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#But honestly it went on for years before that as well she getting picked up by this dude she was messing around with while i had to walk
octoberautumnbox · 3 months
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I Got All I Need
Le Sserafim Kim Chaewon (ft. Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader)
Categories/warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation, voyeurism i think, anal, abuse, rough sex, like really really rough sex (kinda)
Word count: 1.6k
a/n: wrote on a whim lol no proofread no beta im sorry anways--
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Chaewon lay bored in her bed, having exhausted her SNS feeds and Watch Later playlist. Her members sent all manner of pictures with their families and other friends in the groupchat, and honestly, genuinely, Chaewon was happy for them! And just a teeny bit envious, that's all, cross her heart and hope to die.
Her phone read 6:06 pm, and on her first long weekend off in the year, she had nothing to do. She was getting desperate for some fun. She opened her contacts app and punched in a random number.
"Ah, sorry, Chaewon-ssi," the voice on the other end of the line admitted, "Yena won't be back in Korea until next Friday. I'll let her know you called."
"Hi, this is Eunbi! I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you in a jiffy!" Of course she uses an answering machine, Chaewon thought.
"Hi, Unnie!" Chaewon was overjoyed! "Hey Minmin, I was just curious if you were down to eat--" The sound of a bell rang loud in the other side of the phone call. "Oops, I'm really really sorry Unnie. Gotta get back now. Long night ahead of us, they're even killing my character again today! See you soon!"
Looking to her closet, Chaewon's mind was half-set to just put on a warm coat and go out alone. That's a thing people do nowadays, right? Go out and eat by themselves?
Sighing, she went for one last-ditch effort. She knows she won't pick up. She knows that even if she does, she wouldn't want to come out. She knows that if she wants to come out, it'll be shabu-shabu and sitting around by the Han River. "Oh well," Chaewon resigned, "At least I won't be alone."
She scrolled down her contacts and found her name. Tap, tap, tap, and the ringing started. One ring, two, three, and four. Chaewon expected this, so much so that she's not even disappointed.
"H-hello?" Chaewon fought back a gasp! "Hey, hi Yuri! I was going to go out for a bite--"
"Ah, fuck..." Silence filled the phone line for a good few seconds before Yuri's end broke it again. "Shit, th-that's really good."
"Yuri?" "Ffffuck yes, just like that..." Disbelief filled Chaewon's mind. "Sorry," Yuri struggled to whisper, "wh-who is this?"
"It's... It's Chaewo-" "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, please..."
Chaewon had half a mind to just drop the call then and there, and she should, right? This is one of her best friends in the world. Busy, as they say, with something important.
"Unnie, I'm so sorry, I just have the thickest cock ripping my asshole apart right now, ahhh, oh fuck, OH FUCK!"
Although, as much as Chaewon wants to deny it, dropping the call was out of the question now. She had to know just what exactly was going on.
"Are you okay, Yuri? Do... you need me to call someone?"
"Haahhhhh... Ahh, AHHHH!" Yuri's scream ripped through the phone line, and Chaewon couldn't keep her own free hand from straying anymore.
"Unnie, I... I need y-you... to keep a... a secret," It was hard for Chaewon to decipher what her friend was saying, between every moan and grunt littered across her speech. She couldn't resist, though, that she was paying more attention to them than whatever words could be spilling out of Yuri's mouth.
"I'm... with my... with my boyfriend. He's p-pounding my ass right now..." Chaewon was groping her own ass at that moment, and she could feel herself getting moist.
She heard whispering at the other end. Yuri's voice rang clearer, even if a bit shakier. "He says... if I end the call... he'll tie me up and, and leave me," Yuri's breaths are heavy and laced with exhaustion, "un-until morning. So I'm sorry, but I can't... Mmmmff..."
Chaewon couldn't believe she was getting hot to the sound of her friend getting fucked hard. There was no way pure, sweet, innocent Yuri was like this, right? Absolutely impossible.
And yet, she found her own hand slipping under her panties. She felt her smooth pussy lips, how they were slick against her fingers, and how her insides were starting to burn up.
"Unnie... he's making me tell you..." Chaewon was all ears now, desperate for more.
"I have six inches of cock up my ass... and three ffffingers... in my soaking cunt." Three wouldn't fit, Chaewon thought, so she settled for two inside herself. Her pussy lips parted for them, and Chaewon let out a tiny "mmmh."
"He... he's rubbing my clit, and... AHHH--" Chaewon was palming her own clit as her fingers shoved themselves slowly in and out of her pussy, letting more of her juices out and onto her panties.
"... and he's s-slapping and pinching it, Unnie..." Frustrated and in heat, Chaewon frantically stripped and kicked away both her shorts and panties; they were ruined anyway. She lay comfortably back onto her bed and spread her legs, in prime position for her own missionary fucking, with regrettably nothing more than her left hand.
"And Unnie..." Her former member's deep and heavy breaths occupied the phone line. "P-please... don't let this... change how you see me... God, please, no..."
Chaewon pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy hard now. Her juices were falling all over her bedsheets, and the scent of her sex reaching her nose only spurred her on.
"Yuri... Tell me."
"He... he creampied me, Unnie..." Suddenly, Chaewon's hips lifted off the bed momentarily as she heard this. Her fingers found a good spot as she returned to the bed, and from then on strove to hit it again and again and again.
"More, Yuri-yah... please..." She couldn't hide it anymore, Chaewon was moaning just as loudly now as her beloved friend.
"Th-three times, Unnie... in my ass..." Chaewon's eyes shut tight as her brain locked onto what was being said. "And... six... I think, in my... my pussy... oh- OH GOD!"
Chaewon started grinding against her palm, forcing more pleasure through her crotch. She humped against the air, lifting and dropping her hips in a needy bid for her sweet release.
"FUCK! Unnie, I can't remember-- Shhhhhit, shitshitshitshit... How- how many times he came in my cunt- AHHHH!"
She could hear it so much better now, how her friend's ass slapped against her boyfriend's waist. Yuri's moans rang louder still, pushing her phone's speaker to its limit.
"Unnie, holy fuck, Unnie... Please... don't..." Yuri collected herself for a moment before starting again. "He... he has my-my nipples in clamps, too... It hurts so good, Chaewon-unnie, shit... everything is so good..."
Chaewon struggled against her top, and managed to get all of it up past her chest and under her neck. Her breasts bounced out from under her bra and relaxed. She pinched and squeezed her left nipple as hard as she could, feeling the nub stiffen against her fingertips.
"And I came, Unnie..." Her fingers returned to pleasuring her now-leaking pussy. Chaewon rubbed around her lips to collect more of her slick, before shoving now three of her fingers inside her.
"I came so... so many times. F-fifteen... before I- ahhh- lost c-count." Chaewon found her pace and rhythm again. She pistoned her fingers into and out of her sex as her moans reached the other end of the line too.
"Fuck, Yuri-yah, that sounds so fucking good... I'm close... I'm so close!"
"He's forcing me t-to tell you, Unnie, ahhhhh..."
Chaewon shut her eyes again, wishing, imagining it was her getting the railing of her life. Only now did she realize how big the wet spot on her bed between her legs was.
"I'm... Unnie, I'm... his slut. I'm his ffffuuuckdoll..."
Chaewon was straining herself now, her arm muscles burning with overexertion. She felt her cunt leak so much of her sex all over her hand. She wildly fingered her g-spot, praying that her climax comes soon.
"I'm his pleasure girl, Unnie," Chaewon heard her friend's voice break with sobs between words and moans. "I'm his slutty, hhhorny, p-personal o-onahole..."
At this point, Chaewon was sobbing too. Why couldn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why can't she be the one getting sexually taken advantage of? She even bet she could make Yuri's boyfriend feel worlds better than Yuri ever could.
"I'm his... I'm his slutty fucking cumdump, Unnie! He fucks me raw and creampies my cunt- AHHHHH- and I love when he fills my womb up so much it leaks out of my abused pussy!"
A scream dragged itself across Chaewon's throat, and she made sure both Yuri and her boyfriend heard. Chaewon's arm burned hotter with overfatigue as she was nearly breaking her own pussy with how hard she was pumping. "Fuck, Yuri! Please! I need to cum!"
"Fuck, Unnie, me too! Shit, Unnie, I have to tell you..."
Tears streamed down Chaewon's cheeks now, her crotch and thighs soaked with her slick. She's already lost control of herself and fully gave in to her body's desires, wailing cries and moans that she couldn't even recognize as her own anymore.
"I'm not safe, Unnie! I'm so fucking f-fertile! He's going to make me pregnant! H-he's put- FUCKING SHIT, PLEASE DADDY- He's putting a fucking baby in my womb!!! AAAHHHHHHH!"
"FFFFUCK, YURI! HOLY FUCK I'M CUMMING SO MUCH!!!"
Chaewon's cum sprayed out of her sore cunt in intense streams. Chaewon forcefully pulled her fingers out as her hips convulsed violently, wringing out every last drop of her climax. She kept squirting for what felt like ages, and with every spurt of her girlcum she grew less and less alert.
Her eyes were heavy, and her ears were failing her. Her hands dropped to the sides, as did her waist onto the mattress as her climax overwhelmingly resolved. She grew less and less aware of her heart beating out of her chest, and, finally, passed out naked on her cum-soaked bed.
a/n: lmao jesus christ anyways this wasn't the incest smut i was talking abt that's still in the works
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oliviajdjarin · 4 months
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Joel Miller: Stay Down
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (she/her; afab)
Word count: 3.2k
Summary: Joel thought he had grown accustomed to fear until he finds you covered in blood.
Excerpt: He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.
He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.
Warnings: stitching of a wound, kissing, blood, blood loss, so much yearning, unestablished relationship, probably incorrect gun talk, Joel is scared of feelings.
A/N: This is me coping with the fact that we do not get more last of us in January. Also partially inspired by my favorite song maybe ever.
Pedro Masterlist
All my writing
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Joel had found his hands becoming more and more susceptible to the cold as he got older.
They would crack and bleed, flaking dried skin within his decades-old gloves before November had even begun. This not only hurt like hell, but forced him to slow down and think about what he was doing to his body for once in his life. He had a harder time gripping the reins on a horse or fingering the trigger on a shotgun. Noticeably so. And living in a small town with a little brother foaming at the mouth to make old man jokes didn't help matters.
This is what led him to you.
He wouldn't call you a hoarder. Honestly, he would be the first to admit that you were one of the smartest people in Jackson. You had somehow become one of the most materialistically rich people in the town. You consistently managed to find the most randomly useful items on your patrols, things that people before the outbreak would never have even thought to miss.
Things like shoe insoles, ball point pens, Chapstick.
And luckily for him, lotion.
You never charged anyone for taking from what you had. Furthermore, you actively asked people if they needed anything. Even offering to scout around the area in search of specifics. Joel hadn't been around that kind of softness since...
Well, a long time.
This made him uncharacteristically nervous when he first approached your doorstep, but he knocked anyway. He had never in a million years expected to leave that house satisfied in more ways than one.
He blamed it on that stupid crinkle the skin underneath your eyes got whenever you smiled at him. He couldn't help but fall into your light.
This started a... friendship. Of sorts. He would come over when he needed you, and you would happily oblige. As time went on, the visits to yours became more and more frequent, frequent enough that the rest of the town seemed to be catching on. At least, that's what his brother had been hinting at through jabs and side comments.
"You smiled at me the other day, Joel," Tommy had said. "Actually smiled."
Joel responded with a gesture he was hoping Ellie would not pick up anytime soon.
Joel was...happy. Happy with the arrangement. He had a warm body – a fucking gorgeous warm body – to get his energy out with, and the woman inside the body seemingly had no issue with his lack of strings attached.
And yet, for some reason, this annoyed him.
There was some undetectable, bruised part of him that wanted you to…what exactly? Fight him on it? Confess your undying love for him? Pull him back into bed to cuddle?
There had to be either pheromones or crack cocaine in that honeyed floral perfume you always wore. You were beginning to drive him this insane. Unfortunately for him, the place he went when he was beginning to toe that line into insanity was always you.
Joel had checked the schedule posted in the main square, assigning every able-bodied person shifts of patrol. You had a shift earlier in the day, which usually kept you busy until noon. You would then shower, eat, and spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever the hell you wanted.
Overtime, these mental gymnastics became muscle memory to Joel.
He huffed as he lugged his aching legs up your steps, their typical milk white now coated in an ugly muddy brown. Winter had begun, apparent by the puffs of Joel’s own breaths, and the snow in Jackson was trying desperately to keep up.
Joel balled his hands into fists as he planted both feet onto your porch, blowing into them quickly, before knocking three times. Spaced out enough, but not too much. He envisioned you smiling as you heard his signature knock, but cringed at himself internally, burying the thought instantly.
It fluttered back to the surface when he heard the pads of your footsteps somewhere in the house begin but extinguished itself when they dissipated.
He waited a few more seconds, the rational part of his brain saying that you must be in the middle of something, but the man part of his brain imagining you putting on your silky red robe he loved so much, only for him to take it off you so slowly it made his own fingers shake. He breathed in deep, the laundry detergent from his nylon coat mixed with the beginnings of December filling his nose, and cracked his neck while rocking back and forth on his heels.
His eyebrows came together when he heard another rustle, then nothing.
He knocked again.
Still, nothing,
He knew you were in there – he could hear you, clear as day, and he knew you could hear him – but for some reason, you weren’t coming to the door.
His much too weathered mind began to race, thinking of three possible explanations. One, you heard him knocking, and were ignoring him. Two, you somehow were not hearing him knock on the door. Or three, you for some reason were not able to get to the door.
Meaning, there was a possibility you weren’t alone in there, and not by choice.
“Y/N?” he asked loudly. “Y/N, are you in there?”
Nothing. A bit more rustling, maybe a slight groan, but nothing.
Joel’s fingers began to tingle, and it wasn’t from the cold. He knocked again, harder.
“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” he said loudly, “just…just tell me you’re okay.”
Silence.
He gripped the doorknob and jiggled it, hard enough for the wood to groan underneath his fingertips, but it was locked from the inside. He huffed, knocking again, his hot breaths now clouding his face. He felt an ache in his wrist.
He said your name one more time, hearing the beginnings of a voice he knew better than he should have muffled by the wood, and the door was flat in front of him before he could think twice.
He stomped his way inside, coating the ground with mud and snow, and his eyes darted around the familiar living room. His vision was tunneled, scrounging for the shape of you on the floor, draped over the couch, held at gunpoint. His heart pulsed in his ears.
You weren’t in the living room.
He stomped into the kitchen, the bathroom, the basement, nothing. All that was left was the bedroom.
There was no way in hell you were still asleep.
He practically sprinted to the room, preparing himself. He had seen what men did to women, the remnants of it anyway, and despite his state of denial, he could never in a million years handle the sight of you that way. In your own bed. In your own house. Likely one of your own friends.
He pulled open the door anyway, and was met with gold.
The room was dim except for the lamps you loved so dearly, spreading their warm, glowing, honeyed light across the room in streaks. He blinked his eyes to adjust, focusing in on your body on the bed. You were facing him, skin painted with similar golden streaks, highlighting the tears culminating under your eyes. You were sat crisscrossed, upper body totally bare, back slouched tightly, your body practically folded in on itself. Your right hand was pressed against your left shoulder blade, while your other was filled with wine-colored rags.
Blood-soaked rags.
His eyes met yours quickly, and despite their dampness, they still had that fucking crinkle.
You chuckled, your shoulders dropping up and down quickly as they always do.
“You know,” you said, voice curdled and tired, “if someone doesn’t answer the door, that’s usually them saying ‘leave me the hell alone.”
You chuckled again, this time finishing it off with a wince.
His hand slid slowly from the doorknob as he took a hesitant step towards you, his body tearing itself in half. One side begging to fold your body into him, bubbling you in a cocoon. The other, itching to tear whatever did this to you apart ligament by ligament.
Your eyes slowly drooped from humor to something like shame, like a kicked dog or a broken child, and he stepped forward again.
“Don’t,” you countered weakly. “Just…just don’t.”
You scooted away from him slightly, refusing to look at him, and applied more pressure to whatever was expelling that much blood from your shoulder. Pain was suddenly present in your face.
“You want me to leave?” he quickly countered.
You said nothing.
He walked to you, removing the hand you had pressed against your wound, and sucked in a quick breath.
“Probably the first time you’ve seen a revolver bullet in about twenty years, huh Joel?” you asked, chuckling once more.
He barely heard you.
You had gotten the bullet out, but it had sunken in deep. The skin around it was red and welting, so swollen that Joel had to guess you had already been working on it for at least an hour. He winced, imagining what kind of pain you were in, and the fact that you were dealing with it all yourself.
He swallowed grimly.
“Hand me that rag,” he said. He could tell how little strength you had left to fight him by how quickly the rag flopped into his hand.
He pressed it to the wound, and you hissed.
“Fuck Joel,” you whined, squeezing the covers of your bed so tightly your knuckles went white. He held his pressure, forcing himself to think straight.
He might as well have been feeling the pain in his own shoulder.
He finally eased his pressure, wiping away as much blood from the area as he could.
“You cleaned it pretty well,” he said softly, voice thick in his throat, so thick it was hard to speak. “But…it’s gonna need a stich or two.”
“Or seven,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit sat in the middle of the bed. You opened the bag with shaking hands, taking out the needle and thread. You attempted to begin threading the needle, but with your hands quaking so fiercely you only produced frustrated grunts and sighs. He moved to the front of the bed, the front of his body facing yours, and took the needle and thread from your hands, setting them to the side. He then held your hands in his, squeezing them slightly, before using one to tilt your chin up at him.
He sighed at the storm in your eyes.
“What happened?”
“Did you kick my fucking door down?”
“What happened?”
“I was stupid, that’s what happened.”
He sighed again. “You’ve never once been stupid.”
“Today I was.”
“How?”
“It’s how I always am.” Your voice cracked. “Thought I could pick some apples for Mrs. Lawrence down the street. She always talks about how much she loved that as a kid – a freshly picked apple. Went out too far. Felt a sudden burning in my shoulder and ended up having to take out six hunters all by myself. Six.”
A single tear dripped from your left eye, the gold from the lamps turning it to sunlight.
“I could’ve died. All for a fucking apple.”
You turned away from him again, and it took everything in him not to cup your face in his hands and turn you back to him. He had never seen you like this before. So… raw. Beaten. Trampled. Doused in self-hatred. He hated it.
And yet, he didn’t want to look away. He was slowly realizing that this was the part of you he had been desperate to see. Truth. Undercarriage. Weakness.
Human.
He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.
He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.
Slowly, gentler than he ever had in his life, he brought his mouth to your cheekbone. You exhaled a prolonged breath, the heat of it cascading down the left side of his neck. It only prompted him to kiss you more, and more, and more. His lips traveling up into your hairline, across your forehead, down your nose, and finally onto your lips. His kiss there was tongueless, rather a soft press, and yet it meant more to him than any other one you had ever shared.
He could tell by your breathing that you agreed.
He pressed his forehead against yours, swallowing thickly. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know…I don’t know what I would do if you did.”
Your stormy eyes turned into a sunrise, and Joel straightened his aching back to slowly remove his coat and boots. He placed them on the floor beside your bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. You watched him just the same, mouth propped open slightly.
He smirked as he set his things down. He then picked up the needle and thread while using his free hand to frame your face.
“I’ll be gentle,” he said, his thumb stroking your chin. “I promise.”
You nodded. “I know you will.”
His lips wanted to meet yours so badly it hurt, but he needed to stitch you. Quickly. For a wound as deep as the one you had, it should have been closed up hours ago.
He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t.
He walked to the edge of the bed and turned you around, leaning you into him slightly to give your pretzeled back some support, and began.  
You were surprisingly unreactive when he first inserted the needle, taking it as delicately as he possibly could. It wasn’t until he began to tug the skin together that your body showed signs of pain.
“You’re going too slow,” you mumbled softly after he finished the second stitch. “Please go faster.”
His hands began to shake at your request. He didn’t blame you. Speed would make it hurt worse, but be over with quicker. He squeezed the top of your shoulder in response, threading the needle quickly and stitching over the center of the wound.
You let out a high-pitched whine, gripping onto the comforter at your side, and he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your neck.
He let your breathing steady, then stitched again, this time kissing your shoulder blade.
Another stitch, a kiss across your shoulders.
Another stitch, a kiss down your spine.
Another stitch, a kiss on your lower back.
After every stitch, he planted one. Something in him couldn’t help it.
