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eilidh-eternal · 3 months

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You make a promise

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | CW mentions of SA, stalking, general PTSD warning for reader and Johnny |

It happened again.

You knew it would. Know that part of being a woman in this world means living in near constant hyper-vigilance; with an acute awareness of your surroundings.

Should have known better. Should have been more aware. Should have kicked and screamed. Should have fought back.

It’s disappointment that curls around your mind like a serpent and sinks its fangs in deep, floods you with venomous, paralyzing thoughts.

Paralyzed. That’s a good word for it. Pinned against that bookshelf and presently burrowed beneath the blankets in the dark, body curled in on itself with trembling hands tucked tight to your chest. Small. Meek. Trapped in a body that betrays everything you taught it to do. Disappointed that the months of training you endured in the aftermath proved useless when tested outside of a controlled environment and theoretical scenarios.

It happened again–and you let it.

“Bubby?” Isobel is strapped in her car seat, kicking impatient little feet while Johnny works to unfasten the belt across her lap.

“Yes leannan?”

“Why’re the polis here?”

His hands go still, hovering above the buckle, and he turns his head over his shoulder just enough to glimpse the two lids standing on your front stoop. The air in his lungs rushes out of him, chin falling to his breastbone as the panic winding tight in his chest slowly unfurls.

This is home. Isobel is safe. Everyone is safe. This isn’t that day, he reminds himself, but seeing them on your doorstep strikes flint against steeled nerves. The carefully compartmentalized part of his brain that he reserves for work wrestles itself free from its confines and floods his body with adrenaline. Makes the hair on his nape stand on end and the muscles in his jaw tighten until it aches from the tension.

With Isobel extracted from the car, perched on his hip and her book bag slung over the opposite shoulder, he turns to nudge the car door closed, just in time to see your door crack open. Watches the two men present their badges and a folded bundle of paperwork. Gnashes his teeth when he sees, even from the street, wide and fearful eyes that scan everything behind them. Eyes that note his presence and dart away to catalog the next detail. Trodden snow and parked cars. The woman across the street, walking her dog. Surveying your front yard with the same scrutiny he does an engagement zone.

Isobel squirming in his arms tears his focus away from you, forces him to register the burning sensation at the tip of his nose, the tops of his ears, cold winter air surely biting into her skin just as mercilessly as it does his own.

“I dunno. Let’s get ye inside, aye? Dinnae want to find any missing fingers or toes tonight.”

To anyone else it would look like he’s taking his time with the ice, treading carefully with the little girl in his arms so as not to send them both crashing down into the snow. Anyone else would see lids next door and mind their own damn business.

Johnny’s never been particularly good at that.

Their presence alone is enough to raise his hackles, to pull the pin from his nerves and toy with letting the hammer fall. Just enough to see if they’re as trained up as the SNP says they are. But all that’s likely to do is scare you more, and he can’t have that. He just found you, just started to get to know you. He’ll be damned if he lets another rash decision chase a pretty thing like you away.

The thought of it twists and knots in his stomach, plucks at the out-of-tune strings wound through his heart in a weeping facsimile of something he doesn’t dare put a name to. Can’t name because it gives it too much power. Makes it too real.

It’s slow going, pretending to fumble with the keys in the cold. Feigning indifference as he grapples with “—in custody, for now—” and “—press charges?”

The snow and ice outside is a brilliant, blinding white. Inside, all Johnny can see is red.

Charges? What on earth happened that she needs to press charges for?

“Bubby, too tight,” Isobel grouses, and he loosens his arm around her with a sigh, lowering her to the ground to help with her jacket and boots.

“‘M sorry, Bell. Didnae mean to squeeze ye so tight.” Curls bounce around her face as she teeters on one foot, hands on his shoulders to keep her balance.

“It’s okay.” She shifts to her other foot, pulling free of the fleece-lined boots. “Ye’re makin’ a twisty face again,” she observes, and her brows mirror the pinch of his own.

Too damn observant.

“Ah know,” he admits, and his chest heaves with another sigh, reaching up to smooth the crinkles in her forehead with his thumb. “Dinna worry about me and muh twisty face. How ‘bout some hot cocoa? We’ll warm up and then see about supper, hm?” Her face splits into a toothy grin and he softens at the sight. Lets her latch onto his hand and drag him into the kitchen.

“May we come in?”

No.

“Of course.” You take a step back, pulling the door open just wide enough to let the two officers through. Melting snow pools on polished hardwood under their boots, and you quickly herd them towards the carpeted sitting room before the water can warp your floors. You sit opposite of where they do on your sofa, big fluffy robe pulled tight over flannel pants and a pullover.

“He’ll be released on Thursday morning, unless ye’d like to go ahead with the charges for—”

“—No.” Your fingers curl into your palms. “Just the restraining order. I—” Can’t see his face again. Don’t want to be in the same room with him again. “—just the restraining order. Please.”

The shorter of the two nods and produces a pen from his coat, scribbling something in the margins of the papers he holds before sliding them across the coffee table towards you.

“Tha’s the station an’ phone number,” he says, tapping on the notes he made. “We’ll ring ye when he’s released. An’ we’ll ‘ave the protective order in place by tomorrow. He shouldnae be botherin’ ye anymore.”

All you can manage is a nod and a whispered, “Thank you.” They’re kind enough. Most people are.

Until they’re not.

——

It’s dark outside when you hear a knock at your front door, and your hand immediately reaches for your phone, breath forced out of your lungs by the panic squeezing them inside your chest.

There’s a muffled voice. A giggle, followed by shushing and shuffling feet. “Dinnae want to spoil the surprise,” you hear in a familiar lilt.

Johnny?

You draw a relieved breath and wince when your nails press into the marks on your palms, angry crescent moons, and pull yourself up off the couch to peer through the edge of the curtains.

Johnny and Isobel stand, the former holding the latter, on your stoop, small pan of… something, in Isobels gloveless hands.

Bewildered as you are, you shed the blanket from your shoulders, smoothing a hand over your rumpled jumper, and hurry to the door, fretful over Isobels fingers in the frigid air.

The door cracks open, and with it, so do their smiles.

“Hi, bonnie—”

“—Surprise!” they say at the same time.

You stand dumbfounded in your doorway, hand braced on the wooden frame, and Isobel holds out what might be something of a cake beneath a mountain of whipped cream towards you.

“It’s a trifle,” she proudly announces. You turn a questioning eye to Johnny.

“Didnae have the fixin’s for a proper cake,” he supplies. “Figured it would be a sort of… olive branch.”

Olive branch? Why would he need—?

Clipped memories from several days ago replay in your head. Coming home. Sitting in the car. Johnny calling after you. Practically running away and slamming the door on him. Shutting him out.

And here he stands, thinking he’s done something worth apologizing over.

“You don’t need- you didn’t… oh, come in out of the cold, will you? No sense in freezing out there.” You push the door open wider, beckoning them in.

“Thought ye’d never ask,” he teases with a wink and shuffles inside, following you to the kitchen with Isobel in tow behind him.

“Here, let’s put that on the table.” Isobel gladly relinquishes the pan and you’re relieved when you feel its warmth seeping into your fingers, a little less worried about both of their lack of proper winter attire. “I’ve never served trifle… would bowls be best?”

“Aye, ye’ll probably need spoons too. More of a pudding than a cake,” he says as he settles himself in a chair, Isobel quick to clamber up onto his lap.

You’re surprised by your own lack of nerves. The dishes don’t clatter together when you pull them from the cabinet as they have in recent days, and you don’t feel so uneasy with your back to them. Don’t feel the need to look over your shoulder when Isobel thrums her little fingers on the wooden table, or the deep rumble of Johnny’s voice, speaking to her in hushed tones.

You’re safe here. Safe with them.

Johnny’s right about the dessert too. It’s warm, freshly made, and it’s made for a bit of a runny affair, melted whipped cream seeping into custard and some sort of cake on the bottom.

“It’s good. Thank you for, um… Thank you for sharing.” You spoon another bite into your mouth before you can shove your foot in it. Isobel seems to be in another plane of existence entirely, too absorbed with the confection smeared at the corners of her mouth. The same can’t be said about Johnny. He’s focused wholly on you, dessert in front of him a secondary matter. Tertiary, even, with Isobel perched on his knee and his arm looped around her midsection.

The warmth in his eyes has shifted, burns brighter, in a seeking sort of way. Searching for tinder to catch on. More air to billow and blaze. “Can I ask ye somethin’?”

You settle your silverware in your bowl and fold your hands in your lap, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth when your nails slice into your palms again. “Sure.”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable so much as it is heavy, laden with the weight of his unspoken question as he continues his assessment of you. For a moment, you wonder if maybe it’s you who owes him an apology.

“Havnae seen ye for a few days. Yer car’s nae moved and yer curtain’s been closed. And last week, when ye–” He pauses abruptly, mulling over his next words carefully. “Ye looked like a green recruit, fresh off the field.”

Terrified.

Shell shocked.

“That have anythin’ to do with the fellows who dropped by today?”

Your eyes flick between his, the bowl on the table in front of you, and Isobel–still lost in her own little microcosm. Untainted by the dark things lurking just beyond her understanding. You knew he’d seen them. Knew he might ask about them at some point. What you hadn’t expected was a trojan horse in the form of a trifle. Thought you would have more time to think of something to explain the situation away.

This isn’t something he should be burdened with. Not over you. Not when he has Isobel to look out for.

When you finally meet his eyes again they’re no less dim. Still searching for words buried beneath ash on your tongue.

“I… Yes. It did.” You swallow, shove down the knot working it’s way up from your chest. “I was followed, out at the shops,” you lie. “The man, he wouldn’t leave me alone, so… the shopkeeper called for the polis. He left me alone after that, but they still took a statement.” You glance towards Isobel again. To give yourself reprieve from the intensity of his gaze and to ensure she’s not listening too closely to the conversation being had. “Guess it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. They came by today to… to let me know he’s in custody. Wanted to know if I wanted to press charges.”

He’s quiet, unearthly still on the wooden chair, staring hard at the expression you’re doing your best to keep calm.

“This happen before?” he questions, hand curling into a fist on the table.

“No,” you lie–again.

He nods, a near imperceptible tilt of his chin. “Are ye filing?”

You nod in return. No need to go into the specifics.

His shoulders relax a fraction when he looses a long breath. “No wonder ye wouldnae come near me that day,” he muses aloud. “‘M sure my givin’ ye a fright in yer car didnae help much, either.”

“It’s not your fault,” you interject.

“Maybe so, but…” His eyes drift with his words, searching the patterns of the wood grain for something. “Can I ask ye another question?” When he looks up at you again, you nod. “Promise ye’ll tell me, if anythin’ like that happens again? Dinna like the thought of ye dealin’ with it on yer own, lass.”

“Tell ye what?” Isobel queries, bowl of trifle empty in front of her, but his gaze remains firmly on you, and you don’t think he’s willing to take no for an answer.

“Okay. I promise.”

Next>>>

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months

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Gold Rush

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

Genre: Angst (happy ending!), fluff, hurt and comfort (a little bit of everything honestly)

Warnings: jealous!james, stupid!james, swearing, screaming, arguments, crying, injuries, punching, blood, protective!James, protective!marauders, platonic!best friends!marauders, confessions, dangerous activities (reader puts herself in danger), mentions of dying

You look towards the ground and your ankle bends a little in your winter boots as you try to control your movements. The cherry liquor you had drank earlier lingers in your mouth and in your drunken haze, the tower you're currently balancing on feels secure as you move forwards and the onlookers below continue to cheer.

"Please don't stay out too late," Remus warned you.

You blush, shaking some snow from your hair as you outstretch your arms for better balance, biting your lip. You look up at the sky, the stars prominent this evening.

"And don't drink too much," James reminded you with small smile.

"We'll see you there," Sirius promised.

What the hell did they know? You pout, now staring down at the snow on the ground. They hadn't even shown up!

You hear someone call your name and you look down to see Arthur Brown, a Ravenclaw boy you'd been talking with at a party. He's handsome with a charming smile and as you wave to him, you almost fall over.

Arthur just chuckles and encourages you to continue whatever nonsense and liquid courage inspired you to walk on the castle roof in the snow this late at night.

"Y/n?" you hear Remus's strained shout and when you turn your head, you're surprised to see Remus, James, and Sirius rushing over. They aren't dressed for the cold weather and they look extremely shaken and confused. "Come down from there," Remus shouts. You wonder how they'd known.

Sirius looks pale and James is frantically looking around to find some way to help you down safely. He looks more distraught than the others and Sirius has to calm him.

Your eyebrows knit together. You're afraid James might make a scene. Only, why would he? You know he'd let Remus, Sirius, or Peter do this in a heart beat, and he'd find it funny.

Bloody hell, James would probably do it himself so why does he look so worried when it's you?

"Bugger off, she's fine," Arthur interrupts as you take another step. Your boots slip on the snow again but you laugh as you move your arms out further to catch yourself. "See, she's fine. So, stop being her little guard dogs for one second and let her live a little," he says with unnecessary venom.

"What did you just say?" Sirius barks, grabbing Arthur's collar. He looks furious now.

"Y/n, come down, please, honey," Remus calls, occasionally telling Sirius to drop it and to concentrate on you.

You frown as Arthur's teasing riles up your friends and the crowd underneath you. Wind swirls around you and you gasp, feeling suddenly even more unbalanced and you start to realize maybe this wasn't the smartest plan.

"You fuckin' prick, don't talk about her like that, you hear me?" James suddenly swears loudly. Because you hadn't been paying attention to the boys under you, when you hear James and look down at him, you see that he'd pushed Arthur into the snow and was pinning him down.

Alarmed by their shouts, you accidentally slip as you turn around to make sure James's is okay.

You let out a shriek and all the students suddenly look up, seeming to remember your presence. Momentarily distracted by your scream, Arthur slams his elbow into James's cheekbone and sends him falling off him. Chaos ensues as everyone rushes to crowd around both you and James separately.

Remus kneels next to you, his hand coming behind your head to support you up. You're clutching at your ankle as you wail uncontrollably from the way you had fallen onto the snow. With nimble fingers, Remus cuffs your jeans and sees how swollen your ankle looks. "Oh, honey, that looks like it hurts," he whispers and caresses your cheek with his knuckles.

From next to you, Sirius and other students are standing around James; James, who has scrambled up from the ground. His nose is bleeding and the crimson liquid stains the snow as he curses at Arthur. Sirius is holding James up by his shoulders and he uses his hand to pinch James's nose as his best friend winces in pain. Arthur, who has a prominent bruise under his eye, is pulled away by his friends.

"What happened here?" The low drone of the Headmaster, accompanied by an anxious looking Professor McGonagall, is heard and you all turn your heads around.

* * *

Around an hour later, as Madam Pomfrey takes the time to heal your ankle, a disheveled looking James sits on the bed opposite of yours. He's holding a handkerchief to his nose and Madam Pomfrey hasn't tended to his injury yet. To her defense, James still looks extremely pissed and you wouldn't want to approach him either. You won't have that same luxury as the moment Madam Pomfrey is gone, James is staring.

"What were you thinking?" he whispers, his tone quipped. Still a little fuzzy from how drunk you'd been, you blink at him and shift uncomfortably.

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking?" you counter, defensively.

"What?" James drops the handkerchief and glares.

"Why would you jump Arthur like that?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" James hisses, his eyes narrowing. He's your best friend, he knows you hate it when he swears but that doesn't stop him now. "You're fucking reckless, you know? How could you have been so fucking stupid?"

You stare at James as your eyes water painfully. No coherent words form in your head. You're grateful for an escape when Remus and Sirius pile into the room.

Sirius rushes to your side. "Aw, poor sweetness, does it hurt terribly?" his sentence dies when he sees your tears and he wraps an arm around you so you can hug him. "Y/n, what's wrong?"

Remus, always more intuitive than Sirius, looks at James and sees James's furious expression. He frowns and quickly walks over to his best friend and holds onto his arm. James pushes him away and you see Remus whisper something in his ear.

However, Sirius pulls your attention away from them as he wipes your tears with his thumb.

"I am not!" Your attention is pulled again and you hear James shout as Remus shushes him.

You sniff, and look at Sirius. "James hates me," you say and Sirius's expression falls. He looks behind and sees Remus and James's shushed argument. He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand as his gaze softens.

"James couldn't hate you even if he'd been cursed to," he says so simply.

You shake your head and bite your lip. "No, he's really mad…like really mad, Pads."

Sirius chuckles and sighs, "Oh sweetie, James isn't really mad at you. He's mad at himself. Merlin, you should have seen him when he first saw you on that roof, the poor bloke looked about ready to faint."

Sirius continues and turns to Remus and James only to see they've moved further away from you and Sirius, and James looks like he could burst into tears at any moment, "Jamie is madly in love with you, Y/n. Just the possibility of you and another guy makes him go absolutely bonkers. And listen, if he hadn't hit Arthur like he did, I don't know if you would have fallen, doll. James knows that too and he's simply mad with guilt."

You try to concentrate on Sirius's entire story but your mind stays stuck at the words; "James? In love with me?"

Sirius's lips curl in amusement but he doesn't have the time to answer because he hears Remus shout an exasperated; "Prongs!" as James, his nose still very much broken and bloody, storms out of the Hospital Wing without a second word. Your chest tightens as you watch him and if you could, you'd run after him.

* * *

James has been avoiding you. Or more accurately, he's been avoiding everyone for the last three days. He's never in the common room anymore and he has evening detentions with Professor McGonagall so you don't see him at all outside of classes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all tell you he's been quiet in their dorm too and that they don't know what's happened with him either.

Remus won't tell anyone what he spoke to James about that night in the Hospital Wing.

By the fourth day of complete silence, you've had enough. You manage to catch James on his way to detention. You speed walk over to him and cut his path, spinning around to look at him. You gasp when you see him. His face is bruised and his lip is split. "James!" you gasp and stop him. James's brown eyes narrow and he looks angry.

"Get out of my way, Y/n," he hisses as his fists clench.

"What happened?" you insist. His burises look horrible, and you think that he hadn't got his broken nose healed properly since he'd stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Why handn't the boys told you James looked like this?

"Are you a bloody insane? What he fuck happened?" your voice comes out stern and James pauses at your curse word, his frustrated expression faltering for a moment.

"What?"

You hold onto his sleeve and push him into the nearest girls lavatory. James almost trips as you make him lean against the sink. His eyes widen when you pull out your wand and firmly grasp his chin in your hands. You ignore his whinning as you point your wand at his wounds. "Episky—shush be still," you mutter sternly as you heal all of his wounds. "What is wrong with you, James Potter? Tell me who you've been tousling with this instant!"

James scrunches his nose and touches where his wounds had been. He leans away from you. "Nobody," he says, his voice high so you know he's lying.

"James," you warn. You move away and shove your wand in your cloak. "Please, tell me."

James has never been able to deny you a thing, even at times like this. "Fine, just don't lose your head over it, bird," you scowl at the nickname with an eye roll. "Brown keeps pushing my buttons, is all," he says.

"Arthur? The same boy who broke your nose?"

"Yeah, that little fucker, I'm pretty sure he's in love with you—or he has some weird obsession because he can't keep your name out of his fucking mouth," James suddenly pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, "Shi-sorry I keep curing, I know you don't like it when we curse."

Almost like he's sulking, James leans against the sink and stares at you. He doesn't speak.

"You're such a wanker," you mumble and look at him more closely, "Why are you acting like such a prick since that night?"

"Oh, since the night you almost fucking died?" James raises his eyebrows, his tone sarcastic and you ignore the curse word again.

"Horrible exaggeration considering all I did was break my ankle."

"Could have been your neck," James deadpans.

"Well, it wasn't my neck and that's certainly no excuse to be a such a prat," you say seriously. James considers your words and sighs. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair and looks away.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks.

You stare at him like he's absolutely mental. "That you're sorry?"

James laughs and you swear you've never met a boy as stubborn as he is. "Why would I be sorry?"

"Are you serious, James?" you whisper and press your finger accusingly on his chest, "Listen to me, I know I shouldn't have been on that roof, that's my mistake, but you know damn well I wouldn't have been on that roof if you'd all come with me to the party like you'd promised!" your voice comes out rushed, "And I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't have to knock down Arthur Brown and make me worried for you!"

