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somber-sapphic · 1 year

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HIII IT'S ME OMG IM SO EXCITED COULD YOU POST THE NEW FIC ALL IN ONE PART??? CUZ I CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT EEEHHEHEH I LOVE LONG FICS ALSO IM KINDA NEW TO TUMBLR SO IDK HOW TO USE A LOT OF FEATURES AND THE ONLY WAY IVE FOUND TO MESSAGE PPL IS THE REQUEST PART LOL - 🦊

I'VE GOT YOU 🦊!! Sorry it took so long to upload, I thought of something else so I added and then had to edit that part :) I hope you enjoy!

Everything's Just Fine

You get sick and Emily is away with the team on a case. You were frustrated that you weren't able to help, so instead of resting you decided to do all of the paperwork that you could find. A great decision, right?

Word Count: 3k

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You sniffled and rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to focus on the pile of paperwork you were trying desperately to get through. Hotch had deemed you ‘too sick’ to go with them on the case, but he wasn’t there, leaving you to your own devices. You’d helped solve it by working through Garcia, who you had threatened into silence (in reality, you’d begged her to let you help and flashed the best puppy dog eyes you had) and your team would be home in three hours.

Penelope had agreed to stay silent, but only if you drank the gallons of tea she shoved down your throat. You were sure that she’d laced it with some sort of medication, so you just pretended to drink. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her attempts to coddle you, it was just that you didn’t want her to see you so vulnerable. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, it was embarrassing.

Your nose was running practically nonstop, your chest ached, you couldn’t stop shivering and every five seconds was filled with painful coughs or gross, wet sneezes. Every cough and sneeze tore through your already sore throat, making it feel like you had swallowed glass. The pressure in your sinuses made it feel like your head was about to burst. There was a good chance that the next fit of coughing would send your brain exploding out of your buzzing ears.

“Sweetie, that really doesn't sound good.” Penelope said, startling you after a particularly rough coughing fit that brought up a wad of mucus and left you seeing stars. You swallowed hard, a little disgusted with yourself, and forced a little smile onto your dry, cracked lips. Judging by her raised eyebrow, she didn’t believe whatever you were about to say next.

“I’m fine Garcia, just a little cold. Plus, they’ll be back soon.” You rasped, not realizing just how far gone your voice was until you had started to speak. It was a minor miracle that you had even gotten those two sentences out. You sniffed hard and coughed, turning your head into your elbow to avoid spreading your germs all over the innocent tech analyst.

“Uh-uh, no way. Come on, come lay in my office for a little while. I’ve got everything nice and cozy for when Reid has a migraine, it’ll be much nicer than sitting out here in the cold.” The blonde coaxed, her voice like butter. She was lulling you into a false sense of security, smiling kindly and offering you a space in her Batcave.

All you wanted to do was curl up and let out all of your stupid pent up emotions, you wanted to cry into the plethora of pillows that you knew she had and just fall asleep to escape all of the pain raging through your body. Every movement sent needles of agony through your bones, even your eyes hurt. You had forgotten that fevers could do that to a person.

“I’m almost done here, I’ll put my head down when I finish.” You ducked into your elbow with a barely stifled sneeze and lifted your head with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was humiliating, no one was supposed to see you sick. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a fucking FBI agent, FBI agent’s didn’t succumb to simple colds.

Penelope frowned and reached out to touch your cheek, rolling her eyes slightly when you slapped her hand away.

“I’m telling Emily. How do you think she’ll feel about all of this?” She gestured to your sickly appearance as if she hadn’t just threatened you as one would a toddler. You clenched your jaw, but parted your lips when you realized that your nose was too stuffed to breathe, and decided to just glare at her instead.

“Penelope Garcia. I am not a toddler, you are not my mother, you are not my girlfriend and my physical wellbeing is none of your fucking business. Leave. Me. Alone.” The hurt expression that flashed across her face made you feel guilty, but you just wanted her to go away. Everything about this was wrong, her being able to see you at your weakest point was ever worse.

“Alright, I’m going back to my office. Come find me if you need anything.” She murmured, bowing her head in understanding. You looked away, resurfacing to meet her gaze, you knew that if she said one more nice thing you’d probably break down. It would be so easy to just start crying. Or it would be if you had enough fluids left in your body to cry out.

Sniffling back tears you went back to your work, the words blurring through your tears and the general haze that came from what had to be a fever over 102 degrees. You could practically see the look on Emily’s face when she’d come back, the disappointment and concern written in the worry lines across her forehead. She worried too much, especially about you.

You scribbled your name at the bottom of the page inquiring about who was interrogated, accidentally scrawling your signature into the place where Hotch was supposed to sign. That was it. You were done. That was the straw that broke the exhausted, sick, miserable camel's back. You were absolutely done.

You stumbled up the stairs and into the first office you could find, intending to fall onto the couch where you would sleep until your girlfriend got home. She would be so disappointed in you. You made it halfway into what you assumed in your hazy mind was JJ’s office before falling to the floor, too dizzy to stay upright anymore.

Part of you thought to call out for Garcia as you lay on the uncomfortable tile, your cheek pressed on the rug. The world went black with one final gasping cough as you slipped into unconsciousness. That was nicer than being awake with the pain.

Unfortunately, unconsciousness was not exactly better. It was uncomfortable, too hot, sometimes too cold, like someone had dunked you in an ice bath which was then set on fire. Your disturbing, terrifying fever dreams were interrupted by a distant sound and the feather light touch of a hand on your shoulder. Both felt a mile away, but they saved you from the nightmares of being drowned in an icy ocean with no one to hear your screams.

“Y/n! Fuck, EMLIY! Get in here!” You clung to the voice, whimpering as you struggled to pull yourself out of the void. She must’ve noticed your struggle because the owner of the voice combed fingers through your hair, coaxing you into the real world.

“Hey, hey you. Can you open your eyes?” Sudden panic flooded over you and you shoved yourself away, ignoring the stars brewing in your eyes. For a moment you were pretty sure that you’d throw up, but you managed to curl yourself into the corner, cowering away from the touch.

Your breaths were harsh and painful, they probably sounded that way to the blonde as well. The world was blurring around you and standing wasn’t probably the best idea, but you were already halfway to your feet.

“Woah, Y/n,” JJ rushed toward you, raising her arms as you swayed, prepared to catch you. You pulled away again, trying to force out some semblance of words.

“Go!” You yelped, tears filling your eyes. Everything was spinning, the woman’s face warping and bending in your vision. Something slammed and you looked up to find another blurry faced woman rushing into the room, wearing the same expression.

“Y/L/N!” The second woman, Emily, barked, making you freeze. In different circumstances that tone would’ve sparked a flutter in your chest, but this was just scary. She raced to your side and grabbed your elbows, managing to keep you upright. You sniffled and met her chocolate brown eyes, searching for anything that could be construed as anger or unhappiness. All you saw was loving concern.

“Shit, you’re burning up. Honey, why?” The brunette breathed, cupping your cheeks with strong, soft hands. You whimpered in response, doing everything you could not to just fall into her arms.

“C-can you make t-the room stop s-spinning?” You managed, stumbling forward until your head bounced against her shoulder. Emily wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you over to the couch, murmuring gentle words that you couldn’t quite make out. Everything was fuzzy, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stay conscious.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you were sitting up against her and she was brushing the tears off of your cheeks. You didn’t fully understand what was happening, but you knew that she was holding you, providing you with the love that you had so desperately needed.

“Morgan, we’re going to need some help getting her to the car.” Emily murmured, stroking your hair as you leaned against her chest. Part of you was a bit concerned, the deal was no displays of romantic affection at work and here she was, holding you close, cuddling you like she would at home. This was bad. You were going to get fired.

You pushed her away, little whimpers building in your throat. You slid back onto the floor, confusion and anxiety flowing through your mind. She was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hands as she tried to fix whatever was happening in your mind.

“No, no no. No, They’ll be mad. They’ll be so mad.” You shook your head and pulled back, a harsh cough wracking your body. Your lungs were beginning to sound like crinkling wax paper, worrying everyone.

“Come on honey, please get off the floor. No ones mad, we just want to help.” She soothed, inching back so as not to startle you further. Not even you understood the back and forth of your mind, it was scary just how many things were happening and all you wanted was to be somewhere dark and quiet.

“Everything hurts…make it stop, please make it stop.” You begged, covering your ears, hiding from everything. It was odd, you were just so damn overwhelmed.

“Okay sweetie, alright. Breathe for me. It’s all going to be okay. Does it hurt when I do this?” She asked gently, probing at your arm. You had apparently bruised it when you’d fallen and it had quickly turned a dark purplish black color. You nodded slightly, removing yourself from your shell so that you could talk to her.

“We’re going to get you home and all cozy, but you’ve got to trust me. Will you let me?” Morgan and Hotch were in the room now, with Rossi hovering in the doorway. Penelope was attached to Morgan's arm, a panicked expression on her face. This was all because of you. It was both humiliating beyond belief and…almost wholesome?

“M’kay.” You finally whispered, your voice basically gone at this point. She gave you a small, caring smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Can Morgan carry you?” You were too tired to even consider fighting it. You wanted to be home and if that's what it took, that's what it took. Emily moved to the side and the man stepped forward, nearly blocking your view of her.

“Don’t leave me!” You yelped, grabbing for her hand. You refused to be away from her, no fucking way would she leave you alone again, it wasn’t happening. She clasped your fingers in hers and shushed you softly.

“I’m right here, he’s just going to pick you up and everything will be okay.” She was being so understanding, so wonderful. You loved her so damn much. You nodded again and allowed Morgan to hoist you into a bridal carry, your head falling on his chest; you were just too physically weak to hold it up anymore.

“Shit, Princess, your fever’s really high. Emily, you’ve gotta get that down.” He said, concern radiating in his words. She nodded quickly, still holding onto your hand. You glanced at Hotch as Morgan carried you out, disappointment shining in his eyes. Garcia looked mildly betrayed and you hated that you’d made her feel that way. You opened your mouth to say something, but she shut you up with a shake of her head.

“Just get better, lovely. I’ll be by with some soup and Disney movies tomorrow.” You smiled at her, your eyes slipping closed as exhaustion took over. You heard a murmur of ‘goodbyes’ and ‘feel better soons’ as you were whisked away by your friend and girlfriend, falling asleep with your head bouncing against Morgan’s chest.

When you woke up you were laying in your own bed, Emily grumbling softly as she tried to peel the sweat covered clothes off of your body. You whined softly at the touch, curling away from her icy hands. You sniffled thickly and pulled your knees to your chest, well aware that you were no longer wearing a shirt.

“Look who's up.” The brunette cooed, reaching up to stroke your fevered cheek. You squirmed again, utterly unhappy with how much being touched hurt you. All you wanted was cuddles from the woman you loved but her gentle touch caused you so much pain.

“My skin hurts.” You rasped, giving her a watery pout. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again, for what felt like the 10th time that day you were crying. You hated it, you hated your damn body and you wanted a hug.

“Okay love, we can get that taken care of. If you sit up for me I can get some medicine in you and get something much more comfortable on.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear. You shrugged, fully intending not to do anything. She rolled her eyes at your uncooperative behavior and lifted you into a sitting position, making you yelp in pain. She reared back at your pained sound, concern flooding her expression.

“I can’t it, it hurts too much!” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them to your chest. You held that position for probably fifteen minutes until you finally managed to cry yourself out and looked back up at Emily who had a broken expression on her face.

“How do I help?” She whispered, sounding as desperate as you felt. Your beautiful strong girlfriend was breaking just because you felt sick. You took a shaky, chest squeezing breath and forced yourself to calm down.

“Um…will y-you help me change…and then maybe hold me?” The profiler gave you a kind smile and nodded, reaching out to stroke your cheek again. This time it didn’t hurt so much, the contact actually felt quite nice.

