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dessarious · 10 months

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Learning to Heal Pt1

So, I know I said I wasn’t going to start posting anything new, and this will probably be extremely slow updating like everything else, and is currently depressing as all get out, but I felt the need to write and post it due to something that happened yesterday. I’ll probably wait to start posing it on AO3 until I have a better idea of where it’s going.

TW pet death (not Titus, don’t worry)

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Marinette sat crying on a random park bench in Gotham. She wasn't even certain which park, to be honest. She'd been wandering around aimlessly for hours beforehand and had finally just dropped. She'd been in Gotham long enough that she didn't think it odd no one had stopped her in her travels to ask what was wrong, but not quite long enough that it didn't hurt.

It was stupid, she knew, to cry over something so small in the grand scheme of things. It was stupid to get so attached to a creature in such a short time that it would affect her this way. It was ridiculous that she even still had the capacity to feel loss after everything she'd been through, but here she was, crying because she'd had to have a stray cat she'd found the day before put down because of a broken back.

She couldn't even imagine what the poor kitten had been though in its short life to have such a rotten end. She had seemed so relieved when Marinette brought her home. Had even seemed to be getting some life back into her, but the next morning, she wouldn't even try to move. Wouldn't eat or drink. She just laid there while Mari tried tempting her with everything she could think of.

The vet had been sympathetic, but told her in no uncertain terms that the poor thing was beyond help. Anything they could try would only prolong its suffering. Mari had signed the papers they'd given her and given them her credit card. She didn't even really remember what she'd agreed to, but she had the receipt in her purse to look at when she calmed down. Assuming that happened.

She was pulled from her misery by a wet nose pushing into her hands. She blinked to clear away some of the tears, and found a dog staring her in the eyes. It was almost as tall as she was sitting, and she reached out to hug it without thought, starting a new wave of sobbing. The dog just sat there, slowly thumping its tail. When she pulled herself together enough to lean back, she scratched the animal behind the ears. That was when she noticed its tag. It had a name and phone number, but nothing else.

"Well, Titus, we should find your human. Animals don't seem to have the best odds when I'm around." Titus just licked her face in response. Poor creature had no idea how much danger he was in. It had started with her partner and just gone downhill from there. Tikki claimed that animals trusted her enough to be there in their final moments, but Mari thought the tiny god was just trying to cheer her up. Every time an animal sought her out, things ended badly.

Before any more tragedy could strike, Marinette pulled out her phone and dialed the number. She waited, but the person didn't pick up. The voice message was just a computerized voice, repeating the number, but still no name. When it beeped, she tried to talk in a clear voice, but there were a few hiccups and she was certain her voice sounded raw.

"Hello. I found your dog Titus... or he found me. We're in a park... uh, I'm not exactly sure which one. Shoot. I'll try to find the entrance and get a name, or at least a street address, and call back." She felt like such an idiot. Who ever it was probably thought she was a lunatic. Guess she was beginning to fit in here after all.

When she stood, Titus heeled without being told. He was certainly well trained, which begged the question of how he ended up with her in the first place. He looked healthy, and she sent out a little prayer that it was just a fluke he'd found her of all people. She walked in the direction she hoped led out of the park.

"Titus!" The voice sounded young, and Titus's tail wagged excitedly even though he didn't leave her side. Mari changed directions.

"Over here!" It only took a moment for her to hear footsteps, and less than a minute before two people rushed into the clearing. The boy looked to be about twelve or thirteen, and the woman with him seemed close to her age. The boy immediately went to scold the dog, but Mari could feel the woman studying her. She'd hoped the rain would hide her tears, but Mari had a feeling she'd notice even if it did.

"Where did you find him?" Mari blinked at the boy in confusion. His tone was accusing. Did that make sense?

"I was sitting on a bench and he just walked up to me." He looked to be about to explode when the woman made some hand gestures to him. It took her far longer than it should have to realize it was probably sign language.

"Cain says you are telling the truth." He grumbled the words reluctantly. "But it is still suspicious." She couldn't really argue with that. A woman alone in the rain, near dark in Gotham, certainly counted as suspicious. The woman signed again. "She wishes to know why you've been crying." Mari cringed, and it caused a flurry of signing between the two before the boy stormed off. Titus followed obediently, but the woman stayed, and after a moment, offered her hand.

"Cass." It took her far longer than she should have to realize she was introducing herself. She really was tired. But the boy called her Cain, she was sure of it. The confused look she shot at his back brought a few more words. "Damian uses last names." She was very deliberate in her speech.

"Oh, I'm Marinette, uh Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's nice to meet you?" She didn't mean to make that a question, and she suddenly remembered the woman's outstretched hand. She reached for it just as Cass was pulling back, which led to this being even more awkward. She should not be so bad at normal human interaction. "I'm glad you found your dog, and I'm sorry about the message."

"Message?" Fantastic. They hadn't heard it yet.

"Um... yeah, I called the number on Titus's collar and left a message. Please feel free to delete it without listening to it." The look she got made her realize how suspicious that sounded. They were going to think she was kidnapping the animal or something. "Anyway, I hope you have a good night." She turned to walk away, mentally cursing at herself.

"Wait." Crap. Mari turned her head to look at the woman warily. Cass reached a hand out like she was going to touch her face, but stopped short. "Pain." She wanted to say more, Mari could see it.

"You have trouble finding the right words too?" She just got a nod, but had a feeling it was far more than that. "I'm fine, really." The frown Cass gave her said she wasn't buying it. Not that she should, but Mari had to wonder how she'd managed to find someone in Gotham who actually seemed to give a shit about a stranger they had no reason to. Cass stepped closer.

"Not okay." Mari felt a laugh bubble up, but it turned into a sob before it even made it out of her body. And once she started, she couldn't stop. At some point, the other woman pulled her into a hug and she just clung to her for dear life. It was nice to have someone to lean on for once.

"You shouldn't encourage such ridiculous behavior. It's unseemly." Damian's judgmental tone caused Mari to burrow in deeper, and Cass tightened her grip.

"Go home." The boy scoffed.

"You're the one holding us up with this disgraceful display." Something close to a growl came out of the woman.

"You. Go home. Now." It wouldn't be until much later that Mari realized Cass was talking to him so she didn't have to let go of the inconsolable wreck she'd turned into. She heard a huff before the boy stormed away.

"He shouldn't be by himself this late." She had enough sense to realize leaving a boy to make his way home alone was a bad idea. Barely.

"He won't be." She hoped she didn't mean Titus, but couldn't bring herself to ask. It had been so long since anyone had just held her that she wanted to stay here, just for a minute. At least, that's what she told herself. "I'll take you home."

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine." The fact that she was still clinging to the woman called her a liar, but it was also best to be cautious with strangers. As nice as Cass had been, Mari had no way of knowing if it would continue, and letting her know where her apartment was could turn out very badly. She didn't think it would, but she wasn't certain she should take that chance.

"Not fine." She braced herself to pull away, but she felt Tikki pinch at her side. Well, if the Kwami thought it was okay...

"Alright." Cass pulled back slightly to pull out her phone and handed it to Mari with the GPS up. She put in her address and Cass scowled when she saw it.

"Across town." Mari wasn't certain if her tone was annoyance or concern.

"Is it? I guess I went farther than I thought. You don't have to worry about it if it's too much of a hassle. I'm sure I can get back on my own." Cass didn't answer, just took her hand and tugged her along the path. Mari was too drained to question it. She led her to a car and Mari finally dug her heels in to stop. She was certain it was more expensive than a year's lease on her apartment. "I'm soaking wet. I don't want to ruin your interior."

Cass gave her a strange look, before ignoring her and gently shoving her in the passenger seat. She tried to make herself as small as possible, but knew it wouldn't do any good. Cass got in and reached over to secure Mari's seatbelt, before buckling hers. She felt her face heat and wasn't certain how much of it was embarrassment, and how much was because someone was actually showing concern for her wellbeing. It was nice.

When Cass pulled into traffic, she wasn't prepared. She was certain it was illegal to be going that fast, and the way she weaved in and out of the other cars was making her nauseous. She didn't want to complain, so she just closed her eyes and prayed they didn't get in an accident. Cass must have noticed because she reached over and took one of her hands. Mari still didn't open her eyes until Cass stopped and turned the car off. It didn't take nearly as long as it should have.

"Thank you for the ride." Mari didn't move to get out and realized she was still clinging to the other woman's hand. She couldn't force herself to let go, though. Cass didn't seem to mind, but Mari knew this wasn't how she'd planned on spending her evening. "I, um... I hope to see you again sometime." She cringed mentally. Smooth Mari, really smooth. Cass handed Mari her phone again, this time with a new contact pulled up. She entered her information without second guessing herself. After she handed it back, Cass typed something, and Mari felt her phone vibrate in her purse. "Thank you."

Mari knew the words weren't adequate. She moved to get out of the car and hoped she didn't imagine Cass' reluctance to let her go. She waved when she reached the front entrance and Cass waved back. Once she got inside, she leaned heavily against the wall, dreading climbing the six stories to her apartment. The elevator in this place had been broken when she moved in for who knows how long and showed no signs of being fixed. So she trudged toward the stairs.

The climb gave her time to think. Too much time. Going over everything that happened in her head made her more and more embarrassed. By the time she got to her apartment, she wanted to disappear. She'd cried on a complete stranger about a cat who she hadn't even had for twenty-four hours. She went out to the balcony to avoid her living room, and was surprised to see Cass still there, leaning against her car. Mari waved sheepishly, but Cass waved back before getting in and driving off. She wasn't certain what the tightness in her chest was for.

She made her way back inside and to her kitchen, careful not to let her eyes wander. She grabbed four bottles of water, knowing she had to be dehydrated by this point. When she was headed to the bedroom, her eyes landed on the couch and she stopped cold. Right in the middle was the blanket she'd made for the kitten. She picked it up with a trembling hand before dropping onto the couch, sobbing again. The Kwami all cuddled against her. She ended up crying herself to sleep.

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Plagg watched over the Guardian, as the others all slept with her, so he was the only one to see the vigilante make an appearance on the balcony. He watched her inner struggle as she reached for the door and stopped herself. She ended up pressing her head to the glass before taking off to another building. Interesting.

#tw pet death #pet death #marinette dupain cheng #cassandra cain #Damian Wayne #titus #maribat

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 months

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So This is Love

Day 15 of 2019′s 31 Days of Ficmas Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the prompt list! Prompt: love Rating: M (nsfw) Pairing: 10xRose (AU) Summary: A Cosier With You fic. A year after taking their relationship from mutual pining to madly in love, Rose and James discuss next steps. Based on this: https://www.tumblr.com/memeuplift/728565011847544832 2019 31 Days of Ficmas masterlist Cosier With You Masterlist AO3

“So, is this our first or second Christmas together?" Rose asked from her spot on the couch, curled beneath a soft throw with a mug of cocoa, relaxing after hanging most of the ornaments on his tree and enjoying the Winter Wonderland they’d transformed his flat into.

Stretching to put the star on top of the tree, James shot her a look. “When’s our anniversary?”

“Good question.” She licked her lips, focusing on the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt rode up. “I mean, Christmas Eve, I guess. First date, said I love you, shagged. Pretty much hit all the benchmarks on day one, right?”

“Fair.” He stepped back from the tree towards her as he studied it, hands on his hips. “What d’you think, is it good?”

She took a snap of him with her mobile, enchanted with the way the lights of the tree framed him before focusing on his question. “Yeah, good from here.”

“Good.” He threw himself onto the couch next to her, laughing when she yelped. “As for the anniversary question… we could say the twentieth, as that’s when I actually asked you out. Gives it a little breathing room from the holiday.” Stealing a sip of her cocoa, he waggled his eyebrows.

“It’s only December 3rd, so we’ve got some time to decide,” Rose shrugged, smiling and wiping away a bit of whipped cream that stuck to his lip. With the fire crackling merrily, and most of the light coming from it and the tree, it was a properly cozy and romantic setting. “Maybe the twentieth is a good idea – we’d never be able to celebrate day-of if we said Christmas Eve.”

They met in the middle for a sweet kiss, and she liked how he tasted of peppermint and chocolate.

“Just let me know what you prefer,” he murmured when they separated. “So I can plan accordingly. For now, though, how’s takeaway sound?”

“Perfect. Your turn to pay, though.”

James made a face but acquiesced, passing over his mobile with doordash already open. “Pizza or curry?”

“Mhmm… pizza,” she quickly found their favorite place, ordering their usual. “I like that we can just say ‘pizza’ and we already know exactly what to order and from where.”

“Me too- oh, can you add on extra cheesy bread?”

Grinning Rose just turned the screen to face him, showing she’d already done just that. “Get out of my head.”

He laughed, digging his fingers into her side and making her squeal. “C’mere.”

She fell into him, still holding the mobile. “Hang on, let me make sure you got the confirmation – I’m still annoyed about last time, that it didn’t go through. Nothing worse than waiting on food that’s not coming.” They looked at the screen together as she navigated to his email, clicking somewhat blindly on the first message with a subject of Order Confirmation.

And then froze when instead of the expected receipt, a generic graphic of a diamond ring turning came up under a banner reading Congratulations, your order has shipped!

Holy shit. That’s an engagement ring.

James had gone very still next to her; she wasn’t sure he was even breathing, and in a split-second decision, she backed out to his inbox and found the right email.

“Looks like forty minutes until delivery,” she commented, tone deliberately light. “We should try to straighten up before that – it looks like a Christmas bomb went off in here.”

“Okay.”

She pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering a moment too long to be a peck, before getting to work.

They managed to get the unused lights back into the storage bins before catching each other’s eye, and a shared smile quickly grew into giggles until she was leaning against him.

“Why are we laughing?” he asked, chuckling all the while, and she started dumping the extra decorations on top of the lights.

“I don’t know.”