James's cheeks are flaming. "You think I, out of everyone, don't know that?" he says, straightening up and moving closer to you, his voice harsh, "do you think I don't lay awake at night, going absolutely insane over every possible scenario that prevents you from falling?" James's voice cracks and he steps forwards again.

You look up at him, slightly breathless. For someone so angry, James looks undeniably handsome. "I know we should have gone to the party with you, but Merlin, I couldn't bear another one! Another party I would have had to spend watching other boys fawn all over you! Fuck, Y/n, how could I have known you would decide take a drunken nightly stroll on a roof because we hadn't shown up!"

You listen to him, eyes wide, "You don't like it when boys fawn over me?" you whisper.

James frowns. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. "Of course I don't," he says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Because you should be mine," James's voice is smaller now, less authoritative, less angry.

You stare at him and take in his expression with an inhale of breath. "But, James, I am yours."

James shakes his head quickly and tugs at his curls. "No, no. You aren't mine. You're ours. Sirius, Remus, Peter—you're our best friend. And I was okay with that, until I wasn't anymore and now everytime Arthur Brown says he wants to kiss your lips all I want is to punch something." James's fists clench and he looks away from you.

"You're scaring me," you look at him, whispering honestly but you don't move away from him.

James looks down and this time he looks really remorseful, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I don't meant to scare you. I—"

"So, Sirius was right," you inquire, taking his sudden remorse as a widow for a civilized conversation.

"Sirius was right about what?"

"You're in love with me," you don't say it as a question, more like a statement and James's eyes round so wide you're almost afraid they'll pop out of his skull.

James tries to escape but as he backs away, he bumps into the sink and his heart sinks. His eyes are moving so rapidly around the room and his cheeks have turned a less aggressive crimson and into a more lovesick pink.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he mumbles to himself, feeling warmth on his cheek.

"What?"

James rubs at his nape and looks less angry and more nervous. You smile. You had been right to strike this conversation now. "Moony, in the Hospital Wing. He said I loved you—which was why I was acting like a prick and I don't," he backtracks immediately, "I mean, I love you as a friend and n-nothing more."

You expected to feel pain at the rejection but instead, you laugh. You stare at James and laugh harder. So hard, you clutch your sides and James's eyebrows crease with worry as you hyperventilate in front of him.

"Because you should be mine," you repeat his words through your laughter, "That's what you said and now you want me to believe you aren't in love with me?!"

"What?!" James's crimson cheeks have returned and he sounds annoyed now, "I- listen, sorry to disappoint but I-I am not in love with you!"

"You aren't?" you look at him, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"No!"

"Then why do you want me to be yours? What does that mean, hmm, James?"

You walk a little closer and your arms rest on the sink behind him. You ignore the way your heart is pounding your chest and screaming at you as you stand so close to him. James is staring down as you look up at him through your lashes. You expect another protest, maybe another incoherent defense, but instead he mumbles, "Fuck it," under his breath and takes your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you.

Without a second thought, you kiss him back. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. It's almost animalistic the way James is kissing you and it only lasts a few seconds before he's disconnecting your lips and resting his forehead onto yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you—"

"Oh, shut up," you grumble and kiss him again. He accepts the kiss and spins you around. He uses his arm to hoist you onto the sink and deepen the kiss. You hold onto him and wince when your hip accidentally hits the faucet. James pulls away and looks at you like he can't believe what just happened.

"Okay, so maybe I am in love with you," he finally admits and his chest is heaving from all the emotions.

You crack a smile, "I'm in love with you too, James," you admit and touch his cheek. "Only, you can't act like a prick to me when you can't deal with your emotions. You should have told me all these feelings instead of sulking like a child."

James nods and squeezes his eyes shut, "I was just so angry at myself," he whispers.

"I know, Sirius said that was the reason."

James chuckles with a roll of his eyes, "How does Sirius suddenly know my emotions better than I do? He's usually the emotional wreck!"

You adjust his glasses a little, "He's just observant," you say, "and you're stubborn."

James pulls you in, holding you close to him as he dips and kisses your neck. He hums against your skin and whispers, "I'm such a fool, can you forgive me?" he asks, basically pleads, "I'm just, I was jealous."

You laugh, "Oh, I know. But, James, you know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

James whines and looks at you with his famous doe eyes; "I have every reason to be jealous. I'm jealous of the way Peter laughs at your jokes, or how Remus bonds over books with you. I'm jealous of Sirius and how he makes you laugh, and I'm jealous of every boy that looks your way. And worst of all, I'm jealous of the sun because it shines on you every day and I can't," he sounds like a lovesick idiot. He's barely making sense.

You look at him seriously, "James. You are the sun. You're my sun."

James looks into your eyes and bats his eyelashes innocently. He says, "So, you forgive me for being a wanker?" It's obvious he wants to make you laugh and he succeeds as you chuckle and playfully and lightly swat his cheek.

"I'll forgive you," you say, "for now."

James pouts but he also lifts you and spins you around. He drops you on the ground, his hands at your hips and kisses your forehead. "I'll take it, love. Now, let's tell our friends we aren't mad at each other anymore."

"I was never really mad with you," you point out with a snort as James takes your hand.

James squints, and looks behind his shoulder at you. "Yeah, you were," he says but when you shake your head he decides not to argue with you and just smiles, "Okay, fine, then let's go tell our friends I'm not being a baby anymore."

"Much better," you beam with a giggle and James realizes with a hopeless smile that he wants to be the only reason you ever giggle like that again.

Merlin, he really is madly in love with you.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #james potter smut #marauders fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #marauders imagine

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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jealous

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.

word count: 2k

a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗

Jackson, Wyoming

Winter 2024

“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”

Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.

You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.

And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.

In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.

And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.

“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.

Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.

You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.

After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”

Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”

Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”

Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.

Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.

Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.

Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.

“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him.

With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”

“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”

He remained silent.

“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”

Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.

You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”

“But Joel—”

“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”

Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.

“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?

He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”

“Then why the hell are you so upset?”

“I ain’t upset, either.”

“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”

Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”

You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”

He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you’re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”

“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”

“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”

Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”

“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.

“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.

His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”

You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”

“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”

“Joel—”

He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”

“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.

Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move.

Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.

He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”

“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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futureman · 10 months

Text

one more cup of coffee

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 850

a/n: pure, falling in love fluff based on the 8bitfiction quote "your color is everywhere"

You never noticed it before today, but now it’s everywhere. It’s in the coffee he drinks in the mornings, sewn into his fall jacket and winter coat, and stained onto his guitars and wood carvings. You can even see its richness in his hair and eyes.

The color brown is everywhere. It’s his color. You’re constantly surrounded by him whether he’s with you or not, and the thought is so comforting.

Joel doesn’t have a favorite color—you’ve asked him before and the answer is always the same—but if he did, you think it would be brown. It has the potential to be so many things: warm and deep, yet dark, and so full of life. Just like him.

They say when you fall in love, it’s something you just know in your heart is true, but they never say when you know. If it’s sudden or something that builds over time until you can’t ignore it anymore.

Maybe it’s different for everyone, but you’re discovering that it’s possible to wake up on an unassuming Monday and realize how much you love the color brown. And the man it reminds you of.

You always thought it would be some big revelation that changes everything, but here you are sitting at the kitchen table, sipping your coffee out of Joel’s favorite owl mug, feeling exactly the same. It’s how every morning goes and how they’ve gone every day for years. It’s your routine.

You hear floorboards creaking above you, and then there he is: right on cue. Walking down your brown, carpeted stairs in his brown suede coat, looking at you sleepily with the fondest look in his brown eyes. You watch him over the rim of his mug and he chuckles, shaking his head as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“There’s about a dozen mugs in this house and that’s the one ya chose, huh?” he says, voice still thick with sleep, as if that’s anything new. Your next sip is an extra loud slurp, and you let out a satisfied haah for good measure.

“I dunno what to tell you. Coffee just tastes better out of this one,” you shrug, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, opening the cabinet to find something else to drink out of. “You drink yours too fast, anyway. It’d be wasted on you.”

Scoffing, he picks one with the phases of the moon printed on it that you’re pretty sure he found in a museum nearby. It’s Ellie’s favorite, but you both know she never eats breakfast and hates coffee, so he can get away with using it.

“Not my fault I got places to be,” he looks at you pointedly. The moka pot on the stove starts to boil, and he waits for it to fill up before pouring himself a cup and sitting at the table across from you. “Still don’t know why ya got up so damn early when your shift doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“Maybe I just like seeing you off in the morning. Ever thought of that?” He eyes you skeptically. You lean forward in your chair, resting your arms on the table with a grin. “Or maybe I just wanted the mug.”

Obviously, it’s not just the mug and Joel’s well aware of that. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you right now with adoration and a hint of wonder in his eyes. It must be mirrored in your own, and now you’re wondering if he notices anything different about you today. If he realizes what you suddenly woke up knowing with absolute clarity.

“Well, you’re gettin’ both this mornin’. Lucky you,” he says, giving you a small smile. And he’s right, you are so, so lucky.

“Yeah, lucky me,” you nod, disappointment blooming in your chest as he takes the final sip of his coffee and gets up to put his cup in the sink. He returns to where you’re sitting to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll see ya for dinner,” he murmurs into your hair before turning to leave. You reach out to grab the sleeve of his coat before he can get too far.

“Hey,” you start, heart beating a little faster in your chest, and he looks down at you curiously. You know you’ll see him again later, but you need him to hear it before he goes. It’s not that you’re expecting him to say it back or suddenly feel the same way you do, but you just…you want him to know.

“You know I love you, right?”

His gaze softens and, this time, he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes and sigh into him, tasting coffee and toothpaste as his tongue brushes fleetingly against yours, and when you open them, all you can see is brown.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on yours, those warm brown eyes looking at you as if for the first time and, yet, the same way they always have.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fluff

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w3irdo666 · 2 months

Text

Every End Is The Beginning Of The Next End.

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Warnings:choking, swears, injuries, mind breaking, slightly gore.

Notes: I hope you will like it! It is one-shoot, i dont plan to write another chapter.(⁠⌐⁠■⁠-⁠■⁠)

Who knew that Alastor could be interested in an ordinary person. A person who, due to the loss of herself and going crazy from failures, summoned a demon to sell him her soul. Is this advisable? You didn’t care. And now you are reaching out your shaking hand to the demon to make a deal. A bright green light illuminates your dark room, the demon takes on a more eerie form, but you don’t care. You look at him with an empty look. The look of a dead, hopeless human.

Alastor's dark red eyes sparkled in the darkness, studying you.Your emotionless face, empty eyes...He saw many humans with who he made a deal, but you..You were sometimes new. Everyone were asking for a fame, money, strength! But you...you asked him to bring a little love to your life, wich surprised him.You wanted to sell your soul...for a 1 year of comfort and relationship?! Its so pathetic for him, but also so amusing.

You never got enough love in your childhood, parents always arguing, always at work, never have enough time for you, never here... You never felt true love and care, without help of someone close to you, you fell to this pit of darkness, suffer and destruction.

At the time when deal was settled, Alastor disappeared in shadows, leaving you alone, but watched...

Year felt like eternity.You found a guy who loved you and you felt yourself answering his love.You forgot about all the problems and horrors that you had in the past.Sweet talks, perfect mornings, you felt like you are in heaven, it was a perfect life.You already forgot about the deal.All you thought about was your partner. About the one who brought you joy.

All this time, Alastor was watching you from the shadows. He gave you the opportunity to live this goal in joy, as it was said in the deal.. He was amazed at how a person changes, giving him just a little love. He even found something in it....humorous....but..No matter how strange and unusual it was for a demon, he began to have feelings for you... strange feelings. He began to be annoyed by how happy you looked with this man. he should be in his place. he has your soul. Only he is in the right to evoke emotions in you.

In the last week of the year, he reminded of himself. You stood at the mirror and straightened your clothes, when suddenly your reflection began to blur and soon Alastor appeared instead of your reflection... You took a few steps back, almost falling. His grin widened slightly. He tilted his head to the side, as if mocking your fear.

"...What do you want...time is not up yet." You asked, raising your head slightly to slightly hide your fear, but this only caused the demon to chuckle. You heard his radio voice sound in your head, but the reflection in the mirror did not move its mouth. "Ah, darling, I know, I just wanted to remind you that your joys will soon come to an end."

“I know without you... Disappear.” Alastor frowned. He was angry at your insolence. You suddenly felt like you were lacking oxygen, you fell to your knees in front of the mirror, leaning your hands on the floor. Something was choking you, your eyes widened in fear , you felt cold, as if you had been sent outside in summer clothes in winter. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you shouldn’t talk like that to someone who has you on a leash.”

You felt tears appearing in the corners of your eyes, you somehow raised your head and looked in the mirror. Alastor was still there with a sadistic grin. His eyes were narrowed in mockery. "P-please....Al-Alastor..."

"Address me right." His radio voice echoed in your head.You felt your strength leaving you.

"M-master.. s-sto-"

"Wrong"

You felt the invisible grip on your throat become stronger. A few more seconds and you will lose consciousness.

"Excuse me, m-master..F-forgive me for my i-ignorance!!!"

You finally took a deep breath, feeling that access to oxygen was no longer blocked.You lowered your head down, not wanting to look at the demon.Alastor watched your every move, he took great pleasure in the concept that you were in his power. It was something different, not what he usually felt when he played with his other victims.

The rest of the week was like hell, Alastor did not let you enjoy it. Every time he came into your dream, causing you horror just from his demonic appearance... No, not from the usual one, but from his full form.. Those big horns. ..fingers...no, they’re not even fingers, but long claws. He showed up in reflections every time. Just when you didn’t expect to see him there. Your boyfriend was of course worried about your condition, but you said that “Everything is fine, dear, I just didn't get enough sleep..."

It was the evening of the last day. You felt broken.You quarreled with your boyfriend, he said that he was disgusted with a person like you.

"I don't know what happened to you, but it's not you. You disgust me."

"B-but-"

"That's enough. I'm leaving."

You were lying on the sofa, your eyes swollen from crying, your hair disheveled, dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep.You felt exactly the same as when you made a deal with the demon.Your hand lay on top of your face. You didn’t want to see anything.You wanted all of this already to end.

A hot tear slowly flowed from your face.Sound of wind playing with curtains was heard in the dead silence..You were going through the memories of how well you spent this year. Smile...Joy...you felt cold.No.Not because it was cold at home.Because of the fear.

You felt someone's presence next to the sofa.

"Here is my end" You understood, not opening your eyes.A graceful wave of your hand... A second and the sofa was covered in your blood. Alastor stood near the sofa, which was now completely covered in blood, leaning on his cane.

"It is not end, my dear.This is the beginning of the end."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you

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moni-logues · 5 months

Text

Kintsugi 15

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 6.8k

Content: references to self-harm, description of self-harm scars, some chat about self-harm; oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, protected sex

A/N: I said I'd make it clear, so let's do that: IT'S THE END! THE FINAL ONE!! THE LAST CHAPTER! IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!! NO MORE!!! NO MAS!!!! FINIT!!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!!

I was so relieved to finish this yesterday and thought I would be glad more than anything to post this and finally (FINALLY!!!) bring the series to a close, but I honestly do also feel kind of sad it's over. We've been together over a year now, these characters and me; I've been actually writing them for a year but they first popped into my head 18 months ago. And now we're at the end.

Huge thank you to everyone who has beta'd for me, inc. for this chapter @quarter-life-crisis2 and @here2bbtstrash, @minttangerines, @blog-name-idk, and Amethyst

Thank you to everyone who has left comments and come along on this journey with me; it has meant SO much to me to have your investment in and enthusiasm for this story. It has made it so rewarding to tell and I hope you like their ending.

Without further ado...

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Chapter Fifteen - Spring

You rested your head gently against the window, watching the people come and go. The cherry blossoms had fallen already, gathered in gutters and collected in corners. You were always sad to see them go, but this year, you felt like they had given you something. Summer, of course, as always: the heat, the sun, the long days, the blessed relief of an ice-cold drink and even colder air-conditioning. This year, the cherry blossoms had brought you something else. Truly like confetti, they had blown around you, whirled around you, celebrating your first week of From Now On.

You didn’t say that you were getting ahead of yourself. Not this time. Because you weren’t that anxious about it, as much as that surprised you. You had all the anticipation of your first day at school with none of the nerves. The cherry blossoms had gone but they hadn’t left a hole; you couldn’t feel their absence because your life felt abundant. Last year, when you had watched them bloom and fall and fade away, you had been empty. All the joy they usually brought you couldn’t touch the sides of your despair. It hurt more to see them ushering in spring when you felt stranded alone in winter. But now you weren’t alone. Not even close.

It was a fairly mild day, just the cool side of hot, and still. You had been impatient and got ready early, hence the sitting and staring. Yoongi wasn’t due for another five minutes, but you’d been there for twenty already. You imagined you might see him on his approach to your building and get to observe him, unnoticed. You wondered what he was doing right now – driving? In a taxi? On the subway? Was he already on his feet, close to you? Was he nervous? You thought he would be. His shyness recently reminded you of when you first met, those tentative overtures of friendship, the thrill you felt when he opened himself up to you.

It was not unlike the thrill you felt now, waiting for him to pick you up for your very first date.

When he was due in no less than two minutes, you stood and moved to your mirror. You had, initially, planned to wear something that you considered sexier – that is to say, more form-fitting, a little more scandalous, a dress that showed off a little more of what your mother gave you – and then you changed your mind. You didn’t need to do that, because Yoongi already knew. He had already seen what lay beneath and it was all for him now anyway. So you dressed a little more comfortably, in a dress with a little more give, a little more fabric and flounce. You looked cute; you wanted Yoongi to think you looked cute.

Then, as you always did, you heard his footsteps.

“Babe!” you cried, leaning out of your door to see him coming from the end of the corridor.

But you almost didn’t manage to say anything at all because, whilst you had expected Yoongi, you hadn’t expected Yoongi in a suit, holding flowers. It stopped you short; you had been about to run out to him, jump into his arms, do something silly. Instead, you were flustered, grinning at him from your doorway, your heart going like the clappers and your blood roaring in your ears because god-fucking-damn, had he always been that handsome?

“No!” he called back. “Go back inside! What are you doing?”

What were you doing? Short-circuiting, a little. His hair was still long and you imagined it twisted between your fingers, soft and pullable; he was smiling, even as he scolded you, all his little teeth on display. You had always liked a man in a suit – you must have said it a thousand times – but you had not been prepared for how much you liked this man in a suit. You were going to have to get some kind of grip if you were going to make it through dinner.

“I’m saying hello!” you called back, a little too loudly now that he was closer. “I was going to run out to meet you!”

“Get back inside! I’m supposed to be picking you up! I need to knock on your door!”

Truthfully, Yoongi would have loved to have you run out of your apartment and into his arms, even if he’d tumbled, you’d stumbled, you’d both fallen to the floor in a bumped, bruised heap. He’d have loved to have thrown all caution to the wind and run away with you. But all of that was still overwhelming, far too much good for a boy who still thought he was bad, and there was a process to be followed, procedure. He was clinging to that. Like a life raft.

Yoongi had practised. In as much as you can practise speaking to a friend without actually speaking to them. He had forgotten, in all his anxiety about dating you, about being with you, being seen by you, that you were his friend. He’d had these feelings for you from the very beginning and they had never paralysed him like he felt they were now. He knew sex was not the (only) answer, that sooner or later, he was going to have to remember how to act around you. So he called each of his friends in turn to hang out with them, to remind himself, firstly, that he had them, that he was likable; secondly, that he enjoyed their company—he enjoyed company in general, more than he would ever let on; thirdly, that he could be good company: he got a laugh out of every one of them. That had to count for something.

And he bought you flowers. Because they would provide a good distraction in case all of these remembrances fell out of his head the second he saw you. And because he wanted to, because that’s what you should do when you take someone out on a date. He knew you liked tulips and it was tulip season. It felt right. And it released a little of his impulse to shower you with things, to buy things for you and haemorrhage cash to make him seem worth it.