He made his final stitch and cut the thread quickly, sealing it with a kiss on the side of your face. He tasted a mix of salty tears and heat from your skin. He watched your throat bobble as he moved away, finishing off the wound with a final cleaning. Alcohol and blood filled the air, along with undertones of sweat.
He had a feeling that last aroma came mostly from him.
He threw the needle and thread away into the small garbage can you kept near your bed before turning back to face you. You rested on the balls of your palms, leaning back to look at him as he walked back towards you. There was pain visible behind your eyes, he could see it, but they were coated in something else. Something somehow rawer than before.
“You should rest now,” he said, scruff evident in his voice from lack of use. He cleared it quickly. “You took a hell of a hit.”
You didn’t move. Joel moved to the first aid kit still sitting in the middle of the bed and used the (what had to be decades old) wet wipes on his hands. He tossed those as well, but you still hadn’t moved.
“There somethin’ on my face?”
You cracked a small smile. “Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly.
He hummed. “Don’t mention it.” He then leaned forward and scooped your body into his arms. You involuntarily rested against him, eyes fluttering already, but he set you down beneath your sheets and swiftly pulled them over you.
He laughed at your fight against your own exhaustion, pushing stray hairs away from your forehead. He pulled away from you, beginning to walk out of the room. A fierce grip pulled him backwards.
“Stay,” you mumbled weakly. “Please stay.”
He inhaled deeply. The sweet cocktail of your voice mixed with those words fucking inebriating him, so much so he was surprised he was still standing up straight. He felt physically winded.
He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back. Stay down.”
You smiled, loosening your grip, letting your hand fall back into the bed.
Joel walked quietly out of the room but would be the last to admit how he practically sprinted to your kitchen and scoured your cabinets like a man being chased. He found your pain meds, pouring two into his hand, and filling up a small glass of water. He gave a slow, silent jog back to your room.
He felt equally as winded when he caught the view of the setting sun between your windows, glazing over you like a statue in Rome he had once seen on a traveling magazine. The streaks of leftover tears were highlighted in the light, as well as a small crease in your brow.
That is what told him you were not quite yet out cold.
He brought the meds and water to you, tucking your hair behind your ear to alert you of his presence. You opened your eyes and practically inhaled the medicine before laying back down on your side.
Joel removed his shirt in a blink and tucked himself in behind you, ensuring your stitches were not firmly pressed against him, but pressed just enough to ease soreness. You curved into him perfectly, as he did to you. He wrapped his arm around your frame, taking your hands in his and massaging them gently.
You hummed. “Promise you’ll stay?”
He knew your voice like that better than any man in the world.
He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder. “I’m stayin.’”
Tag List: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)
@untitledarea @avengersfan25 @lexloon @daphne-turner @leeeesahhh
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quin-ns · 1 year
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Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 2.7K
Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means
Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia
A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)
cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist
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The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.
You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”
As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 
You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.
“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 
“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.
“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 
The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 
Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.
You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.
“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.
“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.
Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”
“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.
“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”
“Who?”
“The dilf.”
“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 
“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.
You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 
You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 
It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.
“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”
“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 
“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.
You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 
“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 
She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.
“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”
“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 
You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”
“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”
“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.
“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 
You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 
The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.
“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 
“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.
“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.
You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 
“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”
You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.
You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.
“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.
You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.
Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.
You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.
You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.
“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.
How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.
“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.
“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.
When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 
“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.
That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”
You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.
Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”
“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”
Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”
“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.
“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.
“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 
“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”
“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 
“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.
You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”
“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 
“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.
“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.
“Sure, yeah.”
“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”
You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.
“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”
“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 
You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”
“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 
Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 
“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.
“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.
“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.
Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”
Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.
Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 
“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”
“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.
Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.
“Do you think I’m one?”
You nearly choked on your water. “What?”
“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”
“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”
Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”
“Yes.”
Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 
“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 
“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 
You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.
Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 
“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 
The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.
“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.
“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”
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joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee
if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3
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virgamsysxvolumes · 2 months
Text
The Haunting of Masters Manor
Inspiration from this post (here) from @dclovesdanny
[Tags/TW: Trans!Danny, implied SA(false), implied grooming(false), de-aged Danielle, de-aged Dan, ghost pregnancy, destabilized clones, dead Fentons, ghost Jazz, grieving, platonic yandere(Vlad), passively suicidal thoughts, emotional manipulation, misunderstandings, eavesdropping, OCs for plot reasons]
Daniel Masters was a very strange young man, well, teenager. He had transferred into Gotham Academy about halfway through the year under somewhat mysterious circumstances just a year ago. About maybe a month or two after that, he had been pulled out of school for so long that he had only returned after the summer vacation they had been allotted. There were plenty of rumors about what happened but nothing that seemed even remotely true. After months of observation Damian Wayne honestly felt no closer to figuring out what was going on.
Damian had very pressing concerns about Daniel’s home life however as there were very concerning red flags that he had managed to pick up just from observation. Daniel almost always showed up exhausted and somewhat sad despite his persistent optimism and friendly demeanor. There are times that Daniel shows up with bruises that he hides fairly well from all but Damian and Jon. Jon had already informed him that he had a concerningly slow heart rate that sometimes even skipped and a very low body temperature that only made sense for a meta, anyone else would be dead with that low a temperature. Despite Daniel’s friendliness and open kindness he actively keeps from forming actual bonds with others. He never talks about his home life or family.
Luckily an opportunity came to Damian in the form of a group project that forced him and Daniel to partner up. It was a science project that Damian could admit to having little interest in, not that he would ever allow for a bad grade. Despite Daniel’s clear reluctance and protests Damian had managed to actually convince him to allow him to work in Daniel’s home, his excuse being that they would likely be harassed if they went to a public space and that his own home was far too chaotic for proper study. Daniel didn’t quite seem to believe him but had still caved and they scheduled a day much later in the week.
The Masters’ Manor was somewhere in the upper class gated community. Masters’ clearly enjoyed displaying his questionably gained wealth. Things had been mostly normal and uneventful for the most part, they had been in the manor library when the first actual glimpse into Daniel’s life was at last displayed. There had been a gentle but sharp knock at the library door and Daniel immediately went on alert and stood up quickly.
“Excuse me a moment.” Daniel offered almost as an afterthought as he walked quickly to the door.
Daniel opened the door to a young maid, she looked as though she were about the age to be in college. She seemed contrite and concerned, glancing at Damian briefly before leaning over to whisper in Daniel’s ear. Damian could not hear what was said but Daniel seemed to both relax and seem more anxious all at once.
“Thanks Rosie,” Daniel turned to Damian again. “I’ll be back in like twenty, uh, just chill out here and I promise we’ll work more when I get back.”
Daniel left and Rosie glanced over at Damian with a flat expression, he could not tell what she was thinking but she seemed to come to some sort of decision and left Damian where he was without actually speaking to him. Damian had thought she might keep an eye on him or at least offer some refreshments if only to be polite but her behavior was a bit odd. Still, Damian would not look a gift horse in the mouth and when he felt it safe chose to follow after Daniel at a safe distance. Daniel was so anxious and tired he did not notice Damian tailing him at all. He went to a room with yet another nondescript oak door and went inside without knocking. Suddenly the sound of the anguished wails of what was clearly a baby met his ears, shocking him so much he almost was not fast enough to keep the door from closing so that he could listen in.
“My apologies Master Danny, I just couldn’t get him to stop screaming.” A woman’s voice sighed exhausted. “I think he might have realized that you were late or something. He hasn’t stopped crying since you got home and has made himself sick. Even little Ellie has been somewhat inconsolable.”
“It’s alright, he might have just been worried.” Danny said the wailing lowered and slowed to whimpering and hiccups until the crying stopped completely. “Aye, Dan you mischief maker. Why are you harassing Nanny Fey?”
“Mama! Mama, hurt?” There was another voice in the room, clearly that of someone so young they had not yet mastered words just yet.
“No sweetheart, Dan’s not hurt he was just upset.” Daniel’s voice coaxed.
Damian’s stomach clenched with a plethora of mixed emotions as his mind raced at what he just heard. Damian pushed the door open just a crack further so that he could peek inside, he knew it was risky but he couldn’t seem to help it. There was an elderly woman sitting with her head in her hands in a rocking chair in the corner of what was clearly a nursery. Daniel was sitting in a massive bean bag chair, a tiny red faced baby in his arms and a slightly bigger baby, just barely about to be a toddler sitting curled up to his side. Both babies looked like almost perfect copies of Daniel. Damian was not even sure what he should be feeling looking upon them, he did not have much time to think on it as he heard footsteps approaching and snapped his attention up to the maid he had seen before, Rosie.
Rosie once again looked at him with a blank expression, but instead of calling attention to his presence or questioning him she reached out and gently clicked the door shut while maintaining eye contact with him. Damian was shocked, but also realized that something deeper was going on here. Rosie had clearly known that Damian would snoop, had wanted him to see what he had. But had avoided outright telling him that anything was going on.
“...Bugs seem to follow Master Danny around.” Rosie spoke in a soft and mellow tone, it did not sound like an insult but Damian still scowled. “It is best to return to the library and stay there. Follow me.”
Damian considered his options but followed after the woman. She was quiet as they walked but she walked at an unusually slow pace. Damian frowned but took the opportunity she was presenting.
“May I ask you some questions?” Damian asked.
“I will answer what I am legally allowed.” Rosie told him, not turning to look at him.
“Who are those children?” Damian pressed, Rosie was quiet for a moment.
“They are Danielle Celeste Masters and Danior Altair Masters, Mr. Masters and Master Danny would tell you that they are Master Danny’s siblings.” Rosie answered, Damian understood that to mean they were very much not siblings.
“Does Danior have anything to do with the reason Daniel was missing from class for a third of last year?” Damian asked.
“Master Dan had everything to do with his absence.” Rosie stated.
“What is the relationship between Vladimir Masters and Daniel Masters?” Damian demanded.
“Mr. Masters and Master Danny would tell you that Mr. Masters is his godfather. His parents best friend since college and his primary guardian since just a little under two years ago. He took Master Danny in after the tragic deaths of his parents and elder sister leaving him with no one else to take him in.” Rosie explained in a dull tone. “They met when Master Danny was just fourteen. Mr. Masters loves his precious godson very much Mr. Wayne, he is very protective of him…Though he tends to be somewhat disinterested in his siblings.”
“...How does Masters treat Daniel?” Damian asked, he was trying to ask questions what would give him answers without being too pointed at the exacts he wanted.
“Mr. Masters treats Master Danny as his most valuable treasure. He very much likes for others to know of Master Danny’s existence and achievements but also protects him as a dragon would their hoard.” Rosie told him. “We are here, there is nothing else I can answer for now.”
“Thank you Miss Rosie.” Damian offered somewhat stiffly. 
There was so much that he hated about everything he had just learned. This was a far bigger problem than simply domestic abuse as he had suspected and there were now delicate variables involved complicating the danger. He could not risk agitating Vladimir Masters without first extracting and hiding away Daniel and his children. There was also the concern that Vladimir Masters was actually a hidden meta as the clues behind his sudden rise to billionaire status subtly hinted at. Damian had done quite a bit of digging but he had not been able to dig much farther once Vladimir Masters had spent a couple years living in Amity Park, there was even less information on Daniel who had been born and raised in Amity Park.
At that point it became obvious that Damian would need to call in assistance.
Danny’s Perspective
“Daniel,” Vlad greeted amiably.
“Fruitloop.” Danny returned, his tone tired and a little annoyed.
Danny was laid out on a couch in the spacious living room, Dan curled up on his chest and Ellie laying on the floor on her tummy as she scribbled all over a coloring book in bright blue crayon. Vlad approached them and sat on the arm of the couch, his hand landing on Danny’s head as the man pet his hair. Danny sighed and frowned at him but did not bother to fight or argue with him. He clearly did not have the energy for his usual defiance.
“Did you have fun with your little friend?” Vlad asked.
“He’s not a friend, just a classmate.” Danny sighed. “We didn’t even get much of the project done. Dan sensed me in the house and was upset that I didn’t go see him.”
“You coddle them too much.” Vlad spoke dismissively, Danny scowled at him. “You should have let the nanny handle it, that’s what she was hired for.”
“They’re just babies, you know they don’t understand why I need alone time yet and the nanny isn’t me. They’re not bonded to her in the same way. We’re lucky they let her watch them at all during the day.” Danny sighed clearly exhausted.
“They are clearly exhausting you.” Vlad pointed out.
“I’ve always had problems sleeping... The kids really aren’t the problem here.” Danny told him flatly.
“Yes, yes. I am constantly the villain in your tragic tale.” Vlad sighed, rolling his eyes somewhat condescendingly.
“Well, there is an entire list of plots against my friends, family, and person that you have deliberately made simply to either aggravate me or force me under your control.” Danny huffed.
“You never forget a slight do you Daniel?” Vlad sighed before smirking. “Good, never forget and never forgive a trespass.”
“If I never forgave a slight I would have murdered you after you cost us four other children with your botch-job. You’re lucky Dan and Ellie survived or I’d have pulled your spine out.” Danny snarled, his eyes flashing green.
“Those were simply failures, they hadn’t even managed to reach the stage of sentience. You needn’t grieve for those things.” Vlad spoke at least somewhat dismissively. “Young Danielle survived and Danior has grown quite strong and healthy despite the original setback.”
“No thanks to you! I had to do all the work! I had to go all the way to the Far Frozen for specialized medical help! Again! Ellie’s pregnancy was already a nightmare for me and yet again you couldn’t be bothered to-” Danny had to bite his tongue and take a deep breath to calm down, Dan whined refocusing Danny’s attention to him.
“Will you blame me for every medical mishap they suffer?” Vlad barked, clearly indignant and insulted his eyes glowing red.
“When it comes to the condition that you passed on then yes!” Danny hissed.
“The worst has passed! They are stable and healthy, just be grateful they didn’t melt like the others.” Vlad snapped.
“Vlad, if you don’t get out in the next thirty seconds I’m going to break your spine in half.” Danny warned him, his eyes glowing green.
“Very well Daniel, I see you’re in an unreasonable mood this evening. I will speak to you again in the morning. Do not skip dinner again.” Vlad ordered before leaving.
In the next room over Rosie held perfectly still and tried not to breathe too loudly. What complications! She really couldn’t wait to tell Fey all about it.
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gglitch1dd · 4 days
Text
Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt3
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Warning: Mentions of infidelity, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, mentions of a child's death, Canon typical terrorism and violence. READER DESCRETION IS ADVISED.
[PART 2] [PART 2.5] [Cheating Dilf Izuku MASTERLIST]
“You know why I like being friends with you?” Hanta asked as he looked over to Izuku who sat next to him as the plane slowly went down the runway, just having landed.
Izuku shook his head as he held a cup of juice in hand. “Nope.”
Hanta leaned back with champagne in his glass and an easy smile on his face, the first easy smile in a long time. He looked over to Izuku raised his glass to him. “Cause I get to travel on your private jet.” He stated bluntly making Izuku laugh in amusement.
You and your entire friend group had decided to take a vacation to a resort so that you could all get away from work. It was initially just going to be your family and the Seros, but then the Iidas and the Todorokis were free, then the Satos and then even Bakugou and Kirishima. Soon, you were all booked and flying.
Which is how you found yourself herding your boys out of the private jet one by one. “Hero, no running!” You shouted at your second youngest as you held Koda’s hand as you headed towards the VIP lounge where you would meet your friends. You sighed as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry mom.” Toshinori stated with a hand to your arm and a smile before doing a brisk jog towards where your boys had run off to. “WHAT DID MOM TELL YOU!” He shouted only making you laugh.
You were glad to see the boys so excited for a holiday. It had been just over a year since your last full family holiday and it was nice to go out again. You had to admit that it was a bit hard, packing for the boys and making sure you had all their documentation and realising that one of your boys wouldn’t be going on this trip with you.
You clutched the little stuffed rabbit toy that held just a little bit of your son’s ashes in it. It felt wrong to leave him behind, but then again it also felt wrong to go on this vacation at all despite how needed it was.
Izuku moved to pick up Koda and throw him in the air making the little boy let out a loud giggle. He hoisted him up onto his shoulders to sit there. “You good up there buddy?” He asked as he held onto Koda’s leg as his other hand carried one of the bags you had on the plane with you.
The little four-year old, nodded with a smile. “Yah.” He notified as he held onto his father tightly.
You smiled up at your little boy as you all headed out to collect your bags.
“Hey.”
You turned to look at Mina who gave you a gentle smile, coming up beside you and taking your arm. You gave her a trying smile. “Hi.” You said softly as you leaned against her gently but tried to focus back forward.
Mina’s eyebrows furrowed noticing how hard this was for you. She pulled you tighter against her as the two of you walked side by side. “Y/N…” You turned to look to her with a hum. You looked to Mina who had a sad smile on her face. You then noticed that in her other hand was a little stuffed teddy bear that looked like a cute spider. You knew that within that little teddy bear was the ashes of her daughter. She gave you a nod. “We’ll get through this.” She reminded you.
You smiled, remembering that out of everyone in this world, there were two other people who knew the pain you had been carrying in your heart for the past six months. “We always do.” You told her honestly.
Side by side, the two of you got your bags before heading to the VIP lounge. There you already found Tenya and Mei as well as Denki, Shinso and Jirou. Izuku and the other men got your luggage so long carried towards the pickup area for your hotel while you waited.
You sat in the waiting area with Momo, sipping on a cider when you noticed a certain large man heading towards all of your direction.
“Hey everyone! Sorry we’re late.” Eijiro said with a bright smile, his hair was it’s natural black with a few light grey strands now. He walked beside his new wife of two years who had a noticeable pregnancy bump to her  and his daughter Satomi who had a bright smile as she pulled her own bag, and last but not least his youngest daughter, Reika, who was strapped to his chest dressed in a little Red Riot onesie and chewing on a toy.
“There they are!” Denki said with a broad grin. “We were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
“And miss this?” Eijiro asked as he held his wife’s hand. “Not in the world.” He laughed. Ever since meeting his new wife its as if Eijiro got a piece of himself back again. He seemed brighter and happier since the divorce. Satomi immediately moved over to say her hellos and stand along with Toshinori and their friends.
Shoto looked left and right with a blank expression. “Where’s Bakugou?” He asked.
“Right here you icy hot bastard!” The loud voice of Bakugou Katsuki was heard as he pulled his bag along with a rather board looking Kane who kept headphones on his head as he walked beside his father. Katsuki held a scowl on his face as he carried his and his son’s passports. Katsuki grew sideburns now and still managed to look as burly and mean as ever, but it suited him. He tsked. “Stupid passport lady tried to confiscate my utility belt. Had to pull out my hero permit and everything.” He growled out annoyed.
Kane ignored his father as he walked over to you. He smiled. “Hey Aunty Y/N.” He greeted as he slid off his headphones.
You smiled up at him, putting a hand to his face. “Hey there baby. How have you been doing?” You asked with a sympathetic look. Ever since Eijiro and Katsuki’s divorce, Katsuki had won custody over Kane and the blond lived with him eighty percent of the time.
Kane shrugged looking more and more like his father everyday but still so young and so much softer too. “Same old same old.” He answered cryptically. You knew he wouldn’t answer you immediately. The poor boy had a habit of concealing his real feelings and keeping them away from everyone else. You gave him a sad smile and he took that as a cue to head over to Toshinori and Satomi, who happily accepted her older brother in a hug.
“Great. Now that we’re all here we can head to the hotel!” Tenya stated factually.
You leaned back in your lounge chair as you saw the kids have fun in the pool. Izuku was in the pool with the kids with Hanta and Sato too. They all looked like they were having a great time. Eijiro was at the grill with Shinso and Tenya, getting food started already. Your entire friendgroup had purchased the east side VIP part of the hotel, allowing you a whole lot of freedom and privacy.
Mina let out a hum as she was peering over her glasses at something. She glanced over at you for a moment before looking back forward. “Is it weird that I’m sorta rooting for us to be in-laws.” You raised an eyebrow at what she was saying. She motioned forward at the side of the pool.
You looked over there to see Toshinori sitting at the edge of the pool talking to Hina Sero, Mina and Hanta’s oldest daughter. He seemed like he was having a good time, talking while she laughed as she sat beside him. Unlike Mina she took after her father’s skin tone but had Mina’s eyes so it was easy to see the blush on her face.