It took a bit longer than either of you expected to get you changed, you were practically incapable of moving any of your limbs, meaning that she had to do all of the work. She did it without complaint, checking in every few moments to make sure that she wasn’t hurting you.

“Okay baby, take this really fast and we’ll get you some sleep.” You didn’t fight when she handed you the cap of blue medicine, well aware that the Nyquil and fever would take you out in minutes. The goop tasted absolutely awful, so bad that even with your poor sense of taste and smell it burned the back of your throat.

You coughed heavily into your blanket, a sound which made Emily’s face contort in worry. She patted your back as you hacked, helping you to release some of the mucus from your lungs.

“We’re going to the doctor tomorrow if that doesn’t sound better.” She determined after a few minutes of listening to your exhaustive breathing. You nodded in agreement, well aware that the cough was worse than it should be for a simple cold or mild flu.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” You asked, your body sagging as the medication sunk in. Emily slipped into the bed beside you, sitting a few feet away so as not to invade your personal space in a way that you weren't comfortable with. You hesitated a moment and looked over, feeling suddenly shy.

“Um…will you hold me? Maybe? P-please…” She smiled kindly and pulled you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest as the two of you snuggled under the covers. You stifled a sneeze, but she just made a worried sound and kissed the top of your head

“Don’t worry about that. Just sleep, okay? I’m right here, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” You sniffled quietly and grabbed the fabric of her shirt, grateful for her saying that. Fevers always made you edgy, but she had this way of fixing it every single time. She was your rock. She never failed to make you feel better, even at your worst times.

“Love you Em.” You mumbled, your words slurred by sleep.

“I love you too Y/n/n. Now hush, sleeping time.” Never one to disobey an order from your girlfriend, you closed your eyes, falling into a warm void of unconsciousness in the arms of the woman you were in love with.

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yunholuvrr · 10 months

Text

we all need love chapter 4.

chapter summary: one rude text and a few too many drinks ruin your night

pairing: yunho x reader

genre: workplace au, ateez ensemble, fluff, romance, angst, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

warnings: queerphobia, shitty friends, short descriptions of anxiety, drinking, let me know if i should add anything!

word count: 2.6k

note: reader's old friends r pretty shitty but if u r queer / polyam i love u i just want u to know that. also another short chapter but i promise more is on the way >.< and im addicted to writing groupchat!ateez

(previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist)

Niya let out a haughty laugh, “that’s seriously why you gathered us here, y/n?” Alex and Ray took her lead, the group slowly devolving into a fit of chuckling and knee slapping.

“I just wanted to be transparent with you guys, you’re my closest friends,” you glared, confused. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had to come out to someone about something, and it was a better reaction than your family, but it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Okay but isn’t that basically, like, cheating?” Alex calmed himself first, but he still wasn’t taking you seriously. “Like who would agree to that?”

“A lot of people are in polyamorous relationships. I’ve been reading a lot and it sounds like what I want right now,” you let out with a frustrated groan.

“Certainly not breaking the stereotype that bi people are promiscuous,” Ray chimed in.

Niya takes a sip of water and clears her throat. She was never very affectionate with you, but you thought she’d at least understand how serious this was. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Look, I’m glad you think of us as people who would care about that, but after what happened with Sarah I can’t really take you seriously. You cheated on her and then looked up how you could justify it.”

“I what?” you almost yelled. The tears wasted no time breaking past your eyelashes and onto your cheeks. “Is she really telling people I cheated on her?”

“I mean you would argue all the time and even talked about seeing other people with her. It’s no wonder she left.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Sarah asked you out within the first week of freshman year and you hit it off really well. But ever since junior year started, you’ve felt suffocated. You didn’t want to depend on her for everything and you certainly didn’t want her to depend on you that much. Not that she did.

You had brought up the idea of polyamory, that maybe what you needed was different people for different needs. You didn’t even have anyone in mind, it was just something you wanted to be transparent about. But she was disgusted with you. You thought breaking up with you was enough, so why did she have to twist the truth? And why were your friends believing her over you?

“I can’t believe you guys are taking her side. During what was supposed to be a vulnerable moment for me.”

Alex just chuckles, “you’re being so dramatic right now, there are no sides. Let’s go get dinner and call it a night.”

Ray agrees, “it’s not that serious to us, trust me. Leave your ex in the past y/n.”

You stare into the bathroom mirror, trying to decide if the heart hair clips you just put in are too cutesy for a friendly get together. Who are you trying to impress? Yunho doesn’t care. That doesn’t stop you from putting on a full face of makeup and a cute dress, something you can’t wear to work. You don’t wanna drink too much tonight, either, you have appearances to keep. Of course none of this matters to any of them. But it matters to the small part of your brain that still thinks you have a shot with him.

[Alex] any plans this weekend, y/n?

[Ray] how’s the dating scene over there?

Two short buzzes vibrate through the countertop and you pick your phone up, assuming it's the boys.

[Niya] she prob cant find anyone to group date with LOL

You can’t believe your eyes. The last time you talked to them was to announce your internship, and they congratulated you, but not much else. Ever since you tried to open up to them, they haven’t really talked to you much. You assumed they had a different group chat to talk, and maybe this was some form of entertainment for them.

i have a party to go to in about 20 minutes lolol

no dates just really nice friends

You try your best to play along, to not be passive aggressive with them. But you feel hot tears start to swell and threaten your makeup.

[Niya] don’t break anyone’s heart this summer

Her message is the last thing you see before turning on Do Not Disturb and putting a playlist on full volume. Niya’s right. This isn’t the time to explore what your heart wants. Your heart has only ever gotten you into trouble. You can’t help but play out what breaking up with Yunho would look like. It feels crazy thinking about dumping someone you’re not even dating. But it’s the only way to curb your feelings for him. You leave in 11 weeks.

San’s apartment complex was only a few blocks away from your own, so you told Yunho you could walk there yourself. He still offered to meet you at the entrance and walk you back home at night. He assured you it wouldn’t be a burden because he lives in the same complex as San, just on a different floor. Half of them live in this building, in fact, and you find that cute for some reason. The inseparable eight men.

These are the kinds of thoughts that pass through your mind as you make your way down the street to the address Yunho sent. Except you don’t quite remember it, and when you check your phone again you realize you never turned DND off. Three missed calls and some amount of texts from Wooyoung that you don’t even want to count.

[Jung Wooyoung] If you don’t pick up soon i’m filing a missing person report

[Jung Wooyoung] I knew we should’ve had it at my place

[Choi Jongho] Your place is even farther what are you talking about??

[Song Mingi] i have this chat on mute too, i don’t blame her

[Jeong Yunho] Yeah and I have to tell you everything twice you ass

[Jeong Yunho] I’ll be waiting at the entrance, so just look for me y/n

[Kim Hongjoong] how romantic of you

[Jeong Yunho] Shut up

Before you can type a reply, a voice calls you over across the street. Your eyes shoot up and meet Yunho’s, visible relief on his face. He’s standing outside a tall, fancy looking building, and you wonder just how much his rent is.

“Sorry!” you wave, jogging over. “I turned on DND so I could focus on getting ready and I guess I forgot to-”

“I’m glad you made it,” he took both your hands in his and smiled, “you look nice!”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if I overdressed,” you shake your head nervously.

“No, no, I like it. I would’ve liked whatever you wore.”

“Thank you,” you watch as his ears grow redder than a strawberry and he turns to head inside.

[Jeong Yunho] She’s in safe hands!

[Jung Wooyoung] Very big hands too

[Choi San] What.

What??

[Choi San] Anyway I left the door unlocked!

[Park Seonghwa] Can we crack open the drinks now

[Choi Jongho] You cant drink

The elevator ride up is comfortable silence as you text the boys. After the last hour of messages, you feel like maybe a drink or two will fix your problems after all. And when you make your way through San’s front door and see Seonghwa already red in the face, you know you won’t be out of place.

“Who wants to play a drinking game?” Jongho announces to the group, which forms a semicircle across the couches of San’s living room. His place is nice, mostly black furniture and accents, recently renovated. The living room and kitchen were only separated by a small counter, and there was a short hallway that led to what you assumed were his bedroom and bathroom.

“Can you let me finish the food first! My god,” you hear Wooyoung complain from in front of the stove.

“Knock knock,” Yunho announces your presence, clearly not noticed by anyone yet.

“You made it!” Mingi jumps up from his seat first, “I was scared Yunho would keep you to himself.”

You can’t even process what that could’ve meant before everyone showers you in compliments. “Your dress is so nice!” San greets you with a hug, ushering you into the main area.

“y/n! I’m making beef and I’m forcing you to eat some! No arguing!” Woo calls again from the kitchen.

“Sorry for worrying you guys, I wasn’t paying attention,” you take a seat next to Seonghwa and Yunho follows, telling the older man to move over some.

“Don’t worry about it, Wooyoung just gets anxious,” Hongjoong chimes in, giving you a wide smile. The alcohol seems to be warming his cheeks already.

“Here,” Hwa passes you an unopened beer and gets you ready for whatever game Jongho has lined up. Yunho picks up a glass of water from the table and snakes an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re not gonna drink?” You glance over, trying to hide the shock at the sudden contact.

“I probably will later,” he clinks his glass against your bottle playfully, “I’m not as easy as Hwa, don’t worry.”

An hour and a dozen drinking games later, it starts to hit you. The drinks already left you feeling warm and tired, but the lull in conversation gives you a second to think. The messages from your friends back home come flooding back, and they make you nauseous. Or maybe it was the bottle in your hand you definitely shouldn’t have opened. Either way, you lean further into Yunho’s chest, who hasn’t moved all night.

“You feeling okay?” he mumbles.

Wooyoung suddenly stands up to announce his need for the bathroom, Yeosang is asking for another drink, and Mingi is clinging to Jongho, begging for attention. The scene in front of you looks like you had a good time, so why is anxiety bubbling up inside of you?

You don’t respond and Yunho tries again, “are you able to get up? Do you need help?”

Maybe that’s why he didn’t drink today.

You mumble something and try to stand, but you fall back into him. “This is pathetic,” you accidentally say out loud.

“No, no, it’s alright. You just need some water.”

“Don’t leave.” You don’t know who you’re talking to at that moment. You tug on Yunho’s arm, but in your head you’re standing in front of your friends, Sarah, your family.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles and keeps an arm around you, gently patting your head, “not without you.” You feel yourself exhale slowly and close your eyes. Someone asks if you’re okay, but you can’t make out who over the fuzz.

“I’m just gonna take her downstairs where it’s quiet, get her some water and food.”

“Did we do something wrong?”

“You did play a lot of games didn’t you?”

“I think she just drank a bit too much, I’m sure Yunho will take care of her.”

“It’s fun to tease him for once about something. He’s whipped.”

“Next time let’s go easy on the drinks, yeah?”

When you wake up, it’s not in the same room. It’s a similar layout, but the couch is dark blue and there’s a wooden coffee table in front of you. You focus your eyes a bit more and realize Yunho is sitting across from you in a matching chair. Fuck.

“How long have I been out for?”

“It’s only been like half an hour,” relief washes over his face and he moves to sit next to you, “but I was worried. I carried you down to my apartment so you’d have some space and silence.”

“Thanks,” you sit up and stretch.

“You should have some water and snacks if you can stomach it,” Yunho gestures to the table, and you immediately pick up a glass. You no longer feel nauseous, but everything’s still a bit fuzzy and Niya’s words keep replaying in your head. Niya.

“Did something happen earlier?” he tries.

“Did I say something while I was out?”

“No, but you usually don’t have DND on. And you don’t seem like the type to drink too much on the first weekend you’re here, but I might be wrong,” he chuckles and places a hand on your knee.

“I don’t think I should be telling you all this a week into our friendship,” you take another sip hoping it will clear your head. You’re dangerously close to spilling everything to him.

“I’m really good at listening.”

Fuck.

You cross your legs and turn to face him on the couch and he mirrors you, “I just don’t know where to begin. My friends hate me, I think.”

