#like every time i get Messed Up again i develop some new fear or whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1kook · 3 years

Text

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

2K notes · View notes

comfortbucky · 3 years

Text

𝗻𝗼𝘁-𝘀𝗼-𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽

WAIT HI HELLO HEADCANON OF (tfatws!bucky) ROOMMATE!BUCKY SECRETLY CONFESSING HIS FEELINGS TO THE READER WHILE THEY'RE SLEEPING BUT HE DOESN’T KNOW THEY HEARD HIM

gif credit: @buckysbarnes

pairing: roommate!bucky x gender neutral!reader

tags: roommate!bucky, soft!bucky, friends to lovers, fluff

A/N: BESTIES THIS IS SO LONG LMAO MY B

my masterlist!

u landed a dream job in ur dream location: brooklyn, ny

and u were absolutely ecstatic

the only issue was money

the cost of living in nyc is ridiculous

so u needed a roommate

it just so happened that around the same time, that a certain super soldier was looking for a place in his hometown brooklyn, as he was finally starting a “normal life” or whatever dr raynor said

so u found a 2 bedroom apartment and put signs up around the surrounding area in search of a roommate

u keep it super simple, not wanting to reveal too much about urself bc u figure that might attract creeps

ur friends called u old fashioned for that, but u figured posting online on craigslist would result with u, on the news, dead, bc u ended up living with a serial killer

bucky is walking around the familiar, but very different, streets when he comes across ur roommate ad and decides to go for it (he’s already lost steve what else does he have to lose)

so he takes a number and waits until he gets to the hotel room he’s been staying at to call

ur simultaneously nervous and excited about ur first, and only, response to ur roommate ad bc u have no idea what to expect but also desperate to find anyone who can help split the cost

“hello?” ur question is met by a low, husky voice

bucky is thrown off by the softness of ur voice but quickly pulls it together

“hi, i’m bucky. i saw ur flyer for a roommate.”

u are really glad this is being done over the phone because this man’s voice alone is making ur cheeks heat up

u guys plan a time for bucky to come over and take a look at the place before he finalizes his decision

the day arrives and u feel ur stomach doing flips when u hear him knock at ur door

u open the door are immediately drawn to his piercing, ocean-blue eyes

bucky is immediately captivated by ur beauty, he avoids ur gaze for a moment, looks back up when u greet him

“hey.” u give him a small smile and he returns it

“hi.”

u move to the side to let him in

this man literally had no criteria in mind for finding an apartment other than it being close to a park for his walks at ungodly hours of the night

so he accepts

ur friendship starts off… slow

at first, u both mind ur business, living ur lives and barely speaking

everytime bucky came back to the apartment he would just walk into his room, shut the door and stay there

u rarely saw him, and honestly wondered when he ate because he was literally never in the common areas of ur apartment

but u were preoccupied with starting ur job that u didn’t mind at all because he was a good roommate, never made a mess, paid on top, and was fairly quiet

sometimes u would hear him wake up in the middle of the night and leave, closing the door to ur apartment so gently, as to not wake u up

the first time u guys spent time together was when he went on his first date

he didn’t tell u about it beforehand, of course, but u were sat on the couch, binge watching new girl when he walked out of his room and headed straight for the exit, saying nothing

u could smell the cologne he put on (it smelt like pine trees) and had a feeling it was a date bc u had never smelled that cologne before and he had spent like an hour in the bathroom right before he left

it must have been 45 minutes tops before he stormed back into the apartment and went to the kitchen to grab a beer

u immediately knew something was off and that he was upset from his body language and the fact that his date lasted less than an hour

“hey, u okay?” ur question is met with a grunt

u see bucky start to retreat from the kitchen to his room and u decide to say something again

“do u wanna watch tv with me?”

bucky pauses in front of his bedroom door before he turns around, nods, and plops himself on the couch next to u

he makes sure to leave some space between u guys, wanting to be respectful

u both sit in silence for a bit until a joke is made onscreen and u giggle

bucky turns to u and can’t help the soft smile that forms on his lips

he falls asleep that night, dreaming about what he could do or say to hear the sound of ur laugh again and doesn’t have a nightmare

from then on, movie nights became a regular occurrence in the apartment (once a week MINIMUM)

ur regular bonding experience helps u form a stronger friendship with bucky, having thoughtful conversations with each other

he’s thankful that u don’t ever push him into talking about something he’s uncomfortable with or not ready to talk about

u always just offer a smile and shift the conversation

u see him more in the common areas, even just to sit at the dining room table to read a book in silence

and the gap that once existed between u guys gets smaller and smaller every movie night

for a bit, nothing more ever happened other than ur thighs touching each other, side by side

until one night when u had a really long day at work and end up falling asleep during the movie, ur head landing right on bucky’s shoulder

at first he’s startled by it but looks down to see the light from the screen making ur skin glow in the dark

he’s taken by ur beauty, observing every little detail from the shape of ur nose to ur soft lips

and then he immediately snaps out of it bc he realizes how creepy he must be

and now he’s panicking internally bc he doesn’t know what to do

he doesn’t want to wake u up because u had just told him about ur exhausting day at work

but he also doesn’t want to let u fall asleep in this position bc he knows ur neck is going to be sore in the morning

he makes the decision to try and shift ur body so that ur laying on the couch

and as he’s being so careful to move u, scared that he might wake u, u start to stir and he freezes

u remain asleep and end up snuggling up closer to him and he feels his heart skip a beat

with ur repositioning, he’s able to easily pick u up, bridal style, and carries u to ur room and lays u down onto ur bed

as he’s starting to stand up, he stops, realizing ur hand has a firm grip on his sleeve

u mumble, so softly, that if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he probably wouldn’t have understood it

“stay.”

bucky feels his heart racing and can’t help but smile

he gently shifts u over, making room to lie down on his side next to u

he leaves a little bit of space bc he’s nervous he misheard u or something

but then u move ur body closer to his, resting ur head on his chest and draping an arm across his side to pull urself closer and let out a content sigh

ur half-awake at this point, but u don’t let bucky know that, selfishly wanting to do anything to remain in his arms

bucky is frozen in absolute shock

he can’t remember the last time he cuddled with someone

let alone someone he started to develop feelings for

he quickly snaps out of his thoughts to wrap his arm around u, holding u close to him and rests his chin on the top of ur head

he places his other hand on the top of ur head, gently stroking ur head

bucky thinks he must be dreaming

he places a gentle, soft kiss on ur forehead, before whispering his confession

“wish i could call u mine, doll.”

bucky’s heart literally stops as he sees ur eyes flutter open to look up and see him, paralyzed in fear

u smile and kiss him on the cheek

“u should.”

all of bucky’s worries immediately faded away as soon as u smiled at him

he smiles back, feeling the most happy he’s felt in 90 years

he replies by gently tipping ur chin up to him and placing a soft kiss on ur lips

“so happy ur mine.”

568 notes · View notes

junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

Text

five hearts on the line | pjs

i know that i said last chapter that this one wouldn’t be as angsty but then i started writing and it sorta just happened? so there’s some angst in this one (forgive me again my loves 🥺)

Hope was never a plan, only a direction. After all, you could hope for money and with that hope make a plan to get it. Or you could hope for your parent’s approval but actually getting it was a different process for everyone. Jay had hoped for a future with you and Ni-ki, he really did. It was the direction he saw the rest of his life going towards, you and him as the parents of three boys. He knew it was foolish of him to hope of such things when so much chaos had happened and it was still too early since you never actually put a label on the relationship, hence, why he was going to ask the “what are we?” question that night.

17 days, 20 hours, and 30 minutes was how long it had been since you last saw each other face to face. But who was counting? At this point, he was entering himself into self-given heartbreak and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The scent of your shampoo still lingered on the fibers of his pillowcase but he couldn’t bring himself to wash it away. When he closed his eyes he could still feel your head resting on his chest and your fingers trailing random patterns on his arms. Some days it seemed like he could still hear Ni-ki’s giggles mixed in with Sunoo and Jungwon’s. The boys were doing ok, they still talked to each other at school, and Jay would bring them to the bakery if they wanted something. But he no longer went inside. He’d tell his boys that he needed to take a call or send a quick email and instead would wait for them in the car but really, he was just too scared to see you because he knew that the second he saw you he’d fall back in love all over again. Or maybe that love never left and he’d instead be forced to acknowledge its existence. The door to his office opening brings Jay out of his thoughts, sounds of excitement from his sons greeting his ears.

“Thanks, man,” he said to Jake with a small smile. This situation felt familiar to him and it didn’t take long for him to realize that it was because the first time he heard about you was when Jake brought the boys to his office and you defended him against Minjoo’s grandmother.

“Can we sleepover at Ni-ki dongsaeng’s place tomorrow?” Jungwon asked. Tomorrow was Saturday meaning that he’d drop off the boys Saturday morning, see you, leave, pick up the boys Sunday morning, see you, and leave again.

“I’ll text his mom tonight.”

Later that night after the boys were put to bed and he was laying in his, he found himself constantly typing and deleting what he had initially written out. To his surprise, you had texted him first with a simple “hey” to which he responded the same. While sorting out the details of tomorrow, Jay couldn’t help the slight happiness filling him now having a reason to talk to you again.

You couldn’t really place a name on the feelings coursing through your veins when you woke up on Saturday morning. Nerves, slight anxiousness, maybe even fear? While you were glad to be able to spend time with Sunoo and Jungwon, seeing Jay was a different story. The thought of seeing him again left you restless which led to constantly tossing and turning in bed, ultimately resulting in a sleepless night. When the morning came, you heard a knock on your door and upon opening it the boys greeted you before quickly rushing to Ni-ki’s room, leaving you alone with Jay. He looked like a mess, hair slightly messy, eyes somewhat bloodshot red, and lips chapped dry. You probably didn’t look any better either.

“Are you ok?” Upon saying it you realized what a dumb question it was. Only a little over two weeks had passed and two weeks wasn’t nearly enough to get over what happened. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get over it.

“Still processing, you?” Jay replied.

“Yeah, same here.” There was a sort of longing look in Jay’s eyes. That kind that told you he felt as if he wanted to say something but chose not to.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” was all his reply before leaving.

Spending the day with three boys like Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki meant that they were eager to do whatever it was that you had planned for them. You had decided to try out new cake recipes and in the process using them as your little helpers and taste testers. While it did result in the boys getting cake mix all over their clothes and a little on their faces, their smiles of happiness and giggles of joy were well worth the cleanup after. When night came and you were tucking the boys into bed, you felt a hand grab yours. Seeing that it was Sunoo’s, you smiled,

“What’s up, bubs?”

“I don’t want Appa to pick us up tomorrow, I wanna stay with Eomma.”

“Eomma?” you asked. He nodded with a pout,

“Minjoo said that living together makes you a family and we lived together which makes you our Eomma, not our Noona! But because you and Ni-ki left he said you and Appa got divorced and you chose Ni-ki instead of me and Jungwon.” Tears started to fall from Sunoo’s eyes as he continued, “Wae, Eomma? Can’t you keep me and Jungwon-ah too?”

“Sunoo, I…” what were you even supposed to tell him? This was a conversation you shouldn’t be having with just the boys alone, after all, Jay needed to be here since they were his boys. Jungwon ended up waking up and crying too at the sight of his hyung crying which led to a confused Ni-ki. As you hugged the boys and rubbed their backs, your ears were met with blubbers of “Eomma” and “Eomma stay.” You didn’t know how long it took for them to calm down and finally head to sleep but once they did, you knew that you needed to talk to Jay now. Your hand trembled a little when holding your phone but as you heard Jay’s voice, you felt somewhat calmed.

“Everything ok?” he asked, sounding like he had just woken up. Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding,

“Can you come over?” Hearing some shuffling from his side of the line,

“I’m on my way.”

When Jay got to your apartment it was nearing midnight. Without thinking, your hand took his and you led him to your room so that the boys wouldn’t wake up. Looking up at him,

“We need to talk.” He brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously,

“I figured.”

“Sunoo and Jungwon called me eomma.” Jay’s eyes went wide,

“They what?”

“Minjoo, remember the kid with the nosey grandma?” you looked at him and saw him nod then continued, “He told the boys that living together makes you a family. Since me and Ni-ki lived with you guys that led them to the conclusion that I shouldn’t be called Noona, I’m their Eomma. Because Ni-ki and I don’t live with you anymore they thought we got divorced and that I chose Ni-ki over them. Jay, what do we do?” Silence washed over the room as Jay furrowed his eyebrows until finally,

“I lied,” Jay said. Looking at him confused you wanted to ask what had he lied about but he continued, “the night that your mom called. I lied and I’ve been regretting it ever since,” he finished. You racked your mind trying to remember what went on before your mom called and then you remembered. It was the conversation you two had about “like-liking” each other. He had lied then?

“W-what?” you can’t stop the stutter that escapes you as your mind tries to process that Jay lied to you.

“I lied.”

“That night, you asked me if I like-like you and I said yes. But I didn’t because what is this, high school?”

“Oh.” It came out just barely above a whisper out of millions of words to exist in the world, “oh” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say.

Was it a lie every time he called you love?

Was it a lie whenever he’d hold your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze?

Was it a lie the nights he’d run his hands through your hair and talk about how happy he was you were with him?

Had you been led on this entire time?

Then you couldn’t but think that maybe it was karma.

You didn’t think about how Sunoo and Jungwon would be affected with your presence there only for it to be gone after a few weeks.

You didn’t think about how to explain to Ni-ki the whole situation with K and instead downplayed it.

You didn’t think at all because you were too damn caught up in feeling.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping.

Jay’s next words are enough to get you out of your thoughts and back to reality. As they make themselves known to your ears, your eyes are near to tears.

“I lied because how the hell was I supposed to tell you that I love you?”

“Jay, you can’t be serious? Y-you can’t just love me!”

“I didn’t,” he sighed and brought his hand up to rub his forehead, “I didn’t say it just to hear it back from you. But we both know there’s no damn way we’ll ever go back to being normal or just friends because we never were in the first place.” Jay was right and you knew it. If anything you wanted to laugh a little at how foolish it was for the two of you to just somehow develop feelings so early on after meeting each other. Though neither of you had actually said the l-word out loud until Jay did just now, you had felt it in so many ways. It was exchanged in all the stolen glances and late-night cuddles. It was there the mornings you and Jay rushed to get the boys to school and the nights they’d plead for “just one more” bedtime story. It lingered on through the hopes you had for what one day could be your future like surprise visiting Jay’s office during lunchtime and bringing food using the excuse of, “I tried some new recipes and wanted you to taste it before I sold it,” or even one day having the privilege of being called Sunoo and Jungwon’s mom. But those were fleeting moments and hope wasn’t a plan, it was merely a direction.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you muttered.

“Give us a chance.”

“What happens if we break up, Jay? What happens if Won and Sunoo want to stop by the bakery for some cupcakes but they can’t because you and I can no longer face each other? What happens when it’s not just you and I heartbroken, it’s the kids too? There are five hearts on the line here.”

“And I’ll do everything in my power to protect each and every one of them.”

“What happens if you can’t?” You felt Jay hold your hand and after missing his touch for so long, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“What happens when I can? What happens when this lasts just like I believe it will? What happens when,” you feel his thumb rub your ring finger and hear him take in a deep breath as he continues, “I put a ring on this hand and the two of us are facing each other at the altar? What happens when the five of us are taking trips to Brunei and Japan in the summer and all the other places we wanna explore together?” You wanted to believe Jay, wanted to one day fulfill all of the things that he talked about. But you couldn’t put this want into words and instead chose to answer him through action. Bringing a hand up to his shirt collar you pulled him closer to you and met his lips with yours. Unlike your first kiss with Jay or the brief ones you exchanged from time to time that were filled with passion, this one was filled with possessiveness. You could feel it in how his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest as if he were scared that you’d fall into a black hole if he let go. You displayed it in how one hand of yours clung onto his shirt while the other cupped his face in hopes of keeping him here. Hope was never a plan, only a direction. But as you close your eyes breathing in Jay’s scent and reveling in the taste of him, you were desperately wishing this would be the right direction.

↬ a/n (2/2):

the end. JKJK this chapter isn’t the finale it’s the next one & i have no clue how i’m gonna wrap this story up-

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul ) | next | series masterlist

unable to tag: @smileyjimvn | @tubaotter | @babychangmin | @snghnluvr

taglist status: open (comment or send an ask to be in it !!)

❦ main blog masterlist | blog navi

237 notes · View notes

lexosaurus · 3 years

Text

Going Angst Week 2021: Birth

I wrote a short five part fic for this year’s Going Angst Week! Fair warning as the event suggests, no one in this fic will make it out on top.

Chapter One: Birth

---

“Don’t think of it as a death, think of it as a sort of rebirth.”

That’s what Vlad had told him anyhow, after he discovered who—or rather what—Danny was at their college reunion.

“Who were you before this? A nobody, right? Just some little hormonal fourteen year old from the weirdo family, unpopular and bullied. No real hobbies or activities to speak of, aside from…” Vlad’s red eyes pierced down at him. “Video games, am I correct?”

Danny diverted his gaze to the floor. Vlad’s aura only increased in amusement.

“But now,” the ghost continued. “Now you’re something else. Something different, more powerful. The world is your oyster, and all you have to do is reach down and take it.”

“I don’t know,” Danny finally spoke up. He had been hoping that speaking to the older halfa would begin to patch things up between them, but so far every word out of Vlad’s mouth seemed coated in poison.

He knew that deep down he shouldn’t trust a damn word Plasmius said, but Vlad was the only person in the world who he could relate to. And according to the Vlad, there was no one else like them in the Ghost Zone either.

“What is there to be afraid of, Little Badger? You’re a half ghost, you can do whatever it is that you want and nobody, nobody can stop you.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid.” Lies, lies, all lies. “It just doesn’t seem right, is all.”

Plasmius leaned down, forcing Danny’s eyes to meet his. He grinned, bearing his fangs at the boy, as if he could see through all the fear that Danny was desperate to mask.

“Oh Daniel,” Vlad said. “Your parents will never accept you. No good you do in your ghost form could ever convince them that ghosts aren’t all evil, that some are good, that you are good. Don’t you see?”

“No, you’re wrong. My parents will accept me. I just have to—”

“Oh, will they?” Vlad laughed. “Your parents? The same ones who’ve dedicated their careers, their lives to developing ecto-weaponry meant to kill our kind? The people who have written countless academic papers as to the dangers of ecto-life on Earth?”

“If I can show them that we’re not all bad, then maybe they’ll see.”

“Ah, so I bet that explains why you haven’t told them about what really happened in the lab, right? You just wanted to wait for the ‘right time’ to tell them. Foolish boy, don’t you know?” Vlad’s cocky tone died down, as did the power of his aura. In the first moment of sincerity Danny had witnessed from the older man, he turned to Danny and warned, “Your parents are too blinded by their ignorance to ever see the truth.”

---

Danny had been alone the day of the accident. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he strapped on the hazmat suit (not before ripping off the Jack sticker), why he stepped in the portal, why he tried to figure out how to turn it on. Was it boredom? Teenage rebellion? Curiosity?

But delving into his reasoning was too little too late. Because the moment he tripped over the wire and hit the misplaced power switch, his life ended.

Literally.

Dying hurt. It was terrifying, waking up as something else entirely, and passing out all over again.

At first, he could almost pretend that he was okay. But then he woke up the next morning and felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

And then he fell through his bed, hitting the wood floor below his bed frame.

And then he dragged himself out and saw the extensive scarring on his arm.

And then he knew. That what had happened in the lab wasn’t just a fluke, that whatever the portal did had changed him forever.

That he wasn’t okay.

Still, he tried to carry on as normal. Eventually, the lightning scars snaking across his arm faded (even though they remained when he transformed), and the aching of his muscles subsided (but the coolness in his chest never went away), and his relative anonymity at his school meant that people hardly noticed a change in him (even though his two best friends seemed to hover more now than before).

Everything was going to be normal. Even if he wasn’t okay anymore. Even if he wasn’t human, even if he was...some monster.

What even was he?