You turned to look at Mina with a knowing expression. She looked at you with the same smug expression and laughed. “That would be interesting.” You stated as you decided to spectate a bit more. You noticed Kane was chasing Sonomi Todoroki (Shoto’s daughter) around with a water gun. Satomi was sitting not too far away keeping a lace cover up over herself as she sat in a one-piece swimming costume.
Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “Satomi.” At the sound of your voice, she turned around to look at you. She stood up and walked over to you. Satomi had always been on the chubby side but it suited her so well. You knew she was fit and she always tried to keep in shape but she was just naturally rounder. It made you sad to see her holding her body like that.
“Yes, Aunty Y/N? You need anything?” She asked you politely as she walked over to stand at your side.
“Are you alright? You haven’t dipped into the pool yet.” You expressed your observations as you looked up at her.
She hesitated but gave you a gentle smile. “I’m alright. I just… I don’t know if I’ll have fun.” She confided in you with a shrug.  
“I’m sure you can have a great time! I’m sure Toshinori would do make sure of it. Toshinori!” You called to your son who was sitting at the edge of the pool. He turned to look at you, from the sound of your voice. He waved a hand and stood up, deciding to come to you.
Immediately you saw Satomi get pale. She shook her head, her dyed red hair in a braid over one side of her shoulder. “No, no it’s okay. Toshinori doesn’t have to-”
You waved a hand done. “Stuff and nonsense I’m sure he would be happy to.” You told her as Toshinori walked over.
“Yes mom?” He asked, folding his arms over his bare chest.
“Can you help Satomi have fun?” You asked him sweetly.
He grinned. “Sure. Come on, Satomi.” Without warning, you watched your son pick her up like she was a sack of flower.
Poor Satomi went red in the face as she kicked her legs. “TOSHI! Toshi put me down! I’m heavy!” She complained.
Toshinori seemed unbothered as he shook his head. “Nope. My dad is heavy, you aren’t.” He told her as he ran towards the pool, making the poor girl scream as he jumped inside with her.
“IZUKU!” Eijiro shouted as your husband seemed to have gotten out of the pool heading towards you. Eijiro pointed tongs towards your husband with a glare, before motioning to the pool where Satomi was being curried towards the edge by Toshi. “Get your son away from my daughter!”
“He’s harmless.” Izuku shrugged with a smug look on his face. He motioned to his chest. “He’s just like his old man.”
“Then we’re doomed.” Momo stated nonchalantly making Pony giggle.
You watched as Izuku walked over to you. You watched him with a raised eyebrow until suddenly you were up and off your chair. Your eyes grew wide as you were thrown over your husband’s shoulder. “Izuku? What are you doing?” You asked destressed.
“You haven’t gotten into the water yet.” He said factually.
You wiggled and kicked as you started to panic, not wanting to get into the cold water. “IZUKU PUT ME DOWN! RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”
He held your thighs tightly as he marched right over to the pool. “No can do, sweetheart.”
“BOYS! Help me!” You shouted. Hero ran over to you with laughs as he tried to pull you off of Izuku’s shoulder. “Attack your father!” Without hesitation, Izuku grabbed Hero by his boxers and flung him into the pool. Your face dropped in horror as your husband and your friends laughed as he got right into the pool. You squirmed as he moved you into his arms as you squealed and couldn’t help but laugh as he kept you in the cold water.
“No! Izuku no!” You laughed with shrieks as he kept large arms wrapped around you.
He laughed as he kept you there. “Uh uh! You’re gonna love this and I won’t let go of you till you do.” He chuckled.
You wiggled and squirmed in his grasp. You held onto him as tight as you could as he walked deeper into the water, deep enough that you couldn’t touch the floor of the large pool. You moved to wrap your legs around him as you clung to him. You couldn’t help but giggle but you glared at him.
Izuku gave you a smirk and a broad grin at having you in his arms, his hands holding onto you securely. “Well hello there.” He moved his eyebrows making you chuckle at how cringe he was, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it.
You let out a sigh as you didn’t think about it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you let him hold you in the water. You didn’t want to think, you didn’t want to remember. Right now you wanted to be as close to your husband as you have ever been in the past eight months. You closed your eyes at the warm feeling of his skin even in the cold water, just wanting to float there with him.
Izuku went stiff realising what you were doing. Although he did know you had a bit to drink but he wasn’t going to reject this. Lord knows he might never get this opportunity again, so he held you. He held you like he was going to lose you. Because he knew he already did once.
You adults laughed as you sat together outside on the balcony, away from the rooms. All the kids were in their rooms, hopefully asleep. You had all put your eldest in charge of watching them in exchange for giving them free time to do whatever they wanted tomorrow. You sat outside together around a large table as waiters brought drinks and snacks to you all.
“It’s been wonderful!” Eijiro’s new wife expressed as she leaned back, one of Eijiro’s large arms over her shoulders as they sat next to each other. She kept on hand resting on her pregnancy bump and the other held her cup of apple juice. “Reika was such an adjustment but her and Satomi are the best of friends despite the age gap.”
Eijiro hummed as he nodded his head. “We were worried about the big age gap thing but it seems like it was misplaced.” He chuckled.
You waved a hand down with a shrug sipping on what must have been your fifth alcoholic drink today, the effects already making your head hazy. Izuku hummed as he sat next to you, his arms wrapped around his chest as he sat with his own drink in front of him. “As long as you give the older one enough attention, they understand.”
“Coming from the Midoriyas, you know it’s real advice.” Denki stated motioning to the both of you making you all laugh. He had a gentle blush on his cheeks showing the effects of alcohol on him.  “Honestly, I was surprised that Koda was your last one. I was whole heartedly expecting at least two more boys.”
Izuku laughed and so did you. “No.” You shook your head. “Five boys-” You caught yourself there. You swallowed down harshly as your grip on your glass turned harsh. Izuku quickly caught on, putting a hand to your shoulder. You tried not to shrug it off but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel that you needed it. Mina put a hand to your thigh with an emphathetic look. You let out a soft chuckle. “Four… four boys is enough for us, right now.” You shrugged it off. “Besides I’m sure the labour nurses are tired of seeing my face anyways.” You made a gentle joke to ease the mood.
“They sure are tired of seeing mine.” Pony let out with a gentle frown and a slight glare to Sato who put his hands up in surrender.
Denki took a sip of his drink and turned to Katsuki. The other blond had been otherwise silent the entire time, which was surprising considering that it was highly unlike the blond to do so. Denki tilted his head and motioned over to Katsuki. “Hey Kacchan.” Crimson eyes moved over to Denki. “How life been? You’ve been really hush-hush lately.” He let out surprisingly observant for someone who was half drunk already.
Katsuki shrugged with a gentle smirk on his face. “Nothing big. Just expecting someone soon.” He stated as he glanced at his phone screen before looking back at Denki.
“Oh?” The other blond male let out with a knowing look.
Eijiro held his tongue as he leaned back. Shoto however raised an eyebrow. “You’re seeing someone, Bakugou?” He asked.
“And you invited them here?” Mina let out unimpressed as she looked him up and down. It was safe to say that despite Katsuki having cheated on you in the past, Mina seemed to take it more personally than you did.
Katsuki shrugged as he leaned back. “I thought it would make things… interesting.” He stated as his crimson eyes moved to Izuku. “Especially since she has such good history with some of the people here.”
Your eyes flicked to Izuku who seemed just as confused as everyone else. However, catching your eye was a woman you never wanted to see again, least not on your vacation. “No…” You let out lowly. You looked to Izuku and the man looked annoyed as he rolled his eyes and brought a hand to his forehead.
“Hey everyone!” Walking over to your table was Ochaco. She was dressed in a pretty black dress as she did so, but her eyes were on you with a smug expression. Katsuki stood up and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek before moving to allow her to sit next to him.
You turned to look at Izuku, too drunk to bother to hide your expression. “What is she doing here?” You asked.
“Why can’t I be here?” Ochaco asked as she shrugged looking over at you.
“I don’t know.” Izuku looked over at you with a deep sigh, furrowed eyebrows.
You looked at him with a disbelieving look. “Did you invite her here?”
“Y/N I haven’t spoken to her in over a month, I swear.” He defended himself, telling the hard honest truth but you struggled to believe him.  
“What’s the matter?” Mina asked with a hand to your side, wondering what on earth was going on and why you both seemed so tense to have Ochaco here.
Katsuki sat smugly across from you as he stared at you. Suddenly this entire holiday felt like one claustrophobic trap. This was all one elaborate scheme to have you cornered and look like a fool. “I have a question, Y/N?”
“I’m leaving.” You stated as you stood up from your seat. “I’m going to check up on the kids.”
“You can’t even answer one question?” Katsuki laughed as he looked up at you. “Like how you allow Deku, of all people, to cheat on you and you stayed with him but when I did it, you dumped me easier than you could breathe?”
“I beg your finest pardon?” Denki let out, sobering up quickly as all eyes went onto you and Izuku.
You stiffened at the question as you looked at Katsuki. He was doing this on purpose. He always did this on purpose. Getting you in an ugly position forcing you to side with him or entertain his position.
“Hold on!” Hanta let out, his eyes wide as he looked to Izuku. “You did what!?”
“Tell me, Y/N.”
Izuku stood up and pointed a finger at Katsuki with a warning glint in his eyes. “I’m warning you Kacchan, shut it! Y/N…” Izuku looked at you as he placed a hot hand to your shoulder. “Lets go. It’s late.”
“Don’t speak fo-”
“If you open your mouth again.” Izuku left open endedly with a flash of lightning in his eyes. “Yes, I cheated. Yes, I regret it more than I’ve regretted anything in my life. Yes, it was a mistake and yes Y/N knows about it. Yes, I stopped talking to Ochaco the moment Y/N and I talked about it and have no intention of continuing anything with her! So please!” He sighed as he clearly seemed like he was at his wits end. “Tonight can not get any worse!” Suddenly his phone rang making him groan as he pulled it out of his pocket. “WHAT!”
“Deku sir… Sorry to bother you on your holiday but there’s a Code S.”
Izuku moved a hand to the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to get a headache and as much as he wanted to put down the phone, he knew it was important. He had strictly told his sidekicks not to call him unless it was a Grade A or S level emergency. “Who is it?”
“It’s… It’s Jigsaw sir… He’s escaped out of tarturus.”
You immediately noticed the change in Izuku’s demeanour as he went pale. You could tell by how stiff he went and how his face fell. You felt uneasy as you looked at him with a questioning look.
Izuku swallowed down hard. “How long?”
“We aren’t sure sir. It could be hours since the security video was on repeat so we aren’t sure.”
Izuku let out a deep sigh as he furrowed his eyebrows, fear and anxiety bubbling in his chest as he realised just how bad this situation was. This was bad, very bad. Jigsaw could be anywhere and the last thing that you all needed this holiday. You watched as Izuku’s hold on his phone tightened as he scowled. “Ground every flight in this country, I don’t want him getting out. Send four jets here and get the bunker ready in my agency! I want every available unit scowering the country for him until he is found!”
“Yes, Deku sir.”
“Izuku.” You placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, pulling him out of his ProHero mode that had overcome him. Your eyebrows were furrowed in worry as you looked up at him, concern etched onto your face at the sound of his voice and the instructions he was giving to whoever he was on the phone with. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
Izuku hesitated to tell you but he knew it would be wiser to do so. He looked up at everyone before looking back down at you, putting down the call. “Jigsaw escaped.”
The glass you held in your hands shattered on the ground at the name you heard. Your entire body froze as pure fear rushed through your veins like cold water. Mina went pale at the news and Hanta looked visibly sick. Everyone immediately went on edge.
The name of the villain that had intentionally stalked you and your friends. The name of the villain that had hunted down your son’s preschool and killed two security guards and injured one teacher. The name of the villain that had slaughtered your son and Mina’s daughter.
“The boys…” You whispered, remembering that you weren’t currently with your sons. “Where are the children?” You asked loudly, remembering that you never agreed with Toshinori where on earth him and his friends would be watching over the other kids.
Izuku immediately saw the worry and felt it too. He turned to look at Katsuki with a serious look, both men putting aside their petty rivalry and issues for this situation. “Kacchan-”
“I’ll tell the hotel to evacuate.” He stated as he was already out of his seat and running towards the lobby.
Izuku glanced at his phone as a message hit his device. “Everyone grab the kids and head to the minibuses. Get to the airport as soon as possible.” He instructed.
Mei nodded. “I’ll go get them all lined up for us to leave.” She stated, but you were already kicking out of your space beside him and racing towards the elevators to head upstairs.
Suddenly you felt yourself lifted off your feet. You turned to see Izuku had you in his arms and with a flash of electricity around him, he was sprinting towards the staircase, knowing that that way would be faster than taking the elevator. Once on the floor that you kids were on, Tenya right on your tail, he put you down on the ground.
“TOSHINORI!” You shouted as you ran to your own family rooms. You took the keycard out of your back pocket and tapped it to allow access into the room. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you entered the room.
A few faces turned to look at you. You counted three of your boys, Satomi, her little sister, Hina and her younger brother. The girls seemed to be in charge of looking after the younger kids but you couldn’t see Kane or Toshinori.
“Satomi! Where is Toshi and Kane?” You asked her.
At the sound of panic in her voice she stood up with a worried look. “They went to go get drinks downstairs at the hotel café. Why?”
You felt worry fill you. You could hear your husband shouting somewhere in the background but beyond that you could barely hear anything over your beating heart. “Take everyone and get downstairs to the lobby! Your parents are waiting for you there and don’t stop for anything other than each other.”
She didn’t hesitate and nether did Hina as they both nodded and turned to grab the kids and heard them out. You ran out to the hallway, seeing Izuku flash back into the corridor with the other access keys from your friends. He looked up at you. “Where are the kids?”
“With Satomi and Hina but Toshinori and Kane aren’t there!” You told him as you ran towards the staircase. “I’m going to go get them! Meet me in the lobby!” You shouted, not waiting for a response as you raced down the staircase.
You felt like you couldn’t breathe, even as you forced your body that felt like it was totally detached from your head. This was your worst nightmare all over again. The fear of not knowing. You felt like you could barely think let alone move your body. You ran out to the lobby, heading down a corridor as suddenly the lights of the hotel flashed red, indicating an emergency.
It seems as though Katsuki did what he did best and managed to get the hotel in evacuation mode. You tried to remind yourself that there was a slim chance that Jigsaw was here. That you were probably all over reacting and there was no reason to fear.
Or that’s what you were telling yourself until you saw the café.
You stilled as you saw a dead body of the barrista slumped over the counter and other pools of blood around the place. Your breath got caught in your throat as you realised that this scene couldn’t have been caused naturally. You took a hesitant step, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of blond or green hair that you knew all too well. But then you noticed that another door leading down to the parking was open, blood on the handles showing that someone had gone that way.
You fumbled to grab your phone as you ran in that direction, heading to the staircase beyond the door. You entered the stairwell that was dark besides the flashing lights. You kept one hand on the railing as you ran down, being careful of blood on the floor. You texted to Izuku that you were heading down to the underground parking area.
You pushed open the final door heading there when you heard an explosion.
Kane threw an explosion at the large villains face but his hand got caught. His eyes went wide as he was thrown against a car, causing the car alarm to go off. You bit back a scream as you saw a flash of green as Toshinori held back the villain from getting closer to his best friend. He let out a grunt as he ducked and used a hard kick, in the same style as his dad, to the villains face causing the larger man to stumble, but a sneer went to his face as he grabbed your son and held him in a headlock.
“TOSHINORI!”
At the sound of your voice, Toshinori’s eyes looked up at you. His beautiful eyes were filled with fear as he looked at you. He let out a struggling voice as he gripped at the arm that held his neck trying to suffocate him. “Mom-” He coughed out.
“Well, well, well… Mrs Midoriya.” At the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard since the trial, you felt yourself still in terror. A deep laugh arose from the villains throat as he gave you a bloody smile. He looked at you amused as his eyes, black and red were locked onto you. He was still dressed in his inmate uniform of Tartarus supreme prison as he stood in front of you. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. And here I was thinking I’d have to drag this one’s body for you to see after I killed him.”
You shook your head as you took a step forward. “Please…” Your voice broke as you reached your hands out, terror filling your very being as he held your son. “Please don’t kill another one of my boys. Just let him go.”
“Oh but that wouldn’t be fun, now would it?” He let out with a tilt of his head as you saw him drop Toshinori on the ground.
You saw his big foot move to stand on top of your son’s head earning a shout from Toshinori. Your legs seemed to give out as you fell to your knees frozen in fear. Toshinori let out a cry in strangled fear and pain as he coughed out. “Mom! Mom! Get out of here!” He shouted as he tried to activate One for All to push the large villain off of him. “MOMMA!” He screamed to you.
A deep chuckle came from Jigsaw as he pressed down harder. “Now isn’t this familiar?” He let out as he thought back almost lamenting. “Your boys must really love you because his brother did the exact same thing before a crushed his skull in. Always screaming for their mother. You must be such a great one for them to do that.”
“Please.” You sobbed out. “Let him go! Let them live! HE’S MY BOY!”
Jigsaw nodded. “Your eldest, and your husband’s heir. Killing him would probably leave more of an impact than the little one did.” He stated with a nod. “That makes sense to me.”
You saw Toshinori was crying but he had a smile on his face, forcing himself to smile. You couldn’t let him kill another one of your boys. Another one of your little sprouts.
Toshinori… Your eldest. Your first. You could still remember the feeling of him pressed against your chest when you gave birth to him. You remembered his giggle and his laughter. You remembered him reaching out to you as he took his first steps. You remembered being his first words. You remembered him dancing with you at the Mother and Son’s dance. You remembered how much he cared for you and took so much of your worries and burden onto himself.
He was your boy.
He was your sweet little boy.
“PLEASE!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your eyes. “Kill me instead!” At the sound of your ultimatum, Toshinori’s face fell. “Take me!” You shouted as you put a hand to your chest. “I’m the one that gave Deku everything he has now! You want your revenge on my husband, take me instead! Please I’ll do anything! Just… just don’t kill my baby.” You let out with crippled sobs as you dropped your head in a bow, begging and pleading that that would appease him.
Jigsaw was silent, before lifting his foot off of Toshinori. “That sounds interesting.” He let out amusedly.
“NO!” Toshinori shrieked as he tried to scramble over to you. You lifted your head finally noticing he was free. “MOM! MO-” Suddenly Jigsaw grabbed Toshinori’s arm and twisted it funny, making you hear an audible snap as your son shouted in pure agony.
“TOSHINORI!” You burst forward.
Jigsaw kicked your son away, only hurting him so that he would be too blinded by the pain to come and help you. Suddenly you found your wrist being gripped as you were pulled up with a hand to your neck. You stilled realising that this was it. That you made your choice and you could only pray to God that this demon kept to his word.
Toshinori was laying near a knocked out Kane, who had blood dripping from the top of his head. Toshinori looked up in pain, tears in his eyes as he tried using his good arm to get up and get to you. “Mom…” He let out weakly.
You forced a wavering smile to your face. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.” You lied to him as you kept your eyes on him. “I love you. I love you so much! You’re such a good boy, always know that.” You told him with a nod of your head. Your hands were shaking as the reality of being at deaths door made your body grow cold.
Right as his grip on you turned tough.
“Let go of my wife.” The parking grew quiet as your eyes moved. You heard the voice of your husband but you couldn’t see him, but you could tell that Jigsaw had grown stiff.
“Well isn’t this cute.”
You were suddenly thrusted onto the ground, your hands barely catching you in time as you landed on the floor. You shakily lifted yourself up as you turned to see that Izuku had his hands on Jigsaw’s neck, a second away from snapping it. His hair was glowing white and his eyes buzzed with the power of One for All as he stood behind the villain, keeping him still.
Jigsaw chuckled. “Looks like you were fast enough to stop this one, huh, Deku?” Your husband didn’t comment as he stayed quiet. He glanced at you for less than a second, making sure you were okay before flicking his eyes back down to Jigsaw. His hands gripped the villain tighter. A laugh came out of the grade S villain. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said singsong. “I’ve rigged explosions to every one of these pillars underground. The moment I die, my quirk will go off and the entire building will come collapsing down ontop of you and your precious wife and son.”
Izuku knew he wasn’t bluffing. He had seen Jigsaw’s quirk work before and it was horrifying. Entire puzzle piece looking holes could be found wherever he left, whether in buildings or people. Izuku swallowed down hard but stayed where he was.
“Y/N, get Toshinori and Kane out of here. I’m going to buy you some time.”