“Did they say something to you?”

“They just keep teasing me about things that I don’t really think are things you should tease friends about. I mean it’s not my fault I like people so easily.” There’s no turning back now, you’re still not sober, but you’re angry and your heart’s racing.

He caresses your shoulder and lets you continue, “I mean I promised myself I wouldn’t date anyone this summer because I’d never see them again, ya know? I’m trying to be responsible. But Woo … Woo said he wants me to loosen up and I think he’s right. Why do my friends get to decide how much I sleep around? Why do they get to bully me into being alone? I’m so embarrassed to even have crushes and for what?”

You curl into him then, and he starts patting your hair. “These people don’t really sound like your friends, y/n.”

“I wish they weren’t,” you mumble between labored breaths. You don’t want him to see you cry over something so stupid. You're so far out of your mind right now.

“They don’t have to be.”

“But then I’d have no one.” It’s something you never admitted out loud before. You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the comfort of the man next to you or if you’re finally just breaking, but it all comes out. “You all are the best friends I’ve had in a while and it’s so pathetic to say because I’ve only known you for a week. You’re all so smart and nice and funny and pretty as fuck. You all have nice jobs and nice apartments, you’ll probably all get nice partners too and live happy lives together like the perfect friend group you are. I just wish that was me.”

Yunho’s face is some combination of confusion and pity. You didn’t really say enough for him to understand the full weight of the situation, and he's trying not to think about just how close you are, but he feels bad. He doesn’t have anything to say, he just lets you wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest. His hand runs along your back and his heart beats steadily against your ear, and you feel tired again. If you were sober, you'd feel like a big baby. But under the haze of the drinks and tears and the warmth radiating from his body, you doze off.

[Jeong Yunho] She’s exhausted but she’ll be okay

[Jeong Yunho] I’m gonna let her sleep here for tonight

[Song Mingi] with you??

[Jeong Yunho] I’m obviously sleeping on the couch ????

[Choi Jongho] Did something happen? Just tired?

[Jeong Yunho] Long week

[Jung Wooyoung] Aww she’s an emotional drunk

[Jung Wooyoung] Good thing she has a big strong man like you

[Kang Yeosang] Shut up

[Choi Jongho] Congrats you said something so annoying Yeo had to step in

[Jung Wooyoung] It was just a joke ! love you y/n ~

[Kang Yeosang] I hope you get a good rest y/n you’re always welcome back

[Kim Hongjoong] we’ll go easy on the drinks next time

[Jung Wooyoung] She’s probably passed out just like San LOL

(previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist)

#yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez series #we all need love fic #yunho series #yunho angst

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bultaoreunheyyy · 11 months

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You are so pretty, has anyone told you that tonight? Because they should. Because you’re pretty. Everyone I know agrees.

Okay I have no idea if this counts as a juicy prompt lol. Please ignore if it’s weird I’m embarrassed lol. I saw another tumblr post, that I can’t for the life of me find anymore, about like mistaking sneeze/nose rubbing sounds for something else. I’m kind of in a Jimin mood but literally anyone would be good for this, I’m not picky. So it’s night time and Jungkook can’t sleep, so he goes to seek out one of his hyungs and he ends up crawling into Jimin’s bed. Jimin is half asleep but welcomes him into his bed. Jungkook finally gets comfortable and is starting to fall asleep when he feels the bed moving a little, and then hears this...squelching, rubbing sound…what is Jimin *doing*? And then Jimin is making these breathy sounds and Jungkook is scandalized because is Jimin really getting off next to him in the bed? But then Jimin starts to sneeze and it turns out he was just trying to hold it back/be quiet.

NO, YOU'RE PRETTY ANON

Thank you for this, it was fun to write! Don't be embarrassed hehe:)

Title: Did you hear that?

Word Count: 1,540

Jungkook can’t sleep.

He rolls over to look at the clock for what feels like the third time in less than an hour. He’s not too far off, unfortunately, because it’s nearly 3 a.m. and the last time he looked it was 2:47 a.m. and he just. Can’t. Fucking. Sleep.

He feels like he’s so tired that he’s past the point of being able to fall asleep. It’s making him feel beyond irritated, and tears prickle behind his eyes. He heaves a sigh of frustration, rolling onto his back, and he stares up at the ceiling and digs a fist into his right eye, then his left. After, he lets his arm spread out to his sides, and the bed feels too big. Too empty. Too hot and too cold at the same time. Uncomfortable.

It might be that he’s feeling a bit lonely, a bit unsettled, and he’s not really sure why. Most nights, he’s happy to have his own room. Tonight, though, as the time drags by, he’s realizing that he’s craving some comfort, even just the sound of someone else sleeping next to him.

He needs a hyung and he needs them now.

As soon as he has the thought, Jungkook is up and out of bed, padding out of his room and down the hallway. In the living room, he’s surprised to see Hoseok and Yoongi on the couch, fast asleep, their faces illuminated by the TV. He thinks about stopping there, waking them and dragging one of them back to bed with him, but then he realizes that if Hoseok is out here, that means Jimin is alone in their room, and so he hurries in that direction.

Jungkook tries to be quiet as he pushes Jimin’s door open, but the second he steps inside he can hear Jimin stirring.

“Hmm?” Comes Jimin’s sleepy voice, low and gravelly from sleep.

“It’s just me,” Jungkook whispers, pausing at the edge of Jimin’s bed. “Can I sleep in here?”

All he gets in response from Jimin is a soft, sleepy hum, so he crawls under the covers and slides down until he’s on his back. He doesn’t dare try scooting closer in case he wakes Jimin up all the way, but he doesn’t need to be touching Jimin. Just his proximity and the sound of Jimin’s breathing is already enough to have him feeling less unsettled, and he closes his eyes and breathes out a slow, relieved sigh. After a moment, he turns over so he’s on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms, face turned away from Jimin.

He can feel when his body finally starts to relax and his mind finally quiets down, and he knows sleep is finally within reach. He stretches his legs out, toes digging into the bed as his feet arch, and then he relaxes all of his muscles, letting himself fully sink into the bed.

He’s on the very edge of falling asleep when he hears a sound that brings him a little closer to unconsciousness, and he almost whines. The sound is like a soft whisper, and a moment later he hears a sharp, muffled intake of air followed by the sound of something soft being rubbed against something else soft, and then a squelching sound that reminds him of someone sucking liquid through a straw. It’s an odd combination of noises, and his brain is torn between trying to decipher what they are and falling asleep– he leans toward the side that wants sleep, forcing himself to sink back into that sleepy, warm feeling he has been so close to just minutes before.

But then, just when he’s close to drifting off again, Jimin makes another noise.

“Hhh…hhhh…” The tiny, breathy sounds that fill the air are a little louder this time. Jungkook buries his face into his folded arms and tries to drown them out. He waits, only half-listening, and then lets himself relax again.

“Oh! Oh-fuck…” The words are whispered so quietly that Jungkook can barely hear them, but then Jimin is breathing heavily again, panting out tiny little exhales and and Jungkook suddenly finds himself blushing furiously in realization. Oh no. Jimin thinks he’s asleep. He’s going to get himself off, even with Jungkook right next to him in the bed, and Jungkook is frozen, unable to do anything.

“Hh-! Hh’hhh…”

This is bad. This is very bad. Jungkook is debating whether or not he should move or make some kind of noise to indicate he’s awake when he hears the squelching sound again. He can’t hear this sound, won’t be able to get this sound out of his head now, and then Jimin is gasping– a shaky, out of control sound, full of desperation and fuck, no, this can’t be happening, this can’t–

“ngxsht! HH’gtshch! uhh’GXTSHH! F-fuck!”

“Wha’?” Jungkook jerks his head up and turns to look at Jimin, thoroughly startled and confused.

“Sorry, fuck, sorry,” Jimin apologizes, breathless.

There’s a loud thump and then Jimin curses some more as he fumbles with something on his nightstand. He turns a lamp on and Jungkook blinks, squinting against the sudden light. As his vision adjusts, he sees that Jimin is struggling to pull a tissue from a box on his nightstand.

“I’mb so sorry, Kookie,” Jimin says, nose all stuffed up. “I was tryi’g so hard dot to sndeeze and wake you up.” He reaches up and rubs his nose with the palm of his hand, moving it in small circles, the motion making a wet, squelching sound, and– oh. Oh.

Jungkook has never been so relieved to hear someone rubbing their nose in his life.

When Jimin pulls his hand away, his face is all scrunched up in irritation and his nose is very red. He finally frees a tissue from the box but he just holds it out in front of him, nose twitching.

“Mby ndose is so itchy.” Jimin says, punctuating it with with a shiver that seems to be cause by said itchy nose, because as the shiver runs through him he quickly brings his free hand back up to his face, the knuckle of his forefinger coming up to rest just under his nose as his nostrils flare. “Like, there’s this…this…hhh…oh, fuck mbe.”

Jimin shivers again. As he talks, he’s alternating between brushing his finger very lightly back and forth under his nose, almost like he’s trying to coax another sneeze out, and pressing his knuckle hard against his septum like he’s trying not to sneeze again. The result is that he’s left in some kind of torturous period between sneezes, tears leaking from the corner of eyes and his nose growing redder by the second.

“There’s this t-tickle and it wod’t leave…leave…wod’t l-le-ehhh…leave mbe alode!”

He rushes to finish his sentence, just barely getting the words out before he snaps forward with another trio of sneezes.

“Huhh-ptchsh! hngxt! HNGTSH’ehh!”

He’s still holding the tissue out in front of him, but the relentless tickle is occupying his every last thought, it seems, because he doesn’t actually move it to his nose. Jungkook thinks about doing it for him, but then Jimin is blinking at him, eyes teary, mumbling another apology.

“Hyung,” Jungkook sighs. He’s still reeling from the crisis he just went through. “Are you getting sick?”

“ngxsht’uh!”

Even with how tiny and suppressed Jimin’s sneezes are, they sound so forceful, like it’s taking a lot out of Jimin to restrain them the way he often does.

“It kinda sounds like–”

“htchsh!”

“It sounds like you are–”

“HNGXT’shuh!”

Jungkook sighs again and finally reaches over, putting his hand under Jimin’s elbow and guiding his arm up until he gets the message and presses the tissue to his nose. He chuckles to himself– he knows better than to think he can get a word in like that when Jimin always sneezes in threes.

“I think you’re coming down with a cold or something, hyung,” he says as Jimin scrubs at his nose with the tissue.

Jimin looks over at Jungkook then with an odd look on his face. “Wait…what are you doi’g ind here, Kookie?”

Jungkook lies back down, settling on his back and pulling the covers to his chin.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says. “I just…didn’t want to be alone.”

Jimin deposits his used tissue on the nightstand and grabs another one from the box before lying on his side to face Jungkook. “You probably wod’t be able to sleep addy better ind here. I dod’t d’ow why I keep sndeezing but it…I…it…ohh…”

Jungkook scoots over a little so he’s more out of range, and Jimin buries his nose into the tissue in his hand.

“hngxt! Hh’gtshch! ptchsh’iew!”

“Sneeze all you need to, hyung. I can sleep through it. As long as that’s all you’re doing…”

Thankfully, Jimin doesn’t ask him what he means by that– he’s too busy gearing up to sneeze yet again. Jungkook smiles and rolls over to face the other direction. He knows he’ll end up on his stomach again, or probably smushed up against Jimin’s side, but for now he closes his eyes and tunes out the noisiness of his sneezy hyung out so that he can finally drift off to sleep.

#bts sickfic #bts snz #sick jimin #caretaker jungkook

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hay1ock · 7 months

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Pain for you. And pain for you. Pain for everybody.

Only Friends Episode 8 was a mess and I appreciate that lol.

Where to even start? These characters do be playing up this week.