“Danny?” Sam poked his shoulder. “Hey, space case? You haven’t touched your food. Are you okay?”

The world snapped into focus, and he realized that he was in the cafeteria at school with his untouched lunch tray splayed out in front of him. He couldn’t even remember getting out of bed this morning, much less making it all the way till lunch.

Regardless, he picked the cardboard excuse for pizza from his tray and took a bite, chewing slowly, and tried not to choke as he forced the food down his parched throat.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He’d been saying that a lot lately.

“We’ve been trying not to pry, but…” Sam looked helplessly at Tucker. “Danny, is...is something going on with you? You’ve just seemed off lately.”

“No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You sure dude?” Tucker asked.

Danny set his school-issued pizza back down on his tray. “Guys, seriously. I’m your best friend. If anything happened, I promise you’d be the first to know. I’ve just been stressed about school, it’s nothing.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, evidently not looking too convinced. Regardless, Sam gave him her best fake smile and a, “If you say so. Just know we’re here if you wanna talk.”

But he didn’t want to talk. They were human, he...wasn’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’d think he was a freak, they’d stop talking to him, they’d tell Jazz who would tell his parents who would kill him trying to save him.

No one could help him.

They finished lunch in silence, and then it was back to class where Danny managed to fall out of his chair twice and drop his pencil too many times to count. In biology class a glass microscope plate flew past his fingers, shattering against the tiled floor, and in English class when Lancer handed him papers to pass out he dropped those too, sending them scattered along the ground.

He saw the way Lancer peered at him as he stumbled to the ground, hands shaking as he desperately tried to grab the papers while everyone laughed at him. He felt cold—he was always cold since the accident—and he was sure that he looked just as much of a mess as he felt.

Mr. Lancer sent him down to the nurses office after that.

But he couldn’t go to the nurse because his heart rate was slower than a human’s and he didn’t need to breathe as much and he was so cold.

And he was fine.

So he took the hall pass and hid in the bathroom for the rest of the class period.

“Think of it as a rebirth,” Vlad had told him.

Except Vlad was wrong. Danny wasn’t stronger now, he wasn’t more powerful. In fact, Danny Fenton had never felt more powerless, lost, and alone in his entire life.

If this was the start of a new life, then he was terrified to see what would follow.

---

next chapter>

#danny phantom #going angst week 2021 #birth #the life cycle of a half ghost #phicc #my writing

145 notes · View notes

tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

Hello, I just saw that you opened your request. I'm the one who ended up writing a whole prompt! Imagine this for each member from La Squadra: they had an one-night stand with a random woman, she accidentally got pregnant and decided to have the baby without telling them. After a while, the woman got ill and passed away, but not without before sending her child with their father (let's imagine she has the direction of their hideout even if it's ooc, or she knew where they hang out). So, one day someone knocks the door and introduces themselves as the kid of one of the members/if it's too young, someone left them on the door with a explainatory note... How do you think each member would react by discovering that they have a child and they're supposed to take care of them from now? You can make each kid with different ages if you want, it would be funny to see Prosciutto or Ghiaccio dealing with a rebellious teenage son or Risotto trying to take care of a toddler, but I guess not all of them would want to keep their children. Sorry if it's a lot, haha.

La Squadra did a Diavolo

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Familial, SFW

A/N: your idea about mixing up the ages got me thinking, and I ended up using randomisers for the children’s ages (though I did consciously change some of them) and genders. It added a fun bit of chance to this prompt.

Formaggio, with an 8 year old daughter

The whole thing feels surreal to him. There's a little girl on his doorstep calling herself his daughter and by all evidence, it's true. He doesn't really know how to feel about it at first. On one hand it's kind of cool he had a kid all this time and you're clearly a lovely girl, but on the other hand, what the fuck? Still, not being the practical sort, his sense of sentiment far outweighs any question of how he's actually going to look after a child, so without much deliberation, Formaggio agrees to let you stay.

Formaggio isn't too experienced with kids but he doesn't exactly dislike them either, so he figures he knows what to do. At your age you can at least do the basics of looking after yourself, so he isn't too worried. The only problem is that if you ask him to cook for you or help clean your room, his eyes go very wide. He never quite picked up those skills himself, he's afraid, so you're going to have to ask someone else for that one.

The good news is that Formaggio is a very easy-going, fun sort of dad, who is a natural at playing with you and lets you do what you want when he can't be around. He quickly gets used to showing affection to you, letting you cuddle up to him on the sofa in front of the squad and even carrying you around once in a while. He gives amazing piggy back rides.

The bad news (or more good news, depending on how you are) is that you have to leave school. Risotto says that at your age you can't be trusted not to tell anyone your new family is a bunch of assassins, and taking you to and from school each day would be too much of a hassle. Nonetheless, you're welcome to continue your education from home, though Formaggio will hardly push you if you don't keep up with it. Melone is much better on that front.

Despite the risk, Formaggio can't bring himself to force you to lose all your friends, so he lets you keep meeting with them. Furthermore, he knows a few guys in other squads who have kids about your age, so he's happy to introduce you to them if you want a friend you can be more honest about your home life with. Formaggio might not have a clue what he's doing, but he's doing pretty good.

Illuso, with a 3 year old daughter

He's been fearing this day would come for years. A small child knocking on the door of the hideout, holding a note in hand addressed to him, just as a shady looking car drives away. Yeah, Illuso remembers your mother pretty well and he remembers the distinct lack of precautions they took during their encounter. Now, the consequences of his actions are here at his house, and Risotto is currently standing in the doorway of the office looking ready to give him the biggest dressing-down of his life.

After his tongue-lashing, Illuso frantically agrees to take responsibility for what he's done and see to it that you're well cared for, and begins the task of looking for relatives who might take you. Unfortunately, none of your mother's family can be traced, and Illuso can't exactly call up his own right now. Leaving you on the door of an orphanage isn't an option because you're old enough to say where you've come from, so it looks like for the time being, Illuso is stuck with you.

Initially, Illuso is not thrilled. He pawns you off on Melone, Sorbet and Gelato whenever possible and tries to live his life as before. But increasingly, he can't help finding himself visiting your room whenever he's stressed or has had a bad mission. There's something so pure about gently stroking your hair as you sleep. He can't help but feel... attachment, as he rubs his thumb against your tiny palm.

From then on, Illuso starts to make a point of spending more time with you. You're at the age where you just want to touch and explore everything you're given, so letting you make a mess with his makeup and beauty creams is an easy way for him to observe and learn about you. He even starts doing the more practical things like washing and feeding you every so often.

Eventually, Illuso becomes an actual father to you. He loves you as a father should and puts his time into making you happy. Illuso is glad he didn't give you away, as you've opened his eyes to so many things. For the first time in many years, he feels human. He feels redeemable.

Prosciutto, with a 13 year old son

As you tell him your story Prosciutto racks his brains. He didn't have many one-night-stands in his youth but the ones he did have were so far back he barely remembers them, so your mother's name doesn't immediately ring any bells. If it weren't for the striking resemblance between you, Prosciutto probably would have thrown you out for a liar there and then. But as you are, it's clear you're being honest. He lets you in.

After a short interrogation by Risotto to make certain you aren't acting on behalf of some third party looking to infiltrate the squad, it's agreed you can stay, so long as you keep quiet about it to your friends. At your age you can largely look after yourself and all you really needed was a roof over your head, so there's no problem with you moving into the spare room as long as you stay out of the others' way.

Education isn't much of an issue either, since you're likely well settled in your current school and can get yourself there and back. Just whatever you do, don't go telling anyone you live with a bunch of gangsters now. Prosciutto means it, you could seriously put yourself in danger if you do that.

Much to your father's ire, you end up befriending several members of the squad, especially the younger ones like Melone, Ghiaccio and Pesci who have some generational overlap with how you were raised. Prosciutto would rather you didn't do this but at the end of the day, he can't really stop you. God forbid you call him an old boomer again.

Your relationship is overall positive- Prosciutto makes a point of taking you on outings when he has the time, and giving you parental advice when you need it. However that doesn't stop you from making fun of his stuffy, old habits, and playing the moral high ground in regards to his work.

On that note, the problem comes when you develop an interest in the squad's work. It's only inevitable, given how pervasive the topic is in conversations around the house, and the fact you're more than old enough to know what a gang is, but the day you first ask him about it is no less welcome. What's scary is that you're about the same age as Passione's youngest recruits and, well, if you ended up joining them because of him, Prosciutto might never forgive himself.

Pesci, with a 6 month old son

He knew it had been a mistake. Not long after his 18th birthday he'd given in to the squad's pestering about his virginity and finally gotten rid of it just to shut them up. Now he's ridden with guilt. Not only did the poor woman get pregnant because of him but now she's died. He can't help but wonder, the letter attached to the basket you came in was very vague after all, was your mother's death at all related to your birth? If so, Pesci doesn't know how he'll forgive himself.

Pesci immediately panics and stumbles into his Fra's bedroom crying louder than you are. Prosciutto remains calm, advising him to first make sure this actually is his baby through Melone, in case this is somebody trying to trick him, and to then think through his options rationally. As far as Prosciutto sees it, he has two. He can either see to it that you're taken in by a caring, reliable individual, or he can keep you for himself. Surprisingly, Prosciutto's actually okay with the second one, since in his eyes duty to one's family is absolute.

Pesci stammers a bit and asks if he can wait a few days to make his mind up, which Prosciutto permits. But it isn't long at all until Pesci is far too attached to you to ever let you go, and it becomes clear you'll be staying for the long-run. Risotto is hardly happy about this but agrees with Prosciutto's sentiment of family, so he doesn't try to insist you be sent away.

Pesci is an incredibly loving father. He'll dash from the other side of the house at a moment's notice if he hears you crying. That said, being so young himself it's inevitable he requires some help with raising you. Sorbet and Gelato chip in quite regularly, as does Melone when Pesci is desperate enough to fall on using him. Prosciutto helps out too, being your uncle, and occasionally you've even had Risotto answer your cries.

La Squadra can only hope their situation improves somehow in the coming years, since Pesci has no idea how he's going to deal with an older child in a house full of assassins. At very least, being so young it's a long time before he has to worry about things like school. For now, what's important is that you are loved very dearly. Pesci has discovered a new protective streak in himself, something he discovers every time he looks in your eyes.

Melone, with a 4 year old son

When you arrived you were frightened and confused. You struggled to babble out the story you were told to tell as the strange men crowded around you in the front room of the house. Then, a bizarre looking man with purple hair pushed to the front of the crowd, insisting he knew what to do in a situation like this. He carried you somewhere quiet, and gently asked you to repeat your story again. You told him you were looking for your father, Melone.

Melone is elated. He's always wanted a child, but getting into a relationship stable enough to produce one has never been an option with the life he lives. Now the happy accident he never new he had has come home to him! Carrying you back to the living room, Melone introduces you as his son and announces to the team that he will be keeping you.

This is met with some protest. Not only are you of the age where you'll need constant supervision, but quite frankly, nobody trusts Melone to take care of a kid. Melone refutes their accusations harshly, making it absolutely clear he will not be giving you up without a fight. Finally, Risotto surrenders, on the terms that if he catches any signs of abuse or neglect, he will see to it personally that you are re-homed elsewhere.

Melone's parenting style is relatively laid-back. He believes parents should be a 'safe base' from which children should explore the world, coming back when they need advice but ultimately following their own whims within reason. He encourages you to play as you wish and does not stop you from bonding with the rest of the squad. Finding supervision for you while he's on missions proves to be a non-issue, since his stand's massive range means he can often do most of a mission's work at home.

When the time comes to educate you, Melone decides against the risks of enrolling you in school. He is an amazing teacher and can teach you everything you'd need in half the hours of a typical curriculum. Beyond the essentials of literacy and simple maths, Melone largely encourages you to follow you own interests rather than stick to some boring, arbitrary list of useless things a normal curriculum for some reason expects you to learn.

That said, he knows the importance of making friends, so he frequently takes you out to meet with neighbourhood children. All-in-all, the squad is surprised at his sensible parenting choices, and the happy child you are turning out to be.

Ghiaccio, with a 2 year old son

It's almost comedic the lengths Ghiaccio goes to to avoid the problem. As the others crowd around you in Melone's lap, Ghiaccio cowers in the corner insisting that you absolutely cannot be his. It's very obvious you are, of course. You look almost exactly like him, and have a cry to match. You've even inherited the same, mild visual impairments that earned him his glasses. There's no getting away from the truth.

After accepting the truth, Ghiaccio takes you away to his room to 'clear his head' before deciding where to send you in the morning, but when morning comes, that deliberation time quickly turns into a few more days, then a month, then never. It's clear Ghiaccio's become attached to you, and he cannot bring himself to give you away.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the foggiest clue in hell how to look after a toddler. He has a hard enough time understanding what it is adults want from him, let alone small children. There are times he even considers giving you away again, but they never last long enough for him to go through with it. Bit by bit, he slowly learns how to be a father.

Melone is his primary co-parent. As cautious as Ghiaccio is about letting him around his baby, it soon becomes clear Melone can understand your needs far better than he can. The pair have many sessions together teaching Ghiaccio how to do things like wash you or cook your food. It's honestly a massive help, and probably the main reason Ghiaccio doesn't completely melt down within a month of having you.

These issues aside, Ghiaccio is a person who is very genuine in his affections. He would break the shins of anyone who even looked at you threateningly, and every fibre of his being wants you to be happy. He even learns to control his temper, as he knows from experience just how damaging an angry parent can be for a child. He's going to give you a better childhood than what his parents gave him, and that's a promise.

Risotto, with a 6 year old daughter

Well, perhaps this ought to have been expected. In his early 20s Risotto was really far less careful than he ought to be in regards to his encounters, so he probably had this coming. You are at a difficult age, old enough to understand your father is a criminal but young enough to still need his care. If he takes you in, there will be many challenges. And yet he cannot bring himself to turn you away. Looking at you he feels... obligation.

In the early days he tries his best to shelter you. He keeps you in his room and tells the others not to talk to you. But that's no way for you to live, and he knows it. Eventually, he swallows his fears and lets you explore your new home, even taking you out to the park a few minutes each day so you can run around. He talks to Melone about continuing your education, and asks Sorbet and Gelato if they'd let the spare room next to them be turned into a bedroom for you. He's going to make sure he raises you right.

Risotto may be quiet and introverted, but do not mistake that for emotionally distant. He does not underestimate his vital role in your emotional well-being, and is quick to pick up on when you are feeling sad or lonely. He makes sure to pick you up in his arms and ask what's wrong when that happens.

Though he didn't know her well, he mourns your mother with you, and is very watchful for the signs of attachment issues that may result from losing a parent at such a tender age. Being all you have left, Risotto gains a new instinct of self-preservation. For the first time in years, his life has meaning.

In terms of bonding, he prefers calm activities that allow him to passively observe your interests, such as watching movies or reading you books. When he's working in his office and doesn't need his camera on, he's happy for you to sit in his lap as long as you're quiet. He would ask if you don't read what's on his screen, though, at least not while you're so young. He'll give you a better explanation of what he's doing some day, but not just yet.

Sorbet and Gelato, with a 12 year old daughter

First of all, let's make clear that regardless of which one is biologically your father, they both feel equal responsibility for you. No doubt they were both present for your conception anyway, so as far as they're concerned, if one of them has a secret kid from a hookup, they both have a secret kid from a hookup.

Having always wanted children, they are happy when you appear on the doorstep and introduce yourself as their daughter. Though they don't say it out loud to avoid upsetting you, they kind of wish your mum had kicked it sooner so they could have raised you from a younger age, but they're more than happy to make do with what they've got. There's no hesitation in welcoming you to live with them permanently, and anyone who has a problem with this isn't brave enough to say it.

Right from the get-go they are very permitting parents, awarding you a generous helping of their cash each week and having a rule list that pretty much starts and ends with "don't talk to the police." Despite your age they don't expect you to be independent, and are happy to cook for you and help you out with other things when you ask. It seems parenthood was made for them.

Despite all this, there is one problem in your relationship that is making things difficult. That of your fathers' work. You're 12 years old and you aren't stupid. You know they kill for a living and you know they enjoy it. When you stumble into the bathroom at 1am to find them covered in blood and laughing together, there's no making excuses. No matter how good they are with you, this is going to make you afraid of them.

Sorbet and Gelato are incredibly stringent in solving these early issues. After all these years they've finally got the family they wanted, and they aren't going to let it slip away from their own cruelty. They are honest with you about their occupation, since they want you to know you can trust them, and make absolutely clear it won't affect their care for you. You are welcome to ask questions and receive honest answers, but other than that Sorbet and Gelato will make a point of not accidentally causing you to witness something you shouldn't.

With them, you are welcome to continue your old life in terms of school and friends. They want to spend time with you, but they don't want to overtake your existence completely. When you are up for it, they are keen to take you on outings that interest you so you can spend time together as a family. They hope you know how happy you make them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone #melone x reader #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet and gelato x reader

200 notes · View notes

sdv-mostly-shane · 3 years

Text

Hello! January is birthday month for my children, and now that we got the last one down, time to get right back in ~ In the spirit of parenthood, here’s some Stardew Parent Headcannons of all the marriage candidates -

Stardew Valley Imagines : Parent Headcannons

Bachelors

Alex

The kind of dad to be at every appointment/interview/inspection and cry at every point of progress “we’re one step closer to our beautiful baby”

Will absolutely cry once he holds that baby, and will have a hard time letting them go to his partner

Baby wearing extraordinaire- has multiple options for different occasions

Matching track suits to hide the fact that they were both a hot mess that morning trying to get out the door, but they did it, so time to celebrate

Would ironically have a brainiac child that he is absolutely enamoured with and admires - he sits at their little table, spilling out of the tiny chair, but refuses to budge because his baby is telling him about the water cycle of the Earth, and he doesn’t want to miss a thing

Elliot

A very ‘hands off’ parent - will observe them at play and not pressure them in any particular way

Probably a Waldorf dad

Sits his babies in his lap every night to read- they are the first ones he tests out a new limerick on, and respects their criticisms as much as their praise

Lots of evening walks down the sea shore and the forest edge.

Out of the bachelors, I think would be the most sensitive/attune to them, and would be great at breaking down their complex emotions and thoughts, and would especially be so with any neurodivergent children.

Harvey

The type to plop down a stack of parenting and pediatric books on the dining room table as soon as you two have decided to welcome children into your lives

Is the one to show the farmer how to change a diaper

In fact, just count Harvey as the one to be the party planning, baby book filling, milestone documenting professional. He’s got it covered.

Loves the newborn stage, is terrified of toddlerhood, but then back in control once they’re like 6. And then terrified again once they are teenagers (his kids actually consider him a friend as well as a father and actually enjoy hanging out with him (sometimes))

100% a helicopter parent, but more so the ‘I love you so much I don’t want you to ever experience any pain’ type of way

Sam

Probably has an accidental love child at one point

You can find him in bed with the baby, singing songs together, while he spikes the baby’s hair nice and tall

Do you honestly think this young man would not use every dad joke ever known? Because he would- and he would find them all absolutely hilarious

The fun dad that will also actively try to embarrass his kids in front of their friends

Keeps his kids home for “sick days” to sit on the couch together, no pants, no homework, and all laughter.

Sebastian

Would be stressed when they are newborns, but relax as they get older. By the time they’re teens, he would have cultivated a very trust and respect-based relationship with them where his kids are comfortable telling him anything

You’ll find him quietly at every event, game, recital, competition, imaginable. Supporting his children with his presence and then taking them out that evening to do something fun, crazy, or maybe even a little dangerous

His most fond parenting moments are when the baby is in their bouncer right besides him, happily babbling away and smiling at him, while he does his work at the computer. Quality time is his baby love language.

The type of dad to patiently and honestly answer his children’s millions of questions about anything and everything.

Will absolutely take them out to splash in the puddles when it rains (but then will also send them straight to the bath)

Shane

Is already pretty experienced in the parenting realm, but is thrown into a whole new adventure with the newborn phase. Finds himself to truly LOVE babies and toddlers

“Hm, can’t sleep? Let’s go get a snack.” “But dad, it’s 1AM” “I do this all the time, don’t worry. Just don’t tell [parent]”

Would let his kids roam free, but only if he is supervising, and is actually kinda strict/short. Absolutely fears losing his children and will do anything and everything to make sure they grow up safe and cared for.