You trusted your husband wholeheartedly, so you did what he said and you ran towards Toshinori and Kane. You quickly helped Toshinori to his feet, despite the pain he was in and you carefully got Kane’s dead weight on your back as you carried him whilst he was unconscious. You carefully ran towards the opening to the car ramp that led up towards the outside to the street. You ushered Toshinori forward, forcing him to go around the boom gate when you paused.
You realised that izuku wasn’t fighting Jigsaw. He was just standing there.
You turned to look at Izuku and that’s when you realised what he was going to do. Your eyes widened in horror as you were about to turn around and run to him.
“TOSHINORI GRAB YOUR MOTHER!” Immediately you felt blackwhip surround you, as Toshinori kept you in place, instinctively listening to his father’s instructions and not thinking first.
“IZUKU-”
“Y/N, take care of the boys for me!” He told you sincerely with a broken smile as he looked at you, tears in his green eyes but surety. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I don’t deserve you. You are an amazing wife and I don’t deserve you.”
“NO!” you shrieked.
“Toshinori get your mother out of here NOW!” Your husband shouted.
Toshinori was confused but he pulled you along anyways out of the parking area. You felt your eyes burn as you saw the last glimpses of Izuku. You saw a tear leave his eyes as he smiled. His hands moved and a scream left your throat as suddenly everything went white.
“IZUKU!”
-Glitch1d
425 notes · View notes
lovelybarnes · 1 year
Text
Flirting and Football- B. Barnes
Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically
The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.
She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 
You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.
She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.
“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”
You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.
“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.
“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”
You nod. “Wow.”
“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”
Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”
Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”
“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”
Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”
You shrug. “I had to do something.”
“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”
“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.
“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.
“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.
She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.
It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.
“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.
“What? What did I do?”
“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”
“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.
“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”
“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”
“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”
“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”
“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.
“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”
“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”
“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I am,” Bruce confirms.
“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.
“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”
You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”
“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.
“Hey Wanda, Piet.”
Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.
“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.
“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.
“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”
“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”
“We?” you echo.
“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.
“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.
Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”
You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”
“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.
You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”
“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.
You frown as the siblings grin.
“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.
Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”
“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.
“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”
You mutter incoherently.
“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.
-
“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.
Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.
You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.
The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.
Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”
You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”
“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”
There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”
You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”
You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”
“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”
You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.
“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”
“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”
“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”
His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 
You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”
Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.
Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”
You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.
He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”
“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.
“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.
“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”
“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.
“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”
Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”
-
The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.
Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.
The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.
You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.
Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.
“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.
You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.
“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”
“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”
Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”
Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.
“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.
He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.
“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.
“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”
“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”
You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”
Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.
You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.
“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’ variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”
Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.
“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.
“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”
Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”
Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”
“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”
Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”
“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”
Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”
You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”
“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.
“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.
You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”
“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.
“Based off of what?” You counter.
“Anything.”
“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”
Pietro clears his throat loudly.
“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”
“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”
You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”
“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.
You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”
“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.
“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”
“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”
“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”
A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.
-
Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.
You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.
Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.
“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.
“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.
“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”
“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”
You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”
There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”
Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”
“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”
You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”
“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”
You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.
“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”
There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”
“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.
“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.
You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.
“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.
“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”
Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.
“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”
You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.
“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.
“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.
“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.
“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.
“Not the same thing. Not even close.”
You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.
“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.
“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.
“We talk.” You shrug. 
“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”
“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”
“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.
“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.
“It will,” Bucky says.
For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.
He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.
You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.
Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”
“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.
-
The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.
He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.
The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.
You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.
Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.
“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.
“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.
“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”
“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”
Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”
“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”
“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”
You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”
“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.
You snort. “Yeah, sure.”
Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.
Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.
His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”
“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”
“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 
“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.
“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.
“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.
“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.
When he comes back, you’re gone.
The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.
-
You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.
You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.
“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”
“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.
“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.
“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.
“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”
“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.
“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.
“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”
“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”
You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”
“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”
“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”
“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”
“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”
“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
You laugh quietly. “Sure.”
“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”
You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”
“Sorry?”
“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”
“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.
“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.
Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”
Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”
“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”
You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
“And you’re ridiculous.”
“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.
You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”
“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”
“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.
“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”
You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”
“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.
“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”
“I will know all of that,” he pledges.
You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”
A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.
-
You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 
It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.
James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.
He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.
He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.
You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.
Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.
You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.
It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.
A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.
Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.
A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.
“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”
“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”
“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 
Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.
“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.
Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.
“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.
It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.
You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 
“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”
“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.
You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”
“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.
“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.
“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”
Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.
“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.
“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”
You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”
“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.
You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”
He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.
He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”
You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”
Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.
“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.
You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”
You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”
He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”
The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.
“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”
“You have to invite me in,” he explains.
“What, like a vampire?”
He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”
You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.
“It's cold out here,” he reminds.
“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.
His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.
“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.
He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”
-
It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.
You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.
His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.
It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.
“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”
His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”
You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.
“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”
You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.
“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 
You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 
Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”
It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”
“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”
Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to,” you begin.
“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”
You nod along. “Right.” 
He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.
You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.
“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.
“Yup. One more week, he says.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”
You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.
Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”
“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.
You nod. “Can we?”
“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.
“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”
“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.
Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.
“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.
“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 
You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”
A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”
“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”
“‘Thought it was weeks?”
“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.
He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”
He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.
Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.
“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.
“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.
You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.
You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.
-
Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.
No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.
He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.
You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.
He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.
He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.
He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.
You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.
Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.
“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.
He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 
“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.
“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.
“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”
“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.
“I can pay. It’s my food.”
“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”
You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”
Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”
You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.
Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.
Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.
“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.
You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.
“Yeah?”
Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.
“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”
You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.
“I have to go.”
“What? We just got here.”
“I have an appointment.”
“For what?”
“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.
“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”
You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.
Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.
“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”
“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”
“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.
Bruce stares at you.
You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”
“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”
Your shoulders drop.
“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.
“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.
Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”
“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”
“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”
His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.
“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”
“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.
You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 
-
For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.
The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.
Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.
You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.
You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.
Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.
The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.
Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”
“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”
Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.
“What? Why?”
Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”
“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 
You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.
“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”
“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.
You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”
Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”
Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”
“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.
You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.
He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”
As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.
He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.
You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.
You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.
-
You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.
The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 
Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.
It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.
Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.
You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.
Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.
Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.
Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.
“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 
“What? Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”
“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”
You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”
You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”
“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.
“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”
“B-both of us.”
“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”
There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”
You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.
There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.
You need to get home. You can’t move.
You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.
Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”
It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.
He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.
“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”
You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”
It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.
“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.
You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.
You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 
Bucky pulls you back in.
“Will you take me home?”
His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.
Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.
Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.
“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.
“Why?”
You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."
“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”
He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”
His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.
You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 
“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”
“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.
You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”
His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”
-
Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.
The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.
With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.
Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.
It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.
You’re not worried.
Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.
So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.
Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.
You’re not worried.
Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.
“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.
“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”
It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”
“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”
“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.
“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”
Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.
Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.
“I told you,” you tell her.
“He’s limping,” she points out.
“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.
He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.
You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.
It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.
Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.
“Hey, what’re you—”
Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.
“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.
You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.
“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.
“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”
“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”
“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.
He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”
“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”
His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”
You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”
“Not yet!” he proclaims.
You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.
“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.
-
You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.
He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.
He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.
If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.
He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”
You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”
“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”
Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”
“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.
“No.”
“Not even guys you like?”
“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”
“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”
You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?
I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”
Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”
“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”
Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”
“You don’t think I should?”
“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”
Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”
“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”
You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.
Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.
“Why do you care so much?” you ask.
He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”
You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”
“I try.”
You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”
Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”
You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”
“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”
The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.
You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.
“Will you?”
It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”
“Give it a chance.”
You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.
You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.
“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.
Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.
-
You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.
There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.
It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.
It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.
You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.
You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.
You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.
He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 
Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.
“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.
When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.
“Yeah?” he responds finally.
“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.
“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”
You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.
“See?” You say accusatorily. 
Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”
That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 
“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”
“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”
“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”
She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”
“You talk about me to your friends?”
You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”
“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”
You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”
“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”
You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.
“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”
You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.
“Thank you.”
You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.
You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.
“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”
“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.
You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 
You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.
Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.
“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”
He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.
Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.
Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.
“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”
“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”
“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.
You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.
He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”
He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.
“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”
“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.
Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 
“You okay?” he asks.
“Uh huh.”
He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”
“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”
Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.
“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”
“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.
“Yes. It was a good day today.” 
You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.
You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.
Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”
Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”
“I just thought you’d be different.”
“How?” His brows are furrowed.
You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”
“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.
“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”
The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.
His skin flips green.
You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.
It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.
He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.
You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”
He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.
“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”
He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.
You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.
“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”
And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.
He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.
He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”
You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.
“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”
“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.
“I'll go out with you.”
His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”
You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey
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ravenromanova · 2 months
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Secret Santa
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Pairings: Wandanat x Female reader
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT. Daddy kink, Mommy kink, Strap in, Blindfold, Handcuffs, Vibrator. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE
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~ ”Alright kiddies gather up “ Tony yelled out to everyone as he entered the living room with a santa hat in his hand. “It’s secret santa time!!!” He said happily taking his spot next to Pepper on the couch.
A few seconds later everyone gathered in the living room all sitting in various places. You sat between Wanda and Natasha on the loveseat with a smile on your face. Once everyone was sat and comfy Tony got up to begin his yearly speech.
“As you all know we do secret santa every year to show one another just how much we care about them. And this year is extra special since this is our first year with y/n” He started and then pointed to you with a smile. You smiled in response to the words and both Wanda and Natasha nudged you with their elbows and smiled. God they were perfect.
“So first off whoever gets her better bring it and second as per tradition i’ll pass the hat around, everyone will pick a name and then get however many gifts for the person they got, and then on christmas we will exchange gifts” After he finished he sat down and picked a name before passing it to Pepper.
The hat was passed down for a few minutes before it got passed to Natasha who happily picked a name. When she looked at the name she smiled brightly which made you wonder who she got, but you wouldn’t ask because it would ruin the whole thing. After she picked she handed you the hat with a wink which made your heart beat faster and a blush cross your cheeks. You grabbed the hat with a smile and shuffled it around to mix the names again and then picked. Wanda the paper read and you smiled.
Honestly you were hoping to get either get her or Natasha since you knew then the best. Ever since you joined the team six months ago you had naturally gravitated to the two redheads. The three of you did practically everything together and more often than not the team would joke about you being there third. And honestly…. you didn’t hate the jokes.
Wanda brought you out of your thoughts by nudging you again. You quickly nodded your head and handed her the hat. She took the hat with a smile on her face and picked a name. When she read the paper she got all giddy and smiled just as bright as her girlfriend did. Both of their reactions really made to wonder who they got.
But what you didn’t know is they both got you as their secret santa. Tony obviously didn’t realize that he put your name twice but that will turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to you. Because once Wanda picked your name she telepathically told Natasha who said she got you as well. So they immediately started planning on what to get you… little did you know you’d be getting them.
Once everyone picked they all smiled and went off to start planning their gifts since christmas was a week away at this point. You, Wanda and Nat sat on the couch for a while after everyone left just talking and laughing like normal. But soon it started to get and you started to get tired.
“I’m gonna head to bed loves” You said with a yawn as you stretched off the couch. Both women kinda frowned but eventually nodded their heads.
“Sweet dreams detka” Natasha cooed giving you a kiss on your head that made you blush.
“We’ll see you in the morning maylshka” Wanda added and also gave you a kiss on the head.
You smiled and waved goodnight before you headed off to your room for the night. Once you got to your room you immediately started shopping for Wanda’s gift. And after hours of searching online for a gift you finally found the perfect one along with others.
Wanda had always talked about how cherry blossom trees were beautiful and that she loved them. So when you found a lego cherry blossom tree you squealed with excitement and bought it. You also got her a bouquet of lego flowers (Wanda has a thing for legos) as well as some new art supplies since she’s an amazing artist, you also got her a bunch of candles from bath and body works, bath bombs, epsom salts, a new red fleece blanket and a new pair of slippers.
After you finished shopping you shut your computer with a smile and finally decided to get some sleep. But what you didn’t know was that Natasha and Wanda were still up in the living room planning on what to get you.
“What if that scares her away?” Wanda asked with a pout as Natasha spit out an idea. The two had been at it for hours and still haven’t decided.
“Have you seen the way she gets all flustered around us? Trust me my love it won’t” Natasha soothe her girlfriend’s fears with a small kiss. The witch smiled and nodded her head. The both of them settled on giving you themselves as your main gift but they still had to get you something that you could open in front if the team.
So they picked out a few dark romance novels youve talked about, a new reading chair to go in you room, a comfy oversized hoodie, they also bought your cat a new cat tree. along with a new set of knives since they knew that was your go to weapon. Both women smiled as they order your stuff and then went to bed giddy.
*A week later on christmas*
You were so nervous as you walked into the living room with all the gifts you got for Wanda. You knew she would like them but your hands still shook in fear waiting for everyone else to join in the living room. And luckily for you it didn’t take long for everyone else to settle amongst the couches.
Once everyone was sat down and cozy Tony started placing everyone’s gifts in front of them. Your heart starting beating faster when you saw the pile in front of Wanda. Granted she has a smile on her face but you were still nervous as all hell. And when Tony set your pile in front of you the nerves started to calm down a little and they were replaced with excitement.
“Okay we are going to do this from oldest to youngest so Thor and then Loki, Bucky then Steve and so on and so forth” Tony announced sitting back down next to Pepper.
Since Thor was first and you were going last that gave you plenty of time to calm your nerves that were starting to rise again. You couldn’t help but keep looking over at the witch and praying to every god that she would like it all. Granted she would be happy with a cupcake but you really wanted her to know how much you cherished her.
The time went on and slowly it got to Wandas turn and your heart was beating out of your chest. She slowly started to open the gifts and she let out a squeal of excitement when she opened the two boxes of legos.
“Ive been wanting these forever!” Wanda beamed brightly showing everyone the legos to which they all laughed. As she went on to open the gifts she became a bundle of excitement and joy which made you happy. She wrapped her new blanket around her and got comfy in it after she finished opening it.
“Okay so who had Wanda?” Tony asked smiling at the younger redhead’s expression on her face. She looked like a kid in a candy store.
“I-I did” You said raising your hand and Wanda snapped her head to you.
Before you could even process anything she jumped in your arms and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you malysh” She beamed. “I love it all” She added then kissed your cheek again before taking her place next to Natasha again.
It was your turn next and your body shook with excitement. And as you started opening the gifts both women clutched each other hands in nervousness. Your nimble fingers started to open the gifts and the first one brought tears to your eyes. Granted they were knives but for some reason these ones felt extra special, they were engraved with your initials and had hand painted designs and you loved them. You also let out a squeal of excitement when you opened the novels you’ve been thinking about buying for weeks. As you opened up the rest of the gifts your heart clenched and you almost cried with how much you loved everything.
“Okay so who had our resident sunshine?” Tony chided and ruffled your hair before giving you a quick kiss on the head. He sat back down and you anxiously waited to find out who got you.
Both Wanda and Natasha looked at each other and raising their hands. “We did” Natasha said nervously as she looked at you. “Y/n’s name was in there twice and we both ended up getting her” Wanda added.
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest when they spoke. So without thinking you jumped into both their arms and started kissing their faces just like Wanda did with you. “Thank you thank you thank you” You mumbled hugging the both of them.
“You’re welcome detka” Natasha cooed in your ear. “But we have another gift for you to open once everyone goes to bed” Her words sent a shiver down your spine and you nodded in response. “Meet us in our room later” And with that you gulped and sat back down in your spot.
You patiently waited for everyone to open their gifts trying to get the impure thoughts out of your mind. Did you have any idea what both redheads had in mind? No but that didn’t stop your brain from going to the nastiest thoughts possible.
So inevitably when everyone was done you were practically vibrating with excitement and nerves. Eventually everyone said their goodnights and headed to their rooms leaving you alone with the two women.
As you sat there playing with your fingers anxious about what’s to come you suddenly feel a presence on either side of you. “Hi sweet girl” Wanda cooed in your ear bringing you out of your thoughts.
“H-Hi” You whispered nervously as you looked in between both the Wanda and Natasha. Each of them placed a hand on your thigh and gave you a devilish smile.
“You ready to see your other presents?” Natasha husked in your ear and you just nodded your head. Both of them stood up and took each of your hands in theirs and led you two their room. The whole way to their room you could’ve sworn that your heart was gonna fall out of your ass.
When they opened their door and led you inside your breath hitched at the sight of their bed. The bed had a blindfold, a strap on, a vibrator, handcuffs and a whip. Your eyes widened as you looked at them and they just pushed you onto the bed.
“W-What is going on?” You asked swallowing the nerves that were creeping up again. Natasha walked up to you and gently took your chin in between her thumb and pointer finger.
“We are your other presents detka” She said with a smile and she brought you in for a soft kiss. You instinctively cupped her cheeks and kissed her back. The kiss was everything you’ve ever wanted with her. It was soft and sweet but she still showed her dominance by gripping the back of your neck to hold you still.
Wanda cleared her throat causing the both of you to turn your heads towards her. “Stop hogging her Natalia” She scolded the spy and pushed her out of the way. Wanda was quick to grip your cheeks and bring you in for a kiss and this time your hands fell to her hips. She pushed you back onto the bed and straddled your waist.
“Oh we’re gonna ruin you malysh” She whispered in your ear causing you to moan lowly.
“Please” You beg feeling the bed dip to your left. When you looked up your eyes met Natashas and you saw that she was holding the blindfold in her hands.
“I’m going to put this on you and you will let me and Mommy do whatever we want okay? And youre gonna sit there like the good girl i know you are and take the presents we give you” Natasha said and her voiced laced with domination and eagerness. You nodded your head in response and she smacked your cheek. “Words detka” She commanded.
“Y-Yes daddy” You nodded and she smiled in approval. Not even a second later you saw the black satin come down on your eyes and you lifted your head a little so she could tie it securely around you.
Wanda then flicked her wrist and left you bare under her. “So pretty” She praised kissing down your body. “Do you know the traffic light system?” She asked before she went any further.
“Green for good. Yellow for slow down and red for stop” You said making both women smile.
“Good girl” Natasha praised and Wanda took one of your nipples in her mouth. You moaned at the contact of her warm mouth on your sensitive peak. Wanda moaned as she sucked marks all over your chest and switched between your nipples.
“Daddy is gonna take these handcuffs and cuff you to the headboard okay?” Natasha asked rubbing her fingers up and down your bare stomach.
“Yes daddy” Natasha loved how easily you gave up control to her and the witch. They’d been thinking about this for so long and now that is happening neither could contain their excitement.
She then took both your hands and and cuffed you to the bed with a smile you couldn’t see. Wanda then traveled down your body and littered you with kisses and marks in her trail.
Your heart was beating with excitement feeling Wanda move to where you needed her the most. All the months you’ve spent fantasizing about the women is finally coming true and you couldn’t be happier.
“Such a pretty pussy” Wanda praised spreading your lips and smiling at how wet you are for them. She sucked in a breath before she stuck out her tongue and licked a strip from your aching hole to your clit. You gasped at the feeling pulling at the restraints at the overwhelming feeling.
Natasha put the strap on around her hips as Wanda ate you out like a woman starved. Wanda sucked your clit into her mouth and stuck two fingers in you to prep you for Natasha. She pumped her nimble digits in and out of you curling them every time she went in.
“Oh mommy” You mewled bucking your hips against her tongue and hand. Natasha held your hips down firmly stoping you from squirming as Wanda ate you. Wanda moaned at the taste of you on her tongue.
“You taste so fucking sweet” She praised feeling your walls clench around her fingers. “You gonna cum baby?” She asked as if she was taunting you.
“Oh god yes!” You moaned feeling the band in your stomach about to snap. Wanda took that as her cue to pick up her pace and suck and finger you harder. “OH FUCK MOMMY YES!” You screamed pulling on the handcuffs as your orgasm comes ripping through you.
“Such a good girl” Natasha praised watching how you came undone all over her girlfriend’s face. And Wanda was more than happy to clean up the slight mess you made with her tongue.
“You have to taste her Natty” Wanda said wiping her face and moving away so Natasha had room to fuck you. She came back up to your face and brought you in for a bruising kiss and straddled your stomach again.
“Taste how sweet you are malysh” She whispered shoving her tongue in your mouth and you sucked on it in response. You moaned into her mouth at the taste of yourself and at Wanda grinding herself in your stomach.
“You ready for daddy to fuck you baby?” Natasha asked rubbing her hands up and down your plush thighs.