I think I’ll start easy with Nick, who only got a couple of significant scenes this episode. Firstly, how freaking adorable was he as Detective Conan? (To be fair everybody looked amazing in their costumes) The glasses and hair and his little bow tie. He was super cute and you’d never think he’d be out here bugging cars lol. But yeah, before party time we get a scene and are introduced to Papang’s character, Dan. A senior, so a handful of years older, who’s offering him a job. I hate to say it, I already feel like Nick’s heading for more problems if he does end up pursuing a relationship. Firstly, he’s his boss, which is fine-ish, it will just depend on the power dynamics between them. And then how those dynamics translate to the Daddy Dan stuff we see in the preview. I was just wary of Dan saying there were ‘lots of issues’ with his previous relationship, so whether being called Daddy means he’s into dom/sub stuff and his other partner wasn’t… I guess we’ll have to see, and if that is the case, whether that’s something Nick is interested in exploring.

In terms of him and Boston this episode. Nick, baby, you really need to let it go. I felt bad for him as he happily chatted away about getting a position at the animation company. But I understand why Boston is doubly pissed at him now what with Mew getting hold of Gap’s recording. And as much as I hate agreeing with Boston, he is right, it’s not really Nick’s place to judge him, especially in light of his own actions regarding the wiretap. Also, I enjoy his continued friendship with Sand. I’m glad they were able to makeup and stay friends after Sand’s betrayal of trust.

Boston was also pretty straightforward this episode. He was mostly just minding his own business with a side of irritating Top. Their scene made me chuckle but knew as soon as they were together they’d end up getting spotted by Mew. The fact Boston was looking at the photo of him and Nick this episode is interesting. I don’t know if it’s ‘feelings’ as such for Nick, but maybe he kind of misses him as they had been spending a lot of time together. Whether anything else happens between them, I’m not sure. It seems both Nick and Boston will be exploring new people. Oh Atom. I can’t decide if he’s going to end up being Nick 2.0 or if it is casual curiosity about his sexuality and men. Boston wouldn’t be the worst person to explore that if feelings stay out of it. It’ll be interesting what goes on between them. Also, as a part-time Cheum non-appreciator (sorry Cheum fans) I enjoyed Boston getting back at her a little at the pool side.

And so onto the mess that is Ray and Mew and Top and Sand.

Back to the beginning of the episode. I find the Ray and Mew dynamic really sad. As much as I would love for them to work out, the truth is, in their current states, they’re bad for each other. Where before Mew was a light, someone who could, to a limited degree, lift Ray up and help in keeping a handle on things, now Mew is spiralling down to meet him. Heartbreak and betrayal can make people act out so I can understand Mew’s desire to be someone else for a little while. Being a ‘good’ boy got him nothing good. It’s interesting to me how his style in clothes and obviously the vices he’s trying are very Ray-ish in particular. I suppose his only other immediate blueprint would be Boston, and sex with just anyone probably isn’t as easy for someone like Mew.

I wonder if Ray would have been as forthcoming with meeting Mew’s requests if Mew hadn’t thrown out the possibility of them getting together? If Ray had stayed firmly in the friend zone would he have been able to hold back, try and support Mew via other means? As it is, Mew has offered him a chance to be with him. Personally, I don’t think they’re together together, more in some strange pre-boyfriend trial period like Top was put into. He’s flirting with the idea, trying to view Ray and their relationship through a different lens. Mew keeps saying he should love him, not that he does. He’s probably not ready to be in another relationship straight away and I would like to think that maybe Mew is aware enough of his feelings (or lack of) to keep Ray at a distance. Like he knows it won’t work out and maybe this way they can avoid too much hurt when the party inevitably ends - at least when he’s thinking clearer and not high and drunk.

Ray is kind of stuck in this place of wanting to please Mew and going along with everything. And it doesn’t help that Ray’s unable to admit he himself has a problem where drink and drugs are concerned, that he needs help, so we can’t expect him to be able to make a rational decision on someone else’s behalf (though he did query the cigarette at first).

Mew right now, isn’t the person Ray fell in love with. I don’t want to say he is using Ray but it’s hard to ignore that he is at some points - as an escape/distraction, as a way to get access to and indulge in bad habits, and as a way to get back at Top. The way he wouldn’t kiss Ray in private but would in front of Top.

Talking of Top, I’m kind of proud he was able to stay calm and not slap Mew when he ended up with a face full of drink. He’s a better person than me lol. But then to stand any chance of getting Mew back, he needs to let himself be Mew’s punching bag. He needs to take all the hurtful words and actions and hope at some point there can be some forgiveness. Again, I have no idea what I would do in Mew’s situation. I feel like it’s possible he could take Top back (I mean it’s classed as a BL right? So, chances are they’ll come back together by ep 12 unless there’s a 2nd Season or something). He clearly still has feelings for Top, thinking about him at the bookstore and his little ‘why’d you have to be an asshole’ and sad eyes while sat on the kitchen floor. And it’s also apparent Top fell for Mew and regrets sleeping with Boston. However, I’m still wary of him because of certain behaviours of his in earlier episodes. The Boston thing was shitty, but there was a degree of manipulation and misinformation from Boston. Top just ended up being weak and did something incredibly stupid there was no way of taking back. It’s some of the more possessive type behaviours that bother me, though honestly, Mew isn’t exactly a pushover so maybe I need to start forgiving Top a little bit too… that is assuming him having an envelope full of money ready to hand over was pure coincidence *narrows eyes*. I’m glad he bailed Ray out but I can’t help but keep being suspicious of Top. Like what was his little glance and expression after handing over the bribe? Just him being all shady because he’s bribing a policeman, or some smug ‘you owe me’, or satisfied with himself because it was all part of a plan? I dunno. Top’s expressions are often hard for me to read to be honest, I want to start thinking well of him, but guess we’ll find out soon enough if there was anything more to the situation with the cops than an unfortunate (and fortunate in the end for Ray) series of events.

The last scene between Top and Mew got me feeling two ways. One, I think it was incredibly sweet and responsible of him that he took care of Mew. But, two, as much as a hug can be great and comforting, I feel he crossed a boundary by snuggling up to a passed out Mew, considering they are currently not together. I don’t know if we’ll see Mew waking up trouserless and in Top’s arms and get a reaction, or if Top will have moved away from him/left, or skip past all that (seems Boston and Atom scene is a continuation of the same night in the preview). But yeah, I know he loves and misses him and is probably struggling with his insomnia/trauma now he’s alone - maybe that’s why he seems a bit more subdued because of lack of sleep - I hope he hasn’t returned to drugs or even abusing the (what I assume were) prescription ones. I just think in that moment he should have kept to doing only what was necessary in caring for Mew - stick him in the recovery position in case he pukes again and watch over him from afar or at least the other side of the bed.

And continuing the whole crossing boundaries, let’s hop back to the start again and Ray and Sand. That first scene between them outside the bar got me in the feels. I felt so bad for Ray as the hope fell from his face about them remaining friends. He was losing what had become his happiness and relief from the shitty on repeat cycle that had been his life. I get why Sand is doing it and certainly feel bad for him here too. Like I said, I don’t feel like Mew and Ray are anywhere close to claiming to be together, more testing the waters and as Ray said, Mew had let him step out of the friend zone. It really felt like he was saying ‘unlike you and me’ to Sand. I’m not ignoring Sand’s feelings, I’m all for him cutting ties with people or things that cause him pain. He’s doing it for his own benefit, and because of his ex he does his best to guard his heart, it just sucks that in doing so and keeping (or more like struggling to keep) Ray at a distance at every chance meant Ray’s feelings never got a chance to move on properly from Mew. I believe he was trying to until things got shook up by Boston and then Sand’s own desire for revenge on Top. Ray, even up to this point, is the one to ask of Sand is okay, if he’s okay with their ‘friendship’ and Sand always claimed to be, shutting down the chance of any kind of conversation about the possibility of anything beyond ‘friends’ - emergency staff, friend, fellow human being, nothing to do with me, I care about you and so does your dad. I feel bad that they never got a chance to explore things properly and god the ‘Let me go already’ line cut deep. (The preview gives me hope that Sand might use all his words this next episode - but shall wait for all the context as wouldn’t mind a proper clarification on where Ray and Mew stand with each other if things were to happen between Ray and Sand).

The Plug and Yo situation go me all, nooooo. I would say it was nice to get a scene from them but why’d it have to be this one? Well, I know why in terms of mirroring feelings and stuff with our main couples. It did hurt though, and apparently, made Ray forget that Sand was trying to step away as he turns up at the music room. Sand is the one Ray wants to tell about his day in court. Honestly, it’s kind of like a little kid excited to tell their parents what they got up to at school that day. Ray upped his ‘na na na’ game with cute little knee pokes. I’m a weak woman, he had me at the first poke. I saw Sand smile though lol. I know there was some behind the scenes stuff posted by staff that had kids, so wonder if we’ll see them carrying out the community service together. We ended on Sand’s little dunno/whatever shrug lol.

And so, we’re back at the party. I started off feeling bad for Ray over all the Mew stuff. He’d gone along with the cigarette early, the party and what I can only assume is Mew wanting to try drugs. In a way it’s probably better Mew do it with Ray and in a reasonably safe place if he’s insisting on trying all these new things. Ray, I assume, knows to a degree what he’s doing with the drugs and was there to check Mew was okay, at least at the start of the party. It was clear by Mew’s face he didn’t feel enough for Ray to want to kiss him. Ray’s hope though was reignited slightly when Mew took hold of his hand and led him down to the party. Drink and drugs kicking in and the appearance of Top and well… once more feeling bad for Ray. Mew stating he only cares about himself now then kissing Ray in front of Top… ugh. Everybody is hurting and then going on to hurt other people. I’m kind of hoping this’ll be Mew’s lowest point and he can start building himself back up next episode, but I don’t know considering the preview. He doesn’t seem to be out with Ray and being hit on by someone and then seems Top took a page from Ray’s book this episode in regards to cockblocking Mew lol. It’s all good fun.

And then yeah, Sand and Freddie. The guy seemed really sweet actually. Also, being bi, it was nice to hear Sand say he was too. But then in barrels coked up, drink in hand Ray. Wasn’t feeling bad for him at this point as he had no right to do what he did to Sand. I get he’s high, confused as hell about his feelings for Mew and Sand, not at all satisfied with his situation with Mew who seemingly kissed him and vanished as Ray is all alone and Mew is later. Once again, but not to the same erratic degree as the birthday party, fuelled by drugs and drink, Ray got mean and was lashing out. That’s a reason, but not a justification. He did wrong and I’m glad Sand told him so. Sand is capable of saying no. Up to now, I believe he’s given in because he wanted to and Mew hadn’t been in the picture beyond Ray’s lingering feelings. The current situation with everybody though, no, I agree with Sand wanting to put his foot down, no matter how much I want them to find a way to be together happy.

What happens between them is up to them. Some people are not built to deal with people with mental health issues or addiction. Sand can’t stop caring, and when the police arrive his first thought is to find Ray despite what went down. I can understand that. Having woken to a tirade of abusive messages from someone I knew who was an alcoholic, past my initial surprise and trying to work out what I’d done to deserve such messages, I was very much concerned and wanted to make sure they were okay. Though I relate to Ray a lot, I also share some of Sand’s traits when wanting to take care of others, even above taking care of myself at times.

That scene with the cops though. I’ve seen enough news reports about what can happen and seeing a knee on Ray’s neck and Sand calling for him to stay still was pretty scary. Ray’s slow crumbling as Cheum spoke, to him crying out and breaking down was heartbreaking. I still don’t know if it’ll be enough for him to admit he has a problem though. I’m looking forward to seeing how we move on from the mess of this episode.

Okay, and now for a section on Cheum. If you’re a Cheum does no wrong and OMG she’s the bestest friend ever kind of person feel free to skip this last part, because though I don’t think she’s all bad, I was annoyed by some of the things she said this episode. This is just how I felt. I know others think she was right to say the stuff she did and, like I said, she’s not all bad and some of her points are valid, but this is me mostly getting off my chest what irked me.