A very stressed daddy but only because he loves his children so much that he would die if anything happened to them

The best cuddler out of all the bachelor parents. Wanna soft spot to curl up on the couch? He’s already passed out with his head back, snoring. His nice pudgy ‘dad’ belly makes the perfect pillow to rest baby heads on while he reads a book.

Bachelorettes

Abigail

The fun parent.

The kind that wakes up early on a Saturday with their kids, just as excited as they are, to eat sugar cereal and watch a show together.

Is always down to play (especially play fight). Will (endearingly) spook their partner a bit when they rough house because Abby has that wild feral look in her eye too often

The competitive parent that gets just a liiiitle too involved in whatever sport/organization/fair/et.al that the child is partaking in-all in good fun, of course.

I can picture her taking her child out to the forest, late at night, to lay on the soft moss. She’d tell them about monsters, lore, crystals, and everything supernatural and mystic. Whispering in the dark as they point up to the stars and laugh and laugh and laugh

Emily

Hippy granola mom to a T - have you seen her “organic quinoa and fresh goat milk” quote? She’d do anything to provide the best that nature has to offer her children

While her disposition toward her children is incredibly loving and free-spirited, she would probably be very resposible and stressed about doing right for her children

Would absolutely take her children by the hand, in various states of dress (jammies? Okay. Just a diaper? Alright. Ballgown? Let’s go), out to the forest with handmade woven baskets to collect all the gifts from the Earth that they can find

Absolutely the Craft Mom - she’d be all about enrichment, sensory play, and fostering a creative spirit

Tells the best stories. After bedtime routine, will sit with her children in thrir bed, and will tell stories of magic, of love, and of adventure. Her kids, eyes bright, won’t want the night to end, because mom is showing us how much wonder and mystery is in the world

Haley

So gentle and so sweet with her kids, but can send them running with just a ‘look’

Would be a nervous wreck the first go round, but an absolute master by the time the second comes around

Helicopter parent that obsesses over every milestone, growth, and accomplishment of their child. SO proud of them and can’t wait to praise them and brag about them.

The wonder parent that can do it all while looking absolutely breathtaking. She makes it look easy once she gets the hang of it

Can’t you just picture her and her baby girl in matching flowy Daisy sundresses dresses with pink ribbons in their beautiful blonde curls, chasing after each other barefoot in the fields, while the golden grass dances in the wind- gah I love this pretty pretty princess so much.

Leah

Cool Wine mom that drives a Subaru

Would absolutely read her child to bed every night, until they fell asleep.

Her transition into motherhood was flawless. She’s a natural parent who just loves in abundance

Soooo many nature walks, hikes, and camping trips. Always accompanied with a picnic basket, quiet peacefulness, and heart to hearts about whatever is going on in their life.

The definition of free-range parenting, encouraging self discovery and independence. Yeah, she’ll always step in when needed with some kind encouragement or advice, but would much rather watch her children learn about the world on their own terms

Maru

The do-it-all parent. Signs up for activities, projects, school boards, committees, and teams. Is actually on time, prepared, and succeeds in all of these.

The most prepared and responsible out of any of the parents. Always has snacks in her diaper bag and a first aid kit

Did someone say routine/chore chart

Would show love for her children through learning and new experiences-the best part about being a parent for her is watching her child’s brain turning and working as they think about the environment in front of them. At her best, her kids think she is incredibly fun and they have a blast doing anything and everything with her

Not exactly tender/overly affectionate with her kids, but absolutely concerned about being the best mom she can be by having balance of learning, play, discipline, and love.

Penny

Literally just Miss Honey from Matilda

Pinterest mom. All the crafts, DIYs, bento boxes with cute little caterpillar grapes-you name it, she’s already done it AND packed your backpack and laid your clothes out for you.

Can be heard saying “well the pediatrician said...” “hm well that’s not what dr alberts book said to do” among other “first time mom”things

Can be incredibly anxious worrying about their child’s development and well being. She’s been around kids her entire life, but this is HER child? This one doesn’t go home at the end of the day? Everything has to be absolutely perfect

The most sentimental-would absolutely weep going through the baby box to pull out the teeny tiny booties and smelling the baby blanket - “they were just SO TINY- we need another one NOW.”

370 notes · View notes

ms-indifferwnt · 3 years

Text

I’m Cold

“I'm cold"

"And?"

"Can't you give me your jacket or something?"

"Can't you accept my proposal and marry me already?"

In which Prince Donghyuck's parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I'll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 4 of Im Cold. Sorry this one took longer, hope you guys enjoy

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

Prev / Chapter 4 / Next

Y/n sat, legs crossed by the ankles as she tries her best to avoid eye contact with the person infront of her, granted he was busy trying to sell his proposal to the Prince but the way he stared at her made Y/n uncomfortable and kept adjusting ho she sat in order to keep her mind of the man

Donghyuck noticed how uncomfortable she was, through out the conversation he had with the man across from him and Y/n he was inching closer to Y/n in order to shield her but the man would stare at any pretty thing that would pass them by and Donghyuck was absolutely disgusted, he placed a caring and affectionate hand on Y/n's knee to catch her attention and once their eyes meet he could already see how distressed she was, pulling away to unbutton his blazer and placed it on her legs

"Get out" The Prince says to the man with an obnoxious grin, his eyes serious and harsh, making the man stop and stare at the prince in shock "Didn't you hear me?"

"B-but" the man started to defend himself and the Prince sighs and crosses his arms

"If there's one thing I don't tolerate is when people like you treat women like some kind of prize, you've been doing it to every single thing that has two legs and a pulse since we got here and it's rude, doing it to my fiance is just down right disgusting, I don't tolerate that behavior in my kingdom nor in my presence so I'm going to say it again," He says in a calm tone yet it held authority "Get out, you've wasted our time enough"

Y/n watches as the man bows and leaves, "Thank you" she whispers

The Prince looks at her with a raised eyebrow and fixed his blazer that on her legs "Next time tell me" He replies calmly to soothe the girl's frightened gaze, The Prince could be scary if he wanted to and he didn't want to scare her more than she already is "I dragged you into this mess, let me protect you when you're scared"

She nods slowly "Y-you didn't have to kick him out-"

"Were you even listening to what he said?"

She shakes her head

"Me neither"

She looks at him "Sorry?"

"I stopped listening after the first sentence, I noticed he was eyeing a couple of waitresses and I noticed you were uncomfortable but you weren't saying anything, anyway, I paid more attention to you then whatever he said," He concludes and noticed she had her head down and he hums in an attempt to get her mind off it "We should eat lunch, anything you want in particular?"

"Anything is fine"

"No seriously? Seafood, Pasta, Chicken, Beef, Pork? Anything?"

"Whatever is ok, My Prince"

"Ok, next time I will not answer you if it isn't Donghyuck. Second," He cups her cheeks so she'll look at him "Right now you're my Fiance , so do me a favor and take advantage of me yeah?"

She blushes and looks down, nodding

"Words, love" he presses

"Yes, ok"

"Yes, ok, what?"

"um?" she looks up and into his eyes "Donghyuck?"

He nods "Good girl," he approves and smiles sweetly "So lunch? made up your mind yet?"

"Yes, um Seafood?"

"ooh, there's this really good restaurant Taeyong Hyung brought me too, I'll take you there"

"Just two more meetings," He informs and held her hand "And I promise I'll take you shopping"

"You really don't-" Y/n was cut off when she yelped in pain when the prince squeezed her hand, giving her a sweet yet warning smile she sighs and decided to get into character, making a mental note to scold the Prince "But- Its so boring, Please can we go now?"

Donghyuck looks at the man opposite them and smiles softly and apologetically "Love, just a little longer," she pouts and Donghyuck wanted to pinch her cheeks, granted he was the one who asked her be disagreeable so he can doesn't have to stay and attend this meeting, but he found her whining absolutely adorable that he might actually obey her if leaving was what she really wanted "ten minutes, then we go ok?"

She grins, Y/n and the Prince spoke about this while they ate lunch that he was not in the best mood after dealing with the man with an obnoxious grin and that he doesn't want to attend the meeting, so he developed a plan, managing to get the female to join his plan, "Alright"

After ten minutes as promised, the man bowed and apologized with the prince assuring him that it was alright and that they'll talk tomorrow

The Prince watched as the man leaves then beams at Y/n "life saver," he says and nods "I'll buy you anything you want" he promises and Y/n shakes her head "and before you decline, choose, you pick out something you like or I'll buy the whole store?"

She gasps and grabs his sleeve "Donghyuck!" she exclaimed in a scolding voice, like you would to a child but instead of the prince beibg offended or atleast shocked by the female's tone he grinned

"You," He looks at her happily "You called me by my name"

"No-"

"Yes you did! Say it again, come on Y/n"

"Your Highness-"

He clicks his tongue and raises his eyebrow "Come again?"

"Donghyuck"

He grins and nods "half an hour before the next meeting then shopping, ok?"

"We really don't have to"

"Well, true" He hums and orders two more hot chocolate "but its good publicity, people see me, the prince shopping with his fiance, you, and I'd get recognition and my The King and Queen would believe our love" he thanks the waiter and looks at her again, leaning in making the Prince's breath fan against hear cheek, voice quiet as he whispers "besides you need more clothes that will match with me"

"Prince Donghyuck?" A man calls from behind him and Y/n pulls away and looks to the side, a bit of pink coloring her cheeks at how they were caught

The Prince turns and smiles "Oh, you're early, please, have a seat" and the man obeyed "Can I get you anything?"

The mam shakes his head "No, thank you" His maroon suit standing out in the cafe, his whole persona made Y/n feel uneasy like something was wrong with him, she was on edge

The Prince smiles and nodded "You may start whenever you are ready"

"By putting this new building up it will give us more chance to meet with people outside of the kingdom" He proposes and then looks at the Prince for approval who had his eyebrows furrowed at the man's words

"And where are you proposing we build that?" He asks

Y/n looks at the Prince as he spoke, something about his tone was off, and Y/n doesn't like it

"There's this plot of land that would be absolutely perfect for it," He takes his phone out and shows the Prince where it was planned "This spot would surely get a lot of attention"

Y/n's breath caught on to her throat, "That is a neighborhood" she says in disbelief, "Where would those people live? Where would they go?"

Donghyuck looks at her and tilts his head "Are you seriously planning on building that in a place were people live? where they have claimed as their home?" he glares at the man "Y/n how do you know this neighborhood?"

She looks at the Prince only to see him calmly yet dangerously looking at the man, like a predator would, The Prince was furious, "My Grandparents live there" She answers

The prince scoffs in disbelief "There are people there, Mr. Choi Samin. What do you propose we do to them? where will you put them?"

"Well I didn't really-" He started and The Prince cuts him off

"That's enough," He says and waves him off "Thank you for your time, you may leave now"

"But, my Prince-" He starts

"I'm sorry I think I didn't make my self clear, I no longer have any business with you," He declares "I have no business with someone who would do anything for money, even when it means making hundreds of families loose their homes? You don't deserve speaking to me, to my fiance or my family, get out"

Y/n flinches and looks at the Prince in fear, one thing was known about the Prince is that he was happy-go-lucky, playful and absolutely flirty but if there is one thing that every single person in the palace avoids it the Prince getting angry, granted he doesn't get angry often but when he does he's intimidating.

Y/n grabs the Prince by the sleeves holding in to it when he makes a move to stand, she doesn't understand where she developed the courage to do that, but she did and the Prince stopped looking at her with a harsh glare only to see her e/c colored eyes staring at him in fear, he takes a breath to calm himself down, taking the female's hand with his other one to pull it away from his sleeve and place it down to his hand, to hold it, protectively and carefully, locking their fingers together as he looks at the man

"well?" The Prince asks, he was still angry, but he was calmer, Y/n helped calm him down, his thumb rubbing softly against Y/n's skin "Leave"

The man stands and bows, leaving the two of them in the cafe, The prince looks at Y/n "You ok? I scared you didn't I?"

She shakes her head "I'm ok, thank you" he keeps on watching her as she spoke "I'm definitely ok, thankyou for not approving the proposal, I don't know what my grandparents would have done, oh and the children there, I'm thankful you declined but you didn't have to get angry at a public pace your reputation might-"

But did any of that get through to the Prince? No. He wasn't listening, actually he stopped listening, he got sidetracked by watching her speak and the way her hand moves while she tells him truths, speaking of hand, he looks down, the two of them still have hands interlocked and the rubbing of his thumb against her skin still hasn't stopped, Donghyuck's cheeks grow warm, was this not affecting her? "Y/n, stop your rambling," he comments and stands tugging her along by the hand making her stop "I wanna give you something, come on"

I’m cold Taglist:

@staysstrays

If you wanna be added leave a comment

#HaeChan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #ROYAL AU #royaltyAU #royal!haechan #royal7dream #7Dream #7dream plus Lucas #renjun #Jeno #jaemin #chenle #jisung #prince lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck x reader

142 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Firsts

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Six: (Firsts, Sweets, Coffee Shop)

A/N: First Kisses woo! One more day, thanks for sticking with me! Word Count: 2,451

The first time Mitsuri tried to kiss Shinobu was after the second date. They had gone out to dinner and then watched the stars under a blanket with two to-go cups of hot cocoa. It had been a lot of fun.

Mitsuri had been on a couple dates before dating Shinobu, she had also read multiple books and seen many movies about romance so she knew that after the second outing seemed to be the best time to ask for a kiss.

The problem was, that as Shinobu walked her to her front door, she got cold feet and she just knew she was sweating like crazy. So instead of going in for the kiss, she panicked and did something else. She patted Shinobu on the head like a child. She didn’t know why she did that. It wasn’t like she’d never kissed someone before, but it would be her first time kissing Shinobu and she was afraid of messing it up somehow.

Horrified with herself, she stumbled over her words, apologizing profusely for the strange gesture. Thankfully Shinobu was understanding and laughed it off. Mitsuri did not kiss her that night, but that was okay she told herself, there was always next time!

The first time Shinobu had almost kissed Mitsuri, was after their fourth date. They had gone beachcombing, which eventually dissolved into just picking up whatever trash the waves brought in to toss into garbage bins.

They had lost track of time and Shinobu had developed a bit of a sunburn since her sunscreen wasn’t reapplied. Mitsuri only seemed to tan right before her eyes. She wasn’t overly envious though, it just made sense that such a bright girl would do so well in the dazzling sun.

It was still too cold to swim, but their hard work left them wishing for a bit of a chill and they kicked off their shoes and socks to wade in the salty surf. Mitsuri had splashed playfully at Shinobu, but little had she known that she had just signed a declaration of war.

They chased each other around, splashing each other until they would have looked no different if they had lost their footing and tumbled into the ocean. Mitsuri was breathless from laughing and the horizon was growing pink and orange, Shinobu felt compelled to pull her closer.

She leaned in, opening her mouth to ask for permission but instead a yelp escaped her lips. Mitsuri had bent herself so her shoulder was level with Shinobu’s hips and hoisted the smaller girl up and over her shoulder with a victorious cheer.

The attempt was thwarted, but Mitsuri was happy. Shinobu let her have her fun and they went home. There was always next time, Shinobu thought.

Next time had yet to come and it was driving them both a bit crazy. Something always came up or someone would get cold feet or was sure the other was going to make the move. What started out as something exciting became kind of a point of dread. When it finally happened, what if all that build up lead to an unsatisfying end? Filled with unfounded fear of disappointing the other, nearly a month of dating regularly went by without so much as a peck on the cheek. It was frustrating for everyone to say the least. Everyone being Kanae, some of the track team, their classmates, friends and basically anyone close enough to keep tabs on their relationship.

Little did either of them realize that today would finally be the day of the first of many kisses!

“Are you coming to my meet tonight?” Shinobu had asked Mitsuri that morning as they walked into the school.

“Of course, what kind of a question is that?” Mitsuri huffed, offended that Shinobu even felt she had to ask.

“Just making sure. You’re allowed to miss one every once in awhile you know.”

“I’ve never missed one and I’m not starting now.” Mitsuri nodded resolutely.

“Alright,” Shinobu chuckled, “see you in the bleachers then.”

“See you.”

They stared at each other a moment, a bit longingly, before turning off in different directions to their respective classrooms for the day.

“You two look kind of pathetic, you know that?”

Mitsuri jumped in her skin at the teasing voice, turning to meet not one, but three of her classmates who had apparently watched the interaction from the stairwell.

“Makio, no need to be so harsh.” Hinatsuru scolded from beside her.

“Yeah, don’t be mean, Maki-chan!” Suma whined, pulling on her sleeve.

“Wh— Were you three standing there the whole time?” Mitsuri stammered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Makio waved her off, “what matters is that you and Kochou haven’t kissed yet, right?”

Mitsuri spluttered for a second before attempting to recover. “Just because you haven’t seen us do it, doesn’t mean we haven’t! I mean, if you saw us every time we were together, that would be stalking!”

“I don’t need to see every moment you two have spent together. It was obvious enough just then. It’s like your dancing around each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It’s a wonder you two ended up together in the first place.” Makio laughed.

“Again, rude.” Hinatsuru complained. Suma nodded along with a big frown.

“I don’t need to listen to this. We’ll be late for class,” Mitsuri turned her nose up on the girls and started making her way to the classroom but Makio pulled her back.

“Hey, come on, I just wanna help you. You know I’m on the track team, Hina was on the volleyball team with you... Suma is a total nerd and only does boring stuff like calligraphy and theatre but she’s invested by proxy to us so...”

“Hey!” Suma interjected but was quickly silenced as Makio continued to speak.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, we wanna help you kiss Kochou and I have the perfect opportunity in mind!”

Mitsuri tilted her head and squinted, appraising each face before her with slight wariness.

“What doesn’t it matter to you if we kiss or not?” She asked.

“Do you wanna sit here and ask questions all day or do you want a sure fire way to kiss your girl?” Makio nearly yelled. Mitsuri nodded furiously.

“Okay good, we’re on the same page. You know the track meet tonight?”

Mitsuri nodded.

“Did you know Kochou is milliseconds away from beating the national record in the hundred meter dash?”

“No,” Mitsuri blinked, surprised, “she hadn’t told me that. That’s really awesome.”

“I know, right? So, when she breaks the record tonight, because she totally will, you should give her a congratulatory kiss!” Makio nodded, smiling confidently.

“Oh I don’t know...”

“Don’t worry Mitsuri-san, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Hinatsuru reassured. “After the event, just tell her how happy you are for her and give her a little peck. It’s easier than you think.”

“We’ll cheer you on, Kanroji-san!” Suma added.

“I, um, okay. I’ll think about it.” Mitsuri could feel her skin heat up just thinking about it.

The other three third years cheered and patted Mitsuri on the back, together they filed into their classroom and for the rest of the day, Mitsuri could only think of what it would be like to kiss Shinobu. Not that she hadn’t thought about it excessively before, but today it might actually happen!

***

Mitsuri maneuvered through the crowd as the official start of the track meet neared. She searched the bleachers for Kanae and Kanao since they were coming to watch as well. Suma and Hinatsuru tagged along with her for moral support, or so they claimed.

“Mitsuri.”

“Shinobu!”

Mitsuri skipped over to Shinobu hanging over the fence to the track.

“How was warm ups? Do you feel good?” Mitsuri asked once she met up with her.

“I feel great,” Shinobu grinned, “I have a good feeling about this one. Not even Tomioka can kill my mood.”

Before Mitsuri could speak, the booth speaker squealed to life, making everyone in the area wince and groan.

“Sorry about that everyone.” A seraphic voice soothed over the rude awakening.

“Hm? What’s Tamayo-sensei doing in the booth? That’s usually Yushirou-sensei’s job.” Shinobu wondered.

“Unfortunately your usual announcer is ill, so I will be relaying the results for you all today.” The school nurse informed, giggling a little at her own word play. “We’ll be starting soon with the field events.”

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” Shinobu bid Mitsuri farewell. “Kanae and Kanao are in the third row near the far right.”