She looked up to find him smiling widely. “But you do know.”

Rose beamed back at him, tears pricking at her eyes as they just looked at each other with soft smiles.

The doorbell interrupted their moony eyes, James breaking for the door while Rose set the table, and they were soon seated quietly side by side, pressed together from ankle to hip with the food arrayed in front of them.

“So…” Rose focused on separating her slice from the rest of the pizza, carefully pulling apart the stubborn bits of cheese. “Is it here?”

He went still for a moment, before wiping his mouth. “Yep.”

“Is it hidden?” She looked over at him, nibbling on the end of the slice, heart thumping as he nodded, holding her gaze. “Can we play hot or cold with it?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he said firmly, making her laugh. “Do- should- I mean… is this something we need to… have a conversation about?”

Rose gave an overexaggerated shrug. “I mean, I haven’t run screaming…” she teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Well, where should my expectations be? Is this part of the anniversary conversation?”

He shifted in his chair, an uncomfortable expression on his face, making her heart fall slightly. “Uh, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know if we’re there yet.”

Her brow furrowed, back straightening as she put the pizza down. “You bought the ring, have it hidden as we speak, but you don’t know if we’re there yet?” It took effort to keep her tone even. “I mean, I don’t necessarily disagree, but… you bought the ring.”

“Rose-” James pushed back from the table a bit, turning to face her and taking her hand. “That’s where this is going. For me, at least, it has from the beginning. I want to be ready for when we’re ready, but… we don’t even live together yet. And… I was gonna ask you at Christmas, but to be honest, that’s all I was going to ask you. To move in with me. Or I move in with you. Or we move in together in a brand-new place, if that’s what you want.” He exhaled. “To me, we’re still laying the foundation. But I’ve got designs clear up to the sky.”

“Me too,” she said softly, caressing his face with her free hand, memorizing it in this moment. “I want everything with you, and this last year has only confirmed that. I want to savor these steps, and when you ask me, I’m going to say yes. You know that, don’t you?”

He nodded, leaning in for a kiss but hesitating at the last moment. “When I ask you to move in, or-”

“Both.” Sliding her hand around his neck she pulled him close, and they kissed softly, broken by shared giggles.

When they finally pulled apart and returned to their now-cold pizza, Rose grinned at him. “I think it’s so cool that it’s here. It’s literally in the flat with us and I have no idea where. Does feel a little unfair that I don’t get to wear it, though,” she stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Don’t you want me to try it on at least, make sure it fits?”

“Who says you haven’t?” he challenged, taking a long sip of his wine. “You sleep like the dead, and it’s been here for a few weeks. Can you be sure it hasn’t been on your finger, yet?”

The idea was thrilling, and her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. “You got any proof?”

He just shrugged, eyes mischievous. “You know, when you first found that email I was so mad that the surprise is ruined, but thinking about it, this could be a lot of fun. You’ll never know if it’s the moment or not. Every time I take your hand, or stop to tie my shoe, or tell you I love you… just for a second, you won’t know if it’s the moment or not. I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

“So you want to spend the holidays waging psychological warfare on me?” she asked, amused. “Nice.”

“Warfare? No. The occasional skirmish… maybe,” he teased. “And since you already know I’m not going to ask for real yet, it would be more accurate to say it was against our families, wouldn’t you?”

Rose’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you planning on fake-proposing to me in front of either of our families? I don’t think that’s going to end well for you. Your Mum and Donna are still extremely salty that you lied to them about us, and God help you if you toy with my mum like that, because I certainly won’t.”

She loved many things about his face, but the expression he wore now (stumped befuddlement) only came when she outfoxed him and was a particular favorite of hers. It was also extremely kissable, so she gave into the urge, leaning forward to nip at his pouting bottom lip, smiling against his mouth when he kissed back.

As the food cooled on the plates the heat between them grew until she was in his lap, the desire for food replaced by a need for a different kind of sustenance until he stood carefully, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her to bed.

Flopping back onto the mattress she watched with interest as he pulled his shirt off, before glancing around the room. “Is it in here?”

“Is what here?” James started on his belt, before pausing. “I told you, we’re not doing hot and cold, or anything similar. And if I’m honest – playing cat and mouse about this is not going to encourage me to give it to you faster. Possibly the opposite.”

Her offense at the implication only lasted a moment. “I’m only teasing,” Rose said softly, coming up on her knees to meet him at the end of the bed. “I’m excited and anxious, but there’s no pressure. I won’t go digging, I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as they held each other’s gaze. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart. In fact, if there’s anywhere I should stay away from, you could tell me.”

Her innocent look didn’t fool him; he just rolled his eyes and reached for the hem of her dress, tugging it up. “Note to self, rent a safety deposit box in the morning.”

“No, no,” she protested once the dress was over her head, resting her hands on his chest. “I triple promise that I won’t go looking. But if you get to pretend you’re going to propose, I get to pretend I’m gonna dig through your drawers at every possible opportunity. ‘S only fair.”

“I can live with that,” he agreed with a shrug. “Really, you’d only be ruining it for yourself, after all. But if you want to dig through drawers, I have a place you can start,” he guided her hands towards the zip of his jeans.

“Funny man,” she murmured, leaning up to kiss him as she freed him from the heavy fabric, pushing the jeans and his boxers down over his hips.

They didn’t need words after that.

Limbs deliciously heavy Rose relaxed into the mattress, pleasure still humming through her veins as James panted into her neck.

“Yes.”

“Hmm?” She trailed her fingernails along his spine, delighting in the way he shivered against her at the touch.

He raised his head to meet her gaze, eyes still heavy-lidded. “Yes, it’s in this room.”

A giddy smile spread across her face, and they giggled together for a moment before she stopped abruptly.

“Just, do me one favor.”

“Name it.” He dipped his head to press kisses along her collar bone and top of her breasts.

“Oi.” She guided his chin up so their eyes met again. “I don’t need a fancy proposal. I don’t need the Eiffel Tower at midnight, or something overly orchestrated. I just want it to be you, and me, and genuine. My only requirement is – if we took a picture of us three seconds after you ask and I say yes, I want to be able to show that picture to people.”

James’ brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“I mean, don’t ask me in bed. Or when we’re in pajamas and look a mess. Or immediately before, during, or after sex. It doesn’t have to picture perfect, but when people ask how’d he pop the question, I want to be able to tell the story without blushing. I don’t care if it’s… I dunno, out on a walk, or some great romantic jaunt that you’ve planned. I just care that you’re ready to ask, and that we’re fully dressed.”

He pushed himself upright and she followed so they were sitting almost nose to nose, James back on his haunches between her legs. “I’m not sure how to feel about your standards being so low,” he said dryly. “Look, I can’t promise the question won’t slip out occasionally- I’m actually really proud of myself that it hasn’t yet- but I can promise that when I give you the ring, it will be under respectable circumstances.”

“You can ask me as many times as you like,” she grinned, cupping his cheek with her palm. “Under any circumstances. How about this – when it’s the real one, you take a knee. If you ask and you’re not on one knee, I’ll know not to expect a ring – this way there’s no misunderstandings about whether it’s it or not.”

“I can do that.” His eyes were shining, and he pushed her hair back behind her ears before moving back over her, forcing her onto her back again. One hand bracing himself he slid the other down her side to her knee, guiding it up to wrap around her hip. “Rose?”

“Yeah?” She didn’t dare close her eyes but savored his touch until he looked up at her again.

“Will you marry me?”

They went still, the words hanging in the air as tears pricked at her eyes. “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” They met in a bruising kiss, joyous laughter forcing them apart.

“God, that felt good to say,” he sighed, beaming down at her. “I’ve been holding that in for… a while.”

She matched his grin, running her hands over his shoulders and arms. “It was good to hear, and better to answer. I’m looking forward to the real thing.”

“Me too.”

They shared another lingering kiss, instinct taking over as their bodies began to move, wiping away all thoughts in Rose’s head but one.

I love this man, and can’t wait to marry him.

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #31 days of ficmas #ficandchips #doctor who #10xRose #10!AUxRose #10th Doctor #Rose Tyler #So This is Love #Cosier With You

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goodbyeapathy8 · 22 days

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4, 16, and 25 for the weird questions for writers?

Ask Me Game 4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral? - Oooh...... so many!!!! Ok then I got sidetracked so I'm back with an actual word lmaooooo (story of my life). It's a weird one but words like chastened. I find that, as a multilingual, English is one of the languages that do a piss poor job at describing emotions and personalities. Chastened is a word that comes quite close to describing the "look" of a character to me, especially "sufficiently chastened". It's like... someone was scolded and they're now feeling slightly sheepish and a bit sorry for themselves and yet not having to verbalize it. The writer can put in "chastened" and I feel like it describes so many things with the one word. If that all makes sense! 16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark? - If we're talking AO3 bookmarks? tags? nothing because I tend to not leave much commentary there. For physical bookmarks though... I guess a receipt? I actually don't use bookmarks when I read physical books. Although it's wonky lately (because of my trauma), I have a photographic memory. I tend to remember where in the book I left off and I'm usually able to find it without noting it (I remember where in the paragraph I stopped reading as well as the general "spot" in the book). It came in pretty handy when I was an English lit major lol None of my books had tabs or bookmarks in them because of this.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story? (answered in previous post so if you'd like to choose another q, feel free to!)

Ooooh there are so many that are actually relevant to my stories so... hard to choose lol I try to make hyper-specific details be relevant (because it's one of my Autism things). For the most part, I model Kinn's character over a typical corporate employee. It never really comes up (unless it's my Locked In fic, which is specifically set in a corporate background). I think of his character as very set and strict and very much always "for the good of the corporation" which honestly... mafia... corporations... can't tell the difference these days LOL

#ao3 writer #ask me game #ask me anything

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afaramir · 4 months

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for the ao3 wrapped!! 1, 6, 28! (also you are not alone in believing you can finish one more thing. i am also doing that :P)

happy (newly i guess, for u!) new year anna!!! waving at u NOT from the google doc! we did it! we finished the one more thing! [ao3 wrapped]

1. How many words have you written this year?

nearly 14k (13,924 to be exact) published and at least 6-7k more of wips! tragically my least prolific year since uhhhhhhhh a long time. 2017? but thats ok it was a hard year all that matters is that i survived<3 im proud of myself for what i did bc im in that kinda moment where im relearning how to write and reengaging the creative part of my brain. and next year will be better!! i have a lot of plans and a wip list as long as a cvs receipt<33

6. Favorite title you used

this one is actually your body drowning in gravity! i havent reread it in a long long while (aside: wow i was a totally different person when i wrote that (i published it jan 3)) bc my brain has temporarily been caught by other things. but it was an idea that i'd been turning over in my head for over a year at the time when i wrote it and i think i saw the richard siken poem that the title is from (it's "the dislocated room" btw) on my dash in the middle of the writing process and it was like. Perfect. like i choose all my titles very carefully but this one really knocks it out of the park. when the fic is literally about tanner thinking mallory is the one that's fallen from the top of the cns building at the end of spectre and not knowing until the body hits the ground.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

OUGHHH this is hard. Ough. ok i DO think it's just so long as this thing's loaded. im chronically an "i wrote this for me but you can read it if you want" guy bc i have rarepair disease. if i want to read it i have to be the one to write it. but this fic was really an exercise in like. getting weird with it. remembering that u cannot judge ur creation by any possible bad faith interpretation of it. letting myself write the kind of wildly unhinged horny possessive devotion that eats the inside of my brain but ive never been able to put on the page bc of the Fear of like ohhh that would be sooo bad in real life. dude theyre. not real. idk im not good at that sort of thing the panopticon inside my mind is sometimes kind of crazy. but like yeah actually they do think the power dynamic is hot. yeah nick made jasper fake betraying him obviously here is this situation where jasper comes back to nick after his faked death and both of them are pretending not to know the betrayal wasn't real. its just roleplay 2 them. sorry to quote a line in this already extremely long answer but like "The only thing he wants to keep is right here at his side and hasn’t that been the point of all of this, the knife to his throat and the blood in his kiss and the slow simmer of barely leashed desire. Jasper has come to him like this, the traitor slinking his guilty way home, to show Nick the lengths to which he would go for him. To which he has always gone for him, giving up everything to play Nick’s triple agent, just what the Director ordered." is literally the thesis statement of the whole thing. Anyway

also its the kind of fic where every line is trying to be The Line which...is a quirk of my writing style that comes out every now and then that im usually (for good reason tbh) always trying to cut back on. but this...Needed It. sometimes the prose DOES need to be purple. and i had fun. it was really fun dude lol i had a great time

#from the inbox #potatoesandsunshine #this is sooooo long sorry #i just love 2 talk about my fic.....#my writing

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toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter seven. opening up, inside and out.

Summary: Wilbur joins you on a late drive and knows you better, finding out just how fast he is becoming attached to you.

ao3 link. ~2.1k words. masterlist.

---

he’s sitting outside, on the curb when you pull up in a compact car, music pulsing through the speakers and when you roll down the window, the volume too, and smile at him with half-awake eyes, he’s up in an instant, heart racing when he thinks back to just moments before.

to the moments when he doubted the continuity of your friendship, where he was so resolute that you would abandon him once he would become comfortable, once he showed himself to you completely.

you don’t give him a chance to think that again as you leaned over and gestured for him to get in, “it’s cold wilbur, get in,” you chortled as he scrambled to his feet, as if he forgot to move for a second. giving the door a solid shut, he rolled the window up and moved the seat back a little, feeling more awkward than the cold you had warned him about outside.

“thanks for coming with me, will, i was going nuts with how quiet it is.” you offered little more than turning up the music as you pulled into the street.

