in the military, sir…”

“…James, that’s my father, okay? If anything, let’s just be glad he didn’t kill you. He’s like that with everyone…And the soldier thing, he’s weird about that. I’m not sure why…”

Bucky lies awake in bed, fluffy pillow behind his head and one leg peeking out from the blankets, as random memories knack away at his brain in pulses. They weren’t new memories, but they were memories that he never looked at the way he was now.

He doesn’t know why now, he doesn’t know what triggered it, but they were clicking together.

After years of replaying the same moments in his head, there was a nagging feeling that was telling him that there was something not adding up.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s seeing things differently, if he’s feeling things differently.

Whatever it was, he knew there was something…off.

There was something off about Daisy’s story about her dad’s story, something was off about the way he was against Bucky fighting in the military, and her death was coinciding so much with his capture.

He doesn’t like the feeling in his stomach as he remembers.

When Bucky asked about her brother and what that whole commotion back at the club was she was blatantly honest with him.

“My father’s not a good guy. He’s been wanting some something from one of these performers that was suppose to be there last night, but turns out they weren’t even on the set list. He had lied about it, we don’t know where he is.”

Bucky raises a brow at this, “You do his dirty work for him?”

“No, I don’t like to get involved in that. It’s a dangerous lifestyle. I have to think about my future family. I was only there yesterday because my brother wanted to get me out of the house for once.”

Bucky isn’t too gleam on the fact that her family are borderline criminals and that she basically supports it, and for a fraction of a second he almost doesn’t buy it, but he decides to mention this later on, not wanting to ruin their moment.

Bucky shifts his leg as he continues to remember that conversation. Why was he not against it? Why did he never question the crimes? Was he that distracted by her?

Bucky smiles at her comment, but then his brows furrowed together in an adorable way that made Daisy giggle and bring her hand to his cheek, “What is it, James?”

What is it, James?

Bucky looks over to see you laying next to him, sat up with your back against the headboard reading some book with a beige cover.

You hadn’t taken notice of his self discomfort yet, emerged in your reading, tucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

Why was he remembering all of this now? Why was he feeling sick?

When they pulled away she slowly dragged her thumb across his plump bottom lip. He watched her like she was the most gorgeous and interesting thing on the planet.

“James?” He responded with a sound on confirmation and she continued, “do you think we are moving too fast?”

He grabbed her hand that was on his face and for a fraction of a moment she thought that that was it, they were over. This was clearly too unrealistic. But instead he brought her hand up over both his lips and he kissed her gingerly.

“Yes.” He whispered behind her hand, making sure he was making direct eye contact with her.

Her face dropped. “Yes?” Her voice was worried, cautious.

He started trailing kisses down her hand, her wrist, her forearms. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck making her groan.

It wasn’t that Daisy didn’t like being pampered but she wanted to take this very seriously. With a reluctant sigh - because what he was doing to her flesh just felt so good - she delicately removes her arm from Bucky’s grasp. He narrowed his eyes as she moved away towards the head board, suddenly wondering if maybe he said the wrong thing.

Her eyes trickled his features and down his perfect little nose.

“I knew it since the moment I laid my eyes on you. That’s how you know it’s real. This isn’t crazy, it’s ludicrous. But it works for us. I want to be with you.”

After his little speech Daisy looked him dead in the eye, not batting one lash.

“Then come have dinner with my family.”

Was it too fast? He had barely known her and she was asking him to meet her family. Criminals.

But why would she give away such dire information if it were true?

Bucky sat up slowly, as if if he were to move too quickly, the bed would collapse underneath him.

His eyes had a far away look in him, and he was as pale as he felt.

You feel him shift and your eyes flicker up to him.

You frown.

Her blue eyes glisten with gentle tears, probably thinking the same exact thing. None of it still feels real.

Her, she, doesn’t feel real.

They spent nearly every night together just talking about what Bucky would do when he came back home after camp. Things like how they would have to go see the stars on the back of an outskirts farmhouse, how they would have to go to every club in the city and laugh their night away, how he would take her to coney island with him and Steve and show her a “good time” on the ferris wheel, and how they would definitely have to meet her family.

“They’re great, you’ll love them.” She had said as they laid in bed together just hours before, merely cuddling with clothes on.

“Oh, come on doll, even your Dad?”

Daisy hesitated for a moment and her hand that was rubbing his chest stopped suddenly.

Bucky noted this and they met eyes.

Bucky feels his heart palpitate and he opens and closes his right hand, sitting up.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You ask softly, closing your book.

“Dad has been gone for four weeks and I don’t know why. Jimmy has gone with him- it’s just me and mother. I overheard her saying something about Germany but I’m not quite sure.. Or maybe it was something else. Though none of that matters to me, James- I want you. Please come home to me.”

For some reason, a chill ran down his back as he reread the words “something about Germany”.

Like an awful memory that has never happened, he sees a child in front of him. It was a little girl and she screamed in agony for mercy. She was getting strangled to death by his own hand, a silver glint caught his eye-

“James!”

“Bucky.”

Your voice pulls him out of his trance for just a moment.

He looks up to you, your eyes interlacing in a silent conversation of understanding.

He was revealing something to himself and you could tell that whatever that was it was leaving him overcome by feelings.

At the end of the day, he knows that he’s just insanely protective of Steve. Which is why his arm instinctively goes around him when Rogers almost gets hit by a speeding vehicle that abruptly stops to halt in front of them on the curb. With his mind far away, he hadn’t realized they were already standing on the sidewalk in front of one bright sign labeled Cotton Club.

Had Bucky known better, he would’ve had him on his left.

After that introduction, the two boys look over to the object that almost killed them.

It was pure black, the countless lights coming from the surrounding buildings and cars bouncing off its surface. The rain must’ve made it even shinier, the lights made a reflection so bright that it had everyone staring. Men looked in awe and a young paper boy, standing on the corner working over time, wondered if that would someday be his future.

With a look of disgust, Steve was repulsed by the obscurity of the man’s driving having nearly hit him. He wondered why people had no respect and he desperately wanted to punch his face in. Either that or give him a pep talk about general safety.

“What a twit.” He snarls, dusting off his small suspenders and kicking the invisible debris off his lapels.

Bucky’s face held something different. It explained why the woman staring had looked on in pure jealousy. He stared forward completely emotionless. He was neither annoyed at the fact that he almost just got run over and killed and nor in obsession over the Duesenberg J.

It was the beautiful goddess emerging from the passenger seat that caught his full attention.

On her left hand was a pearl and diamond bracelet and she used it to skim over the top of the priceless car door for leverage to push herself gracefully up from the leather seat. Her other hand was wrapped up in a prestige white glove. It held onto the hem of her silver sparkling gown, a long white cigar between her digits. Her gorgeous dress looked heavy, you could tell it was so properly made and expensive because it must’ve weighed as much as her petite self. The reason being that it hugged her body at just the perfect places, showing off her curves gracefully.

Her perfect blonde hair was pulled slick back by a diamond hair clip to the side in huge voluminous waves. The dress showed just enough back, the material dipping down towards the floor, the dip ending just above her bottom. The entire thing was held by two tiny silver straps on her shoulders.

In a sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington seemed to have played perfectly in sync with the exact moment she shut the door behind her. She looked up to read the sign, her perfect profile looking up in awe.

Bucky stands up from the bed, back rigid and face hard with anger.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He swallows thickly, gaze going towards you again.

He doesn’t know why he keeps looking at you.

Ironically, beneath his anger and betrayal, he also began to feel embarrassment.

He’s momentarily startled out of his trance when he feels a small hand grab his elbow. He looks down and his eyes meet a small concerned Steve. Well, to be fairly honestly, he looked more pissed than concerned.

Bucky doesn’t feel the patience to deal with talking anything out, he’s too busy thinking about Daisy. But he feels like he should at least say something so he can get everyone off his back, “What is it?”

Steve looks at him likes he’s crazy and then manically gestures towards the entrance of the club, probably pointing to where Daisy just left through.

“Bucky, what the heck was that? Who was that? You know her?”

“I didn’t know her. No.” Bucky doesn’t realize he’s saying it out loud.

He’s shaking his head to himself, mumbling.

“Bucky, who are you talking to?” You’re growing even more concerned by the second now.

The silence was broken by his strong voice.

“You’re real.”

She smiles in a way that makes him smile too. It was contagious and bright. He caresses her skin one more time.

He felt her own hand come over his and she whispers, “I’m real.”

“Not real.”

You are more than concerned at this point.

“What are you talking about?”

“Maybe it was the fact that my body had finally developed into a women’s body. My breasts were now fully perked and my legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all I knew was they figured I could be put to good use.”

He shook his head and Bucky blinked away heavy tears.“I-“

The pretty woman rolled her eyes and crossed her legs, revealing a long slit that ran up her dress. It was just enough skin for Bucky’s hand to get sweaty.

He waited until the perfect opportunity when the man had walked towards the direction of the stage, making his way into the back behind the curtain.

“It wasn’t real.”

“You do his dirty work for him?”

“It wasn’t real.”

“My father’s not a good guy.”

Bucky remembers them poking him with IV drops and then sticking his head in a blender. His owns screams fill his head. It was so painful.

“Reason unknown, ongoing investigation"

“I wasn’t going to let you keep her. She enticed you. She won you. It was always supposed to be you.”

“…blonde 21 year old was found shot…”

“Daisy,” he whispered. He traced her features with his hand, and just like that the fear escaped his eyes, and instead of scared he was now feeling complete love and he was ready because knew this is what he wanted forever. He wanted her, “Will you marry me?”

“…Her family has been under investigation after her father’s disappearance —…”

“But you jeopardized it, Soldat. It wasn’t real.”

The memories are sucked out of him like a vacuum and his dark eyes meet yours, again, across the bed.

You had never seen his pupils so blown before.

You were terrified.

Your eyes go down to his flesh hand that is twitching against his thigh.

“Bucky.” You say cautiously, one more time. It was almost like you were afraid to get closer to him.

“I—“ his voice was hoarse.

He looks away and clears his throat. He blinks away the heavy daze, allowing it all to sink in until it settles in his stomach in a surprising pool of acceptance.

He sees you again and for some reason he feels okay.

It scares him.

It scared him how you took something that had been bothering him for so long, away that quickly.

In that moment he knows.

“I remembered something.” Your eyebrows came together suddenly. Nearly moments ago he looked heartbroken but now he just looked shocked and angry.

“What did you remember? I thought you had your memories back. In Wakanda.”

“I-I did,” he squeaks out running a hand through his hair, “maybe I’m just remembering differently, or adding pieces together, I don’t know, I can’t tell. It has to be, because it makes sense. It makes so much sense now, and I can’t—and she—”

“Bucky you’re rambling,” he stops and you continue to look at each other. His face drops all traces of anger and it softens, “Talk to me, I’m right here.” You whisper.

Bucky looks down at you and nods. No hesitancy.

“Give me your hands.” You say, reaching for him. He doesn’t hold back from doing so, and once you have his hands in yours, you pull him up onto the bed so he’s kneeling on it next to you.

Bucky takes a few minutes to compose himself before he says it:

“I think Daisy and her family were Hydra.” He says it like he’s afraid of his own words.

As if every word in that phrase was a curse word.

Somehow, it relieves him.

His chest feels light, shoulders worn. He can breathe.

+ + +

“I should’ve known it was too fast. Too perfect,” you’re also stunned as he tells you everything, his hands still in yours, “but—but I don’t think she was always hydra. I think she wanted out when I was captured and they killed her for it.”

You don’t deny it, that hurts. Despite never knowing the girl and secretly holding envy for her, it pains you.

“Oh, Bucky.”

He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing together.

“But it was a lie. She enticed me, she fucking—“ Bucky sucks in a deep breath, “she was trying to lure me in. There was nothing real about it.” He says the word like it’s venom on his lips.

You feel him rub his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You don’t know that -”

He shakes his head again, “She was Hydra!” He doesn’t say it angrily as much as he says it in a way to announce it to himself.

He needed to say it out loud. He needed to let it sink in.

You watch Bucky as he becomes completely numb, and somehow free, in front of you.

For some reason you expected more heartbreak from him for discovering something so horrible about a woman he claimed he loved so much, a woman he wanted to marry, but instead all you got from him was anger and acceptance.

Little did you know, Bucky was in the same boat as you.

Why wasn’t he as heat shattered as he’d expect?

“I-“ he’s speechless as he looks around, trying to find something, but he does’t know what.

You think you’re more shocked than him and you quickly grab his arm, bringing him against you for a tight hug.

He hugs you back immediately, hand running up your shoulder blade and onto the back of your hair.

Minutes pass by. Many minutes.

“It was all a lie,” he whispers still holding onto. you, “All of it. I really was alone. I thought I finally had someone, but—It wasn’t real.”

You don’t know what to say as you run your hand up the back of his head.

It’s not until you pull him in tighter that he realizes it.

It was you.

You were there reason this didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. His heart no longer wanted to be with someone who was long gone.

It wanted to stay here.

Here.

He never thought he would ever feel this way ever again, and he never thought he would trust this hard ever again.

Realizing truth relived him of buried pain, and he wanted you to keep holding him, to keep helping him go through this.

He says your name softly.

“Yes?”

“I want to talk about everything.”

You stiffen for a moment as you let his words sink in. You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“All of it. Everything that I did. I need to get it out, I can’t keep doing this, holding it in, keeping it inside —”

The euphoria through your blood is addicting.

“Tell me.”

He loved slow dancing.

He loved the Yankees.

He loved math and Howard Stark.

He went to the Stark Expo every year.

He loved The Hobbit and he loved jazz.

He loved New York City.

He loved Brooklyn the most.

He misses flat hats.

He loved telling jokes.

His mother died when he was young.

His sister was taken away from him.

He cried when he couldn’t see her.

His father died not too long after.

He never enlisted despite his love for the military.

He was drafted.

He experienced World War II but on the enemy side.

He fought with Hitler’s and Hydra’s men.

He was loved by the KGB.

He loved Prague.

He trained the girls in the red room.

He remembers every young girl.

He was told to kill four kids on a mission once in Bucharest.

He was tormented, beaten raw, and kept in a concrete cell between cryo periods.

He was only occasionally fed, most years spent asleep.

He was treated like an animal. They tied him to the wall once in the cell, with a chain around his neck.

He was brain washed.

He was sexually assaulted by Hydra.

He doesn’t remember if he was raped, which could be his brain’s way of protecting himself from more trauma.

He reminds you that loved Howard Stark.

He killed Howard Stark.

He killed Maria Stark.

He was the one that stole the super soldier serum from the Stark’s and provided it to Hydra.

He was the fist of Hydra.

He killed many other good men. Over two dozen assassinations.

He killed JFK.

He never wanted to do any of it.

He remembers all of it.

They named him a hero on the Wall of Valor before S.H.I.E.L.D fell.

He was taken into Wakanda, freed of his trigger words.

He still loved New York City.

He was pardon him, despite everything.

They named him an Avenger.

He remembers it all.

You’re laying down facing each other and you continue to watch him as he tells you everything.

It’s one of the most surreal experiences of your life and you find yourself in total awe.

This was the Bucky Barnes you had been longing to see. This was the man you knew was hidden beneath layers of hurt and anger.

You had seen it before he even told you.

The fact that he even trusted you enough to be this transparent with you is what makes you so happy.

His eyes brightened as he played with a string on the blanket between you.

“And Friends,” his voice is small and there’s a little smile on his mouth. Your heart swells as you watch it, “I love Friends.”

You bite your tongue as you smile.

Bucky stared at you, just as amazed at himself as he was at you. He couldn’t believe he told it all to you.

It was as if Daisy’s image had begun to dissolve and he was finally seeing clearly.

He didn’t hate you. He never hated you.

His fingers peak out slowly to take a hold of your pinky.

It was the opposite. He wanted you.

He feels himself breaking when you pull away from his touch. His smile falls.

“I’m proud of you,” you say quietly, sitting up again, “For finally talking about it.” You mean it, “Thank you.”