“Yes daddy” You responded eagerly shaking your head. She gripped your thighs and line her faux cock against your entrance and slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck” You moaned thrashing against the handcuffs. “P-Please uncuff me mommy. N-Need to touch you” You begged Wanda with a slight pout.
“What do you think Natty? should i?” She asked looking over her shoulder at Natasha who nodded to enthralled with watching your pussy devour her cock.
Wanda flicked her wrist again and uncuffed you as well as took the blindfold off. Your hands instantly went to her hips to help her grind against you while also grounding yourself.
“Y-You feel so good against me mommy” You moaned loudly as the feel of her and the feel of Natasha slamming her cock into you.
“Mm thank you baby” Wanda smiled as she leaned down to kiss you again. Your hand came in between your bodies and you started rubbing her clit. She threw her head back and started grinding against your hand.
Natasha took your momentarily lack of focus on her and started thrusting into you harder than before. “Fuck baby your swallowing me” She grunted picking up her pace. The strap hit your g-spot repeatedly making your grip on Wanda’s hips stronger.
“Oh god daddy” You moaned as you started bucking your hips to meet her thrusts. “Y-You feel so good” Your hands wrapped around Wanda’s back and you clawed down her. The feeling was so intense and it only got better when Wanda placed the vibrator on your clit. You were too caught up in the feeling of Natasha you didn’t even realize Wanda wiggled from your grip and grabbed the wand.
“Take it baby” She commanded watching how your pussy pulsed around Natasha and the vibrator around your clit.
“Oh my fucking god!” You screamed as you came for the second time. But Natasha wasn’t done with you she kept thrusting into you harder making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Fuck baby. If i could fucking breed you i would” Natasha grunted out between your tightened jaw. Every time she thrusted in you the strap would hit her clit bringing her closer to her release each time.
Wanda was feeling a little left out so she positioned herself above your lips and slowly brought her pussy down. You welcomed her and started eating her out right away. She moaned and gripped the vibrator harder as she held it against you. Her knuckles were turning white at how hard she was holding it.
“Oh fuck malysh” Wanda moaned feeling you suck on her clit with force. Natasha always knew how to make her feel good but something about the way your tongue felt was driving her insane.
With the feeling of Wanda grinding on your face, the vibrator and Natasha fucking into like she was on a mission was leaving you breathless.
“I’m gonna cum again!” You screamed as you parted from Wanda’s dripping hole for a second. Natasha thrusted harder chasing her orgasm while she brought you to yours again.
You ended up squirting all over her lower stomach as you came with a scream. But you kept fucking Wanda as you rode out your orgasm. Natasha gave you a few seconds before she pulled out of you slowly and flopped next to you. Her hands ran up and down Wanda’s spine trying to coerce the witch into letting go all over your face.
“Fuck malysh i’m gonna cum” She mewled grinding her hips with ferocity against your lips and tongue. A few more strokes of your tongue had her cumming on your tongue and her hips stilling. “Oh fuck” She muttered flopping on the other side of you. “That was fucking amazing”
“Agreed” Natasha said with a nod wrapping her arm around your stomach. The witch followed suit and wrapped not only her arm but her legs around you as well.
“That was the best present i’ve ever gotten” You admitted with a laugh. The both of them turned to face you and smiles adorned both their faces.
“We’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time” Wanda admitted drawing circles on your stomach with her fingers.
“Why didn’t you make a move sooner?”The question came out more insecure than you intended.
“We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and or get rejected” Wanda responded for the spy. You looked at both of them and smiled softly.
“I could never reject the two of you” You admitted softly giving them each a soft kiss. “I’ve wanted this too” Your confession made the two of their hearts beat faster.
“W-Will you be ours?” Natasha asked insecurity and nervousness laced in her voice.
You sat up on your elbows and looked at the both of them in bewilderment. “W-What?”
“Be ours” Wanda said with a pleading look in her eyes.
It took you a moment to speak because you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. “Y-Yes” You finally said after a beat and both woman gave you a passionate kiss.
You couldn’t believe you were finally theirs. The night was filled with soft touches and plenty of kisses until the three of you ended up falling asleep together. This was the best christmas ever and nothing would ever come close to this again.
You fell asleep with a smile on your face sandwiched in between your favorite witch and spy happier than you’d ever been.
~The end~
A/N: I-Uh this one got away from me a little bit. But i’m not sorry about how long it is :)
Also imma dedicate this to @hungry2bhelpful bc i’m in love with her so here ya go baby 💋🥰
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 5 months
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the lakes - m. murdock
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a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."
“Are you deaf?”
“What?”
You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.
You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.
“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”
You feel your face flush.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”
Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.
“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”
You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.
Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.
She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.
At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.
At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.
Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.
You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.
You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.
You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.
You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.
With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.
And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.
...
If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.
You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.
You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.
You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.
Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.
You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.
You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.
But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.
He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.
He takes off his helmet.
“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.
He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.
“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.
You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.
When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.
He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.
“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”
“You’re deaf.”
“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”
“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”
“I was scared too..”
“When did you start losing your hearing?”
“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.
“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.
“No problem.”
“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”
“You can hear my hearing aids?”
“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”
Your face flushes.
“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”
“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.
“I just don’t want them to bother you.”
“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”
You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.
You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.
• • •
A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.
But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.
Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.
Except for this one day.
You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.
You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.
When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.
“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.
You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.
‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’
‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”
“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”
“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”
“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”
You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.
So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.
You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.
You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.
You must not have them in.
So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.
Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.
After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.
“Forgot your hearing aids?”
“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”
“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”
“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”
He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.
The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.
“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.
You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.
“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.
That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.
God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.
“Okay…”
You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.
“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.
You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.
“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.
“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.
You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.
His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.
“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.
L-O-V-E.
S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T
He traces your name, his, and your last names.
You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.
You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.
You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.
Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.
You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.
For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.
For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.
For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.
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sc0tters · 6 months
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His Home | Adam Fantilli
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summary: it’s Adam’s birthday and his debut in the NHL, little does he know you’re there watching
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.
word count: 3.07k
authors note: welcome back to what I like to call, kei told me not to behave (soft edition?). I’m kidding (sorta) this is a really different to what I usually write because it had a bit of angst in it? The first bit of regular italics are from the Adam birthday video that the bluejackets did and the second is a regular flashback!
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It was the clip Adam loved rewatching the most.
You were sat in your dorm in his hoodie and his hat (a detail that only he would pick up on) as you smiled “hey baby!” You smiled as you looked at your phone “now I’ve tried redoing this like eight times now.” You confessed letting out a little laugh.
The picture of Adam on draft night that you had taken after you two snuck out to Dairy Queen stared back at you “I keep on crying and you really don’t need to see me get all snotty again.” You shook your head as the pile of tissues on your bed was beginning to build.
Adam couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as you nervously thought about what it was that you wanted to say “point is I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” You two started dating in October of freshman year and you swore you’d kill him before he broke up with you with before trying long distance “I miss you and I love you.” You confessed wiping your cheek as another tear fell.
As you sucked at your cheek smiling unaware that Adam was doing the same thing “you’re gonna smash it tonight, so happy birthday and play your little heart out there.”
You brought your fingers up to your lips “I’m so proud of you my star.” The video ended as your kissed fingers pressed against the camera ending the video like you did all of your FaceTime calls that you had with him.
Honestly Adam was surprised that he wasn’t sick of that video anymore with the amount of times that he had replayed it “sorry she can’t be here tonight.” Kent knew how upset Adam was that you were unable to make it to his first game.
What was the actual twist of the knife was that you hadn’t responded to anything on all platforms and went as far as to turn your locations off on everything “I just don’t remember making her mad.” Adam sighed as he frowned looking at his lock screen that was a picture of you two in front of the yost one evening.
You were in your Fantilli jersey and he had his arms wrapped around you as he kissed your head “she’s probably just stressed with that class you said she was taking.” Kent shrugged trying to keep a straight face.
The whole team had come together to plan this. The only thing that could possibly be making you stressed right now was the fact that you were trying to not get caught in Columbus.
Yes, the boys convinced you to change around some things as they felt like you being there was the birthday and debut gift that money truly couldn’t buy “I guess you’re right.”
Thankfully for you, Adam never noticed that you were there as you sat far away from his parents and family.
The game ended in a win and Adam was even able to get some points on the board so it was safe to say that you were all excited about more than just the win.
Wanting to give him some time with his family you stayed hidden for a bit mainly getting to know more of his teammates “you know he’s clueless about this right?” Kent smiled as he saw the excited look on your face.
Adam knew it probably sounded terrible but as he listened to his dad’s opinions about the game he couldn’t help it as his eyes wondered off to find you.
His brain hoped that by some divine act you were actually there.
And that was when he saw you.
Well not you, actually the top of your head “shut up!” Adam let out a gasp causing you to turn around in his direction.
Both of you had grins on your faces and tears forming in your eyes “w-what are you doing here?” He asked quickly pushing past people to making sure that he wasn’t dreaming.
As your flowery perfume pushed into his nostrils he knew that you were really there “couldn’t not be here tonight.” You mumbled holding your arms out as he pulled you into a hug.
Usually you would have groaned at how sweaty he was but today you just loved feeling him against you “happy birthday my love.” You smiled looking up at him before you placed a kiss on the hockey players lips “how long are you here for?” The hockey player wanted you there for as long as possible “fly out on Sunday my love.” So that basically meant that you had three whole days with him as well as another game to watch.
At this point the cameras had turned away wanting to give you and Adam the moment in private or at least as private as it could be for being stood out in the open “go get showered and then we can all catch up.” Julia proposed looking at her son as she wrapped her arm around you.
You had gotten to know his parents over the summer and nothing made them happier than seeing the smile on their sons face whenever he looked at you.
So you knew that you were going to sound bad when you thought about this because as fun as it was getting to catch up with Adam’s family and watch him smile as he interacted with his parents.
What you truly wanted was to be with him on the couch talking like you used to.
The Michigan air was cold around Ann Arbor but that wasn’t something you and Adam were complaining about.
No instead you two were comfortably on the couch in your dorm as your roommate was in a class “what are you thinking about?” Adam smiled as he realised that you were staring at him.
His thumb massaged your hip as his baggy basketball shorts left the area of your skin exposed “I’m gonna miss these moments with you.” You confessed as you two loved being on top of each other on the tiny two seater couch.
Before a frown could form on your lips as the thought of the draft came along Adam brought his face closer to yours “the draft is a long way away baby.” The hockey player cooed “so for now let’s enjoy this.” He added pressing his lips against yours.
So as the Uber let you two out at the door of Adam’s apartment building you couldn’t help but smile as you grew excited “are you guys sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?” Adam looked at his family members in the car as he wrapped his hand around you “you two should go have fun.” Julia clearly didn’t mean it in the way that flashed through your mind but it still made you smile as you send her a nod.
You two watched the car drive off before you turned to make your way into the building “can’t believe that you’re truly here.” Adam mumbled pressing a kiss onto your head as he took in the familiar scent of your shampoo.
His hand slid lower now resting on your ass that he gave a squeeze “Adam!”
You squealed jumping as you walked into the elevator.
That resulted in a laugh from the boy who quickly joined you before the doors shut “you can’t blame me for missing you.” His words were true as he locked his hands on either side of you “thought about you all day.” Adam confessed hovering his lips over yours.
A smile formed on your face “I did too,” as you leaned up to kiss him the doors opened causing an awkward meeting for you two with an elderly couple “I’m gonna need to you walk in front of me.” The hockey player‘s whisper sent shivers down your spine as you looked down to see that he was hard.
Trying to keep the giggle from leaving your lips you nodded adjusting yourself so that you could walk in front of Adam who now had one hand on your waist and the other carrying your bag “have a good night.” You sent the couple a smile as the boy forced you out of there as quickly as he could.
You looked to Adam with a teasing look on your face “you got a little problem?” You joked seeing that nobody was in the hallway.
Adam scoffed as he shook his head “not only is this your fault but it also isn’t little.” The boy corrected you as he stopped in front of his door “let me get your keys.” You smirked dropping your hand into his pocket.
If he could tell what you were trying to do then Adam was being a good sport for putting up with it “those aren’t my keys.” He warned as you palmed his dick between the fabric of his pocket and his boxers “I know.” You pressed a kiss against his ear before you pulled his keys out quickly unlocking the door to his apartment.
There was a spilt second before Adam practically pushed you both into the apartment “someone’s needy.” You teased watching as he dropped your bag pressing the door shut with his hand before he made a beeline for you “I know.” Adam repeated your words as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
Giving you a small moment to bring your hands to his neck before he kissed you. You two finally had that moment you had longed for where he could kiss you properly.
His tongue fought with yours as there was no longer the need to behave as someone was watching “fuck,” you moaned feeling his hands cup your ass “jump baby.” Adam didn’t need to tell you for a second time as your legs locked around his waist.
The walk to his room was short, not that either of you truly would have cared because you two were just enjoying the feeling of each others lips “god I’ve missed this.” The hockey player cooed dropping your body onto his bed.
You smiled up at him as he joined you on his bed still wanting to soak in the taste of your lips.
Sure it was etched into his brain but that didn’t mean that Adam wasn’t feeling this sense of being high each time he got to feel your lips against his skin “Adam,” you whined as his hands ran over your waist.
His smile was clear as he pecked your lips one final time “I wanna taste you baby.” Adam shook his head as your hand brushed over his cock.
You tried to protest “it’s your birthday,” you pointed out as you simply wanted to make him feel good “and all I want to do is taste that pretty cunt of yours.” Adam shot back as he shifted down his bed.
Adam hooked his fingers in the waist band of your pants “you look so fucking good today.” The hockey player gushed as he was met with the sight of your lace panties “you knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn’t you?” The Canadian smirked as he let your panties slide down your legs.
Your head bobbed as you nodded “please A,” you pleaded grabbing at his sheets as Adams breath fanned your cunt.
To say that you were soaked was an understatement as even in his dimly lit room Adam could still see the way that your pussy glistened “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.” The hockey players voice was shaky before his tongue ran up your slit settling on your clit.
It was like he was starving at the way he locked his hands around your thighs “shit Adam!” You cried bringing your hand down to his hair gripping onto his locks.
His eyes caught yours as you drove your hips into his face desperate to get off in that very moment.
His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub as he brought his fingers to your soaked cunt “god I’ve missed this,” the vibrations of his laugh sent shivers up your spine as your body shook.
Sure phone sex was a thing but this was a whole new level.
After weeks of not being able to get off through phone sex as your fingers and the sound of Adam’s voice could only do so much.
You were now getting exactly what you wanted “I’m gonna come,” you groaned scrunching your face as your body shook.
Adam nodded as you clenched around his fingers “let go baby.” He smiled lapping up your release as he was reminded how much he missed this.
But just like usual Adam didn’t slow down his movements as you rode his face through your orgasm “n-no A,” you shook your head trying to bring your body up and off of the bed.
His smirk was clear as he continued sucking you clit “baby,” you whined literally pulling his head up as you kissed his lips.
Tasting your release on his tongue made you squirm “you taste so sweet.” Adam groaned as your cunt rubbed against his clothed dick “baby I’m gonna come and I gotta do it in you.” He grunted as you nodded.
It took him seconds to undo his pants as you pulled his jersey over your head leaving you in your bra “god you’re gorgeous.” The hockey player smiled as he grabbed the condom from his wallet.
After you two were caught up after a big game with no condom Adam now had one that lived in his wallet for whenever you two would need it.
Before Adam could rip the wrapper open you had your hands capturing it so that you could wrap it around his cock “don’t tease me baby.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand to your head as you kitten licked the tip of his cock.
His precum oozed out of his swollen tip as you looked up at him with a smile “giving you everything you want tonight.” You mumbled pushing the condom over his cock as you kissed his lips swallowing his moan in the process.
Slowly Adam’s knees sink into the mattress as he comes down to your level “I just want you tonight.” His confession made your heart burst with love and pride “you have me Adam.” You nodded watching as he pressed his hands against your shoulders softly pushing you against the mattress.
Adam let his lips start at yours showing you an immense amount of love before he moved them to your cheek then to your jaw.
His journey slowly continued to your neck “A-Adam!” Your voice shook as your eyes screwed shut.
It made him smile as he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts “I want to take my time with you.” The hockey player cooed rubbing his fingers in your hips as he kissed your stomach “Adam please.” The desperation in your voice made him smile as he stopped.
The boy moved up to the point where his head stood just above yours “I love you baby.” Adam mumbled pressing his forehead against yours as his free hand drove his cock over your clit before he let it slide into your cunt.
You both gasped as the familiar feeling came over you both “this cunt feels like it did just back then.” Adam let out a grunt as you nodded “please move.” You begged making him smile.
He listened to you beginning to slowly bring his hips away from you before he brought them back to yours “you feel so good.” The Canadian cooed as you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was on instinct.
Like usual he was always so vocal “don’t stop,” you pleaded leaning forward to kiss his lips.
Adam almost collapsed at your neediness “god you’re out of this world.” Your cunt clenched around his cock at those words.
The moment was soft, it seemed that you two weren’t interested in having hot and steamy sex tonight. Not when you had missed the simple sheer contact that you two were having now “so full.” You blurted out as you swore that his cock had grown as it hit parts of you had it had never seen.
The hockey player didn’t think that he was going to last long as you continued to drive your hips against his “I love you.” You cried as his hand found its way between your bodies landing on your clit “this cunt was made for me.” Adam groaned as you nodded “all for you.” You agreed as you kissed him.
It was needy as Adam’s thrusts grew staggered at the way you clenched around his cock “I’m not gonna last,” Adam confessed as he shook his head “me neither,” you cried as the pressure on your clit increased.
It made your eyes shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap “love those noises.” The hockey player felt his head drop against your shoulder.
The sound of your whimpers hit the walls making Adam sure that he was going to get an awkward knock on the door tomorrow from his neighbour “right there oh-” your voice broke as pleasure pulsed through your body.
It made you shake against him as your hands locked in his hair “so so good,” you groaned gasping for air as white specks painted the backs of your eye lids.
Adam’s orgasm came right after yours making you both sweat as you came down from your highs “you okay?” The hockey player asked as his hands brushed your hair out of your face.”
You nodded with a smile “yep.” You watched him throw the condom away in the trash can next to his bed before you made grabby hands wanting him to come back to you “I want a cuddle.” Your confession made him laugh.
Of course Adam listened as he held his hands out to you “happy birthday baby.” You mumbled as you lay your head against his chest.
The boy smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair “thanks for making my birthday one to remember.” He cooed enjoying how this felt.
With you in his arms he knew that one thing was sure.
Home for Adam wasn’t a tangible place, it wasn’t a rink or his childhood home.
His home was right here, you were his home.
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letoasai · 1 year
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dp x dc
I’m usually more of a lurker in this fandom, you know? But this happened and it just needed to be written down. If someone wants to take the idea or continue it, go for it! Prompt - Consort
~~~ ~~~
Danny is told that while he is officially the Ghost King, there are a few last minute things to check off the list to keep the Observants from being able to mess with Danny's business. Clockwork even subtly confirms that this is something Danny should consider carefully. Being able to keep them in check is important.
 While not keen on a to-do list, Danny sighs and trusts that Clockwork is ultimately giving him less work.
He spends a few years doing odds and ends. Whatever task Clockwork mentions and it honestly suits Danny fine. It’s giving him time to grow into his position. It’s going well, that is until he learns that in his last task he has to consummate his newly acquired position in a very traditional way. With someone else...
That's bad enough, but it's thrown out to him that he must do this with one of his own kind. It's never been an issue before since The Ghost King is usually... a ghost and can pick whoever they want in the Zone.
Danny however is a halfa and because he's only one of three halfa's he's forced to pick between Vlad and Dani. A fruit loop and his clone/sister. The first is horrifying on many levels and the second is just plain unappealing. It's not happening, nope. 
It's practically a miracle that before Danny can completely fall into panic, Clockwork mentions the existence of a forth halfa. 
It doesn't matter who they are, it HAS to be better then his current options. That's how Danny ends up in Gotham.
~
"I can't believe you went without us." Sam complained. "We could have gone with you. What if you need help?" 
"I don't think Gotham is ready for ghost powers, Sam." Tucker commented. "Any trouble he runs into won't know what hit them." 
"Could you both stop wishing trouble on me?" Danny asked, he should have known he'd get ganged up on when he had them both on the phone at once. He was looking around and had noticed how he wasn't headed to the...best of neighborhoods. Had he not had ghost powers he might have turned right around. 