“is there something... troubling you?” he asks, keeping on the dim light on the road, the sparse cars that pass them by.

you exhale deeply, eyes trained on staying in the painted lines on the road. “doing this cover and its responsibilities have dawned on me, and trying to figure out if this will be worth it- worth scheduling weeks, maybe months of time to even reach maybe the first two minutes, with our own two parts. maybe we should think about making it simpler, narrow it down to a piano and vocal duet, or a single guitar and-” you cut yourself off, pulling into the lot of a closed-down store, one of the few in this college-centric town.

“is that what you want to do?” you turn to him, your face sullen and eyes wandering over his figure, like he didn’t need to show himself at all, and that you saw him as he is already. and you had no qualms about what you saw.

“no, i don’t want just a simple cover, done in three sessions and- and have not a single drop of substance behind it. i want to feel the love sewn into frequencies every time i listen to it, i want to feel-”

you cut yourself off before smiling at him, “i want to feel alive when i hear it, because i know that’s how good it could be.” you trail off, looking out towards the windshield. “and i’ve only felt truly alive when making music, alive in a way that is beyond the pulse of my beating heart, you understand that, don’t you?” he stares into your face and finds it.

he sees you, bearing your true intentions behind this project. he wonders if you’re trying to share this intimate experience you feel with music with him.

he wonders how special you find him to want to share such a thing with him only.

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt it.” he admits.

“not even when you wrote your songs?” you question, head tilting to lie against the headrest.

he shakes his head, “i wrote those songs to help me cope with my life, something i didn’t understand at the time.” he wonders if you’re trying to do the same.

“i could show you, if you want, but fair warning, you’ll get addicted to the feeling.” you joke, and he smiles, but he knows you’re serious in the offer. with this cover, you’ll probably show him something he won’t forget for as long as he lives. it’s curious to see if he’ll survive it. “well- now that’s off my chest, how about some early morning mcdonald’s?” you say, as if trying to cut the thick layer of intimate honesty about oneself into diced cubes.

he blinks but you’re already driving to the closest mcdonald’s before he has a chance to respond. and you’re reaching into the cup holders, holding out your phone to him and telling him a pass-code. “play some music, it’s connected to the bluetooth already. or a podcast, though you don’t seem like the guy to listen to podcasts to me,” you speak and you’re giving him a quick grin before turning back to the road.

his heartbeat quickens when holding your phone, knowing your pass-code and knowing you have this solid trust in him to have given both to him. even if you didn’t know he has had thoughts that are dark in nature, it was.. exciting to say the least, he would almost say heartwarming.

but he does what you’ve asked of him, opening up the green music app and typing in the name of a song he thinks you might like.

though, when it plays out in the speakers, you spare him a glance. “you like sleeping at last?” speaking as though you were leaning towards dislike.

“is it- is it bad?”

you clicked your tongue, “not bad, just-” you hum, giving a soft laugh, “-just curious, didn’t think you’d like them, is all. we’re still new to each other, and yet, it feels like we’re old friends reconnecting.”

“you’re a big part of that, to be fair.” he folds his arms and tucked his back adjacent to the window and seat, turning to look at you fully.

you shrug, pulling into the parking lot and into the drive-thru. turning the music down as you rolled the window down, you give him a short look and he is turning his eyes on the painstakingly bright menu.

telling you what he wanted, you nod, and talk to the exhausted employee over the speaker about y’all’s order, pulling up into the second window.

reaching towards the back you are surprised to see will holding out a card towards you, you meant to deny it but he nudges it in your hands, and you just hand it towards the employee. the next few minutes are quiet, waiting for the food and handling both it and the drinks towards the passenger, passing the receipt and card back to the owner, and you drive off.

finding another empty lot, with a little less buildings in the area, you two begin to eat in the quiet of the night, sleeping at last smoothing out the edges.

when you crumple the wrapper in a ball, and toss it in the bag, you turn to face will yourself.

he faces you too when he’s done, trying not to show how the intensity of your stare is affecting him. “can i help you?” he asks, turning his gaze to the time. 2:47.

“this is the longest time we’ve spent talking to each other, and i realize you have a nice voice speaking as well as singing.” his mouth opens a little bit and his skin heats up more than any properly working heater.

“thank you- i guess?” he’s confused, he knows that, it’s on what he’s flustered about is the confusing part. is it the fact no one told him he has a nice voice, generally? is it the fact that it’s late and you must be focusing hard on his voice to stay awake? or is it the fact that you’re looking past his defenses once more and seeing him as he is? your honor, he’ll say it’s probably all three.

“you’re welcome.” and that’s when he focuses on you. you’re wearing his beanie, his jacket, and some shorts that ride up your thighs. and as you turn your gaze to your phone, turning it on to change the song probably, he glances at your collarbone. bare, save for his jacket. were you only wearing his jacket on your torso?

picturing you without it was already a bad idea, but imagining what he’d do to you like that- he moves his head forcibly, staring out into the darkness.

“do you want to go home or do you want to come over? rosie won’t mind you being there as long as we’re quiet because i don’t know what it is about you but-” you yawn, covering your face, “-i’m getting too tired to drive but you’ve only just gotten here, so, whatever you decide is pretty good with me.”

he thinks about going home alone, and slipping under the cold and unkind covers, shivering till the blankets warmed. and then he thinks about going home with you, and possibly sleeping on the too small of a couch for him and you there with your comfortable, soft ambiance. thinks about rosie waking the two of you up in the morning in her pajamas, making or picking breakfast up.