It takes him a few seconds to eventually look away and he turns onto his back. Bucky drapes an arm over his stomach, letting out a long breath of contentment.

He felt free.

To do what?

He looks over at you again as you pull your book back out.

This. This is what freedom got him. You.

But it you weren’t his. He clears his throat.

“How are things with your boyfriend?”

You don’t like talking about Pietro with Bucky.

“It’s fine,” you answer anyway, “We only had one date. And I got sick, so hopefully the next one will be better.”

Bucky swallows thickly. Why was he feeling like this? He should be happy for you. You wanted this. You deserved this.

“What do you plan to do when it’s time for us both to leave and go back?” He asks.

You don’t miss the way he mentions both of you to leave and your eyes quickly flicker to him.

“I don’t know yet,” you say hoarsely, filled with unexpected relief.

+ + +

Bucky doesn’t remember experiencing this kind of happiness since he was nineteen and him and Steve went to go see a baseball game after scoring a date with two pretty girls on the F train.

He’s happy.

Ashen peaks up at him from behind dark lashes, smiling so hard his eyes peak up at the side, turning them into thin slits. Bucky’s aren’t too far off as he mimics the boy’s laughter.

“Connect four?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta try it. It’s so fun.” The Ashens says happily, pulling out the little game from underneath his bed. Bucky wants to ask him why he has it hidden, but he doesn’t. He just reminds him that they need to stay quiet, “plus, it’s the only game I have anyway. But it’s fun Mr. Bucky.”

“Haha, alright lets try it.” Bucky says.

They sit across from each other on the floor, setting up the little game and dividing their colored chips. Ashen’s goes first, dropping in a yellow one.

Bucky picks up a red one with his flesh hand and drops it right next to the yellow. They continue for a bit until Ashens notices Bucky isn’t connecting his colors.

“No, you have to try to get a straight line and connect it!” He laughs, “you suck at this."

“Oh, no! What did I do?” Bucky exclaims, laughing.

“You’re not very smart for an Avenger.” Ashens remarks.

“Okay,” Bucky points at him playfully, smiling, “That’s mean.”

“I’m sorry but it is true.”

“Cut me some slack.” Bucky says, smiling.

They play for a little longer until Ashens ends up beating him.

Bucky sticks his tongue out at the boy, but smiles. He eventually caught on to the game and let him win. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Mr. Bucky,” Ashen says after he slides the game back under his head. He brings his legs up to his chest and hugs them, "Will you tell me now why you are here to save me?”

Bucky licks his lip and sighs. He looks out Ashens' high rise window and then back to him again. “Not yet.”

“Should I be afraid.”

“No. I won’t let anything happen you. I promise.”

Ashens doesn’t say anything as he lets his Mike Wazowski slippers hit each other.

“Do you have any kids? Like my age?”

The question surprises Bucky, and for a moment a feeling of longing hits him. “No. I don’t.”

“Aww okay.”

Bucky stares at Ashens little sad face and his heart breaks.

“I always wanted to, though,” Bucky whispers, “But that was years ago.”

“When you were in world war one?”

Bucky smiles.

“Two, not one, but yeah,” it’s not a lie, Bucky knows that if his loved would’ve went a different way, he would have definitely had kids. To know he could never go back to such simplicity broke his heart, “Something like that.”

There was something, that even so many months later, still bothered Bucky. It was something so small, and it probably didn’t really affect you as much as it affected him, but it was something you said to him.

It was one of your many fights and the way you had spatted at him about buying you plan B after you had sex.

He didn’t want to burden you. What you two had done had been irresponsible. An atmosphere like this was no place and time for an unwanted baby.

You weren’t ready for one, let alone his.

At the time, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t want the baby, if you were to have gotten pregnant, he would have loved that child with everything. He was thinking about you.

He hated to think that he gave you that pill as a gesture to say that he wanted nothing to do with you.

If so, you were wrong.

He wanted you to be happy, just smart.

He cared about you.

And now, possibly more.

As he continues to watch Ashens giggling over his slippers, that feeling of longing washes over Bucky again.

He knows he needs to tell you.

+ + +

You still weren’t feeling well. Maybe it was your nerves. The end of the mission was getting closer by each day and you never expected you’d have to leave with a little kid. You still hadn’t met Ashens, but Bucky says he’s a delight.

Ashens has changed him. You took notice immediately and it made you happy. This whole experience would be good for him.

After Bucky had poured out his heart to you, you knew you needed to get away again. That was the dance now. You get pulled, you take a step back. You couldn’t let yourself go there anymore, no matter how hard it was.

Pietro would be the driving force to help you.

You just wish Bucky would stop doing things that he probably realized he wasn’t even doing. The way he touches your face and your hand, or some times the way he looks at you, was not appropriate for two fuck buddies who stopped…fucking.

You were still convinced that he wanted you two to go your separate ways at the end of this mission. Him indirectly saying he was going to walk out with you made you happy, it could’ve been Ashens that helped him have a change of heart, whatever it was, this thing between you had to dissolve anyway.

You couldn’t keep doing that to himself, even when he would blur your lines.

You really wished he would stop doing that.

That night you after the ball, you were almost sure that he was developing feelings for you - finally - it’s why you tried to get him to finally tell you why the kiss bothered him.

Bucky never told you the truth, and you were too tired to keep digging.

You were glad that was the last time.

It was over. All of it was over.

Your stomach churns again and you decide to make yourself some tea and head to bed.

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angryinternetduck · 3 years

Text

yellow & blue

[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).

The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.

If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.

The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.

It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.

As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.

Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.

The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.

Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.

Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.

Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.

Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.

He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.

One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.

He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.

Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.

It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.

No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.

Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.

Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.

Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.

The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.

It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.

Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.

Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.

“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.

“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”

You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”

You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.

Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”

He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.

Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.

You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.

He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.

That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.

An actual, real live angel.

An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.

Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.

He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.

Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -

"Hey.”

Harry freezes.

For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.

There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.

“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.

“You’re welcome.”

The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.

“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.

Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.

A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.

Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.

Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.

“That would be something, huh?” you say.

“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”

You smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.

“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.

You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.

“See ya.”

You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.

Again.

Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.

You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.

But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.

That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.

The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.

Harry should get back to his table.

He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.

The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.

Feather was taken off the setlist.

Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.

That was very strange.

Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.

He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.

Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.

He cried a lot that night.

When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.

At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.

Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.

It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.

Because really, nothing gold can stay.

Not even the gold of a yellow suit.

***

ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.

thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles

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thedarkplume · 2 years

Text

Merry Christmas, Mrs. Rogers

for @autumnrose40 I hope you feel better soon!

Disclaimer: The characters within this story are the property of Marvel Comics and Disney. I only own my OC Pumpkin.

Warnings: None

All credit for this beautiful picture goes to @autumnrose40

Who gets sick on Christmas Eve? You did. That’s how much the universe hated you. Instead of spending your first Christmas Eve as a newly married woman, you were laying in bed sick and miserable, unable to even enjoy the light snow falling outside of your window. You should be making cookies and singing softly to Santa Baby, pretending that you don’t notice your husband checking you out.

Worse than being sick, you were unable to pick up your very special Christmas gift.

Sure, you knitted Steve a very nice sweater and bought brand new art supplies because now that he was retired, he felt the inspiration to draw again.

Incidentally, art was the reason you met Steve Rogers. You were at a very low point in your life. You cut the strings on an ex who went behind your back telling lies to your former friends who collectively froze you out. You needed something to lift your spirits and your esteem. You signed up to take a life drawing class. That seemed like the perfect place to start. You were no Picasso, but you loved your art classes in school. The problem was, was that you were wine drunk when you signed up and accidentally put yourself down as the model rather than the artist. You almost chickened out when you were given your robe. But this was what you wanted. Sort of. More than that, you needed to pull yourself out of this painful rut. And you did, wearing nothing but a blush. It was only when the class was over that you realized the Captain Steven Rogers was one of the artists. You might have been more embarrassed if he didn’t shyly ask you for coffee afterward.

But the gift you planned for Steve this Christmas was one of those once-in-a-lifetime gifts that you may never find again.

While you pouted, silently cursing your terrible luck, your phone chimed. Pumpkin, Sam Wilson’s wife, messaged you.

Has Hudson confirmed The Package yet?

You snorted a laugh, but that was a mistake because that led to a coughing fit that was sure to alert your husband toiling away in the kitchen for the two of you. But you couldn’t help it. Pumpkin was so corny it was cute. She and Sam were expecting their first child due in March. They were spending Christmas Eve with Sarah and the kids. Bucky and Nat spent the entire day with them yesterday before setting out for Clint and Laura’s. You tried not to feel sad about Steve having to miss out on being with the rest of the family because of your ill-timed illness.

Not yet. He said there was a 90% chance that it wouldn’t arrive until the new year 😫

😱 He normally works a little faster than that. I'm sorry. Did you get the videos I sent this morning?

Yes! Bucky singing Hungry Eyes to Natasha almost made me cough up a lung 😂

“Sweetheart? I heard you coughing.” You quickly ended the convo before Steve opened the door. “Do you need more medicine?”

You blanched unconsciously. There was no greater torture for you than drinking cough syrup. “No, no, baby, I’m fine. Promise.”

Steve, clearly not believing you, but unable to withstand the pout on your beautiful face, let it go. He came in carrying a serving tray. “I know how you feel about soup,” you hated soup because you could never make it like your Nana. “But I think you might like this. My mother used to make it for me and I think I got her recipe right.”

You smile ruefully knowing that you would love whatever he made. “Thank you.” You set up against the headboard. “I’m really sorry we’re missing spending time with everyone at Sarah’s.”

Steve’s soft pink lips thinned in consternation. “Stop that. You can’t help getting sick. Besides, Sam says that Sarah and Pumpkin are already planning a New Year’s weekend trip for everyone.” Steve carefully scooped up a spoonful of soup to feed you. Your heart fluttered a little bit.

You let the first taste settle on your tongue and hummed. Not only was it the perfect temperature, but you were instantly taken back to those summers you spent with your Nanna, dreading when it was time to leave.

“Oh, Stevie,” your eyes filled with tears. “It’s perfect.”

Steve beamed and began to tell you all about how he made it. Not only did he make you soup, Steve even made your tea exactly how you liked it on the rare occasions you picked tea over coffee, and your favorite cookies. Unfortunately for you, Steve bargained before letting you have even a nibble of the cookies.

“Just one more dose and you can have all the cookies you want.”

“Stevie,” you whined, turning your head away from the spoon like a fussy toddler. “I hate it. It makes me gag.”

“I know it’s disgusting, but you have to take it to get better, honey. Will you do it for me? Please?”

You pouted even harder. Steve looking at you with his eyes so blue and filled with care and love was completely unfair. “You fight dirty, Mr. Rogers.”

“Only when it’s for you, Mrs. Rogers.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed the bitter liquid quickly. You don’t gag, but a shudder racks the length of your body. “Oh my god, that’s nasty!” Steve quickly passed you a Gatorade to wash the icky taste out of your mouth.

“You know, I think you deserve something special for being such a good girl for me.”

“Stevie, I’m too gross and germy for playtime.”

Steve’s lips twitched. “Not that. I was thinking I would draw a bath for you and then we can spend some time by the fireplace if you feel up to it.”

“Yes,” you agreed quickly. Anything that would finally get you out of the bed. You loved every moment of being Mrs. Steve Rogers, but your husband was a complete Mother Hen whenever you got sick.

“I was hoping you would say yes.” Steve picked you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing and carried you to the bathroom. Steam billowed out and immediately, you inhaled the soothing scent of eucalyptus. Steve helped you out of your sleeping gown, blinking in surprise to find you completely bare underneath.

“Didn’t feel like wearing anything else,” you shrug with a blush.

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and growled, “just wait until you’re better, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve eased you into the perfectly temped water, your eyes closed involuntarily as an easy sigh escaped your lips. Steve washed your back and your hair. His long, strong fingers gently massaged your scalp as he told you an insanely hilarious story involving a bagel and three baby ducks during his latest dog walking expedition. Steve let you soak until the water grew lukewarm. Even sick, you knew how lucky you were to have a man who loved you so wholly and unconditionally.

He dressed you both in his and hers pajama onesies you bought as a joke. On the back of yours, it says, I Love His Beard, while Steve’s says, I Love Her Butt.

Of course, Steve refused to let you walk anywhere while you were sick. He carried you to the living room.

Your jaw dropped at the sight awaiting you. Steve had managed to move the couch and create a blanket and pillow fort across from the fireplace. The sheets were decorated with white fairy lights, your favorite movie was queued to play on the big screen, and Christmas music played softly from your vintage record player. The scent of baked cookies and your favorite candles created a soft ambiance to the scene.

“Oh, Steve, I love it!” He carefully set you down in the center of the pillows. “Wait, where are you going?” you made grabby hands at Steve when he started to pull away.

“I’m just going to run in the kitchen and grab some snacks,” he said, kissing your palm. “I’ll be right back.”

Steve returned a mini charcuterie board filled with all of your favorite fruits and cheeses and more of his delicious homemade cookies. You lay back against his chest as he fed you bites while the movie played in the background.

You barely made it twenty minutes into the movie when you began to succumb to the warmth of your husband’s arms. You were only planning to rest your eyes for a few minutes when there came a knock at the door.

“Who could that be?” you mumbled, still not ready to open your eyes.

“I’ll go see.” As a precaution to you, Steve slipped on his face mask before opening the door.

You tried to stay awake, but between the warmth from the bath and the coziness of the pillows and blankets, you were fighting a losing battle. It was only when you felt Steve’s lips against your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, your eyelids, and the tip of your nose did you force yourself to waken. Steve was perched above you, wide blue eyes filled with tears and wet cheeks.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“My Christmas present was just delivered.” You sat up, looking at the aged leather-bound photo album you ordered from Etsy for Hudson to use for the family photos he managed to track down. “How…?”

You cupped Steve’s damp cheeks in your hands. “I didn’t think it would be here in time, but Pumpkin told me about this guy she found who specializes in investigating family genealogy, and has a knack for restoring damaged photos. I snapped a picture of the painting you made of your mom and emailed it to him. Once I did, he was very eager to do it."

"I never thought I would see my mother's face like this again." Steve hugged you tightly, sobbing softly into your shoulder. "Thank you so much for this."

You carded your fingers through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp until his tears ran dry. "I'm so glad this made you happy, Stevie."

Steve pulled back, eyes red, but the biggest smile on his face. "Since you've done this for me, it's only right that I give you your gift." Steve grabbed a thinly wrapped package from under the tree. "I was going to wait until you were better, but..."

You eagerly opened the package. You were just like a little kid leading up to Christmas. There were many nights Steve put you over his knee for sneaking out of bed to shake your presents to try and get a sense of what they may be.

"Steve," you whispered, eyes roaming over the card. "There's a new addition to the Rogers family. Introducing Ellie."

"You named her after Carl's wife?"

"Well, Up was the last Disney movie to make you cry."

"I can't wait to meet her, Stevie! Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Rogers."

As the two of you sat wrapped in your blankets and pillows, Steve telling you everything he remembered about the members of his family in the pictures, and planning for the arrival of your first ever fur baby, you had no idea that this time next year, you two will have welcomed your first child.

#christmas fic #for my friend #christmas 2021 #merry christmas mrs. rogers #steve rogers

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Based on a wonderful song fic request I received from @itsametaphorbriansblog for the song Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat by Del Water Gap. I'd never heard the song before but trust me when I say it's awesome and my head was full with these lyrics. And yes, Alice in Wonderland is my favorite book.

Requested: Yes l No

CW: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of smut but nothing too explicit, some angst but happy ending.

Plot: Spencer wants to believe he can have a casual relationship with you. But just the thought of someone else touching you the way he does sends him into a tailspin. He wants you all to himself.

WC: 3.9K

—————————————————————

I do not want to fight this anymore

I just want to lay back

And watch you pin me to the bed

How he ended up here was somewhat of a mystery to Spencer but he had no intention of complaining.