The first scene of her watching Ray and Mew, all I got from this is that she was jealous that Mew was spending more time with Ray than her - April even said, he’ll come back to you when he’s had enough. He. Just Mew. Because apparently fuck Ray. The way she said since being with Ray, Mew was skipping class and drinking all the time. Now, hold up, is Mew skipping because of Ray or is it because he’s not used to drinking and so feeling ill the next day. Is Ray skipping too with Mew? Did he used to skip? Does she even care? As far as we’ve seen, Ray drags his hungover ass into class, be him nearly falling asleep at the front of class, or face planted on his desk. Obviously, we don’t know if he always makes it in. They’ve been uni friends for 4 years (haven’t figured out if anyone was friends beforehand as it seems they all live reasonably close to the university - Mews parents owned the apartment he moved into, Ray and Boston seem to live in their family homes, and Cheum/Atom work at that café hangout place so might be family owned) so we’re jumping into this group of friends not aware of everything, so who knows how often Ray skipped, if at all. She also mentioned Mew wasn’t picking up her calls. Like, if you’re that worried go and see him. You were round his place post-birthday party chaos so not like you don’t know where he lives. Hell, if he won’t listen how about remembering Ray exists and cares about Mew and maybe try talking to him about how you’re worried. Ray had hints of being concerned over the cigarette and trying to reassure Mew at the bookstore that he was fine the way he used to be. Maybe together you could have tried supporting Mew instead of coming across as jealous.

And then her talk with Top. Again, some good points in there but also once more she sounded jealous about Mew hanging out with Ray too much, plus also - We used to stop him (Ray). You did? When? Look I get they’re at university and drinking and partying is part of that experience but saying you used to stop him means you know there’s a problem, right? I know we can’t expect others to give things (alcohol) up because of someone else’s problem with it and they’re university students so still learning about life and can’t be expected to do everything right. I just feel like even two years in the past after Ray’s bath tub moment, they’re drinking and she’s shit-faced. As Ray is enabling Mew, they’ve enabled Ray by continuously surrounding him with alcohol. I don’t know. I’ll say it again, we’ve only seen a small part of their 4 year course and time together so… maybe I’m too harsh, but this is how I felt at the time about what she said.

And then, inviting Top to the party. What was the reason you said Mew was changing when you were talking to Top, Cheum? Oh yeah, Top. Yes, yay, thank goodness he was there to deal with Ray and Mew’s bad situations, but I doubt seeing Top made Mew drink any less, in fact, I’m pretty sure it only made him drink more.

I shall pop it in here that I agree with her calling out Ray for using drugs at the hostel. It’s a business and he needs to remember that.

And then the lecture when Ray is caught by the cops. I agree both he and Mew need to call it quits and address what they’re doing to themselves and others. But to lay all the blame on Ray yet again… Being friends (with Mew) was good enough, did she happen to give Mew the same criticism being as he opened up the opportunity of being more than friends to Ray? The hostel - he never wanted to run it with her just something to do with Mew. Mew was the one making plans for Ray’s future, because I doubt Ray thinks about life past the end of his next drink to be honest. Mew seemed to be the driving force behind it, Ray and the others pretty much just let themselves go along with it. Plus she was happy enough spending Ray’s dad’s money for the pool party she wanted to have.

Ugh. Maybe I’m too harsh. It’s probably my protective instincts over Ray heightening my annoyance with her. When Ray’s functioning day to day and has a semblance of control on his life, Ray is sweet but needy, especially around Sand, and clearly cares about the people around him. Drunk and high as a fucking kite, he’s either an ‘I love you guys’ idiot or can be cruel if his emotions have been put through the wringer and he’s lost and confused. He needs help and it’s hard to watch at times.

Anyway, a couple more hours and we’ll see what comes next. Please, a little less pain this week.

#my emotions went on a rollercoaster ride #only friends the series #only friends episode 8 #only friends ep8 #firstkhaotung #sandray #topmew #forcebook #bostonnick #neomark #firstkhao #raymew

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cha-melodius · 11 months

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Dialogue Day

Prompt: share a section of dialogue that we like from our own work! It can be funny, sad, ridiculous, mysterious, plot-centric or just characters shooting the breeze…anything! And it can be from a WIP or a posted fic! It can be short or long! Let’s celebrate our beloveds having a chat.

Thanks to @rmd-writes for the tag! Ok so I agree this was tough, mostly because of the "or posted fic" option. Yeah, choosing dialogue out of that many published words was an impossible task. You were smart doing a theme, rae. Anyway, I decided to stick with two WIPs. And banter-y, because... banter lol.

From "Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood" aka Alex and Henry accidentally go to couples therapy, feat. a 'date' at Coney Island:

“It doesn’t look so bad from up here,” he says as he peers over the edge of the car at the Cyclone below them. The car rocks slightly, and a moment later Henry slides onto the bench next to him so that he can see what Alex is looking at. “Does that mean you want to go again?” he teases. “I’m afraid you’re on your own for support, though. I’m not sitting next to you after everything we’ve eaten.” “Fuck off,” Alex shoots back without a lick of heat. “You didn’t even want to go on it in the first place.” “You know, I reckon Lindbergh was onto something,” Henry muses, looking entirely too delighted by the whole turn of events. “I’ve created a monster,” Alex bemoans. “So you weren’t going to suggest a trip to the nearest Six Flags for our next date, then?” “I hate you,” Alex says, valiantly forcing himself to ignore the words next date. Henry just looks smug. “Whatever you say.”

From "Just A Shot Away From You" aka 5+1 of Napoleon and Illya being ordered to kill each other:

“Cannot believe they think this was me,” Illya scoffs when Napoleon shows him the file. “Amateurs.” Napoleon doesn’t know if Illya is talking about the perpetrator or the CIA. Either is probably appropriate. “So you’ll help me catch him, right?” “Them,” Illya corrects. “What?” Illya turns two photos of different parts of the compound toward him. “More than one person was responsible. See?” He points to some strike patterns in the photos. “Different heights.” “Huh,” Napoleon says. “Didn’t notice that.” “That’s because you’re a terrible spy, Cowboy,” Illya says smugly. “Come on. Get Chop Shop Girl. We will catch them.”

No pressure tags @celeritas2997 @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @clottedcreamfudge @14carrotghoul @actual-sleeping-beauty @indomitable-love @mirilyawrites @heytheredeann @afewbulbsshortofatanningbed @ikeepwatchinghelicopters @hummingbee-o0o @xthelastknownsurvivorx @loki-is-my-kink-awakening and anyone else who wants to play!

#my wips #rwrb #firstprince #napollya #tmfu #dialogue day #just notice both of these end with a character being smug #oh well i have a brand

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sevengraces · 2 years

Text

Self Sabotage v. Found Family

ch1, YOU, ch3, ch4, ch5, title card

AO3 Link

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Major L when the voices in your head won't let you avoid any of your problems, unfortunately fleeing was never an option.

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What is up everybody!!!!!!! Next chapter besties, let me know what you think of this so far? TW: Anxiety Spiraling Threats Implied violence Swearing I think that is everything, let me know though!!!

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Chapter 2: Avoidance Was a Sport, and I Have Never Been Very Athletic

Wilbur grabbed Tommy before he could rush after the fleeing boy.

“Wil- he needs help, he obviously doesn’t understand!” Tommy snapped.

Niki shook her head, “And we want to help him, of course we do, but if we chase him it’s just gonna put him more on edge. Plus, we don’t even fully understand. We just need to be an option.”

Tommy shook his head slowly, glancing quickly between Tubbo, Wilbur, and Niki. “So he doesn’t remember any of it? What if he just doesn’t come back hmm?”

“Usually hybrids aren’t knocked out like that, yeah? But he pushed his instincts down for a long time, probably subconsciously, so it all came out at once. He’ll probably remember as time passes, it’s like a- a coping mechanism.” Tubbo answered hesitantly.

“Plus,” Wilbur continued, “Technoblade is smart, he knows better than to just run from something he doesn’t understand, he’ll cool down and then come back and ask questions.”

--------

“That’s it, Chat, I’m leaving. I can go hang out with Phil for a few years, maybe farm some more yeah? You guys like the potato war right? It’ll be better. Revolution was getting boring anyways.” Technoblade muttered as he raced towards his base.

Chats’ giggles bounced around inside his head,

Coward

Mighty Blade fleeing from some affection

Potato pog?

RIP Manburg ig

C’mon runt think for a minute

Techno snarled as he dove through the entrance to his base, “I am thinking Chat! They know now, about way more than they should, so now I leave. This is normal procedure.”

If they shouldn’t know then kill them?

Murder pog?

Dead men tell no tales lol

You killed everyone else who knew.

“I killed those people ‘cause they were ‘xtorting me Chat, not cause they knew. It’s fine, who’s gonna believe them without proof anyways?” he started shoving things into his enderchest and packing up books.

You aren’t leaving cause they know abt your age lol

You agreed to help Pogtopia

EEEEEEeeeee

Philza might believe Wilbur

Technoblade stopped suddenly. “Wilbur wouldn’t tell, would he? Would he? No, no? Damnnit, yes he would, he’s just barely sane right now and it isn’t like he owes me shitall.” He collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. “Tell me Chat, why am I leaving then? If not to protect my identity?”

The voices snorted belligerently.

You know why little pig

Don’t get stupid on us now lol

They made you vulnerable

You haven’t done anything like that since you were a piglet with sounder

Just kill Wilbur, then he won’t tell

“I think Phil would be mad if I murdered his son for any reason Chat, ‘specially one I couldn’t explain.” he laughed bitterly. “Gods, I don’t even remember doing that before, I must have been small.”

He emptied his inventory, “I’m gonna have to talk to them about this huh?” Techno scrubbed his hands up and down his face, “Fuck, I left my godsdamn mask there too. This sucks. Why didn’t you all stop me huh?”

Tried to warn you

You didn’t listen genius

When he runs through the woods w/o his mask for anyone to see

RIP intentional vulnerability

Just kill ‘em

“Whatever, I’m sure you didn’t try very hard. Let’s get this over with, gods Tommy’s gonna be so smug isn’t he?” The piglin grabbed his spare armor and headed towards the exit.

He walked quickly but stuck to the shadows.

Chat whispered among themselves, with the occasional voice rising above the chorus.

Walk of shame lol

Hullo

Dream’s here!

Jbaited

Rivals duo my beloved <3

Dream?

“You know he isn’t here, he has better things to do than stalk me through the woods. I’m not even gonna look, you guys are so annoying.” Technoblade muttered to his eternal audience as he approached the ravine base once more. “Alright now or never to move to another server where nobody’s heard of me?”

You scared of Tommy?

C’mon runt

You made a promise

“Right,” he sighed and headed inside.

The entry room was empty, and there was no yelling upon his arrival so he headed further into the ravine. He wandered down the stairs and past the pit, but didn’t hear any chatter until the main room’s doorway was visible.

“Hullo.” he called out blankly, about a foot away from the door where he could see the others bickering among themselves

All four spun at the sound of his voice.

“Technoblade! You’re back, much sooner than I expected, big man.” Tommy called out immediately as he dashed towards the boy.

He took a quick step back at the approach, “Yeah whatever, this may be extra armor but it still has thorns on it.”

Tommy stopped and glanced back at Tubbo before bouncing in place and nodding. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course.”

Tubbo moved behind Tommy and leaned over his shoulder, “Feeling better?”

Tech scowled, “M’fine, we uh- I need to talk to Wilbur.”

Nikachu furrowed her brow, “Wouldn’t you just rather talk to us all at once?”

Technoblade’s ears flicked downward, “About what?” he glanced to the side.

“Well, uh, maybe about your age, mate? Or your instincts? Take your pick.” Wilbur glanced between the others and then back at the boy in question.