“Thanks, see you. Good luck!” Mitsuri grinned, patting Shinobu’s hand.

“Yeah, she’ll see you all right!” Makio yelled from the track.

“What the hell are you yelling about?”

“None of your business, Ume!” Makio yelled at her disgruntled stretching partner.

“What is Makio-senpai going on about?” Shinobu asked, her brow quirked in confusion.

“Nothing I’m sure!” Mitsuri laughed nervously. “Don’t you have high jump soon?”

“You’re right, I better get going.” With one last squeeze of the hand and a loving smile, Shinobu jogged over to the center of the field where the mats were set up.

“That was close!” Suma cried, her hands placed over her frantic heart.

“Come Mitsuri-san, let’s get our seats.” Hinatsuru beckoned.

They navigated through the people and found Kanae waving at them and sat down, watching the field events unfold.

Shinobu had cleaned up rather well in her field events. She got third in the high jump but it was a new record for their school. Not a national record, but still impressive in Mitsuri’s book. Then she got second in the long jump and first in the triple jump with another school record, beating her previous record by a few centimeters.

Next were the running events. Hurdles unfortunately didn’t go her way and she got fourth. Kanae giggled from beside Mitsuri, commenting on her sister’s sourness over the loss.

Finally, the final heat for the hundred meter dash began lining up and Mitsuri felt her heart pounding in her chest. This was it.

“Hm? Mitsuri-chan, are you feeling alright? You look ill.” Kanae spoke up after catching Mitsuri trembling.

“I’m okay!” She squeaked.

“Worried about Shinobu? It’s okay, she’ll do just fine. She’ll shake it out.” Kanae smiled. “Right, Kanao?”

Kanao nodded, her eyes not leaving the track.

Hinatsuru pulled Mitsuri close to whisper in her ear.

“Even if she doesn’t beat the record, I think a kiss would make her feel better anyway, no?” She winked.

Mitsuri gulped, a bead of sweat ran down her cheek as she gave her a shaky smile and single nod before turning her attention back to Shinobu, looking oh so determined and beautiful as ever.

Mitsuri tightened her hands into fists on her lap, waiting for the race to start with a pop. It would be over in a matter of seconds. Suddenly the nerves in her stomach became a rush of adrenaline.

The gun sounded, and as the girls on the track broke into their sprints, Mitsuri shot out of her seat, startling those around her as she pounded down the bleachers and followed the fence line.

“Where is she going?” Kanae asked.

“Oh dear,” Hinatsuru chuckled.

“Wait, is she going for it right now? I thought the plan was after the meet?” Suma screeched.

“I guess we didn’t make that point clear enough...”

“I’m lost, what is Mitsuri doing?” Kanae asked again.

“Uh,” Suma blushed, “she’s going to, um, well,” she pressed the tips of her two index fingers together and looked away bashfully, “kiss your sister?”

“Oh,” Kanae blinked, “well good for them!” She clapped.

Mitsuri kept running alongside the fence watching with excitement as Shinobu cleared the finish line well before her competitors.

“Kochou Shinobu wins by a noticeable margin.” Tamayo stated over the intercom, “That might not only be a new record for the academy, but also on the national level. Well done Kochou-san.”

Mitsuri pushed herself up over the fence, running the last of the distance to Shinobu on the track behind the group of winded girls.

“Oh? A non competitor has appeared to enter the track. They are running quite hard. I hope they don’t hurt themself.” Tamayo reported.

The runners all looked to each other, breathing heavily, before turning to look behind them. None more surprised than Shinobu to see who was coming down the track.

“Mitsuri?” Shinobu questioned, trying to concentrate on regulation her breathing.

“Shinobu!” Mitsuri cheered in return, wrapping the sprinter up in her arms. “Con—“ she took a deep breath, “congratulations!” She wheezed.

“Thank you,” Shinobu laughed, not nearly as breathless as Mitsuri, “you didn’t need to run all the way down—“

Soft, hot lips smushed into Shinobu’s and she stumbled back a bit at the force. Just as quickly as it started Mitsuri pulled back, an apology already forming on her tongue.

If only she could get the words out beyond stuttered, breathless nonsense. Shinobu didn’t seem to mind though, she pulled Mitsuri back down and returned the kiss with vigor and Mitsuri’s heart soared. It was like they were in their own little world.

Except they weren’t.

“I believe that’s a first... Um, girls? That’s very sweet, but we do have to get through relays still.” Tamayo called over the loudspeaker, startling the girls apart.

“Sorry!” They called out in unison.

They jogged off to the sidelines and upon noticing all the eyes still on them, Shinobu pulled Mitsuri further out of the way so they could have a moment of privacy.

“Was that okay?” Mitsuri asked, finally finding her words. “It was really sudden, wasn’t it? I should have asked first, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Shinobu promised, still holding Mitsuri’s hand, “I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now. Next time let’s try to have a private moment to ourselves though, alright?” Shinobu blushed, no doubt thinking of all the people who had witnessed their display of overt affection.

“...like right now?” Mitsuri asked shyly, looking around the the empty corner they found themselves in.

Shinobu looked around as well, ears burning. “Yeah... now is good.”

***

Shinobu ran back to the track and vaulted over the fence, coach Tomioka gave her a deadpanned look.

“What? I made it back, didn’t I?” She said as she ran by, making it to her relay team just in time.

“Get it all out of your system, Kochou?” Makio teased.

“I don’t know what you mean, Senpai.” Shinobu responded cooly, as she started jogging to her position on the track.

“Sure you don’t. You have sparkly lip gloss smeared across your cheek by the way.”

Makio, Ozaki, and Makomo giggled and guffawed as Shinobu wiped at her face.

#shinomitsuweek2021 #shinomitsu #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer #kny #au

60 notes · View notes

captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Two

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 2 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this chapter: brief reference/hint to past sexual assault.

Word Count: 7,500+

A/N: Thank you so much for your excitement about this series! I always smile when I read your comments. Sorry for such a long chapter, but it’s only ten parts and I gotta fit all somewhere lol

Unknown Location, 2015, 10:46pm

The tightness of the rope wrapped around your wrists was excruciating, each movement causing it to rub against the already damaged skin, leaving more angry, red marks. You whipped your head back and forth, anger and fear coursing through your veins as you stared your father down. You watched as he carefully maneuvered his way around the room, every back straightening as he walked past them, every gun cocked and pointed right at you. Your nose twitched up as he walked closer, inspecting the ropes tying your feet to the chair and so on. You accumulated all the spit you could and aimed it for his face, pride washing over you as it hit him perfectly. But as quickly as that pride built, it shattered, a stinging sensation on your cheek now overpowering any other sense.

“You cost me ten million.”

You bit back a laugh, careful not to let it slip as you did not want another beating. “I did what I had to do. You would have done the same!”

“Don’t tell me what I would have done!”

You flinched inwardly, your face still blushing with growing madness. If only you could loosen these bonds…

“You will know to not mess up again.”

And as your father left the room, the men lined up against the wall finally let their shoulders fall forward, their once blank faces now donning sadistic smiles.

The Compound, 2018, 2:07am

You sat up from your mound of pillows, kicking them to the side as well as the heavy blanket. Your ears rang impossibly loud, and it wasn’t until your feet touched your bedroom floor that you could hear yourself screaming. Your body was drenched in sweat, sliding easily on your wood floor as you kicked to escape the blanket.

Sharp knocks against your door startled you, sudden ‘please, don’t!’’s escaping your mouth. Hyperventilating was always tiring, you thought, and the air was now super cold as you sucked it into your lungs.

“Doll, please? I’m coming in.”

The light from the hallway blinded you so you lifted your arm up as a temporary shield.

“No, no! I’m good… I didn’t lose it. Please, trust me!”

“Y/N…”

You lowered your arm and stared at your nighttime intruder, instincts kicking in upon settling your teary eyes on him and causing you to groan in displeasure.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Y/N.”

“I said don’t look at me.”

Steve sighed in defeat and walked back to your door. You thought he was going to simply leave you be, letting you ride out this panic attack alone like all the others. But he shut the door and made his way over to your couch on the other side of the room, plopping himself down and leaning his sleepy head in his right hand. It had been six months since the world literally fell apart, an unknown feeling of terror that simply sat at the pit of stomachs eating away at whatever sanity its host still had, plaguing the world. Tiredness was second nature, never actually reducing its power no matter how much sleep one got. But leaving you here to suffer each individual thread being pulled from your remaining sanity, alone, wasn’t an option.

“Why are you staying?”

“I have nightmares, too. You aren’t that special.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now massaging your aching chest. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Y/N, you were screaming for help.”

“I scream for a lot of things.”

You figured Steve would succumb to his growing annoyance, but he stayed patient.

“Was it about…?”

You sighed and pulled yourself up to your feet, knees wobbly and thighs alerting you of the droplets of sweat that beaded down your legs. “No. I don’t dream about the snap.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You let out a rather angry sigh. You were now rubbing your eyes, cleaning them of the accumulation of hard mucus. “I seriously don’t want to talk about this particular incident.”

Steve huffed through his nose and you were ready to pounce on him to tear that beard from his face, but stopped when you saw his small smile and genuine empathy in his eyes. “Okay, I won’t push you.”

You just stared at him, eyes wide and confused. But you nodded slowly, eyes now diverting to the blanket below you.

“I’m just so fucking happy the snap took my father.”

Steve’s lifted his head quickly by your abrupt confession, eyebrows furrowed and lips frozen, as if wrapped around a lost word he couldn’t verbally address. He understood, but it shocked him nonetheless.

He ignored it, or at least chose to avoid an immediate discussion about it, and stood from your couch.

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wanted to throw him out. Him being across the room and near the wall was starting to trigger more flashbacks.

It’s Steve. It’s just Steve.

“Can you stay?”

Steve stumbled slightly in his step, clearly uncomfortable with your request. But he was a good man and when one of his teammates needed help, he would do whatever he could. And you were one of the only teammates he had left.

“Okay,” he said. But as he made his way back to the couch and away from you, sudden racks of itchiness stretched from your wrists to the middle of your chest. You stumbled from the bed, arms extended outward as if you were still shielding yourself from some incoming attack.

“No, no! Just…”

Steve watched your movements carefully, trying to discern between fear or awkwardness. He sighed and let you see his hands, turning them over in the air.

“It’s me. Tell me where you want me.”

You were in control. Just tell him where you want him.

“I’ll lay here,” you started, getting back into the right side of the bed and pulling the covers up to your hips. “You there, but upside down.”

Steve chuckled and followed your commands. You watched him walk, feeling the dip of your mattress as his heavy body lay down. You were grateful when his sock-covered feet touched your left side pillow, his chuckles gaining volume as he tried to get comfortable.

“Do I at least get a blanket?”

“Oh!” you leapt from the bed and to the closet. He listened to your soft pitter-patter as you shuffled across the cold floor, shutting his eyes to relish in the childish melody. You passed Steve two heavy blankets, mindful of the cold weather outside. Then you climbed back into bed, passing Steve a few pillows, and snuggling back into your own.

A few shifts of the blankets made you open your eyes again. Steve was not as stiff as you expected him to be - almost like he wanted to help you - and you mentally slapped yourself remembering that he would do this for Bucky.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You took solace in the fact that he couldn’t see the tiny grin on your face. “Thank you.”

Steve smiled up at the ceiling, thankful that he could still help others even when he himself was falling apart. “You’re welcome.”

Present Day, 2025, 9:45am

If anyone were to truly study Steve, they would see he was starting to act his age. He enjoyed fluffy socks, tea instead of coffee, sketching in the secluded garden of the new compound - anything a man pushing a hundred would truly enjoy. And he found himself shaving less, watching every new movie released regardless of genre, and eating much more oatmeal than usual. He remembers how whenever Bucky had saved up just enough for them to splurge on items they never usually indulged in, oatmeal would always be his go to. It was still a common ‘peasant’ meal for the two young bachelors, but Bucky would heat it up with fresh milk he had bought that morning, added the fresh strawberries and dates that were in season, and sprinkled brown sugar - damn, Steve loved brown sugar - on top. Bucky would place the bowl in front of Steve, ignoring Steve’s constant blabbering about ‘Buck, we can’t afford this’, or ‘you don’t need to spend your hard-earned money on me, you jerk’. But he would quickly shut up once Bucky’s perfected oatmeal recipe landed on his eager tongue and filled his happy stomach. Regardless of those past memories of young roommates searching for loose change in their couch and more recent ones of two reunited best friends sharing looks of awe whenever they saw how much milk and brown sugar now costs, Steve was certain the old man in him was just barely emerging.

He definitely didn’t skip the irritated attitude phase every old man seemed to develop as the years passed, his resting facial expressions and movements starting to match those of his best friend. Grumpy, tired all the time regardless of the serum, and asking each other instead of the modern people around them how to work their phones. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed, or go on a jog, or watch a movie - anything - rather than having to give a briefing about something he hadn’t had to think about for seven years. And although he had the chance to use the stones before and didn’t, Steve couldn’t quite help wishing that he was transported back to his and Bucky’s old and crumbling apartment, fighting over that one knitted blanket Bucky had bought for the both of them with his last dime.

You seemed happier with your whole family situation after the snap, but he never wanted to ask. Whether you were putting on a brave face for him, he was rid of it momentarily only to be pushed into the chaos all over again. But this time was different because you were finally going to end it all. Finish what you had started all those years ago - then maybe Steve could take that afternoon nap he wanted.

“Talk to me. How are we doing this?”

Fury pulled up a screen with all the photos and biographies, essentially a powerpoint prepared by both you and Steve.

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me, sir. But I know my family and their schemes better than anyone,” you said. Fury knew this was true and the plan would ultimately be mapped out by you. His input was always welcome, but you knew the small details - their personalities, their weaknesses, their strengths, even the way they took their coffee. You even knew which of them sampled their product before sending it off on a cross-country road trip.

Steve stood beside the monitor, using this finger to change the screen. “So, we’re looking for our physical proof. A paper trail detailing land and their product, contacts, storage units, aliases - the works.”

You nodded at Fury and your teammates. “Exactly. The hardest things to obtain will most definitely be evidence about my father’s involvement. Proof he gave the orders and profited from them.”

“Your word isn’t enough?” Sam asked.

“No, not unless I throw myself under the bus as well. It’s his word against mine unless I can prove these things were all his doing,” you responded, taking a sip from your water.

The only other people in the briefing room besides Steve and Fury were Sam, Bucky and Scott. Everyone else would get a brief overview later on this week, but these three were specifically chosen by Fury to help aid you in the actual physical fight.

“The wedding is the perfect distraction,” Scott spoke. “Almost like this was made for a heist.”

Steve released a heavy sigh, his patience already wearing thin. “Not a heist.”

“Close enough,” Scott shrugged, gaining a grin from you across the table. He smiled at your reaction and sent you a wink.

“Agent, we have to go over the basics and any new information you can provide,” Fury encouraged.

You motioned toward Steve to bring up the photos on the monitor, “Let’s start with the basics.”

Steve took over for the first portion of your presentation. You didn’t mind - in fact, the more control he had in this would certainly help ease his mind and you definitely did not want a stressed out Steve Rogers accompanying you on a twelve hour road trip.

“Ernesto Vega, father of Y/N Y/L/N, born 1950 in Guadalajara, Mexico, but because of the snap, the 80 year old is still only 75.”

“Damn, your father is old!”

You laughed at Sam’s outburst, “Yup, and I got like ten half-siblings.”

Sam sat up straighter, “No way?”

“Way.”

“Daniel Seda,” Steve continued, his voice louder. “Vega’s second in command, born 1970, currently 55 years old. Took over as top commander after the snap, and according to Y/N he didn’t take it well when everyone was brought back.”

“Hmm, threatened to put another bullet in me,” you teased, pointing at your stomach where the scar underneath your shirt had already long healed. You could have sworn you heard Steve’s breath hitch, but even if it did, he had quickly covered it by swiping the monitor.

“But her father saw this as proof of loyalty. Because no matter how much he knows Y/N hates him, she still brought him back.”

You lifted your shoulders, arms in the air as if imitating the nonverbal form of ‘oh, well!’, and your thin smile caused your cheeks to pop out comically.

“So, Seda hates you?” Bucky asked, chuckles still vibrating in his chest from your previous childish movements.

You brushed your hand through the air, “Not the first man to hate me and not the last.”

Steve snickered. You could say that again.

“The wedding will be held at Vega’s personal and private ten-acre ranch in Northern California-”

“A lovely fall wedding!”

Steve bit his tongue, eyes never leaving the monitor. “Sure… and it’s perfect. He’s wanted and he’s going to be on U.S soil.”

You stood from your chair and grabbed the electronic marker from the desk. You circled the main points of entry plus the directions of secret exits hoping to emphasize the ‘private’ part of Steve’s statement. “And since it’s his most private getaway and no one would suspect he would hide important shit on said U.S soil, I’m about ninety-eight percent sure our proof is there.”

You pulled up the blueprints and marked a giant ‘X’ on the farthest corner room in the west end. It was your father’s office.

“Ninety-eight?” Sam asked, reviewing the printed blueprints himself.

You twirled the marker between your fingers, “My dad is clever. My other two percent is telling me there’s no evidence at all.”

Scott clutched his chest in relief, “Okay, at least one outweighs the other.”

You shared another laugh with the ‘regular-sized man’.

Steve continued listing the basics, all while Fury sat toward the edge of the long table reviewing the screen. “The other two big names in the drug game are Omar Ramirez and Marcus White. Ramirez runs most things from Mexico City to San Antonio, Texas and he’s probably the least evil of them all. White runs Europe, specifically Germany and England.”

You interjected, “Ramirez focuses on the product. He orders his men to focus on the business instead of the outside world - meaning, no unnecessary kills, no violence toward women and children, no killing cops or citizens. Just producing and transporting.”

Almost forgetting he was there, Fury’s voice somewhat startled you. “Vega has lost men to Ramirez, men who wanted a change in scenery.”

You nodded in confirmation, “They aren’t necessarily enemies but they’re no besties either.”

Sam rolled the blueprints back up and handed them to Bucky. “So, we’re taking them all down?”

“The big three. Plus Seda,” Steve declared, finally taking his first sip of water in what felt like forever. If he didn’t want anyone to know he was nervous about this mission, he was for sure failing.

You hummed, “Vega and Seda are also the only ones who know of Steve’s involvement.”

“How’d that happen?” Bucky asked.

“Because Steve only ‘transports’ my father’s product. Not the others. Steve’s role is essentially to green light the passages and is my main pull,” you clarified.

It was true - Steve didn’t do or touch anything. And you thought this best considering he was America’s golden boy - you couldn’t possibly bear real involvement from him. This wasn’t his world and never should have been but it was yours.

You dealt with people directly. You took out the snitches. You handled the product during inspections. You did it all - and not because you thought Steve was some fragile soul who couldn’t achieve the same results - but because you brought him into that mess during a time in his life when he definitely didn’t need it.

“But how did it happen?”

You shrugged, hoping your answer would suffice for the rest of the group as it never does for Steve. “When I first started out as a field agent, my father didn’t trust I was doing it for him. The more I promoted, the more suspicious he got. It wasn’t until we exposed SHIELD as half-HYDRA that he was done with me.”

Fury interjected once again, “So, Y/L/N here had to pull rank out of her ass.”

You snorted, “Thanks, Fury. That sounded nice.”

“I told them that I had the literal symbol of America by my side. That defeating HYDRA was only to get his friend back, not to save the world. Plus, I told them that HYDRA was targeting all of them. And once I could get proof - a forged recording made by Fury before he went into hiding - well, it was like the greatest example of submission.”

“Why didn’t you say Tony?”

That certainly was a question Steve always had and wanted answered. God, he really hoped you had said Tony.

“Because I got the literal symbol of America as a partner-in-crime. My father almost told me he loved me... almost.”

You sat back down in your chair, a tiny puff of air escaping your lips. “And that made Seda furious. I may hate my father, but Seda is the main threat to blowing this whole operation.”

If anything, you wanted your father deader than dirt, silenced by the one child he always regretted bringing into the world. He had tortured you in more ways than you thought possible.