He was sure he’d have time to think about it later, but right now all he was focused on was the way you pinned him to the bed, your soft hands wrapped around his wrists.

He was too enamoured taking in every beautiful curve of your body, the swell of your breasts and hips, the feeling of your silky thighs pressed against his own much hairier ones.

He drank you in as you kissed him, your tongue tasting like coffee and vodka. Your lips against his felt as though they’d found their rightful place in the world.

And when you finally lowered yourself on his throbbing member, everything else slipped away. The only thing in the world he could focus on was how fucking good it felt to have you wrapped around him.

It was as though all the stars had aligned and all his birthdays and christmases had come at once.

He never thought he’d have a shot with someone like you. This was better than even his wildest dreams.

I used to call you my best friend

Way back before you were my everything

Now I’m sucking on your neck

You’d worked together for several years and quickly became best friends. But there was always something more between you. Lingering glances, a few too many casual touches.

An odd tension that Spencer had never been able to put his finger on until the first time you saw each other naked and it vanished.

It had started after a few too many drinks at Rossi’s and ended in Spencer’s bed. That had been six months ago and since then the two of you spent all your free time between the sheets together.

It just made sense.

But you had made it clear it was simply sex, a means to an end. You were seeing another guy who knew about Spencer too. You told Spencer he was free to see other women.

He didn’t want to see other women. He only ever wanted to see you. He wanted to see you all the time, preferably naked and sitting on his cock.

He had agreed this was fine. He was ok with this arrangement. He’d told you he was fine with this other guy you were seeing if he was fine with you seeing Spencer.

Fine. Everything was just fine.

And you wrote my favorite song

Now I’m fucked up and carrying on

I do not know the words yet, oh

It had been a lie.

He thought he could separate the physical from his feelings but he wasn’t that kind of man. He wished he could be. But the idea of not having you all to himself made him feel sick.

And it hits me

I don't want anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

He thought he was ok with it until he was lonely in his apartment one night. He text you asking you to come over.

Your response told him you were with your other man. And he spiralled.

He couldn’t help his mind wander over the things you would be doing together.

Did he kiss you on your neck the way you loved? Did he know the way you liked to be touched?

Did he make you feel the way Spencer did? Did he make you come the way Spencer knew how?

The thought of you naked being pleasured by another man made his heart ache. Images of you touching him, being fucked by him, screaming his name; it was too much.

He wanted to be the only one who got to touch you like that; to see you at your orgasms peak.

It really wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to share you. He didn’t want to be left alone in his room wracked with sadness at the thought of you with another man.

Is it okay?

That I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

Yeah

“What did you get up to with Matt last night?” Spencer asked as he made you both coffees the next morning.

You rolled your eyes.

“Mark.” you sighed as you spoke. You knew Spencer knew his name, he had an eidetic memory for god sake. He was doing it deliberately.

“Matt, Mark same difference.” he shrugged, pouring sugar into his cup.

“We just hung out.” you took the other mug he’d filled and twirled your spoon around in it. “You know, usual stuff.”

You leant back against the counter, holding the warm mug between your hands and inhaling the smell.

Spencer turned to look at you.

You had a noticeable hickey on your neck, one he certainly hadn’t left. You must know he could see it.

“The usual stuff you and Morgan would do when you hang out or the usual stuff you and I do when we hang out?”

You rolled your eyes again and pushed yourself away from the counter and headed back towards your desk.

Spencer followed close behind you.

“Just because you don’t speak doesn’t mean you didn’t answer.” he whispered as he caught up with you. “Nice hickey.”

He practically stormed to his desk and threw himself in the chair.

You sighed to yourself. You should have known Spencer would be this way.

A little while later Morgan passed by your desk as you had your nose buried in a case file.

“Ohhh looks like pretty girl got some loving last night! The size of that mark on your neck Miss thing!”

You looked up at him, your cheeks stained crimson.

You made brief eye contact with Spencer. If you weren’t mistaken, his eyes were filled with tears.

He pushed his chair back and stormed away from where JJ and Emily were now getting a good look at your hickey too.

“What’s up with him?” Morgan frowned.

“I don’t think he’s feeling too good today.” You replied.

It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Tell me that nobody else touches you

Like I do, like I do

Oh, tell me that nobody else touches you like me

Tell me that nobody else touches you

Like I do, like I do

Oh, tell me that nobody else touches you like me

There was no case to take you out of the state and you were looking forward to going home.

Spencer caught up with you as you stepped in the elevator and shoved his way inside just before the doors closed.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked the second the doors shut behind him.

“Not tonight Spence, I’m exhausted.” you stifled a yawn as if to prove your point.

“Did you use all your energy on Mike?” he sounded so bitter.

“I did not use all my energy on Mark. I’m tired from dealing with a whiny, jealous baby all day.” you rolled your eyes yet again.

“I’m not jealous.” he scoffed. “Or whiny. Or a baby.”

“Sure you aren’t.” The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

You patted Spencer on his shoulder as you stepped out.

“Goodnight Spencer, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pouted a little as he watched you go.

Maybe it was time to just let you go entirely.

You’re pulling on my habit lines

The more I smoke the more I find

I can’t just fall asleep instead

One am and Spencer’s phone startled him awake. He was used to being called in the middle of the night for work so he was wide awake in an instant.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and put it to his ear.

“Reid.” he spoke, expecting it to be Hotch calling about a case.

“Hey,” your voice was low and sultry.

Spencer swallowed.

“What?” he knew what. He knew exactly what you were calling for.

He had to say no. He had to stay strong. He couldn’t keep giving in to you. Not anymore.

“You know what. Don’t play dumb Spence, it doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Well I’m touching myself.” you moaned softly. “But I do wish it was your hand between my legs.”

You heard a breathy sigh leave his lips. You knew that was enough to make him hard.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned. “I’ll be over in a half hour.”

You grinned as you hung up the phone.

Spencer wished he wasn’t so weak. He wished he could say no to you.

He wished he could tell you it was him or Mark. You had to choose.

He would if he didn’t fear the answer.

And you’re not my protector

I hope you know it wasn’t her

That kept me off your side of the bed, oh

He put his all in that night. He wanted to make you feel the best you’d ever felt so the next time you saw Mark you were thinking of him.

He made you come seven times, you honestly didn’t think you would walk for days after. By the time the sun came up you were so sensitive you didn’t know if you’d be able to dress for work without your clothes flustering your sensitive skin.

“Jeez Spence, I hope we’ve got another office day today.” You ached all over. “I don’t know if I’m going to be any good in the field like this.”

He felt an odd sense of pride. You’d remember this, you’d remember how good he’d made you feel.

He hoped he’d fucked Mark right out of your head.

And it hits me

I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like me

“Jesus pretty girl, your hickeys have hickeys!” Morgan chuckled as you walked into the BAU with no sleep and only one coffee in your system.

Spencer tried to hide the smug look from his face.

“Another night with your lover boy aye?” Emily nudged you in the arm as you made a beeline for the coffee machine.

He felt very good about himself right now.

“Speaking of your lover boy,” JJ piped up. “You had some flowers delivered this morning.”

Spencer’s face fell. No. No that wasn’t fair.

You forgot all about the coffee and headed to your desk where a beautiful array of red roses awaited you.

Spencer wanted to take them and stomp on them. The way you were stomping on his heart.

“Oh wow.” You smiled as you read the note. “How sweet.”

“If you ask me he’s trying too hard.” Spencer tried not to sound bitter or sad as he spoke. He failed miserably.

“Well good job no ones asking you.” You shot him an annoyed glance.

The tension suddenly grew thick. You and Spencer glared at one another while Morgan, Emily and JJ stared on in confusion.

“We have a case.” Hotch’s voice broke the stare off.

Thank god you thought. Saved before you had a chance to say something you’d regret.

You put the flowers down and headed towards the round table room. You heard Spencer shuffling behind you.

“What was that about?” JJ frowned.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Emily shrugged.

“I think I’ve got an idea.” Morgan smirked as the three of them started to follow. “Pretty boy has a crush on pretty girl.”

It is okay?

That I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like me

You barely said two words to Spencer in the four days you spent in Missouri unless it pertained to the case.

Everyone could tell something was amiss between the two of you. The team was so used to your playful banter and inside jokes you had with one another. It was painfully obvious something was going on.

It was late when you arrived back at Quantico so Hotch sent you all straight home.

Spencer caught up with you in the parking lot.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

“No.” You didn’t turn back to look at him as you headed to your car.

“Y/N please we need to talk.”

“I’m sick of this.” You groaned as you reached your vehicle. “You said you were ok with us seeing other people Spencer.” You spun back to look at him.

He was playing with the strap of his messenger back in an awkward fashion.

“Well...I’m not.” He shrugged.

“No shit.” You scoffed. “I’m sorry Spencer but I can’t do this anymore. I like Mark, he’s nice. We have fun.”

“So I’m not nice? You don’t have fun with me?” He stepped a little closer to you.

“You’re draining Spencer.” You confessed. “I once thought maybe you and I could be more than, whatever this is, but it’s exhausting Spence. With Mark it’s just easy. We spoke yesterday and he said he wanted us to get serious. No seeing other people. I told him I’d like that.”

Spencer’s heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. He felt as though you had punched the air from his lungs.

He fought for a breath, stumbling on his feet a little.

“You’re...you’re choosing him?”

“Yes.” You chewed your lip guilty. “I’m sorry Spencer but honestly, you’re too much like hard work.” You turned away from him and opened the drivers door, closing it quickly behind you before you changed your mind.

You watched Spencer in your rear view mirror as you pulled out of your parking space.

He hadn’t moved. He just stood there, dejected and sad staring in your wake.

You were barely out of the parking lot before your first tear fell.

You’re in his living room

And it may not mean much you

But your plates are in his sink

And your sweaters on his bed

Won’t you text me when you’re home?

My baby, spare me all the rest

It had been little over a month and Spencer wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He wouldn’t speak directly to you. He wouldn’t even be in the same room as you if he could help it.

At this point the whole team knew something was up. Hotch had pulled you both up on it but you’d both lied and said everything was fine.

Everything was far from fine.

Every night for just over a month Spencer had cried himself to sleep. He’d spent his waking hours in his apartment imaging what the two of you were doing.

Were you laughing at movies? Reading together? Having romantic dinners or walks in the park hand in hand? Were you making love over and over again?

His sleep was haunted by thoughts of you too. No where was safe. He’d started wondering if he could even work with you anymore. Maybe it was time to go into teaching?

Being around you every day just didn’t seem like an option anymore because every time he saw you, his heart broke all over again.

Please just tell me

That nobody else touches you like I do

Oh tell me that nobody touches you like me

It wasn’t just that he’d lost the woman he had started developing feelings for, he had lost his best friend too. He wanted to talk to someone about the heartache he was feeling and usually that someone would be you.

He wanted his best friend back. It was killing him.

He didn’t know how to deal with losing you so he didn’t. He didn’t know how to talk to you anymore so he stopped talking to you altogether.

The flower deliveries stopped after a few months which made it slightly easier for him to forget about you dating another man.

After about seven months your demeanor shifted a little. You stopped talking about Mark as much and were more vague about your weekend plans.

By the time it was coming up to a year you stopped talking about him entirely. When Spencer overheard you speaking to JJ or Emily about your weekend plans it was always along the lines of “TV and pizza for one.”

For Garcia’s birthday the whole team was going out for drinks at a local bar. Since you ended things with him Spencer avoided hanging out with the team outside of work when you would be there. He would always come up with some kind of excuse.

But Garcia was not the kind of person to take no for an answer.

So reluctantly he went along. Emily helped him pick out a gift for her, a unicorn charm for her bracelet. Certainly not something Spencer would have chosen but Emily insisted the tech analyst would love it.

Whilst in the jewelry store a delicate silver necklace had caught his eye. It had an intricate charm of a bottle with a little label with the words “Drink Me” etched into it.

It had taken him back to a conversation from years past.

You were still new to the team and trying to keep your head down and not get in anyone's way. The team was all so close and you didn’t want to step on any toes.

On the way back from your latest case in New York you didn’t sleep like the rest of the team. You were wide awake, probably on a high from the adrenaline brought on by the case.

You sat at the back of the jet alone with your head buried in a book. You didn’t notice someone watching you or approaching you until you heard the leather seat opposite you squeak a little as your company sat down.

You looked up to see Spencer smiling softly at you.

“What are you reading?” he asked with genuine interest.

You blushed a little chewing your lip, turning the book over in your hands.

“Alice in Wonderland.” you slid the old book across the table to him.

He picked it up cautiously and turned the worn pages.

“First edition.”

“Yeah.” you nodded as he looked back up at you. “It was my dad’s. He used to read it to me when I was young. He passed away a few years ago and it helps me feel close to him.” it was the most open you’d been since joining the team.

Spencer smiled at you sadly and handed you back the book.

“I’m sorry about your dad. But that’s nice you have that.”

“Yeah I suppose it is.”

Emily had stepped out of the store to take a phone call and he had found himself purchasing the necklace. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t help himself.

Garcia had loved her charm, she’d squealed and hugged him so tightly Spencer felt the air being squeezed from his lungs.

She opened the rest of her presents while the rest of the team drank. You and Spencer kept making accidental eye contact and each time you would both smile awkwardly at one another.

You got up from the table to buy a round of drinks. Spencer watched you go. It would be his perfect chance to get to talk to you. He needed to know what was going on. Had you and Mark split up? And if you had, did that mean there was anyway he still stood a chance with you?

He’d wanted to ask for so long but every time he went to say something, the words got stuck in his throat, refusing to leave.

But this time he was determined. He needed to know where he stood once and for all.

At the very least could he get his best friend back?

And it hits me

I don’t want anybody else touching you

Like I do

Like me

“Thought you might need a hand.” Spencer sidled up next to you. It was the closest you’d been to one another in almost a year.

“Thanks.” you smiled softly, a little awkwardly.

You looked at each other for a moment, neither of you sure what to say to each other.

Not so long ago the two of you could talk about anything and everything until you were blue in the face. You never ran out of things to talk to each other about. So much had changed.

Spencer reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the small jewelry box. He turned it over in his hand a few times before he held his hand out.

“I saw this when I was getting Garcia’s birthday present and I couldn’t help myself.” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

You chewed your lip as you cautiously took the box from him. You ran your fingers over it for a few seconds before you slowly opened it.

Tears immediately sprang to your eyes as you looked down at the little Alice in Wonderland themed necklace cushioned inside the box.

You looked back up at Spencer with a sniff.

“Spence,” a small tear escaped your eye. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything about you.” he shrugged again.

You sniffed back any more tears that might fall and gently lifted the necklace from the box.

“Could you help me?” you held it out for Spencer who nodded and took the necklace from you.

He unclasped it as you turned around. He gently draped it around your neck and secured it.

You turned back to face him, you fingers on the necklace charm.

“Thank you so much Spencer, I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled. “I hope Mitch doesn’t mind you wearing it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“We broke up.” you didn’t bother to correct him on his name. “A few months ago.”

“Oh.” Spencer tried not to look too pleased about this. “Do you mind me asking why?”

“I think you know why.” you stepped a little closer to him. “He wasn’t the right man for me.”

“Oh.” he squeaked a little. “That’s uhm...I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No you aren’t.” you laughed, stepping even closer to him.

You placed your hands carefully on his shoulders and you felt him practically melt into your touch.

“Anyway I’m the one that should be sorry.” you whispered.

“For what?” he croaked, feeling weak at your proximity.

“For choosing the wrong man. I should have known better.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, your body so close he could feel your warmth. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but I have a guilty pleasure for rom-coms.”

“You’ve definitely never told me that before. I would have remembered giving you a hard time for that.” he laughed a little and so did you.

“Yeah, I figured as much.” you nodded. “Anyway, with my extensive knowledge of rom-coms I should have known.”

“Should have known what?” he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“That the girl always ends up with the best friend.” and with that you pressed your lips against his.

Spencer immediately took hold of your face in his hands and deepened the kiss.