He'd gotten a fairly nice hotel room for the long weekend in a somewhat nice area. All of Gotham looked pretty damn bleak to him but at least he could easily survive in a place like this. There was so much ambient ectoplasm in the air that he was, frankly, surprised he hadn't spotted more ghosts. It was all to his benefit though. 
"Wishing?" Tucker chuckled, the sound of his keyboard clicking on the other side of the call. "It'll find you whether we wish it or not." 
"And then you'll be able to say you got to fight in Gotham." Sam lamented. 
"So this isn't about me not bringing you along to help me find this halfa, but because you just wanted to see this city in particular?" 
"Little bit." 
Tucker started laughing. "Damn, Sam. Nothing's stopping you from visiting." 
"There absolutely is." Sam grumbled. "Their names are Jeremy and Pam." "We're graduating soon, Sam." Danny commented. "After both your eighteen birthday and graduation you'll find your freedom." 
"And possibly your way out of their living will." Tucker commented, but Sam only snickered at the thought.
"That doesn't help me today. Danny's out in one of the coolest cities ever on a quest to get laid, and we’re stuck having a boring weekend." "Sam." Danny hissed as if someone else could have possibly over heard their conversation. This entire situation was beyond awkward. He didn't even know how to start. Hi, you're a halfa too? Wild? Wanna sleep with me so i can make sure my position isn't puppeteered?   "What? That's literally why you're there." Sam was back to being amused, conveniently forgetting for a second that she wasn't with him in Gotham. "You're not gonna seduce anyone with that attitude." "I'm not trying-!" "Aren't you supposed to be though?" She hummed. "Gotta put that charm to work, Phantom." "Oh shut up..." Danny grumbled. If this halfa immediately pegged him as king, would they feel obligated to sleep with him? Ugh, this was the worst. If the ghost he was tracking lived in this neighborhood then it was no wonder he was half dead... "I mean, the wording of this could mean anything." Tucker commented right as the clicking stopped. He'd shown his to-do list to Sam and Tucker ages ago, and this hurdle had always seemed so daunting. "Go forth and find what's just. A night of bliss and trust. A match for your soul in desire. A second coming to conspire." Tucker repeated the lines. "Man, someone did not take a poetry class." Danny just made a face, so sick of the instructions that even making fun of it didn't help anymore. "And you think that can mean anything?" Sam hummed quietly. "I guess you were told it was a basic innuendo so that's what you hear. It’s what we all heard." "Yeah, it doesn't say go fuck." Tucker said. "Could just mean you could hang out for a night and vibe. Video games. Take out." Danny made a face. "I can't see me doing that with Vlad either." "I should fucking hope not." He could practically see Sam's disgusted face. "Okay but that still doesn't make sense. I gotta hang out with another halfa? Why? Why would that block the Observants and their never ending input?" Danny wondered. "No idea." Tucker relented, "But it's worth a shot. right? You can always hang out first and see if it works. If it doesn't... well then you know what you gotta do." "Flirt. Bend over and show your butt. It's eye catching." "Sam..." Danny sighed, this was exhausting. She clucked her tongue. "It's good advice. Even Paulina did a double take last week." Danny just made an irritated sound in his throat, nearly tripping over a destroyed section of the side walk. All the businesses nearby had bars across their windows as extra security and more and more people seemed to loiter. "So glad that ship has sailed." Young crushes were painful. "It could also mean cuddling?" Tucker offered. "How'd you make that leap?" Sam asked. "Guys." Danny interrupted suddenly, his ghost sense chilling him. "I'll call you guys back. I might have tracked them down." "Don't forget!" Tucker said, tone only slightly accusatory. Sam just made a noise of agreement. "We'll want the whole play by play." "Well... maybe not the whole play by play." Tucker added, but Danny just hung up on them. His support system was filled with bullies. See if they got their Gotham tee-shirts now! Danny turned down an alleyway, not sure just yet what he was following but it felt fairly powerful. So far he'd seen mostly shades and remnants of what was. He was left to try to find this halfa the same way he had to track down Dani when looking for her, and that usually meant looking for a big source. When he took a turn and nearly walked right into an obvious drug deal, he inhaled sharply and turned invisible. The dealer had looked up at the sound but brushed it off a moment later when he didn't see anyone rounding the corner. Gotham was nuts but at least they weren't clowns. Deciding it really was within his best interest, Danny transformed completely, staying invisible for the time being as he followed his ghost sense through the scary part of town. Minutes felt like hours but he spotted a dude coming closer on a motorcycle and Danny's skin felt like it was vibrating. The halfa was a guy, okay. Danny could work with that, he really could. Even sitting on the bike, the guy looked a head taller than Danny. All the ghost powers in the world couldn't take away him inheriting his mothers build. For fucks sake, did he have to become evil to bulk up?! Danny flew closer, wanting to get a good look, only to have his vision impeded by a red helmet. When the bike swerved and the rider looked around around, likely sensing him, Danny backed off. His jaw was already hanging open in disbelief. Red Hood. That was Red Hood. Red Hood was a halfa?! Okay, he was the freaking Ghost King. When was that memo gonna land on his desk. Holy crap. Was he actually going to ask Red Hood to have sex ...er... platonically hang out with him? Danny's face was going to explode with heat. He flew away, watching him from the sky. Red Hood slowly brushed off whatever he had felt from Danny and rode on, making only a few more turns before stopping at an apartment building that Danny wouldn't have thought was still in use. This had secret lair written all over it. Danny followed, waited, watched. Of course he knew all about the vigilantes of Gotham but he hadn't really expected to run into any of them. Honestly, what were the odds? What did he do? Red Hood was technically a killer but he'd met more then one ghost who'd been avenged. It caused mixed feelings really. After two hours of nothing, a guy walked out of the same apartment. This time in street clothes. Same build, same height, same half energy. Crap. There goes that secret identity. Danny didn't know his name but he knew what he looked like. Dark hair, that curl of white in the front. Light eyes. Permanent looking frown and... Well now, Danny was frowning too. Something about his energy was off putting. Twisted. Wrong. Well... that would need to be looked into. From afar, Danny watched him go about his evening which involved stopping into those little stores and checking on people. Those people seemed to greet him with a friendly smile and know him somewhat well. Danny also got the impression that none of these people knew he was Red Hood, though he wasn't sure it would have mattered if they had. Red Hood was a crime lord but this was his territory... his haunt. Danny wasn't quite sure how this was both incredibly confusing while making all the sense in the world. He'd have an attitude too if his ectoplasm was all jacked up. What was he supposed to do? Suddenly if felt so presumptuous to show up at this guys doorstep to ask for such a favor from a stranger. He could leave and figure something else out, but the guy clearly needed help too. Maybe they could work out a trade or something. Danny felt torn about the whole damn thing and only decided to suck it up and act like an adult when his alternative was to call Jazz and ask for advice and he was not asking his sister about this. He flew ahead of the guy, making it back to his apartment first. He turned human again and sat on the stoop to wait for him. Internally he went over his lines in his head, what he would say, what parts he could leave out but all of that stopped when a shadow towered over him. The guy somehow seemed so much bigger in person. "You alright, kid?" he asked, there was the strange mix of concern and suspicion on his face. "There's housing up the street if you need someplace to go. They take anyone." "Oh uh..." His haunt had a place like that? Cool. So much for all those lines he’d been rehearsing. "I wanted to talk to you, actually. If you have a second?" He raised a brow but gestured to Danny with a nod to continue. Guess they were doing this out here then. "Okay, this is going to sound strange as hell but i've been looking for another halfa to help me with something. It's like.. a stupid huge favor and, fuck i hate even calling it a favor because that sounds weird. I also wanted to say up front that you can totally turn me down too, this isn't like, a demand or anything." Danny started talking, and couldn't seem to stop. His nerves were getting the better of him along side this guys emotions which were confused and itching with something aggravating. "It's not like i wrote this particular law either. I'm not even sure why i agreed to this shit but i've seen bad alternatives before a-" "What the fuck are you talking about, kid?" he interrupted. "Rude. I am actually eighteen." Danny grumbled. His eyes narrowed. Did he think he was lying about his age? "You sure about that?" "Yeah, my birthday is the same day every year." Danny deadpanned, almost getting a smile. "Let me start over, um, my name is Danny." he stood but didn't offer his hand because this guy didn't look like he'd take it. "And i've been looking for you." "Right i sorta got that, but why?" Danny could already feel his ears turning red. "Okay, hear me out because this sound fucking awful. I need to sleep with a halfa." Just rip that baid-aid off right?
Red Hood's frown was back full force. Guess he was still Red Hood since he didn't offer a name. "What the fuck is a halfa?" Danny short circuited. Was it possible this guy didn't know? "Okay." Danny said slowly. "Backing up and starting over again. Did you... You... You know you died once, right?" He scowled. "Yeah, i was there. How the fuck do you know that?" "Oh good, we don't gotta go back that far. Okay. Okay, so a halfa is someone that died. Like me." He gestured to himself. "Who came back. Someone who is half dead and half alive. There's only four of us. I have to sleep with one because of some political bullshit and i know how desperate that has to sound to you but i absolutely can not sleep with my sister or a fruit loop that wants to marry my mom." Red Hood stepped closer, a large hand wrapping around Danny’s bicep and pulling him along with him towards his door. It was opened long enough for the two of them to slip through and then shut and locked again. "Alright, lets unpack everything that just left your mouth and start to pick out the sane verses insane pieces." He said, somewhat exasperated. He was unhappy. Very unhappy. Danny had to hide a wince, guess Hood wasn’t ready to talk about his death. Jazz would be pissed, he needed to learn to be more sensitive about these things. "You're half dead?" "And so are you." Danny said. "Haven't you noticed any ghost abilities?" "Any what...?"  Distress. That was an odd reaction. Danny looked around, there wasn't much furniture but there was a couch and Danny made a show of going intangible and walking right through it. "Anything like that?" Red Hood was frowning. "No. Look. Half dead and half alive sounds more like a zombie to me. Where are you getting this ghost shit? How did you find me at all?" "Ghost sense." He scowled. "Of course." Danny sighed a little, biting his lip and brushing a piece of hair from his face. "Okay, this is my fault. I'm bad at explaining and i'm sorta having too many conversations at once. Lets start with you. You ever seen like.. glowy green sludge?" His scowl deepened, for a second there was true hatred etched into his face but it wasn't directed at Danny. The suspicion and distrust however were. "What do you have to do with the Lazarus Pit?" Danny blinked, it was evidently his turned to be confused. "The what?" "The green shit, kid. The Lazarus Pit. It's what did this shit to me. What drives me insane." Danny frowned. "The green sludge is ectoplasm, which we need. It shouldn't hurt you, but if it did...could explain why you feel so twisted up inside." He scoffed. "Twisted up, that's the kindest way anyone has ever put it. I don’t need someone elses insane ramblings on top of what i already got in my head. So if you're looking for a fuck, go somewhere else." "Okay." Danny muttered, he'd known that could be an option. "But would you let me see if i could straighten out to ectoplasm anyway? I think i can help at least a little and uh, i think your's is trying to eat away at your soul which is...bad?" Hood actually dropped onto the couch, looking beyond done with this day. "Do you think you there's anything i haven't tried?" "I bet you have." Danny said, stepping closer. "But my ectoplasm is healthy and isn't trying to eat me. You don't really have anything to lose, do you?" Trustme. Trustme.  His expression was nearly murderous and Danny could taste the rage. It seemed like he was having a hard time controlling it, and the more Danny looked, the more he was blaming the tainted ectoplasm. It even seemed to block some of the calm Danny was pushing towards him. "Kid, you have no idea what you're -" Danny stepped closer, hands on Red Hood's chest. He could feel the faint humming of a drowning core, trying to breath through the toxicity that had been forced into his body. Danny added his own ectoplasm to the mix, a sort of ghost transfusion. Ghost King privileges came with a wide aura and a lot of energy. There was a shudder, and the difference was almost instantaneous. The tainted ectoplasm had tried to rear up, tried to roll into rage and snowball but Danny just had more to work with. Danny didn't remember kneeling in front of his new acquaintance, or shutting his eyes, or shifting into his ghost form. He was however, aware of his core tuning into Red Hood's, trying to coax it to life...so to speak. He didn't know what it would have been like, a half ghost but confined only to his human side. Maybe if he'd never known any better it wouldn't have mattered to him but the thought of it now was suffocating,
There was a moment when Danny suddenly felt Hood’s confusion. It seems like he was finally picking up on Danny’s silent messages. 
"What did you do?" Red Hood asked, sounding tired, but far less hostile. "You made it quiet. You're also..glowing." Danny looked up at him with a nervous laugh. "Well, i did say i could fix it. This fix is kinda temporary but I know Frostbite can fix it for you permanently. I'll talk to him." He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, "...Thanks...." "No problem Hood." His eyes jerked up and Danny just smiled. "I won't tell anyone..." He hissed in soft irritation but it didn’t match his emotions. He was still riding the high of being in control of that rage. "So i did feel you following me earlier? I swear there was something around." Danny nodded once. "Had to be sure you were who i thought you were... and all..." Excuse. Excuse... Red Hood shook his head. "My name's Jason. I have a hundred questions minimum about this half ghost thing." "I could probably answer most of them?" Danny offered, realizing he was still on his knees in front of Jason and quickly getting up, a cold blush coloring his face as he shifted back into his human form.  Jason watched him, brow quirking again but he seemed so much more relaxed now that the tension was drained out of him and the taint to his ectoplasm was quiet. It almost made him seem a little younger too, not that Danny would have pegged him any older than early twenties, if that. Maybe he was still a teenager too. "Halfa's... You said there were four of us?" Jason asked cautiously. "Yeah." Danny sat on the other end of the couch. "My sister who is also my clone, and Vlad. Billionaire asshole who's a major creep." "Clone. You have an interesting life."   "That's a lot coming from Red Hood." Jason snorted. "Fair." he paused, proving he'd been listening to all the jumbled up words Danny had been spurting. "Why do you have to sleep with a halfa?" "Aah..." Danny's face went hot again. "So...i..." he paused. "Okay this all sounds bad. I defeated the Ghost King in combat, making me the new Ghost King." Jason brow arched again, "Kudos." "Thank you? Anyway... there's a lot of stupid... add on rules. I didn't make them. Hell i don't even know them all. Some ancient jerk just tells me one at a time. Usually with bad timing which is stupid because he basically is time." "And one of them is fucking?" "Ugh." Danny actually groaned, head falling into his hands. "Someone of my own kind and there's only us four..." he spoke into his hands. "Sucks." "Little bit, yeah." Danny looked up at him, hoping Jason wasn’t actually feeling any of Danny’s nerves or embarrassment. "My friend has a theory that it might not mean sex exactly and might be more of a proximity thing." Jason didn't look overly convinced. "And you decided to try that with some guy you don't know over your clone?" Danny blinked, brain crashing. If he could have just had a sleep over with Dani and avoided all of this... certain ghosts were going to get banished from the Infinite Realm. "Didn't think of that did you?" Jason snickered suddenly and Danny just groaned again. "No.... She's like my sister, i just completely wrote it off." He was going to die... again. This time of embarrassment. Jason laughed softly, the sound not used very often these days. "I mean, i guess i get that. Some times things are easier when you're family isn't involved." "You can say that again..." Danny muttered. Jason leaned back on his spot on the couch, watching Danny with something like amusement in his eyes. He was...so different without the tainted ectoplasm gnawing on his soul. He was finally relaxing. "Well, your Majesty. Would this get me a favor with the king?" Danny's blush stretched down his neck. "Don't call me that. It's too weird." "Nope." Jason was grinning now. "Too much fun. You are way too easy to fluster for a guy that just popped up to ask for sex." "That's not-...!..." Danny winced. "I mean you said no, so that's that." "Changing my mind." Jason said instead, attuned to Danny's look of surprise. Ah, fuck he was definitely able to read Danny now. "Besides. "I have a hundred questions, remember? I'm sure we can mange between rounds." "Rounds?" Danny mouthed the word but no sound came out. Okay, it wasn't a big deal if his heart stopped beating but he was pretty sure it just did. Yeah, it stopped. "O..okay." He attempted, but it just seemed to endear him more as Jason moved again, his time leaning closer. Okay, hot guy in his personal space, he could handle this. It was why he was here.   Jason tugged on Danny’s hair. “It changes. Black to white. That’s cool. Kinda wanna see it more.”
Okay, hot guy in his personal space, he could not handle this. “It uh..yeah. Does that. Alive verses dead i guess. I’ll show you once your ectoplasm is worked out. I don’t see why you wouldn’t gain abilities too once your core is sorted out.”  “You really love to say words without context, don’t you?” Jason said and his amusement was loud.  “I guess... i get ahead of myself.” Danny muttered, unable to make eye contact as Jason slid closer. This was not his first kiss. What was going on with him?  "It’s alright, i’m a quick learner. Besides, i really want to say thank you for you clearing my mind, even if it is temporary." Jason muttered. He’d been screaming for help but no one had ever heard him before.  "We will get that fixed." Danny promised, voice just as quiet. "First thing tomorrow, if you want." "Second thing." Jason said, reaching out to cup Danny's cheek this time before drawing him closer to kiss. Danny didn't think you could see stars in Gotham but he was sure seeing them now. ~~~~  ~~~~
I kinda wonder who’s going to tell Danny he just found a consort. My money’s on Frostbite....  ...As for who tell’s Jason?....That’s Dani barging in to meet her new brother in law  Hope you enjoyed this, feel free to add whatever you want.
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Can I request an hold me back scenario with gojo, where someone is like being cruel to reader and gojo has to protect his soft girlfriend? Pretty please
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Gojo sighed, long and loud, as he leaned back on the bench with his legs stretched out in front of him. “This is boooorring…..”
Gojo hated these co-academy events. ‘Goodwill Event’ his eye. There was no goodwill between any of them. Kyoto sucked, and was just a bunch of puffed shirts, and he couldn’t understand why they came all this way just to get their asses kicked.
Still, it was a nice break outside of classes.
“They’re gonna start soon.” Geto told him. Handing his best friend a melon soda, as sugar usually helped calm him down. “Would it kill you to be patient?”
“It might.” Gojo quipped back before sipping his soda. “You’re not a doctor.”
“No. I’m not. Speaking of, where’s Ieiri and [Y/N]?”
“They went to the bathroom I think?” Gojo replied. “Or something girl related like that.”
The Tokyo team this year was just the 4 of them. Which honestly meant it was just going to be the 2 of them. Gojo loved Ieiri and [Y/N] but their combat skills were no where near what his and Geto’s were. They were better at ‘behind the scenes’ stuff. Healing, cloaking, super sneaky stuff that was really of use to him because he always just smashed in since he was the strongest.
Still, he wasn’t worried about them against the curses they caught for the game. Nor anyone on the Kyoto team for that matter.
“Oh. There they are.” Geto commented dully as he saw girls faces come up over the hill. They had iced drinks. So they must have left and come back before the start of the ceremonies.
Just as they crested the stairs, however, a male blocked their path and started talking to them. Gojo didn’t recognize him. But based on his dumb, old-timey outfit he was wearing he figured he had to be from the Kyoto team.
The conversation goes on for a little while longer, before the man pushes into [Y/N]’s shoulders with two fingers. “Oy!” Gojo snapped. Jumping to his feet. Who the hell did they think they were touching [Y/N] like that?? They did it again and Gojo took a step forward before Geto caught him. “Let me go! You think I’m gonna let some goon touch [Y/N] like that!”
“If you kill him now, we’ll get disqualified.” Geto told him. Face pressed against his ear as he held him in a near choke hold.
“Like I care about that!”
The boys struggle for a moment longer. Gojo trying to break free and Geto desperately trying to hold him back from doing something stupid (like always), until they both stopped as the man suddenly fell to his knees with a groan of pain and the girls walked over to them. “What are you guys doing?”
“Trying to save Satoru from getting expelled.”
“What did that guy say to you?!” The boys reply over top of one another.
“I don’t know. Show of dominance I guess? I wasn’t really paying attention until he poked me. Which was just rude. I told him not to do it again and he did, then asked ‘what are you gonna do about it, so I kicked him in the balls.” [Y/N] took a sip of her drink before she added. “You really shouldn’t ‘assert dominance’ with your legs open like that.”
The boys flinch in sympathetic pain, then look over to the guy still on the ground, before they both laugh. “Well, I guess the Kyoto team is gonna be a man down, eh?”