and he offers to drive for you, leaving you to doze off in the passenger side with piano notes trailing off in your ear.

~~~

parking in front of the dorm building, he leans over to shake your shoulder only to falter in his movements, your hunched over figure leaning against the window and your breath fogs the glass.

then you’re stirring awake, and you’re blinking the sleep away from your eyes and you’re looking right at him, for the third time, and he doesn’t know if he should be endeared by it or frustrated on how you can see him so easily.

but he’s turning the car off and walking around your car to open the door, helping you out and letting you lean on him for a second, never mind his skin itching to burn. you two walk to your dorm, unlocking it in the silent hallway.

the door creaks slightly as you push it open and aside, “you can have the couch or the bed, i’m too tired to care,” you walk to the kitchen and you open the doors to find something to drink, will recognizes it as an apple juice container. “though, you should try my bed, it’s too good to be true,” seeing will’s face you wave at him to follow you, though your movements sluggish, you prove you’re still conscious.

pushing your bedroom door open, he finds the papers from earlier stacked and he finds you hopping up onto your bed, with the apple juice between your legs and you patting the space next to you. he doesn’t make nearly the amount of effort you put in to sit beside you, and he begins to regulate his breathing to calm down, being near anybody really would put someone like him in a tizzy, he rationalizes.

“after i finish this, i’m going to pass out, you can do the same wherever.” and in a much more alarming speed, you chug the half-full container and cover your mouth when you’re done, giving a slight burp. “and i won’t say i told you so,” your lips lift up as if you meant to smile briefly but you were too tired to commit to the action.

leaning over to put the jug on the desk, you are left with shuffling in your spot until you’re covered by your blanket with your feet underneath will’s legs.

“night, wilbur, see ya in the morning,” you mumble to yourself mostly, but he hears you and he mumbles something similar, leaning his head against your wall and arguing with himself internally.

he has a chance, now.

when he looks straight at the dresser, he can see the camera, almost tauntingly.

though what sends chills down his spine isn’t your cold, uncovered feet touching him, no it’s the fact that the things he moved to cover the device, they’re gone and it’s almost noticeable.

it wouldn’t be hard to miss and it’s the fact that if he does take his chance and move it, you’ll know it was him. know that he was the one to put it there and take it away.

and then you’ll hate him, cut him off, take him away from the project, keep rosie away from him, and so much more. and nights like these won’t happen ever again. he won’t get these quiet moments with you, won’t get to appreciate a person like you.

so as he leaves to grab a blanket from the linen closet, and pads his way to your room, he decides that he’ll leave the cameras there, and he’ll take his chances.

maybe in a few months he can take it and put this whole thing behind you two, maybe you never even noticed it.

whatever happens later, he thinks, at least he had this night with you, tucking himself under the blanket and curling just nearly against you, and he feels at home next to you.

is that what you are, though? home? he wonders as he listens to your breathing for a few minutes, thinking that’s what you’d had to be. so open, so warm, and so comfortable to be around.

even if you hadn’t meant for it to happen, wilbur was swiftly becoming dependent, some would say addicted, to you and everything you’ve offered him.

but that would be a problem for a future will.

for now, he would sleep. and he would do it next to you. his worries can set themselves aside for a few hours.

...

tag list: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @marinaloveswomen @roygbivp @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0

the tag list is currently open!!

#c: simpbur #simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #mcyt au #au: band #au: college #and i'd give up forever to touch you fic

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nebulous-frog · 2 years

Text

As you are

Relationships: JonMartin (pre-relationship)

Summary: Jon has lost so much, but maybe that's not what defines him.

Word Count: 821

Written for @jonmartinweek Day 6: Lost and Found

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

When Jon wakes up from his coma, he has nothing. His belongings from before the Unknowing had already dwindled thanks to his stint as a murder suspect on the run and his travels all across America, but now Basira says what little he’d had in the Archives has gone to charity shops. Even what he’d had with him during the Unknowing was gone, lost in the explosion and the aftermath.

Now, returning to the Archives, he knows he’s lost even more- Martin, who apparently is now working for the very entity of isolation, and Tim, who he probably had lost long before the Unknowing.

The Institute had continued paying him during his coma, thankfully. The one thing the Institute does right by their employees is paid time off for injuries sustained during on-the-job apocalypse prevention. With the money, Jon is able to purchase some essentials to replace his phone, clothes, and toiletries. He’s never been one for luxuries, really, but especially not now. It all just seems rather pointless.

And so he continues on, getting right back to work. What else can he do? He quite literally doesn’t have any options. He desperately tries to get his footing after everything, always hoping Martin will finally just talk to him again.

A month after his return, long after he’d given up on Martin initiating any contact, he receives a small package on his desk along with a note:

I know you lost your old one and, knowing you, you haven’t bothered to replace it. I think this is the same as the other one, but if not- or if you don’t like it- there’s a gift receipt. You’re still Jon. -MKB

Jon’s eyes well up with tears. It doesn’t exactly sound like Martin- it’s too short and doesn’t even have an exclamation point- but at the same time, Jon can practically hear Martin saying it to him. God, he misses him.

After a moment, Jon sniffs, regains his composure, and turns his attention to the package.

It’s a black box, small, clearly a ring box. Jon opens it and gasps. Inside is a thin black band, no frills or decoration. Reverently, he lifts it from the box and slides it onto his left middle finger and chokes back a sob when it fits perfectly.

What feels like a lifetime ago, he’d told Martin he was asexual. Martin had been re-wrapping Jon’s burnt hand for him, listening oh so attentively, as Jon stumbled through his explanation and finally got to the point. “Given the position of the burn, I can’t wear my ace ring anymore,” he had said in a resigned sigh. “It’s supposed to be a black ring on the right middle finger, but it hurts to even try putting it on. I doubt the scarring will ever allow for it.” Jon breathed in a measured, careful breath, trying to hold back tears. He hadn’t realized this upset him so much. “It’s just-” he huffed, then started again. “My- choices, my life, my well-being, it’s all been- taken. Lost. And now- something so core to who I am, something the monsters can’t change or cut or burn out of me- it’s. It’s still here, but it feels like it’s gone when I can’t wear the ring.”

Martin hummed sympathetically as he finished the wrappings. “I’m sorry, Jon.”

Jon sighed. “It’s- it’s not your fault. But thank you, Martin.”

Martin nodded. “Sorry if I’m- if I’m overstepping, or showing how little I know about this, but- what if you wore it on the other hand?”

Jon blinked, then swiped his unburnt hand over one eye, catching what would’ve otherwise been a tear. “That’s the wrong hand, though.”

“Well- yes, traditionally it sounds like it is. But is it all about the hand, or is it about the ring?”

“I- I guess it’s more… symbolic,” Jon muttered, brow furrowed as he thought. “And it’s just for me, not someone else.”

“Plus, as you say, you feel like your choices have been dictated to you. Your asexuality is still a part of you, you’re still Jon, even without the ring at all, but you can choose how that looks in your life.”

Jon nodded slowly, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his ring. He played with it in his palm for a moment, deep in thought as Martin packed away the first aid kit. Finally, he slipped it on his left middle finger and smiled faintly

“Still Jon,” he whispered to himself.

In the present, Jon clenched his left hand into a fist and wrapped the other around it, gently stroking the ring with his thumb.

He’d lost so much and was certain to lose more. Maybe this ring Martin must have searched for for ages would be lost, too, and maybe Martin would be lost completely soon. But Jon was still Jon, and he wouldn’t let anything else go without a fight.

#tma #jmart #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin week 2022

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phantasmagoric-acquaintance · 3 years

Text

who said anything about marriage

[read it here or on ao3]

Barry was nervous.

That was nothing new. Barry was nervous most of the time. But Barry hadn’t been nervous around Lup in decades.

There were so many things that could go wrong. For one, he could lose the ring. For the millionth time in the past half hour, he patted the outside of his jacket pocket. He felt the little box and exhaled quietly.

He could screw up the plan. They’d already made it to the restaurant on time, thank the Gods. But what if they missed the gondola ride? He’d booked the damned thing in advance, and if the rules he’d read online were any indication, the company didn’t give latecomers a whole lot of leeway. He could pop the question on the streets next to the canal, he supposed, but that was unromantic. Plus, he’d pre-paid so much for the ride.

And what if he fell? He’d made himself sick the night before reading articles about mistakes to avoid on a gondola. He knew not to try to stand, but what if he forgot? He could tip the boat and soak them both.

“Um, babe?”

Lup’s voice brought Barry out of his anxious reverie, and he remembered he’d been pouring a glass of wine, which was now very close to overflowing. “Aah!” He hastily righted the bottle, hitting the mouth against the overfilled glass in the process and very nearly knocking it over.

Lup snickered, eyes glinting with amusement. “You are a wreck,” she said as she lifted her own wine glass to her lips. There wasn’t a hint of malice in her voice or in her expression. Barry remembered that he’d probably embarrassed himself in front of her thousands of times, and she still loved him. As the waiter came by to take their orders, Barry felt himself relaxing.

That calm moment was short-lived.

When the waiter turned away from their table, Lup propped her elbows up on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “Hey, Bear?”

“Mm-hm?” Barry vocalized, sipping from his comically full wine glass.

“When are we gonna get married?”

Barry sputtered, spitting a little wine back into his glass and trying not to choke on the rest of it. “Huh?!?” Had she figured out his plan? She was clever, and he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, but he thought he’d done a good job of keeping it from her. He’d known better, too, than to tell anyone expect Taako. Did she get it out of him?

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, don’t freak out or anything. It’s just, you know, we’ve been together for, like, I don’t know, an entire human lifespan?” She shifted her chin so that it rested only on her left palm and reached for her glass with her free hand. “I mean, we’re pretty much already married. I just thought, I dunno, maybe we should make it official.”

If Barry had been thinking, he might’ve told her “Yes! Gods, yes!” right then and there. He might’ve pulled out the ring and said, “Funny you should ask, I was thinking the same thing!” If he had been thinking, he might have realized that this moment, right here in the restaurant, was the perfect opportunity to do what he’d set out to do this evening.

But Barry wasn’t thinking. Barry was panicking.

“M-marriage? Who said anything about marriage?”

Lup set her left arm back down on the table. “Huh? Nobody said anything about it. Or, I guess I did.” She looked down at her glass and swirled it around a bit. “Geez, Barry, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I knew it’d make you all, like, panicky and sweaty and shit.”

“I-I’m not panicky and sweaty.” He was very obviously both of these things. It was this moment that the waiter came by, awkwardly setting their plates in front of them and hurrying off, sensing that whatever was happening here, it was definitely not something he wanted to be privy to any longer than necessary. “Y-you just caught me off guard, that’s all. Marriage is, you know, a big word.”

“Well, sure.” Lup picked up a fork and began swirling it in her pasta. “But, like, haven’t you thought about it before?” She lifted the fork to her mouth.

“Thought about marrying you?” Barry was drenched in sweat now.

“Mm-hm,” Lup managed through a mouthful of linguini.

“Well, no, I mean, why would I?”

This was absolutely, positively, the wrong thing to say. It might have been the worst possible thing Barry could’ve said, and he’d said it, and he couldn't take it back.

Lup swallowed her food hard and gaped at him. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Uhh…” He took a long sip of his wine.

“What do you mean, ‘Why would I?’?”

The pressure was on now, and Barry tended to falter under pressure. “I just, I mean, marriage is, it’s such a long-term commitment, you know? It, uh, ties you down and stuff.”

Lup’s eyes went even wider. “Barry, what are you trying to say?” she asked softly.

Barry threw his hands up. “Nothing! I- nothing! Just, you’re such a, a free spirit, I, uh, wouldn’t wanna… hold you back?”

She deflated, and he knew he’d dug himself deeper. “Yeah, okay.” She put her elbow back on the table, making a fist with her left hand and resting her cheekbone on her knuckles, and looked down at her plate.

Silence. Barry cut off a bit of his salmon and ate it. “Mmm!” he hummed exaggeratedly. “The salmon is amazing! How’s your food?”

Lup pushed her noodles around on her plate, not looking up. “It’s fine. Fantastic.”

They stayed like that for a while, him slowly eating his food and watching her, her only taking small occasional bites and refusing to look anywhere but her plate.

“Um, are… are you ready for the check?” Barry asked after some time.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Whenever.” Lup stood. “Just, like, excuse me for a minute first.” She walked quickly towards the restroom.

When the door closed behind her, Barry sighed and sunk his face into his hands. He didn’t have the slightest idea how he was going to recover. “Fuck,” he breathed into his hands.

After a minute, Barry heard the sound of footsteps, distinct from the clicking of Lup’s heels, approach the table. “Barold.”

He lifted his head to see Taako, still in his full chef’s uniform, glaring at him, arms crossed. Fuck, he was really in trouble now. “Hi, Taako.” In retrospect, maybe it was a mistake to have this dinner at Lup’s brother’s restaurant. It had seemed like a sweet idea at the time. Taako had only recently gotten comfortable cooking for large crowds again, and he and Lup made efforts to support him when they could.

Taako leveled a glare at Barry. “One of my little birdies has just informed me that she saw my sister run crying into the bathroom. Would you, dear customer, mind telling me why that is?”

Barry exhaled, long and slow. “I beefed it, Taako.”

“You beefed it? What does that mean, exactly?”

“Okay, she brought up marriage out of nowhere and it threw me off and I didn’t want to spoil the proposal and I panicked and maybe I said some things I didn’t mean.”

“Such as…?”

“Such as… ‘I’ve never thought about marrying you,’ and ‘Marriage ties people down’…”

“Oh, good Gods. All because you didn’t wanna spoil some dumb overly romantic surprise?”

Barry flushed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Barry, I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to have this fixed by the end of tonight.”

Barry grimaced. “I-I’ll try.”

“You’ve also wasted my food.” Taako nodded at Lup’s mostly-untouched plate and tossed a leather check holder onto the table. “And if I find any fire damage in my bathroom, I’m charging you for that, too.” With that, Taako turned and strode back into the kitchen.

By the time Lup came out of the bathroom, Barry’s credit card had already been returned to him and he was signing the receipt. He looked up at her and tried not to wince when he noticed the mascara tracks marking paths down her cheeks from her puffy eyes. “Ready to go?”

“Mm.” She still wouldn’t look at him. He led her outside, and she leaned against the building, hugging herself and staring into space, eyes unfocused.

Barry stood next to her uneasily. “Uh, I’m going to… call the taxi now?”

“Mm-hm.”

Barry didn’t reach for his phone. Another uncomfortable silence passed.

Then, he sighed. “Okay, I-I didn’t wanna do it like this, but…”

Barry knelt down, pulled the ring box out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

Lup finally turned to face him now, stunned. “Wh-what-?”

He blushed and began rambling. “I had this whole evening planned, and there was supposed to be a gondola ride, that’s where we were supposed to go next, and I was going to ask you there, but then you brought up marriage and I panicked and I put my fucking foot in my mouth. It was so dumb, I’m so sorry I said all that shit, I didn’t mean any of it, I just really wanted it to be a surprise. Gods, I was so fucking dumb, of course I wanna marry you, if you’ll still have m-“

Lup bent down, grabbed Barry’s face, and kissed him hard.

Barry felt all the tension in his body melt away. He shut the ring box and held it securely in one hand. He brought the other up to sweep Lup’s hair behind her ear and held it there, against her cheek.

When Lup pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. “You’re a fucking wreck, baby.”

He chuckled. She was crying again and, Barry realized, so was he. “I know.”

She beamed. “We’ll work on it together, fiancé.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t believe you did all that for a fucking gondola ride, though. I mean, no offense, dear, but I’m kinda glad we didn’t do that.”

He grimaced. “Well, about that, I paid a lot of money for it, and there’s still time…”