You didn’t care that your whole team was probably watching. You didn’t care the whole bar could have been watching. All you cared about was Spencer.

When the kiss broke you both had tears in your eyes. You kept your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist to keep you close.

“I never want to have to think about someone else touching you the way I do again Y/N. I want to be the only person who gets to touch you.”

“Ok.” you smiled brightly at him. “But only if I get to be the only person who gets to touch you.”

Spencer laughed, kissing you again.

“That my love,” he smiled. “Is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Is it okay?

That I don’t want

Anybody else touching you like I do

Like I do

Like me

—————————————————————

Taglist (find my tagist form here if you want to be added) -

All ships and genres -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl

@measure-in-pain

@ptrs-prkrs

@sexy-dumpster-fire

All SR x Reader -

@boxofsparklingmuses

@frickin-bats

@reidandhisgourd

@ukai-hoe

SR x Reader one shots -

@seasonfivereid

@willowrose99

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

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outerbankspreferences · 3 years

Text

Is It Just Me? - Chase Stokes

Is It Just Me – Chase Stokes

Word Count: 2893

MASTERLIST

It's been way too long for me to find it this hard Sitting alone, my fingers picking the sofa apart An attempt to distract from the fact that I miss you I wonder if your friends have had to carry you home And stay for the night because they don't want to leave you alone Way before it was fun, it's becoming an issue

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

It had been exactly 3 months and 13 days since you and Chase had broken up. You wished it would have been a shock to you, but you had seen this coming. Things with Chase were great in the beginning. He was caring and sweet towards you. You could remember a time someone had cared for you as he had. You always supported Chase with everything he wanted to do with his life. You met him when he had just started out acting, and you were proud to watch his career blossom to the extent it had.

But had someone told you 6 months ago that you guys wouldn’t be together anymore you would have denied the accusations. 6 months ago, you thought Chase was in love with you.

Chase had been going back and forth to North Carolina for auditions and eventually got the leading role in the television series. You spent the first month with him and his new cast mate Rudy, having the time of your lives with the other people on the show. The whole cast would go out to different clubs every weekend enjoying spending time together.

Just a little over 6 months later you were still going to clubs but this time on separate sides of the country. You couldn’t process what had happened in a healthy manner and instead turned to going out with your friends every weekend to keep your mind off things. It always ended the same, one of your friends dragging you up the stairs of your once shared apartment because you were too drunk to do it yourself. They had grown accustomed to the weekend ritual of getting you sleep wear and a bucket for the morning.

Then you would wake in the morning, puking the nights content in the bucket popping Advil for the headache and dragging yourself to couch, throwing on some stupid movie that you wouldn’t be able to watch anyways. Instead, you would pick at the loose strings of the sofa thinking of all the times you spent in the apartment with Chase.

Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

As you sit picking away at the sofa, you mind wanders to Chase. You still follow everyone on Instagram, and you were still good friends with Rudy, so you could see everyone’s stories. Rudy had been the only one to keep in touch with you, which surprised you because he and Chase seemed to be such good friends.

You wondered if Rudy ever asked about you to Chase, and then you wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Would his heart be in his stomach at every mention of your name, or would he simply shrug like you guys had never been more then distant friends?

You sat wondering if Chase ever thought back to the day at the airport. The way he let you walk through security with no more then just a side a hug you would give a sibling. Wishing you a good flight and see you later before leaving. He hadn’t even waited for you to board the plane.

There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You want to tell him you loved him, that you would fight for him. More so you wanted him to fight for you, for the years you had spent together. To fight for the promises he made to you, the ones you made together and the ones to come. You wanted to apologize for not being enough, but you couldn’t find the right words, so you watched him walk out of your life.

I heard a rumor you've been spending some time With that blonde girl that you work with and I know she's exactly your type And my miserable mind's running wild with the picture Or are you there by yourself, dialing, redialing my number? And I'm calling your mother, spilling tears on my jumper again The way I am

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

1 month later, Chase’s mother, Jennifer, had called you because she had seen the announcement on Instagram. The two of you had been close while dating Chase considering how close he was with her. Your mother lived down south, and you didn’t get to see her that often, so Jennifer was a close second.

You had heard rumors from Drew and Rudy about Chase and Maddie hanging out together more, and it didn’t come as a shock to you. In the last bit of your relationship, you played second fiddle to her on multiple occasions. “It’s probably nothing, it because they have scenes together.” Rudy would make excuses over facetime when he watched your face drop at the mention of her name. “Yeah, you’re probably right, nothing to get worked up over.” You responded in a less then convincing tone, “she seemed super cool the couple of times I met her.” “Yeah she is. I think under different circumstances the two of you could have been friends.” He encouraged.

When the nights started to get cold in LA again you found yourself struggling to sleep. It was at these times you would reread old text messages and look through old pictures of the two you. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you weren’t ready to move on. Chase had extra time to mourn the lose of the relationship while you were still grieving. It was on these cold nights alone in the apartment you shared that you began to wonder if he was thinking about you. Was he sitting next to her thinking about you? Was he wondering whether he should call you or just delete your number?

It was early in the morning in North Carolina and Chase was sitting on the patio of his shared apartment with Rudy. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance as he found himself restless yet again. He had been awake for about an hour just laying in his bed when he finally decided to get up. He was careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to him. She felt different next to him compared to you. When the two of you slept together you always liked to be the big spoon. Chase let you, finding comfort being wrapped up in bed next to you. Maddie was different, she preferred to lay her head on his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart lull her into sleep.

Not soon after Rudy came on the patio too, and Chase cursed him for being a night owl. “Not tired?” Rudy asked pulling out the bong they kept under the table. “No, and I didn’t want to wake Mads’” Chase spoke up tossing Rudy the lighter next to him watching the blonde inhale the smoke.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chase finally spoke up, keeping a hushed tone just in case. “Oh yeah?” “I shouldn't have left her like that. It wasn’t fair to her I just didn’t know what to do.” Chase explained and Rudy didn’t need to be a love doctor to know he was talking about you.

“It’s been 2 weeks, she’s okay.” Rudy explained and Chase gave him a confused look. “When you guys broke up, I stayed in touch with her. She was mine friend too, and I felt bad that we all sort of dropped her when you guys broke up.” Chase nodded his head in understanding but was still jealous that Rudy got to talk to you. “Why did you break up with her? Not that I’m judging, I just thought things were going good between the two of you.”

It was Chase’s turn to have a hit from the bong while he thought of his answer. “Shit man I don’t know. Things just feel different with Maddie then they did Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” “Are you sure you’re not feeling too much as an actor oppose to being a person. Sometimes having a love interest on show can be different and confusing.” The blonde tried explaining to him but even he saw the demise of the relationship before Chase start acting with Madelyn. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Chase asked looking at Rudy and he could tell by the look in his eyes that it was doubtful. “You hurt her man. I think maybe one day, but not right now. I think right now she’s just trying to figure out how to do this without you.” Rudy could see the few tears in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t easy on him ether.

Chase got up but before leaving he spoke one more time. “If you talk to her again, just tell her that I never meant to hurt her the way I did.” Chase still wasn’t sleepy but the effects of the marijuana did aid in his problem, so he finished off with a shower. He turned the water to steaming hot and then got in. He let the water soak his hair while he wondered what you were doing right now. It only took a few more minutes for the tears to start. Chase stayed another hour in the shower wondering if he made the right decision.

'Cause this would be one whole lot easier God, I know that's selfish but it's true If underneath some calm exterior You're all fucked up too

The first few months of quarantine had been rough on you working from home. You also felt alone all the time but seeing Chase’s Instagram post sent you spiraling down another unhealthy path. You had just started to get better. You weren’t drinking as much, and you had let your friends set you up on a group date. You knew you weren’t ready for another relationship just yet, but you also couldn’t hide in your apartment for the rest of your life.

You had also been talking to Rudy a lot more. He had been your biggest support through all of this. He had flown back to LA a couple weeks ago to help you move to a new apartment. You figured if you were going to move on you had to move from the place you spent the most time with Chase. It was bittersweet because not only did you have good memories at the home with Chase, but those memories extended to your other friends as well. Rudy had ensured you that you would make knew memories in your new place.

But when you woke up on June 14, 2020 you almost had a heart attack. It had been 3 months and 13 days to the day, and he had already moved on. Now you were stuck trying to grabble with the emotions you were feeling. In some messed up way at first you didn’t want him to be happy. You wanted him to hurt the way you did, but you knew it wasn’t right. There was a small part of you that was happy that he was now happy.

Then you were reminded that you owed Chase his half of the damage deposit. Rudy had told you they all moved back to LA and were waiting for season one to come out. You debated on just giving the money to Rudy for him to pass along, but you also wanted to face Chase, to show him that you were now okay even it was a lie.

You took the latter of the chooses and sent him a text. (Y/N) It’s Y/N, I have your half of the damage deposit from the apartment. I can drop it off or you can pick it up if you want. You stared at the text message for fifteen minutes before sending it. It only took five for him to answer and you dashed to look at the phone. (C) Oh shit I forgot about that. I mean if you want to keep it, that’s fine. You scowled at the text. You didn’t need or want his pity money. (Y/N) I’m fine without it, if your busy I can send it with Rudy the next time he’s here. (C) Okay, no that’s fine I can come by today and get it just air drop me your address. You did just that deciding against messaging him back.

Chase’s heart fluttered a little when he saw your name come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard from you in months, and he assumed it was going to be about the post on his Instagram. He made the decision that Maddie made him the happy he wanted to be and left you. He had just gotten back in town when you told him about the deposit, and he didn’t mind letting you keep the money. It was the least he could do after everything he put your though. His heart sank when you declined his offer but lite back up when you offered for him to come over.

He honestly thought of this as his chance to apologize for everything that happened. You didn’t deserve for him to treat you like that, and he owed you an explanation. He drove over to your house, white knuckled the whole way. You lived in a small, gated apartment building and he remembered Rudy telling Maddie B. about it. He remembered Rudy saying how excited you were for a new place, and he wasn’t sure if Rudy was just saying that to upset him. Every time Rudy mentioned something about you it always made his heart sink underground and he was reminded about the way he treated you.

Chase started to walk up the stairs to your apartment once you buzzed him in but to his surprise you were waiting outside on the step. You looked tired and had lost weight which worried him because you were small to begin with. “Hey.” He spoke not really knowing what else to say. “Hi.” You said and he could hear how sore your voice sounded almost like you had been crying. You were smoking, which was something new, but he figured this was just as stressful for you as it was him You handed him an envelope with his name on it. “Uh, I cleaned the whole apartment, and nothing was broken so we could all the money back. Your half is in there, so I just need your key to give to the landlord.” You explained looking at Chase. He pulled his keys from his pocket fumbling with the ring.

“Y’know, I never meant”- “Please don’t” “Please don’t want?” Chase looked at you confused. He thought you wanted an apology. “I can’t listen to it Chase. I know it’s mean, but I’m not ready to hear you apologize. I’m just starting to get better, and I don’t need you to set me back again.” You explained looking him the eyes. He flinched when you said again. He handed the key back to you. “Thanks, I hope everything works out. I’ll make sure to watch the show.” You smiled at him and he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing you smile. He returned the smile before turning on his heels to leave. “For the record Y/N, you weren’t the only one to get hurt in this.” And it was your turn to flinch at his words. “I guess grief looks better on some people.” And with that you escaped back into your apartment sliding down the door letting out a silent cry. What you didn’t know was that Chase was going back to his car to the same thing.

TAGLIST:

@drewstarkeysbitchh @taylathornton @jjmaybankzz @lemur46

#chase stokes #chase stokes x reader #chase stokes outerbanks #chase stokes x y/n #chase stokes x you #chase stokes imagine #chase stokes imagines #chase stokes angst #chase stokes heartbreak #chase stokes fluff #outerbanks

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

Note

hi! i dont know if you've done something similar for renouncement verse but lwj getting baby rearing tips from lqr would be really cute uwu

(brief author’s note: please please reblog, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Two weeks after Wei Shuilan’s full-moon party, Lan Xichen orders Wei Ying to get some fresh air and take a trip down to town with the juniors.

“I’m ordering it as your physician,” he scolds, as Lan Wangji kisses his husband’s forehead and slips a packed lunch into his qiankun bag, just in case Wei Ying doesn’t like any of the delicacies Caiyi has to offer; having A-Lan altered his sense of taste, among other things, and made him more partial to sweet and bitter flavors as well as spicy-sour ones. “You haven’t left the Cloud Recesses in months.”

“Xichen-ge,” Wei Ying says, rolling his eyes, “you try taking those stairs when you can barely fit through the door. Or fly in a straight line without overbalancing, for that matter.”

He has a point, Lan Wangji thinks. A-Lan is a very round baby, big enough for her age that some of the guests at the full-moon feast asked if they were holding the party late, and it had certainly showed on Wei Ying’s slender figure in the weeks before her arrival.

“Well, you ought to go now,” Lan Xichen urges. “It’s a wonderful day, and A-Lan’s asleep. Go stretch your legs, and then come back and rest as soon as you feel tired.”

So Wei Ying had gone, leaving the Cloud Recesses with a kiss for Lan Wangji before flying off on A-Yuan’s sword and vanishing into the cloudy mist hanging over the Caiyi River.

After that, Lan Wangji settles down in the jingshi to wait for his husband’s return, placing his baby daughter on the bed beside him and starting on the mountain of official correspondence he’s been neglecting since A-Lan was born. Most of them are congratulations and well-wishes for the baby, along with a select few (which Lan Wangji sets on fire the second he opens them) consoling the Chief Cultivator for the one child of his blood being a daughter, and assuring him that the next baby will surely be a boy.

Upon further reflection, Lan Wangji points a finger at the ashes in the hearth and incinerates them a second time. The thought of his little daughter ever facing anything but the honor and worship due to an empress sets his teeth on edge, and it takes only a moment of thinking until he decides to put off answering the guilty clan’s request for a second representative in Lanling’s council for as long as he can.

But unfortunately for him, the sound of the snapping fire jolts poor A-Lan awake, and she gives a soft, confused little gurgle before lifting her head and looking around. Lan Wangji lifts her into his lap, humming Wangxian beside her tiny ears as she begins to whimper—but his efforts are in vain, because the baby bursts into tears and refuses to stop crying no matter what he does to calm her.

“A-Lan,” he says, more than a little shocked—because he has never heard A-Lan cry like this, not since that first shrieking wail when she first found herself out in the world six weeks ago. But A-Lan keeps crying, even after he tries changing her smallclothes (needlessly, since her diaper was freshly changed when Wei Ying left the jingshi) and puts her in another blanket to keep her warm, and no amount of rocking or singing or even a cool bath proves useful in the slightest.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Lan Wangji asks urgently. “A-Lan, baobei—”

Shuilan only draws her tiny legs up to her chest and sobs, rubbing her fat fists into her eyes as if the whole universe was against her, and the realization hits Lan Wangji so suddenly that he nearly falls to the floor, baby and all.

“It’s because Wei Ying isn’t here,” he says wretchedly. “It is, isn’t it? You’re not sick, surely—he’s coming back, A-Bao. Don’t cry, your A-Die is coming back.”

But with such a little baby as A-Lan, how was she to know? All A-Lan knew was that she spent the first ten moons of her life safe inside Wei Ying, listening to his precious heartbeat and kicking out at his affectionate touches when he tried to feel for her head or her hands, and then she was in his arms instead, but still never so far away from him that she could not hear his voice. And now Wei Ying is gone, and A-Lan has rightfully taken his absence for the calamity that it is.

Lan Wangji remembers his sixteen years of mourning after Wei Ying fell from his grasp and plunged to his death in Qishan, and wonders how frightened Shuilan must be that Wei Ying has disappeared without any explanation her infant mind can understand. Neither of them have left her side since she was born, so for one of her parents to disappear without explanation, and for it to be Wei Ying who had disappeared—

He nearly bursts into tears himself, just thinking about it.