“Let’s get going before we miss the opening ceremonies. Or he rallies and starts to pick a fight.”
“Trust me. No one is gonna ‘rally’ after a full kick from [Y/N].” Gojo replied. Before he linked hands with her and the 4 of them ran away.
Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a boring day after all.
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bonny-kookoo · 5 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes
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What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!
Length: 6.5k words
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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.
"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."
"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.
"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.
"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.
"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.
"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.
"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.
"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.
"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."
"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.
"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."
"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.
"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.
"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.
"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."
Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.
And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.
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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.
She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.
"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.
"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.
'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.
'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.
'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.
"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.
"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.
"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.
"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.
"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.
"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.
"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.
"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.
"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.
"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.
"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.
She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.
"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.
"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.
"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.
"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.
"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.
It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.
"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.
"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.
"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.
"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.
"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.
"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.
"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.
"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"
"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."
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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.
"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.
His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.
He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.
"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.
"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."
"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."
"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.
It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.
"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."
"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.
"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.
"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.
"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.
"Alright, I respect that." He nods.
"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"
"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.
"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.
"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.
"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"
"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.
"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.
"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.
"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.
"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.
"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.
"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.
"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."
Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.
"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.
"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"
"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.
"Why on a trip?" You ask.
"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.
"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.
"Exactly." He nods.
"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-
Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.
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When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.
"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.
"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.
"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.
"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.
"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.
"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.
"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.
"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.
"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"
"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.
"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.
"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."
"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.
"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.
"And I miss him."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.
The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.
"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.
"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.
"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.
"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.
"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.
"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.
"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.
"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.
"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."
"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.
"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.
"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.
"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.
"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.
Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.
You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.
"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.
"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.
"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."
Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.
"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.
"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.
And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.
"-It already is."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.
Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.
Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.
Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.
"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.
"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.
"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.
"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.
"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.
"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.
You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.
What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?
"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.
"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.
"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."
He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?
Marriage. The moment he changed.
Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?
She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?
He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.
He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-
And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.
Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.
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junipers-archive · 1 year
Text
Power-Outage
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Word Count: 1.2k
Includes: fluff, fluff, fluff spencer x reader when a power-outage occurs and spencer being spencer and being adorably the perfect boyfriend
Dark. It is dark and you're alone and its honestly embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone to call your boyfriend. I mean...who's still scared of the dark? What're you 5?
It's two in the morning and you shouldn't be calling, really. You've only been dating for a few weeks, but he's Spencer, he's technically been your best friend for 4 years, 3 months, 2 days. and...about 18 hours, but who's counting? You convince yourself you just need to hear his voice, his sweet, safe, angelic-
"H-hello?"his voice breaks from that of someone just woken up at an ungodly hour by his co-dependent girlfriend who so happened to have accidentally hit the call button while she was second-guessing herself.
Maybe he'll hang up? Maybe you can convince him you butt-called him in the middle of the night tomorrow at work? Or maybe-
"Y/n baby I'm really gonna need you to respond before i drive over there." he sounds calm, not at all agitated, not at all like someone woken up at 2 in the morning, he sounds...like Spencer
"Hi..." You exhale into the mic with relief. You should say something, really say something, apologize, yes that's what you'll do "I'm sorry I shouldn't have called, god I'm so idiotic...I just-well the power just went out and its 2 in the morning and I really should get some sleep but-"
You're cut off by the jingling of keys on the other line.
"Spence you still there?"
"I'm on my way." Was that a car door?
"On your wayy..." It takes you second, or it takes your un-caffienated and sleep deprived brain a second to realize he means he's coming over to your house. Your home. Where you live.
And yes you're bestfriends with him and you've had sleepovers before but that was when you were ready. That was when you had cleaned.
"No! Spencer No! That is completely unessecary! I'm fine! I just wanted someone to talk to and I thought-"
The engine of his car starts. You can hear him trying to repress the laugh that graces your ears every time he knows something you're trying to hide from his genius mind.
"I'm already pulling out of the drive-way, forget about it. Plus I know you're afraid of dark."
Maybe he'll turn around if you just- "Spencer. I am not afraid of the dark. That is childish and obsurd and I mean im not a little kid anymore! You can just go home, go to bed and forget this ever happened"
There's a silence on the other end, besides the hum of the car, absolute silence.
Until, "Do you still have the candle I got your for Christmas?"
Of course. Of course Dr. Spencer freakin Reid wouldn't believe you. I mean he knows you better than anyone. What were you thinking?
"Yea spence. Yea I have the candle"
He hums in response and you can practically hear him grinning on the other end.
You admit defeat.
"Can you at least bring over some marshmallows? I'm all out from our last movie night." You would honestly rather have him over as soon as possible if it weren't for your hideous room and the pile of "i'll get to it" in the living room haunting your mind. This will at least buy you time.
But again he's dr. reid. "I've already got some from my stash, jumbo and small and snowmen shaped. And of course hot chocolate!"
He's perfect. He's everything and more you could've asked for.
And yet. ANd yet. At this very moment you'd like to strangle him. And not that impersonal type of cowardly strangle like really just-
"Don't be embarrassed baby. I've already seen your room at its worst. I'll be there in ten, turn on the candle and read your books for now."
You hear him knock on the door a few minutes later, as to not disturb the neighbors. Because of course, he's Spencer and would've thought about that too.
You run with the only flashlight you have to the front door, and you're greeted by a ruffled, grinning and ever-charming Spencer with his satchel stuffed with god knows what and wearing his periodic table of elements pjs.
You mirror his grin almost immediately, albeit sheepishly and look down to hide your own embarrassment...only to find him wearing the pink bunny slippers he'd stolen from your house only a few days ago.
With that all or any ego-preservation skills were out the window. He was here already...right?
You let him in, still staring down at your shoes as he leads you two straight for the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to find the ingredients and kitchenware as if he'd lived there his whole life.
You take a seat at the kitchen's island stool, and watch him work.
This should be embarrassing. I mean it is. It is!
That is, until he hands you a steaming cup of hot chocolate with little snowman marshmallows dissolving on top and smiling like he hasn't just driven 8 miles with these ingredients to make you happy because you called him.
You called him at 2 in the morning.
And with that the unease floods back. And you're hiding your face in your hands and mumbling something incoherent.
This is when he finally speaks. "So...you wanna build a fort?"
You rub your eyes and look up at him. "i-i'm sorry?"
"We should build a fort." He's assertive in this, something at another time you would've found very hot, but at this moment it concerns you. Because to any other person what you've just done would be unacceptable.
"You...want to...build a fort?"
"I find it helps, I mean...at least when I was younger my mom and dad, they used to help me build forts when the power went out. To distract me if anything. It was kind of the only time I remember them getting along."He chuckles and looks down bashfully.
And now all you can think of is building a fort with the beautiful boy in front of you.
"Yea, yea i'd really love it if we built a fort."
And you do, you build a fort with what now you deem as you're future husband. Lighting the other candle he brought you on the counter that fills the air with your favorite scent and finding battery power camping lamps in your closet to light up the room.
He tells you stories about the kinds of forts he used to build and to the best of both your abilities you try to recreate his favorite.
By around 5:30 in the morning the sun is rising and you're both past out in the center of the monstrosity you two created while high on a sugar rush provided by the hot chocolate and one two many marshmallow snowmen consumed.
But you'll remember this for the rest of your life you think. You'll remember Spencer for the rest of your life. Because no one, no one would understand how to make you forget your biggest fear like he did.
While surrounded by darkness all you could see was him.
He was your light.
He was your light, and for as long as he'd have you, you'd be his too.
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slaybestieslay946 · 1 month
Note
Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.
thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!
Circle
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MASTERLIST
word count: 1800
pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader
warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst
a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!
'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'
When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him. 
Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way. 
The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were. 
It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself. 
You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick. 
And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you. 
He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away. 
Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed. 
He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.
A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for. 
On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food. 
It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden. 
You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet. 
He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement. 
And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it. 
But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt. 
Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it. 
He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you. 
“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.” 
You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes. 
“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”
“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.
“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so. 
He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still. 
And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother. 
Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind. 
“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you. 
He was right, they had to go. 
He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way. 
*
When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb. 
Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him. 
“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.
“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here. 
For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre. 
He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment. 
Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that. 
But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself. 
His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work. 
So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again. 
And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.
He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself. 
“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands. 
“It is, but-”
“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.” 
“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.” 
“And you would give that to her?” 
“Yes.” 
“And you would protect her, better than I can?”
Luke gulped, “Just as well.” 
The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.” 
“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.” 
“And if I do? Look back?” 
“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.” 
Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months. 
He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?
He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again. 
As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules. 
He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him. 
Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him. 
He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy. 
Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?
Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently. 
Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?
So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder. 
And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would. 
At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him. 
Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.
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bloompompom · 11 months
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The Opposite of Star-Crossed
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You had been best friends with Eren for the last five years. Surely, if there were something between you, you would have known by now. Right? ☆ content: eren jaeger x fem!reader. just a rom-com in the form of a one shot. soft and sappy af, modern/college au, idiot friends to lovers, two weirdos falling in love, skinny dipping, rough(-ish?) sex, explicit language, explicit sexual content. reader discretion advised. ☆ word count: ~5.6k
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You met Eren Jaeger during your sophomore year of high school. He was stuck in the in-school suspension room for spray painting the bleachers. You had to spend a week’s worth of lunches there after getting caught cheating on your algebra test. And though you weren’t allowed to talk to one another, you both laughed your asses off when the teacher’s chair lost a wheel and she tumbled to the floor. Eren laughed so hard that chocolate milk came out of his nose.
The incident added an extra day to each of your punishments, but he walked you home that afternoon so it was worth it. The rest was history.
What started with walks home—it was a happy coincidence that you lived on Eren’s route—became an extra lap or two around the block. Just because the conversation was easy. Then, eventually, down to the skate park, where you’d stay well past sunset. Before you knew it, the Jaegers were leaving an extra plate out for you at dinner time. Eren’s mom was always thoughtful like that.
You and Eren went to the same college. Surprise, surprise. Honestly, it wasn’t like you had made the decision together. It was a popular choice for most of your classmates since it was only an hour and a half drive from home. Plus, Eren happened to get a really great academic scholarship, which actually came as a surprise to everyone (except you, of course).
Your relationship with Eren lent itself to jokes. Friends would say how you were too close, teasing you for it as you’d leave to fetch Eren whenever he was drunk, even in the early morning hours when the streetlights would flicker off. But he always had your back, too. In different ways. Like when your food came out wrong at a restaurant, but you were too chicken shit—as Eren lovingly put it—to do anything about it.
It had been going on long enough that no one even bothered to make the classic, ‘just date already!’ comments anymore. But it was never like that. It was just that you never had to think when you were around Eren. You never had to clarify yourself and you never had to worry. It was a comfort, really, to have someone that just gets it.
It was spring break during your junior year. You told yourself you would spend the week trying to play catch-up on your research paper, but Eren talked you into coming along to your friend’s lakehouse, mainly because his car was one road trip away from combusting. Still, it didn’t take much convincing.
You picked him up early in the morning, McDonald’s coffee and hashbrowns in tow, and teased, “You better love me forever after this,” as you kicked on the ignition.
Eren tossed you a smile back as he buckled himself into the passenger seat. “Was already planning on it.”
It was fun. The lakehouse was beautiful—pulled straight from a movie, built of cobblestones and rosy wood. There was even a guest house! And you couldn’t have asked for better weather. You spent the days swimming, the sky radiant with that big blue that’s somehow brighter than the sun, and at night, you swore you could count every star. When you’d head back inside, the smell of bonfire sticky on your clothes, you’d watch your friends play cards on the floor, lying upon your stomach, lazily sipping beer from the bottle until the birds started chirping.
And thanks to said beer, you slept wonderfully the first two nights. But as day three rolled around, you were so hungover that even looking at alcohol made you queasy. So that night, you didn’t exactly pass out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Far from it, actually. You learned the hard way that Sasha, your friend and roommate for the week, had an awful habit of snoring. She was, quite possibly, the world’s loudest snorer.
You tried everything. You poked her to see if she’d wake (she didn’t) and rolled her to her side. Then her other side. You even tried to plug her nose. Nothing helped.
Eventually, you were fed up enough—not to mention, wide awake—that you decided to go on a walk by the lake. You figured you could get a good view of the stars out on the dock.
The day was feverishly hot, leaving the night balmy and the air thick. When you dipped your toes into the water, it was barely any cooler than bathwater.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but at some point, you heard Eren’s voice behind you. “I had a feeling I’d find you out here.”
Unsurprised, you turned to look at him, walking toward you with hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats, and you reckoned, “Because you know I can never sleep?”
“Well, there’s that. Plus the fact that Sasha snores like an old man.”
You frowned. “How nice of you to leave that out when I agreed to room with her.”
“Can you blame me?” The shabby dock creaked when he plopped down beside you. “I wanted you to come.”
His eyelids looked heavy, blinking slower than usual. He was more tired than he led on, but when you told him to go to bed, he only bucked back with, “You first.”
So you let him stay. You were no astronomer, but you entertained him with plenty of facts from the one class you took last year. You spouted them off, squinting with your tongue poked out past your lips, as you tried to make out a single constellation.
“Oh! I think that’s Ursa Major. You can see it because the Big Dipper is—”
Eren was asleep. Knocked out. You didn’t know when he had decided to lay down, but he had flopped back on the dock, an arm thrown behind his head like he had long made himself comfortable. The hand you were about to use to point out the Big Dipper dropped to your side.
Yep. He was definitely tired.
You shoved his leg. “Hey, wake up!”
Eren jolted awake, eyes wide and frazzled as he pushed himself upright. “I’m up, I’m up!”
“I was trying to tell you about space!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes and rested his head on your shoulder. “Tell me again. I’m listening.”
“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” You nudged his side with your elbow. With a snicker, you added, “Maybe you should jump in the lake. I bet that would wake you up.”
There was a pause. You didn’t like the way Eren said, “Not a bad idea,” because he made it sound like it was, most certainly, a bad idea. That ‘I’m down for anything!’ sort of tone. “Is the water still warm?”
He started to stand up like he was actually going to do it.
“You’re insane,” you told him, your laugh cautious. “You’re going to have to go back inside with soaking wet clothes.”
“Not if I take them off.”
You made a sound—something resembling an eek!—when he threw his shirt at your head.
“What? it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said coolly.
You were embarrassed to admit it, but he was sort of right. Maybe, just maybe, you had taken a drunken leak in front of each other, only once or twice, on a walk home. People always said you were too close, remember? But that didn’t mean you’d seen anything!
You slapped your hands over your eyes before Eren took off his boxers. You listened for the splash and waited until the water settled before poking out from between your fingers.
“You’re being dramatic,” Eren said. He looked like he was about to flick water at you, laughing when you flinched. “Are you gonna make me swim alone or what?”
You thought it over (what did you have to lose, anyway?) then started to push yourself to your feet. “Fine. Just—” You did the spinny thing with your index finger. “Just turn around.”
Eren did as he was told. When you were sure he wasn’t looking, you peeled your shorts down your legs. Your tee followed, and since you weren’t wearing a bra, you reached for your underwear next. Before you tugged them off, you reminded him, “Don’t look until I’m in the water.”
“Got it.”
You jumped in and swam around for a moment. The lake was clean and crisp enough that you didn’t mind bobbing your head underwater, letting it wash over your skin that had clammed up from the summer night. Eren wanted you to tell him about the stars again, and after brushing him off a few playful times, you did. Up until—
“Something touched my foot,” you blurted out, your heart sinking deeper with each word. Then, while bounding aimlessly around in the water, you loudly repeated, “Something touched my foot!”
“It’s probably just—”
You cut Eren off with a shriek, followed by frantic yelps of ‘help, help, help!’
He shushed you. “Oh my god. You’re gonna wake everyone up!”
You didn’t hear it; you had already thrown yourself at him, as if he could possibly do anything about it. You just wanted to get your feet off the bottom of the lake, any way you could manage. Even if it meant bear-hugging Eren until he had no choice but to hold onto you.
When the realization hit—you know, that you were naked, chests pressed together, closer to Eren than you had ever been before—you didn’t freak out. Your heart was pounding, so hard that you thought you might bust a rib, but you were no longer freaking out. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you. So calmly that it was almost unreadable. Then you caught the heavy roll of his throat.
You didn’t move away for whatever reason, and you didn’t apologize either. There was nearly a full minute of silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with the sound of crickets. Water smoothly crashed at the shore, and you heard the breeze rapping at the old wooden house.
You quietly asked Eren, “What are you thinking about?” as if he had the right answer. Like he could tell you what you should be thinking at a moment like this.
He started to say something—not even a full syllable left his lips—then he only replied, “I don’t think you want to know.”
On the off-chance he was merely pulling your leg, you thought to laugh it off, but it wouldn’t come out. Instantly, you were hot all over again. You weren’t sure if it was just you, but the unmistakable pink tint to Eren’s cheeks told you enough. Just under his eyes, it blossomed enough that you could still spot it, even in the moonlight.
You didn’t know if you had ever seen him like that before. It made your heart flutter in a peculiar way, and you could no longer look him in the eyes. Your noses brushed as you glanced down.
“Hey,” Eren whispered. He tilted your chin up. “It’s just me.”
That’s the problem, you couldn’t help but think.
‘Problem’ was a bit too harsh a word, though, wasn’t it? There wasn’t truly a problem, none at all, besides that you were wholly confused at how you ended up here. But it looked like Eren seemed to know.
He tried to kiss you then. You inched away. It wasn’t a rejection, and he didn’t take it as such. It was more like a time-out.
Eren stayed close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. He laid the back of his hand against your cheek, stroking the side of your face with his knuckles. You found yourself leaning into it, eyes flitting shut as he told you, “I’ve loved you since we were sixteen. You know that.”
Did I know that? The casualness with which he spoke had you questioning even yourself. Your thoughts were flighty, racing too quickly for you to nab a single memory and inspect it, magnifying glass and all, for any sign that he had loved you. In this way, at least. The way that metamorphosed a friendship into something more.
“Then why didn’t you ever do anything? Why didn’t you say something?”
Eren shrugged slightly, with arms still around you. “It never came up.” You rightfully leered at his boyish answer. “I don’t know. I just wanted to be with you. Any way that you’d have me.”
It really was as simple as that. Eren just knew that he loved you, how deeply he felt it. He never gave it more thought than that, and he certainly didn’t try and assign it any greater meaning. There was never a need to. Just being around you contented him enough. He liked this—whatever your relationship was, however strange it may be—just as it was. And whenever you decided to give him more, if ever, he’d gladly take it.
You still didn’t know what to think or what to say, so you didn’t do either. You kissed him then, full on the lips. He was frozen at first, but when he kissed you back, you melted. You laid your arms over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and pulled yourself closer.
So, this is what I’ve been missing.
The thought both relieved and overwhelmed you. Eren was better at this than you would have imagined—if you had given it any prior consideration. It seemed like he had, though. He kissed you like he had thought about it many times before, exactly how he’d do it. With his tongue parting your lips, hot, and licking into your mouth.
Looking back on it, there were so many times—missed opportunities—over the years when you could have been doing this. Exactly this, just kissing.
Well, to be fair, it wasn’t quite as innocent as mere kissing. You were still naked, after all.
But how wonderful it felt. You wished he had done it sooner. After he walked you home from school, at the edge of your driveway, on some random and meaningless Wednesday afternoon. You wished you had done it sooner, after sneaking out to meet at the park. Hell, you wouldn’t have even needed to sneak out. You could have skipped over all those awkward and teenaged encounters, like the fumbling dry humping that only happens in the back of a car, because his parents let you spend the night.
You wanted to kick yourself for it.
“I think something touched my foot now,” Eren said, only slightly wary. You felt the smile teasing at his lips, right against your own, and giggled. He took a few steps toward the dock. “We should probably get back inside.”
You wondered what sort of face you made right then, even as you tried your best to hide it. You imagined you wore a disappointed expression, something like a puppy dog, because Eren shot you a too-knowing look. “Unless you wanted to…”
He didn’t even need to say the words before you were biting back a smile and nodding. You watched him think, his eyes scanning past you, until he settled on, “The guest house.”
You followed his line of sight to the little bungalow, off by itself between some oak trees. All its lights were off. Entirely untouched. “You want to break into the guest house?”
“It’s not breaking in if we’re guests.”
You decided not to argue it because he was technically right, like always, even if he had to bend the rules.