“Now, I thought my dad was bad.”

You fell back onto the couch before retrieving your cup of coffee you had placed on the table. Nebula gave you a tiny chuckle in return.

“Yes, mine has eradicated half the universe. I win ‘worst father’.”

You sipped your coffee, trying and failing to block out the banter between Rocket and Tony as they discussed the location of the space stone. “You know, I wouldn’t have put it past him.”

Nebula chewed her dinner slowly, listening to you ramble on about anything that popped into your mind. She knew this was your coping mechanism - to just keep talking until someone shut you up. But she enjoyed it, really, because you spoke of topics that she didn’t quite understand or know about. She learned something new everyday simply by listening to you.

“I should have thanked Thanos for dusting his ass, though.”

Nebula stopped mid-chew, blank expression but the hint of a twitch in her lip visible.

“I’m joking.”

You had asked her once why Thanos had spared her and Tony when he snapped his fingers. But Nebula had no rational answer, only responding that he must have spared her out of last minute pity and Tony to live through the consequences. And the tiny voice inside your head knocked again, reminding you that ‘maybe this snap was overall a good thing - your father can’t hurt you anymore!’, but you shut it up as quickly as it came.

“So, how many planets are there in the universe, really?”

Fury began piling files in one folder, making sure to hand out the sheet with names and contact numbers of agents stationed close to the venue and your chosen hotel.

“We’ll get into mission specifics at a later date once Rogers and Y/L/N are settled and scope out the place. For now, study up on your targets and perfect your acting skills.”

You assumed you would only need one big suitcase for the trip, only packing essentials and extra shirts just in case. You rolled your clothes tightly, securing your signature perfume and some jewelry inside some sweaters. You hid identifiable items in the small compartments - your passport, journal, old SHIELD tag, driver’s license, etc. It was the paranoid side of you taking over, the possibility of having your cover blown likely and frightening. The amount of times you had ventured into the general vicinity of your father and his crew always proved safer than you expected. But there could always be that day he simply didn’t want you around anymore.

So, you prepared in the smallest and even cringiest ways possible - resorting to drafting letters for those you wanted to remember you after you had been taken out. You paused your packing to grab your spare journal. You spent a good hour writing. A letter to Wanda, to Bucky, to Peter, to Rhodey, to Sam. Some were shorter than others - others extending to over two pages. But your mind was racing with things you hoped they would never have to read, scattered thoughts and only hints of identifiable wit penned on paper.

You tucked the letters behind the fabric you had recently ripped open. You planned on duct-taping the rip, your eyes drifting back over to your journal. You tapped your foot rapidly for a few seconds, fingers twisting in anticipation, mind still clear enough to draft one more. You quickly picked the pen right back up, sitting on the edge of your bed and starting the letter you might regret later. But at that moment, with the horrible prospect of dying on this mission, you wrote.

‘Steve,

Believe when I say that I was so sure I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…’

You wrote and wrote until your handwriting grew sloppy at the edge of the paper, and signed it. You tucked the final letter into the hole and taped it shut. You really hoped you would be able to survive and burn those written words later.

A soft knock sounded from across the room and your bedroom door opened to reveal Steve, light blue dress shirt tucked into his jeans like the old man he truly was. You couldn’t help but grin at that, cursing your involuntary actions for this man.

“Hey.”

“You doing okay?” you asked, continuing to fold clothing into your suitcase. He leaned against your door, hesitant. Steve often wondered why and how he could go days, weeks - one time even a whole month - without speaking to or seeing you. He was an expert at one word answers by now, opting to always have someone else around whenever he seriously had to carry a conversation with you. But what struck him the most was that you didn’t seem to care anymore. He witnessed the change - hell, he was the one that caused it - but it was a change that he both wanted and didn’t. How was it so easy for you?

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he responded and walked over to your couch to sit.

You cleared your throat, hoping to make this conversation the least awkward you could. “Because this was literally sprung on both of us after almost ten years of waiting.”

“I’m okay.”

You accepted his answer. He looked comfortable enough, shoulders relaxed and genuinely interested. There was a part of you that wanted to rush over and shake him, yell at him for being so clueless and fake at the same time. There was no possible way he was fully okay with everything - he hadn’t been himself since the snap, and when Natasha and Tony died, he was someone else entirely. You had brought it up with Bucky several times, but he assured you that Steve was just dealing with things his own way. That he was still a man out of time, they both were, and battle after battle could take its toll. And Bucky would hype their therapist up, that they were the reason he and Steve are able to walk in public without that constant voice warning of danger in the back of their heads, and that you should schedule a visit sometime. You always declined, asking him to call you if he truly needed another person to talk to. He would smile, taking you up on your offer whenever a day was particularly triggering.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was sixteen. Ten years really just flew by… considering.”

Steve nodded, “Is there anything I should know?”

You hummed, “If you mean things about my family, then I’ll just tell you on the way there or at the hotel.”

He chuckled and stood to lean against your bedpost. “No, I mean like, what should I pack just in case?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at such an innocent question, “Um, comfy socks. It’s pretty cold in California in the winter. Gas money, it’s pretty fucking expensive, too.”

He smiled, “Good to know.”

The two of you packed in silence for several minutes. Steve helped you roll your clothes and gather your toiletries, even asking you if you wanted to bring your current toothbrush or the new one in your bottom drawer.

You knew you shouldn’t have spoken about the topic burning in your throat, but you felt like you had to say something. If you mentioned it during the mission, you risked a larger argument than the one you would get now. So you formulated your next sentence carefully, already bracing for impact as it slipped.

“Look, the elephant in the room should be addressed. Once my father’s dealt with, I have no reason to stay here.”

Steve clipped the belt over the top of your clothes, securing the items tightly. He seemed disoriented, your sudden proclamation startling him. “What do you mean? You did the work, you trained, you helped us literally save the world.”

You shrugged and kept your voice light, “Yeah, but I started this gig when I was sixteen. I didn’t join the Avengers until I was freshly in my twenties. I’ve literally known nothing else but fighting.”

Steve sat at the edge of your bed, furrowed eyebrows and all as he chose his next words. He felt both angry and sad, a mixture of feelings that he never quite grew accustomed to whenever he was around you. They ate away at him slowly, creeping into his brain to wrap around his common sense, his sense of self, the man he was before the snap.

“Are you saying you just need a break?”

“I think,” you shrugged, zipping the suitcase and tugging its weight off your bed and onto the floor.

“What about Wanda and Bucky?”

You scrunched your face in amused confusion, a playful smile resting on your lips, “I’m not falling off the face of the Earth, Steve. I’ll visit or something.”

“Or something.”

He stood and walked back to your couch, restless and even more stressed than he was before he entered your room.

“Steve, we lost so much. It’s been two years since we brought everyone back, but… it took its toll.”

He snapped his head up, “You don’t need to tell me about shit taking its toll.”

You felt like you stared at him for several minutes, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach and traveling up your throat. That familiar lump constricting your airway as you forced yourself to swallow it and the forming tears. And once again, your mouth spoke before your mind could approve.

“Why didn’t you use the stones for yourself?”

Steve sat, shocked into silence temporarily. “What?”

“When you and Carol put the stones back - why didn’t you stay somewhere you really wanted to be?”

You remember watching him step onto the platform holding the briefcase of infinity stones and holding Mjollnir, - because of fucking course he could wield Mjollnir, he was a good man even if you were on his bad side - simply minding his own business and waiting for Carol to join him. You remember thinking he would return with a different story, only after he got some of that life Tony had always encouraged him to find, that he would go back to Peggy and live the life he always wanted. But as quickly as they disappeared into thousands of timelines did they reappear, Carol joyful and content while Steve trailed behind her. Your heart had pounded erratically, Bucky looking at you with wide eyes because yes, I thought he would do exactly what you were thinking, too.

“None of your business.”

“I’m not trying to pry-” you reasoned, but Steve stepped toward you with flushed cheeks and a cracked voice.

“But all you do is pry, pry, pry. God, do you ever just shut up?”

All you could hear behind the ringing of your ears were Steve’s quick breaths, slowing as each second passed and he realized what he had said. A moment of weakness, in his opinion, but still uncalled for.

“Pack some snacks for the road and get out of my room.”

Steve straightened his back, eyes practically yelling for you to look at him again, pleading for you to see the remorse swimming in them. But you just tugged your suitcase to the corner of your room, ignoring him completely. “Gladly.”

You and Steve were mature enough to keep your arguments at least a hundred miles away from any mission you were conducting or when around your friends. A quick quarrel in the morning was basically nonexistent a few hours later when the whole group suggested a board game or movie night. Although this impromptu road trip would be the slightest bit awkward, you two were smart enough to not compromise the mission.

And you had to drive as flying and airport security was too risky, especially with the amount of weapons attached to your body and in the trunk of that rented car.

“Call us when you hit the first checkpoint. After that, we’ll be monitoring your hotel check-in and any new ones, police reports filed throughout that week, anything that directly involves your stay,” Bucky said, handing you a burner phone.

You stepped forward to hug him. “Thank you, Bucky.”

He gave you a tight squeeze, releasing you slightly to whisper in your ear. “Try not to kill him for the next twelve hours, will ya?”

You pulled away and gave him your best grin, bumping your bracelet with his. “You know I can’t promise that, Bucky.”

He rolled his eyes, “You kill him, I kill you.”

“Ugh, don’t tease me.” Bucky almost burst out laughing from the fake, pornographic moan you let out because of his threat.

“No, but seriously - just… lay low, trust each other, and we’ll be there in the next few days.”

You slid the burner into your sweater pocket and patted it, checking if it was secure. You waved goodbye to Bucky and pulled the passenger door open. You blew him a kiss, red lipstick now on your fingers. “Can’t wait to see you!”

Bucky stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, an embarrassed but happy smile on his face. He caught the floating kiss mid-air. “Already miss you!”

“Stop, I’m blushing!” you teased, your left hand resting palm up on your forehead in an exaggerated manner.

“Go!”

You obliged, falling into the passenger seat and clicking your seatbelt.

Twenty minutes into the drive and Steve finally decided to speak.

“So, you and Bucky?”

You giggled, thumbs currently flying over your phone screen as you tried to beat your high score in some awful video game you discovered last week. “Yup, I got him wrapped around my finger.”

Steve’s hand fidgeted on the steering wheel, “Seriously?”

You closed out your video game, “No, Steve. It’s mindless flirting. He’s one of my best friends.”

“Ahh…” he nodded in understanding, a lazy smile resting on his face. He focused on both the road and you, your head leaning against the foggy window. “About earlier-”

“Don’t mention it,” you interrupted. The second you peaked through your heavy eyelids did you lock eyes with Steve, regret visible in them.

He continued, “I blew up at you and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Cool, you’re forgiven.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned quietly, but you weren’t getting angry. You were just tired from the day already and having to sit for twelve hours straight wasn’t going to help. So, you took the high road. “Look, it’s a twelve hour drive until our first stop. Let’s forget about it or else I promise you, I will jump out of this car when you push eighty.”

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest due to your absurd promise, but he accepted your answer.

“...Okay.”

By hour two, there was a restlessness between the both of you. No matter how much you extended your leg, the cramping wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times Steve would twist his neck to the side to get it to crack, it would just tighten again. So, against protocol but still on your best behavior, you and Steve made a couple stops along the way.

The first was a burger joint in the middle of buttfuck Ohio, you had commented, earning a choking sound from Steve as he tried to contain his laughter. It was a hole in the wall type of place, perfect for lying low and out of sight, and you had enjoyed your meal in the car. You listened to Steve’s playlist on low volume, stealing each other’s fries to simply piss the other off, and hit the road after your meal.

The second stop was around hour eight, and the sun was already starting to set. You desperately needed to use the bathroom and once you saw a tiny town that ‘looks so much like the town in Gilmore Girls!’, Steve pulled over and parked in a diner parking lot. Donning caps and ordering a coffee and a tea to go to seem less suspicious, you hurried from the diner and back to your car. You stopped dead in your tracks, eyeing a gazebo with a black miniature fence around it. You begged Steve to snap a photo, promising that this would be the only favor you ask of him for the next few hours, and went to hitch one leg over the metal fence. You settled yourself on top, hands gripping the railing and trying not to fall. You started to laugh uncontrollably as the fence started hurting your bottom, begging Steve to snap the photo quicker.

‘Take the damn picture, you big oaf!’

‘Well, then hold still!’

‘It’s hurting my ass!’

‘Smile!’

The third stop was the final one, somewhere in Iowa and deep in the forest. You complained about how Fury warned you of motels, that you would have to seek shelter elsewhere to avoid being recognized. You could easily blend in, but the mountain of muscle beside you would blow your cover. And you wanted to arrive in California undetected by the media.

Steve drove the car into a dark and secluded part of the forest, ground that seemed used by campers often and had an emergency phone and landline nearby. It was secret enough, so you parked the car and retrieved the blankets from the trunk.

“You taking the back?” Steve asked, jumping back into the car and rubbing his hands together because of the chilly weather. His face was flushed from just a few seconds out in the cool breeze, nose frozen and the tip red. He looked younger, you thought, somewhat resembling those renditions of Greeks in renaissance art.

“You’ve been driving all day. You should stretch your legs,” you answered, already wrapping the blanket up to your shoulders and securing it around your neck.

“You sure? We can alternate.”

You smiled, already feeling the effects of the warmth on your tired body, “I’m sure, Steve. Get some rest and I’ll drive in the morning.”

Steve exited the car after turning it off - sucks that you had to save the gas - and hopped into the backseat. He kicked off his shoes and lay across the connected seat, facing you. He could see the outline of your nose as you tilted your head slightly to the side, the blanket wrapped around your neck and hiding the real length of your hair. It resembled a bob cut by how half of it was hidden, and Steve thought that hairstyle would suit you.

Your personal phone rang, cutting through the comfortable silence and startling the both of you. You fumbled it in your hand and looked back at Steve, face falling as you showed him the name.

Seda.

“Answer it on the third ring.”

You did as Steve told you, answering the phone on the third ring and preparing your voice. He scrambled for the tape recorder, pressing ‘play’ as soon as he could.

“You rarely call me. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you answered.

His voice sounded hoarse over the phone, almost like he had just finished smoking a pack of cigarettes. “Are you attending?”

“My dear sister is getting married, Seda. Of course I’m going to embarrass her.”

He paused for a few moments, sounding like he was directing the people around him to finish something. But he responded to your answer in a serious tone. “I hope you’re being your usual sarcastic self and aren’t serious.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed at the phone, and Steve’s lips spread into a smile. “You’ve known me long enough to know, I hope.”

“Sadly.”

“I’m hurt,” you joked, voice still light and cheerful. Seda paused on the line again, the sound of papers rustling letting you know the line was still active.

“I need to know if the Captain is attending too.”

“He was invited,” you responded, laughing a little at the fact that Seda hadn’t known this information you were sure the rest of your family knew.

He chuckled, a slight whistle sound letting you know he was smoking another cigarette. “Mm, guess your family is finally meeting your lover, huh?”

The air in your mouth didn’t make it down to your lungs and you looked at Steve with equally wide eyes. But you didn’t stay fazed for long, responding to such an accusation with ease. “My lover, yes. I’m so damn giddy about that.”

Seda hummed in satisfaction, “Your father always told you to not get involved with the product. Scrambles your brains from thinking straight. But he applauds you on this one.”

You put a finger in your mouth and mimicked gagging, causing Steve to cover his mouth to muffle his laugh. “I’ve never mentioned the Captain as my lover before. Why is my father always right?”

You knew exactly what to say. The more backhanded praise you gave your father only fed into the truth and lies everyone knew - truth being you hated your father because of his power and the lie being that you were just as power hungry as him. As long everyone assumed you wanted this power, the more you had to act like you hated your father’s.

“He knows more than he lets on. You know that.”

“I know a lot of things.”

Seda continued, “No friends allowed, anyway. So, if the Captain isn’t your lover then… we may have problems. Is there a problem?”

You kept your voice at a steady volume, “I said I was with him, didn’t I? Have you seen the man?”

“Seen him, heard him speak. So righteous and dull. Not really your type.” Seda was growing impatient with the conversation, clearly angry that he hadn’t caught a slip or lie from you.

You scrunched your face in disgust, “Ew, don’t think you know my type.”

“Buck, ‘my type’ is back home with a warm chicken noodle soup in my lap and a couple of loose papers at my disposal,” Steve whined, trying to keep the same pace as his overly enthusiastic friend as he hurried down the sidewalk.

“She’s such a knockout, Steve! I’m sure she’ll love you.”

Steve couldn’t help but blush at Bucky’s kind words, the hype always repairing some parts of Steve’s broken self-esteem and reminding him of his worth. But it was his third date this month and rejection was starting to seem like his favorite sport. No matter what he did - offering a girl some peanuts, accidentally stepping on her (once!) feet while dancing, or simply not living up to Bucky’s gracious advertising - women just weren’t interested.

“You know that’s not true, Buck. Can’t we just have a quiet night in?”

Bucky stopped and guided them into the nearby alley, both to knock some sense into his friend and to give Steve a break from the tiny jog.

“Listen here, Steve. Any girl would be lucky to be with you-”

“Buck, we’ve been through this-”

“Let me finish,” Bucky shushed him, hands on Steve’s shoulders to steady both him and himself. “Any girl would be lucky to be with you. If this one doesn’t see you how I see you, then she’s just insane.”

Steve smirked, “Don’t insult the girl before I’ve even met her, jerk.”

Bucky smiled, his high cheeks pushing up to create crinkles by his eyes. “Trust me, pal. You just need to find a woman with as big of a mouth as you.”

Steve swatted his friend across his chest, laughs rumbling in both their chests and down the once quiet alleyway.

“What hotel are you staying at?” Seda quickly asked, ignoring your quip. You were done with this conversation as it was leading nowhere.

“Staying at one where no one can hear the Captain scramble my brains. Goodbye,” you replied, an annoyance in your tone that even Seda would believe as natural.

“See you soon.”

You let Seda end the call, a little power play you allowed him to have. God, it was gonna feel good to take him down.

Steve shifted in his seat, stopping the recorder in time for his question. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Why did your dad assume we were a couple?”

You gave him a tiny chuckle, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders and settling back into your seat. “I don’t know why that man says anything anymore. I guess they just expected it.”

“Why?”

No matter how many years passed, both awake or frozen, Steve never did quite understand the sexual appeal that lingered around his name. No matter how many times Bucky joked about it, no matter the amount of social media posts, no matter anything - he just didn’t seem to understand why people thought he was a ladies man.

You snuggled deeper into your blanket, scanning the outside woods one last time just in case. “You wouldn’t risk your reputation and status for me unless you were fucking me, I guess.”

“Crude.”

You turned your head to him and sighed, “They think I’m the whore of the family. It’s just too funny sometimes.”

Steve’s face fell, “I’m sorry about that.”

You shuffled in your blanket to pull your arm out and wave it in the air. “Used to it.”

Steve didn’t press further, deciding to lay back finally to find a cozier position. It was quiet for a few minutes, just breathing and slight motion disturbing the silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the moonlight hitting the steering wheel. By the sound of Steve’s breathing, you knew he wasn’t fully asleep yet. So you allowed yourself the smallest confession, a crack in the door Steve was figuratively standing outside of.

“My sister is his prized possession, though.”

Steve didn’t respond, but from the sound of the blanket moving you could tell he had turned to face you.

“Never knew why.”

Steve pondered your words for a long time, long after your breathing became slower and tiny snores left your mouth. He didn’t exactly know what to say or what to do. It wasn’t like you dropped top secret information on him or anything, but it made him wonder just why in the world your father hated you so much.

You had done everything asked of you. You were controlled, tortured mentally everyday, having to endure and make decisions that Steve knew you didn’t want any part of. Your father should be thanking you for keeping his business afloat, for expanding it, for roping Steve’s own name into that life. As he contemplated any rational reason for such hate, he heard your soft snore turn into an innocent purr, and he felt himself leaning more into a mutual understanding. It frightened him, gripping his reality by the throat, because Steve actually knew why. That innocence he saw with you, no doubt had presented itself to your father involuntarily and your father knew.