Naturally, it is at that moment—with half of Lan Wangji’s layers sliding off his shoulders, A-Lan screaming herself hoarse, and sweat dripping down her father’s pale face—that Lan Qiren lets himself into the house, apparently expecting to find a peaceful nephew and great-niece before he walks into the middle of a virtual tornado instead.

“Wangji?” he calls, as Lan Wangji drags himself into the front room in all his miserable, disheveled glory. “What is the matter? Have you fed her?”

“I have fed her, changed her, checked her temperature, and made sure all her clothes were loose enough,” he says, distraught. “Perhaps I will take her to the healing ward, just to make sure she is well. Good afternoon, Shufu.”

“You examined her with your lingli, didn’t you? She’s not sick.”

“No, but—”

“Give her here,” his uncle sighs, holding out his arms for the child. “Now, bring me that square blanket on the divan, and watch closely.”

While Lan Wangji watches, Lan Qiren lays the blanket out on the bed and folds it into a triangle, and then he places A-Lan onto it with her fluffy round head above the folded edge and packs her into a tight bundle with one arm waving freely outside it.

“Shufu,” Lan Wangji ventures, brow furrowed. “What are you—”

“Quiet,” Lan Qiren instructs him. “Pay attention, Wangji.”

He folds up the bottom corner of the blanket, laying it over A-Lan’s chest and her chubby bent legs, and then he folds the other half around her like a bamboo string around a zongzi, trapping her flailing fist against her body before handing her back to her father.

“There,” he says, satisfied. “See?”

A-Lan’s sobs are already calming down, and a moment later she blinks in confusion and goes straight back to sleep.

Lan Wangji gapes at her. “What did you do, Uncle?” he wonders. “I already tried wrapping her, but this…”

“That is how a baby should be swaddled,” Lan Qiren scolds. “You and Wei Ying wrap her like a pancake roll, and it does well enough most of the time. But when a child this small is in distress, it can be helpful to remind them of their time in the womb, and put them in a similar position with a swaddling blanket. What made A-Lan cry so?”

“She missed Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says dully. “He went to Caiyi with Sizhui and Xiaohui, and she woke early from her nap and cried when she realized he was gone.”

I remember weeping because Wei Ying was gone, he doesn’t say. She seemed as heartbroken as I was, back then.

“Ah,” his uncle murmurs. “A word of advice, Wangji. When you are overtaxed, and dealing with a child in distress, your discomfort will inevitably worsen theirs. I learned this by trial with your brother, and it ended with him stopping his tears and laughing for me because he hated to see me cry.”

It sounds so much like Lan Xichen that Lan Wangji feels his throat swell. “En?”

“In such times, seek help before you become overwrought,” Lan Qiren advises him. “I am here, as is Xichen, and the nursery teachers who cared for you both when you were little. You and your husband are not alone, in any aspect of your lives, and it would be a joy to all of us to aid you.”

And then Lan Qiren makes tea and shoos Lan Wangji back to the bedroom, where he sinks down onto the bed with the baby snoring quietly in his arms and falls asleep himself.

When Wei Ying returns an hour later, he declares that everything must have gone perfectly for both of them to be so at ease.

“I didn’t want to leave you!” he laughs, cuddling a squealing A-Lan to his breast and waving a handful of new toys over her curious little face. “But you were as cool as a cucumber, Lan Zhan! Why can’t I be like you?”

“It was not so smooth as I hoped it would be,” Lan Wangji confesses. “But everything was all right in the end, xingan. My shufu is a very good teacher.”

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian arranged marriage au #renouncement verse #my fic #wei shuilan #lan qiren #lan wangji #wei wuxian

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

I1+Nalu Only one bed @thegalilea3 request

The wedding of Laxus and Mirajane Dreyar was a cozy affair attended by only close family and friends. Neither had really wanted a lavish event, so a simple morning ceremony and luncheon in a beautiful garden was perfect. The bride and groom instead funneled the majority of their budget into food, drinks, and overnight lodging for the guests at a small nearby hotel. Lucy Heartfilia was happy to see her friend finally married and settled because Mira deserved it.

Though there was one odd thing about the luncheon— assigned seating. With only 21 people including the bride and groom, it seemed unnecessary. Plus, everyone except Lucy and one other person were a couple anyways. Maybe it was to ensure everyone was accounted for, only Mira knew. As it was, it also meant Lucy was sat next to the only other single... Natsu Dragneel. It was a bit weird, but not a big deal. Natsu was her close friend after all.

The day was perfect in every regard. Clear skies, light breeze with warm sunshine, great food, and jovial company. It was a nice reprieve from Lucy’s job in the city. She missed spending time with her friends, especially Natsu and this provided a perfect couple of days to relax in the countryside. They were best friends, her unrequited high school crush until adulthood sent them onto different paths. University, then careers. The pair stayed in touch as often as possible, but both were busy in their endeavors.

“How has it been at the magazine,” Natsu questioned Lucy. “I see you’ve made it to junior editor.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “yeah, but it’s still a glorified title. I’m really just my bosses assistant.”

“It’s still a big step,” he smiled back.

“What about you?”

“They’re sending me to EMT training next month. So, I’ll be a specialized firefighter.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“I guess,” Natsu shrugged, “I prefer the action.”

Lucy chuckled, eyes crinkling in a smile, “same ‘ole Natsu.”

“Hey you two,” Mirajane waved as she walked over. “How is everything?”

“Hi Mira! Everything is perfect, you did a fantastic job planning it.”

“Aww, thanks Lucy.”

“I was surprised that Laxus finally caved.”

Lucy slapped Natsu’s chest for the comment, but if only made Mira laugh.

“I threatened to leave if he didn’t just get this over with. Anyway, the reason I came over is I just received a call from the hotel and it seems they made a mistake in my booking. Instead of 11 rooms, they only booked 10. Unfortunately... they’re also full.”

“So, what does that mean?” Natsu questioned the woman.

“Well, as singles I had booked you guys your own rooms, because the couples have theirs, which means one of you now doesn’t have one.”

“Oh. It’s okay Mira, I can try and find a room elsewhere for the night,” Lucy chimed in. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why don’t we just share it?” Natsu then suggests to Lucy. “When we check in, we’ll just ask for a room with two beds.”

“Are you sure,” both Lucy and Mira questioned at the same time.

“Why not? I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Lucy would you be okay with that?” Mira questioned her friend. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lucy looked at Natsu, then back to Mira. “I’ll be okay. I mean, he’s not a stranger to me.” She laughed although inside she was a bit nervous about sharing a room with him.

“I won’t bite,” Natsu put his hands up in defense. “I swear.”

“Weirdo!” Lucy laughed.

Mira laughed as well. “Great! I’ll let the hotel know the room will be a double occupancy. You guys enjoy the rest of party. Check in is anytime after 4pm.”

“Thanks Mira. And congratulations again!”

Everything will be fine, Lucy assured herself. It’s just Natsu. She knows Natsu. He’s harmless. Spending one night alone together won’t kill her. Just think of it as more time to catch up. Maybe find out why he’s still single. ‘Stop that!’ Lucy chided her mind. She is not asking him that kind of question! Even though she is curious... more so now after having spent the last 4 hours being reminded of what a great guy he was. All the reason she’d crushed on him, his warmth, oof, his smile...

“Wait what?!” Lucy shrieked at the hotel receptionist. “There’s no rooms with two beds?”

“I’m very sorry ma’am, but we only have a few of those and they’re all taken already.”

“What about a roll-away?”

Again the woman shook her head. “We’re just a small country inn. We don’t have those.”

“Oh... my god...” Lucy breathed out. She’d have to share a bed with Natsu?!

Speaking of the man, at that moment, he gently coaxed Lucy away from the receptionist. “We’ll make it work, don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” he assured the woman. “Just give us the keys and we’ll be on our way.”

Once inside of the hotel room, Lucy surveyed their predicament. It was a king sized bed. Great, at least it provided a decent amount of space between them, and it was a very nice room... a bit too nice compared to a standard hotel room. Strange, but maybe it was the only option left because of the full capacity. Well, guess it wasn’t such a bad thing. She could think of it as a sleepover, like the kind they would have when they were teenagers.

The first thing Lucy did was change out of her formal party attire into something comfortable. When she exited the bathroom, Natsu was lounging on the bed, looking through the pamphlets the hotel left on the nightstand.

“What’re you reading?” She questioned him.

“It’s a pretty small hotel, no services, but they do have a restaurant open for lunch and dinner... oh and a pool.”

Lucy hadn’t brought a swim suit, so the pool was out of the question. “What time is the restaurant open till?”

“Um... 9pm.”

“Good. I’m not hungry yet, but in a couple of hours I will be.”

For the rest of the evening Natsu was weirdly quiet. He talked as needed, but it almost felt to Lucy as if he was trying to avoid something. Or maybe it was all in her head. Maybe Natsu was just as nervous as she was about arraignment and was doing his best not to make it uncomfortable. Their conversations were pleasant enough, catching up on their lives, their families, any new interests they may have developed. They’d become functional members of the community in careers they enjoyed. For all intents and purposes, their lives were normal, happy on the surface.

Around 11pm the pair agreed it was time to get some shut eye. It had been a long and contented day, but tomorrow they’d return to their own lives. They chose their respective sides, turning off the light and settled into bed facing away from each other.

As Lucy lay there, she reflected on how things had turned out and of their day. The thoughts in her mind loud against the silence of the darkened room. It felt weird, knowing Natsu lay less then two feet away. Or maybe it was simply weird sleeping in a bed with another person. It had been a couple years since her last failed relationship, so she wasn’t used to this feeling anymore. She didn’t know how many minutes had passed by when she’d heard Natsu shift in the bed and his voice, soft and hesitant cut through the inky blackness.

“Do you ever think about... us Lucy?”

What does he mean? “Us?” She parroted.

“I do sometimes,” Natsu continued. “I think about, what our lives would be like if I’d grown some balls and asked you out years ago... where would we be today?”

Lucy’s breathing slowed as she processed his words. Had she thought of it? Moisture slowly filled her eyes. Yes— yes she had, many, many times over the years. Every time a relationship failed, she thought about it. But she never blamed him because she was just as guilty for not saying something sooner. Yet here he was posing such a question.

Her eyes closed as she spoke. “What are you trying to say Natsu?” She felt him turn over and shift again, then a hand pulling, coaxing her to face him. Once she’d switched sides, Lucy could see his shadowed face, oozing with regret.

“I’m saying...” Natsu reached out and took her hand. “I wish we were an us. I’m saying I want to lay like this every night next to you, to wake up beside you, come home to you. Im saying... I don’t want this to end.”

Lucy squeezed his hand back. “Idiot!” Tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I was afraid! Okay?! I thought you deserved better than me and I’d just hold you back!”

“Better?! It was always better together! All these years I’d been lonely and miserable cause no one could replace you!”

“I’m sorry!!”

A few seconds after the last words are screamed, laughter broke out from the two. Unrefined laughter at their own stupidity. They’d both been pining all these years and it took being stuck in a room together for it all to come crashing out.

“Natsu...” Lucy squeezed his hand again, “I’d really love to be an us too.”

He reached over and caressed her face. “I’ve always loved you Lucy, and I wanna make up for all the years we lost. But I have a confession to make.”

Oh, god what the hell now?! “What are you, actually married? No, divorced? Secret kids?! What?!” Lucy trembled as her euphoria threatened to crash down again.

Natsu scratched the back of his head nervously. “No! Nothing like that. The hotel didn’t make a mistake. Mira and I set this up so I could confess. I’d planned to do it earlier but couldn’t work up the nerve until I realized I was running out of time again...”

“Ohhh! Is that it?!” Lucy’s head lolled as she groaned. “You damn goof! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Im sorry!” He chuckled. “I just didn’t want you to find out later. And don’t blame Mira, it was my idea. I’ll make it all up, I promise. I’ll make you forget about those years of loneliness. I’m gonna make you so happy you—”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu?”

“Huh, yeah?”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

#nalu fanfiction #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #request #one bed

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awritingtree · 4 years

Text

Never Enough (2/7)

Sirius Black x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N Black is back at Hogwarts after running away from her father’s, Sirius Black’s, house during the summer. The year passes by and soon it’s the end of the year, with the OWLS finished. What happens when she finds out that her father was captured by Voldemort?

Words: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, shitty father-daughter relationship, self-deprecating thoughts.

A/N: I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! I know there isn’t a lot of Sirius x reader interactions in this chapter. There are some indirect interactions - or lack of. But I felt it was important to have this chapter and not skip a whole year from the summer to the end of 5th year. It also allowed to me to give more insight into the reader’s feelings. And I realize some parts seem rushed but like they aren’t really that important so... This chapter was important for the entire plot I have planned because we all know what’s coming in the next chapter :) Anyways I hope you enjoy this filler chapter in the mean time xx

Series Masterlist

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The rest of your enjoyable summer back home with the Tonks flashed by and the next thing you knew, you were boarding the Hogwarts Express on September 1st. The return to Hogwarts was accompanied by a change in season, the green leaves changing colours ranging from red to orange to yellow; falling, leaving the trees bare. Following autumn came winter, which passed by just as fast. The grounds covered in soft snow, crunching beneath the feet of the various students making their way in and out of the castle.

Christmas arrived sooner than you’d thought. The white layer made the world look so pure, so peaceful. You had opted out of going home for Christmas. Any chance of actually staying home would be impossible with the Order of the Phoenix still in place at 12 Grimmauld Place. Since you hadn’t returned, you had sent Mr. Weasley a get-well-soon present on top of his Christmas gift.

So instead you had spent the holidays at Hogwarts in the company of your Slytherin friends, spending your days reading, enjoying the grand feasts in the Great Hall and catching up on some much-needed sleep. You had expected a gift, but you were left disappointed as you saw the only presents lying at the foot of your bed were from the Tonks, Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and your Slytherin friends. Lying in bed that night, your memories took you to a time somewhere around the beginning of November.

“Ew! Could you maybe consider showering before deciding to show up in public?” Parkinson’s whiny voice entered your ears as you ventured into the Great Hall on a Saturday morning.

Your broomstick was tucked in your underarm as you tied off one end of your French-braided hair. You wore your green and silver quidditch uniform messily, having rushed out of bed from waking up late. You had decided not to take a shower beforehand, knowing you’d get filthy all over again in a matter of a few hours. The sleepiness was still visible on your face, eyes drooping with weariness.

“Piss off Parkinson. Go drool over Draco elsewhere if my appearance is bothering you so much,” you sneered, plopping down on the bench, pouring yourself some pumpkin juice.

The arrival of owls stopped Parkinson from cursing you out. You looked up to see a snowy owl make its way towards the Gryffindor table, dropping a letter into the hands of Harry Potter. Upon reading who had sent him a letter, Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly glanced your way before quickly looking away, huddling together to prevent anyone from reading whatever the letter entailed. You sighed looking down solemnly, knowing whose letter would elicit such a reaction from the trio. In this moment you had never hated the snake emblem across the area over your heart more.

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night. Not even the fact that Slytherin would finally have a chance to win the Quidditch House Cup, due to the banning of Gryffindor’s seeker and beaters, had cheered you up.

Both of those nights you had cried yourself to sleep, beating yourself up for ever expecting, for hoping, that this time away from your father had him changing his opinion on you. You didn’t know why you still cared. You didn’t understand why you craved his love, why you hadn’t given up on having any kind of relationship with him. You didn’t know why you still cared - you shouldn’t. You hated yourself for caring; but a small part of you, the five-year old girl that cried, begging for a chance to go visit her father for a year, still existed. No matter how many times you repeatedly denied it to yourself, you seeked his approval, his love.

You had fallen asleep on both of those nights wondering what you could possibly do to be worthy of his love, wondering why you were never enough.

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Winter had come and gone in a jiffy. May brought sunshine, warmth and the blossoming of new life along with it. By now, the D.A. had been found and disbanded, the Inquisitorial squad was thriving off making every non-Slytherin’s life miserable - all because you, now, had a toad for a headmaster.