Lup pouted. “Do we have to? I’d rather go home.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” she breathed.

Barry smiled. “Yeah, okay. You’ve convinced me.”

“Perfect!” Lup stood up, smirked, and held out her left hand. “Now gimme that rock!”

Taako lifted his phone off the bedside table and squinted at his notifications.

Lulu: Missed Call

Lulu: Voicemail

Remembering the scene at his restaurant the night before, he inhaled sharply and unlocked his phone. There are two ways that situation could’ve played out, he thought. He navigated to his voicemailbox and pressed play on the most recent message.

“Ugh, it’s so annoying how you’re never awake when I have news. I have big fucking news, by the way, so I’m gonna be really pissed at you if you don’t call me back within the next, like, two hours. Okay, later.”

Taako smiled. It was a relief to hear her sound so chipper. It meant this news of hers was definitely good, and it meant that Taako didn’t have to fight Barold. He sat up, rubbed the dust out of his eyes, and called his sister.

#taz #the adventure zone #taz balance #the adventure zone balance #blupjeans #barry bluejeans #lup #lup taaco #this is a couple months old but I really liked it at the time i wrote it #i hope its still good im kinda scared to think about it too hard #reese inspired me to write this in the first place i remember #i think she asked me a very simple like ''how would they get engaged after s&s do you think'' and i wrote her like a paragraph

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buckactuallys · 3 years

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congrats on 1k, pia!! 🥰❤️ may i request buddie + going to events together like carnivals, festivals etc 🐙

vic! thank you so much 🥰 here's 800 words of me pretending the 2019 griffith park harvest festival will take place this november:

[read on ao3]

“Look at this.”

Buck shoves his phone into Eddie’s hands, and Eddie looks at the website on the screen in confusion.

“What’s this?”

“The Griffith Park Harvest Festival,” Buck says. “We should take Christopher there. I think he’d love it – he’s probably too old for a lot of the kids’ activities, but there’s live music and food trucks and stuff too. And they’re showing Coco after sunset...he still loves that movie, doesn’t he? Or has he seen it too many times now?”

“I think Christopher would argue you can’t watch it too many times,” Eddie grins. It’s been a month since he broke up with Ana, and Christopher was surprisingly fine with it, but Eddie still feels a little guilty about it. Maybe a fun day out with Buck will be exactly what they need. “Okay, I’ll ask him.”

So of course, a week later Buck drives them to Griffith Park for the Harvest Festival. Chris paints a pumpkin while Buck and Eddie try the craft beers at the beer garden (they each get a different one and then share them both), but after that, the three of them stick together.

They eat too much from the many food trucks, spend some time at the petting zoo where Buck is almost as enthusiastic as Christopher is, despite their recent encounter with wild animals, and then go to check out the vendors.

Buck buys a bracelet handmade by single moms in Indonesia for Maddie and Eddie gets a fancy candle for Pepa’s birthday next week, and then they wait patiently while Christopher inspects a stall selling exotic plants.

“Remember that your dad has a black thumb, Christopher,” Buck says, and Eddie elbows him but can’t help but laugh.

Chris just rolls his eyes. “You and I can take care of it, Buck.”

Buck’s shit-eating grin morphs into a softer smile. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

Eddie smiles at him.

“Can we get this one, Dad?” Christopher lifts a small skull shaped planter holding a twisting cactus. “It looks like a brain, it’s soo cool.”

“Oooh,” Buck makes, stepping closer. “It really does!”

“It's a seasonal favorite,” the vendor says. “And very easy to care for.”

“Hear that, Eds?” Buck grins. “Maybe even you can do it.”

Eddie ignores him in favor of leaning down to look Chris in the eye. “Listen, buddy, if we buy this, it’s your responsibility, okay? We can put it in your room, but you have to take care of it on your own.”

“I can do it, Dad,” Christopher promises, and Eddie kisses the top of his head before straightening up again.

“Alright, we’ll take the one, then.”

Chris cheers, but his eyes are already on the next vendor’s stall, and he’s pulling Buck over there before Eddie has even pulled out his wallet.

“You have a beautiful family,” the vendor tells him, and it makes Eddie pause.

But there’s no panic clawing at his chest, not even worry.

“Thank you,” he says absently, eyes on Buck and Christopher one stall over.

Instead of panic, there’s an odd sense of warmth in his chest, like he likes it, people calling these two his family.

He grabs his receipt and the bag with the cactus, slowly following Buck and Chris. He watches as Buck swings a laughing Christopher over his shoulder and runs a few steps before setting him on his own feet again, letting him set the pace, and Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest.

It shouldn’t be news to him that Buck is part of their family. The whole 118 is the family he chose, and Buck most of all – it’s the reason why he changed his will, after all. That Buck is Christopher’s family, too.

But somehow, after everything he went through over the past few months, it feels...different. He can’t help but compare the way he feels now to how he felt when people made this assumption about Ana, and it’s unsettling.

“Come on, old man,” Buck teases when Eddie catches up with them, swinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him along. “Your son’s got enough energy for two.”

Eddie wants to do something utterly stupid, like slipping his hand into Buck’s back pocket, like holding his hand while they stroll through the festival, like kissing the taste of that pumpkin spice cupcake he had earlier off his lips.

Oh.

That...makes sense, actually. So much sense that Eddie doesn’t understand how he didn’t realize it earlier. Of course it’s Buck.

“You okay?” Buck asks, squeezing his shoulder once before dropping his arm. The back of his hand brushes Eddie’s, and Eddie smiles at him.

“Fine. Thanks for taking us here, Buck.”

Buck nudges their shoulders together with another smile. “Anytime, you know that.”

When Eddie thinks, I’m in love with you, it’s not a scary thought. It feels like something hopeful, like something he might tell Buck soon. Like something he might not be alone with.

“Yeah, I know.”

#buddie #911fic #911 #buddie fic #pia writes #pia's 1k follower celebration #ask #bilosan

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starlightinhumanform · 3 years

Text

Nothing Sweeter

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Moxiety, Platonic Analoceit (only mentioned)

Summary: When Virgil agreed to work a cashier shift at the bakery, Logan had assured him that they never get customers that late. Instead, Virgil comes face to face with the cutest customer he’s ever seen.

Warnings: None! (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: Bakery AU, Tooth-rotting Fluff

A/N: This was written for a request for @catemons-blog ! I haven’t written these babies in such a long time and to was so nice to write them again!! All reblogs and replies are greatly appreciated <3 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Virgil could feel flour beneath his nails, the warm dough under his hands, his arms moving automatically in the comforting, repetitive shifts of kneading bread. The bakery was like a second home to him but, more specifically, he loved the kitchen. He loved the whole cafe but the front wasn’t where he belonged— Logan and Janus took care of that— but this world of warmth and sweetness and soft scents, that was his.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, they just didn’t seem to click. It seemed like he was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time or missing some social cue that was apparently obvious to everyone else but invisible to him. No, Virgil loved people and he loved to share what he made with them; it was just a lot lower stress to work behind the scenes.

So he surprised even himself when he agreed to run both the front and the back of the cafe for the night. Maybe it was Logan’s promise that nobody came in on a weekday in the late evening. Maybe it was Janus’ bribe that he would make Virgil an extra special mocha coffee tomorrow. Maybe it was the combined power of their pleading eyes. Whatever the case, Virgil found himself alone in the cafe on a late Wednesday evening, with nothing but his hands and his work for company.

Logan had been right— Virgil hadn’t seen a customer since his shift started at 7:00 and as the time stretched forward, it began to seem less and less likely that some would order a coffee this late at night.

When the door chime ran at 10 pm, Virgil was half-expecting it to be Logan or Janus stopping by to see how he was doing (and probably to steal a jam-filled cookie or two).

Virgil walked into the front of the store to say hello but was instead faced by a stranger. They had a round face with large blue eyes and a mop of curly blond hair sweeping down their forehead— their face wasn’t ringing any bells. But Virgil didn’t really know the customer’s; he knew their orders .

He quirked an eyebrow as went down the list of regular customers this stranger could be and began taking guesses, “A dozen maple doughnut bars?”

“Um, no actually I want—” Their voice was soft but had a gravely quality that bite at the ends of their words. The voice was unfamiliar to Virgil but for some reason, he wanted to hear it more.

“Hmm, a ciabatta loaf and three everything bagels?”

“No… I was hoping you had—”

“Oh, I know! A loaf of rye, a loaf of pumpernickel, and a loaf of sourdough?”

The stranger began laughing. It was a nice laugh, Virgil guessed, but he couldn’t figure out what was so funny. He could feel his cheeks beginning to turn red; he had said something wrong again, hadn’t he?

They stopped laughing long enough to flash Virgil a bright, amused smile, “Are you going to keep guessing the entire night until you get my order right?”

The customer didn’t seem mad, he wasn’t even laughing at Virgil; he was laughing… because of Virgil? Virgil had made them laugh and that felt very very different than being laughed at. Their laughs ran through the empty little dining area and bounced off the display case, almost entirely empty by this time of day. Their laughs made Virgil feel good, even if he didn’t quite understand what was so funny.

Virgil let himself take another look at the person in front of him. There was a warm, sweet sensation beginning to flutter in his stomach and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

The customer was cute, no doubt about it. They were wearing large, round-framed glasses, nearly as gold as their hair. Behind the glasses, their eyes were one of the bluest blue Virgil had ever seen— like water drawn in a saturated kid’s cartoon. They were wearing a blue top tucked into a white pleated skirt and white mary-jane shoes. The skirt had attached suspender straps, one of which had a small pin on it. Looking closer, Virgil realized the pin was a small transgender pride flag with the pronouns “he/him” stamped over it. Ok, so the customer was a he ; and he was really, really cute.

Virgil tried to snap his mind back on focus. The man in front of him had stopped laughing but was still looking at him with a soft, somewhat lopsided smile.

Virgil looked down at his hands, feeling like making eye contact with this person was just a little too much right now. He cleared his throat, “So, uh, do you want to order something?”

“No, I actually was just planning on standing here for the rest of the night.”

“Really?” Virgil could feel his eyebrows furrowing together.

“No, no,” He stepped closer to the counter Virgil was behind, “I was just joking, sweetheart.”

Sometimes Virgil had a hard time catching social cues but the way he said “sweetheart” held too much kindness and sincerity for Virgil to miss its meaning. Virgil’s blush grew to a deep crimson.

He walked all the way to the counter so he and Virgil were only a foot apart. Virgil wasn’t sure if he wanted to flirt with him or run away to the kitchen. Somehow, putting a stove fire out seemed easier than talking to this customer.

Virgil shook his hands below the counter, hoping stimming would help release all of the energy and feelings bouncing around in his body. He tried to remember what Logan had told him in case customers did come in; there were specifically steps Logan was very particular about, “Could I get a name for your order?”

“Of course! My name’s Patton!”

God, even his name is cute.

“Your name’s Virgil?”

Virgil glanced down at his name tag as if he needed reminding of what it said. He nodded in confirmation of Patton’s question.

“That’s such a pretty name,” Patton’s smile reminded him of opening an oven door on a cold day, the warmth and sweetness rolling over him in waves. He felt like he was melting.

Patton’s eyes wandered over the menu board, licking his lips absentmindedly as he tried to make a decision. Virgil wished he could stop looking at his lips.

Finally he looked back over at Virgil, “Could I get three muffins—”

“Uh huh,” Virgil nodded as he jotted the words down on the receipt the way Logan had asked him to.

“—and, uh,” Patton leaned forward even a little closer, “Could I get your number?”

Virgil forgot how to talk in that moment, feelings of happiness practically vibrating through him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he just exploded, just nodding his head to answer Patton like his life depended on it.

Virgil moved as if he were in a dream, packaging the muffins as Patton paid. He felt like the planet’s gravity had suddenly been turned down and he was floating a few inches off the ground. He quickly scribbled his phone number on the bag before handing it to Patton.

“Oh! I almost forgot something!”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow at Patton’s exclamation, “You did?”

“Yeah! Your tip for such great service.”

“No, no you already gave a tip. See, it’s on your receipt beneath—”

Virgil froze as Patton leaned forward and planted a kiss on Virgil’s cheek.

“There! Extra tip for being so cute,” Patton gave him that lovely, warm smile before turning with a wave and walking out of the bakery.

Virgil sank to the floor, disregarding whether or not that was a health code violation. He didn’t care about that right now. His face was tingling and his heart was racing and he felt out of breath. He clapped his hands together, happy stims taking over for a moment as he processed the interaction he had just had with the cutest boy he had ever seen. Maybe working in the front of the bakery had its own benefits…

Virgil couldn’t stop smiling.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :)

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#moxiety #romantic moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #virgil x patton #moxiety fluff #moxiety bakery au #moxiety fanfic #sanders sides #sanders sides fluff #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides bakery au #tooth rotting fluff #moxiety meet cute #platonic analoceit #autistic!virgil #trans!patton #my fics #starlight writes

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bluemingcore · 3 years

Text

title: ma'am this is a bakery

summary: You stepped into the bakery, the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted in the air, making you dizzy with euphoria. It was such a warm and inviting atmosphere, this favorite bakery of yours.

Or, you find something eye catching in your favorite bakery and it isn't bread! A relationship between you and Jisung slowly blooms, like yeast in bread.

characters: park jisung (nct) x reader

warnings/tags: none; fluff, lots of fluff; she/her pronouns are used for reader; bakery and university au

word count: 10, 417

a/n: a gift for my sister :)

title a reference to the meme "sir this is a wendy's"

links: ao3

You stepped into the bakery, the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted in the air, making you dizzy with euphoria. It was such a warm and inviting atmosphere, this favorite bakery of yours. You loved stopping by every day for lunch to grab something to eat before heading back to class.

Taking a tray, you peered into the plastic cases, your hunger tempting you to go take everything you see.

Resisting that urge, you take a cheesy bread. You glanced around at the other breads, wondering if you should take a sweet bread to counter the savory one. You spotted the milk tea bun. It was sitting alone in the case. The last one! Quickly making your choice, you reach for the milk tea bun.

Just as you were doing so, another hand reached for the same one. Accidentally touching the stranger’s hand, you pulled back quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You say, turning your head to look at the other person.

“No, it’s fine,” the stranger said. He turned to look at you. “You can take it.”

You stared at the man in front of you. Dressed in a white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a dark blue apron—stained with what looks like flour—that fell above his knees, and black jeans. An employee...? You thought. You had to crane your head up to look at him. He was tall. And handsome. Really handsome.

You blinked.

“... Are you sure?” You asked, glancing away to look at the lonely milk tea bun.

“Yeah I’m sure. You reached for it first. Besides, you’re a customer. The customers always get what they want, right?” He smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat.

That last part kind of sounded a little sarcastic... So he is an employee then.

“Ah... I guess so...” You muttered.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get something else to eat for lunch,” The man absentmindedly said, more so to himself than to you. He then grabbed the milk tea bun and placed it on your tray for you, walking away before you could even say thank you. You blinked, a little confused by his actions, but decided to just finish your lunch trip and headed to the registers. Placing your items on the counter, you looked around for the boy who was gracious enough to give you the last milk tea bun, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Strange... You thought, bringing your attention back to the cashier when they asked, “Is that all for you?”

You ordered a milk tea to go and paid for your items. You left the bakery, walking back to campus while sipping on your drink.

—————————