He knew you were good at heart.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise

92 notes · View notes

anastasiaskywalker4 · 3 years

Text

MisterLuu

That is actually the best pairing DC can make out of Trinity aside Lois and Clark. Or Bruce

and Clark for that matter. They both fit Bruce well, though Diana is even more matched with

him. In fact she's the best match romantically for him out there. At least so far. Though

number of fanfiction and arts on the net would suggest that that spot is reserved for

Superman not Wonder Woman :D

Except maybe for Silver and Julie - all Batman's love interest are abusive and downright

toxic. Selina, Talia, Adrea, Jet. Because in terms of comics and not relationships it fits

Gotham mold. People just tend to forget it after rebirth run. Yeah the one that made Batman

impotent and unable to do anything without the Cat around. Exactly that one. And tend to

forget how terrible as human beings his lovers really are.

Going back to the point. Both Talia and Selina tried to kill him multiple times in the past, or

those close to him. Whatever right? Who wouldn't like a lover that tried to end you few times

over. Both assaulted him physically and emotionally. Repeatedly. Both scared his body and

his mind. Repeatedly. Both tried to seduce his wards (adopted sons if u like), just to get to

him. In Talia's case that was basically pedophilia. That's just sick and makes you want to

puke. Both are possessive bitches, Cat threatening his flings while they are in bed while

Talia, well Talia can even go as far as beheading (to her credit she was right with this one).

Both makes him a goddamn hypocrite. Both face no repercussions after a cold blooded

murder while at the same time he berates Diana like a dick when she came to look for his

friendship and support after Max incident. Difference is she had no choice while Selina or

Talia most certainly had. Great move Bats, hypocrite much? And most importantly they both

lie and betray him, and leave him. Over and over again. Again, that's a constant with Cat

and miss Al Ghul. Diana never showed any of those traits with any of her lovers.

Get any counselor or psychiatrist to read actual Bat love history throughout the decades

and they would be writing books on how disfuncional they are. For a love-hate dynamics

they work fine. Or for some adrenaline fueled sex, but that's it. Hell, he even banged Dinah

when they were on adrenaline high. It all has a clinical term. Trauma bonding. As opposed

to authentic bonding. Which he could have with WW, had even one of them tried.

They did not though. Out of fear of ruining their mutual respect and deep bond. In

pre-flashpoint it may have been a thing if Diana acted on it. Again, Diana, not Bruce, so cut

the crap on how he was deflecting her. He was in doubt, yeah, but clearly was ready to give

it a go. She was the one that got scared even though she was clearly had over bat hills in

love with him. Even Martian stated this to Supes. Pre Crisis ? Not really. Some flirting and

kissing, nothing more. Post-flashpoint, New 52 and Rebirth ? Also not, though DC like to

tease those two. Forever Evil gets a hint that Bruce feels more than friendship towards her,

much to Selina's dismay. And that goddamn tension when they got to spends decades

together in another realm. Mostly from Diana side again. But no. The real canon love that Diana had for Bruce was during pre-flashpoint, not counting alternative universes. And it

was so strong that it showed her loving him more than her mother and sisters. And her

lasso forced her to admit it when facing Mera. But Bruce was "dead" at that point. So yeah,

never acted upon this. Pity. You could see she regretted it.

Aside their comics history in canon universe, realistically speaking Diana is way more

similar to Bruce than Selina will ever be (or Talia for that matter). Even though at a the first

glance they are nothing alike. She's the light , he's the darkness. She believes in love and

trust, tries to see the good in everyone. He's cunning, distrustful and downright realistic to

her idealistic approach. She's honest and straight while he will not hesitate to lie or to use

violence to get results. And you know what? It makes for great couple chemistry and

tension. It may be a cliche, yeah, but Yin and Yang dynamics work. That's why Clark ends

up with Lois all the freaking time. Even on elseworlds he and Diana are a thing only after

Lois is out of the picture. But that's not the most important thing. Yin and Yang provides for

a tension yes, but it would never last in the long run. For a relationship you need also

something in common. And Bruce has that in spades with Diana.

They might be on opposite side of the spectrum but than you realize how much alike they

really are. They are both kindred spirits. Both born fighters, warriors at heart. Arguably two

of the best in the world. At least Diana is according to Batman. And judging by Wonder

Woman's choices in man that is a highly important trait to her. Both endlessly fighting for

others. Both have utmost respect and admiration for each other. Both tirelessly train to

make themselves physically and spiritually better. Constantly. And to make the other better.

Their sparring sessions are legendary. And heated. Both with a great heart and

compassion. I would argue that Bruce's compassion is even bigger than Diana's. Even

though their methods might differ they share the same goal, which he has with no other

woman. Both have the heart of a warrior and are pushed by the circumstances of their

upbringing to reach for impossible dreams. They are also two of the most stubborn and

obstinate people in DC universe. Both perfectly capable of operating solo, and yet both

performing the best in a team. And yes, Bats is a great team player. Both natural leaders

that other heroes follow without hesitation. Both selfless and able to sacrifice for those they

value, trust and love. None of the other Bat trollups have any of those traits. Not to mention

they emotionally and physically find the other highly attractive. One being a literal goddess

and the other perfect male specimen. As for Batman, his relationships tend to collapse due

to a lack of trust. He's either unwilling to bring his romantic partner fully into his world or he

can't bring himself to trust completely. While Selina got his trust now, it's recent

development. And a mistake judging by latest issues. Again. One would think he's smarter.

When it comes to Diana, he trusts her. Fully. She's not privy like BatClan is to his world, but

they aren't that close in mainstream DC. She's not a psycho with daddy issues or a violent

narcissist. List can go on. Selina on the other hand doesn't have that much in common with

Bruce than she has. Not even close. He loves her, yes. But I don't see Di leaving him

countless times over the choices he makes. Or lying, or betraying, or trying to sleep with

Dick to spite him or... you get the point. Though there is one thing that gives Kyle an edge.

Immortality. Diana won't die unless killed. It doesn't make for a great long term relationship

prospect. But then again, those are comics, and he's a goddamn Batman. He would find a

way :)

The thing is - there is no other woman that fits his world as much as Diana does. And Bat is

capable to loving deeply and going to great commitments with a special woman. He showed

it with Andrea, he showed it with Silver. Problem is he always got burned. Every time he let

his guard down and opened himself. And he would have to do it when it comes to Wonder

Woman. She deserves that. It's hard to imagine with current Bruce, but it is most definitely

possible. It would be harder than with an ex criminal or an assassin though. Because there

would be much more on the line. The other two would crawl back anyway if he messed it

up, Di wouldn't.

There is also another aspect to this outside comic universe. His partners tend to be minor

characters compared to WW. She has her own series, JL, JL dark and every major

crossover/event happening in DC. They don't. And so does Batman. Both are one of the

most popular DC characters.

Besides changes to Bruce writing that are needed to make this work (cough.. pre flashpoint

Bats... cough), it would require fitting it to their distinctive titles. And frankly Diana can easily

function without any love interest and generate money. It's even easier that way. It fits her

as an independent, strong female character. Arguably most iconic of them all. And It's most

certainly easier for DC with a tease here and there than an actual WonderBat in mainstream.

Maisterluu wrote this is a comment on a YouTube video which is dow in the comments. They make really good points for ww and bats. No hate to other DC ships with ww and bats.

#batman x wonder woman #wonderbat #dc comics #dc animated movies #dceu verse

35 notes · View notes

a-storm-of-roses · 3 years

Text

October Fics Day 3: Black Cat

Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard

Rating: G

Words: 1411

Summary: Rodney gets a pet. John and Rodney test their luck.

Read on AO3 or below!

“Maybe we should bring it back with us. You know, so the zoologists can examine it?”

“Since when do you pick up presents for the zoologists, Rodney?” John asked skeptically.

On the ground, Rodney didn’t answer, too busy scratching the belly of the fluffy, white animal in his lap. It was about the size of a young labrador, but looked like a cross between a fox and a cat. Rodney was clearly charmed by the creature, had been ever since it had wound its way around his legs and begun trilling in a way that was almost reminiscent of a purr.

“Aren’t you a beautiful… uh… whatever you are. Oh! And smart too!” The animal had managed to paw open one of the pockets of Rodney’s vest, and was currently using it’s small, sharp teeth to tear into a power bar. With its tail, it grabbed a chunk of the bar and dropped it into its mouth, trilling again as it gnawed on its new treat.

“Can’t take it back to Atlantis. It’s a white vreelt. They’re bad luck.” Ronon said, eyeing the creature suspiciously, his hand resting light on his stunner.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing. Look, it’s a small mammal, with a prehensile tail, and it’s clearly smart. The zoologists will have a field day.”

“The Athosians share the same belief. Vreelt were not native to Athos, but our stories still warned against the white ones. Misfortune follows those who cross paths with a white vreelt.”

“Huh. Like a black cat then,” John muttered.

“Exactly!” Rodney added. “And that’s pure hogwash, nothing but uneducated superstition.”

“Could there be anything behind it?” John asked. “Maybe something biological you didn’t know about? Something to do with the Wraith?”

Teyla shrugged.

“I do not believe so. We have many old folktales like this. But I admit, I have rarely come across a vreelt in my travels, and never a white one.”

“Well there you have it,” Rodney said, pulling the vreelt into his arms and standing. The creature went easily, nearly too easily for a wild animal, wriggling just a bit, before settling happily into the crook of Rodney’s arm.

And god help him, but Rodney looked so soft, so happy, so besotted with the little fleabag he was holding, that John just couldn’t bring himself to say no.

“Fine, we’ll bring it back.”

“Bad idea,” Ronon grumbled as they made their way to the gate. Rodney harrumphed and the vreelt trilled, a bit deeper than before.

When John twisted his ankle on a stray root, just a click from the gate, Ronon said nothing, but his eyebrows definitely said I told you so.

---

For some godforsaken reason, Rodney named the vreelt Pearl. And to his credit, he did leave Pearl with the zoologists for about four days. But while her (and Pearl was a her, it turned out) tail was of general interest, not much else about her was. When Major Lorne brought back a small creature that looked like a cross between a mouse and frog, but turned out to asexually reproduce, the zoologists forgot all about Pearl and she moved back in with Rodney.

Rodney brought Pearl everywhere - to the labs, to the mess, to team movie nights, even though both Teyla and Ronon insisted on sitting as far from her as possible.

She was sweet and smart, and generally well behaved, especially given that Rodney spoiled her rotten, feeding her off of his plate and petting her absentmindedly, every time she begged for attention. And sprained ankle aside, John was sure Teyla and Ronon’s fears were unfounded.

Sure, Rodney spilled blue jello, all down the front of his newly cleaned shirt. And Teyla had lost her best pair of bantos, the ones her father had carved, and Ronon seemed to have developed a persistent stomach issue, which Carson thought might be a gluten intolerance, but none of those things had to do with Pearl.

And it wasn’t Pearl’s fault that the chemistry lab burned down, when there hadn’t even been any active experiments running. Or that the Daedulus somehow brought salt instead of sugar, and everyone was subjected to six weeks of bitter coffee and savory food.

But by the time the ZPM malfunctioned, and the shields failed, John was ready to reassess.

56 long hours, fuelled by adrenaline, bitter coffee and a judicious application of uppers, and John had reached his limit. Rodney was stumbling back to his quarters, crashing already, another crisis averted, when John waylaid him in the transporter.

“She has to go.”

“Who has to what? Sheppard, I’m too tired for this.”

“Pearl. Ronon’s right. She’s bad luck.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, has your brain finally abandoned ship, let your hair take control of your body? Do you hear yourself? She’s an animal! A pet! There’s no such thing as bad luck.”

“You have to admit Rodney, things haven’t been going our way recently.”

“This is the Pegasus galaxy, Colonel, when do they ever go our way? I’m way too tired for this nonsense.” And with that Rodney hit the control panel and stalked out of the transporter, striding with purpose, even though John was sure they were nowhere near his quarters.

---

In the cold light of day, and after nearly 16 hours of straight sleep, John could admit he had perhaps been a little rash. He apologized to Rodney, brought Pearl a power bar and a leather chew toy, and glared right back at Ronon whenever he eyed Pearl a little too viciously.

But things kept happening.

They lost power in the central spire, for no apparent reason, faced a shortage of ammunition when the Daedalus was delayed. John caught the Pegasus equivalent of strep throat and lost his voice for a week, and Rodney burned his hands doing a standard rewire on a control panel.

But, bandaged hands aside, Rodney was happy. Softer, lighter somehow, as if having something to love, and something that would love him back, uncomplicatedly, was all he’d really been missing. Pearl adored him, spent her hours sprawled on his lap, or wrapped tightly around his feet, and Rodney doted on her in return, brushing her soft, white fur, and baby talking her when he thought no one else was around.

She was a sweet thing, trilled happily when she saw the rest of the team, even Ronon, who continued to glare suspiciously. John had to admit he’d grown fond of the little puffball, even he did sometimes feel a twinge of jealousy when Rodney stroked her fur and called her beautiful.

---

“What have you done to Pearl!”

“Nothing! It just happened naturally!” Zelenka was stood square in the lab, glaring Rodney down, as a cheerful, but notably darker Pearl, ran circles around Rodney’s feet, trilling in pleasure.

“When I left here, Pearl was very much white. Get it? White? Like a pearl? How the hell did she end up looking... sooty?”

“Pearls can be black too,” Zelenka shrugged.

“Maybe she’s like an ermine,” John suggested, just to watch Rodney splutter some more.

“Don’t be ridiculous- of all the stupid-”

---

As it turned out, Pearl was like an ermine, or a stoat as the zoologists kept calling them.

“She’ll probably turn white again in a few months time - it’s hard to know how the move to a new planet might have affected her rhythms,” Dr. Patel assured him.

“The name doesn’t make sense anymore,” Rodney lamented, even as he held Pearl close, his hands stroking through her darker, slightly rougher fur.

“I mean Zelenka wasn’t wrong.” Rodney fixed him with a blank stare. “Pearls can be black.”

Rodney sighed.

“Least she isn’t bad luck anymore,” Ronon offered.

And when they stumbled on a ZPM on a routine archaeological mission, well that had nothing to do with Pearl either. Nor did the discovery of a bean that tasted suspiciously similar to coffee, or the reappearance of Teyla’s bantos.

And John certainly wasn’t going to credit Pearl for Rodney kissing him, sweet and a bit shy, or the shining happiness in his eyes when John kissed him right back, revelling in the soft press of lips, the warm touch of skin. With a high trill, Pearl summarily interrupted them, head butting Rodney’s arm in annoyance at the lack of attention she was receiving.

As one hand stroked through warm dark fur, and another twined in short brown hair, maybe, John thought, their luck had finally turned around.

#Rodney deserves all the pets #Pegasus superstitions #Seeing Rodney with animals does something to John #Fluff #john sheppard #rodney mckay #stargate atlantis #mcshep #October Fics

24 notes · View notes

satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ some kind of disaster

⍣ all time low series | previous | next | 2/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: tendo knows he is, he was just waiting for you to figure it out

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: angst, breakups, akaashi being a good friend, semi being (maybeb too much of) an asshole

⇢ word count: 3496

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: 1) this is unedited. 2) i have a serious complex about this whole series now due to how well monster did, so i’m sorry if anyone is disappointed by this chapter.

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

They say falling in love is easy, it’s falling out of love that’s hard. What they fail to mention is how hard it is to still be in love even when you know it isn’t what’s best for you.

And right then, Tendo wasn’t good for you.

It had been several months since that first night and, though you had known it wouldn’t be easy, you had never expected it to be like it was. He had more issues than you could have imagined and a staunch refusal to talk about them. You had your guesses about why which you tried to understand, but the way he handled any small argument or misunderstanding in your relationship was unbearable and unhealthy.

Even now, he wasn’t speaking to you and it was tearing you apart. You weren’t even aware of what you had done because he wouldn’t tell you and you couldn’t for the life of you recall having done anything specific.

“Are you gonna do it today?” Akaashi asked, his words soft, full of understanding. The classical literature class you shared with him was over, and he hovered beside your chair waiting for you to gather your thoughts and your items up. He knew most of what had been happening with Tendo and sympathized because he also knew how enamored you had become with him. It was understandable-- you had been dating for a while, but he had seen a slow decline in your mood over the last few months. After the honeymoon period was over, he would guess, and the little issues that always crop up in relationships started to manifest.

He recalled the night two weeks ago when you had come to him asking for advice, and it all poured out over takeout and wine. Even Bokuto, who always saw the bright side of things, remained in silent shock at everything happening behind the scenes.

You said he was never violent or angry or irrational. He would just...ignore you for hours or days on end, sometimes for things you couldn’t even determine, then come back like nothing had happened. If you did have an argument, no matter how small, he would just walk away without even trying to come to an agreement, then refuse to speak to you like normal until he decided he was done with that.

Akaashi’s heart broke for you as you sobbed into first your hands and then Bokuto’s shoulder, though he couldn’t refrain from smiling at Bokuto’s sympathy tears. His partner really was too cute for words.

Then you had spoken the dreaded words he was sure had been sitting in your throat for a lot longer than it had taken you to come to him.

“I think I’m going to break up with him.”

The relief that drew across your face as you said that was evident that you weren’t thinking about it, that you just needed support to go through with it. Of course, he and Bokuto were more than willing to give you that.

“I think so,” you murmured, taking your time packing up your stuff. The text you had sent at the beginning of class went unanswered, but marked that it was read two minutes after you sent it.

We need to talk.

It was too obvious what that meant and you were dreading the confrontation to come. You weren’t worried about him getting aggressive. In fact, you were pretty sure you knew how this was going to go down. Like every other argument, he was going to pretend it wasn’t happening and walk away.

The door was too loud when it opened, the students out in the hall too happy when Akaashi opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Tendo standing across from the door staring out the window with a pensive expression. Then it clenched with all the emotions you were feeling, good and bad and your head spun with anxiety. He looked so sad, his usually vibrant red eyes dull and blank as he watched whatever was going on in the quad.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Akaashi asked. You nodded absently, eyes still locked on Tendo. For most people, he would be afraid they were going to renege on their resolve and give into the false promises of change. But the change he had witnessed in you over the last few months and the quiet sadness in your softly spoken words a couple of weeks back had given him a different feeling. You would go through with it, and it was going to shatter you.

Tendo still didn’t look at you when you called his name and, if you had been wavering at all, that shut it down. But he followed you anyway, until you found a secluded spot down an empty hallway.

You took a deep, stuttery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, and his voice was icy. He didn’t even seem to care about the tears starting to fall or the way you swiped them away. But it pierced his heart, knowing it was him that caused them, and he knew what was coming. He had known it would end this way the moment he fell for you. He had ended up hurting you just as he’d said he would, and yet he’d let it get this far anyway.

“I’m sorry for whatever it is I did this time. And I’m sorry, but-- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you whispered, drawing him back to the present.

Silence followed those words. You still weren’t looking at him, so you missed the widening of those sleepy vermillion eyes you’d so come to love and the hands that caressed you so gently curling into fists at his sides.

He knew it, but couldn’t stop the surprise, even as the first crack appeared in his heart. “I-- What?”

It was so hard. Without meaning to, you had fallen in love with him, flaws and baggage and all. You should’ve known better. You had known it wouldn’t be easy to love him but it...it was so much harder than you had been expecting. Too much of your time was spent wondering what you had done to upset him this time and why he was ignoring you, because Tendo didn’t talk about his feelings with you. He left them on a back burner on high until they were so burnt they were unrecognizable, and when he was done being pouty he would seek you out and act like nothing was wrong.

There was no communication in your relationship-- if you could even call it that at this point. You couldn’t find a point to being together if every other day you had done something new to drive him away. It was taxing on you, your mental health plummeting because you were constantly worried about if something was wrong with you. It wasn’t until one of your other friends pointed out how different you were that you turned inward and discovered that particular truth.

You were struggling to keep it together by then, the pain in your heart and the tightness in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You still hadn’t looked at Tendo. It was too hard-- you would never be able to get the words out if he was staring at you with hurt and confusion.