Your OWLs were coming up soon, pushing you to study more than you had ever before, distracting you from thinking about anything else.

“I don't understand why you talk to that blood traitor and mudblood.”

“Because they’re my friends, Draco,” you sighed, for what seemed like the millionth time, “And stop calling them that. It’s despicable.”

“You don’t need such friends. You have us,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, friends such as Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini? I think I’m good,” you replied, scoffing.

Draco pulled you around to face him by your upper arm.

“I’m just trying to look out for you. These times, they aren’t the best. You don’t need to risk putting yourself in danger by associating with such...” he trailed off.

“Such what?” you prompted him, encouraging him to say something he’d regret. He stayed silent, staring at you, trying to say what he couldn’t out loud through his eyes, but your irritation didn’t allow you to see past his words.

“And I don’t need you to look out for me. I don’t need anyone to look for me! I can do that very well on my own, thank you. You’re not my brother,” you exclaimed, wrenching your hand out of his grip.

A series of emotions; hurt, anger, sadness; flashed across his face - gone before you could make anything of it. Your face softened as you realized what you’d said.

“Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” you apologized immediately.

Draco moved out of the way just as you were about to lay our hand on his shoulder.

“No you’re right. I’m not your brother, Y/N,” spat Draco before softening his tone, “but I see you as my sister so I will continue to look out for you, no matter how you feel about it.”

He stormed away before you could get a second to respond, leaving you staring at the spot he’d previously occupied with a mixture of feelings.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

OWLs were finished. You couldn’t believe that you were finally done. Your plan was to set off towards the Black Lake right after your last exam, lie back in the grass with your eyes closed to soak up the warmth shining down on your face. You longed to hear the sound of overlapping water from the cool breeze lulling you into a state where for the first time since last year, you’d feel a sense of peace and quiet.

But it seemed the universe hated the idea of you relaxing, which is why you were currently in Umbridge’s - Umbitch as you liked to call her - with the rest of the Inquisitorial squad along with a few former D.A. members. You were all waiting on Professor Snape to make his way to office, upon Umbridge’s order request. In addition to the purrs of the many cat pictures hanging on the horrid pink walls, the office was filled with the sounds of D.A. members trying to pull away from the Inquisitorial Squad’s grips.

“You wanted to see me, Headmistress?” asked Professor Snape entering the room as he eyed the struggling students, unconcerned.

Umbridge stood up smiling widely, almost cynically, “Yes. I would like a bottle of Veritaserum. I wish to interrogate Mr. Potter here.”

“You used up the last of the Veritaserum I had on your previous interrogation with Potter. Surely you didn’t use it all?”

“I’m sure you can make some more,” Umbridge replied with an overly sweet smile that made you want to vomit from the sight of it.

“Unless you wish to poison him - I have the greatest sympathy if you do - I can’t help you, not until it’s ready after a month,” Professor Snape said as he looked towards Harry.

Harry’s face scrunched up, seeming to concentrate on communicating something to Snape but his attempt was futile.

“You’re on probation! You’re deliberately being unhelpful. Now get out of my office!” shrieked Umbridge.

Snape blankly looked at her unbothered before turning to head out of the door.

“He’s got Padfoot! He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden!”

You felt like you had just been drenched in ice cold water at Harry’s shouts.

‘He? Who is he? It had to be Voldemort. Who else could have Harry in such a terrified state? But no, it couldn’t be possible,’ you thought.

Ginny’s wince brought you out of your spiralizing thoughts. You loosened your tightening grip on her hand, too panic-stricken to mutter an apology. Your wide eyes drifted from Harry to Professor Snape.

“Padfoot?” exclaimed Umbridge, “What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? Snape, what do you know about this?”

Snape turned back around to face Harry. His face was unreadable. You just hoped he would get some help, that he understood what Harry was shouting about.

“I have no idea,” he drawled, “Potter is speaking nonsense.”

You watched him walk out the door. Your palms had started to shake and sweat, everything drowned out. The only thing you could concentrate on was Snape, hoping he would give away any sign that he understood, he was going to do something. For once it seemed the universe had your back because just before he shut the door, his eyes made contact with yours as he moved his head, his nod bare visible. Relief flowed through your nerves; help was on the way.

You tuned into the conversation when you heard Hermione’s shrieks, “No! Professor- that’s illegal.”

Umbridge paid no mind to Hermione, raising her wand at Harry. Your hands clenched around your wand, preparing to take any action if needed as Hermione tried to convince Umbridge to stop.

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Umbridge said, “Cruc-”

“NO!” your shout was drowned out by Hermione’s.

“Harry, we- we have to tell her,” she cried.

“It seems little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Go on, then,” said Umbridge, triumphantly.

You stared at Hermione questionably. What was she doing? She couldn’t tell that toad anything. The Ministry would surely get your father and then- you didn’t want to think what would happen if they got their hands on him.

“He was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said in between her cries.

You felt Ginny tense in your grip in surprise as you suppressed the urge to sigh out loud in relief. Your eyes drifted around the room trying to think of a way to get yourself out of this situation and to Professor Snape. You needed to find a way to leave and help. You think you heard Hermione tell Umbridge about some weapon Dumbledore left in the forbidden forest in between your racing thoughts. You found the perfect opportunity as Umbridge headed out the door with Hermione and Harry. As soon as their footsteps could no longer be heard, all hell broke loose.

Ron slammed his head back into Warrington’s nose. You let go of Ginny, moving to get Crabbe off of Neville Longbottom, as she moved to go help Luna.

“Stupefy!” you yelled, pointing your wand towards Crabbe. You rushed to Neville, crouching down next to him as he caught his breath, “You okay?”

Neville weakly nodded. Satisfied with his nod, you got up to go help the rest. You felt Draco look at you, betrayed that you were helping the others, right before Ginny got him with the Bat-Bogey Hex. You felt a curse fly by you, grazing your cheek as someone pushed you to the side. Blood trickled down your cheek, dripping down staining your robes.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing, Ginny!? She’s one of them!” yelled Ron.

“No she’s not. She-”

“What do you mean? You see that badge, right? You do remember when she was holding you hostage right now? How about all the time she spent trying to catch the D.A.?” he rambled.

Ginny rolled her eyes exasperated, “Oh stop being so dramatic and listen. She’s not one of them. She’s been helping us all along. Why do you think no one patrolled near the seventh-floor corridor on the days we had a D.A. meeting?”

Ron shifted his eyes from Ginny, whose cheek had long scratches much like yours, to you before returning back to his sister, “That’s a load of codswallop.”

“We don’t have the time for this; We need to get going,” you said, impatiently. You did not have the time to convince anyone on whose side you were on. Your father could be dead by now for all you knew, and you had no clue how quick the Order would be informed to make their way towards wherever he was captured.

Ron opened his mouth, preparing to spew out an argument, “I’m sorry. We-”

“Look. Voldemort has my father right now and Salazar knows what he’s doing to him. No matter what has happened, he is my father. And you are not as smart as I give you credit for if you for a second think, I am not coming with you lot.”

“She’s right. We should get going. We’re wasting time,” Neville spoke up.

Ron looked between Ginny, Neville and you before begrudgingly agreeing.

You all quickly made your way out of the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest. You bumped into Harry and Hermione on your way there.

“How’d you get away?” asked Harry, surprised.

“Couple of hexes. Neville threw a good Impediment Jinx. Though, Ginny was the best, she got Malfoy good with a Bat-Bogey Hex. Anyway, what’ve you done with Umbridge?” replied Ron.

“Carried away by a herd of centaurs.”

“They left you behind?” asked a shocked Ginny.

“No, they got chased off by Grawp.”

“Whose Grawp?” questioned Luna, intrigued.

“Hagrid’s little brother,” explained Hermione.

“Never mind that!” interrupted Ron, “What did you find out in the fire? Does You-Know-Who have Sirius or-?”

“Yes” said Harry, “I’m sure Sirius is still alive but I’m not sure how to get there to help him.”

Everyone fell silent, the situation looking hopeless.

“What’s she doing here?” Harry asked, his eyes finally landing on you.

“He’s my father, Harry. Did you really think I was going to let you go alone?” you said, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Why? It’s not like you’ve cared before,” he retaliated causing rage to consume you at his unfiltered and forward words.

‘How dare he say that? I haven’t cared!?’

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, ready to release your wrath on the boy looking at you accusingly before Luna chimed in, paying no attention to the tension in the air.

“Well, we’ll have to fly, won’t we?”

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General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins

Never enough taglist: @evilluciferisevil @slyther-inn @bloodyxheaven @gcdric @mycobrakai1972 @loony-loopy-lupinn @the-mighty-bookworm @mads-bri @tessaem @hannah220506 @hariosborn @kpopgirlbtssvt

Lmk if you wanted to be added to either taglist :)

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bebr-sobe · 3 years

Text

Something Tells Me He Knew All Along... (Benedict and Sophie Bridgerton)

-o-o-o-

‘Sit.’

…

‘Sit.’

…..

‘Sit!’

All the caller received in return was another head-cock riddled with confusion.

‘Owhh, come now Prince, you were doing it so lovely before.’ Sophie pleaded, seeing her whole afternoon’s work crumble before her very eyes. Bending slightly, she tapped her hands to her knees repeatedly and cheered, ‘Come on, sweet boy, siiit…’

The enchanting chestnut eyes of the pup lit up as he trotted over to his masters, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

‘No-no-not come! Sit! I did not mean-’

The corners of Benedict’s mouth began to twitch with the delicious temptation of a grin – but he hid it well; choosing instead to raise his hand to his mouth with faux understanding.

It certainly did little for Sophie’s ego that her husband had been the one to successfully teach Prince to “come” in the first place. Obnoxiously quickly, too.

Petting his dark fur in defeat, she upheld. ‘He did do it before. I swear it.’

‘I do not doubt you.’

And truly, Benedict was being sincere with his comments - despite his clear amusement at the situation. For Prince had to have done it. There was no other reason Sophie would have disturbed him in the middle of the day, when she knew full well that he was working, to show off her latest accomplishment.

Gazing down at the slump in her shoulders, he knew that her pressured posture stemmed from the fact that, naturally, at the behest of one’s wife, he had dropped everything for the occasion.

Not that he minded, of course…

The time of day nor the very circumstance needn’t have mattered for him to do so. There were so few things for Sophie to do in the countryside that Benedict supported anything his wife showed even the slightest grain of enthusiasm towards.

Be it the most minute of matters at the most inopportune moment - he was always willing to set aside any task in favour of encouraging her interests.

They kept to themselves for the most part and Sophie was forbidden from so much as laying a finger on a cleaning utensil (that feat was a constant effort from both him and Mrs Crabtree). She had also managed to devour the cottage’s entire book collection within a month or so and thus, he was mindful of how difficult it must be for her at times.

Ergo, it was the very reason he had gifted the pup to Sophie in the first place; a companion for the long days and nights he spent otherwise occupied in his makeshift studio.

Their lifestyle was not straightforward by any means. He doubted anyone else could do it - not even his siblings.

But it was theirs. And against all odds, it worked for the two of them. For they’d shaped and moulded it that way from the very beginning.

In the past, Benedict had always thought of the abode as a retreat - somewhere he could escape from the suffocation of London and the watchful gazes of the Mama’s there eyeing him for the marriage slaughter (his own included). But ever since he and his wife took up residence full-time, it was no longer a casual place of residence for him.

Suddenly it was home. And yet, he knew it was not the four walls that made it home.

Sophie’s presence was as warming as the noon sun and she soothed him by simply being there. Even when he could not see her, he knew he did not have far to go to remedy the fact.

He knew that he could easily catch her nose deep re-reading a book, sat upon the windowsill of the study in a most unladylike manner – and all the more attractive for it.

He knew that if the lines in Mrs Crabtree’s brow seemed deeper on occasion, it was because Sophie had pestered her to, one way or another, contribute to the household duties and thus, had grinded the housekeeper’s patience down to its very core.

He knew that if Sophie was fussing over Mr Crabtree, it was because Prince’s blatant enamour with the man and his tantalizingly diggable flowerbeds had crossed over once again. (After the act, the pup naturally felt it made them great friends indeed. Not surprisingly, Mr Crabtree did not return his affections.)

He knew that if she shuffled into his studio at all hours of the night, a blanket wrapped around her so that she may lie on one of the couches simply to be close to him whilst he worked, that she was feeling lonely - an action that always stung Benedict.

In response, he always made sure that the next day was paint-free and reserved for quality Sophie time.

Yes, he knew their routine quite well.

And he would not change a single thing.

‘Oh please, Princey, sit!’

And just like that, the dog’s backside parked itself down onto the grass and Benedict swore he’d never seen his wife so happy.

He daresay not even on their wedding day…

‘Ah! See! He’s doing it! I told you he would!’ She hollered, leaping to her feet and into his arms.

‘A triumph.’ He conceded. ‘Truly a triumph.’

And it was made all the more triumphant when her lips hit his in utter joy. A deep and rewarding kiss that made his toes curl in his boots.

He must remember to slide Prince a sliver of his pork at dinner in gratitude…

-o-o-o-

It had taken only a few short days with the newlywed Bridgerton’s for Prince to decide that Benedict was his alpha and that he must shadow his every move.

Exactly the opposite of what Benedict had hoped for – he was supposed to accompany Sophie!

Not that it bothered her in the slightest. She and the pup spent enough quality time together for Sophie to know that he “cared” for her. But the way his bottom half would shake around wildly whenever Benedict so much as entered the same room as them, she swore that his tail would likely break the furniture it swatted against.

Without fail, the sight warmed her deeply every time and the couple had to admit that it was love – pure and simple.

And so, just like that, it soon became routine to them as the trio lived in acceptance of the dog’s allegiance.

That was, until a month or so later…

-o-o-o-

Laying down his brush, Benedict took his thumb and index finger and rubbed his eyes soothingly. He was truly spent and could not bear to look at the landscape before him any longer for fear he might fling it out the window.

He blinked a few times to try and restore his natural vision before turning his attention to his left.

Sophie was sat lazily in her nightgown and robe on one of the couches, embroidering his initials into the new set of handkerchiefs she had gifted him as Prince lay with his head in her lap.

Knowing full well it was not fair to keep either of them up any longer, Benedict lifted from his seat and declared that it was “bedtime, I rather think”.

Sophie ceased her work and smiled up to him gratefully, more than ready for bed.

With a quick whistle, he made for the door to conduct the nightly practice of taking Prince out to the gardens for one final “relief session” before the morning.

He was all but out into the hallway before he realised the usual patter of paws on the wood floor were not following him. Ducking his head back into the room, he noted Sophie staring down at the dog and the dog staring back up at Sophie.

Benedict creased his forehead before calling. ‘Come along then, Prince!’

And still, nothing.

‘Well?’ Sophie smiled down at Prince, a mixture of confusion and encouragement. ‘Off you go...’

But the pup stayed put.

After a most baffling back and forth, the lady of the house ended up having to be the one to take the pup out that night.

And the next night, as it played out...

… and the night after that.

-o-o-o-

‘You’ve stolen my dog from me.’ Benedict proclaimed one early morning as the trio lay in bed. Sophie was curled up against Benedict as Prince rested at the bottom of the blankets warming her feet.

‘Oh hush! I have done no such of the thing.’ She chuckled hoarsely.

‘Perhaps he is in want of a mate…’ He began, his voice unable to hide the humour behind it. ‘And seeing as you and Mrs Crabtree are his only viable options, he has picked a most treasured prize indeed?’

‘Benedict!’

God, he loved it when she used that tone with him. Especially... when it meant she called out his name in such a manner.

‘Well, if that is not the case…’ Benedict mused, unhooking his arm from around his wife and reaching down to pet Prince’s scruffy chest, much to the pup’s delight, he wondered. ‘Then whatever has gotten into you?’

-o-o-o-

‘Perhaps one of my tonics might cure the matt-‘

‘No!’ Benedict proclaimed, before catching himself. ‘Ahem- no, that won’t be necessary Mrs Crabtree. I’m sure it is only a passing illness.’