You met up with your friend, Sophia, to eat lunch together at your university’s courtyard. Sitting at a picnic table, Sophia asked, “What did you get this time?”

“Brown sugar boba and a cheesy bread and a milk tea bread,” You answered, sitting down while taking your food out of the paper bag. “You?”

“I got a salad from the student union.”

“Gross,” You playfully said, looking disgusted. “I told you you should’ve gone with me. Also, I saw a cute worker there.”

“Really?” Sophia questioned, sounding actually uninterested in the supposed cute guy.

“Yeah, really. I’ve never seen him there before. He must be new,” You replied, eating your food.

“Yeah probably. You would know, you go there everyday.”

“Exactly. Anyways, we were both trying to get the last milk tea bun,” You continued.

“Wow, so romantic!” Sophia commented sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes. “I think he was on his lunch break or something, and wanted to eat it. But he let me have it.” You waved the milk tea bun to show it. “Obviously. He just put it on my tray and disappeared??? He’s so weird...” You shook your head, continuing to eat your lunch.

“Men are just weird like that.”

“Yeah, they are.”

—————————

Jisung wiped down the counters, quickly hurrying up to finish his tasks to his closing shift at the bakery. For what seemed like the 100th time that day—since he met her—his mind started thinking about the girl who wanted the milk tea bun earlier that day. He stopped what he was doing and hung his head low, sighing exasperatedly, as he thought about how he just gave her the bread and ran off without saying anything. Stupid... Why did I do that? He chastised himself, regretting his actions. I hope she comes back to the bakery soon...

—————————

Little did he know, you did return to the bakery the next day for lunch as you always do. You grabbed the food you wanted and paid for it. You didn’t see the Milk Tea Bun Boy (which was what you decided to dub him) you met the day before working, and you wondered where he was.

Just as you were opening the door to leave, someone else was also opening the door to enter.

“Oh!” The voice said in surprise. “Sorry.”

You looked at the owner of the voice and to your surprise, it was Milk Tea Bun Boy!

“Oh it’s you,” You said. “From yesterday. Thank you for letting me have the last milk tea bun.” You smiled brightly at him.

He stared at you, feeling a little flustered not only by what you said, but your smile. She’s cute... He thought.

“I-It’s nothing. I hope you enjoyed it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact with you.

“I did. Thank you. I got something different today.” You lifted the bag of food. “Well… I gotta go now. Bye.” You nodded your head slightly at the boy, before making your exit.

Jisung stared at your figure as you walked down the sidewalk, away from him and the bakery. He sighed, as he entered the bakery. She returned so quickly. If my shift was earlier I could’ve talked to her more. But still, he felt glad that he had a chance to see you, even if it was just a brief moment. Jisung went to the kitchen to put his apron on and start his shift.

—————————

“I saw him again today,” You said, sitting down on the bench and eating your food.

“Milk tea bun boy?” Sophia asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah. I think he was going to work. I was leaving and he was walking out.”

“Did you say anything to him?”

“I told him thank you for letting me have the last bread.”

“You should get his number since you think he’s cute,” Sophia teased.

You shook your head at the thought. “I’m not gonna do that. That’s too awkward.”

Sophia laughed at you.

—————————

The next day for lunch, you and Sophia both decided to eat at the bakery together. You hoped Milk Tea Bun Boy was working, because you wanted Sophia to see what he looked like.

The two of you arrived, the scent of freshly baked bread saturating the air of the bakery.

“It smells so good in here,” Sophia commented, making moves to grab a tray.

“Hi, welcome!” A voice called from behind the counter. You turned your head towards the voice.

Milk Tea Bun Boy!

You smiled back at the employee. “Hi,” You said in response before turning away to your friend. You grabbed a tray for yourself, whispering to your friend, “That’s him.”

“Oh?” Sophia took a sneaky glance at the employee behind the counter, who was busy helping another customer. “That is a boy.” Was all she said in response.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you took the bread you wanted. A potato croquette and a milk tea bun.

The two of you headed towards the register with your items. “Hi. Is this for here or to go?” Milk Tea Bun Boy asked.

You were going to say to go, until your friend Sophia interrupted, “Let’s eat here.” She suggested. You glanced at her then back to the employee.

“For here,” You replied with a small smile.

“And is that all for you?”

“Um… can I also get a brown sugar milk tea with tapioca?”

“Sure.” As the employee rang up your items, you glanced down at the name tag fastened on his apron. The name read: Jisung.

After you paid for your items, you sat down at a table near the windows. The sun outside was shining bright and few clouds breezed along the blue sky. You watched as Sophia paid for her things, and sat across from you.

“Are you just gonna watch him from afar?” She teased, taking hold of her food and eating it.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you picked up your food. “I wasn’t even looking at him.”

“Yeah, sure whatever you say.” She giggled.

“Number 31.” Jisung’s voice called. You glanced at your receipt on the table.

“Oh that’s me,” You got out of your seat to the pick-up counter.

“Thank you!” You smiled at him as you took your drink.

He smiled back, nodding. “You’re welcome.”

You sat back down at the table, sipping your drink.

“I feel like I’ve seen him before…” Sophia said, thoughtfully chewing on her food.

“Where?” You lifted your brow quizzically.

“Hmm… I think he also attends our university. I think I’ve seen him in the hallways before.”

“Hmm...” You murmured, sipping on your drink.

—————————

“Jisung.”

“Huh?” Jisung snapped out of his stupor and looked at his co-worker.

Jeno shook his head. “Why don’t you just ask her out man?”

“I… don’t even know her name…” Was the only excuse Jisung could find.

“Well, then next time she comes and orders a drink, just ask, ‘Do you have a name or can I call you cutie pie?’” Jeno winked at his friend as if to make his point.

Jisung stared blankly at Jeno. “We don’t even ask for names. We use numbers for orders.” He pointed out so matter-of-factly. “You should know that you’ve worked here longer than I have.”

Jeno sighed dramatically, taking his friend by the shoulders and giving him a rough shake. “I’m trying to help you here!”

“Okay, okay, stop!” Jisung gripped Jeno’s wrists to remove the other boy’s hands off his shoulders.

“Besides, I think she comes in everyday for lunch.”

Jisung lifted a brow. “Really?”

Jeno nodded. “Yeah. I noticed when I started working here. Well, Monday to Friday at least. She may also go to the same university as us.”

“Hmm…” Jisung responded absently, returning to the task of wiping the tables down.

“Look, if you don’t ask her out, I will.” He looked at his friend, grinning mischievously.

Jisung glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Jeno laughed. “I’m kidding. But seriously. Just ask her out. You miss the shots you don’t take. She could say yes. Oh, what if she has a boyfriend already? That’d be awkward.”

Jisung groaned at his friend’s ramblings.

—————————

On certain weekdays when Jisung was working the lunch shift, he often saw you come in to grab something to eat. Sometimes you came in with your tall friend, sometimes it was just you. It has been a week since he first had that encounter with you, but he still never built up the courage to ask you out, or even make small talk outside of his usual work-related questions. The encouragement, or nagging, from Jeno didn’t do much to push him to say anything to you.

Jisung sighed internally at his whirlwind of thoughts. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Why—

The ringing of the bells brought Jisung’s attention to the present. The door of the bakery opened and lo and behold, the source of his internal turmoil walks in.

Lunchtime already? Jisung thought to himself as he checked the time on his watch. Time had gone by really quick.

Jisung looked back at you, and was caught by surprise to see that you were accompanied by another person. It wasn’t your tall white friend this time, but a male instead.

Is that her… Jisung’s thoughts began to storm again.

He watched the two of you as you both walked around and chose which items to eat. He turned to Jeno, who was manning the cash register. Jisung didn’t have a chance to ask before the older boy beat him to it.

“Hey, do you think that’s her boyfriend?” Jeno asked lowly.

Jisung sighed. “I don’t know.”

Jeno noticed his friend’s inner turmoil. “Well, we can’t assume every boy she walks in with is her boyfriend. It could be a relative or a friend.” He tried to make his friend feel a little better.

Jisung quickly left the cash register counter when he saw the pair approaching.

After the pair paid for their items and left, Jisung approached Jeno again.

“His name is Bryson,” Jeno said.

“What? How do you know that?” Asked the young boy with furrowed brows.

“She said his name.” Jeno replied as if that was a fact Jisung should’ve been aware of. “He offered to pay for their food and she was like ‘Bryson you don’t have to do that!’” His voice went high-pitched for a moment to mimic the girl. “But he insisted and paid for the food anyway. This is why I don’t think they’re dating because —“

Jisung rolled his eyes, turning away to leave his friend’s ramblings. “You talk too much.”

“Hey! Don’t you wanna hear my theory?” Jeno called after.

“Not really. You don’t make any sense.” Jisung went back to his tasks.

—————————

Later that day after classes ended, you met up with Sophia to walk to the library to do some homework together.

“… and I didn’t want Bryson to come with me but he insisted! What if Milk Tea Bun Boy thinks we’re dating now?!” You groaned.

“Hey, at least you got free food.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“If you’re stressing so much over this, just make it known to him that you’re single! Ask him out already!”

You shook your head. “Too awkward.”

“What’s awkward is you lusting over him while saying nothing.” Your friend rolled her eyes.

“I’m not lusting over him,” You quipped.

“Whatever you say.”

—————————

Several days later, you, along with Sophia, once again went to the bakery to grab lunch.

“Let’s eat here today,” Sophia suggested.

“Mmm….” You replied as you thought about what to eat.

Sitting down at the table near the windows after you paid for your items, you noticed Milk Tea Bun Boy walk in, the bells above the door jingling behind him as he was putting his apron on. As he walked in, he glanced at you. You flushed and quickly looked away, giving new attention to your food instead.

Sophia stared at you blankly while she shook her head.

Jisung watched from afar as you and Sophia chatted away and ate together. He thought you looked especially cute today. Your hair was styled differently and the dress you wore was adorable, suiting you quite well, he thought. He sighed internally and turned away. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Was he just going to stare at you from afar forever? Or was he going to finally get the courage to do something about it? Maybe Jeno was right—

Without thinking, Jisung made his way to where you were sitting. When you and Sophia noticed him approaching, your attention was turned to him.

Oh no… He thought. Why was he approaching you again? What was he supposed to say? Think Jisung, think!

“Uh…” He sputtered upon reaching your table. “If you’re done eating, I’ll take that.” He looked at the trays on the table and the other trash.

“O-oh… Yeah we’re done. Thank you.” You said, smiling warmly at him.

Jisung’s ears tinged pink, he looked down and quickly took away the trays and trash.

Sophia could only stare at him and you with a confused look. “Okay… Let’s go back to campus. My next class starts soon.”

—————————

“You did that??!” Jeno laughed. And laughed. Until tears sprung from the corner of his eyes.

Jisung groaned. “Shut up! I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Haha, sorry. It’s just too funny.” He wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye and flicked it at his friend.

“Stop that.” Jisung glared, swatting away Jeno’s hand.

“But seriously man. You need to just talk to her. She seems nice. Like I said, if you don’t say something, I will~” He chuckled.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Hehe, who knows…”

—————————

The next day for lunch, you and Sophia once again ate inside the bakery.

“I can’t believe midterms are coming up so fast,” You said with a sigh after a bite of food.

“I know. This semester is going by way too fast.”

Jisung emerged from the employee break room, unsurprised to see you sitting at the table by the window with your friend. He was on break when you arrived, so he didn’t see you come in. He adjusted his apron, walking towards you, his head replaying the conversation between him and Jeno from yesterday.

“I can take that if you’re done,” He said, standing by your table.

“Oh, yes, we’re done, thank you.” You gave him a small smile.

Jisung started gathering the trays on the table. “I notice you come here a lot…” He started.

“Yeah, I really like this bakery. And it’s really close to campus so I like to come here to get something to eat in between classes.” You replied.

He nodded. “I see… So you go to [university name] then?”

“Yeah, we both do.” You gestured between Sophia and yourself. “Do you go there too?”

“I do. I’m a music major.”

“Oh that’s cool! What —“ You were interrupted by the jingling of the bells from the door.

“Hi, welcome!” Jisung turned to the new customers walking in. “I gotta go.” He said to you, taking the trays and leaving.

“Well that was a good start!” Sophia said encouragingly as you both walked back to campus.

“It was so awkward…” You sighed, shaking your head.

Sophia patted your shoulder. “Cheer up. At least he initiated conversation. Maybe he likes you.”

You could only sigh at her response.

—————————

“Good job. At least you said something to her.” Jeno said to Jisung as the two were walking to the library together.

“She probably thinks I’m weird, just talking to her outta nowhere. Then, a customer walked in in the middle of our conversation and I had to leave.”

Jeno playfully slapped his friend on the back. “Gives you another opportunity to talk to her next time. By the way, do you have the notes for sociology? I dozed off last class and I seriously need to get to studying for that midterm.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I have it. I’ll email it to you.”

—————————

Your head spun as you glossed over the list of terms that were going to be on your midterm. You enjoyed your sociology class, but these terms were so much to remember all at once! You were sitting at a table at the bakery that you always go to, left hand holding a curry bun, other grasping pages of notes you printed out. It was the weekend, and you were waiting on Sophia to arrive so the two of you could start studying for midterms together. You sighed and put the paper down, taking a bite of your food and glancing around the bakery. Milk tea bun boy—Jisung, if you will—wasn’t working at the moment.

The door opened, bells jingling to signal an entry. You turned your head towards the door, expecting Sophia to walk in. Instead, it was Jisung, apron hung over his forearm, a backpack slung over his shoulder. The two of you made eye contact. You weren’t sure whether you should say hi, so you opted for a friendly smile—a smile that Jisung returned—before turning back to the papers sprawled in front of you.

You checked the time on your phone. Where was Sophia? She was already 10 minutes late.

From behind the counter, Jisung watched as you were poring over the sheets of paper on the table. He began thinking of ways to make conversation with you. Absentmindedly, he grabbed the table cleaning supplies, and sauntered over to the empty tables near you.

You weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings, your eyes trained on the paper in your hand, as you read and reread the terms. Jisung was cleaning the tables, mind still mulling over how to make small talk to you. Why couldn’t he just be bold and brave like Jeno was? That man would make conversation with a tree if it looked interesting enough.

He sighed inwardly before he noticed a stray paper on your table slipped off, cascading slowly onto the floor. He looked at your concentrated countenance, focused on reading whatever it was that you were reading. You didn’t seem to notice the fallen paper.

Jisung walked over and picked it up for you.

Finally, you lifted your eyes up when you noticed his presence nearby.

“This fell.” Jisung said, handing you the piece of paper.

“Oh, thank you.” You took the paper from him.

“… What are you studying for?” He asked, looking at the mess of papers.

“Intro to sociology.” You answered with a sigh. “It’s midterm season.”

Jisung noticeably perked up at “sociology.” “Intro to sociology?” He echoed. “I take that course too. Who do you have it with?”

“Professor Robertson. He’s a really great professor.”

His eyes widened. “Professor Robertson? I take him too!” He smiled.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “What, really? Wait, what section? I’m in section five.”

Jisung deflated, nodding in understanding. “Ahh… I’m in his fourth section.”

“Oh okay... Did he give your class a study guide? He told my class that he’s going to give us a study guide for the exam. A study guide would be really helpful, so I can know what to study for. I printed out all my notes and the PowerPoints lectures.” You gestured to the papers in front of you. “It’s a lot.” You sighed.

Jisung shook his head, chuckling softly. “He told us the same thing. He hasn’t emailed a study guide yet, but we’re all waiting on it. You’re preparing for it kinda early, don’t you think? The midterm’s still a couple of weeks away.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s best to prepare early, right? Plus, there’s so much material to know.”

He nodded. “You’re really thorough. I haven’t even started looking over my notes yet.”

“You should get a head start. Exam day is gonna be here before you know it.”

“Haha, you’re right about that. Uh, well… How about studying together sometime? I could use the help.” Jisung felt nervous.