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I can’t fix you, Tendo. This-- This thing we have isn’t healthy, it’s-- we spend more time f-fighting than we do-- or you spend more time ignoring* me for things I-- I don’t even know why half the time and I’m constantly wondering what I’ve done--”

You stopped.

Your thoughts were racing in time with the throbbing pain in your chest and your voice had risen into a high-pitched, breathless mess and you couldn’t think. Breathing in deep, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall as they may just to give you some relief from the pressure in your throat and once again you missed the look of fear on Tendo’s face.

He’d seen it coming. He had been expecting it for weeks, but didn’t know he would still be blindsided by it. It was his own fault, expecting you to chase after him and deal with his bullshit on your own. He knew it wasn’t fair, but every time he considered the alternative, he clammed up. Still, he wanted to reach out, to comfort you and tell you he would change, but he knew it wasn’t true.

His problems were deep rooted and it wasn’t his partner’s job to put him back together-- even he knew that.

So his nails continued to bite into his palms at his side as he let you spill every pent up emotion, just waiting for the final door to slam in his face.

“But it isn’t me,” you whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. At long last, you lifted your head up and met his eyes. Those beautiful red eyes that you often found yourself lost in were bright and clear and dead, not a trace of emotion anywhere in them. Like he didn't care, and that only made you cry harder. “I know it’s you and I can’t do it anymore. Everything you do makes me-- I’m not the problem, Tendo.” He flinched at the use of his surname and you ignored it. “I love you, you know that? I don’t know when or how, but I do know why. But I also know we aren’t healthy and this relationship is-- it isn’t a relationship. It just isn’t. I don’t know what it is but I--”

He swallowed as your shoulders fell. The words he wanted to say bubbled on his tongue and he bit them back. Hearing you say them now was a cruelty he knew he deserved after the way he’d been treating you, but he still wanted to lash out and break you like you had broken him. But as a last kindness for what you had given him, he only turned and walked away.

The silence that remained spoke volumes like the space that had developed between you, and you left as well, leaving everything behind.

Akaashi was waiting for you just around the corner from the hall, watching Tendo shove through the crowd and out of sight. His hand was warm against your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears. For now, they had stopped, but he knew more would come.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, in some regards. The weight of your feelings for him still remained, and you knew they would take some time to slide off as well. Akaashi was watching you with kind sympathy, his quiet company a relief as you looped your arm with his, letting him lead you out into the warm spring air. It seemed almost cruel that the weather was so nice when you were so miserable, and a few more tears spilled.

Guilt accompanied every breath that you felt so light following your breakup, but you knew it was for the best. Nothing good would come of remaining with Tendo when he was so mixed up-- you couldn’t make him happy if he couldn’t make himself happy, and vice versa.

Bokuto’s voice rang loud over the sound of the rest of the crowd, waving his hand above his head at the pair of you.

“Shall we go get something to eat? And it’s Friday, you can stay with us, if you’d like,” Akaashi said, his voice soothing and melodic to your ringing ears. Suddenly you were more than grateful to have him and Bokuto in your life-- even if the latter was a bit obnoxious.

Like now, he was literally tugging you and Akaashi along behind him, talking nonstop about food, not listening to a word Akaashi was saying. But when you looked over to your friend, he didn’t look aggravated. He looked content and amused, staring at his partner with a soft fondness that made you almost jealous as you thought about when Tendou would look at you that same way.

There was a sharp pang in your heart as you realized he probably wouldn’t look twice at you again. Because that’s just how Tendou was. He ignored his problems and waited until they just went away. And you needed more than that.

i crashed down from a high that felt so real i never knew how much it would hurt to feel you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal you gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Semi said. Though it was posed as a question, Tendo knew perfectly well that Semi was telling him what he already knew. As soon as Tendo had shown up in front of him, Semi had snapped that and he could only nod in agreement. “I always knew you’d do this. _____ was perfect for you but you--”

“I know, alright,” Tendou snapped, curling his fists into hands. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since he’d first gotten your text an hour and a half ago. Like the coward he was, he had ignored it and met you outside your class instead, a part of him hoping it would just go away if you saw him. But the hopelessness in your eyes when you had looked at him told him he wouldn’t get his wish this time. “I know I’m a fucking idiot, and _____ was always too good for me.”

A flash of your face and the echo of your words replayed in his addled brain.

“I don’t know what I’ve done this time.”

You hadn’t done anything. You had never done anything. He was a coward when it came to arguments but when he was ignoring you it wasn’t because of you.

It was him, all his fears bubbling to the surface and an attempt to push you away, to make you realize you were worth more than whatever he had to offer.

“Whatever we have is unhealthy.”

“It isn’t even a relationship.”

He was unhealthy, he knew he was, and it had driven you away from him. He only had himself to blame.

Semi huffed, watching Tendo closely. He was doing that blank thing he did to mask his feelings when he couldn’t handle them, turning into himself instead of applying the burden to someone else. He was sure he was doing it to you in your relationship too, and you probably didn’t understand because Tendo wasn’t being open. It was a vicious cycle, one Semi had seen too often. “I’m glad you realize, you idiot.” Then, more softly, he said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I know you love her.”

Tendo flinched, his eyes closing.

*“I love you, you know that?”*

He would have said them back in a heartbeat, given the opportunity. He wanted so desperately to say them but the words had stuck in his throat, and the less selfish part of him knew it was for the best. The situation was already fucked up enough without him stirring it up more. Saying those words back would have hurt more than helped, especially because, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t change.

At least he could say he had done something right, in letting you go.

You would flourish without him holding you back and weighing you down with all his problems and baggage.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Semi’s voice cut through Tendo’s derogatory thoughts, and he flinched again. He hated that smug, all knowing tone even though he was usually spot on.

“Alright then, oh great oracle. What am I thinking?” he asked, shuffling along down the sidewalk towards their apartment. Trying to think of anything besides you, he tried to remember what was in their fridge to eat. Old pizza is all he could think of, from when you had come over and--

Nope.

Semi snorted at Tendo’s sad attempt at humor. Not that all of his attempts weren’t sad but his heart really wasn’t in it this time. “You’re telling yourself it was for the best and how you aren’t good enough and blah blah blah. You’re still an idiot.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Tendo asked, looking up to the sky. It was still early afternoon, the sky cloudless, the air pleasantly warm. If circumstances were different he would be spending it with you by his side-- then again, probably not. He hadn’t properly spoken to you or seen you in a few days and it wasn’t going to change today either. “My ears hurt.”

And his heart. He could feel a slow throbbing building up between his ears. A migraine was the final nail he deserved in his coffin and the sadistic part of him wanted to exacerbate it as much as he could. Just to give himself something else to focus on.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time. You’re a goddamn idiot,” Semi said, glaring at him. He knew he should feel worse for his friend than he was, but he also deserved it. There was only so much sympathy he could give when Tendo refused to help himself. He had never been happier than when he started dating you and Semi couldn’t go ten minutes without hearing your name. Now Tendo was slumped over as they walked, feet shuffling against the sidewalk as he stared blankly ahead, and Semi sighed. “Can I give you some advice? You know, friend to idiot?”

Tendo groaned, rolling his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. Semi meant well-- mostly-- and usually gave good advice. Now, if only he would stop trying to make Tendo feel worse. “Sure, I guess. We both know I won’t listen though.”

Semi nodded, snickering behind his hand. The signal for the crosswalk changed, throngs of people instantly flooding the street. They flowed through and around each other, becoming separated for a few moments, until they met on the sidewalk on the other side.

“When you two are together, were together, I’ve never seen you happier. And Akaashi says that _____ is-- was-- too. Do you not trust her?” Semi asked, and watched the way Tendo froze up and paled, inhaling sharply. But he didn’t immediately say no, and that was telling. “If you don’t trust her, you’ll never maintain a relationship, with her or anyone else. Do you really want that, ‘Tori?”

He hadn’t considered that. Not trusting you wasn’t the exact issue. He felt he could tell you anything-- so long as anything didn’t entail things that might annoy you or make him a burden on you. His biggest fear was putting too much of himself into you only to overwhelm you, driving you away. That had backfired pretty spectacularly though, if he had to say so, and now he was left to wonder what would have happened if he had gone that route.

“No, I guess not,” he answered. To anyone else it would have sounded callous and uncaring, but Semi had known him a lot longer and recognized the sound of a Tendo who was in serious thought.

“Then you need to change. I get that you’re afraid, but those bullies from elementary and highschool shouldn’t keep holding you back. And who knows, maybe it isn’t too late with _____,” Semi said with a shrug, and smirked at the way Tendo perked up at that. He deflated just as rapidly a split second later, but it was to be expected.

The smirk fell as Semi considered. The way things stood, you were better off because Tendo was unhealthy, and probably not in a good place to be in a relationship. He didn’t fault you for breaking it off-- not when he would have done the same. Still, he’d like to see him happy again, especially with you. But he couldn’t guess if Tendo would take it to heart and try, or whether or not you would wait around for him to decide and figure himself out.

Shrugging, he glanced at the barbecue place they were passing by and reached out, tugging Tendo to a stop. When he nodded towards it, Tendou sighed.

“Sure, I’m down. Shouldn’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

Semi groaned. “You are such an idiot.”

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @sluttony, @visaintes, @yunhosblackgf, @super-noya, @byebyes-world, @newfriendjen, @atsunakaashi

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #.somekindofdisaster

349 notes · View notes

jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

(Nearest) Furthest and Dearest

Written for @aphelioo as part of @thewitchersecretsanta.

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier Summary: With so many suitors and adoring fans to swoon over Jaskier, Geralt had no hope of ever being more than a protector and source of inspiration. He'd all but given up, accepting his fate. It wasn't like Witchers should want or need anything anyway.

It was an understatement to say that Jaskier was popular. He had fans across the Continent who adored him to an almost alarming extent. This made Geralt both happy for his friend but also rather sad for himself. Because, in the constant stream of admirers, Geralt didn’t stand out. He didn’t have a special place in Jaskier’s life. Well, he did, he was Jaskier’s muse, took him on adventures and provided inspiration for songs. But that wasn’t all Geralt wanted to be. Like the many other adoring fans, he had only gone and lost his heart to Jaskier. Unlike the masses, Geralt didn’t just love the image of Jaskier and his songs. Nobody else got to watch Jaskier wake up, squinting worse than a startled mole into the sunlight while creases from the pillow lined his face. Geralt quite doubted Jaskier would have quite as many fans if they had to bear witness to not just the songs in the taverns but the grunt and whining in the forest after a slightly underdone squirrel meal. Over the years Geralt had seen Jaskier in every state of being and still loved him, no matter whether he was belching after an ale or snoring thanks to a cold.

The problem was, Geralt could watch from afar as Jaskier charmed his way through life, got invited to bed after bed, often with the offer of more than just a tumble. All those suitors, they could offer so much more than Geralt ever could. A Witcher didn’t have a lot, they have even less to spend on frivolous gifts. The scarf Geralt managed to save up for and present Jaskier as the weather turned cold was, by Geralt’s standards, extravagant. Yet it paled in comparison to the three others that were given to Jaskier over the following week, each more ornate and of softer material than the previous. It was no wonder Geralt’s measly offering got shoved to the bottom of a pack and forgotten about.

Anything Geralt offered, it was vastly surpassed in value by others. When he could offer a nicer room at an inn for the night, a suitor whisked Jaskier away to a cleaner, larger and less drafty room for the night. The food Geralt could buy was pigswill when Jaskier could dine at any court he wished because he had invitations from all over the Continent to play for the rich and elite. It wasn’t like Geralt could even offer Jaskier a horse to ride with him. Feeding two humans and a horse was strain enough on Geralt’s coin pouch already, he went hungry so Jaskier and Roach wouldn’t more frequently than he’d hoped. It didn’t matter anyway, any horse he could have offered Jaskier would have been good for nothing more than glue when compared to the carriages that came to whisk Jaskier away if he so wished.

Despite all this, Jaskier still stuck by Geralt’s side. It certainly wasn’t for all the gifts Geralt had tried to bestow on him, it wasn’t for good company because even Geralt knew he was sullen and bitter most days. The only reason Jaskier stuck around was probably for the safety of travelling with a Witcher while exploring the Continent. Geralt couldn’t begrudge him, he knew Jaskier craved the new and the exciting, was familiar with how Jaskier would pout when a contract was something as mundane as a handful of drowners. He had even begun to turn his nose up at kikimoras, preferring to stay at the inn and entertain his loyal fans than get dirty and be in danger for such boring contracts.

If all that hadn’t been enough of an unfortunate mess, Geralt’ heart had one more painful twist to choke itself with. Namely that he was failing as a Witcher. He was meant to be aloof, above frivolous things like matters of the heart. Maybe the second round of trials were wearing off, weakening him. Geralt had no idea what was happening to him. Working through his inner turmoil and allowing himself to gift Jaskier things had been difficult enough. Now, he was left holding the tatters of his heart and trying to figure out whether it was terminal.

So caught up in his worries, Geralt didn’t notice at first that Jaskier was chattering away. That was another problem. Jaskier spoke so many words but rarely actually said anything and Geralt didn’t have the time and energy to parse all of them. Thus he often found himself humming along to Jaskier’s chatter without actually paying much attention. There were more pressing issues to concentrate on, such as the surrounding area and listening out for any danger as they settled for the evening. What did draw Geralt’s attention was Jaskier huffing as he dug through his bag.

“Honestly Geralt, why do you let me carry so much crap around? I don’t even need three scarves.”

Said scarves were being pulled out of the bag and being dumped unceremoniously in the dirt by Jaskier’s feet. Rich, vibrant silks that were now covered in dust. Geralt never could understand how anyone could have such disregard for their possessions. Then again, Jaskier didn’t treat Geralt’s heart any different either, maybe he just didn’t value what he had.

“What do you keep them for then?” They could sell them or burn them and they would be more useful than when they lugged them around, bursting their bags with frivolous gifts.

“We might need them.” Jaskier frowned at Geralt as though he’d heard the worst suggestion on earth. “I’m certainly not tearing up my doublets to bandage your wounds with.”

Not that Geralt ever expected him to. “I don’t need or want you to.”

“I know.” There was a hint of sadness to Jaskier’s words. “You don’t want anyone or need anyone. I know.”

Which was an absolute lie but Geralt couldn’t refute it. A Witcher didn’t have wants or needs. They had the Path, their swords and their purpose, and that ought to be enough. They shouldn’t be mooning over a bard who could have anyone and anything. They most definitely shouldn’t be trying to impress them. Maybe there was a ballad in it that Jaskier would never realise: the Witcher who gave his all and still wasn’t enough. Usually, those Witchers ended up dead.

A soft huff from Jaskier drew Geralt out of his introspection. His friends was staring into the bag with a small, almost bitter smile twisting his lips. Whatever he had in the bag, he was running his thumb over it.

“I imagine it’s nice, not wanting anyone. It gives life a certain simplicity surely.”

“I guess.” The lie burned Geralt’s throat.

“Makes me wish sometimes that I could have some of your stoicness, some of the stones of the fortress around your heart.”

So someone had caught Jaskier’s fancy. It was only a matter of time, Geralt knew. Their time together was limited, dictated by Jaskier’s whims and desires. Geralt had done all he could to entice Jaskier to stay but, like always it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

“We can go back and find them. It’s not too late.” If the lies had burned, saying those words was agony. Geralt didn’t want to let Jaskier go, didn’t want to deliver him on a platter to someone else. But Witchers didn’t want anyone, Geralt didn’t need Jaskier. That wasn’t a luxury he could afford, both literally and metaphorically.

“It’s okay Geralt, they don’t want me. I know that for sure.”

How anyone wouldn’t want Jaskier was beyond Geralt. He cleared his throat, wanting to comfort but that was a skill he never developed. When Roach was upset, he pressed against her side, so with great simplicity, Geralt shifted to sit close to Jaskier, shoulders together. It meant he also caught a glimpse of the item in the bag that had Jaskier all misty eyed.

A cheap scarf. A very familiar one at that. Geralt could distinctly remember buying it and shoving it at Jaskier’s chest in a market when it was cold. It was never worn after that first day and Geralt had known he’d failed at giving a gift once more. Now, it was in the bottom of their bag, being caressed by a sad Jaskier while other, fancier scarves were still on the ground.

“It’s silly, I know,” Jaskier whispered. “But I couldn’t bring myself to wear it for fear of damaging or losing it.”

“It doesn’t match any of your outfits.”

“I don’t care.” Jaskier turned to Geralt, pulling the scarf out. Keeping eye contact, he linked his fingers with Geralt’s and wrapped the scarf around their joined hands in a mockery of handfasting. “You gave it to me. That makes it important.”

Speechless, Geralt frowned, trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t have to because Jaskier’s eyes were flicking down to his lips as they leaned in closer together. As their lips brushed, Geralt had a thought. Maybe, just maybe, he had been enough all along.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher secret santa #get together #love confessions

159 notes · View notes

thebmatt · 3 years

Text

FFXIV Write Day 1

Foster – “encourage or promote the development of (something, typically something regarded as good)”

“I still cannot believe you built a bloody airship! I mean, I’ve done maintenance work on them under Cid or Stephanivien’s tutelage, but you BUILT one, from practically nothing!”

Tataru looked up from the pile of paperwork she was dealing with and grinned at Franks. “What, you didn’t think little old me could do it all by myself? No, wait, that’s not it, is it?? You’re JEALOUS!”

Franks threw down the cloth he’d been using to clean his gun and tools only moments before. “Of COURSE, I’m jealous! You know how many times I’ve tried to make time with either one of them to learn more about magitek engineering? I’ve lost count, because every time, without fail, either I have to cancel because the star’s in peril again or one of them has some company emergency or other to deal with! And now here you are, buildin’ an entire AIRSHIP! Hells yes I’m jealous!”

Tataru spasmed as she tried to hold back her mirth, covering her mouth, but there was no hiding the look in her eyes. First a few giggles escaped her, growing more numerous and loud, until she released peals of laughter, falling over in her chair. Franks eventually joined in, the pair enjoying a simple moment together.

Eventually Tataru managed to get herself under control. “Well, hopefully one day, this will all be in our pasts and you can spend the rest of your days building and maintaining magitek, if you wish. Think you’ll open up Cid’s first competition? Or maybe work for him? Wait, can you stand to be around Nero that much?”

Franks chuckled as he resumed cleaning a wrench.”Honestly, once you recognize and accept that his boundless arrogance is an attempt to mask both his profound fear at having to essentially restart his life in a formerly-hostile land AND trying to sort out exactly how he feels about Cid, he’s really not that bad. But while working at the Ironworks would certainly be enjoyable, I think my place is in Ishgard, in the Machinists guild. I want to be at the forefront of that discipline, both training new recruits and helpin’ Stephanivien come up with new tools for them to use. I foresee workin’ closely with the Ironworks to make that happen, though, so it’s really the best o’ both worlds.”

Tataru nodded. “I don’t know what the Scions will do once this is all over. I don’t even know if there’s really a place for us once the world is saved, if such a thing is even possible. But I might quite like working for Cid, I think. There’s a lot of upsides. Good pay, constantly getting to learn, don’t have to leave Mor Dhona…”

“Not to mention being in constant proximity to a certain Lalafell engineer…” Franks added, smirking as he looked over in her direction.

Tataru flushed and quickly looked away from his knowing gaze. “Y-yes, I suppose being near my good friend Wedge would be a nice perk!”

“Uh huh” Franks replied, not at all sounding like he was buying that description for one second. He finished wiping down the last piece of his aetherotransformer, and with practiced ease, began reassembling the components. With a final click, the device came together and lit up from within. Giving it a final examination, he returned it to its place at his hip and began reassembling his gun. “So…this next question might seem cruel, and if it’s hurtful please tell me so I can apologize, but I’m curious. You’re clearly a good engineer, which means math isn’t a problem for you. So why have you had such a problem with arcanima?”