Chat laughed raucously,

No hiding anymore little piggie

Ha, you thought you could just avoid this?

Technoblade huffed, “Pretty sure the last group session discussed my age quite enough, and the instincts thing doesn’t matter.”

Tubbo breathed out slowly in exasperation, “Beg to differ on that one but, uh, whaddya need to talk with Wilbur about then?”

“Then beg I guess? You aren’t Wilbur so I don’t see how you need to know.” Techno drawled out.

Tommy choked down a laugh and rolled his eyes but held his tongue.

Niki glanced over to Wilbur, who shrugged then gestured for Techno to follow.

The boy walked past the others without a backwards glance and firmly ignored any sense of deja vu.

Wanna hold his hand this time?

Techno kept his hands firmly in his pockets.

“Alright Techno, what’s up?” Wilbur sprawled across his bed and tossed his coat into one of the many piles of clothes.

He stood firmly in place and looked to the left of the man, “I know you don’t talk with Philza much, but I need to make sure this stays where it is.”

Wilbur coughed out a laugh and threw a hand in front of his face. “Sorry, no, one minute!” he slowed his breathing for a moment, “You wake up from a three day daze where your only desire is for someone to hug you, immediately run away, and then the first thing you wanna talk about isn’t how you’re repressing your instincts or that you’re fourteen years old, no it’s to make sure I don’t snitch to my dad?”

Techno stood stock still except for his tail wrapping anxiously around his ankle and his ears folding back on his head.

He laughed again, “That- that’s funny kid, what are you even worried about? That I’ll call Phil up casually with a little; ‘Hey dad haven’t seen you in awhile, you know your best mate the emperor turned anarchist? Well he’s actually a kid, how funny’s that?’ that’s really your biggest concern right now?”

Technoblade fidgeted in place for a moment before looking at Wilbur head on. “Are you finished then? Or do you need another minute to giggle like an idiot?” he leaned backwards, shutting the door with his body weight. “Do you wanna know what my biggest concern is Soot? Are you curious, Wilbur?”

Roll intimidation lol

Blood pog?

Wil sat up slowly, glancing around the room discreetly at the blocked exit and the faux-casual state of the hybrid. “Sure, what is it?”

“My biggest concern, right now, is whether you walk out of this room or not.” Techno answered lightly as he looked up to the ceiling. “In case you’ve forgotten, oh mighty president, I am a lot of things, and one of those is a warrior. That is why you begged me to join your cause isn’t it?”

The man stared for a long moment, “Are you gonna kill me Technoblade? Gonna stab me with that pick you swung around earlier? Then what, you gonna kill Tommy and Tubbo? Kill Nikachu? For what hmm? To keep a secret? How are you gonna explain that to Phil?” Wilbur smiled tightly, “Cause listen, you’re Phil’s best friend in the world, so you know that there are a lot of things he’s willing to forgive. Is this one of them? I don’t think it is mate. Let me be clear, if you’re willing to kill us all just to keep Philza from thinking differently of you, then you must know that it’s a pointless endeavor. So cut the shit hmm? Let’s not pretend we’re willing to do things we aren’t.”

Chat began to cackle;

Oh how did that work out for you little pig?

Oh my god

Man you’re so obvious

Technoblade tensed for a moment before sighing and sliding down the door to sit on the floor. “That wasn’t ever gonna work was it?” he asked with a self deprecating laugh.

Wil raised his eyebrows and chuckled before rolling off the bed to sit across from the piglin. “No, not really. Did you think it would?”

“I mean, not particularly, but it was worth a shot, y’know?” he leaned his head forward onto his knees. “Where do ya wanna go from here Soot?”

#dsmp #c!technoblade #c!wilbur #c!tommyinnit #c!niki #c!tubbo #technoblades chat #technoblade centric #kidnoblade #kid!technoblade au #fanfic #fanfiction #grace is writing

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an-inbetween-place · 1 year

Text

13. Annual Return?

6:45 AM

Can we have a brief interlude for how absolutely shite (lol shes obsessed with that right now) the tumblr editing UI is? This teeny tiny little module that pops up ... we simply do not love it. I’ll bet we won’t even be seeing the same UI the next time we post but more on that later...

Anyways -- here we are, jet lagged after our 2 week trip to SE Asia (Bangkok, Krabi, Hanoi, Hoi An, HCMC just because future Jess will inevitably forget) and just in such a weird place emotionally. (There is no room for pretty prose right now).

Here, on this winter-y morning -- where it’s already past when I used to be on the Auburndale LIRR track, waiting for that cold rush of air that signified that I was on my way to Stuy and yet another day of routine was about to begin; the sky is still grey and dark and I’m sipping on a coffee, burning a candle and throwing my Haven onto it’s brightest possible setting (now that’s a purchase that might not be around - or used, rather - when the next post comes out but the vibes are just too good to return).

I can hear the city coming alive around me - the clanging of the elevator, the rush of the cabs outside and the apartments across the way slowly illuminating. I do love and relish the moment the city wakes up; going from the rare quiet and serene city (lol would anyone who didn’t grow up in the city agree with me that the city @ 4-5 AM is ‘serene’) to the ‘hustle and bustle’ of people getting up, speed walkers on their way to the train with coffees in hand, delis and carts running through orders like nobody’s business.

However, I feel rushed and anxious - like I need the cover of darkness to get all my thoughts out. Like I can’t be vulnerable in the daylight. Like I’m racing against the sun and as always, fighting a losing battle. Like my fingers and words are failing me with their lack of speed. Like I’m taking an exam and my thoughts are sticky and moving through honey.

And on that note, we should really just get into it. It’s the elephant in the room -- and I guess keeping in tradition, we should stick to initials on this blog. Good ole D. DRZ if you will. I cannot fathom a day that I do not remember this man’s name but if my brief scroll through this blog tells me anything, that day may come one day. (Well, I doubt I won’t remember his name fully, but it’ll be a foggy memory).

I’ve been saying this and stewing in it but I should say that I really did get what I wished for. For two whole years (and the last post commemorates it), all I’ve been saying is that I want something. Anything to make me feel something. Anything so that I don’t feel apathy and nothing more than a faint wave of sadness for a few hours over someone saying goodbye forever. Anything to make me fully understand the heartbreak songs and the crazy movies and everything in this godforsaken relationship obsessed media (holidays are not a fun time to be struggling with this).

I just saw something on Instagram that may have prompted this post. A joke about how with situationships, all they do is prepare someone else for a relationship with the next person. I suppose LI guy (S...XYZ? we cannot remember his last name for the life of us.. and that tells the audience enough really) would agree.

I gotta get a move on - I see the sky lightening through the (white lol that was a terrible idea) curtains and my mom just called me. I need to move out of this headspace and get back into my normal business bich/empty head bich mood.

I’m being dramatic really - and that’s totally fine, we support our dramatic queens. Nothing has happened, but it’s just all in the water. We never were in a real relationship but we’re about to have our break up conversation. I can picture it completely -- I’m going to ask for more (as I have been) and he’ll let me know that he can’t give me what I want. The only shift here is that this time, I won’t respond with ‘okay’. It’ll be a ‘okay, I think we should stop seeing each other then’. And even typing that breaks my heart a little.

I think it’s the fact that he won’t fight for me that is the heart wrenching part.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised but I really want to be.

I suppose I should be all manifest the future you want and sending good vibes into the ether but I know that’s a fool’s mission.

I suppose that’s all I have left in terms of a defense mechanism -- the whole you expect nothing so you aren’t disappointed situation.

Who would have thought? A simple party for a friend of a friend, coming off of a weird situation with a coworker (lol A... what a time that was) and several drinks in... and we’d find ourselves here -- 6 months later.

Not to silver line everything but this entire situation just demonstrates what little I had with everyone I thought I did have something with - LI guy, MS, S (BW one.. I forgot his last name which is a positive thing IMO), and the countless other 2/3 week dudes that I’ve cycled through.

I can’t even pinpoint why I like him -- I suppose I just enjoy spending time with him. He makes the time go by so easy -- it forever will remind me of that song ‘Loving You is Easy’. Not that I love him, but I can finally see what those lyrics are about.

It’s insane really - I want to talk to him all the time, I want to see him all the time, I want to wake up next to him and go to bed next to him - to start our days together and end them together. I want to travel together, to explore new places and have new experiences. I want to drink just a little too much together and think about nothing for a while. I want to feel safe and secure and wanted and loved and everything! I just want everything together.

Even typing that.. after the last few weeks, I haven’t even let myself think those thoughts - much less relish in them.

I know I’m falling for the classic girl move (also something I saw on Instagram... can the algorithm let a girl LIVE?). The whole, do you like him OR do you simply like the possibility of him? Everything you imagine with him?

Regardless, I want to acknowledge all of that. I want to acknowledge the good that we had, the reason for all the tears and heartbreak and angst. For all the glasses of wine and pining to the girlies.

It feels like pressing on the wound but I want to go through all the fun times we had. The somewhat insane night at the Canary Club that led to Maru. The countless number of bottles of wine we made our way through and my sheer surprise over the number of hours that pass whenever we’re together. My birthday. The hours we have spent on the phone.

I struggle with recalling those things which may be a positive sign after all.. the body’s defense mechanism coming in strong.

Not to be vengeful, but I hope he’s sad. I hope I’m more than just a blip for a few hours and then he’s back on tinder.

And just like that, my coffee cup is cold and empty and I can hear the clanging of the garbage trucks outside. The cloudy winter light is coming in -- dark and grey and yet too illuminating for me to continue this really.

I suppose the last thing - and the main thing I wanted to get down earlier... I want so badly to relish in this in between place. This grey area of having something and not. This urge to be happy with what I’ve got even though it’s not entirely what I want - but at least it’s somewhat!

I know that’s a cowards move.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that has been my position since October (the infamous pre-Spain date lmao).

I’m nearly shocked by how many times I’ve cried in with/over this man. I mean the number is like 3 but still.

And I know that I cannot be happy with this. It’s a disservice to myself! To my original goal.

I know all of this and it’s still so hard.

I guess I just really want someone. And at least in this moment right now, I want it to be DRZ.

Now that’s a line that future Jess will definitely cringe over...

7:38 AM

EDIT - 7:41 AM

As I was scrolling through this blog - something caught my eye... something about peach picking/hiking upstate.

And an irrational anger overtook me - I mentioned it how many times to DRZ and did we go? Never. I mentioned going to a sports bar and watching a game and did we go? Never. And he had to gall to mention that that was something I wanted to do and asked me how it went when I did!

Good riddance.

I should ride this high all the way to the conversation.

The gorlies are right - let that MAN-GO. You can do so much better.

7:43 AM

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trashinaglass-archive · 2 years

Text

Just for Us

Request: Heyyy I saw you were looking for requests.. mine is for Chris Evans, how about they both star in the MCU and after all those years reader and Chris get into a relationship and keep it secret for awhile but then decide it’s time the others should know before the media find out first :) Maybe Seb and Mackie could admit they had a bet on it as one of the reactions?

A/n: I just checked my drafts and found this. Thought I posted it months ago, but here it sat. So sorry about that. Just another reason that I’m the worst 🥰 Also, didn’t do much editing so sorry if it sucks

I have this weird guilt of replacing anyone from the MCU, even fictionally lol, so random original character thrown in.

Conventions were the best and the worst. It was incredible getting to meet and interact with so many fans, but it was so many fans. It was difficult sometimes, going on for so long with so few breaks. You picked up your pen as someone asked Tom a question about his upcoming Spider-Man movie, and began doodling, drawing Tom as a spider getting chased by Anthony and Sebastian, who continually pick on him. It only made sense.

Chris looked over at the paper in front of you, chuckling softly at it, but not getting the opportunity to say anything about it. “My question is for y/n and Chris! Your two characters seem to be getting pretty close,” the fan pointed out as she looked to you and Chris, who was sat next to you for the panel. “Is there any chance we’ll see some Maya x Steve action sometime soon?” The crowd roared with oooh’s as she finished the question.