You were taken aback by the question. “Oh, sure! I could use a study buddy!” You smiled at him, a giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

He beamed at your response. “Cool! Um… oh, I never gave you my name. I’m Jisung.”

You giggled. “I know. I noticed it on your name tag.” You pointed at the name tag on his apron, crookedly displayed.

“Oh right.” He smiled, glancing down at his name tag.

“I’m y/n.”

“Y/n?” Jisung repeated. “That’s a pretty name.” He smiled softly at you. You felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh, um, let me give you my number. I work until closing today but if you ever want to study together, just text me.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket. “And you can give me your number too, um, if you want to, of course.”

You smiled, reaching for your phone and handing it to the boy. “Well, even if I don’t give you my number now, you’d end up having it when I text you anyways.” You responded playfully with a laugh.

Jisung cleared his throat, entrapped by the fact that he was now exchanging numbers with you. And on top of that, you insinuated that you were going to text him eventually. “Ha… you’re right,” He said with a smile, taking your phone in his hands and giving his phone to you. He entered his number into your contacts, and you did the same to his. Just as you took your phone back, the door opened. Sophia’s tall figure walked in, giving you a wave and a smile. You smiled and waved back.

“I gotta go back to work. Good luck studying.” Jisung said with a bright smile, turning on his heel and walking away.

“Sorry I’m late.” Sophia sat down across from you, “I had to wait for my co-worker to arrive before I could clock-out and they were late.” She opened her backpack and started rummaging for her laptop.

“It’s okay,” You reassured, a smile on your face as you looked at the new number displayed on your phone. Park Jisung, it read.

Sophia grinned at you. “So… what happened?” She wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance.

She scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “Okay, you can just tell me after. I’m gonna get something to eat.”

—————————

“You got his number?!” Sophia’s eyes were wide. The two of you were finished studying and were walking back to Sophia’s car.

“Yes!” You beamed, feeling giddy and unbelieving that he actually asked for your number. “He wants to study for the sociology midterm together.”

“Well, how exciting for you.” She grinned.

—————————

Several days later, while you were sitting in statistics class bored out of your mind, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It was a text from Jisung.

Hey do you wanna study together at the library?

You immediately responded.

What time?

I’m at work until 2:30pm, so after that?

Okay sounds good :) I’m in class right now so I’ll head straight there and find us a table

Great see you then! :D

You hid your smile behind your hand and began impatiently tapping your foot. Could this class just end already?

—————————

Finally. His shift was over. It was 2:30pm and Jisung took off his apron, folding it and stuffing it inside his backpack. “I’m clocking out now,” He announced to his manager.

On his way out, he stopped in his tracks.

—————————

You texted Jisung: I’m sitting on the first floor next to the windows in the back

You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous. You were just studying sociology with a (cute) boy who works at the bakery you always go to, who had asked for your number. So nothing wrong with that. You started taking out your laptop and notes.

After some time, you received a text from Jisung.

I’m on my way!

—————————

“Hey!”

You looked up at the voice. “Hi.” You smiled at Jisung. He was wearing jeans and a printed t-shirt. You thought he looked weird without his work apron on. But then again, it’d be weirder if he always wore it. This was the first time you saw Jisung outside of his usual setting at the bakery. It was weird, in a different-nice kind of way.

“I got us something to eat while we study.” He placed a bag on the table. “Some pastries from work.”

Your eyes widened at the pleasant surprise. “Woah, really? Thanks!”

“No problem. Here.” He reached into the bag, pulling out a milk tea bun and handing it to you. “I’m sure you’ll like this one.”

You laughed. “I do. Thank you. Sorry about taking the last one from you that day.”

Jisung shook his head, settling himself in the seat across from you. “It’s fine, really. So, how are you studying?”

The two of you only managed to study for about 30 minutes before getting tired of it and deciding to “take a short break.”

“How long have you been working at the bakery?” You asked, cheek resting on the palm of your hand.

“Hm… Maybe about 2 months now? I haven’t been working there that long. My friend Jeno, who also works there, got me the job.”

“I see. I figured you haven’t been working there long because I go to that bakery all the time.”

“Yeah, you do come in often. Is it your favorite place?”

You nodded with a smile. “The top bakery in this city in my opinion. Everything is always really good and the workers are always nice.”

“Ah… so you think I’m nice?” He teased, grinning almost too playfully.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Unless there’s reason for me to think otherwise?” You playfully responded.

His face reddened at your forthright response. “Haha, no… I do think of myself as nice.”

The conversation petered out.

“You told me before you’re a music major right?” You asked eventually. “What do you want to do in the future?”

At that, Jisung smiled brightly, as he began diving into an explanation of his hopes and dreams, his love for music and his wishes of creating music and singing, for making people happy with music. You listened intently, entranced by his passion for music, his smile and the way his eyes sparkled while talking about it.

“You’re so passionate about it.”

He smiled. “What about you? What’s your major?”

“Well now I’m gonna sound silly compared to you and your passions.”

Jisung vigorously shook his head. “Don’t compare your dreams to mine. We all have different dreams in their own right. Your passions have a special meaning to you as mine does for me.”

You smiled at his words and his adamant reassurance. “I…”

It was then your turn to explain yourself, your passion, your dreams, and future goals. Jisung looked at you, listening intently, nodding and asking questions when appropriate. He kept his full attention on you and his interest in what you had to say made you feel giddy inside.

Before you knew it, two hours had passed.

“So much for studying.” You sighed.

“That’s okay. We can try again next time.”

“Next time?”

He smiled. “Yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

Tapping your finger on your chin, “Hm, I don’t know. You’re not that great of a study buddy, considering we barely did any studying.” You joked with a little chuckle. “I’m kidding.”

“Then you can give me a second chance tomorrow.”

You smiled. “Okay, tomorrow. You better prove yourself.”

—————————

Tomorrow came and Jisung did prove himself to be a decent study companion. For the first forty-five anyways. Then as the day before, you and Jisung lapsed into leisurely conversation. The two of you were able to talk for hours. You were comforted by how Jisung was very easy and fun to talk to. The conversation would veer into favorite music, artists, recent movies, favorite movies, and just about any topic that could be discussed that wasn’t sociology.

Before you knew it, evening had fallen and the last rays of the sun disappeared from the sky.

“It’s getting late now.” You remarked, looking outside the windows at the darkness shrouding the courtyard.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment.” Jisung offered, picking up his things from the table.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He shook his head. “I do. You shouldn’t walk by yourself in the dark.”

“… Okay. Thank you.”

“You know, I haven’t stopped by the bakery these past two days for lunch,” You were telling Jisung as he walked you to your apartment. “Since we’ve been studying together and stuff.”

“Oh that’s right. We can study at the bakery tomorrow then? I don’t work tomorrow anyways.”

“Yeah, okay, we can do that.”

You made conversation about the anime Jisung finished watching on the way to your apartment. You told him that you had already watched that one and were amicably discussing the thrilling plot and your favorite characters before you finally ended up on the front door of your apartment.

“Well, we’re here.” You said, feeling awkward. “Thanks for walking me here.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah.”

You unlocked the door. “Bye…”

“Bye. Good night.”

“Night.”

Jisung slowly turned to leave. You pushed your door open, and looked at his retreating figure. He turned around for a moment, smiling at you and waving before finally disappearing around the corner.

You walked in your apartment and closed the door behind you. You had so much fun with Jisung that ending the night felt wrong, almost sad. But you were going to see him again the next day. You smiled to yourself thinking about it.

“Oh hey you’re home.” Sophia called out to you from the kitchen, causing you to jump.

—————————

You impatiently tapped your pen on the desk, eager to finish your last class of the day. You just wanted to see Jisung. You felt excitement bubble inside as you thought about meeting him for another study session at the bakery. You wondered if he felt the same.

Time passed, the lecture boring you to tears. The minute the professor wrapped up the lecture, dismissing the class, you packed your things and left straight to the bakery.

Jisung was already there, sitting at a table with two drinks and some food spread out, and his laptop balanced on the corner of the table. It was weird to see Jisung at his workplace, not in his work uniform and not working. But you had to admit, you liked seeing him like this. When the door opened, he looked up from his laptop, giving you a smile and then waved you over.

“Hey you.”

You returned his smile, setting your backpack down and sitting at the chair across from him. “Hey. You’re actually studying.” You said teasingly.

He chuckled. “I barely started.” He pushed a drink and wrapper of bread towards you. “This is for you.”

“What really? You gotta let me pay you back.”

“No.”

“What, why?” You whined, pouting. “You bought food last time too. It’s only fair.”

He shook his head vigorously. “No. It’s on me. I mean it.”

“Jisung…” You whined, dragging out the last syllable of his name.

The corner of his lips tugged in a tiny small, finding your insistence rather adorable and endearing. “Okay, okay, fine.”

You smiled brightly.

“Next time though, okay?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Okay. Fine. Next time for sure.”

Jisung propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand. So cute… He thought as you grumbled to yourself before finally deciding to take out your laptop and study materials.

“No distractions this time, okay?” You told him in a stern tone. “I have other assignments I need to focus on.”

He nodded. “Yes ma’am. I won’t bother you.”

He wanted to though. While you were focused on whatever assignments you had, he watched you from the edge of his laptop from time to time (okay, he’ll admit it, for most of the time). He thought you looked cute like that. Your expression held unduly focus on your laptop and notebook, your lips sometimes moved to mouth whatever it was that you were reading, sometimes you would blink excessively at your laptop as if confused at something, your brows would scrunch together in concentration. He couldn’t help but admire your features.

You were tapping the bottom of your pen to your chin, deep in thought, with a blank expression on your face, your eyes moving back and forth on the laptop screen.

“You’re so pretty…”

“Huh?” Your eyes moved from the screen to his face.

Jisung’s eyes slightly widened in realization. Wait. Did he just say that out loud? Oh crap. He didn’t mean to.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shaking his head. “I said I’m bored.”

You tilted your head. It sure didn’t sound like that before but you didn’t want to dispute it since you weren’t totally sure. “We barely started studying.”

“Yeah, so? Studying is so boring.”

You shook your head with a light smile. “You’re not wrong there.”

“Jisung?” The two of you looked to the source of the voice.

“Huh, Jeno? You’re working today?”

“Yeah, I switched shifts with Jaemin.” Jeno looked over at you. A grin spread on his face. “Oh hey. You’re the customer that always comes here. I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Yeah, it’s because I’ve been spending time studying with Jisung.”

“Oh~? Really? Well, how exciting.”

“Not really. It’s studying.” Jisung mumbled. He looked at his friend with an unamused stare. “Shouldn’t you be clocking in now?”

Jeno huffed a small laugh. “I suppose I should now. I’ll let you two at it. If you need something let me know~” He lifted a hand to wave before turning away, walking towards the employee door.

“Sorry about him.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. Let’s get back to studying.” You looked at your laptop before looking back at Jisung. “No distractions! I’m gonna set a timer so no distractions until then, okay?” You reiterated sternly.

He smiled. “Okay, okay.”

The two of you studied for an hour. Well, more like you were doing work while Jisung sometimes got distracted by you (but he was also doing some studying here and there).

An hour passed. You took a deep sigh, sitting back in your chair. “Okay… I finished my assignments.” You looked up at Jisung. “Did you get anything done?”

“Uh… A little?”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head in a playful manner. “Shame, Jisung, shame.”

He laughed. “Sorry. I couldn’t concentrate. There’s just some… natural distractions, you know?”

“Natural distractions?”

“Yeah. Distractions that can’t be helped.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly at his nonsense. “Whatever you say.”

The two of you then dropped into idle conversation. You talked about this and that, the weather, the classes you’re taking this semester, the new drinks the bakery is developing, and before you know it, another hour passed.

“… you would think the main character would know better but he doesn’t,” Jisung was saying about a character in a certain film.

“Yeah, right, it’s-“

“Hey, you two.”

You and Jisung turned to the voice. It was Jeno again.

“What is it, Jeno?” Jisung sounded mildly annoyed.

“I was feeling bored. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, hi. Now go back to work.”

“Ah, so harsh.” Jeno shook his head. He turned to you. “I never got your name. I’m Jeno by the way.”

“I’m y/n.”

“What a lovely name, y/n~”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Jisung looked at you then turned his head to give Jeno a stare. “You’re on the clock.” He stated with a sigh.

“What? You flirt on the clock.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. Last time when y/n was—“ Jisung kicked his friend in the shin. “Ow!”

“Okay, okay you’ve made your point.”

The door opened, bells jingling as a customer walked in.

“Great timing,” Jisung mumbled to himself.

“Alrighty then, I’ll go. Talk to you later y/n and Jisung!”

Jisung sighed as his friend turned and walked to the counter. “Sorry about him. Again.”

You laughed. “He’s quite entertaining.”

“Yeah, in more ways than one.”

You checked the time on your phone. “Ah… I think I should get going now. I told my friend Sophia that I would go grocery shopping with her.” You began to pack your things. “Today was really productive though. Thanks again for studying with me. I always find it useful to have someone to study or do homework with because it keeps me focused. Even if we’re not working on the same subject, you know?”

He nodded. “Yeah, same here.” (A half-lie, since he wasn’t doing much work in the first place.)

You slung your backpack over your shoulder, standing from your chair. “I’ll see you later then?”

He nodded, giving you a smile. “Yeah. Bye.”

You waved as you made your way out the door.

Jisung sighed as he watched you leave, feeling somewhat empty inside with your absence.

“Good going with the study dates.”

He turned his head, staring at Jeno who was standing next to his table. “Dates?”

“Isn’t that what these things are called?”

Jisung thought about it for a moment. He didn’t really think of the study sessions as dates. “Huh… I guess so… But we haven’t had an official ‘date’ yet. I haven’t really asked her out… These are more like… friendly gestures?” Yeah, sure. Friendly gestures.

Jeno scoffed. “Yeah sure. Proud of you for making the moves on her though!”

“I swear I’m gonna hit you one day.”

“What do you mean one day? You already kicked me today.”

“I think that was well deserved.”

—————————

You didn’t get to study with Jisung the day after. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. He had sent a text explaining his unfortunate work and class schedule, so he wasn’t able to study at certain, available times with you. But despite not getting to spend “study” time with him, you still visited the bakery on your break times. Sometimes he would be working that shift, sometimes he wouldn’t (you’d text him telling him you were at the bakery and he’d reply with a frowny face about how he’s in class or elsewhere). Even though you were still able to see him sometimes while he was at work, as well as having late night texts with him, you began to miss your study sessions together (even if those study sessions weren’t always the most productive ones).

One day, you received a text from him.

Can you come to the bakery at closing time?

You responded: Sure but why?

I’ll see you then!

He did not answer your question. You smiled and shook your head at the phone. Still, you complied. You spent the day on campus finishing up assignments and studying before walking to the bakery five minutes before closing. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a dusky orange glow on the streets. Approaching the store front, you could see Jisung through the glass wiping the tables down. He lifted his head and saw you staring at him. He smiled and waved. Giving him a sheepish smile in return—you felt a bit embarrassed about getting caught staring—and a wave, you walked inside the bakery.

“Hey.” The door jingled behind you as you walked in. “Why’d you want me to come at closing time?”

“Give me a moment.” He finished doing his task and walked behind the employee doors. There were voices chatting indistinguishably and Jisung eventually reappeared without his work apron on. He was wearing a white button up shirt rolled to his elbows and dark blue jeans. You thought he looked really handsome like this.