For the longest time, money had been all he had. He had laughed out loud in his therapist’s office when he said that because, for the longest time, money was all he didn’t have. The not-having of money was the very thing that defined his life and set him on this path; it was the bedrock beneath the biggest of his life’s decisions. And then it became all he had. All he had to offer. He was still learning that maybe there were other things, too.

You did as you were told and shut the door, palms pressed against it as you listened to your heart and tried to make it slow. Then you waited six seconds until you heard his first knock.

“Oh my god, hi!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea you were here!”

Yoongi pretended he wasn’t grinning and shot you a look.

“Shut up,” he replied. “I bought you these.”

Tulips. Your favourite flower. You didn't remember ever telling Yoongi that, but maybe he just knew. They were another reason that April was your favourite time of year. Seoul Forest was full of them, hundreds, thousands of them blanketing the banks. There was a rainbow of colour in every direction; tall heads on sturdy stems barely touched by breezes, swaying like a choir. It was like a pilgrimage; you went every year. Maybe this year, you would take Yoongi.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

You took them from him, not bothering to try to restrain your smile from splitting your face in half, and leant in to kiss him. Then you stopped.

“Are we allowed to kiss?” you asked, one inch from his face. Then you moved away and started looking in cupboards for a vase you weren’t sure you owned.

Yoongi looked confused.

“Y’know, kissing on a first date?”

He still looked confused. Then you remembered. You laughed.

“Oh, of course, that’s right. You’re Mr Fucks on a First Date, aren’t you?”

You expected him to be surprised; you hoped he would be a little flustered, hoped you would get to see that pink creep onto his cheeks in a way that was just too cute. Instead, he grinned and you felt your own cheeks heat.

“Is that a promise?” he asked and your stomach swooped.

You had found a vase, tipped flower food into it, and were gently arranging the stems. You abandoned them in favour of moving closer him, then a little closer, slowly closer, until your lips were almost on his.

“Cheeky,” you muttered, eyes flicking down to his lips, amaranth pink and just a little pouty. You bit your own.

Yoongi hummed.

“So is that a yes?”

“Only if you play your cards right.”

You dragged your eyes up and slowly pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t stop yours from reaching up, tangling one in his hair, using the other to rake through the dark locks you hoped he never cut. It wasn’t exactly the kind of grip you needed to get, but every atom of your body was asking for more. It was intoxicating to be kissed by him.

It was Yoongi who broke from you (you did not have the same level of restraint), his mouth lifting in a grin as he nodded his head slightly towards the counter, where your tulips stood in their vase.

“Did I mention I got you flowers?”

“You might need to tell me one more time.”

You weren’t nervous. Not at all. On the one hand, you felt like you should be, because it was Yoongi and this felt enormous. When you stood back and looked at it, it was huge. He was one of your two (2) friends in this world and you were ruining your friendship good and proper. You could still remember the sharp-toothed despair that wound around you like a strait-jacket after what happened with Sungbin; you remembered the suffocating heartbreak of San leaving you. You knew that it could happen here. There wasn’t a guarantee that Yoongi was The One, that you were The One for Yoongi. It should have scared you.

But it didn’t. It was too hard to be anxious sitting across from him at dinner, as if you hadn’t sat and done this very thing with him dozens of times before. It was impossible to worry about whether or not he liked you when he looked at you like that, when he smiled in that way that you had always suspected was just for you. You knew he liked you because he was here. He had asked for this date and bought you flowers and he was laughing and teasing and being exactly the person you knew him to be. That didn’t make you nervous.

Yoongi had picked the restaurant carefully. Not too fancy, not too quiet, not too busy, not too empty, not too casual. He had spent a great many hours trawling the internet for reviews and photos and listings. He wasn’t usually this obsessive, but so much about it all had felt out of his control and this was in it. So he was going to get it right.

Sitting across from you, he knew he needn’t have bothered. Because he knew you didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure, sometimes, if you knew what you were eating, because you barely stopped talking to shove it in. You spoke around the food in your mouth and whirled your chopsticks around as you gestured. You picked things off his plate and dropped pieces of your own food onto it. You had this way of creating a world around yourself, such that he forgot where he was; he forgot there was anyone else around, anything else to think about. And he realised he could have taken you anywhere and it would have been just exactly this good. Because it was you.

“Do you want to go for a drink or something? I looked up a couple of bars not far from here,” Yoongi said as he led you, your hand in his, from the restaurant.

You leant up against him, shook your head and pouted.

“No?”

You shook your head again.

“Ice-cream?”

Not that either.

“Ok... Do you want to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

Yoongi seemed surprised and you saw his eyes dim and realised—too slowly, clumsily for too much wine—that you had not exactly said what you meant.

“I want to go home with you, please,” you clarified, still pouting up at him.

“Oh.”

It took Yoongi a couple of seconds to recalibrate, then he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Miss Fucks on a First Date, is it?”

You punched him playfully in the arm and he didn’t bother to act like it hurt.

“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi offered as you slipped off your shoes inside his apartment.

You shrugged. You would have one if he wanted, but you didn’t need one. You felt lush and warm and relaxed enough already. And truthfully, you were at home now, in the privacy of his apartment; you didn’t want to waste a minute with your mouth on anything that wasn’t him.

You kissed him, soft at first, because you did want to fuck on your first date, but you weren’t an animal; you had some patience. Or, that’s what you thought as you pressed your lips against his, but the thought washed away like writing on the sand as soon as you tasted him. All your impatience, all your greed, all your excitement came rushing forward, into the fray, a tsunami of feeling, all good, all for him, all surging through you like a stampede.

“I never,” you started, interrupting yourself with another kiss, one more. “I never want to stop kissing you.”

“Then don’t.”

You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body against his, suddenly too warm, hot, the fabric of your dress burning where it brushed your skin. You pushed Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders and pulled at the knot of his tie. He laughed against your lips and pulled back.

“You know you’re just making it tighter?”

You whined and let him take over, deftly undoing the damage you’d done and loosening it properly, pulling it through the collar of his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You thought that was quite long enough to not be kissing, to not be held so tight against him, you could practically feel his heartbeat in your chest, but he held you back.

When he started walking away from you, you rushed after him, grabbing his hand as he opened his bedroom door.

“Cherry?” he called softly, padding over to the bed, where she was curled up on the pillow. “You have to get the fuck out of here, ok?”

She ‘mrowed’ at him and rolled onto her back, exposing her exquisitely soft underbelly for strokes, purring when Yoongi put his hand on her. You thought to yourself that you would quite like to be the one purring under his touch, but had to accept that being jealous of a cat was insane, even for you.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, lifting her up and walking away from you yet again, taking her out to the living room and placing her on the sofa.

“You mean you don’t even give her a free show?” you asked when he returned to the bedroom.

Yoongi’s face flattened and he looked at you, pretending not to be amused.

“Would you like to fuck in front of my cat?”

You jumped up and skipped over to him with a giggle.

“No, thank you!”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and wasted no time reconnecting your mouths. Yoongi, now the cat was out of the room and the door firmly shut, seemed as impatient as you were, his hands sliding under the skirt of your dress and up, slipping beneath your underwear and squeezing at your backside. His mouth moved to your jaw and then your neck, sucking soft kisses into your skin, holding you firmly close to him.

You were impatient because you wanted more, more, and even more of him and you wanted it now. But you also wanted each moment to last. Every time his lips met your skin, they felt softer; every time his tongue rolled over yours, he tasted sweeter; every time his hands squeezed, you felt your heart race a little faster. You wanted him immediately and you also wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t get enough of him.

He moved his hands upwards, outside your dress, and made light work of the buttons at the back that had honestly taken you forever to do up by yourself. You hummed.

“You’re good at that.”

“Hm?”

“Good with your fingers.”

He chuckled and flicked you lightly with one hand whilst his other freed a button from its clasp.

“Is that right?”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

You shivered, even in the warm room, in the bright light of the sun streaming in through the window, when he pulled your dress off and you let it pool on the floor. You didn’t have time to be self-conscious, even if you might have otherwise, because Yoongi was on you, pushing you towards the bed until you were flat on your back, his mouth exploring your body as if he’d forgotten every inch of it in the last week. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and tugged down; you shuffled in response, lifting your hips and wriggling out of it in a way that was less than dignified, and less than efficient, but you didn’t want Yoongi to move off you, didn’t want to sit and then stand so you could do the job properly.

Naked, again, beneath Yoongi, fully-clothed, you held tight to his shirt collar and hoped he would let you know what he wanted. You wanted to let him lead.

And lead he did. He pulled one of your hands to his shirt buttons and you experimentally popped one open. He led your hand to the next one. You worked your way to the bottom, pulling the ends from his trousers, kissing him: his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He wouldn’t look at you and you could see the red on his ears; if you pressed your hand against his chest, you could feel the thump of his heart like a hammer.

“Baby,” you whispered as you slowly slid your hands under his shirt, his body warm against them, soft, not smooth.

He gave no reply and you nudged him gently with your nose.

“Baby, look at me.”

It took seconds that felt like minutes before his eyes met yours. They were guarded, unsure, a little bit afraid. You kissed his lips and smiled.

“We can stop here,” you reminded him but he shook his head.

“Go on.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded but his eyes were elsewhere again.

You pushed your hands along his chest, around his shoulders, forcing the shirt to fall to the bed. You let your hands see him first, your lips still employed on his neck. He was soft and warm and the dip of his spine slightly damp with sweat. You felt them before you saw them, laddering down his arms, criss-crossing his chest, a handful near his hip that were rough and scabbed, still healing.

It hadn’t occurred to you until that moment that you had never seen Yoongi in a T-shirt. That he always wore long sleeves. You hadn’t noticed. Now you knew why.

Yoongi’s face was pink now, a little pained, uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Yoongi wanted to burst into flames and drown himself both at once. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he knew he’d not be able to see for tears. He was holding his breath, waiting for something he desperately didn’t want to happen, even though it always had. The shock, the disgust, the reluctance, the holding at arm’s length.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, kissed the single, thick, raised scar on his wrist and all the smaller ones that followed. You turned him around, guiding him gently so he lay against the headboard, so you could kiss him all over, each and every one of them.

“Babe,” you called to him, crawling up his body until you hovered over him, resting on your hands.

Then you lowered yourself on top of him, skin to skin, and stroked through his hair.

“Hey,” you tried again and Yoongi nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you ok?”

He nodded again.

“Gonna look at me and say that?”

When he looked at you, it was a Yoongi you had never seen before. Shy and defeated and embarrassed and sad and there was something hurt in his eyes that almost made you angry – because no one was allowed to hurt him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

You kissed him once and then again and he cleared his throat lightly.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Yoongi...”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Some of the hesitation in his face left him then and he looked at you.

“Have you changed your mind?”

It was a little defensive, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice.

“No,” you answered. “Why would I have changed my mind?”

He looked away again, not answering, though you didn’t need him to. You both knew. But that would never have changed your mind. He could have been covered in slime or secretly a lizard-person and you’d have been just as soft for him as you were now.

Though you were glad that he was neither.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you continued. “Well, it does--” You noticed the clench of his jaw-- “because I know what it takes to do it...” You traced your finger lightly over the scars on his arm. “I know exactly how it feels and I hate that you know, too. I wish I could take it all away from you. So that bothers me. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like it’s something you have to do.

“But-” you pushed yourself up a little, sitting on his lap and pressing your hands to his chest- “actually, also, they’re proof you’re still here, y’know?” Your hand circled his wrist and you pressed your thumb against the worst scar there. “You might not have been. Any one of these could have been the last one, right? But they weren’t. It’s like... every time you do it, it’s a little bit of effort towards staying alive because there’s something worse you could do but you’re not doing that. So it’s proof. Proof that you’re here and trying and you’ve been trying and I, for one, am very glad you are still here. More than glad.”

He didn’t reply. You shrugged.

“And you’ve seen mine. My body is not exactly unscathed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your body.” His voice was stronger, more like his own.

“And there’s nothing wrong with yours.”

Yoongi had to get out from underneath you, had to stop you looking at him, at least for a moment. He knew that it had to happen, that you had to know, but this was too much. Too much of what he didn’t want and not enough of what he did. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. His chest was tight and he felt unsteady and he so badly just wanted to get back to you: you, naked in this bed, with him.

He sat up and his arms came around you and you relished the feeling of your skin on his, nothing but warmth between you. He kissed you, insistent this time, impatient again. He wanted you on his tongue, in his hands, enveloping him. He wanted to serve himself up on a plate for you, kneel and kiss your feet; he wanted to lose himself completely in the sound of you coming undone.

You shuffled off him and fumbled at his belt, at his zip, pushing them to the floor. You barely noticed the skin there, that was really more scar than skin; you didn’t see the light lines and the dark ones, crossing and re-crossing, thickening, fading, all over. Because it didn’t matter to you. That he wasn’t fresh out of the box, perfect and unblemished. No one was. And you shared a pain; the pain that led to these blemishes, these marks, these scars, it was yours, too.

So you didn’t see them as they were un-covered, as he stepped out of his clothes, as you took his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy, you pumped slowly, but Yoongi had other ideas.

He lay you on the bed and spread your thighs, trailing kisses up one side and down the other. You shivered when his hot breath hit your core and again when his mouth met your lips, his tongue licking through your folds. The pleasure felt brand new as he drank you in and you felt the exact right amount of drunk.

If you’d been sober, this would have been too quick; you’d have been too easy, too alert. It would all have been over too soon. But the alcohol blurred the edges, dulled your senses just enough to allow you to luxuriate in it: the soft, wet pad of his tongue brushing over your clit, then hard as it pushed inside you; the press of his kiss-plump lips, their seal as he sucked at your swollen bud. Like swimming through champagne, everything was fizzing and golden.

The sun hit Yoongi’s head, so bright it made his black hair brown and it shone. You tangled a fist in it, pulling his mouth closer, tipping your hips and he flicked his eyes towards you. They were deep and glazed and only half-open, his tongue still pressed against you. You whined and rolled your hips, then did it again and he let you rut against his mouth until all your pleasure was coiling tight, down into a heavy ball in your core.

Then he pulled back and shifted his weight, lifting a hand from your hip.

“Good with my fingers, right?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face, mouth sticky and shining.

“Y-e...eess.”

You answer was punctuated with the slip of those fingers inside you, and your breath hitched by the curling of those fingers, the pressing of them against your front wall. Yoongi lowered himself again and put his mouth back around your clit, the suction hard and sure. You were squirming now, all your muscles tightening, everything drawing down, deep into your core before bursting forward in a wet rush of heat.

You sighed as your limbs flopped against the mattress and your chest heaved. Yoongi wiped his mouth and knelt back, similarly breathless. He took a hand to his cock and squeezed lightly at the base, hissing slightly as he did.

You slithered off the bed, to your knees, and tapped Yoongi’s knee, asking him to turn towards you, reaching for him, for his dark, heavy cock, your mouth growing wet at the mere thought of it.

Yoongi looked hesitant.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

You tipped your head to the side and frowned.

“But... I want to, though?”

He hesitated a second longer and you thought he was going to say no, but he turned and you did nothing to hide your enthusiasm. You pressed a kiss to the tip and let your tongue lick at the pre-cum dripping from it. Yoongi grunted and you grinned because it had actually been a long time since you’d had this kind of fun.

It had been a long time for Yoongi, too, since he’d had his dick in anyone’s mouth. He couldn’t even remember the last time. He’d forgotten the heat of it, the softness and strength of a tongue, the looking down at them looking up. It was frankly criminal, he thought, that you could be so cute with a cock in your mouth. It was every bit as good as he might have dreamt, as hot and wet as he might have imagined. You pushed forward and he could feel the back of your throat, see the tears sparkling in your eyes, caught on your lashes.

He had to stop looking. He tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. He clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing down because, god, it had been so long and it was you. It was you and you had kissed him all over and you were looking up at him with wet stars in your eyes and your mouth was doing all that to him and he closed his eyes. Then you moaned with the tip of his cock at the very back of your mouth and he almost lost all control.

He swore, his throat tight, his thighs twitching. He placed a hand on your head and pushed back your hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull you off him. You wiped your mouth and grinned up at him; it was such a sweet, filthy gesture that he almost came again.

“You ok?” you asked and Yoongi fell to his knees. He answered with a kiss, licking into your mouth, pulling you against him.

“Yes,” he answered, mumbled against your lips. “Want to fuck you now.”

“Yes, please.”

And it was everything you had wanted. Everything you had forgotten sex could be. Yoongi held you close and fucked you slow and you kissed him and caressed him and the world could have fallen apart outside and you would neither have noticed nor cared.

There was something tearing inside Yoongi and he didn’t know what to do about it. Because you were holding him tight, pulling him so close to you, kissing him and moaning into his mouth and no one had wanted him this close, this soft, this slow for a long time. Ever. He had tried to pace himself before, tried not to rush through it but it was a blur to him now, the frenzy and the nerves and the uncertainty of it all rendering it choppy and indistinct. Whereas this was full high-definition. This, you, the way you touched him and looked at him, the way you said his name... it was like a dream. Like something he never thought he would have. The luxury of your warm body so close to his; the indulgence of your lips against his and your eyes sparkling like you had never seen a sweeter sight than him. That you wanted him. That you wanted him and let him know it. That you wanted all of him, as you ran your hands down his arms, as you squeezed at his chest and pressed your hand against his back, pulling him closer.

Because it wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just the thrust of Yoongi’s hips, his cock buried deep in your wet cunt; it wasn’t just the slap and slick of damp skin and arousal; it wasn’t just the pleasure you felt in your core expanding outwards, the heat in your blood, and tingling in your toes. It was all-encompassing; it was everything. It was this person who knew you, all the bad bits as well as the good, knew you and saw you and held you like you were precious. It was feeling safe and cherished and valued. It was knowing that your feelings were reflected, returned, reciprocated. It was the sweetness of finding someone who lit you up and being able to light them up the same way.

When you lay, side by side, spent and sated, you felt like you were glowing. You rolled onto your side, into Yoongi, as he rolled into you and you kissed him again, for the hundredth time or thousandth, it still wasn’t enough.

You slept soundly, without dreaming, without waking, until the sun was high in the sky again the following morning. You turned onto your back, throwing an arm behind you as you went, expecting it to hit Yoongi next to you.

But he wasn’t there. You rubbed your face and pushed yourself into a seated position, assuming he was in the bathroom and would return momentarily.

Then minutes passed and he was nowhere to be seen. You stood and scanned the floor for your underwear. Your dress was already picked up and placed over the back of a chair; Yoongi’s clothes, you could only assume, he had put in the laundry already. Your underwear was not hiding under your dress. You dropped to the floor and onto your hands and knees, to look down under the bed.

“Aha!”

“Aha, what?”

You hit your hand on the bedframe as you quickly pulled it back and span to face Yoongi, standing in the door with an iced coffee in each hand and a paper bag hanging from his wrist. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, bemused but charmed.

You twirled your knickers on one finger.

“Thought I’d lost them. They were under the bed.”

Yoongi merely ‘ah’ed and nodded, placing breakfast on the dressing table and swapping his jeans for light pyjama trousers.

“Did you bring me coffee?” you asked sweetly, knowing the answer.

“And pastries.”

You jumped to your feet and gratefully accepted his offerings, taking a long draw from the straw of a coffee so sweet and milky it might as well not be coffee anymore.

“Do you know how much sugar is in those, by the way?”

“Yep! That’s why they’re so delicious!”

“They’ll kill you.”

You shrugged.

“Oh well. I died doing what I loved: drinking sugary coffee.”

Yoongi chuckled and stepped forward until you were within arm's reach. You could feel his hesitation, so you took it from him, stepping into his body and offering him a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to get back into bed?”

You couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.

You could hear something out in the hall, something maybe like a cat’s purr, but also not a cat’s purr. Some sort of buzzing, intermittent enough that you told yourself you were imagining it at first. But it just kept coming.

“Do you hear that?” you interrupted Yoongi to ask and you held your hand up for silence as you listened for it.

A jarring, quiet kind of noise.

“Sounds like a phone vibrating,” Yoongi offered.

“Oh fuck!”