Expecting a scolding about how “effective” her concoctions were, he was surprised to find Mrs Crabtree lean into him – subtly requiring his ear. ‘Poor Mrs Bridgerton has not so much as touched a scrap for nigh on two days, Sir…’

Indeed, Sophie had laid holed up in their bedchamber barely able to glance at a soul with a mystery illness. All the while, Prince lay dutifully at her feet.

Benedict sighed miserably. ‘I am aware.’

‘Perhaps we might call for the Doctor, lest we be sure it isn’t something more serious…’

As he opened his mouth to protest, he caught the housekeeper’s eye and saw that she was inflexible. Mrs Crabtree had experience beyond his comprehension and so, with one look, he knew not to argue.

‘Mr Crabtree!’ He beckoned, never taking his eyes off of the man’s wife. As soon as the middle-aged groundskeeper appeared into the hallway, he decreed. ‘Fetch the doctor at once, will you?’

-o-o-o-

‘Plenty of bed rest, Mrs Bridgerton.’ Doctor Mayweather decreed, pulling the corners of his leather bag shut. ‘A lap of the grounds here and there for now, but no more.’

Benedict had immediately promised that whenever she wished, he would take her arm so that she may walk as long as she felt comfortable. Sophie nodded; her eyes swelling with tears.

‘Well, I wish you luck Madam. I expect these visits will be much more frequent from now on.’ Doctor Mayweather beamed, nodding his head towards Benedict, who was perched on the side of the bed, and then his wife, tucked under the covers, before taking his leave.

Once alone, Sophie whipped her head up to her husband.

Mercy - was there such a thing as being so happy one could simply… burst?

Benedict instantly returned her sentiments, clasping his wife’s hand and pressing a hard kiss to the back of it; words all but failing him momentarily.

They were to be blessed with a child… far sooner than either of them expected!

A black ball of fur, happy that the stranger had left the premises, jumped back up onto the bed and settled himself over Sophie’s blanket-covered midriff contently.

Immediately, his owners grinned.

With a twinkling eye, Benedict figured. ‘Something tells me he knew all along...’

-o-o-o-

I have absolutely no idea where the inspiration for this came from other than a sweet thought that just popped into my head and I immediately ran with it. It’s waffley and not good, so I greatly appreciate your time if you made it to the end.

Once again, the support shown on my previous two posts have meant more than I can say and are probably what made me want to do another upload. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Wishing you all good health and happiness!

(Photo credit)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict x sophie #Bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #sophie beckett #Sophie Bridgerton #An Offer From A Gentleman #benophie #benedict bridgerton x sophie beckett #bridgerton imagine

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Taking things Slow | Steve Rogers x Reader

Could she really love a second time?

I’ve had this idea for so long.

- Hints of Steve x Peggy, as well as bits of reader x (former lover).

Word Count : 2328

Taking Things Slow

The cold air’s embrace smoothened her as she stood outside on the balcony, gazing up at the star riddled sky, wondering if somewhere up there, there was a twinkle that looked down at her with fondness.

“Is it wrong?” She asked out loud, asking the stars for an answer.

“Should I be feeling this way?” She added, staring up at the glimmering orbs as they decorated the night,

“Would you forgive me?” She then uttered, smiling with melancholy as she let her heart speak, wanting to hear an answer back.

Attentive to the night, and much more the memories that came forward, she didn't realize that there was someone else that couldn’t sleep, having been intent to do just what she had, having his own questions in mind until he came across her.

She was quick to turn at the sound of her name, the breathy utter making her crash back down, because the man that now stared at her was the very one that made her feel all of the dreaded guilt,

“Steve,” She said back, staring wide eyed at him, wondering just how they managed to always cross paths, even while she’d made it her mission to evade him at all costs.

“(F/n),” Steve said softly, stepping closer to her after the single utter of her name, doing so by moving slowly, almost like he was stepping over thin, cracking ice that would give in at any minute.

All the while, she looked at him with a wavering glare, her lips pressed together firmly, effectively stopping the bottom one from quivering as much as it wanted to, because she was sick and tired of crying, detesting how easy it was for her to break down, even after so long.

‘ You always find me.

you’re always there...

so by now, you have to know.

You already know...don’t you?

Haven’t you had enough?’ She mused with the same irksome pain.

“So…” She started in a breathy tone, miserably trying to steady herself, “ What now?” she spoke quietly, sporting a crooked smile, forcibly drawing out a pretended, inconvincible expression of joy, because she didn't know what else to do.

she didn't know what to say, or even how to look at him anymore, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she didn't know how to feel about him.

- And that was the part that struck her worse.

Within the confinement of her chest, there was something there for him, something that felt like it was gradually invading more space until it was the only thing there.

She knew there was something there, yet, she wasn't sure just what to do with it.

There was an anchor chained to her heart, and the guilt she felt caused her to stay put, not ascending any higher than she should, especially with him.

Because she couldn't have fallen in love… not a second time.

She didn't want to believe it, because she'd had her first love already. she had her first story and though it wasn't finished, she didn't want to open another book.

She simply couldn't.

She refused to live happiness that she knew was supposed to be with someone else, no matter how lovely the promise seemed to be.

She felt like a traitor, a disgusting cheater that was turning away from promises she had made with someone else, even if they weren’t there any longer.

‘Sometimes,’ (f/n) started, swallowing down largely, ‘ Sometimes, I don’t think of you anymore,’ She spoke silently to her lost love, hoping he’d forgive her for doing such a thing, because it contradicted every promise of love she’d uttered to him.

‘And it hurts so much...’

“- (f/n),” Steve said again, not saying anything else but that alone and it aggravated her to no end.

It bothered her that he said nothing more than her name, because, the way he said it, the manner in which he spoke to her, furthermore, everything about the man made her heart jump.

He made her feel happy even when she was supposed to feel guilty as though, somehow, what she was doing was right.

“ - I understand just how you feel,” he said gently, “ I know more than anyone how hard it is, and to put it simply... I feel the same way about you.” He continued on, deciding to put an end to thier shared pain.

'NO...NO...NO...' Her head shook, and she pressed her teeth together harshly, grinding them against each other as she took a step back.

“ what do you know!” she questioned him, harsh pants resonating from her, angered by his words, because he couldn't possibly know what she felt. The words of sympathy didn’t easer her, and instead, frustrated her further.

‘You have no right,’ She thought icily, ‘Just who do you think you are?’ She went on.

“What do you know Steve?” she repeated, her voice cracking, the woman so close to tears she shook.

‘How could you ever understand?’ She asked herself.

As he looked at her, his face melted, but instead of growing down south it softened into a gentle melancholy and in his eyes, his beautiful crystallize drops, she could see something else, something that had decided to come out and tease her with their small glimmer, drawing her more towards him.

And the further she continued to gaze at them, she recognized the blue gloom.

Drawing her near was a surfacing of sadness, something that came with loss, and she recognized the sight, pairing it with a recollection of somber nights and true, heartfelt grief, because it was the same look she had the day ‘he’ had died.

It was the same look she wore when she was alone, staring at her haggard reflection, asking herself,

‘ why?’, furthermore wondering if there’d be a day when she could wear a true face of happiness that was meant to show her inner soul, and not please everybody else.

He quieted down, taking in a hearty breath before smiling, and though it was obviously forced, he continued with the expression.

His right hand then reached within his pant pocket to take hold of a small compass, holding it out to her to take, appreciating how tenderly she touched it because the single item meant a lot to him.

staring down at the old, worn equipment she was puzzled before she opened the thing, soon greeted by the picture of a woman in black and white,

‘Who...who is this?’ She asked herself, gazing down at her image with interest, not recognizing the face.

“ Her name was Peggy Carter,” he said softly, saying the name in a loving manner that was dusted over with sorrow, it being the same way she mentioned her own past love, and at that the (h/c) haired young woman brought her eyes back up to the man, looking at him as though she were meeting him for the first time.

"it's been years... too many years since then, and even then, I still think of her.” he admitted. “ the time I spent frozen, it felt like sleep for me. it felt like a nap, really.

That’s what it was for me...just a pause in time. " he explained, " but while I was gone, time didn’t stop for everyone else.” he said before sighing, “ she remained here, and she lived her life. she had her children... her husband,” he said quietly, the last word being said with notable struggle, because it still pained him.

And by then (f/n) felt her gradually heart sink, her earlier words biting her back with vengeance, because she’d barked at him about how much he couldn’t possibly come to understand her pain, all while he had been living through the ache already, all while in silence.

‘Why did you never say anything?’ She wondered to herself, wondering just how he pulled through, having collected himself so much better than she did.

” - she lived that life without me and it's not like I blame her. I could never blame her because I will always love her.

Regardless of everything, I will always think of her, and I will always remember her that way,” he added. "Besides that, I'm happy she didn't wait. I'm grateful she moved on, finding happiness that lasted her much longer than the bit of joy we felt together during our time." He voiced out.

“ she’s still around, but she doesn't remember me anymore, and every day that I go and see her now, I meet her once again, and it breaks my heart,” he confessed with a shuttered breath.

“ it makes my heart ache because I'm too far past the time where I can sit down and I can talk to the Peggy that I knew.

The Peggy that lays in that bed belongs to someone else, and I hope that even if she forgets about me each and every day, she remembers everything she lived with her husband, who I hope gave her everything she deserved.

I'm years too late and I know that nothing can reverse time. And, yeah, I know that I shouldn't keep thinking about it.

I know that I shouldn't keep holding on to her in the way that I do, but it's hard not to,” he admitted.

“ it was hard not to think of her every time my heart bounced, because I instantly thought of her as a natural response, and then I’d imagine her just as she was a long time ago, absolutely stunning.

Her perfect hair, her wonderful smile… her gorgeous eyes. Really, I could go on and on.” he said chuckling.

“ Everything about her was lovely.” He summed up,

“And her voice, I could hear it when I slept. I could hear it when it was quiet, and sometimes, I would catch hints of it when the wind blew, because, I always had her with me,” he said before taking a chance and stepping forward.

“I thought it was going to be that way forever," He confessed, “ And then I met you..."He told her, and as he said that, her heart stilled.

" I met you, and slowly everything that reminded me of her began to shift and I found myself thinking of someone else besides her.

Believe me, I felt awful... I felt like I shouldn't be doing that, like I should always be thinking of her instead. Like, I should always hold on to Peggy, and that by doing otherwise, I was stepping on her memory in the most insulting way I could.” He declared.

“ I tried to distance myself from you, but then, I was just stuck thinking of you even more.

It all happened before I could stop it.

By the time I realized what happened, I was too far gone to go back, and well, I don't know exactly how you feel about me, but I can tell you with certainty that what I feel for you is love.” he said to her, brazenly speaking, holding nothing back.

“(f/n), I'm in love with you and as much as it pains me, it also brightens me to a point that I actually feel happy, not just momentarily, but possibly permanently.

I've fallen in love with you and every day that goes by, I feel like the feeling in my heart, that pounding in my chest grows.

it grows the more I'm with you and when any of us tries to pull back, it burns. it feels like something's being pulled in there to the point that the entire damn muscle is getting torn through the act.” He explained, perfectly describing to her the same feeling that eventually led her back to him.

" I know you're afraid. I know you're confused and I know you don't know what to do anymore because quite frankly, I don't know either. " He talked, running his hand through his blonde hair, his frustration showing with the action.

“- But I am certain that when tomorrow comes I want to be able to see you. I don't want to go forward without telling you this.

I don't want to continue on living without admitting to you that I have fallen so deeply in love with you that I can't let you go.” He confessed.

“ I won’t... “He stubbornly added. “ Because I don't want to spend a future lamenting over something else. I don't want to ever live through that again,” Steve said with certainty.

"So I’m taking the leap.

- People don't always get these types of second chances and I feel lucky. I truly feel like down at the end of the line, it’s you and me. And I'll wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to accept it.” He said while looking at her with promise.

she looked at him, her eyes soaking with tears, soon falling down her face in two thin rivers,

‘ It’s love.’ She told herself, ‘It’s taken me so long to just admit it... but Steve...I...’

“I love you,” She breathed, “and It was almost at first sight,” She told him, letting the truth slip through. " I love you,” She said again,

“- But...I'm not ready," she said shakenly, " I’m not ready Steve," she added, shaking her head.

‘I’m still not ready to do this,’

"- It takes time," he said with understanding . " And I don't see myself with anybody else but you, so I’ll wait for as long as it takes,” He admitted, and at that he held out his hand to her, giving her the time she needed.

Looking down at the warm, inviting palm she moved, holding onto it with desperation after all of the initial hesitance.

“ We can take things slow,” He told her, pulling her in and holding her dearly, and while it took her a moment, she melted, soon finding comfort in his body, living through the embrace with what felt like the promise of happiness, as though the best was yet to come.

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blazedbakugou · 3 years

Text

a fake smile is still a smile

In which it’s the same old story, only this time it’s told from your perspective, heartbreaks and forced smiles included.

a/n: this is part three to my Bakugou mini series, it takes place after part one and before part two. I don’t know if there will be more parts after this so for now I’m going to say that this is the final part.

read part one & two

genre: angst with like one fluffy scene

warnings: more angst but I threw in some fluff this time

word count: 2.1k

pairing(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

figures - jessie reyez

The past week had been rough. You had been left a confused and emotional mess after Bakugou’s temper tantrum at the party. It was humiliating to have to go through that in front of all your friends, so you figured it would be best if you asked Mina to take you home. You hardly left your apartment during that week, only getting out of bed if you were expected to show up at work that day because the bills had to get paid somehow. It was an endless cycle of working 9-5 shifts, eating whatever take-out leftovers were left from the previous night, and laying in bed feeling absolutely miserable.

You hated that you felt this way, especially over something so stupid. Your friends did their best to show that they were worried about you, but their texts went unanswered and calls were sent straight to voicemail. The kind gestures were appreciated, truly they were. You just weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone and waste more energy pretending to be fine, the past few years of doing so had drained you more than you cared to admit.

Five years you had spent covering up your true feelings for the blonde pro-hero. Five years of holding your tongue and instead offering a stupid smile. Five miserable years of wearing a lousy mask that slowly chipped away at you from the inside until you were nothing more than an empty soul. Five years had passed since the day you fell in love with Bakugou and even then, you never forgot a single detail of how it happened.

- - -

The crisp autumn air left a dull sting on your face as you walked alongside your best friend, pink petals raining down and landing in clusters on the park’s grass. Fifteen minutes ago you would have welcomed the sensation gladly, but now that the sun was starting to set and its warmth had been replaced with a chilly breeze— you were starting to regret not bringing a sweater. You folded your arms across your chest and tucked your hands safely under your upper arms in an attempt to preserve whatever warmth you had left.

“Hey, dumbass. Did ya really forget to bring a sweater? Tch should’ve known you’d pull something this stupid.” Bakugou scoffed, glancing at you through his peripheral vision.

You frowned, “Didn’t know it was gonna get this cold… but I’ll be fine, besides we’re not too far from home so I can suck it up ‘til then.”

“You really think I’m going to let you run the risk of getting sick? Maybe the cold is already getting to you, usually, you’re not this slow.”

To outsiders, this would’ve come off as offensive and rightfully so. Except you were no outsider for you were able to recognize the hidden demonstration of compassion through the way he was already shrugging off his jacket. The blonde wordlessly handed it to you, though it was more of a gentle shove, and waited for you to put it on.

“I said I was fine,” you sighed but accepted the jacket nonetheless, “but what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You must be cold too, right?”

He looked at you for a moment with an indecipherable expression before replying, “you don’t have to worry about me, dumbass. I only gave it to you because I can’t have my training partner getting sick. I run hot anyway.”