Chris threw his hands out in a shrug, turning to look at you with his arm slung across the back of your chair. You could only shrug, not knowing what else you could say either. “One of the most frustrating parts of this job is that so much is a secret, even to us. I honestly have no idea what’s in store for Maya and Steve.”

“But it really wouldn’t hurt my feelings, if we’re throwing it out there,” Chris joked.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “I don’t know, I think I’d pick Bucky if I got to chose.”

The audience screamed at your answer as Chris threw his hands up in confusion, as if asking what’s wrong with me. You leaned over to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug, your head leaning against his as you laugh. “I’m just joking.”

“Ay, you can’t have Buck nasty anyways. He’s mine,” Anthony butted in, nodding his head confidently.

Sebastian shook his head, “Bucky already has an intimate relationship with his trauma.” His eye brow raised as one should shrugged up to his ear. The rest of the panel moved on, asking question after question until time had finally run up and you all broke for lunch.

“I love doing these conventions and all, but I swear the day moves by so slow,” you whine as you drop onto the couch Chris and Sebastian were sitting at, your head leaning against Chris’s shoulder.

Anthony let out a laugh as he sat in an adjacent chair, “I’d argue it moves too damn fast. You know, like what the hell just happened out there? I don’t fucking know.”

“Words,” you said simply. “Too many of them.” The boys laughed and agreed before beginning to talk about something that happened in a separate panel with just Mackie and Sebastian. You took it upon yourself to get comfortable, curling up next to Chris. It had been an early morning and you were too exhausted to care what any on lookers thought.

You felt Chris’s head turn as he looked down at you. “You okay?” He asked in a whisper, a hand resting on your knee. You only nodded in reply.

“You comfy over there, y/n?” Mackie asked, his voice raised in a slightly teasing tone.

You laughed quietly and nodded again. “I could use a blanket though,” you requested, knowing there was one on the other side of Sebastian.

Anthony glanced at it then back at you, and suddenly that mischievous gleam in his eyes, that you had gotten to know well in your years of knowing him, shined bright. “If only there was someone that cared about you and how cold you are,” he continued to tease.

Chris let out a breathe through his nose, knowing where his friend was headed but didn’t say anything. You could feel his body leaning as he stretched his arm out, grabbing the blanket off the furniture and draping it over you best he could.

“Oh, would you look at that. How sweet. What a nice man,” Anthony continued, looking back at you. “Isn’t Chris such a nice man.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the giggle in your throat. “The nicest man.”

“But there are plenty of other nice guys, I’m sure,” Sebastian added, subtly looking back and forth between you and Mackie. “Do you talk to some other nice guys?”

You looked up at Chris, finally understanding what they were hinting at, and gave him a just tell them look. “You sure? It seems to be killing them not to know,” he joked.

“So it’s true!” Mackie exclaimed excitedly, leaning forward in his chair. Both of them looked as if they were watching an intense football game and one team was close to winning it all. You couldn’t believe how obsessed they seemed to be.

Chris laughed. “We’ve been dating for about a year and a half now,” he said nonchalantly.

“I knew it,” Anthony yelled, as he stood up, pointed at Sebastian who sat with his hands thrown up in the air. “You owe me twenty, dog.” Chris threw his head back in laughter as you sat up, your jaw slack in shock.

“You had a bet!?”

Sebastian put his hands up in surrender. “He was convinced you guys were dating. I said you were just close friends, and it just happened, I don’t know.”

“It just happened,” you repeated sarcastically.

“Why did y’all hide it anyways?” Mackie asked as he sat back down, looking between you and Chris.

“Easier,” Chris shrugged. “Trying to get through all that new dating stage and figuring all that out. It’s just easier to do on your own than to have everyone talking.”

You nod in agreement, “and if it ended up not working out, there wasn’t any reason for anyone to make it weird.”

Sebastian scoffed dramatically. “As if we would make anything awkward.” You hold back your laugh but smile, looking between the three men surrounding you.

“You just interrogated me. You definitely would have made it weird in some way,” you laughed.

“It’s called being fun,” Anthony defended as he walked away, a teasing smirk still lingering on his face. “But I won’t tell anyone. Promise!”

The three of you watched as he walked away before turning back. “Who do you think he’s going to tell?” You ask, knowing him better than that.

“Well, Tom did say something about having a crush on you in an interview a while ago, so he’s probably going to tease the kid about it,” Sebastian theorized. “And if he does, I’m not missing it. See you guys in a bit.” He raised his hand in a small wave as he stood up and followed where Mackie left, leaving the two of you alone.

You lean back into the couch with your back leaning against Chris, the back of your head resting against his shoulder. “Wonder if they’ll ever leave that kid alone,” you think out loud.

“Probably never, if I know them well enough.” Chris looked down at you with a smile as you turned your head to look back at him. Your eyes closed as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, his head leaning against that spot as you sit there in silence. It was a rare occasion on promo days, so you soaked in for as long as you could before you were called for the next panel.

#Chris evans #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

A Special Kind of Man

this fic swap is for @safertokiss ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol

A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.

Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.

But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.

I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.

Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.

I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.

So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.

“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.

“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”

There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.

The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.

“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”

“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.

Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.

“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”

I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”

“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.

I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.

“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.

I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.

“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”

Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.

“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.

“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.

I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.

“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.

“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”

“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.

“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.

“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”

I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.

“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.

Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.

“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”

I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.

I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.

“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.

Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.

From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”

I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.

I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.

“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”

“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.

Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.

___

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

Text

You decide you’re ready to have a baby. The catch? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment. Enter your best friend, Jeong Jaehyun. Will he be the answer to your dilemma?

Pairing: best friend!Jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: best friends to fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy and childbirth, sperm donors, IVF (in vitro fertilization), fertility drugs, mood swings, fingering, unprotected sex, cum play, nipple play, breeding kink, oral sex (f.receiving), dirty talk, pregnant sex, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this was only meant to be a short fic but it morphed into this monstrosity. I tried to tag for everything but if I missed anything please let me know. Inspired by the fact that Jaehyun wanted to be a teen dad (but they are not teens in this story, just thought I’d make that clear :) Also please excuse my unimaginative name for the baby, I’m terrible at coming up with names lol

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional so please excuse any inconsistencies.

“So what have you got planned for today?” your best friend, Jaehyun, asked you as he took a sip of his coffee, shielding his eyes from the sun’s rays coming through the window of the cafe.

It was your weekly Saturday brunch, at which Jaehyun would show up, nine times out of ten, hungover, wearing dark sunglasses, a baseball cap, a black t-shirt and sweats. There was never a deviation from this outfit, even on the times when he came not hungover.

“Oh not much, just an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon.”

Jaehyun paused, as you took a sip of your latte. You couldn’t see the look in his eyes through the sunglasses but his fork had stopped midway to his mouth. It hovered in the air, scrambled eggs sliding off of it and plopping onto the plate below.

“The where?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you above the top of his sunglasses.

“Fertility clinic. Looking into getting a sperm donor.”

The matter-of-fact way you were saying everything seemed to shock him, his fork still not moving towards his mouth or back onto the plate.

“Excuse me, a sperm donor?”

You put your coffee cup down, and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked, I told you before I wanted to have a baby.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Well I wasn’t!” you don’t know why you were being so indignant, maybe because all you’d heard from everyone around you, from your parents to your doctor to the lady that sold you pretzels from a street cart, was negative. You shouldn’t have a baby without a partner, was the main point of contention, but how was that going to happen if you weren’t seeing anyone, and hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a year.

“But a sperm donor, Y/N?” he asked, after mulling over what you just said.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” you countered. You were so sick of everyone around you criticizing your plan.

“I don’t know, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?”

“They do psychiatric assessments on everyone who donates.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an undiagnosed illness-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jaehyun!” you’d had it, letting out an exasperated huff, “Do you have a better idea? Do you want to be my sperm donor?”

You weren’t at all serious, you were just mainly upset and unfortunately, taking it out on him, but he actually sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, as if he were contemplating it.

“Anyway, forget it. I don’t need your approval. I just hoped that you’d support me, of all people.” You couldn’t help but pout. He was your best friend and he’d stuck with you when no one else had. You may have said you didn’t need his approval but deep down you wanted him to be on your side.

He leaned forward, took his sunglasses off and looked you in the eye. “Of course I support you,” he said sincerely. “If this is what you want, then I’m with you one hundred percent of the way.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter, and just as you took a sip of your latte he said the one thing that would complicate your life forever.

“But I get to be that sperm donor.”

You spluttered, almost choking on your latte. “I wasn’t being at all serious, Jaehyun,” you chuckled nervously, but one look at his face and you could see he was being completely serious.

“I just don’t like the idea of some stranger being the father of your child,” he said quietly, looking down at his plate of food while he said it, “might as well be me, right?” He looked up at you hopefully.

You didn’t know what to say. This was your best friend, the one you’d grown up with, the one you’d catch tadpoles with, the one you’d drag to the playground with you, the one you told all your innermost secrets to. The one who knew you best. Didn’t it make sense then, that he would be the one to share this with you, in the end? You looked at his face; open, sincere, beautiful. You knew he was attractive, with the trail of broken hearts he’d leave in his wake, but you hadn’t really looked at him in that way before. Suddenly he was a new person to you, and now you didn’t know how to feel.

“Jaehyun, I-” you rubbed your hands together nervously, still unsure of what to say, “it’s a big thing, you know? This will change the rest of your life.”

He nodded, but there was no trace of hesitation in his actions. In fact, he looked as sure as anything. “Yeah that’s a given. But I’ve thought about it and I’m ready.”

“Jaehyun, you’ve literally thought about it for, like, the few minutes we’ve been sitting here.”

He smiled, “Actually I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“About being a sperm donor?”

He laughed. “No, not specifically a sperm donor. But it’s a start,” he shrugged. “So what do I have to do?”

---

Jaehyun accompanied you to the appointment at the fertility clinic, where they outlined the plan and what was required of the two of you. It didn’t sound too bad, but you did find that having Jaehyun there to support you was really helpful. Every time the doctor explained something that made you nervous you would look over at him and he would smile confidently at you, sometimes squeezing your hand if you looked particularly concerned.

It was the fertility drugs they gave you, that threw your world into chaos. They had warned you of the side effects but you didn’t think it would be this bad. Your mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, one moment you were happy, the next you were crying into your cereal. You were irritable more than you had ever been in your life, and constantly snapped at every little thing. Not to mention that your breasts were sore and you had nausea, making you feel like you were pregnant already. You felt bad for Jaehyun when he was around for your mood swings and irritable moments, but he handled it much better than you thought he would. He’d give you your space when you needed it, but also sit by your side when you didn’t want to be alone. You found yourself thinking about how he would be as a father, but then you would remember that he was just the sperm donor.

One day, when he was sitting beside you on the couch, rubbing your back after you’d cried over your coffee order being wrong, you ended up asking him how much he wanted to be involved.

“We didn’t talk about the ‘after’,” you said, still sniffling. He stopped rubbing your back and looked at you.

“What do you want the ‘after’ to look like?” He asked, his tone level and gentle.

You had visions of Jaehyun rocking the baby to sleep, of Jaehyun seeing the baby walk for the first time, of Jaehyun teaching your child how to ride a bike, piano lessons, soccer games, first day of school. The perfect family. Except he wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t know what to ask of him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. He went back to rubbing your back.

“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly, “my only request is that I get to be a part of their life.”

That sounded fair, you thought. This was certainly going to be more complicated than getting a stranger as a sperm donor.

---

You went through several cycles of IVF, but none had been successful and you were losing hope. Not to mention the fertility drugs were really taking a toll on you, and the doctor had recommended taking a break. You were devastated, seeing it as the end of your dream, no matter how much the doctor reassured you that it wasn’t.