You scrambled, ungracefully, out of bed, still in just your knickers, and found your phone, buzzing against your keys, half falling out of your bag.

Taehyung.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, overly cheerful because you hadn’t checked the time and you were almost certain he was calling because you were late.

You had planned to have brunch and a debrief. You had forgotten all about it.

“When are you coming home? I’m bored.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear and, upon noting the time, realised that you weren’t late at all. Not even close.

“What do you want, Teddy? I’m seeing you later.”

“I know, but I’m bored now and you’re a dirty, little stop-out.”

“Entertain yourself! I’ll be home when I’m home. I'm not leaving now just because you’re bored.”

He sighed dramatically at the other end of the line.

“So I suppose it’s love, then, is it?”

The word made your heart skip a beat and you didn’t turn around, just in case Yoongi was looking at you.

“Maybe.”

“You sicken me.”

“Fuck off. You’re happy for me.”

“Yes, I am, babygirl. I’m very happy for you but I’m also very lonely and bored. Can’t you just come home a bit early? Yoongi will still be there tomorrow but I am fading away by the second.”

“Dying from lack of attention?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll be home when I’m home, Teddybear. Try to make it until then.”

“Alright, but you’ll be sorry when I'm gone.”

“Extremely. Now leave me alone!”

He heaved another dramatic sigh before hanging up and you skipped back to the bedroom.

“Everything ok?” Yoongi asked as you settled back in his arms.

“Teddy’s being needy.”

“Do you need to go?”

“Absolutely not!” You snuggled in tighter and pressed your lips to his chest. “Not until the very last minute, please.”

Love. You thought about the word when you left Yoongi’s apartment very late that morning. You wanted to say it then and there, tell him, but it felt like a lot. It felt like your usual Too Muchness coming back. You had only been on one date. It was a lot of pressure to put on a person and you didn’t want to pressure Yoongi. You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to take control and careen this fledging thing straight into a ravine.

It felt natural. It felt easy. It felt like everything you had wanted. It felt so right that it was maddening to you that it had taken you so long to see it. But you also understood that that had to happen. The time it took you to see Yoongi like you did now was time you spent getting things wrong and hurting and healing the wrong way and then the right way and you knew that this, this happiness you had that made you glow, that made your steps feel light, it was a result of that time, that patience. So you didn’t want to rush. Didn't want to push. You would still love him tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on. It could wait.

Until six days later, when you were sitting on the subway on your way home from work and you snapped. You didn’t want it to wait. You wanted to tell him. And you knew you could. You could say it and he could not and you would survive that. You would understand. And it wouldn’t matter because you knew he was in this, knew he would get there if he wasn’t there already. You chided yourself for waiting at all, because love should never have to wait. Love should be shouted from the rooftops, shouldn’t it?

So you got off at a different stop and changed lines and you walked as fast as you could to Yoongi’s building and you let yourself in.

“Babe!” you cried as you hastily kicked off your shoes and rounded the corner into the kitchen, a little out of breath.

“Are you ok?”

Yoongi had his apron on, a knife in his hands, vegetables on the chopping board in front of him and it was so sweet, so domestic, a perfect vision of everything you wanted. He was looking at you with concern, as well he might, given you had just burst in, unannounced, in all kinds of a fluster.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you panted. “I just had to tell you. I love you.” You moved closer to him; he put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron and you held tight to it. “I love you. As in, I am in love with you. I love you so much. And I know, I know, it’s been no time at all and it’s too soon and it’s too quick and you don’t have to say it and I don’t want to put any pressure on but I just want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you and I wasn’t going to because- because all of the above! But I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I’m in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He blinked a little and then a bit more.

“Oh.”

He sounded surprised and you laughed because you were nervous and because you felt giddy and silly and so in fucking love. You tugged him closer with his apron and kissed him, firmly at first, then softer when he kissed you back and rested his hands on your hips.

“I love you.”

He said it quietly, his mouth still close enough to yours that you could feel his lips move with the words. You laughed again and kissed him again and whispered it back to him.

“I love you.”

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings, @acquiescence804

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fluff #bts fluff

244 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

hi <33 i just read your yandere jeongguk fic and immediately rushed to see if your requests are still open. (i'm thanking all the gods and the stars that they are😭)

you're so talented and creative, and i'm really hoping you'll accept my prompt. if you're willing, could you please write a non-idol smutty, possessive and jealous yoongi fic?? maybe with a slight age gap? thank you for sharing all your work with us!! have a great day/night <333

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭:

pairing: brothers best friend! yoongi x f. reader

genre: fluff || pwp || non-idol au || age-gap au || brother’s best friend au ||

summary: your brother’s best friend isn’t too happy when you come home with a lipstick stain on your chest, and has no issue about reminding you who you truly belong to.

word count: 2.8k

tags/ warnings: porn without plot, fluff, secret relationship, mild age-gap (5-6 years) smut in the forms of: oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), breeding kink (but she’s on the pill so no babies yet), exhibitionalism? kinda because they fuck in the living room with other people in the house, multiple orgasms, creampie, cockwarming by the fire

notes: thank you so much my darling!! i hope you have a good day/ night too!! it’s all smut, there is a hint of plot but it’s minimal. this is my first time writing pwp so idk how i feel about it :’(

requests rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“You’re home late”

You pause; eyes meeting Yoongi’s gaze, always calculating. Always watching each little move you made until you were squirming, almost begging him to look away— your cheeks flushed red and voice barely above a whisper. And all he had to do was look at you.

If eyes are the windows to the soul then Min Yoongi’s windows have the curtains drawn shut— he had you figured out the minute the two of you met, and it’s taken over a decade for you to even remotely figure him out. And even now, both adults, you really could never figure out what he was thinking.

It’s the frigid caress of the winter wind on the back of your neck that has you shutting the front door. Careful not to slam it shut, assuming everyone but your brothers best friend was already asleep if the lack of lights on from the windows outside was any indication.

You stomp your feet to rid of any snow as you shrug your jacket off. Hanging it on the overcrowded hooks, evidence of another family living with you as you only pray it doesn’t fall.

“It was one of my friends’ birthdays” you explain, dropping to the floor in front of the fire. Skin tingling at the drastic change of temperature, your cheeks still a little red from the bitter weather outside (though it may also have to do with the man sat before you)

Your brother was home for the holidays, along with Yoongi and his parents. It had become a tradition over the years that both families gathered for the winter break— they took “the more the merrier” very seriously. And it wasn’t all that surprising for one of your families to stay over the others’ until new year.

“Looks like you had fun” his tongue wets his lips, book long forgotten on the arm of the chair as his eyes flit down your body.

Your fingers run over your collarbone, his eyes lingering a little longer than proper.

“It’s just my friend, she gets a little touchy when drunk” you wave him off, lipstick stain smudging under your thumb as you rub at the skin, no real force behind the action.

“Touchy?” Yoongi laughs.

“Mhmm” you smile up him.

And Yoongi groans, head tipping back as he readjusts himself in his sweats.

“Baby, the things you do to me” he tilts his head, eyes meeting your own. “Always a little minx”

“What do I do to you?” you dare ask, fingers toying with the hem of your sweater.

“That’s a loaded question, darling” his smile is lazy, hips rolling languidly up into his palm; short lived relief enough for him to stay sat on the chair.

“I can handle it” you reassure him. That gentle smile that tempts him time and time again, that gentle smile that he wants to kiss off your lips until you’re moaning his name, any thought of another man off your mind until you’re wholly consumed by him; and him alone.

“Bad things” he groans, not missing the way your eyes flit down to his lips, fingers fiddling and he knows you’re trying your hardest not to look at his cock— straining heavily against the fabric of his underwear.

“How bad?” you whisper.

“Very bad. You make me wanna do bad things, darling” he pushes himself to the edge of the chair.

You stay rooted in your place, and Yoongi thinks you look pretty on your knees; maybe prettier if you were between his legs.

“What sort of bad things?” you prod.

“Like fucking you silly” he leans forwards.

He watches your thighs clench, eyes widening a little at how blunt he was.

“Oh?” he croons, “You like the sound of that?” he asks, slipping off the chair.

“Yes” you nod, still unsure in yourself as you let his hands graze over your neck; unsure what to do with your own.

His thumb brushes over the lipstick stain, “You know I hate other people touching you, doll” his fingers dig into the skin, your breath coming out alongside a shudder.

“I told her not to” you tell him, lips pouty. And Yoongi leans forwards to kiss it away, ever so gentle that you fall into him. Early trying to deepen the kiss as he pulls away, lips tugged into a ghost of a smile.

“Yeah?” he whispers against your lips, “Did you tell her you have a boyfriend? One that doesn’t like to share?”

Your eyes fall shut when he presses wet kisses along the length of your jaw, his hands slipping under your sweater; rough skin caressing your bare back.

You tug at his shirt, and Yoongi pulls away from your neck to let you pull it over his head. He follows suit, tugging your sweater off before his lips find your neck, teeth nipping over your collarbone.

A hand clamps over your mouth, moan muffled by Yoongi as he sucks on your skin. He pulls away with a wet pop, thumb running over his bottom lip as he eyes his work.

“You’re gonna have to keep quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone waking up now, so we?” he pulls his hand away from your mouth, “Okay?”

“I know” you whisper, suddenly aware of everyone sleeping upstairs.

“Good girl.”

You flop back onto the floor, hair sprawled out on the carpet as Yoongi braces his arms on either side of your head.

“Yoongi” you smile up at him.

“Yeah?” he leans down to press another kiss to your jaw.

“Need you” your hands fumble with the waistband of his sweats, knuckles brushing over his cock.

Yoongi groans, muffled as he shoves his face into your neck. Goosebumps prickle your skin as his warm breath brushes over your shoulder, your hips rolling upwards— desperate for any kind of friction, any sort of relief.

“Yeah?” he grunts, helping you pull your jeans off, panties soon to follow, and you don’t bother to look where he throws them.

“Please” you whine, hands taking a hold of his face as you bring him in for another kiss, the heat of the fire melting your lips, moulded into one, so close that you don’t know where you end and he starts.

You mouth falls open into a breathy moan when a teasing fingers runs over your slit, your hole clenching around nothing as he teases over your clit. Touch so gentle you could barely feel it, pleasure like thin stardust as it fizzles through your body.

Your hips roll upwards, tempting him to give the release you so crave. You both pull away finally, breathing heavy as your chests connect. Hearts in sync with one another— and truly, Yoongi knows you’re his. Knows that your hearts are wrapped with a think red string and that you’ll always fall back into his arms. His love, his reason to breathe, his soul melded with yours that he couldn’t begin to imagine another woman underneath him.

Your fingers tug at the clasp of your bra, fingers a little shaky as adrenaline pumps through your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind still aware that anyone could walk down those stairs any moment and see the two of you.

Your hands find their way to your tits, tugging at your nipples as they begin to pebble— as Yoongi works his way down your body, trail of kisses following him. Lips barely there, though they feel searing against your skin. Printed in invisible ink that you’ll trail your fingers over later when you’re alone; a secret message left for you from him.

He kisses over your mound, fingers parting your lips before he licks a long stripe up to your clit. Your hand flies over your mouth, chocked moan bubbling up your throat as he repeats the action.

“Yoongi” you whisper, one hand tangling in his hair as his lips close around your clit. Your thighs twitch when his teeth graze over the bundle of nerves, eyes squeezing shut as a lick of pleasure wracks over your body.

You feel a finger prod at your hole, teasing the entrance before he slowly dips into you. You bite down on the skin of your arm as his tongue flicks over your clit, finger curling, before he’s pulling it out.

You barely feel the stretch of a second finger as he plunges it into you, the lewd squelch of your sodden pussy drowned out by the crackling of the firewood.

Your back arches, Yoongi pulling you closer into his face by one of your thighs. You feel him gently tug at your clit with his teeth, fingers expertly curling up into you; the slow build of your orgasm rising within your stomach.

Your thighs begin to shake, clamping around Yoongi’s head as he pulls his fingers out of you. Instead, replacing them with his tongue while his slick-coated thumb flicks over your clit in tight little circles.

You bite down on the skin of your arm as you feel the pressure of your orgasm reach its peak, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask if you’re close— knowing you were seconds from tipping over the edge as your cunt dribbles slick over his chin.

Your thighs to continue to shake around his head as you reach your orgasm. Your hand falls over your mouth, hiccup of a moan hard to contain as Yoongi continues to flick your clit, helping you ride out your high as the white behind your eyelids seems to fizzle to black.

Yoongi watches you tremble when he brings his face away from your soaked cunt. And you dare look down at him, light of the fire catching the sheen of your cum on his lips and chin as he smiles up at you; his fingers continuing to toy with you clit.

“Too much” you try to squirm away, his arm laying heavy over your waist to keep you down.

You feel yourself fall into another orgasm, buzzing overstimulation on your clit pulling you into a less intense but just as pleasurable high that has tears prickling your eyes.

“Yoongi” you snivel, mouth falling open into a silent moan, Yoongi not letting up on your poor clit.

Another dribble of arousal is pushed out of your clenching pussy, walls pulsating around nothing as you squirm, toeing Yoongi away from you— and finally stopping his unrelenting thrumming on your swollen clit.

Your next breath comes out jittery, hand held over your cunt as Yoongi licks his lips.

“You’re mean” you whine up at him, clit still buzzing with pleasure as the soft skin of your palm brushes over it.

“Can’t help it, your pretty little pussy is too addictive” he drawls, hands running over your sides to try and quell the slight tremble.

“Think you can take my cock?” he asks, wary of how sensitive you’ll be.

“Yeah” you nod, hand trailing back up your body to tug at your nipples as Yoongi pulls his sweats down.

You watch his cock spring free, pearly pre-cum smeared on his lower stomach, wet slap making you cringe.

He leans down, hand tugging at his length as he presses another kiss to your lips, drinking in your moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses the corner of your mouth when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, cock slicked up with your arousal before he’s nudging the head against your entrance.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs against your skin, smiling when you hum.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and he angles the head of his cock right over you cunt before he’s pushing in. The head pops inside with little resistance, and Yoongi has to bite back a moan as your walls clench around the tip of his cock.

You pull him in further, your boyfriend pushing his hips forward slowly before gently pulling back. Slowly, agonisingly, feeding you each inch of him until he’s buried to the hilt.

You revel in the feeling of being so full, cunt sporadically clenching around his length as he starts to pull out; gentle drag of his cock against your walls enough to bring you to a third orgasm of the night.

It wouldn’t be hard to make you cum again, not when your pussy was so sensitive after two consecutive orgasms. And Yoongi is kind enough to leave your clit be as he starts up a pace he’s happy with. Hand covering your mouth as you start to moan, fingers gripping your jaw and he worried he’ll bruise you.

Yoongi’s hips snap forwards before he’s pulling back until only the tip of cock is nestled inside of you before he’s ramming back into you again.

You feel his balls slap against your ass, squeaky moans tumbling off your tongue like honey that he licks from between your lips as he bends you in half, knees pushed up next to your shoulders.

You can’t help the red that stains your cheeks when you hear how wet you are, each brutal thrust of Yoongi’s cock ramming into you followed by a wet squelch as your cunt weeps around him.

“I’m close” you manage to squeeze out, eyes falling shut as your mouth opens, only Yoongi is clamping his hand over it moments later when he can see the moan ready to drip off your lips.

You’re the image of pure sin underneath him, nails digging into his arms as his hips continue to slap against your ass, and it’s a wonder as to how no one seems to have woken up.

“Me too, baby. Together okay?” he grunts, hands grabbing onto any part of you he can hold.

“Inside” you whine, “Cum inside me please”

“Yeah?” he grunts, “Like the idea of me putting a baby into you huh?” his laugh is mean, “What would your parents say? What would they think when you tell them you’re pregnant?”

“Probably ask whose baby it is” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close enough for you to kiss over his jaw.

“Yeah? And whose fucking baby would it be?”

“Yours” you cry, body being pushed up the carpet with each harsh thrust, your arousal starting to dribble down Yoongi’s balls. Each wet slap of them against your ass a lewd reminder of how wet you truly were for this man. “I’d tell them it’s yours” you sob.

“Yeah you will”

His hips start to stutter, thrusts less calculated, sloppier and he reaches his high. You feel his cock twitch and Yoongi smashes his lips against your own, more teeth than tongue, when his fingers find their way back to your clit; a cry being ripped from your throat at the harsh press of a finger against your swollen bud.

Your body trembles, Yoongi pushing his cock as far into you as he can before he’s cumming. Thick cum painting your walls white as he holds you close.

You shake through your own orgasm, tugging his hand away from your clit when you feel the overstimulation become painful, thighs shaking in the aftershock of it all.

Yoongi barely pulls out before he’s thrusting back into you, a foamy ring of white surrounding the base of his cock as he gently rocks into you.

You don’t bother telling him to stop, each electric thrum of overstimulating pleasure of his cock dragging against your walls too delicious to let up on.

Yoongi feels your walls rhythmically clenching around his slowly softening cock; and he’s gentle as he pulls the both of you to sit up— making sure he was still nestled deep inside of you as his hands run over your back.

Both of your skin shine in a sheen of sweat, bodies sticky as you flop into his chest. Your toes burning as they get to close to the fire.

“When are we gonna tell them?” you whisper, breath tickling Yoongi’s bare chest when you yawn.

“Whenever you’re ready sweetheart” his fingers run through your hair, catching in a knot and you wince at the pain. Though he feels you clench at it, he chooses not to comment. That was a discussion for another day.

For now he needed to get the both of you cleaned up, and you into bed before someone wandered downstairs wondering what all the noise was. Though he thinks that can wait a while, more than happy with you flopped against his chest while his cock stay impaled into your cunt; cum filled and swollen. Nothing a few kisses can’t fix and maybe his tongue in the shower.

“Maybe new year” you shrug, “I’m sorry about my friend kissing me” you peer up at him through his lashes.

He simply hums, “Just don’t let it happen again, fucking hate how touchy all your friends are” he grunts, “You’re mine, y’know?”

“I know” you giggle, wincing a little when you jostle his cock inside of you, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in apology.

And you let him off this one time, his smile too bright for you to even dare tease him about it when the atmosphere was so cozy.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi au #bts fic #bts x reader #bts requests #bts pwp #bts suga

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

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Here is my entry for the Spicy Six Winter Fic Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair (thanks so much to you and @unclewaynemunson for the awesome events this month!) My prompt was “kiss in the snow”.

Eddie is ladling a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon, and mashed sweet potatoes into a baking dish when the phone rings. He nearly drops the bowl, hastily wiping the sticky orange mixture off his fingers before answering.

“Munson’s House of Holiday Horrors, Eddie speaking,” he intones cheerfully. Steve snorts with laughter on the other end of the line.

“What if it hadn’t been me calling?”

“It’s Christmas Eve Stevie, and everyone we know is out of town. Who else would be calling?” He knows the exact expression that will be on Steve’s face right now. He’ll be trying not to smile, which will twist his lips into a crooked little smirk instead. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite expressions. “How was work today?”

“Awful. Remind me never to agree to a holiday shift again. The Christmas movies were out of stock by 9, so I’ve had people screaming at me all day. Like I’m personally responsible for the fact that they waited till the last minute to try and rent the Grinch that Stole Christmas.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums sympathetically. “Poor baby. What time are you coming over?”

“The pie needs to cool another 30 minutes, then I’m leaving.”

They’d argued about the pie for days. Eddie insisted that he had enough dishes planned to feed a small army, while Steve insisted that he just had to bring a pecan pie (which, coincidentally, is Wayne’s favorite).

“You know – you don’t have to work so hard to impress him. Wayne already likes you.”

“Shut up,” Steve says. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

“See ya.”

They’re not quite to the point of exchanging I love you’s yet, even though it sits on the edge of his tongue every time they say goodbye.

Eddie hangs up the phone and turns to survey the chaos strewn across the kitchen. He’s got half an hour – 45 minutes with driving time. The sweet potato casserole has to be baked, and he still needs to finish two more dishes after that.

“Shit,” he mutters.

***

When Wayne ventures into the kitchen twenty minutes later to check on him, Eddie is frantically stirring sour cream and shredded cheese into the mashed potatoes.