He started to help you crawl up onto the dock first. You warned him to shut his eyes. ‘Your face is going to be way too close to my bare ass,' and he gave you a look like you couldn’t possibly be serious.
You and Eren slipped around on the wet dock, laughing. You let him take your hand, like he had done many times before, and he led you to the guest house. You both used your free hands to clutch your loose clothing against your bodies because, despite how it looked, you still had some shred of decency left in you.
Eren opened the front door with a snort. “Leave it to the Kirsteins to leave the door unlocked.”
You flicked on a light and, down the hall, you opened a few doors until you found the linen closet. There were a few towels folded neatly inside. The fluffy, hotel-style ones that you probably shouldn’t use after wading around in the lake. But the longer you stood there, sopping wet, the more your teeth chattered. So the guilt didn’t last long before you tossed a towel to Eren and grabbed a second for yourself.
You stumbled into the bedroom in the same manner, opening two more doors until you discovered the nook of a room. There wasn’t a light switch, so you ambled through the dark until you reached the lamp in the corner. It was old—you turned it on with a pull-chain—and its glassy, yellow luster filled the room, its bulb humming low in your ears.
It was the first good look you got at Eren. In the light, you studied him. He stood there in just a towel, lowly tied around his hips. You had seen him without a shirt before, many times. You had seen every groove, every scar, and every freckle. You could make out each and every one, right now. There was nothing different about him. Still, it felt indecent, like you had caught him fresh out of the shower. He looked like it, too, with his hair touseled from his quick attempt at drying it. It felt too intimate.
And all at once, it was the first time Eren had ever made you nervous.
You had never done this before—not with him—and it felt like you were a virgin again. Like you were sixteen and meeting Eren for the first time.
There were a lot of ‘firsts’ with Eren. Ones that you still thought about, but only from time to time. Like the first time he held your hand. He wasn’t even thinking about it when he did it. He just closed his larger one around yours, tearing you from the concert crowd, or else you would have been swallowed whole. It was a common courtesy, something anyone would do for their friend. You were sure he didn’t think twice about it.
You remembered the first time you laid your head on Eren’s shoulder. In the crook of it, right where you could smell that cologne he used to wear. The one you hated. And though you were sobbing—a blubbering mess, actually—you still complained of the scent, how you could still smell it through your snotty, stuffed nose. Eren said he was just happy to see you laughing again, even if it was at his expense.
Once, while you were watching TV on his laptop, he had fallen asleep and unknowingly slipped an arm around you, just over your stomach. You left it there, too sleepy to make a fuss over it, and napped like that for the next hour or so. Then again. And on a few more occasions after that. Those may have been less of an accident.
You felt something—something you couldn’t name—each of those times. You remembered it vividly, how it burned in the low part of your stomach. You told yourself it was happiness and nothing more. And yes, that was part of it, but it went deeper than that. Excruciatingly deeper. You were only realizing it now because it had started to bubble again.
This was another ‘first.’ The first time you were seeing him—like really, really seeing him. Effortless and raw and right in front of you. It was just him.
This time, when you kissed Eren, he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. The kiss was lustier, his hands smoothing over your hips until he dragged your towel down with them. From there, things quickly picked up from where you had left them.
With hands still at your waist, Eren walked you back toward the bed. You fell against it, keeping him close with your hand curved over the back of his neck. He didn’t break the kiss, even once, as he dropped to lie at your side. He let his fingers explore you, from your jaw to your breasts. He was slow about it. So slow that you couldn’t help but moan when his fingertips ghosted over your nipple.
You didn’t know when he lost his towel, but it was gone. You noticed when you reached to take it off but were met with his stomach instead. You splayed your hand over the ungiving muscles, feeling how they tensed beneath your touch—even more once you slid low enough to palm his cock.
You felt him twitch under your hand. At the same time, he groaned into your mouth. He mimicked you, pushing a hand between your legs, making room for himself, and tracing through you with his middle finger.
His touch was light as he made small circles against your clit. You could feel how wet you were just by the way he slipped between you, his finger threatening to plunge inside you. You whimpered, and he started to drag it in and out of you a few times to pull the sound from you again.
You savored the sharp exhale Eren gave when you wrapped your fingers around his cock. You stroked him, base to tip, quickening your pace until he was panting against your face.
You’d already stopped kissing because you were much more attuned to everything else. Pumping hands. Heady shared breaths. His once-vibrant eyes had turned glossy, and you could see the curl of his brows whenever you’d slip your thumb along his tip.
Eren added a second finger inside you. Your hips arched. He was knuckle-deep inside you, the pads of his fingers working against the spot that had every part of you tingling, warmth rippling through you, down to your toes. You started to grind against the heel of his hand, desperately close to coming undone.
“That feel good?” he asked you, his voice all breathy.
You could only gasp a faint, ‘yes’ while you stuttered and struggled to jerk him off much longer.
You heard the little chuckle he did, just through his nose, as he started to leave kisses down the side of your face. Each was deliberate and hot on your skin. With his breath fanning over your ear, he whispered your name. “Come for me. Please.”
“Oh—ah, Eren—fuck,” you choked out. And just as you breathed, “I’m coming,” it washed over you. You slapped your hand on top of his, pressing down and riding his hand like you were no better than a dog in heat.
Your body went limp and lazy, your chest heaving, as his fingers left you. When you could open your eyes again, you found him with his fingers in his mouth, indulgently tasting you. Your face burned.
You didn’t comment on it—your mouth dumbly agape as you stared him in his pretty, pleased face—before he was above you. He spread your legs even wider, enough for him to nestle in between. When he touched you again, still bleary and sensitive, you squirmed.
“Do you need a minute?” Eren asked.
You shook your head. He started to rub your clit, gently coaxing out the needy part of you.
“It feels good,” you assured. And when your eyes fluttered to look at him, all swoony and slow, you were only thinking of him. “I want this.” You lifted your legs, one at a time, and hitched them around Eren’s waist. “I want you.”
He kissed you again like he couldn’t bear going another second without you. You traded kisses, and between them, he muttered, “You’re on the pill, right?”
“Yeah. You’re good.” You reached down, gliding your hand over his cock before guiding him to your entrance.
Eren’s eyes left your face to watch where he’d bury inside you. He tilted his hips, stopping short of bottoming out because, for a split second, he was already worrying about finishing too early. The thought mortified him. Thankfully, it appeared like you needed a second to breathe, too.
There was a stretch. It had been a while since you had been with anyone, and while you didn’t get a long look at it, in your hand, it felt like Eren was—ahem—well-endowed. You dug the blunt of your nails into his biceps.
“Ouch,” Eren softly chuckled.
You eased up. “Sorry.”
“Was that a good scratch or a bad scratch?”
“Good.” You sighed as he rocked into you again, filling you entirely. “Really good.”
“Good.” He pecked the side of your face, right at your temple. It made your heart skip.
He dipped his head, nuzzling his nose into your neck and letting his breath swelter your skin. You held him close with your arms tucked just under his, your hands flattened against the sinews of his back.
You pressed your lips to his throat, sucking and nipping away at the delicate skin. The scent of him, masculine and familiar, tickled your nose. You grazed your teeth along the intoxicating spot, right where you felt his pulse.
Eren took his time with you. He thrust into you with long strokes, allowing you to feel every inch and adjust to him. Each roll of his hips was doting and as though he believed he could break you. You didn’t know where the sudden gentleness came from, considering this was the same boy who used to throw you into a headlock when you were annoying seventeen-year-olds.
If there was a coy way of saying it, you didn’t think of it in time. “You can be rougher with me.” You tried to keep your voice honeyed to prevent any embarrassment from seeping through, but it didn’t work. “O-only if you want.”
He leaned back just enough to look you in the face. “Is that what you want?” You nodded.
Eren knew everything about you. He knew how you struggled to sleep at night and your favorite foods. He knew your birthday, obviously, and how you couldn’t even think about Bubba from Forrest Gump without getting a bit misty-eyed. Only enough for him to tease you for it.
But you, right now, like this—he knew nothing about you.
He thought of all the people you’d been with. Past boyfriends you’d introduced him to, flings, and, surely, there were some he didn’t know. Eren wondered how they were rougher with you, how they had put their hands on you, and where. Perhaps with fingers wrapped around your throat.
The thought upset him momentarily, but when he realized you might like it if he did that to you, he groaned.
Eren paused, sucked in a heavy breath, and sat back on his knees. You followed his scorched eyes as they trailed over you. He tucked some of his loose hairs away from his face to get a better view.
He raised you by the hips and used the leverage to sink you back onto his cock. The angle was better, deeper, and you let out a sound to let him know.
Every slam of his hips was met with him yanking you back on his cock, watching your pretty body bounce with each. He fucked you like that, his fingertips searing into the fat of your ass, until you weren’t grasping at the sheets but clawing at him—for more of him.
He traced his thumb over your bottom lip but stalled, still heedful to what you may or may not like. But as he slipped it into your mouth, you sucked on it eagerly, swirling your tongue around it. He imagined how you’d do the same with his cock.
“So good,” Eren murmured to you. He pushed his thumb in further, pressing it on the back of your tongue until you gagged. You’d do the same with his cock.
You gasped when he pulled his thumb from your mouth with a pop. Wet with your spit, he brought it to your clit, rubbing right where he split you. His other fingers pushed down on your stomach, adding enough pressure to make your head spin.
He wanted you to come again. He wanted you to come over and over and over because, fuck, you made the cutest face when you were coming. He had only seen it once, not even thirty minutes ago, but he already knew he would never get enough of it.
Eren loved every part of you, and this side was no exception. Maybe it was his new favorite. He knew how that sounded, though, and it made him a bit guilty to think like that. He just liked that he could make you feel this good. That, for once, there wasn’t a single thought in your mind other than how euphoric you felt, and he was the cause.
“Eren,” you whispered. You gazed up at him, radiating body heat and desire above you, with abs tight and tensing each time he stuffed himself inside you. You reached for his face with needful, grabby hands. “Kiss me.”
His heart swelled. He took your cheeks between his hand, pinching them together before kissing you. It was filthy. Sucking tongues and bumping noses and swollen lips. You swallowed the growl he let slip, right as you started to come. Each of your whines was punctuated by your muscles squeezing him perfectly. So perfectly. Only then did his need consume his consideration for you, no longer kissing you but more focused on pounding into you, harder than before.
“I love you,” you cooed, even as he unceremoniously fucked you deeper into the bed, with a voice no greater than a weak mumble against his neck.
“I love you so much,” you said again, louder. It was moany and giggly and disinhibited. It was the truth.
Eren came then, just as your legs went slack and fell to the sides. He never stilled nor slowed as his hips strained to continue ramming into you—just because you felt that fucking good—until you couldn’t imagine he was still coming.
“Jesus—fuck,” he grunted, his forehead falling against yours. He didn’t say it then—he couldn’t, even if he wanted to—but he had never finished inside anyone. Ever. And he definitely did not expect his first time to be inside you, of all people. His cock threatened to stiffen again at the thought alone, despite it still leaking inside you.
You didn’t get up, and you didn’t mind the mess you had made. Just for now. You curled up against him, his chest your pillow, and rested a hand on him. He was warm to the touch, practically scalding, but you were, too. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to untangle from his side.
You asked him, your voice a sleepy purr, “When did you realize it?” Eren looked down at you with interest. “That you loved me.”
You could tell he wasn’t expecting the question. He mulled it over, long enough that you had started counting his steadying breaths, then finally decided on, “Remember that day you almost died at that concert?”
That was so long ago—the same day he first held your hand.
“Okay, ‘died’ is a bit excessive.” You gave him a chagrined look. “But, really, that was it? Because I looked dumb and pathetic at a concert?”
“I didn’t say you looked dumb and pathetic. Don’t put words into my mouth.” Eren flicked your forehead. He actually found you helplessly adorable, in the middle of the pit, dressed in one of his shirts because you didn’t want to stand out. You definitely still did. “But, no. It was after that. When we went for milkshakes.”
You used to do that so often that all the times had blended together.
“We were walking back to your house, and you dropped yours, so I gave you mine.” He peered down at you. “I wanted that milkshake really damn bad,” he admitted with a laugh because he knew how ridiculous it sounded when he said it aloud. “I remember thinking I wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”
Eren played with your hand as he spoke, the tips of his fingers dancing up the length of your own, between them, and locking them together.
“Maybe I was just a stupid sixteen-year-old that didn’t know any better, but I must have been onto something because I’d still do it.”
You smiled up at him, all big and embarrassing, that was for sure.
Eren had told you everything. Forked over his heart and granted you permission to do with it what you wished, whatever that may be.
So you knew he wasn’t expecting it when you sang, “Carla’s going to be sooo happy,” drawing it out unnecessarily and annoyingly long.
“Please don’t talk about my mom right now,” Eren groused. He didn’t think he could physically handle hearing another one of your MILF jokes. Especially right now, considering what you had just done together—what he had just confessed to you.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. You lost the waggish grin on your face and replaced it with something more genuine, lovesome. “I meant what I said. I want you. All of you.”
Eren smiled, laughed through his nose again—you still weren’t getting it, were you?—and petted the side of your face. “You already have me.”
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bookbrokelibrarian · 29 days
Text
Well That’s Not My Name.
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Soap x single parent!reader
Warning: preexisting relationship, mentions of cheating (not soap or reader), inaccurate baby stuff, fluff, f!reader
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“Careful…careful now.”
You grin, hearing your boyfriend’s voice whispering from behind you. You figured you would’ve seen him walking with the sweet girl, having her walk up to you.
Or honestly anything else.
However you weren’t expecting to turn and see your almost two year old daughter with a small tower of plastic fruits and foods balancing on her head, while she held still in her high chair.
“Johnny-!”
He mutters a swear as the tower topples and your daughter begins to giggle. Her laughter filling up the kitchen as you get her little lunch together.
“What are you doing?!” You whine, poofing up her tiny little turnip ponytail. “She’s not a table top-!”
“I’m just playin with her, Bonnie.” Soap responds, chuckling as he walks around the high chair to pull you towards him with his arm.
His lips plants a kiss to your cheek as you pout and glare playfully at him.
“Last time you balanced a damn shoe on her head and it had mud all over the bottom-“
“She’s fine! Isn’t that right, wee yin?”
Your daughter shrieks in joy as he tickles her sides and kisses her cheek.
Turning, you go back to cutting up the tiny pieces of banana and peanut butter on a plate with her baby crisps.
Baby Annabeth, or “Annie” as you call her, was born in a time where you didn’t know what the hell you were doing.
You’d found out your boyfriend cheated on you when you were a few months pregnant. And holy hell did it just about ruin you.
You were scared. In your mid twenties and pregnant with a man that barely respected you until you found out he did something to ruin his own image.
While trying to pick yourself back up you met Soap when he was passing you at the grocery store, seeing you trying to reach for something. From that point on he’d run into you a lot. Never saw a ring, never saw a man around you, and you weren’t showing at the time so he just thought you were a single woman.
Soap found out about your situation when he tried to ask you out, and insisted he really didn’t mind. Just wanted to get to know you. Just like friends? Right?
Wrong.
You went out for a few weeks before he was sent off again.
In his deployment he couldn’t get you off his mind, always wanting to talk to you, thinking of you, wanting you. Just you.
Maybe it was just the hormones but you fell in love. Hard. In the time you spent together it was like the fairy tales of your youth. A knight in shining armor, a gentleman, someone who you almost called the love of your life (at the time. He very much is referred to as such in the present.)
He was just, so attentive. So kind. Someone to lean on in your times of discomfort and mood swings. Ah. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier.
Yet it’s always the total packages that end up being the goofiest, stress enduring creatures.
Since Annie was able to sit up on her own he’s just been…absolutely manhandling her! Tossing her in the air, tossing her on your fluffy bed, bouncing her on his knee so she makes the funny little humming hiccups babies do.
One time he goes, “(Y/n), look at this.” And you watched as he squeezed her little tummy till she tooted!
They both thought it was hilarious until you scolding him for it. “Alright, alright I’ll stop.” He pouted, holding her up next to his face. You melted very quickly much to your dismay.
Oh my gosh and her HAIR! Ever since she had enough hair to put in tiny little turnip tails he’s been giving her all kinds of styles. You banned him from doing her hair when he got a little elastic caught on her strands.
He didn’t deserve all that punishment honestly, the poor man felt awful. Just about cried when he asked you to help him.
Annie was honestly just as much Johnny’s daughter as he was her dad. You told him he could call himself that, after her first birthday. It’s like he was meant to be in her life. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to love him.
“She’s been touching her ear all morning- reckon she’s got an ear ache or so?” You heard Soap ask.
You frown, placing her plate down in front of her as you lean down to peak in her ear, rubbing it as you do so.
Annie was fine until to got to the very top part of the ear where she let out a tiny whine.
Your daughter didn’t really talk, or babble, like other kids her age did. She wasn’t two yet, but kids that you met through her daycare are calling people by what sounds like their names, or mumbling to themselves. It was just concerning a bit.
Besides you never had a baby before you didn’t even know if this was a serious issue.
You assumed it was but had been trying to talk to her about random things hoping she would pick up on how words sounded and maybe get her to start talking.
Hell, she hadn’t even said mama yet.
“She probably scratched herself, looks like she’s playing with a scab. I’ll cover it with a bandaid maybe she’ll stop.”
Soap just hums behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder as he pecks your neck.
“Lass has talons, that’s for sure. She just about tore my skin off when I tried to tickle her this morning.”
You groan. “I need to cut her nails then.”
Soap huffs a little chuckle as he reaches out and picks a piece of Annie’s little crisps from her plate and eats it. Annie is quick to complain, pointing at him and kicking her legs quickly.
“I know.” You nod, “I saw him! He just takes your food!”
Annie pouts and wags her finger at Soap. She lets out a small shirek as he reaches for another before letting out a “ONNY!”
The two of you pause at her outburst.
“What-“
“No Onny!”
Soaps arms retreat until his hands are on your shoulder. “She callin me ‘Bonnie’?”
“I-…I think she’s trying to call you, ‘Johnny’?”
“Onny!”
Soap scoffs. “I’m yer dad-“ he points at her, “first of all. And second-“
“My!” Annie interrupted Soaps sentence, pulling her plate away.
“Oi-fuckin-“
“Johnny!!”
The sergeant winces and covers his mouth with his fist as he glances at you. “Sorry, sorry- potty mouth.”
You scoff, “her first words aren’t even ‘mama’ and now you’re swearing again in front of her-!”
“I ken, I ken!” soap laughs, trying to hug you. “I’m sorry-“
“Fuckeen!”
Your eyes widen, never leaving Johnny’s paled expression as you press your lips together, hearing the word leave your daughter’s giggling mouth.
Soap doesn’t even want to look at you as his head lowers and is buried in his hands.
“Fu-Fuckeen-!”
“No!” Soap cuts in, “no! No no. Do not say that- we do not-“
“Fuck!”
“N-No!” He laughs. Soap clears his throat and puts his straightest face on. “Bad word. No. Bad Annie. We don’t say that.”
Before you can say anything you sigh, reaching up to plug your ears as tears well up in your daughters eyes.
You saw it coming as soon as he said ‘Bad Annie.’ Poor thing thought he really upset her dad.
Annie began to wail, big dopy tears spilling down her chubby cheeks.
Soap picked her up from her high chair in his arms and began to bounce from his knees, cooing and soothing the distressed little girl.
“Now you’ve done it-“
“Oh ye shush. It wasn’t on purpose-“
“‘Bad Annie’?” You quoted with your fingers.
Soap sighed and held her in his arms, switching so Annie could see you. She reached over for you, finally a “mama” leaving her lips.
You bit your tongue as you reached out for your little baby, cooing and kissing at her head. “What’s the matter, sweet girl?”
“Onny- *hic* m-mean.”
“What-?!”
You couldn’t help the laugh and the pointed fingers at your lover as his jaw drops. “Johnny’s mean? Your daddy’s being mean?”
Annie can only nod and bury her face into your neck.
Soap smooths out his Mohawk, taking a step to you before Annie lets out another shriek. “No!”
You blink as the scream potentially erases your hearing in your right ear for a moment before walking away with baby Annie in your arms.
“Oh come on, lass!”
You wink at him as you point to the plate left over. “No please! Help yourself to a snack, ‘Onny.’”
As you leave the kitchen, a pouting Scotsman is left to his own devices, opting to clean up as he pops another crisp into his mouth.
“Lucky I love the shite out of them both. Bloody devils-“
“Heard that!”
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A/N: lmao idk I just work here
Dividers by: @cafekitsune
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