“If you say so, Katsu. Thank you though, I appreciate it.” You smiled at him as you slipped your arms through the sleeves.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say.” Bakugou jabbed his elbow into your side, the corner of his mouth turned up into what could’ve possibly qualified as the world’s slightest smile.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, the rustling of leaves and your synced footsteps created the perfect harmony. The end of your first year at UA was quickly approaching for both of you, also marking an entire year of knowing each other. It was funny to think about how only a year after passing the entrance exams, you’d somehow managed to end up wearing his jacket which he had willingly given up. The same jacket which enveloped you in the most comforting scent in existence, it mostly smelled like Bakugou with a slight hint of something else that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. The question lingered on your mind as you thought hard about what it could be.

“Caramel apples!” you gasped.

“What’re ya talking about, dumbass?”

A small wave of embarrassment washed over you at the realization that he’d heard you, “nothing…”

The blonde merely huffed in response, shoving his hands into his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the way the scene painted before you looked so pretty; the orange and pink hues in the sky, the golden rays of sunshine casting down on him, the cherry blossom petals fluttering around. It was a breathtaking moment truly, so without a second thought, you took out your phone to try and capture it. As observant as your best friend was, he noticed the lack of footfalls and stopped to turn around as well.

“Hey! Why’d you stop-” his sentence was cut short by the sound of the camera going off.

You simply showed him the picture, letting him see the art for himself. It had captured everything you hoped it would, your smiling face in the bottom left corner with the added bonus of his confused expression not too far in the distance. You took his scoff as a sign that he was done looking at the picture and shut off your phone before slipping it back into your pocket.

“What was that for?”

“I just thought you looked pretty.” You replied.

It was the honest truth. You were aware that your best friend was attractive, but it wasn’t until that moment had you realized just how beautiful he was in your eyes. The sun continued to cast down on him as if it was the universe’s way of letting you know that it agreed with you. It was amazing what wonders the right lighting could do in any given situation, in your case it had helped you realize that you were in love with the one and only, Katsuki Bakugou.

“Sh-shut up! You’re not supposed to call me that.” He grumbled.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, “whatever you say, Katsu.”

The rest of the walk home was a quiet one, though not awkward by any means. You took it as an opportunity to gather your thoughts on this big revelation you had just stumbled upon. Everyone always complained about how love was hard and scary which you found silly because, in your opinion, there was nothing difficult or terrifying about it. Love, in your opinion, was a beautiful thing, and who better to experience it with than with your own best friend?

“We’re here.” Bakugou’s gruff voice shook you from your thoughts and caused you to blink in surprise as you took in the view of your front door.

Now that he had walked you back home, you knew it was time to return his jacket. So with a reluctant sigh, you shrugged it off and began to hand it back to him until a better idea had crossed your mind. By some miracle, you had been gifted enough courage to hang the jacket over his shoulders, keeping your arms around his neck for perhaps a moment too long. The gap between you was so small that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. The blonde looked confused to be in such a compromising position, his carmine eyes shifting between glancing at your lips then back up to your eyes.

It would be so easy to just lean in and press your lips against his, especially because rare would be the chance you’d get to have him this close again. Part of you was screaming to just go for it and take the leap, but another part of you was aware that by taking that leap you would then risk ruining what you felt to be an amazing friendship. The responsible side of you won but before you could step back on your own, Bakugou had ripped your hands off him and taken two steps back.

“See ya at school tomorrow.”

You disguised the pain you felt in your chest with a small chuckle, “yeah, see you then…”

And like promised, you saw each other at school the very next day. Training went on as usual, though admittedly you pushed yourself harder than you normally did. You still joked around with your friends at lunch, though you opted for sitting across from Bakugou instead of your usual spot beside him. He walked you home from school just like he always did, though this time around you refused his offer to study at his house. Deep down you knew that he had taken note of the sudden changes in your behavior, so it disappointed you to see that he didn’t bother asking you about it.

The next few weeks were merely repeats of the same routine until eventually, you learned to move past your grievances. It got easier to breathe around him without feeling like you were suffocating, easier to distract yourself whenever you found yourself thinking about him for too long, easier to pretend everything was fine. Of course, the pain never went away. It dulled until it was nothing more than a subtle ache in the depths of your heart, an ache you had grown to live with. After that fateful day, you walked around with a smile only half as bright as it once was.

- - -

Suddenly the picture frame in your hand felt too heavy to hold as if all the bottled-up emotions from throughout the years had been condensed into the ink on the page. You let it fall onto the bed with a small thud, letting yourself fall back into the pillows behind you. The image of the ceiling above your bed was now ingrained into your head, you’d spend a lot of time staring at it during the week.

A bitter chuckle made its way past your lips, the hoarseness in your voice causing you to wince. When was the last time you had uttered a word? You had no idea. What you did know was that you were quite possibly driving yourself mad by repeating the same vicious cycle of self-pity, helplessness, and isolation. Your period of sadness had ended, now transitioning into one of anger and feelings of betrayal.

Oh, how you wished you could take even an ounce of the pain you were feeling and pass it on to Bakugou. You could only imagine how good it would make you feel to see him miserable. However, as upset as you were with the blonde for putting you through such agonizing misery, you’d never wish such things upon him. You were not that kind of person and he was certainly the last person you’d mistreat. Though that didn’t stop you from coming up with a hundred and one petty thoughts.

Bakugou was always calling you a dumbass but maybe he was the stupid one all along. Couldn’t he see how deeply in love with him you were? Wasn’t it painfully obvious to him just how well you’d treat him? Did he not realize how fortunate he was to have you stick by his side after all these years despite your broken heart? Perhaps he’d only realize how good he truly had it with you until you finally decided to up and leave. Maybe once you were out of his life for good then would he understand just how badly he’d fucked up.

You should’ve known that you were only leading yourself on, convinced that if you tried hard enough then you could get him to fall in love with you. Your naïveté was almost humorous. Oh, how foolish you were for believing that there was any chance at all that Bakugou felt the same way. Love was nothing but a losing game. You didn’t understand it back when you were a kid, but now the message had never been clearer.

Deciding to take a step towards a more positive mindset, you got out of bed and slipped on the first pair of shoes you spotted. It was with a heavy sigh that you picked up the picture frame once again to return it to its rightful place above the chimney. The weather outside seemed cheery enough to lift your spirits, so you opted to go for a walk at the nearby park. Making your way to the front door, you grabbed the handle and tugged on it only to find out that standing on the other side of it was the last person you wanted to see.

Your stupid idiot of a best friend.

masterlist // taglist open // requests open

@combat-wombatus @sunflowersuki

#bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugou imagine #bakugo fluff #bakugo angst #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo angst #my writings

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt20

HELLO and thank you for reading!!! i appreciate you very very much :D

pt1

pt19

pt21

It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled.

(Y/N) was having a miserable time. The night that was supposed to be the biggest celebration in over a century was now soiled. She had spent so hard working on it and making sure that everything was absolutely perfect, and now she wasn’t even enjoying herself.

She sat at the large rectangular table before the crowd. Zuko was to her left, Katara to her right. On Zuko’s other side sat Mai. The two were engaged in casual conversation that (Y/N) was trying her best to drown out. It was hard to maintain a pleasant expression on her face when her heart had been broken just hours ago, but she was managing. The purpose of this night was more than a celebration after all, it was a political step forward in the right direction and (Y/N) wouldn’t let her sour mood get in the way of that.

Still, Katara’s constant worried looks weren’t helping her mood either. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Katara whispered. (Y/N) nodded and gave her a tight smile.

“Just great,” She said, picking at her food with her chopsticks. She had lost all appetite for the night. She couldn’t wait until she could go to her room and break down in tears, or set something on fire, or both. But she had a long night ahead of her.

After everyone ate, she made her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with everyone she passed. It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled.

The moon was high by the time the crowd dispersed, leaving only (Y/N), her friends, Zuko, and Mai. Zuko walked up to (Y/N) with Mai in tow. She put on her best smile, but it faltered as she saw their hands intertwined. “I’m going to go to Mai’s house for a little while.”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Don’t forget you have a reparations meeting in the morning.” Zuko smiled.

“I know, I know.” He said goodbye to his friends and the couple walked out of the palace gates.

(Y/N) turned around to find her friends solemnly staring at her. “I can show you guys to your rooms,” She said softly, before leading them into the palace. Their rooms were on the same hall as hers, and she let them know this and said that if they needed anything, to just knock on her door.

Sokka paused with his hand on the doorknob to his room. His blue eyes met (Y/N’s) and he gave her a small smile. “You did a really great job today, (Y/N).” He hugged her tightly and (Y/N) tried her hardest to suppress the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“Thanks, Sokka,” she said as they parted. Hurriedly, so no one would see her cry, she walked to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Wringing her hands together, she shook them out and lifted her head up to the ceiling, furiously blinking them so the tears wouldn’t fall out. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry over Zuko anymore and while she felt her resolve slowly breaking, she was trying to let this moment pass.

(Y/N) changed out of her clothes and into a silk pajama set. She brushed out her hair and scrubbed her nails clean to distract herself. She almost felt fine again until she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in,” She called, and Katara walked in quietly. The Water Tribe girl didn’t even have to say anything, but (Y/N) saw the sympathy in her eyes. She turned her head away quickly so Katara wouldn’t see the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Katara sighed, sitting next to her friend. She wrapped her arms around (Y/N) and held her close.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” (Y/N) said, wiping furiously at her eyes. “It’s not like he owes me anything. I should’ve known that just because we were betrothed as kids doesn’t mean anything now.” She sniffled loudly. “I shouldn’t be crying. I should be happy because we’re friends again.”

“Whatever you’re feeling is how you should be feeling,” Katara said. “You’re crying because you’re hurt, (Y/N), and that’s okay. Don’t try to minimize your emotions.”

“I just feel so stupid and ridiculous, Katara. And it makes me mad that I’m crying over him again.”

“(Y/N), you have the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve met. You might make yourself seem rough on the outside, but on the inside you’re just as soft as unfried dough. You care a lot about Zuko, but that doesn’t make you stupid or ridiculous. The fact you held it together for as long as you did just shows how strong you are. And, for the record, we were all surprised when they came out together.”

“Really?” Katara nodded.

“Yeah! Anyone with a brain can see how good you guys are together. If Zuko doesn’t see that, it’s his loss.” (Y/N) smiled softly at her friend. Her words didn’t completely convince her, but they did make her feel a lot better about the situation. She wrapped her arms around Katara’s middle and hugged her.

“Thank you, Katara. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Katara squeezed her tightly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” They pulled away from the hug, both wearing a smile on their faces. “Want me to stay with you tonight?”

“Yes, please,” (Y/N) sighed. “I’m going to need someone to listen to me analyze every interaction between Zuko and I.” Katara laughed, which in turn made (Y/N) laugh too.

---

(Y/N) woke up late the next morning. The night’s events had completely exhausted her, so she figured she deserved a day to sleep in. She didn’t wake up until the sun was high in the sky, and didn’t leave her room until much later than that. She searched all over the palace for her friends and eventually found them all sitting under the big tree beside the turtle duck pond.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Toph said. The small girl lay in the grass, her eyes closed as she pointed her face toward the sun.

“Really, it’s good afternoon,” Aang grinned. (Y/N) chuckled.

“A long day of planning wiped me out.”

“You did an amazing job, (Y/N),” Zuko said. He was propped up against the big tree. His eyes looked up at her as if he was expecting her to sit beside him, but instead she chose to sit next to Katara and Sokka.

“Everything alright?” Sokka asked. “Your eyes are kind of puffy.” Katara elbowed him in the ribs. “What? What’d I say?”

“I’m just tired, Sokka.” To emphasize this, she let out a yawn.

“I can ask the servants to get you tea,” Zuko said. “Maybe some green tea to help you wake up?”

“That won’t be necessary,” (Y/N) said. Zuko was taken aback at how she refused to look at him when she spoke.

An awkward silence fell over the group, but it was quickly broken by Katara. “I can’t believe you both grew up here. It’s so lavish!”

“Sometimes I forget about it too,” (Y/N) admitted. “Things were a lot different the last time I was here. You won’t believe how many portraits of Ozai we had to take down. The man only got more vain as the years went on.”

The group giggled before diving into a conversation about their upcoming plans for the future of the world. Zuko and (Y/N) planned on removing the Fire Nation colonies from the Earth Kingdom, to keep the nations separate like they were before. It was named the Harmony Restoration Movement and had been something that Zuko and other government officials had the task of coming up with.

Zuko and (Y/N) also had the tough job of handling those in the government who remained loyal to Ozai. Having a government that sided with hate and imperialism would not do well with the plans they had for the future.

Their talks ended as the sun began to set, which signaled the departure of their friends. They all walked together to Appa and said their goodbyes. (Y/N) hugged each of her friends tightly and leapt onto Appa and hugged Momo before they departed. She and Zuko watched sadly as their friends flew away.

“I really like all of them,” Zuko said. “But it’s also nice when it’s just you and me.” (Y/N) gave a grunt in response and walked back into the palace.

“I’ll be taking dinner in my room tonight, please,” She told one of the servants.

---

Few months had passed since Zuko’s coronation and much had changed. The Harmony Restoration Movement was an effort to remove the Fire Nation colonials from the Earth Kingdom that was heavily supported by the Earth King and his men, but not so much from Fire Nation officials. (Y/N) and Zuko had to take their time figuring out which of Zuko’s cabinet members were still loyalists to Ozai’s cause and relieve them of their duties. It resulted in many threats of harmful action, but after surviving war, (Y/N) found that there was little she feared now.

After a particularly long meeting between her and Zuko, (Y/N) walked down the lantern-lit halls of the palace. Ever since he had started dating Mai again, (Y/N) had chosen to distance herself from him. While she was happy that he was happy, she found it far too painful to watch the two be together, and she did not want to intrude on their relationship by any means. So, she decided to take a break from Zuko. Their friendship had suffered because of it, but (Y/N) figured that it was best for right now. She still remained his closest confidant and his trusted advisor. It hurt to be so close to Zuko yet feel so far away, but she was no stranger to pain.

She rounded the corner to the hallway that led to her room and hummed an old Fire Nation lullaby as she approached her door. Entering her room, she readied herself for bed and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the soft, fluffy pillows.

When (Y/N) awoke, it was not to the rising sun shining through her windows, but rather the sound of glass breaking. Confusedly, she blinked the sleep from her eyes and peered around the room. It was hard for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Zuko?” She called out.

She leaned over in her bed to light the lantern on the nightstand and immediately felt a strong hand twist itself into her hair. She shouted in pain, contorting herself to kick at whoever was grabbing her. Her feet found purchase on the person’s chest and kicked them back into the wall. (Y/N) freed herself and quickly lit all of the lanterns in her room with firebending.

There, on the other side of her bed, stood a masked assailant wearing all black. In each of their hands was a sharp dagger that glinted in the firelight. (Y/N’s) eyes widened in fear. “Who are you?” She demanded.

“I was sent here to punish you for your crimes against the Fire Nation,” The assassin said. (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

“Crimes? What crimes?” One of the daggers was flung at her head. She had just enough time to dodge it before it sank into the wall beside her. She felt the anger rise in her. “Guards!” She shouted before blasting fireballs at the person. They dodged them with ease, flipping out of the way of her attacks.

The assassin darted to the window to escape, but (Y/N) was just as quick. She ran across the room and launched herself at them, tackling them to the ground. The two rolled around the floor, kicking and punching at each other. (Y/N) hissed as her arm was cut by the sharp dagger. Eventually, the assassin over powered her and sat on top of her. (Y/N) used every bit of strength she had in her to hold onto their arms and prevent the dagger from piercing through her chest. Just as she was about to lose her grip, a blast of fire knocked the assailant off of her.

(Y/N) turned to see Zuko standing in the door. A few seconds later, guards flooded in after him and apprehended the person who had tried to assassinate her. Zuko ran to her side as she stood. “Are you okay?” He asked urgently. She shook her head and removed her hand from the cut on her arm. It bled heavily, droplets of blood dotting the hardwood floors of her bedroom.

Zuko took off his shirt and ripped it down the middle to use as a makeshift bandage. He tied it tightly around her wound and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll take you the the physician.” He turned to the guards. “Throw them into prison. I don’t want them to ever see the light of day again.”

---

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