“Christ almighty it’s hot in here. You’re sweatin’ like a hog.”

Eddie scowls and swipes at the hair sticking to his forehead. “Thanks Uncle Wayne.”

Unfortunately, his uncle’s not wrong. The kitchen is sweltering – not surprising, considering the stove and oven have been going all day – and Eddie’s shirt is soaked through. He desperately needs a shower, but he’s running way behind.

“Alright… what can I do to help?”

Eddie pauses long enough to fix his uncle with a skeptical look. “Are you forgetting the famous incident of the frozen turkey? Your cooking privileges have been permanently revoked.”

Wayne looks unimpressed. “Don’t you sass me. I can pull a goddamn casserole out of the oven.”

Eddie snickers and allows himself to be chased out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let that casserole burn!”

He takes the stairs up two at a time. It’s still a novelty, living in a house with a second floor – even after half a year. The water pressure is pretty awesome too, although he doesn’t take the time to enjoy it today. He rushes through a lukewarm shower, just enough to cool down and rinse the sweat off; throwing a clean shirt on when he gets out.

With hair still dripping, he thunders back down the stairs in time to see Wayne pull the casserole out, marshmallows browned to a perfect crust on top. His uncle watches in bemusement as Eddie covers the dish with aluminum foil and then hastens to dump frozen rolls onto a pan.

“What time is Steve supposed to get here?” Wayne asks.

Eddie doesn’t even dare look at the clock. “Any minute,” he says distractedly. He adjusts the oven temperature and shoves the pan in. He had a checklist, which is buried somewhere in the pile of used dishes and discarded packaging on the counter. He starts searching for it, shoving things aside in frustration, until he feels his uncle’s hands land heavy on his shoulders.

“Calm down, okay? Everything looks amazing. You’ve done a real good job Ed.”

The old man’s expression is unbearably soft when he turns around. Wayne looks at him like that all the time these days – ever since March, and that tense week in the hospital, when they weren’t sure if infection would finish the job the demobats had started.

It makes Eddie feel warm and awkward at the same time. He darts forward for a quick hug, pressing his face into the smoky flannel of his uncle’s shoulder, before stepping back and shoving the old man toward the door.

“Go on. Let me know when Steve gets here. And turn on the lights!”

***

Eddie loses track of time as he scrambles to finish – last minute tasks keep popping up every time he turns around. When he’s finally ready to call it done, he heads for the living room, expecting to find Steve and Wayne watching something on tv while they wait.

But it’s six o’clock, and there’s no sign of Steve. Wayne is standing against the big picture window, curtains shoved aside so he can look out.

“Hate to break it to ya Ed, but I’m not sure your boy is gonna make it. Snow’s really coming down out there.”

Eddie takes his uncle's place against the window, pressing his nose against the cold glass as he cups his hands to shield the glare. It's dark out, and the only thing illuminated by the porch light is a swirling wall of snowflakes. Judging by the snow already piled on the railing, it's collecting thick and fast.

"Shit," he mutters.

Concern immediately churns his stomach. If Steve left the house when he planned to, he should have arrived over half an hour ago.

Eddie goes to the phone on the end table by Wayne’s recliner, dialing the familiar number, hoping Steve decided to wait out the weather. The Christmas tree twinkles merrily in the corner; red, green, blue, and yellow lights reflecting off the silver tinsel while Eddie listens to the phone ring and ring - until the click of the answering machine picks up.

He hits the switch hook to end the call, re-dialing immediately. Ring, ring, ring and the click of the answering machine again.

He stays on the line long enough to hear the recorded voice of Steve’s father announce: “You’ve reached the Harrington residence. Leave a name, number, and brief message…” Eddie hangs up again with a frustrated growl.

Wayne watches with a worried frown. “You don’t think he would try to drive in this mess, do you? Not in that fancy car of his.”

Only someone who didn’t know Steve very well would ask that question. If Robin or Dustin were here, they’d already be suiting up for a search party.

Apparently, the expression on Eddie’s face is answer enough, because Wayne’s lips press into a thin line before he nods. “Right then. We’ll put the snow chains on the truck – as long as you go slow, you should be okay.”

They throw on coats and boots and a hat for Wayne, before trooping out into the whirling snow. Working in tandem, it only takes a few minutes to get the chains wrapped around the front tires of Wayne’s truck, latched and tensioned tight.

They agree that Wayne should stay behind in case Steve ends up calling after all, and then Eddie is off, pulling slowly down the drive.

The little house (part of a generous government settlement in exchange for their silence) is on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and cornfields – and no neighbors for at least ten miles. Which means the only light comes from the feeble beam of the truck’s headlights, struggling to penetrate the wall of snow. It’s like driving into a tunnel.

Eddie holds his foot tense above the gas pedal, giving it just enough juice to keep the old truck bumping along at a snail’s pace, listening to the chained tires grip and grind over the snow.

I never said ,‘I love you’, he thinks. I never said it. Steve could be dead or dying somewhere along the road, and the last thing Eddie ever said to him was, “See ya.”

It’s unbearable.

After a nerve-wracking 15 minutes, scanning and straining his eyes nearly to tears – Eddie finally spots a faint shape in the distance. Just the silhouette of a person, no car in sight.

It’s Steve. It’s gotta be.

He slams on the brakes – too hard. Even with the chains on, the old truck slides a few terrifying feet farther than intended. Heart pounding, Eddie throws it into park and wrenches the door open.

He hits the ground ready to run and nearly busts his ass as he sinks into snow over his ankles; staggering like a drunk toward the huddled figure of his boyfriend.

Eddie grips the other boy by the shoulders, eyes raking over him head to toe, searching for injuries. It’s hard to see – the headlights cast everything in sharp relief, full of shadow.

“Shit Steve… are you okay? I was so fucking worried, Jesus Christ.”

Steve pats his chest and laughs through the audible chattering of his teeth. “I’m f-fine Ed, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“What happened?”

“Deer ran out in front of me. T-tried to miss it and the Beemer spun off the road. Car’s fine, but it’s stuck in a ditch.”

Eddie huffs out a relieved laugh and squeezes his boyfriend tight. Just stuck in a ditch – thank god. They’re so lucky the accident wasn’t serious; and lucky that Eddie came looking before Steve froze to death trying to make the long, cold walk to the house.

He pulls back to gaze into those beloved brown eyes, brushing aside a swoop of hair stiff with ice.

“I love you,” Eddie says abruptly. His breath hangs like dragon-smoke between them. It’s not how he intended this moment to go, but he can’t keep it in any longer. “I was afraid to say it, but then… when I thought something might have happened to you, all I could I think was that I never told you how I felt.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I love you too.”

He laughs, giddy with relief, and cradles Steve’s jaw as he leans into a kiss. The world falls away - there’s nothing but Steve’s slightly chapped lips, warming slowly against his own, and the soft whisper of the snowflakes.

It’s perfect - until Steve shifts awkwardly and winces in pain.

“What the hell Steve, I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

Steve grins sheepishly and leans against Eddie, trying to take the weight off his left leg. “I said the car was fine. I twisted my knee trying to climb out of that damn ditch.”

“Goddamnit… is there anything else I should know?”

His boyfriend unzips his jacket, revealing a towel-wrapped disc tucked securely against his chest. “I saved the pie,” he says proudly.

“Jesus Christ.” Overwhelmed by affection, Eddie kisses Steve again; it’s either that or shake the mad bastard. “Come on… let’s get you and your stupid pie home before you both freeze.”

#lexswinterficchallenge #strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic #this was originally supposed to be a lot longer and more involved #but I wrote and scrapped like four different versions #and ended up with this #snuck in some art to make up for it

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year

Text

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me (platonic)

Prologue,

Tagged: @the-dumber-scaramouche (asked to be tagged and I shall do so for the next parts)

Gonna do a chapter for each round of Ragnarok

Within an arena that touches the clouds

Ancient stone’s that laid untouched for centuries and stood strong against the tests of time

Lays the new battleground that shall determine humanity’s fate

And in it is also you

There’s still at least a month of preparation and training before the events actually start but despite that it’s filled with hustle and bustle

Gods and humans fill the halls

Some of who you even recognize and give you happy waves and pull you aside for saying hi

It’s surprisingly nice despite the circumstances

It’s been so long that people of all kind had been gathered to such an occasion

But as minutes ticked on

And you got some of your favourite snacks due to the large concession stands with various amounts of food from various places

You end up heading deeper into the building

It thins out and you end up at the area for the human fighters

And then you open up the door to the lounge area where you see the faces of several people you recognize

And a few you hadn’t had the pleasure of yet meeting until this point

“Hello everyone, some of you may recognize me and some I haven’t yet met. I’ve gone by many names but just call me y/n”

Of the few you didn’t initially recognize in the man with shirt golden hair

Oh and no clothes with only a leaf covering his di-

Unlike the others you weren’t really shaken by his lack of clothes

During your long life you’d seen much of the human body

Your desensitized to it so you go up and give the man a hardy handshake and he does so back

Turns out he’s Adam

The first human

Father to the entirety of the human race as you knew it

Adam in all ways encompasses what you believe are humanity’s strong suits

He is kind and compassionate

Along with determined to protect not only his people but also his family

Your upfront with not being a human and being created by a god but Adam doesn’t see you any differently

Your like him and Eve

Created by the gods themselves

The only difference is that your creator cared

You didn’t notice it at first but he slowly finds himself caring for you as if you were is own child

A sentiment that had surprisingly has only happened till now

Despite your thousands of years of living this is the first time you’ve been adopted

Like there was one time you were training with Lü Bu and got injured

You were in the process of healing it before he stopped the fight and pulled you aside to check if you were ok

He seemingly forgot you can’t really die and had panicked thinking the wound would kill you

Even started getting out the gauze and glaring at the laughing general before you explained you were alright

He isn’t embarrassed though

Even keeps wrapping the wound just in case

It feels nice to be cared for in such a way

You love your father Hephaestus very much but it’s also nice having another father figure in your life

Both treat you in a caring and gentle way

As if you were glass or some ancient artifact

(Technically you were one and so was he)

Adam also introduces you to his Wife and Sons who welcome you to their small but loving family

Eve is affectionate and loving

Always showering you with praise as you show off your abilities or knowledge

She makes sure your well fed despite not needing food

And she can’t help but pinch your cheeks

As the only mother figure in your long life she takes it in pride

Oftentimes dragging you away from training to smother you in care and compliment about how your such a brave soul

Despite replying you don’t have one she disagrees

Saying that in her mind you don’t need one to have one (if that makes any sense)

You’d rather not admit it but you melt at her affection

She’s in every sense of the word warm

It reminds you of those cold winters night where you’d end up by the fire

Or a nice summer’s breeze

Adam seems to find the sight funny since your a immortal being

One who’s walked the earth for more years than people can imagine and yet his wife was reduce you to figurative mush when she pays your head and calls you a nickname

Someone that has seen both the good and bad of humanity time and time again

That is now helping her bake a pie as his sons argue about what was a better nickname for you

It’s odd to people looking in but makes sense to everyone in this small bubble

Cain and Abel are rambunctious but loveable brothers

They like to cheer you on and playfully fight with you

One or the other usually has an arm wrapped around your shoulder as they laugh at some joke the other made

The two have a lot of petty squabbles that you now end up being in the middle of

It’s fun

Especially since most conflict in your time has always resulted in heavy bloodshed

Whilst theirs is light hearted and leads to one proclaiming victory as the other sulks in the corner

Both love hearing your stories

Even more so about how the world has evolved so drastically

It’s fascinating to them both especially as so many places developed their own cultures that are so different from the others

As the arena begins to fill and time ticks down for the event to start the three of you end up buying shit tons of food

All of which are from different times periods and places for them to try

It ends up becoming a fun game for them as they guess the Irgun of which country the snack came from

Which leads to you then explaining its history

Neither would admit it but both had glared at quite a few people when they stared at you with a certain gaze

It happens enough times that both kinda now go on figurative guard duty when walking about with you

Admittedly they know you can definitely handle yourself

But your now their big sibling

And that means no creep is gonna be messing with you

Especially since you seem to attract quite a few weirdo’s due to your ageless beauty that leaves you stuck looking at least 25

You definitely pull the “older sibling card” a lot on their asses

Which makes both their father and mother laugh

They are the complete family you never had

Full of warmth and laughter as Adam looks on with a proud smile

Though Adam hates the gods he finds Hephaestus to be an exception once he does meet the man

For your father is cordial and kind to both him, his family, you and the other fighters

As you, Cain, Abel and Eve cook dinner he pulls the god aside

And both talk as they look upon the sight of Abel and Cain having a playful battle as you laugh with Eve

It makes the god tear up a bit

Happy that the man had given you what he couldn’t provide you with

Adam in return thanks Hephaestus for creating such a wonderful person and caring for humanity

And Hephaestus thanks Adam for giving you the full family he couldn’t provide

It’s something odd to say the least especially as Adam can’t help but give him a handshake and invite him to stay for dinner

Your father agrees, sitting down beside you at the dinner table as Eve pulls out his seat for him with a kind smile

Cain and Abel immediately begin asking the forging god questions making him laugh at their enthusiasm

They make him feel welcome

At home

Who knew that away from his lonesome forge would he find a place that accepted him

Humanity’s first humans to be even more ironic

Adam offers the god an apple which appears from the sky and he accepts it

Soon laughing as he bites into its flesh saying that it’s a bit bitter for his taste

Lü Bu had been a figure you had heard about but had actually never had the chance to meet

So it’s safe to say your rather excited

And he doesn’t let you down in any shape, way or form

He’s battle hungry just like a certain Norse deity who you luckily hadn’t run into yet

He makes for a good training partner

Especially since he pushes you to your limits and has you focus on your main strength without relying on your powers

It often leads to many cuts and bruises but a sense of accomplishment filling you

Something that hadn’t happened in a long time

And you suspect it hadn’t happened to him either from the barbaric smirk that stretches across his face

100% the dude who breaks down your door at 3 am to ask you about stuff you’ve seen or experienced

You don’t really sleep so you don’t mind but you are concerned for poor Cheng who was dragged along half asleep

He finds your stories of war fascinating especially at the mention of things like guns and cannons

You feel as if compared to the rest he doesn’t care about how things had advanced

If it isn’t weapon related

It’s odd to you that he’s purely driven by battle

But you aren’t the one to judge so you stick to what he likes

Some part of you keeps your friendship with him at a relative distance

Partially due to your experience with befriending men like him

Those who are hungry like him are always unsatisfied

It leads them to more and more bloodshed

And though your are no innocent person you don’t like battle that includes bystanders

His army on the other hand are some that you befriend

Cheng especially since despite being a solider he is a man of good heart and honour

How the young man found himself in Lü Bu’s army

Unlike his superior he finds your stories of the future fascinating

Especially as the world leads to more peaceful times

You drink with him and the other soldiers and sing songs with them that had long been forgotten

Kojiro is actually someone you’d only met once but it’s certainly a sight to see him again

Despite how everyone else appears as younger versions of themselves he’s old and grey

A sight of which makes you giggle a bit as you greet him once again

Despite meeting him once you both greet each other like old friends

Which others look your ways confused especially as you both explain that he asked for a battle and you royally kicked him ass

You both can remember it like yesterday

A lone mountainside road on a mid autumn’s day

A breeze making the veil trailing you flutter in the wind as you ready a weapon against him who smiles

Knowing he’ll lose but elated anyways

And when he fell against the ground with a few seconds of challenging you he laughs with that of pure joy

You both went your separate ways afterwards and now reunited

Like that day oh so long ago the two of you train often

Helping him brush up on his skills and get better as he sees how much you’d experienced since then

All these battle leave you and him winded but smiling

Laughter filling the training ground as the two of you sit down and have some tea

Adam patching up the old swordsman as you share stories to distract him

Fresh brewed tea being sipped as techniques of how he could improve are shared

Most would find this somewhat demeaning but he just smiles

Saying how he’ll take it to mind next time or chuckling as he says “I knew I should’ve used a better stance”

He ends up hanging around the other Japanese contestants quite a bit

Partially due to the shared culture but also since he can better recognize their fighting

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t mingle outside them

Qin shi Huang is someone he ends up befriending along with Adam and Simo

He enjoys modern day snacks and foods but holds a soft spot for spicy foods

Which leads to you and him having competitions as Eve makes some extra spicy foods for the two of you to gobble down

He won’t admit it but he finds it nice that you remembered him of all people

You’d met so many amazing and interesting people in your life yet you greet him like a friend despite meeting once

Despite him being the best known loser in history (a title in which you argue with him over)

Out of most of them your actually quite happy to introduce him to you father who he regards with respect

The grey haired man greeting the ash tinged and ember trailing man who created you

Both eat sweets with bean paste and talk as you leave them to their own

Much like mythology and history both are looked down upon and both have taken different ways to deal with it

You now find the older appearing man conversing with your father or getting him some food he’d thought he’d like

It’s sweet

The moment you introduced yourself to the newcomers and walked through that door Qin shi Huang is basically throwing himself at you

Your welcome your old friend with open arms

Letting him swing you around in joy as the former emperor and you laugh in joy

His eyes traveling down to the bracelet still tethered to your wrist, as beautiful as the day he gifted it

Throughout the entire tournament and it’s wait time your old friend sticks with you

Much like his time alive he is boisterous and prideful but his company was one that you had missed for many millennia

Through you he learns of what happened to his empire

How it continued on into a nation that still lasts even today as other crumbled

How his army of terracotta soldiers still stand to guard him in death and the wall despite its age has yet to fall

Now a wonder and landmark that many travel just to see and walk along its path

He learns of its misdoings as well but he knows many were made by his influence

By his decisions of bloodshed that still seems to stain the remnants of his aged empire

The emperor also learns of your travels since his death

How you sailed the 7 seas and ran your own ship, climbed the highest mountain in the world and stood at its top, swam to the deepest depths of the ocean where light had never touched its sandy floor and ventured through the harsh jungle terrain into unknown territory

It’s honestly Aw inspiring to him how much you’d done

Sure you had done these feats over a thousand or so years giver or take (along with nothing being able to kill you)

But it’s still amazing to him how much you’d seen

How much you could do within the span of eternity

But with that comes the realization that eventually you’d run out of things to do

But he brushes the though aside as the two of you engage in a feast with him and the other emperors that came after him

You sit the closest at his side and the others stretched along a long table filled with foods ranging from his time to later on

Sometimes for fun the two of you wear your clothes from when he was still alive

You wear your old robes as does he

And the the two of you prance around the coliseum as he points at something and has you “explain!”