“So… what is it?”

He ran his hand through his hair, looking a little fidgety. “Well… It’s dinner time now. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab some dinner together?” He took a pause. “If you want to, of course…”

You were taken aback by his sudden question. You gave a short laugh, a sort of nervous, giddy laughter. “Wait, are you asking me out on a date?”

He blinked, a light blush making its way to his cheeks. “Yeah, I am. Y/n, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You smiled, a giddy feeling bloomed in your stomach. “I’d love to go on a date with you Jisung.”

He returned your smile. “Great. Let’s go. I know a nice sushi place.”

The two of you walked to the sushi restaurant that was not too far from the bakery.

“You know, at first, I thought you had a boyfriend.” He said this to you while you were waiting for your order to arrive.

“Huh? What, why?” Your face scrunched in absolute confusion.

Jisung gave an awkward chuckle before explaining himself. “It was because that one time you walked in the bakery with a guy.”

You tilted your head to the side, thinking about that ‘guy.’ “Ah.” You realized who he meant. “Bryson? That’s just a friend. You don’t need to worry about him. I turned him down long ago.” You took a sip of your drink.

Jisung nodded. “Ah, I see. Of course you’d have other suitors. It makes sense, since you’re so pretty.”

You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his compliment. You blushed, taking another sip of your drink to cool yourself. “How can you say that with such a straight face…” You mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

The food eventually arrived and you and Jisung talked amicably while eating your dinner. Talking about this and that, the weather, your classes, recent movies and music. You loved how easy Jisung was to talk to. You loved how his eyes shine bright when he talks about a hobby of his or something he finds interest in or likes doing. You love how whenever you talk with him, he centers his attention on you and just you, making you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

“Ah~ That was so good. I feel so full now.”

The check came around and Jisung instantly snatched it in his hands.

You gave him a glare (that had no bite). “Let me pay! Last time I said that I’ll pay next time and it’s next time.”

“No, it’s okay. I got it.”

“Jisung, really!”

He chuckled, shaking his head adamantly. “Consider this as… a gift for going out with me tonight.”

You huffed. He was persistent and stubborn and you didn’t have it in you to keep fighting him. “You’re so stubborn.”

He smiled.

“Let me walk you back to your apartment.” He said once the two of you were outside the restaurant. “It’s late now. I can’t have you walking back by yourself.”

So, he walked you back to your apartment. The two of you once again fell into a vibrant conversation about any topic plausible to talk about.

“Thanks for walking me home,” You said as you approached your apartment.

“It’s no problem.”

“And thanks for dinner. I had a lot of fun.” You smiled. Before you lost your courage, you quickly stood on your tiptoes, giving him a peck on the cheek. “That’s to show my gratitude. Good night.” You unlocked the door and hurriedly stepped in, shutting the door behind you. You stood with your back pressed against the door, heaving a sigh as your face reddened.

“Oh hey you’re home.”

You jumped at Sophia’s voice, placing your hand over your heart. “You gotta stop scaring me.”

—————————

Jisung stood motionless at the other side of the door, fingertips touching the skin where you kissed him. A blush tinted his cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears. He couldn’t believe how adorable you were.

Later that night, when he got back to his dorm, he sent you a text.

I had a lot of fun tonight. Let’s do it again sometime

—————————

“Again” did happen (again and again). Jisung and you made studying/homework sessions at the bakery or library an occasional ordeal (naturally, dependent on your schedules), even little dates to the sushi restaurant for after-studying dinner became an occasional event. As you spent more time with him, you got to learn more about him and vice versa. He was a kind, gentle and humorous individual. He even got along well with your best friend, Sophia, which you were glad about. You even made him cookies one day, as a thank you gift for always buying you food. He was in disbelief at your baking abilities, as the cookies were soft and chewy, just how he likes it (when Jisung brought them back to his dorms, Jeno even tried to steal one, earning a slap on the shoulder from the other).

And little did you know, he felt the same way. Jeno would talk about you and ask questions about you to Jisung endlessly (to the point where Jisung would be a little bit annoyed). Jisung found you to be a truly beautiful, benevolent and passionate person. Whenever you talked about something you like, you never notice the smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes when he listens to you talk. You never notice the shy glances, the subtle admiration of your features, and the wistful longing stares at your lips. You weren’t aware but he did wonder how soft your lips were or how soft you would feel in his arms.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” He was telling Jeno one day after work, “But… she exceeded any expectations I had. She’s so pretty inside and out.”

“Yuck,” Jeno responded jokingly, to which Jisung rolled his eyes at.

“You asked.”

—————————

Midterms came and passed. You and Jisung studied for the sociology midterm together on the days before the big exam, quizzing each other on the terms and concepts, reviewing each lecture and PowerPoint, crying and screaming at the stress of exam-taking. (“Stressing over exams is such a nice bonding experience” Sophia told you).

“I’m in enormous debt to you and your study guide. It really saved my grade,” Jisung said to you when he saw you the following day of the exam. "Jeno's too." He chuckled.

You smiled, shaking your head. “It’s no problem, really. Glad it helped and you got a good grade.”

“Enough to keep my B+ I hope…” He took a pause. “Actually, I was wondering… do you wanna come over to my dorm this weekend and watch a movie? I can order us pizza or something… and we can just… watch whatever movie you want? A thank you for helping me study.”

So you did. Sitting on his bed with a blanket over your lap and a slice of pizza in your hands, you waited for Jisung to pull the movie up on his laptop.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen all of the Shrek movies…” He was saying to you.

You shrugged, your mouth full of pizza. “I mean, I’ve only seen the first one.”

“We’re doing a Shrek marathon now.”

Despite having seen the Shrek movies numerous times, Jisung still paid much attention to the plot. You thought it was cute. You couldn’t help but stare at him a little. You thought he looked really pretty, the lights in the room were out, the laptop casting a harsh glow on his features, his focus entirely on the screen before him. You wanted to reach out, maybe brush your hands across his cheek, maybe hold his hand, put your hand on his chest and pull him close to you…

The lights flickered on and you blinked, hard.

“Oh hey there you two!”

“Jeno, couldn’t you have at least warned us before turning the lights on?”

Jeno only laughed.

The moments you spent with Jisung continued just like that. Days went and passed, and before you both knew it, it was soon spring break. You were gracious for it of course, but a hint of silent disappointment sprouted when Jisung told you he would be visiting home for the week. You didn’t say anything, but you silently wished to spend more time with him, seeing him one to three times a week just wasn’t enough. You craved his presence at times. Even if it was just sitting together in a room, that was enough for you.

—————————

So, Jisung visited home for spring break. You missed him a lot and going to the bakery just wasn’t the same without him there. Sometimes you’d expect to see him there standing behind the counter, only to be disappointed when he’s not. It was only a week without him but it felt much, much longer.

Who knew one week could feel like one year?

One more day! Can’t wait to see you :)

You smiled at the text from him. Before you were able to text back, your phone started ringing.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Hey y/n." Jisung's voice replied through your phone's earpiece. "...Sorry for the sudden call. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh…” You were slightly taken aback by his straightforward words.

“Sorry. Was that weird to say?”

You shook your head, even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to see it. “No, not at all. I… I miss you. A lot.”

A sigh of relief on the other side. “I miss you more.”

You huffed a laugh. “This isn’t a competition.”

Jisung chuckled. “Well, what are you doing right now?”

“I was actually preparing to go to bed.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I forgot about the time difference.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just… glad I get to hear your voice.”

“Are you in bed right now?”

“… Yes…? …This better not be going where I think it’s going Park Jisung,” You replied in a jokingly stern tone.

“What? No!” Panic in his voice at the implications. “No, no, no…”

“I was kidding~”

“What I meant was, I want to play you a song… to help you go to sleep.”

“Play me a song?”

“Yeah. Hold on, let me grab my guitar.” A couple of thumping and ruffling sounds could be heard as you patiently waited for Jisung. “Okay, got it. Are you lying comfortably in bed?”

“Mmm… Give me a minute.” You reached over and turned the bedside lamp off, nestling yourself under your covers, placing your phone next to you, and turning your phone to speaker mode. “Okay, all comfortable.”

“Any song requests?” He strummed a cord, causing you to smile as the sound vibrated through the speakers on your phone.

“Hmm…” You gave it some thought. “Play me a song you recently started writing?”

“Okay. I don’t have the lyrics all written out yet but I have the basic melody.”

“That’s okay. Anything you play will be nice.”

Jisung began strumming the guitar, a soft melodious tune gently reverberated through your phone and into your darkened bedroom. The chords he played were careful and smooth, making you feel peaceful.

“This sounds so lovely…” You whispered, closing your eyes. Jisung didn’t respond, he continued strumming the chords on his guitar, in hopes of helping you fall to sleep. After a while, the gentle lull of slumber washed over you gradually as you focused on listening to Jisung’s melodic guitar playing. Jisung continued playing until your soft breathing could be heard through the phone.

“Y/n?” There was no response, as you had fallen into deep sleep. “Good night y/n… I love you.” He could only hear your soft snores in response.

When you awoke the next morning, your phone was dead. You groggily plugged your phone into the charging port and turned it back on.

A text from Jisung.

Sleep tight y/n. I hope you enjoyed the song I played. I’ll assume you did since you fell asleep so quickly hehe~ I tried staying on the phone with you but the call suddenly ended 5 hours in.

You titled your head to the side as you read this text. Did he really stay on the phone with you for five hours after you fell asleep? You smiled. You really couldn’t believe him.

—————————

Jisung had finally returned from his trip and you were incredibly eager to see him again. But every time you texted him asking if he wanted to study together or whether he was at work that day, he never replied. Still, you continued going to the bakery for lunch and even then, you hadn't seen him working at the bakery since his return.

On such a day, however, you did notice Jeno working.

“Hi Jeno,” You greeted him as you walked up to the register with your items.

“It’s y/n! Hi!” He greeted you with a bright smile. “How ya doing?”

“… I was wondering where Jisung is? I haven’t seen him in a while... Did he quit?”

“Jisung? Oh no, he didn’t quit. He’s just working less this week because of jet lag, so he’s been working in the evening shifts.”

“Ah… I see.”

“Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No… It’s just that he hasn’t answered any of my texts so I was kinda worried…”

“Ohh, I see… Well, it’s probably because he—“ Jeno suddenly cut off mid-sentence, eyes wide as if he said something wrong, and pursed his lips together in a tight line. He then let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s nothing. Nevermind what I just said. Don’t worry about Jisung, he’ll answer you soon.”

“… If you say so…”

“Okay is this all for you? Your total is $11.59.”

—————————

Jeno was right. Jisung texted you a couple of days later.

Hey! Sorry I haven’t responded to your texts. I’ve been busy with something. Can you meet me at the bakery tonight at closing?

You were so perplexed by his actions. Not speaking to you for a week after his return from his trip even though you missed him so much drove you near madness. Now this sudden cryptic text with a vague explanation and asking to meet at the bakery for no disclosed reason? You sighed. You really couldn’t understand it. But if going to the bakery meant answers, then that’s where you’ll meet him.

You approached the bakery’s store front almost exactly a minute before it closed. You peered into the windows. The bakery was all cleaned up yet there was no sight of Jisung. Strange.

You opened the door. The bells jingled behind you. As the door shut, you could hear the sound of music being played softly through the speakers. You looked around, brows furrowed in confusion. Still no sight of Jisung. On the table in the far corner near the windows--the one you always sit at--was a milk tea bun and a cup of brown sugar milk tea. You sat down at the table. The music continued playing softly. The sound was melodic, with gentle guitar strums and harmonious chords. Actually… It sounded quite familiar.

Then, the soft sound of a man singing. Your eyes widened slightly upon realizing that it was Jisung’s voice singing. The lyrics spoke of a person with a kind and charming smile with bright, vibrant eyes and a passionate soul. A person who is thoughtful and lovely, who is ethereal like the stars at night. A person that is easy to fall in love with. You listened carefully, completely captivated by Jisung’s singing voice. This was the first time you had ever heard Jisung sing and you wanted to relish in his melodic voice. But the song soon ended and a dull silence filled the bakery. Then, the door to the employee’s room opened, causing you to turn your head towards it.

“Jisung?”

He smiled, walking towards you. “Did the song sound familiar? It’s the song I played to you that night to help you go to sleep. It’s a song I’ve been working on for you and I finally finished it yesterday. I wanted to finish it as soon as possible, so that’s why I haven’t been answering your texts lately… I’m sorry.” He sat down next to you, giving you a genuinely apologetic smile. You were in disbelief. When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “I… This song is meant for you. To… confess my feelings to you. I know I ignored you for a whole week, so I hope this can make up for it…” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them, looking directly at you, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “Y/n… I like you… a lot… You had me in your hold that day we met here, at this bakery. I didn’t know I could like a person as much as I like you. And I love spending time with you, studying, doing homework, watching movies… and I want to keep being with you like this… So, will you be my girlfriend?”

You were in shock at his heartfelt confession. He was absolutely adorable and kind in every way you could imagine. “What if I say no?” You teased. Jisung visibly deflated and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his cute reaction. You quickly continued, “I’m joking Jisung. I accept your apology. The song is… wonderful. I can’t begin to describe how amazing it is…” You gave him a smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Thank you. Of course I’ll be yours.”

He took you into his arms and gave you a warm, tight, loving hug. He released you from his hold, though still gazing into your eyes. His eyes darted down to your lips, then back at you. He cleared his throat. “Um… May I… uh… kiss you?”

You smiled widely and nodded your head, a giddy feeling in your stomach. You didn’t wait for him to react before putting your hand on the back of his neck, gently pushing him towards you, and meeting his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and sweet. He tasted like mint candy (you wondered if he ate a mint in preparation for this).

Once you broke apart, Jisung beamed, a pink tint to his cheeks. He sighed happily. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

His smile was so adorable, you couldn’t resist to lean in again and kiss him on the corner of his lip. “Wait no longer. You can now have as many kisses as you want.”

His smile only grew wider. “It’s late. Let me walk you home?”

—————————

You walked into your favorite bakery, the bells jingled to signal your entrance. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making you smile. Your eyes caught the last milk tea bun sitting alone in its clear case. Without a second thought, you went over to take it. Just as you reached for it, someone was also reaching for it.

“Oh, sorry!” You brushed hands with the other person. You turned to look at who it was. A smile spread across your face. “You take it this time.”

Jisung smiled. “No,” He took the milk tea bun and placed it into your hands. “It’s yours now.”

“Jisung re-“

“No take backs!” He quickly leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before turning and walking away. Your cheeks flushed.

“H-Hey… There’s people around…” Your fingers touched the skin where he kissed you.

Jisung swiveled his head to look at you, giving a bright smile. “I’ll make it up to you with a movie at my place tonight?”

You sighed, smiling. “I can’t say no to that.”

#nct imagines #nct dream #park jisung #park jisung fanfic #park jisung x reader #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #park jisung nct #nct scenarios #kpop scenarios #nct dream scenarios #mywriting #blueming kpop imagines

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emwritesstuff · 3 years

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as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

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