Tataru had returned her attention to her paperwork, but the question stopped her mid-sentence. She looked back at Franks, her expression one of sad acceptance. “Thank you for saying it like…. that”

“Tataru, I’m so…”

“No no, it’s not bad. It’s nothing I haven’t asked myself and wrestled with, but I came to an answer a while ago.” She picked up a small clock that adorned her desk. “When I’m building, anything from constructing an airship to something simple like sawing wood…the math is there, a physical object in front of me. When I can see, can feel, the results right then, it all makes sense in my head. But with Arcanima….it was all in my head for me to unravel before it would manifest the magic. That’s harder for me. Not impossible, I don’t think I could have manifested a carbuncle or a Ruin spell otherwise, but I was a lot less confident, doubly so when I had to fight with it. I think that confidence, or lack thereof, is why my carbuncle didn’t do what I want.”

Franks nodded. “That absolutely is understandable. Everyone learns differently after all.”

Tataru’s smile brightened. “And really, I’m somewhat glad it didn’t work out! I wouldn’t have been able to find my talents as a crafter and intelligence gatherer for the Scions if I hadn’t accepted defeat with a grimoire!”

Franks laughed. “Absolutely true. I’ve no idea what would have become of the Scions if you hadn’t! We probably would still be wondering how we’d pay for the fare to Kugane! Definitely wouldn’t be eating as well, that’s for sure!”

She had to laugh at that. “Oh, I get it, I’m just your bank lender and chef, is that it?”

“In all seriousness, do you still wish you could join us in the field? Fight alongside everyone?”

She paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “I won’t deny the idea doesn’t STILL have some appeal, but I know I’m way more valuable to the Scions in my current role. I do wish I had a more reliable way of defending myself, especially should the Garlands attempt another Waking Sands massacre, though. I suppose I’ll just have to hope the people of Revenant’s Toll are more capable of defending us than the citizens of Vesper Bay were.”

Franks looked back down to his gun, nodding. “Mmm, makes sense. Even if you aren’t in enemy territory, as it were, traveling around isn’t always safe. We might just have to….” he stopped, nearly dropping the assembled firearm.

“Have to what, Franks?”

“I can’t believe I never thought of this. How did it not occur to me?”. Franks stood up, slinging his weapon across his band into the holster that held it in place. He looked to Tataru with an almost manic gleam in his eye. “Go get something warm to wear, Tataru! We got someplace to be!”

Tataru looked confused “W-where??”

Franks grinned. “Ishgard!”

A bell later, the air around the Ishgardian aetheryte gave a slight pop as it was suddenly displaced by the appearing forms of Franks and Fearless. Both shivered, if only briefly, before their bodies re-acclimated to the colder temperatures that they had grown used to those many moons they’d spent in the city.

Both were quickly recognized by practically everyone they passed by, and while Franks had little hope of recognizing most of the people who spoke to them, Tataru seemed to know everyone, able to call them by name and ask personal questions that she’d had to have learned about on those random evenings in the Forgotten Knight. More than once, she was able to recognize fully helmed Temple Knights by voice alone. Franks, for his part, hurried them both along, seemingly eager to reach their destination.

“So where ARE we going, exactly?” Tataru asked in between a conversation with one of Hilda’s people in the City Watch and a noblewoman of a minor house. Franks didn’t reply aside from a grin on his face until a few minutes later when he stopped in front of a building and pointed. “There!”

Tataru bid one more person farewell and stopped to take in where the pair had arrived at. Sounds of rhythmic thumping filled the air, which smelled of flame and metal and soot. She looked up at the building. “Skysteel Manufactory? What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see!” Franks called back, already having made his way to the corner where one needed to turn to enter the Manufactory’s font door. Tataru squeaked and started after him as quick as her smaller legs could carry her. By the time she rounded the corner, Franks had already thrown open the wooden doors of the entrance and strode in.

“Franks, my old friend!” a voice cried out from within. Tataru quickly ran to catch up, and as she entered the door, the eyes of an Elezen man quickly jumped to her. “And mistress Tataru! What a surprise!”

“Good to see you too, Lord Stephanivien!” she replied, smiling.

“Whatever brings Ishgard’s savior, and most importantly my best machinist, and the Scion’s….erm…what IS your official role within the Scions of the Seventh Dawn these days, milady? If half of what Franks tells me is true, “secretary” would seem a woefully inadequate title! Perhaps ‘the very hull on which the entire ship is built’? No? Too long?”

Tataru giggled. “Oh no, milord, ‘secretary’ is just fine. I like it, makes people underestimate me! And that’s how I get em!”

“Who’s come calling, milord?” came a voice from the upper levels of the Manufactory. A woman’s head peaked over the railing, her blond ponytails dangling from the sides of her head. “I thought I heard….TATARU!” With that, she bolted for the stairs that led to the entryway, sliding down the rails. Tataru ran for the woman and lept right into her arms, hugging.

“What’re ye doin here, girl? I thought you were busy keepin’ them Scions from fallin apart!”

“I don’t know, rightly! Franks dragged me….” Tataru trailed off as she noticed that Joye’s braids had somehow completely undone themselves, and her hair was a wild mess. “Are you ever going to tell me how you do that??”

“Dunno what yer on about! FRANKS!” she turned and yelled at the man who’d been quietly conversing with Stephanivien. “Why you dragged this poor lass all the way out into the cold arse o’ this time o’ night without tellin’ her what’s goin on?”

Franks smiled, leaning away from Stephanivien, and crossed his arms. “Well, Joye, I’d like to introduce you to someone that, well, you don’t really need introduction to! That lady you’re hugging is Tataru Taru, Scion of the Seventh Dawn, the glue and rivets that keep the very organization held together, and-“

“We know who she is, ye daft sod!” Joy interrupted, setting Tataru back on the ground. “Ya literally just watched us have a mini-reunion!”

“-AND, assuming she’s amenable, the newest member of the Machinist’s guild!” Franks continued, as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

THAT got everyone’s attention. Both Joye’s and Tataru’s jaws dropped. Stephanivien simply smiled.

“Wait…this is your solution to me wanting to increase my martial skillset?” Tataru asked.

Franks threw his arms out, gesturing around to the manufactory around them. “It’s a perfect idea! Think about it! You’re already proficient with magitek, you’ve certainly proven that by now! You already know what I’m guessing is about 80% of the members already! You don’t need any extensive training in magic or heavy melee arms, all you really need to learn is how to shoot! I don’t doubt you can get the hang of that, especially with Joye teaching you!”

Joye looked down at Tataru. “Aye….aye I can! Tataru, this’ll be great!”

Tataru still appeared in shock. “But…I don’t…I don’t have a gun! And I bet they don’t keep ones sized for Lalafell around!”

Stephanivien knelt down to face her. “As it turns out, my dear, we actually made a custom one for a colleague of ours from Garlond Ironworks. He frequently comes to collaborate with our fair guild and commissioned a carbine with which to recreationally shoot. He keeps it here, as well. I believe you are acquainted with one Wedge? His weapon should suffice for you to practice with until we can build a custom one for you. I daresay he will not object either, would you not agree?” He winked almost conspiratorially.

“I know where it is! Come on Tataru, let’s go blast some training dummies!” Joye practically dragged Tataru behind her as she ran outside. Tataru didn’t require TOO much prompting, however, as pretty soon, she was running full steam out the door behind Joye under her own power.

Stephanivien turned to Franks. “Seems you have a knack for fostering talent in people, my friend. I heard of the fortune that befell the Baroness de Jervaint, and now you’ve added a new member to our guild’s ranks as well! I know you must wear any number of metaphorical hats, but I am quite glad the Machinist’s goggles are among them!”

Franks smiled. Whatever the future held, he was glad to keep building towards making it better.

#Final Fantasy XIV #ffxivwrite2021 #oldmanfranks

21 notes · View notes

bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years

Text

Types of kisses with Yoongi

First kiss

Yoongi loved that on your dates with him you were okay just staying in, watching movies, or having him cook for you. He was a homebody and preferred to stay home where you two could speak freely and enjoy each other’s company without the fear of him being recognized and the two of you getting mobbed. Today he had invited you to his studio to listen to a preview of a new song for his mixtape. You were honored. You knew how special this place was to him and the fact that he trusted you enough to not only bring you here, but also let you hear a new song? You knew that day that he must be serious about you and it filled your heart with warmth.

You knocked on his door and he answered almost immediately, almost as if he was waiting for you.

“Were you waiting for me Min Yoongi?” You tease him and he blushes and scratches the back of his head.

“Um, maybe. I’m just really happy to see you.” He reaches his hand out and holds yours tightly and you squeeze it back. He leads you in to sit on the chair next to his own. “I ordered a pizza for us it should be here soon. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay with me! Thank you, Yoongi.” You smile at him and he offers a small smile back.

“Of course. That’s one of the things I really like about you is that you’re just so... agreeable. I love that from day 1 you were just okay having dates in and not needing to go anywhere fancy.”

“Of course not. You don’t need to impress me, Yoongi. I just like being with you.” Your smile grows as does his and you see him glancing at your lips. He moves in as if he’s going to kiss you before his phone rings from the delivery person notifying him of their arrival. He nearly jumps away from you, face bright red as he gets up to get the food for you two. When he comes back he sets it down on the desk.

“Well, you ready to listen to it?”

“I’d love to!” You listen to the song and immediately feel a whole slew of emotions hitting you. Sadness, initially, but then the melody moves to sound more hopeful. And like better days are coming. Even without lyrics, Yoongi somehow manages to portray the emotions of his song through the instruments alone. The song ends and you sit there for a few moment absorbing everything, He gets a little nervous thinking maybe you didn’t like it. He knew something was missing, and was hoping a fresh set of ears would help him know what was missing.

“So what do you think?”

“It’s amazing. Really I don’t even know what to say. You can really feel the emotions you are trying to show in the song and you can tell that you put your whole heart into it.”

“You don’t think there’s anything... missing? When I listen to it I think it just sounds off but I don’t know what it could be.” That surprises you. The fact that Yoongi genuinely wants your opinion and help when you have no idea about producing music.

“You want my input?”

“Yes. You’re really smart and I trust your judgment.” You feel your cheeks heating up and you ask him to play it again. You really listen this time and think you have an idea.

“Why don’t you add some piano here?”

“The middle bit here?”

“Yeah! Maybe like...” You hum a little part of a melody that seemed to get stuck in your head after listening to the song.

“Oh that actually is a great idea.” Yoongi pulls out his keyboard and plays the notes before adding it into the song. You watch him mixing and just can’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to kiss him. He’s so focused on his music, and so excited and passionate about it and you can’t help but hold so much admiration and respect in your heart for him. So you take a leap and lean in and kiss his cheek. Yoongi freezes, hand hovering over the keyboard as he turns to look at you. His face is bright red.

“Y-you just kissed me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because you looked adorable and you’re really passionate about your music and I just got an overwhelming urge to kiss you.”

“Do it again. But properly this time.” He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and brings you back in to plant a kiss on your lips. It’s over all too soon for your liking and you chase after his lips for another one. He playfully taps your lips with his finger. “We have plenty of time for that sweetheart, let’s not rush it okay? I want to take my time with you because I really like you. And to be honest this is all really new to me. I’ve never developed strong feelings for someone as quickly as I have for you and it scares me a little.” You kiss his cheek again instead.

“Okay, Yoongi. We’ll go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

“Thank you, angel.”

Lazy kisses

“Baby come on, you gotta get up! You’ve hit the snooze button 3 times and if I have to hear that god awful alarm you have one more time I am personally yanking you out of this bed.” Yoongi scolds. You groan loudly and turn your alarm off, but your eyes flutter closed again. “That’s it.” You feel a finger dig into your ribs and you yelp loudly and squirm away from him.

“Okay okay! I’ll get up...eventually.” You roll over onto your back and feel your eyes start to droop closed again. You are almost back in dream land when you feel your boyfriend’s lips on your own. Well that definitely wakes you up. You let your lips move slowly against his. You’ll never get tired of his kisses. You completely melt and soon Yoongi pulls away and practically collapses on top of you.

“I changed my mind you’re staying home today.”

“Yoongi I have to go to work.”

“I mean... you’re already going to be late can’t you just call off? Tell them you had car trouble?”

“I can’t lie to my boss!”

“Then I will for you.”

“Yoongi don’t-” But before you can stop him he has your phone out and is calling your boss. You can hear the conversation as he has it on speaker.

“Y/n! It’s almost time for you to be here is everything okay?”

“Ah this is Mister Min, from Min’s auto repair shop. Y/n’s car broke down on the way to work and we’re currently doing repairs. It could take a while so I don’t know that they’ll be able to make it in. They asked me to call you because they were afraid you wouldn’t believe them.”

“Oh goodness of course I would believe y/n! They’re one of my best employees. Tell y/n not to worry about it and just come in tomorrow! It’s no trouble.”

“Alright. Thank you ma’am.” He hangs up the phone and you immediately burst out laughing.

“Oh my god I can’t believe that worked!”

“I can’t believe it did either to be honest. But I am glad it did because now I can spend the whole day with you.” You smile and lay on your side to face him. Yoongi places his hand on your hip and scoots closer to you, connecting your lips again. He kisses you deeply, letting his lips linger there for a few moments before he pulls away.

“I could spend all day kissing you.”

“Well now you can. You got me for the whole day.” You say with a smile. Yoongi places a peck on your lips.

“Best day.”

Heated kisses

“Yoongi? Can you come here for a minute please? I need your opinion on something.”

“Sure thing, angel!”

The both of you had went shopping and you wanted Yoongi’s opinion on a pair of jeans you were trying on. Were you purposefully trying to tease him? Absolutely. You knew your butt looked amazing in them and you wanted to see his reaction. He knocks on the fitting room door and you open it, turning around and looking over your shoulder.

“So what do you think? Should I get the-” Before you can finish your sentence his hands are on your shoulders spinning you around and a firm kiss is placed on your lips. His lips moves against your own as he backs you further into the fitting room. He keeps walking until your back is against the mirror. You let out a gasp at the cold feeling of it against your arms and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and intertwine yours with his. His hands move to slip under your shirt and rest at your hips while yours immediately go to his hair and give a light tug, knowing that it drives him crazy in the best way. You feel his breath coming in quick pants as he moves from your mouth to ghost his lips down your neck before stopping at your collarbones. He bites it harshly and you know there’s going to be a mark there. Not that you mind. You love showing off the little bite marks he leaves on you.

He pulls away with a satisfied smirk on his face before diving back in to capture your lips again. You’re trying your best to be quiet so you don’t get caught but when he grinds his hips against yours a breathy moan escapes. He immediately pulls away. His hair is a mess from where you fingers were pulling at it, his lips are red and swollen and you’re certain you must be in the same condition. He offers you a small smile before reaching out and smoothing out your hair and straightening your shirt.

“Um... Sorry I kind of got a little carried away. I’ve been wanting to do that all day because you always look so sexy and beautiful but something about those pants just... yeah.” He’s blushing and unable to meet your gaze now and you can’t help but giggle.

“Feel free to get carried away whenever you want Yoongi if you’re going to kiss me like that. And I am definitely buying the pants.”

Sweet kisses

You two were laying in bed together watching a movie. But you didn’t notice Yoongi wasn’t watching the movie at all, his attention was fully on you. Every little facial expression, every time you smiled or laughed, he felt his heart flutter. You two had been together for a year now and still he got butterflies like the very first time he met you. He moves his hand across the bed and laces your fingers together. You finally turn to him and notice him staring at you with the fondest expression.

“Everything okay?”

You always asked him that. Always checking in just to let him know that you were always there for him and just wanted him to be happy. He appreciated it more than you know. He smilies to help calm your nerves.

“Yes everything is fine, my love. It’s just... you’re beautiful you know that?”

He’s told you this before but something feels different this time and it makes your cheeks flush.

“I think I’ve been told that a time or two.”

“Just by me though right?” A few chuckles escape you.

“Yes, Yoongi only by you. Well, only by you in a romantic way at least. The other members have too but you know they don’t mean anything by it.”

“Good. As they should tell you. Still can’t believe the most beautiful person in the world is actually mine.”

“Mmm I think you’re mistaking that’s you. And I won’t take any arguments for an answer.” He opens his mouth to protest but you quickly lean in and press a kiss to his lips instead. He immediately forgets what he was going to say as his mind and senses are suddenly filled with you. He pulls away to pepper kisses all over your cheeks, to your forehead, your eye lids, and tip of your nose and finally ending up at your lips again. He lingers there for a moment before he mumbles against your lips.

“Marry me.” You place your hands on his cheeks to pull his face away from you. You look into his eyes to see if he’s serious and he is.

“Are you for real? You really want to marry me?”

“Yes. I am being serious. Of course I want to marry you. I don’t want a big wedding with a ton of people there. I just want it to be me and you. We can have a ceremony later and invite all our friends and family but... for right now I don’t want to wait. I want you to be Min Y/n and I want to start our life together.” You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You don’t trust yourself to speak without bursting into tears so you just nod. The smile that you see on Yoongi’s face is what breaks you and finally allows a few tears to escape. He looks the happiest you’ve ever seen him, and knowing that just the thought of spending the rest of his life with you making him that happy makes you feel so many positive emotions at once they leak out in the form of tears. Yoongi is quick to kiss them all away, kissing your cheeks whenever one falls down your face until you’re smiling again.

“Okay. Let’s do it then. I don’t want to wait either. I already know I want to spend my forever with you.”

Wedding kiss

True to his word, a few days later here you were. Standing with Yoongi at the park where you two first met. It was night time, Yoongi had always said he wanted to marry you under the stars because he thought you looked beautiful and absolutely ethereal bathed in moonlight. He knew someone that was licensed to marry so after everything was in order you two immediately planned the day you would go. It was quite late, not a single soul was there and it felt like you three were the only people left in the world. You both didn’t dress up, wearing jeans and the comfiest sweaters you owned. Yoongi had insisted you wear his jacket because it was getting chilly outside. He was even wearing a beanie and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. He raises his eyebrow at you in question.

“It’s just... all of this is so very you. Very us. Eloping and getting married under the stars, no fancy clothes or rings. Just the two of us and our love for each other and the world at our feet.” Yoongi smiles at that and leans in to kiss you but the minister scolds him.

“No kissing until the vows!” You both look away sheepishly and giggle under your breaths.

“Alright I guess I’ll start then.” Yoongi says. “I write lyrics for a living and here I am at a loss for words and have no idea what to say. I’m just so happy that you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Like holy shit how did I manage to pull that one off. You’re perfect in every way and so so good to me. You stuck by me through all the bad times, and I know there were some really bad ones. But you never lost your temper with me, you were always patient and kind and supportive through everything so I guess just... thank you. Really. And I just love you. That’s really all there is to say.” You hear the nervousness but also the sincerity in his words so you give his hands a squeeze to help comfort him. “Um.. I know I didn’t bring a ring because this was all kind of fast but I am getting one for you. It’s just going to take a little while because I want it to be perfect but hopefully this will do for now.” He bends down and picks a small purple flower off the ground. The weather had only just started to get colder so some of the flowers were still blooming. He loops the stem around your finger and ties it together. It’s such a sweet thing for him to do and you can’t help but place a kiss on the back of his hand before saying your vows.

“Yoongi you’ve always known I’ve never needed grand gestures to show your love, or songs written about me although the ones you did write I absolutely adore and will cherish forever. I can see you love me in the way you look at me, in the way you take care of me and always make sure I am happy. When you tell me you love me, I hear the sincerity in your voice. And I can only hope in the time we’ve been together that I was able to give you just as much love to you as you’ve made me feel. And you’re right. The only thing really to say is that I love you.”

The minster claps his hand together. “Perfect! I now pronounce you both officially married. Go ahead and kiss y/n, Yoongi. And congratulations to the both of you.”

Yoongi wastes no time in tugging you towards him and finally connecting your lips. His hands cup your face and he kisses you so tenderly and gently, almost as if he’s afraid you’re going to break. You two stay like that for quite some time, although when he pulls away it still doesn’t feel like long enough.

“Holy shit we’re married.” He says with wide eye and surprise on his face. You giggle at his bewildered expression.

“Yes we are.”

“I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #yoongi reaction #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #bts headcanon #yoongi headcanon #min yoongi #suga

273 notes · View notes