The two of you always end up laughing until crying by the end of the day

He’s basically attached at your hip but you don’t mind at all

You’ve missed him for so long

Dinners with Adam’s family end up frequently with Qin joining as well

He ends up getting along well with Cain and Abel

The three of them joking as Eve and Adam place down a fresh meal

His whole “I’m emperor” thing can sometimes get on people’s nerves so you sometimes have to end up being a middle man

He does it partially to piss people off and cause he thinks it’s fun

It kinda is

Until he wants to pull that shit on the gods and you have to drag his ass away from their area of the arena

His is basically jumping for joy when Chun Yun gets to finally meet you

For a long time you’d only ever hear stories of the fiery woman so meeting her is actually really intriguing

Especially since she jokes that you must’ve had your hands full with dealing with him for years

That in turn makes him whine as she gives you a handshake that return wholeheartedly

She’s his only other impulse control other than you and by god does he need it

Unlike you though she’ll chew him out for doing something stupid, you call it a mom thing

When you talk with her in private she tells about how she raised him

And how she’s glad he met someone like you who became a true friend to him

Something he always needed

In return you thank her for making sure he made to actually survive

your father definitely meets the two of them at some point with how close they are to you

He’s pleasantly surprised with how the two greet him with normality

There’s respect but no formality that he got from Kojiro that would eventually fade as the two got closer

It’s just off the start they treat him as if he were a normal person

He appreciates it along with the fact they don’t stare at his deformities

Nor do they think of him lesser because of them

In fact it seems they think of him higher because of them which initially confuses him

So when he asks about it both the emperor and his past body guard explain where Qin grew up

How on the streets of a place now long changed many people were born had later gained disabilities and survived anyways through their strength and determination

Qin always respected them despite the fact they still hated him

Perhaps because just like him they persevered despite how others wanted to push them down

In many ways the two bond over the fact they were (and in some ways still are) considered useless

How they were repeatedly kicked down over and over yet got us just to spite them all

Hephaestus finds Qin to be fucking hilarious and the two find themselves cackling over stupid shit your father would make

Chun Yan also gets close to your dad as does her child whom spends his time playing with the toys your father makes for the young lad

It’s fun especially for Hephaestus as he makes small little wind up gadgets and toys

Qin now gives your dad ideas that somehow turn out really well which is funny to see

Especially as his ideas are “you know what would be cool?, a giant flying lamp for moths to follow” and Hephaestus is like “bet”

When seeing Jack again the English gentleman offers you a polite wave as Qin excitedly hugs you

It’s later on that he comes to you and the two of you share a nice time alone

Unlike the others Jack is nocturnal partially due to his uh…hobby so he spends the midnight and early hours with you

It’s was during those times you’d always felt lonely so you enjoy the company

He makes some tea and you both end up talking for hours

Topics ranging from the competition to what you did after he died

What you’ve seen

Who’ve you met

It’s all good fun especially as you explain your “wild days” in the 70’s or 80’s when you’d met and toured with some popular bands and singers

Sometime he talks of what his afterlife was like

It intrigues you a log since you can’t exactly experience death

The one place you’d never get to explore

A place where everything was eventually supposed to end up at yet you were the exception

Even gods could die yet you couldn’t

You remain like a stubborn sore

Out of the human fighters your kinda the only person who talks to him

Everyone else kinda gets creepy vibes from him

And it only gets worse when they find out he’s a killer

He also plays into that imagine as well so…yeah your the only person not fucking terrified of him

He doesn’t mind though

Quality over quantity as they say

May or may not watch Shakespeare movies with you

He hates the 90’s Romeo and Juliet film with decaprio

Doesn’t make it better when you mention the fact the actor dates girls who could potentially be their father age wise

It reminds him too much of the grimy old men who would prey on young and impressionable girls

Something you have to sadly explain still happens much to his displeasure

One thing he does enjoy though is how accessible stuff like imported foods and goods are

He now has the chance to try the various tea’s and treats from other countries that used to be fairly expensive

What makes it even more fun is that you usually have some fun story to go along with said treat

Probably ends up enjoying stuff like phantom of the opera and silence of the lambs

But to be honest he has a soft spot for stuff like low budget horror films

Just the low quality gore and bad acting makes him chuckle

Especially as you tell him the “rules” of a horror film

The two of you now make a small tradition as the days tick down for the tournament to start by watching a film a night

Your father finds Jack to be an odd fellow but one who engages in interesting conversation

Someone who was also looked down on in life

Hephaestus knows he isn’t the best person

He’s made mistakes

Been complicit in his brethren’s bloodshed of the humans he had come to love

So in some sense finding someone who is also not a good person but in some sense tries to do some good is therapeutic to him

That he is equally flawed inwardly just as humans are

Cause unlike other gods he had come to realize how both are more alike than they are different

“Gods?, I don’t exactly like many of them. But perhaps meeting them in person could shape my view”

Loki is one god whom seems to find you by complete accident yet seems to find amusement in trying to fool you

It doesn’t work

And that leads to him trying harder and thus not leaving you alone

You swear that he sticks to you like fucking super glue

Doesn’t help that he keeps nagging about how the gods are better

Your a feeble human

Blah blah blah

Your soooo ready to defeat a gif in battle just to see his expression

And how he had be intentionally annoying someone who could easily deck him across the world with a simple slap

Though despite that he is somewhat fun company

Despite how annoying he can be he also gives you ample opportunity to see the view of the other side

And it leads to discussion between the two of you as you move a chess piece across a board

Your knight taking one of his pawns as he makes an annoyed scowl

He makes a comment about having the power to take you out with a snap of his fingers

But you remind him that he won’t

And that makes him grumble as he makes his next move

It’s odd…but you come to enjoy his company just as you do with others

Perhaps at some point he began enjoying yours since he invites (more like drags) you to the god portion of the arena

Into his current room as he bitches about Odin and nephew Thor

The mention of which makes you hold down an amused chuckle

His room has a lot of snake imagery

Along with snacks as he sits down on a chair and rips open a bag of chips

Continuing on his argument about how Thor is such a sour puss and that if he has to deal with odins ravens again he’s gonna-

He pauses when he hears you laugh

for once he goes silent

You ask what’s wrong and he replies that he’d never heard you laugh before

Let alone seem amused by him

You simply reply that you wouldn’t hang out with him if you didn’t enjoy his presence

No matter how annoying he could be when breaking down your door at random times

You think that you may have fried his brain from saying you voluntarily wanted to be around him

Perhaps he feels as if people put up with him rather than enjoy his jokes and jabs

You can’t help but notice that insults towards you have steadily stopped after that

You swear Thor saw you once and then he’s on you like a bloodhound

Brunhilde had to help you after you were hiding from the red head via hanging onto a chandelier hoping he wouldn’t look up

And now that he knows your seemingly “revived” for the competition he’s hunting you down

He wants to fight you again

To feel that rush of finally having a good battle

He now looks for you in the crowds of humans and gods

Looking anywhere for your signature hat and trailing veil

Not knowing your hanging out with Loki who has a room beside him

He swears to his father that he’s gonna get that fucking battle with you

His fathers crows tease him about this

How set he is in fighting some random human he met centuries ago

But he doesn’t let up

You spend a majority of the waiting time for the tournament sneakily slinking through the halls of the colosseum

Trying to get to the human only training area where he would not be permitted into

You don’t think that would really stop him but you know for a fact Brunhilde would be pissed if he did so

Is gonna be reallly mad to find out that he ain’t the one fighting you

The time for battle now approaches and the first fight is soon to begin

Near Brunhilde and Göll you sit in their shadow covered private area for watching

Looking out onto the crowds of people who cheer

#platonic #ror x reader #records of ragnarok x reader #ror thor x reader #ror loki x reader #ror jack the ripper x reader #ror qin shi huang x reader #ror adam x reader #ror lu bu x reader #ror Kojiro x reader

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life-at-hogwarts · 3 months

Text

So cold (House of Gaunt)

Pairing: Ominis x GN!reader

Warnings: just a bit of fluff and drama

Wordcount: 1.3k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The first snow was always something special at Hogwarts. It turned the castle into something straight out of a fairy tale. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself when you heard the satisfying noise of fresh snow under your feet when you crossed the courtyard. Not that you particularly liked the winter but even you had to admit that the first snow had something magical. You were on your way to meet Sebastian and Ominis in the library to study together for the oncoming exams but since you were early you decided to take your time and took the longer way through the courtyard to catch a glimpse of the spectacle.

Suddenly something cold hit your temple and you quickly turned around to look for the culprit, expecting it to be Sebastian who was always up for some sort of mischief. Instead, you discovered Ominis, now innocently waving at you from across the courtyard. Before you had time to process what had happened you were hit again, this time right in the face. “Just you wait you little…,” you growled and quickly grabbed a handful of snow, throwing it in his direction. Ominis however caught the snowball midair with his wand and sent it right back to you, landing another hit. Sometimes you forgot that Ominis, although blind, was one of the most powerful wizards at Hogwarts. He was the heir of Slytherin after all and according to Sebastian he was an excellent duelist who had humbled the cheeky brunette a number of times.

You decided to go for a different tactic and sprinted over to him tackling him to the ground. He let out a surprised grunt when he found himself laying in the snow, unable to get up because there was someone on top of him. Satisfied with yourself you gave him a quick kiss on the top of his nose, then scrambled to get up before someone could ask what you were doing.

“You know, I was trying to be sweet,” Ominis grumbled while he brushed the snow off his robes.

“What can I say? I like to play rough,” you giggled and gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Are alright though?”

“I will be once I get my hug,” he said innocently, yet when you obliged and wrapped your arms around him, he quickly took the chance to stuff a handful of snow down your shirt. You squealed when it melted and trickled down your back and Ominis laughed mischievously.

“Oh, you are so going to pay for that!”

A few minutes later both of you were soaking wet and out of breath after chasing each other around the courtyard, giggling like children. The light snowfall was slowly turning into a blizzard, and you started to shiver in the biting wind.

“Let’s get you inside, you’re freezing,” Ominis declared and offered you his hand. You took it and wanted to head towards the library when Ominis held you back. “Let’s go to the common room. We can warm ourselves at the fireplace.” A tempting offer you had to admit.

“What about Sebastian? He’s waiting for us in the library,” you reminded him.

“I’ll send him an owl.”

The Slytherin common room was empty. Most students had gone to the Quidditch match that was taking place that afternoon. You shook your head at this – you couldn’t share their enthusiasm for sitting in the freezing cold watching people on broomsticks throw around balls. Luckily Ominis and Sebastian shared your sentiment on Quidditch, and you could therefore avoid going to the games altogether. With everyone gone you quickly made your way to the fireplace and warmed your hands by the fire while Ominis sat down on the sofa, kicked off his shoes and curled up in a worn knit blanket. You spent a few more minutes enjoying the welcoming heat of the fire before you joined him and snuggled up to him. When he wrapped the blanket around both of you and pulled you closer you sighed contently and buried your face in his chest. Neither of you spoke for a while, and you listened to the gentle cackle of the fire and Ominis deepening breaths and concentrated on the feeling of his chest slowly lifting and lowering. His long, elegant fingers began stroking your hair and tracing your features and it felt like time stood still. Being with Ominis always felt like you were the only two people in this world, as if the universe froze to watch, in awe of two souls dancing to the tune of love. And just for a moment it was perfect.

------------------------

When you were called to the headmaster’s office you immediately knew what it was about.

It was no secret that the Gaunts and headmaster Black were close. No doubt Marvolo had told on you. Yet nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting for you when you entered the office. Erebus Gaunt. Ominis father turned around when he heard you enter, his dark stare fixated on you. Headmaster Black gestured you to come closer. “You know why you’re here I presume?” he asked you solemnly. You held his gaze and nodded slowly. “Marvolo’s father asked to have a word with you. I will leave you alone so you can talk.” Please don’t leave me alone with him, you wanted to say but you know it was no use. You tried your best to keep your composure when Erebus sat down opposite you in the headmasters’ chair. “You assaulted my son.”

“He was being a foul-mouthed little brat,” you shot back but Erebus didn’t react.

“I know very well what this was about. In fact, that is why I’m here. You and I are going to have a little talk,” he declared calmly, yet there was something in his voice that sent shivers down your spine. Even when he was calm, Erebus seemed like a predator ready to pounce.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, but we do. Sit. Down.” Reluctantly you obeyed and slowly sat down on the chair opposite the head of the Gaunt family, avoiding his piercing stare. You could understand why Ominis always seemed to shrink when he was in a room with his family but forced yourself to sit upright, mirroring Erebus body language. It was clear that he was used to being in charge. He leaned back, observing your every move, not saying anything, seemingly waiting for you to pull back. It took all your willpower to remain expressionless in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

“I know that you are involved with Ominis. I should have guessed as much last time. Of course, he had to pick someone from an impure bloodline. To aggravate me no doubt,” Erebus broke the silence, his voice dripping with disgust.

“I can assure you our relationship has nothing to do with you,” you replied coolly.

“Shut your mouth, half-blood. I didn’t recall giving you permission to speak. You will leave my son today.”

“I have no intention of doing that.”

Another uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Then Erebus leaned in, so close you could see your own reflection in his dark eyes, and you instinctively backed away from him. “This was not a request. Fail to do as I say, and I will see to it that he suffers. He will never see Hogwarts or his friends ever again. I have allowed his nonsense long enough.”

Trying to regain your composure you straightened your back and coldly replied, “He doesn’t even live with you anymore. You have no power over him.”

Erebus eyes darkened. No one had ever talked back to him like that. Losing his patience he spat, “Don’t forget who I am, little brat. I have connections everywhere. One word and he will be in an asylum for the rest of his life, no questions asked.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your own son.”

A wicked smile formed on Erebus lips. “It’s your choice.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #hogwarts legacy sebastian #slytherin #sebinis #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanart #hp fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #house of gaunt #marvolo gaunt #slytherin boys #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #gaunt #ominis

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ch3rryfunk · 1 year

Note

HEYYY I'm pretty new to reaching out to accounts but so far everyone has been an absolute gem! I've thought about posting my small stories that have gathered dust in my notes but also never really got the courage to ACTUALLY posting them ☠️

THAT ASIDE, what are some of your Leon headcanons? It could be the most random things like how I think he hates chewing sounds or probably doesn't know how to tie a tie.

Hope that makes sense-

Hi!! 💖 Thanks for reaching out!! You should definitely post them, I bet they’re really good :•) but i totally get what you mean, just take your time!!

☆*:.｡.

Random Leon S Kennedy head cannons.

Life & Hobbies

☆ He doesn’t know how to cook. I think that’s something we can all agree on but yeah, he knows how to make simple things but not too elaborate. He just never had time for cooking, so why bother learning?

☆ He actually loves dogs, despite having seen the scariest, most dangerous undead dogs in almost every mission he’s had.

☆ Leon CAN’T drive. He never learned about driver’s ed. He only got his license because it was required to get into the cop academy. He just gets into a vehicle, says a prayer, and off he goes.

☆ He likes Jeeps and bikes though!

☆ Enjoys reading books in his spare time.

☆ loves listening to music but can’t keep up with the newer artists, so he mainly listens to alternative 90s music or grungier songs. (He was a teen in the 90s, after all.)

☆ One thing about Leon is that he LOVES cold weather and winter because he gets to wear more jackets and show them off. He probably has a whole jacket collection.

☆ He acts silly when he gets drunk. He laughs a lot and his face gets red.

☆ Dislikes smoking.

☆ Leon likes taking care of his hair, he’s been sporting the same hairstyle for years so when he needs a trim he makes sure to find the perfect hairstylist. He might run a background check, he’s so extra.

☆ His favorite holiday is Christmas. (Not Halloween, he’s seen too many monsters already. Give him a break. He also likes giving gifts lowkey.)

☆ When he’s feeling stressed he’ll usually get nightmares, so he sleeps with the light on sometimes.

☆ Loves helping people, and kids too. They remind him of Sherry.

☆ Sometimes, he’ll feel lonely. Deep down, he’s afraid of getting too close to people because he’s afraid of losing them to another outbreak or something worse.

☆ He sometimes gives himself a pep talk when he starts feeling down. He just needs to keep moving forward.

Love life

☆ He hasn’t been in a relationship in a long time, and even though he’s not exactly clueless or inexperienced his teenage years don’t compare to his adult ones. Relationships are different now, he feels like he’s got a lot to learn. specially since he has trust issues. He takes his time to get to know his future s/o,

☆ He likes hugs but isn’t used to them so he never goes to give one first. (He will in the future though)

☆ Quality time!!!

☆ Leon is committed to learning about all the things his s/o loves, enjoys, and wants. He’s the type of guy to remember something his s/o told him ONCE, months ago.

☆ He loves taking his s/o out to dinner, it’s one of his favorite things to do. He makes sure nothing will interrupt his date.

☆ He isn’t a jealous guy, I’m sure. But he’s terrified of losing his s/o.

☆ Loves slow kisses.

☆ As well as embracing his s/o and making sure they feel protected.

☆ Loves nicknames and OBVIOUSLY calling them sexy.

☆ Has a hate/love relationship with teasing. He enjoys it but gets quite needy after some time. He likes to be the one teasing though, every once in a while.

☆ Love language is quality time, giving gifts and cuddling. He’ll always make sure his s/o is happy and well. 💞

sorry this was short, i’ll make more head cannons in the future!

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hwajin · 1 year

Text

#! — ғʟᴜғғʏ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴋᴢ

genre: fluff

pairing: skz x gn!reader

note: i'm so hyped for christmas and i LOVE the time right before the holidays so here's a couple headcanons for the season jfjejdne, enjoy and happy holidays to everyone celebrating and a warm and cozy time to everyone who isn't <3

ᴄʜᴀɴ

sir makes an advent calender for you for sure 😩😩. like he doesn't buy one, he goes the extra mile and gets an idea to make 24 special presents for you HIMSELF (all of them rather small becasue he doesn't want them to overshine the main present on christmas eve, yet thoughtful enough for you to absolutely MELT at the fact he put so much effort into a seemingly irrelevant thing such as an advent calender???). honestly, in general, pre christmas and winter time, december all throughout january, is SO incredibly soft with this man. cuddles all the way, if not in bed cuz he has to work then on his lap WHILE he's working fr. both of you in hoodies of his, both of you in fluffy socks that keep you warm. you dozing off at some point, him giggling about it and taking a pic to keep the memory, and it's just all so warm and soft and cuddly :(((

ᴍɪɴʜᴏ

COOKS SO MUCH FOR YOU 😩😩. like he's in charge for christmas dinner so he needs to run some test meals and it's convenient that you're there cuz you can just taste test everything <33. is so sweet when he runs up to you with a hot spoon in his hand and tells you to blow first before digging in. in general the whole of december is very sweet with him but on a very lowkey level. he wouldn't go all in with being overly romantic, wouldn't die to visit winter markets with you — but seeing how much you like the sparkling lights that illuminate the city and how much joy it brings you to stroll around, kicking the snow beneath your feet, he can't help it and sees himself wishing to go out for yet another walk in the cold with you. oh and you can BET there's gonna be endless snowball fights. like endless. lino'd definitely keep track of who won last time and either is trying to get a revenge or would egg you on to get back at him. really just for the fun of it, he loves sillying around with you whenever you step foot into the snow <3.

ᴄʜᴀɴɢʙɪɴ

ice skating dates allll the way, and winter market strolls!! boy is definitely a sucker for everything sweet and romantic around christmas and is so soft with you throughout all of december (he is always, but when the temperatures are cold it feels like he's this much more drawn to you, searching for warmth in your embrace and providing you with a warming body as well). and he eats SO much with you omg!!! like when you remind him of dieting or healthy eating man's is JUDGING YOU SO HARD cuz when else would you be able to go to a winter market when the snow is falling and order some chocolate covered fruits and roasted almonds and drink mulled wine and get all comfy and tired and sleepy together and end up sharing drunken kisses on your way home??? like that is a ONCE in a life time experience and he will throw every principle of healthy eating out the window if it means munching and sipping stuff in your company <333.

ʜʏᴜɴᴊɪɴ

SO IN LOVE WITH CHRISTMAS R U KIDDING. christmas time and especially pre christmas time is the very best with him. when you wake up to see it snowing — mind you, especially if it's the first ever snow this year — he will get so sappy and romantic and be all like 'we're soulmates now cuz we saw the first snow together' and he'll stay cuddling you for a while longer SUFFOCATING YOU before begging to go out with him to feel the falling snow on his face and hands. will also ADORE visiting winter markets with you, having some wintery food like roasted almonds and mulled wine which he gets so sleepy from. like he loves watching ppl being happy and winter markets give him the perfect view for it — most importantly loves seeing you happy tho, and the smile you have painted on your face while strolling around with him is unbeatable. also fucking loves to simply cuddle up at home with just the two of you alone and unbothered, not necessarily watching a movie even, but simply sitting and being warm together. like that's all he needs to be happy fr.

ᴊɪsᴜɴɢ

i feel like boy loves mulled wine so much you'd have to carry him home because he never learns and drinks WAY too fucking much because it's so tasty and ends up barely able to stand up straight. also just very loves all the snacks and cookies and sweets around the holidays, like will buy so much ginger bread it's crazy you'll end up eating it up until like february. OH AND GINGER BREAD HOUSE COMPETITIONS !!!! like he'd see it on tiktok at some point, people competing in building ginger bread houses and he simply NEEDS to know who'd win between the two of you. you'd blast some christmas playlist — not before going to shop for the ingrediants together and probably forgetting a couple because you just can't coordinate — and you'd set a timer to add a bit to the competition feeling. hanji SINGS his lungs out on every single christmas song, tries outsinging mariah carey and at some point you can't help but ask him to tone it down because your ears — as good of a singer as he is — can only take this much.

ғᴇʟɪx

BAKING DATES. LOTS OF THEM. like he loves baking normally anyways but doesn't want to overdo it if there's no occassion, but winter calls for baking millions of cookies on end and handing them out to every single friend he has (and their families, he just loves spoiling people). and he finds it so cute when the two of you get to bake together, like especially if you're normally not a big baker he LOVES kinda teaching and guiding you on what to do. every baking session would end up kinda messily because of mysterious reasons (you claim tho that it's never your fault the cookies look a bit ugly or are way sweeter than they should be), but despite that both you and him can laugh about it, enjoying that not everything has to go perfect for the both of you to have fun. is definitely a fan of winter markets, mentions WAY too often that it's WAY too cold tho so he prefers to stay home with you, cuddling up on the sofa with classic christmas movies and being all fuzzy and warm and soft <33.

sᴇᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ

is such a perfectionist when decorating the house OMG. you'd go decoration shopping with him, setting on a vibe and theme before spending WAY too much money and ending up only using like half the stuff anyways. and tho he has to say a LOT about where certain stuff should be hanging it's nevertheless so much fun to spend the time with him, getting your own four walls looking as pretty and wintery as ever. he'd be teasing you so much for no good reason other than to annoy you (and because he loves how much you always react to it), like messing with the christmas ball you want to hang up on the tree, or putting sparkly garlands around your neck, or suddenly coming up to you and planting a kiss right to your lips and watching you get incredibly flustered. omg and singing christmas songs with him??? or like, listening to him sing more than you singing yourself, but whenever a classic plays on the radio he hums with it and it warms your heart so so much you melt into a small puddle upon his voice filling the warm home.

ᴊᴇᴏɴɢɪɴ

no cuz boy is so soft throughout winter :(((. i know he plans your present months prior so he's all set for WEEKS simply to not stress over gifts, especially for you. puts lots of thought into the present as well, important to get you something meaningful that you'd be able to remember him by. the moment the first snow falls he's DRAGGING you outside with him, having snowball fights and building snowpeople and tackling you onto the ground to make snow angels <33. OMG and do y'all know those snow duck presses??? the ones where you put some snow in between and press together and a snow duck appears??? he'd have ordered it early enough to be SO prepared to use it when there's enough snow outside, making a whole army of little snow ducks and taking pics of them with you and him in front <333.

@leihey @happycandynoelle @hyvndee @cotccotc @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts

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therealvinelle · 2 months

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Favorite month for each of the cullens? For James’ coven?

I'm fascinated, why James's coven? But alright.

The Cullens

Alice likes parties, she likes decorating, she likes to have a reason to decorate the house for a party. And nothing says parties, decor, and finding a way to be modern, somehow sexy, yet tasteful and teaming up with Esme like Christmas and New Years' Eve. Plus the sun sets much earlier so she can go shopping at human hours, use atmospheric outdoor lighting, and have all sorts of seasonal fun that simply doesn't work the same in the Summer months (and Spring and Autumn are... so wet...). It's December for Alice.

Carlisle likes when he can be out longer, when the snow is still pristine and when there are happy festivities happening. He would uncomplicatedly be a December person, except the festivities are... dampened... by the family and partner violence and suicide attempts he gets at the end of the month. He's a December person who sees it as the time he has to save more people than usual, and also the snow is pretty.

Edward is for the fall months, because fall is such a beautiful time of year and more importantly he can think gloomy thoughts about nature following the cycle of life, every year it comes to life then dies again while he lives on. November... the twilight of the year, that brief flash of rapidly passing weeks just before the darkest time of the year and the death that is winter rolls in.

Emmett loves Christmas. There is no doubt in my mind Rosalie does a "Happy birthday, Mr. President" routine, and that they have some horrible lane about making their own fireworks for New Years' Eve. December is awesome, bro.

Esme loves family, festivities, and the joy of exchanging gifts with loved ones. Christmas is a wonderful time of year, but so too are the days leading up to Christmas, when she can put out the decorations and have a meaningful way of marking the passage of time for a few weeks. December.

Jasper enjoys the happy emotions coming from his family. December.

Renesmee's concept of the passage of time is completely warped. She dutifully says "December" when asked about her favorite month because that seems to be the done thing in this family.

Rosalie has thoughts about how Christmas is a time to be spent with family, specifically with children who believe in Santa Claus and miracles, and while she has a family there's a very central part of Christmas she'll never have, just as she can't enjoy any of the little things that made Christmas what it is, such as gingerbread cookies. It's another painful reminder, but so is her entire life. Renesmee helps heal this for her, in that there's now a child she can have many if not all of these Christmassy things she wanted to experience with, and also in that I somehow know several years of Christmases with the entire extended Black-Clearwater-Cullen-Swan family will be such a clusterfuck, everyone except Bella sensing the tensions, that Rosalie will be completely disillusioned as to what "family Christmas, just like the humans have it!" will never be appealing to her again.

James & co

Victoria prefers whichever month of the year rains most in whichever region of the world she's in. Rain washes away her scent, she can hide, and that makes for a happy Victoria.

James shares Victoria's preference, as more rain makes the hunt more difficult and he loves a challenge

Laurent thinks these people are fucking weird, rain ruins his hair and clothes and can we get a house? Laurent would like a house. ("How badly" is a question he must ask himself chez the Denali.)

#the cullens #cullens #twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanons #twilight renaissance #james #victoria #laurent #jasper hale #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #renesmee cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen

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ithinkabouttzu · 4 months

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Hello, I love your bofb headcannons 😭 i wonder if i can have a headcannon for the guys being protective/jealous over the gn!reader please? And if it is okay then can you add Wayne Sisk to this too? He's one of my favorite characters so yeah :) have a good day!

Easy co. being protective over their s/o

Genre: Romance; angst

warnings: Heavy jealous themes; a tiny bit of suggestion

description: Easy co. getting overprotective over you (his s/o) at a bar or any group setting. (reader is gn)

a/n: I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for! I already had made a jealous one a couple months ago so I tried to do one that’s protective instead of jealous, anyway I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky @samwinchesterslostshoe @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

Dick Winters: - He only gets overprotective when someone has said something rude to you or made you feel uncomfortable in any way

- he makes sure to stay super close to you and will keep his eyes on you at all times

- doesn’t stay more then 5 feet away from you

- sometimes when he’s doing something you might even be a distraction for him

- just because he just wants you to be safe and wants to protect you no matter what.

- Even when he gets protective over you, he tries not making a big deal out of it. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to seem controlling so he tries his best letting it go.

Lewis Nixon: - When he starts getting like that he makes sure to let everyone know by his actions

- rolling his eyes at anyone that gets too close to you or something like that. he’s so passive aggressive to everyone else

- he especially gets protective when you’re wearing something that shows your skin, just because if any creeps make a move on you he can tell them off.

- HAS to keep his hand or arm on you or around you the whole time that you guys are out together.

- when you guys get home though he makes sure to apologize if he was being overprotective and just reminding you that he wants to be there for you.

Carwood Lipton: - He rarely gets overprotective over you, just because he respects you and doesn’t want to come off as controlling to you so he backs off for the most part

- but when he does get overprotective over it’s because he’s just really worried about you

- he knows you can handle your own but he still gets so worried that something will happen to you because people suck

- He asks if you’re okay over and over again almost to the point where it’s annoying

- He’ll just stare at you, just watching your every move (not in a creepy way) to make sure that no one is bothering you.

- Kisses you afterwards and hugs you tightly, making sure you know how much he cares about you.

Joe Toye: - Stares down any guy that gets close to you (and if looks could kill they would be GONE)

- He walks up to you and keeps his hand on the small of your back for the rest of the night. He won’t risk some creep coming up to you, then he’ll have to knock them out

- Keeps his eyes on the lookout for any guys even looking your way

- He has to stop himself from fighting a guy when he came up to you and asked if you wanted to dance right in front of him (the nerve)

- He’s very touchy the whole time after that, showing everyone one way or another that your his and only his.

- makes you guys leave earlier because he was just getting pissed off by all the douchebags looking at you

Joe Liebgott: - He doesn’t try to be overprotective but it just comes off that way.

- He doesn’t get too protective but when he does…

- Oh, someone bumped into you while walking? Well now that person is bumped up against the wall being yelled at.

- He’d try his absolute best to defend his behavior, telling you that the guy should’ve watched where he was walking

- It’s not in a toxic way he just really wants to make sure that you’re okay

- He makes sure to apologize to you afterwards though and let you know that he was in the wrong.

Bill Guarnere: - He gets really overprotective when you’re wearing something a bit short or showy.

- He’s not going to make you cover up or be mad at you, nothing toxic like that

- BUT he will be sure to kick some ass if any guys get too close to you or make you uncomfortable or upset

- “What the fuck you lookin’ at? Gotta starin problem?”

- Not gonna lie he can be a little problematic when it comes to you LOL

- Let’s just say if he does get into a fight over you (which he probs will) he will make SURE to make it up to you afterwards no matter what.

- “sorry ‘bout earlier, I just hate when people are lookin’ at you like that”

Eugene Roe: - Rarely gets overprotective, only when guys are physically are making you uncomfortable

- He’ll make sure to tell them off it they are making you feel uncomfy

- “Leave em’ alone or we’re gonna have a problem”

- If they keep on and don’t respect your space, he’ll make SURE to get them kicked out of the joint immediately

- “No one messes with them, no matter what”

- The rest of the night he just stays extra close to you so that no one will hurt you

George Luz: - He gets overprotective when he’s jealous

- Like if another guy is trying to flirt with you, he’s going to fuck with him, respectfully.

- If a guy is flirting with you, he will be so passive aggressive to them, with a hand wrapped around your waist the entire time

- He doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene, but if someone keeps trying to make you uncomfortable he will be SURE throw hands

- “Don’t fuck with them, got it?”

- Honestly the rest of the night he keeps trying to justify beating that guy because “he was looking at you the wrong way”

Bull Randleman: - rarely gets overprotective but he does worry about you when there’s a bunch of guys in a crowd and they start getting rowdy

- If they make you upset in any way he will make his presence KNOWN for sure

- like just one look from him will send all of them running, cause I mean, who wants to get in a fight with him?

- Makes sure to stay close to you and asks if you if you’re alright afterwards

- He’s so sweet and gentle to you though, if you feel like you need to leave or take a second away he’ll go with you and make sure you’re alright

- But when he gets back he’s definitely throwing fists with whoever is making you feel that way

Floyd Talbert: - “Gotta starin’ problem?” Ugh why is it so hot when he gets overprotective?!?!

- He’d ask you if you knew the guy that kept giving you weird looks at the bar. When you said no he was honestly contemplating to go up to the guy

- Doesn’t leave your side not even for a second.

- If someone tries to get up close to you or make a move on you he’s going to make it known that he’s your man, if that means he’s gotta make out with you in front of everyone, or keep his hands on your ass the whole time he will

- When you guys leave he makes sure to ask you though, “You’re all mine, right?”

- Gives you spicy make-up time for being so possessive earlier

Skip Muck: - Only gets overprotective when someone says something hurtful to you or makes you sad

- Like he just wants to be able to protect you and be there for you, it’s so saddening when he can’t :(

- He’ll make sure to keep you by his side the whole time you guys are out

- And if someone looks at you wrong or says something bad to you he’s definitely confronting them about it.

- He will definitely fight anyone in the room when it comes to you, so if they had a problem with you they can deal with him first

- If he acts too aggressive to anyone he will apologize to you later, he just hates seeing you be anything but happy.

Don Malarkey: - Get can get pretty overprotective, but it’s only because he loves you, not out of anything toxic

- Will definitely throw hands if someone says anything sideways at you

- I feel like he would be overprotective to you only when he’s angry or in a bad mood especially

- Some girls are being mean to you? He’s asking them if their boyfriends can fight bc NO ONE messes with his bae

- Keeps his eyes on you AT ALL TIMES

- Really cares about you and just never wants to see you uncomfortable ever. He knows you can take care yourself too, but he just wants to be there for you just in case

Shifty Powers: - Wants to make sure that you stay close to him, he really doesn’t want to let you out of his sight

- Doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re being controlled or anything so he tries not to overbear too much but he just gets worried about you in big crowds

- If any guy, friendly or not comes up to you, he’s joining you two immediately to see wha the guy wants

- “Is there something you need? I’ll be glad to help you if so.” He’s so nice about it but you know that he’s just doing that to get under the other person’s skin

- “You’re mine right? No one else’s?”

- He apologizes afterwards even though he really didn’t do anything bad. He just wants to be close to you in those moments and doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.

Babe Heffron: - When he gets overprotective around you, just know he’s looking for a fight tbh

- Like someone looks at you the wrong way? slap. Someone doesn’t say excuse me when they’re walking through the crowd? Slap.

- He doesn’t care who it is, his hands are E for everyone. (true ride or die)

- Keeps his hand on your ass the whole time

- Also has to keep a serious face on the entire time that he’s there with you

- You’ll probably have to drag him away from a fight by the end of the night

Frank Perconte: - He gets ticked off super easily by everyone when he gets protective over you

- Like literally everyone annoys him. You’re probably the only person who can calm him down and tell him to chill out without him getting mad

- If a guy gets close to you he’ll start shit talking about them (BAD)

- “Gotta fuckin’ problem?” He says, joining in the conversation between you and the guy that was talking to you.

- Has to excuse himself earlier in the night because everyone is pissing him off

- “i’m sorry about earlier, doll. You know I love you”

Ronald Speirs: - He’s protective almost all of the time.

- Like he really doesn’t play about you AT ALL. He’s kinda like, “touch them and you die” kinda bf

- “Let’s stay close to each other tonight, alright?”

- He doesn’t fight anyone, or try to scare anyone off, but by the look on his face and the way he’s holding onto you, everyone is too scared to make a pass towards you.

- “Ron, why was everyone avoiding us tonight? It’s like they were scared of us or something” (they in fact, were very scared)

- He tries not to act like that frequently but whenever he goes out with you, he knows how rowdy the boys can get and wants to keep you safe.

Johnny Martin: - Everyone is low-key scared of him too, so when he brings around his bae, everyone knows not to mess with you

- But he still can get really overprotective in general sometimes

- like he just has a horrible fear that you will get hurt one day and he won’t be able to save you

- “You alright, honey? If someone gives you any problems you let me know, okay?”

- Immediate death stare if someone says anything remotely rude to you (which is effective IMMEDIATELY)

- It’s honestly kinda hot when he gets so possessive over you, like he just seems so much more sexier

Skinny Sisk: - Tries not to get too overprotective verbally but it definitely shows in his actions

- He’s keeping one hand on you at all times, no exceptions.

- When he gets like this, it’s almost like he’s waiting for someone to come up to you and say something that makes you uncomfortable,

- He’s also very prepared to beat someone up for you.

- And anyone could tell he looked mad as hell, his jaw almost locking by how hard he was clenching it when a guy looks your way

- He also gets very touchy, kissing you any chance you give him, feeling all around you, he will make SURE that everyone knows you’re his

Chuck Grant: - When he gets overprotective over you, let’s just be glad looks can’t kill, if they did then a lot of men in the room would be dead for looking at you

- The way he keeps his eyes on you all night long is kind of attractive tbh

- he’ll make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, making only your presence known

- Keeps his jaw clenched up if a guys asks you for a dance, he’s quick to steal you away from the party then

- When he finally gets to have you all to himself, he can’t help but push you up against the wall and plant kisses all over your neck and collarbone.

- “I’m sorry I took you away from the crowd, doll, but i’ve gotta have you to myself tonight”

David Webster: - Asks you over and over again if you’re comfortable when a guy looks at you, he gets so pissed on the inside but tries to keep it to himself bc he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.

- Tries to stay close to you the whole entire night

- Somehow if a guy does come up to you, he’s joining the conversation immediately. Being the most obnoxious he could possibly get

- “You mind if me and mine dance for a second? sorry to leave you by yourself”

- Once he gets you away from the guy he apologizes, not because he thinks he did anything wrong but because it could’ve came off rude to you

- “I’m sorry if you were still talking to that guy back there, but I just really wanted to dance with you” (which is partly true but he also just wants you to himself)

Buck Compton: - He only really gets like this when he’s got a lot of energy pent up, or he’s horny

- “Woah, you look nice tonight, I hope I dont have to fight any guys for looking at you” (he’s foreshadowing btw)

- His grip on you is TIGHTT, this man is really not willing to let you go, under NO circumstances fr

- If anyone is trying to flirt with you he’ll give them the “Do we have a problem?” Look

- Makes you two leave early because he’s just angry and annoyed at everyone

- Definitely taking some of that anger out on you when you guys get home (if you know what I mean 😉) but he loves you and apologizes afterwards if he was too harsh

Thank you for your request, im sorry if it’s not so good, I hope you enjoyed!!! If you liked this, make sure to like or reblog :)

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buckyarchives · 1 year

Text

metal arms and short skirts | bucky barnes. [3.]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. while bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, you're more than happy to help him.

word count: 4.9k

a/n : i started this with an upload schedule but it went completely out the window, oops. and i’m taking request for bucky onshots rn. not beta’d/brief proof reading

outfit reference here

story playlist here

read on AO3 | masterlist

Bucky woke up the next morning happier than usual, more excited to start the day, just wanting to see you. Even if it was just a moment in the hallways while you busied yourself with work. A part of himself was relieved at the fact he didn't have to purposely injure himself just to see you, Natasha was starting to get suspicious when he took hits or pulled punches.

As he woke up, Bucky planned it all out. Sam was going to come by soon to go on a run, then Bucky would take a shower (he also decided midst his sleep he needs to make himself more pretty for you), grab some food and coffee and drop by the lab.

Enduring all the teasing by Sam towards Bucky while making laps around the compound, they both easily made it around the new recruits. Shower, done. Bucky thought about you the entire time, not in a creepy way, it was endearing. He took a much-needed walk through the city nearby; you can only spend so much time in the compound without feeling suffocated, and found some hipster coffee shop that reminded him of you. Bucky thought about taking you on another date, hopefully soon. Grabbed some pumpkin bread and a coffee that he totally didn't have to ask Natasha about. Back in the 40s, bucky can't remember coffee being made any other way than just– one way.

Bucky walked back into the compound with a little skip in his step, which didn't go unnoticed by the others. It wasn’t every day that the infamous winter soldier didn't trudge around the compound - scowl permanently on his face.

The familiar head of hair showed behind the panels of glass, vaguely showing into your lab. Bucky's steps falter slightly as he observes you at work, so focused and concentrated on whatever task was in front of you. Bucky admired your intelligence and confidence far more than he had expected. You had practically swept him off his feet with it.

Trying not to startle or disturb you, Bucky slowly slid the door open, balancing your coffee and food in hand. You were balancing on a small stool as you reached for some hidden files at the very top of a bookcase.

Bucky opened his mouth to greet you, and just as the first syllable came out. You let out a high-pitched yelp and flinched back, the files dropping from your hand and falling all over the floor. Bucky watched as your chunky heel caught on the stool, losing your footing and now free falling. But bucky was quicker, he dropped everything and brought his arms out to catch you before you fell backward to the floor.

A metal arm wrapped around your upper waist and flesh hand steadying your legs on the ground, so they don't give out. You're perfectly placed hair now messy, and bucky looking down at you with wide eyes.

“Shit–” he breathed, “are you okay?”

You don't say anything at first, you are caught starstruck staring back up at bucky. A dazed smile grows to your ears. “I am now.”

Bucky can't bite back the giddy smile that grows on his face. “You should be more careful.”

“Why would I when I have a night in shining…” your bright eyes look down at the arm that wrapped around your body. “Metal watching over me?”

Bucky grows red at the acknowledgment of his arms that are still wrapped around you, and the closeness between your body and his. Only a few inches separate your lips, and bucky's eyes go wide from embarrassment.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” he panics, slowly letting go of you. You stand up straight now and gaze going straight at the large puddle of spilled coffee across the floor, next to the file you dropped.

“you, uh– dropped your coffee.” you point out.

“Christ, I'm so sorry.” bucky says, flustered to hell as he instantly goes for a roll of paper towels sitting on the table. God- he feels like such a mess. So much for the plan. “Fuck, really I’m sorry. I went all the way across town to get coffee for you, and I wanted to surprise you with it– fucking hell, I had to ask Nat what your order was, and then I just spill it, making a mess of your space. I’m such an idiot, I'm… I'm rambling, sorry.”

You looked stunned and dazed with towels in your hand, stopping when you began to listen to Bucky's rant. Slowly growing flustered. Bucky turns around, worry laced on his face as he waits for your reaction, expecting you to lecture him for making a mess. He feels so stupid–

“You got me coffee?” your mouth gapes open and bucky can't help but think you looked adorable standing in front of him.

Rising to his feet, a sheepish smile on his face as he goes faces you. “Yeah and, uh, bread. Pumpkin bread.”

“Is the bread okay?”

Bucky turns his head to where he stood only a few minutes ago, eyes landing on the bag. Bending to pick it up to see a perfectly good loaf, only a little smushed on the bottom. Bucky forces a smile as he hands them to you. “Still edible.”

“Thank you so much.” you beam up at him, quickly grabbing the bag. Quicker than Bucky can think, you close the distance between you and him, standing on your toes to give him a peck on his cheek. All happening so quickly that bucky got whiplash, blinking rapidly to himself as you walk past him to clean up the rest of the mess.

“Hey, no. I got it.” bucky objects, grabbing the towel from you. “It's my mess and you might get your outfit dirty.”

It's then when Bucky notices your outfit today, a baby blue dress that he can only think matches the shade of his eyes (whether it was intentional on your end or not: but it so was), strapless and fitting your body nicely. Stopping at your mid-thigh– which felt expected now, but bucky still grew a little flustered as his eyes lingered. Your usual white goo goo boots, which had resulted in your fall.

“Thank you, bucky.” you smile, going to gather the files spread out on the floor.

It doesn't take long at all for Bucky to clean up the floor and follow you to one of the less crowded areas of the lab, you were almost messier than tony- almost. You’d pulled a chunk from the bread and offered him some, which bucky took gladly as you ate your own piece.

“So what brings you here besides spilling coffee and giving out bread?” you start, looking at bucky with the softest eyes ever. Successfully pulling at bucky's heartstrings and leaving him breathless.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.” Bucky shrugs.

You smile sweetly, “then I'd say I'm glad, because I wanted to see you too.”

Bucky leans back from the edge of the table, biting the side of his cheek. “Well, I don't want to hold you up.” bucky silently motioned to the door, but your hand goes to him before he can move.

“Stay, I'm not busy.” you smile.

Bucky blinks once, twice before he leans back in. “okay. You sure?”

You bit the bottom of your lip and nodded, a giddy smile on your face. Bucky can't seem to grasp how he could have made you smile like that, so beautiful.

“Last night was fun.” you start, gaze not leaving bucky.

Bucky nods in agreement, not noticing the way you stepped a few inches closer to him. “I'm glad.”

Your eyes flickered to bucky's lip and he swears he stopped breathing at that moment, his body moving closer to yours. A part of bucky doesn't understand how you could make him feel this way, how you can light a spark in him that he was so positive burnt out decades ago. Make his heart thumps so loudly you didn't need to be a super soldier to hear. How you could make him blush so easily and seemingly command his body closer to you.

Now bucky's eyes catch your lips, and your hand ghost above his waist. Faces only a few inches between them and bucky's senses are on overdrive as he can smell the vanilla and lavender on your body. Bucky closes the space between you two, slanting his lips on yours. Tasting the pumpkin spice as you kissed him.

A smile graces his lips as you lean into his touch, now snaking his arms around your waist. Your hands are brought up to his jaw and around his neck. Bucky is in a pure state of bliss and he’s sure his soul is ready to leave his body.

“Hey! No making out in the lab, especially with my best worker.” Tony's Starks shrill voice breaks the two of you apart, drowning in your own pools of embarrassment. A coldness washes over Bucky's body.

“Tony! Jesus Christ, what is it with people sneaking up on me today?” you think out loud, and collect yourself and stand up straight. “What brings you by?”

“You got a meeting with Dr. Pym at 4 and Helen is flying in at 7 to do some test of the new regeneration project.“ Tony hands a folder to you, a thick one with large, red letters spelling out ‘[Classified]’ on them. Tony's eyes catch bucky’s, a smirk rises to his face. “And Barnes, maybe ask your girlfriend about that thing tomorrow night.”

Your eye perks up and beam towards Bucky, Tony sending a quick wink toward Bucky as he continues down the hall. “What thing?” you ask him.

“This gala, it’s at the Stark tower on Saturday. Natasha says it's just PR for the most part, to talk to politicians and press mostly.'' Bucky starts, realizing what Tony meant now, starting to fidget with his fingers.

“Would you like to go with me? As a date?”

You blink once, twice, and stare in awe as bucky's nervously darts his eyes around the room, avoiding your gaze. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you're busy though-”

“Yes.” you smile brightly, leaving bucky breathless once again.

Bucky chews on his cheek, “really?”

“Yes.” you begin to close the gap again, “I’d be more than happy to go with you.”

Bucky starts to realize how much control he lacks around you, the constant feeling in his heart that tugs him towards you. He feels lighter; yet more nervous around you. Your eyes follow him, and bucky’s tongue swipes across his lips for a quick moment. Close enough to feel his breath again.

“Can I kiss you again?'' Bucky asks, almost breathless.

Your lip quirks up into a small smirk, playfully narrowing your eyes in his direction. Your chin raises up high to reach him. “Hmm, can you? Don't you have somewhere to be, sergeant?”

Bucky's heart flutters at the use of his rank, the way your voice sounds smooth as honey when you teased him. A part of him wants to just take you now, in the middle of your lab, with the risk of anyone walking.

“I don't know, do I?” bucky plays dumb, attempting to match your playful tone.

You lean in close and give bucky a quick peck on his lips, far too short for bucky to be satisfied. Maybe even lighting a bigger flame in his stomach, aching for more of you. “Maybe a mission?”

Bucky groans, his head falling limp and his long, brunette hair falling in his face. “Don't remind me.”

“Come on.” you smack your lips, wrapping your hands around his face as you push his head back upright. Revealing a dopey smile, warmth courses through bucky at your touch. His worries simply melt away: as if it's that easy. Your thumb lightly caressed his cheek. “I’m sure Steve is looking for you, go kicks some Hydra agent's ass so you can come back and we can dance at a fancy gala.”

“You make it sound so easy, doll.” bucky sighs, his mouth pouts as he leans into your touch.

You pull his face in, kissing him once again. With a sweet and innocent kiss, bucky's hand raises to ghost over your waist before you pull back. “Go be a hero for me.”

Bucky wants to protest, but you are already playfully pushing him near the exit of your lab. A grin is painted on both of your faces, and bucky's gaze is dripping with adoration for you.

“No, I want to stay.” bucky wines, lingering at your door. “Don't get rid of me.”

“Get back safe for me, yeah?” you spoke.

Buckys exhales, studying your face for a moment. Memorizing your features, almost as if he'd forget. A smile grows as he pecks your lips once more. “Fine, get rid of me.”

“Tell the other I said ‘have a safe mission’” you say, as bucky steps out of the lab. Giving you one more sweet smile.

“Will do!” bucky shouts, just as you leave his sight and head back into your lab.

Once the sliding glass doors close and you have a moment to yourself, your hand clutches your heart. Feeling it pound rapidly against your chest, your face feels warm. Bucky's touch lingers on your waist and lips, already missing him.

******

Dust filled bucky's lungs as his eyes began to flutter open, coughing roughly as he regained his consciousness. A sharp pain shot through his entire body, and bucky tried to flip to his side but he couldn't seem to move. Bucky’s eyes scan the area, and black spots filled his vision, but he could see the remains of the hydra facility everywhere.

Only a few moments ago, bucky stood close to Steve and Sam as they searched through the supposedly abandoned facility. But their intel was either wrong or the mission was compromised because a group of a dozen agents crashed through one of the doors.

Ending up in a fight, separating the three, and just as bucky had one of the last agents pinned down by the throat, he pulled out a beeping device. In red digital letter counted down to zero. Before Bucky couldn’t yell out to take cover, everything went up in flames with a ground rattling boom. Bucky must have hit his head and fallen unconscious for a moment, only now waking back up.

Bucky attempted to get up again, but his left arm wouldn't budge. Between heavy pants, his gaze fell down to his arm. The sharp pain coursing through his body came from the nerve endings from his still human shoulder being pushed up against his metal arm, being crushed from the biceps to his hand. Stuck under a huge slab of concrete.

Trying to pull it out of the rouble, flinching as he feels the metal connecting to his shoulder strain. His shoulder muscles feel like their being torn apart at every single flinch or small movement. A strained groan escaped his lip, attempting to push the concrete away with his right, but it was too heavy.

Bucky hears the faint sound of dragged footsteps, the dust still swarming through the air. Only seeing a figure dressed in black slowly get up from the crash. Bucky narrows his eyes to try and make out who.

“Sam?’ Bucky's voice is graveled and quiet. Followed by a choked cough.

The person did not respond or turn to bucky, bucky's vision starts coming back slowly. The man that stood across the room was not Sam or Steve. With a tentacle tattoo peeping from his collar, bucky's heart picked up, the man's gun cocked back and pointed down to the floor. Just above a passed-out sam, blood soaking his shirt.

Bucky's gun stood a few feet away from him, panic coursing through his body as he tried to reach for it. With his left hand stuck under the rubble, he couldn't move. Bucky braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to slide his arm out. He winched and cried through bared teeth as he pulled, and pulled. His shoulder felt like it was being torn apart, because– well, it was.

His hand touched the gun and with absolutely no hesitation, Bucky aimed at the Hydra agent's head and pulled the trigger. The man's body fell limp and hit the ground with a thud before he could set fire to Sam.

A heavy exhale left bucky's lips, relief coursed through his body knowing Sam wasn't in immediate danger at the hands of the agents. Bucky's head turned back towards his arm, his breath hitched at the sight. His metal arm was torn in half, severed wires spark at his biceps where it was torn.

Bucky's breath picked up and his chest heaved, anxiety coursing through his body as flashbacks from the alps came crashing in. blood and nazis standing above him as they found him barely alive, the cold snow soaking through his uniform as they dragged him through the canyon.

Black spotted his vision again as he tried to gather to his feet, he needed to check on Sam, he’s bleeding– Steve, wheres Steve? Are all the agents dead? Bucky's chest felt heavy, and his head lulled around as he grew dizzy. Fuck– his shoulder hurts like hell. Where is his comms? Are they damaged? Did agent hill hear the place blow? Is someone coming? Get up, Barnes!

Bucky choked on his own thoughts, his knees giving out before he couldn't even stand fully. He hit the ground, and everything went black.

*****

“So you and bucky? How'd the date go?” you could hear Natasha smirk from behind your back. She sat on a counter of your lab, hanging around just as Helen arrived.

“Did you melt the poor old man's heart?” Clint added, who also followed Natasha in here and decided to hang around. You enjoyed the company as you worked.

You smiled ear to ear to yourself, flipping through your files on some Stark tech you were assigned to look at. Trying to bite back the grin as you turned to face the two, a poor job as well considering Clint didn't miss a beat at teasing you.

“It was good, better than I expected,” you spoke. “He asked me to the gala tomorrow night.”

“You're welcome,” Natasha smirked, bringing a bottle of water to her mouth.

“I can’t believe you're actually taking time aside to date, you've never batted an eye towards romance while working before,” Helen adds.

“Well, it's a lot easier when he's at your work.”

Clint opened his mouth to say something, probably some teasing comment. But it was abruptly cut off by the loud shouts and cries of your name down the hall. Everyone in the room perked their head up, Natasha was quick on her feet to crane her neck out into the hallway.

A gasp escaped Natasha's lips as her gaze fell on whoever was yelling, instantly rushing out of the lab. You dropped everything as another cry for your help echoed through the compound.

Into the hallway stood Steve, holding onto a half-conscious Sam with a trail of blood in his wake. Close behind stood a grimey bucky, down an arm and in obvious pain.

“Shit!” you gasped, turning to Helen. “Sam's critical, get out a stretcher and an IV.”

You rush down the hall, your heel echoing as you stop to pull Sam over your shoulder. Examining the wound as best you can as you help Steve drag him toward the lab. It looks to be a large gash on his right side, and an exit wound. Which was a good thing considering what could have been.

“I need to get him steady and into surgery asap!” you shout down the hall toward Helen, “what the hell happened?”

“Ambush, they blew the building before we could even think to take cover. I think Sam fell on some metal rod.” Steve spoke through heavy pants.

“He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay.” you repeat, almost as if you're speaking to yourself. Steve helping you lay Sam over the stretcher as they wheel him off into the surgery room. you leave him in Helen's hands as she and Steve follow him. You fall back and turn to bucky with worry laced in your features.

“Holy shit, bucky.” you gasp at the sight, blood soaked his clothes; unsure if it belonged to him or not. Grime and dirt painted his skin, and his arm was gone. Wires severed and sparked as the metal panels were crushed and cut into sharp edges.

“I’m okay, doll. It's not as bad as it lo-”

Bucky can barely finish his sentence before you're aggressively grabbing at him and shoving him into the lab. “Are you hurt? What happened– holy shit, are you okay?” you rattled out faster than you could think. Eyes frantically checking over bucky as your hand's ghost over his body.

“My shoulder feels like it's on fire, but i'm okay.” he looks down at the blood-soaking pants, bucky sighs. “none of this blood is mine.”

“Get on the table, please. Let me look at you– fuck, are you sure you’re okay?” your practically push him onto a bench, already tearing at his jacket to take a look at your shoulder. Bucky can't help but think under different circumstances he'd enjoy this. Ripping off the fabric and seeing the scars around the metal, all raw and distressed from the pulling.

Bucky winced when your hand grazed above the scars, you instantly recoiled with a slew of apologies. Your gaze lands on the severed arm and crushed metal.

“I'm gonna have to reconstruct an entirely new arm, there's no way I can build off this. Especially since it's a foreign design.” you sigh, a small light clicks and you begin looking up into the wiring. Bucky listens intently, trying to ignore the sharp pain coursing through his shoulder and chest. “I'll need to get you into a chair and probably sedate you so we can remove the rest of it.”

Bucky flinches back from your touch, his breath hitches at your words. “What?”

Between the flashbacks and the mention of the chair, bucky is finding it too easy to fall back into that old mindset. Even the mention of the chair brings back the tingling feeling of electricity coursing through his brain just to break him down, only to attempt to build Bucky into something else. A monster.

You notice bucky’s change in demeanor, the way he curls into himself and closes off from you. You step back and away from his bubble to give him space. “I have to get this done soon, okay?”

Bucky is hesitant in his response, too distracted by the heavy breath as his panic sets in. the room feels too hot and suffocating. He notices the blood on your baby blue dress and bucky over the edge as he looks at you in horror, beginning to mix reality and flashbacks as memories of Hydra shake him to his core.

“Bucky? Talk to me, please. Breathe.” you speak softly, attempting to bring him down from his panic attack.

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, icy blue eyes brimming with tears. Slowly, you bring your hand up to graze against his cheek, giving bucky enough time to reject your touch. He doesn't, slowly bucky leans into it, chasing after your warmth and comfort. His breath starts to steady.

“Bucky?”

Bucky hums in response, “I’m sorry.”

“Please don't apologize.” you sigh. “I just need to get this fixed, and soon.”

Bucky hesitates, “I trust you.” is all he can manage to say.

You nod, making sure Bucky saw your movement. “I won't have anyone do anything to you that you're not comfortable with, yeah?” bucky nods, your hand planted on his shoulder and back; guiding him to an area to get him ready. “I’ll go get some anesthetics for you, make a few calls and we can get started. Just you and me.”

“Just you and me.” bucky repeats under his breath, following you with no hesitation now. His hands shook but his features were more at ease.

Bucky would be okay as long as it was you.

******

Many hours later watching over an unconscious bucky as you worked on totally getting rid of the hunk of metal, and having to reprogram the nerve endings to connect with an entirely new one. You had to rush to get a few messy doodles and designs that you'd done on your own time to be completed, as well as calling a few favors from the Wakandan research center and waiting for the shipment to come from the princess of Wakanda herself, who is also a close friend of yours. And conveniently owed you a few favors.

Helen and Tony offered their help more than enough times but you kept up Bucky's deal, despite how cramped and tired your hands got, just you and him. You had to respect that.

Sam was in surgery and already making good progress. a part of you thanked the timing for Helen being here because she is a far better surgeon than you, you were better with things made of metal or had programming, not human bodies. Sam would not be having as good a recovery under your hands. You were sure Natasha and Steve were doing their rounds to both Bucky and Sam, every 20-30 minutes one of the two would check in on the super soldier. Steve would linger longer with a sympathetic look casting over his face, you didn't mind the company.

Some small part of you grew relieved as you took away the red star from him, knowing his past and some of your own personal run-ins with Hydra. Feeling pride knowing you could give him an arm he'd feel less disgusted with, attempting to tend to his jarring scars that connected man to metal. But some were just too healed to do anything about it.

Bucky lay there for hours, a peaceful look as his features softened making him look a few decades younger. You wondered if this was the longest he’d slept peacefully in a while, no twitching of the eyebrow or jaw indicating a nightmare or waking. He looked happy, younger– your gaze lingered far too long a few times, Natasha having to snap you out of your stares with a snarky comment. Bucky began to resemble the boy in the photos hung around the Captain America exhibit.

Your fingers traced against the gold lines as you finished, feeling the sleek black vibranium against your skin. It was cold, yet to be warmed by bucky's body heat.

Grabbing a bottle of water that sat to the side, one Clint dropped off in the middle of a very intense moment in rewiring the arm to his nerves. Taking a few sips as you stretched your legs and began to clean your area, expecting bucky to wake soon. You'd be here when he woke up.

Until you looked down at yourself and realized you still wore the blue dress with Sam's blood stained all over it, some dripping down to your shoes. A frustrated groan escaped your lips, calling over Steve to watch over Bucky so you could change. Wondering why no one had half the mind to point it out.

You had a small locker reserved for you at the compound, you didn't use it much since you didn't live here. Only a few extra toiletries for overnight jobs and workout clothes, settling on grey sweats and a tight-fitting grey crop top, long sleeves, and an interesting cut-out around the neck and shoulder.

Your steps didn't echo like they would with your heels, slightly startling bucky at the sudden change when you walked into the room. Your eyes met him as he sat across from Steve, flexing and squeezing his vibranium hand. His head perked up once he noticed your presence, you smiled at him to ease any worries as he adjusted to the new arm.

Steve read the tension in the room, smacking his lips. “Well, I'll leave you two for a moment,” he said before slipping past you to leave the room.

“You feel okay?” you asked, instantly coming to Bucky's side.

Bucky looked down wide-eyed at the pitch-black vibranium, his mouth gaping open slightly as watched the panels move and adjust in amazement. “Yeah, different.”

“It should take a little to adjust to the feeling, I tried my best,” you responded quietly.

“Best?” Bucky's eyes met yours, “this is amazing, it looks like a piece of art– like it deserves to be in a museum and not me.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, shying away from bucky. “It deserves to be on you, and I just made the design just for you. The Wakandas produced most of it– which by the way, they have legal ownership of your arm technically since it's vibranium.”

Bucky's eyebrow quirked up. “Is that something I should be worried about?”

“Oh! No, just don't piss them off or they might take it back.” you laughed, bucky smiling along.

“noted.”

“Okay, do the arm thing,” you said, your back sitting up straighter with an amused smile painted across your face. Bucky rolled his eyes and reluctantly did it.

“Anything new I should know about?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Not that I know of, I didn't want to do anything without your permission. I’ll look over the files Shuri sent with it later, you can look them over too.”

“Okay.” bucky nodded, looking back toward his new arm. Running his right hand along the golden ridges on his palm. “It's beautiful really, thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you spoke, sinicerity in your eyes.

Bucky's heart warmed at your reply, trying to bite back his smile; but ultimately failing.

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