“There has to be another solution,” you pleaded at one appointment. Jaehyun hadn’t accompanied you and you felt yourself falling apart without his presence.

“Well, of course there’s the surefire way,” the doctor shrugged.

“What’s that? I’ll do anything!” you were hopeful once again at the doctor’s words.

“Regular sexual intercourse.”

Of course, you thought bitterly. You couldn’t help but think this was society punishing you for doing this without a husband. Undeterred, you resolved to discuss it with Jaehyun.

---

The look on Jaehyun’s face when you broached the subject was one you had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of shock, terror, resignation, and… something else, almost like acceptance, as if this were the natural course of things.

You resolved not to make it weird, it was just sex after all, and you would get a baby out of it, and that was the most important thing. However, your palms still got sweaty at the thought of it, your heart racing imagining him naked. You’d gone swimming with him plenty of times, went on beach outings often, and you realized you’d always avert your eyes from his bare chest. You figured you were just doing it to be polite, but you had no trouble looking at other men’s chests (you were only human, after all). You shook your head of your thoughts, while waiting patiently for him to agree or disagree to your request.

“I know it’s weird,” you began, when he still hadn’t said anything, “but I promise it won’t change anything in our relationship.” You needed him to agree, and at this point you would say anything to convince him. He looked at you thoughtfully, before he nodded.

“Okay, I’m in.”

---

You’d been keeping track of your cycle and had the days you were ovulating marked on your calendar, which you had shared with Jaehyun. It was agreed that he would come to your place after work, where you would have sex in the hopes of making a baby.

The first night you were nervous, pacing your room as you waited for him to come over. When the doorbell rang you literally jumped out of your skin. When you opened the door you were relieved to see that he was nervous too, although he tried his best to hide it. He joked around with you, trying to keep the mood light, and you had to admit you appreciated it. But when you got to the bedroom, you both went quiet. Jaehyun stood at one end of the room and you stood at the other, the bed looming between you.

“Do you want me to turn around while you get undressed?” he asked awkwardly, and you realized you hadn’t thought through the details.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you replied, and when he turned around you hastily undressed and jumped under the covers. “Done,” you advised, and he turned around. He didn’t make a move though, just looking at you pointedly, until you realized and turned your head away. Once he was done undressing you felt him lift the covers and get into the bed with you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Y/N,” he said softly, because you still hadn’t turned back to him. “Can I touch you?”

You bit your lip, still not looking his way, and nodded. His touch made you jolt, even though his hand was warm, the electricity you felt made all your nerve endings feel like they were on fire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand moving tentatively across your stomach. You nodded but you realized you were panting already, and he had barely touched you. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he suddenly whispered in your ear, and then he was kissing your neck.

You weren’t prepared for the intimacy, you had really only thought about the intercourse part. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the kissing, and the touching, and how he was so good at making you feel good. You felt like you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, that it was supposed to be “just sex” because you were friends and you weren’t doing this because you loved each other, you were only doing it to have a baby. But the more he touched you, the more he kissed you, the more you fell under his spell. You felt like you should tell him to stop, to just get on with it, but you knew he was doing it to get you nice and wet and therefore more comfortable to take him.

His kisses started to move along your jaw, towards your lips, and when he was finally there, his lips on yours, you felt a panic bubble up in your chest. It was too intimate, too much for someone who wasn’t yours. You pulled away, and he looked at you in surprise.

“No kissing on the lips,” you managed to say, maybe that would be enough to keep it less intimate, you told yourself. He nodded without saying a word, his hand coming up to your breast.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked, his eyes on yours. You thought for a moment and decided it was okay, and when you nodded he cupped your breast tentatively, all the while watching you for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he squeezed gently, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a moan, because everything he was doing was making you feel so good. He kept watching your reaction, and when he was satisfied that you were reacting favorably he got bolder, his hand slipping down between your legs.

You yelped when he touched you there, your legs involuntarily closing and trapping his hand. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flushing with embarrassment, “reflex reaction.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as you slowly opened up your legs again. He moved his hand slowly, gently, just rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You can relax, Y/N, I promise I won’t hurt you.” His words were soft, his tone gentle, and it did wonders to calm and soothe you.

You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he reached tentatively with his finger, just lightly touching your folds. The electricity you felt when he first touched you came back with a vengeance, and you almost melted right into the bed. Your reaction encouraged him though, and he pressed his finger further in, rubbing your wetness around. When he was satisfied with the state of your arousal he got into position between your legs, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He paused, looking you in the eye, gently stroking your cheek.

“Ready?” he asked gently, “I’ll go slow.”

You nodded vigorously, to be honest the anticipation was killing you and you were very much aroused, wanting him to just get on with it. When he pushed into you though, you realized you should really be careful what you wished for. The feeling of him stretching you was almost too much, every inch he pushed in agonizingly slow amplifying your arousal to a dizzying degree. By the time he was seated all the way inside you you were panting, almost out of breath already.

“Okay?” he asked, through gritted teeth. You could tell he was holding back for dear life, but he purposely went achingly slow to make sure you were comfortable.

“Yes,” you said, having adjusted to his size, “you can move now.” Your pussy clenched involuntarily around him and he hissed.

“Don’t do that, Y/N,” he groaned, “I won’t last.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and as if to get you back he snapped his hips, making you cry out.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and that definitely encouraged him, and he set a pace, fucking you into the mattress. You felt your toes curl, a familiar knot building in your stomach. Once again, you thought, you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you were, it was more important for him to come inside you. “Come on, baby, come for me,” you whispered in his ear, hoping the dirty talk would encourage him.

“Almost there,” he grunted, and as much as you tried not to enjoy it, the way he was drilling into you felt too good. You bit your lip and grasped at the sheets, trying to keep your orgasm down, but he took it as a sign that you were about to come. He reached between you and thumbed your clit, and at that moment your orgasm exploded out of you without warning. He groaned as you clenched around him, finally spilling his seed inside you. You were dizzy, mind hazy from your orgasm, but you were content at the feeling of his cum inside you. He started to pull out, then stopped.

“Oh,” he said, and you looked up at him to see why he was saying that.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s leaking out of you,” he pointed down between your legs. You panicked.

“Well you’re not supposed to pull out right away!” you wrung your hands frantically, “push it back in!”

He looked at you incredulously, before looking down at his already softening cock, realizing it was useless at that point. So he just used his fingers, gathering up the cum that had leaked down and pushing it back into your pussy. You bit your lip again, because the more he pushed in, the more aroused you became, surprised that you weren’t oversensitive at this point. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he didn’t stop, pushing in further and further, in and out, faster and faster, until you were coming again, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

You took a deep breath to regulate your breathing, while he pulled his fingers out of you and sat back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, when you still lay there, unmoving.

“Yes,” you responded, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” he said awkwardly, when you didn’t say anything else.

You nodded, still staring up at the ceiling. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He dressed without saying anything more and left the room.

---

He came over again the next night, and you repeated the same awkward scene from the night before. This continued for a few cycles, with no success, and again you were losing hope.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” you said dejectedly one day. Jaehyun looked over at you, concern etched on his face.

“The doctor said you were fine,” he replied, attempting to soothe you.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with you then,” you huffed, but Jaehyun just shook his head.

“Y/N, they put us through a bunch of tests and said we’re both fine,” he put a hand on your knee to reassure you.

“Then why isn’t it working?” you lamented, on the verge of tears.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked hesitantly. You looked up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, curious as to what he had to say.

“Well, I’ve been reading those links the doctor sent, and it said stress is a big factor,” he stated carefully, “I think you just need to relax, and let it happen.”

You were floored. On the one hand you were touched that he had actually read the links the doctor had sent (you had been too impatient to bother), on the other hand, what exactly did he mean by ‘letting it happen’?

“Let’s do things differently next time, what do you think?” he had a twinkle in his eye that was starting to alarm you.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’ll see.” He smiled, much too widely for your liking.

---

The next time came around and you were more nervous than you were the first night, and if this was his idea of making it more relaxed he was already failing miserably. When he showed up at your door though, you almost didn’t recognize him.

Instead of a t-shirt and sweats, he was wearing a crisp white button-down and jeans that sat sexily on his hips. Instead of his hair flat and falling in his face he had it pulled back, with just a few strands falling over his forehead. He also smelled incredible, a musky scent that forever trapped you in his hold, and made you want him in every way he would let you.

He smiled at you, but not in the way a friend smiles at a friend, and when he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek you almost passed out from the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. He walked past you to the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your underwear dampening.

When you finally collected yourself, you went upstairs to hear the bath running. You walked into the bathroom to see him drawing a bath, candles surrounding the tub, flower petals in the water, and the most luscious smelling bath bomb marinating in it.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“Shh,” he put a finger to your lips, and even that act was so sensual you had to squeeze your legs together, “let me take care of you.” He reached down and turned off the water. “Get undressed and get in the bath, and I’ll come back and help you get relaxed.” He left the room and you did what he said, calling him back in once you were in the bath and the cloudy bubbly water reached the tops of your breasts.

He had such a calm and serene look on his face that it almost threw you off, but then he was taking your puff and squeezing body wash on it.

“May I?” he asked, and when you nodded he gently took your arm and ran the puff along it. He did the same with the other arm, and that simple act, along with the warmth of the bath water, did wonders to soothe you. You felt like you were floating, with the calming scents of the bath bomb, and his gentle touch. He started to run the puff along your neck and you bent your head back and sighed. Soon enough he was dipping below the surface of the water, running the puff between your breasts, and you sighed even deeper as he got lower, past your stomach, and lower still. The puff was forgotten, and now it was just his hand, reaching down between your legs. It all felt so good, you spread your legs even wider, wanting more.

“How does it feel?” he whispered, so close to your ear you shuddered.

“So good,” you couldn’t help but moan, and then his hand was there, cupping your pussy.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purred, his voice like honey, “will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes,” the word came out on a long exhale, as he plunged a finger between your folds, and you couldn’t help but fall apart. He fingered you until you came, water splashing all around you as you writhed in pleasure. When you were done he picked you up out of the bath, not caring that his clothes were getting wet, and carried you to the bed. You couldn’t care that you were probably soaking the bed, because his lips were on your neck, hot and urgent, leaving marks that you’d have trouble concealing the next day.

You pulled at his shirt, wanting it off already, and he obliged, throwing the damp fabric to a corner of the room. You rubbed your hands all over his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, then down to his abs. He groaned against your neck when you undid his belt and slipped your hand over his hardened cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, when you wrapped your hand around it and pumped.

“Don’t come yet,” you whispered, taking your hand away, opting instead to pull the rest of his jeans and boxers off. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to enter you, but he pulled back slightly.

“Slow down,” he breathed, and you could feel him smiling against your neck, “this isn’t a race, Y/N,” he continued kissing down the column of your neck, down to your chest, “relax, and let me make you feel good.”

You finally relented, relaxing as he’d ordered, letting yourself melt into the mattress as he sucked on your skin. Your body was on fire, both from the heat of the bath you just had as well as the way his lips were ruining you. When he got down to your lower stomach you realized where he was headed, and instead of fighting the pleasure you were feeling you simply gave in. As soon as his wet tongue collided with your wet folds you let go, moaning wantonly at the feeling. Every sound you made spurred him on, every jerk and jolt of your body gave him the impetus to push you to the height of pleasure, until you were yanking at his hair and convulsing around his tongue.

“That was fucking hot, Y/N,” he almost growled, wiping at his chin as he moved to hover above you, “I almost came.”

“Don’t,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “you need to come inside me.”

“You want it? Want my cum inside you, fill you up,” his voice was deep, intense, a tone you’d never heard from him, and certainly words you’d never heard from him, but it certainly was doing the job and making you very aroused.

“Oh god,” you exclaimed, unaware that dirty talk was something you liked. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t been this filthy, but you found you loved it.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, and you’re gonna take all of my cum,” he continued, voice raspy, breath hot in your ear, “I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, and watch your belly grow with my baby.”

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, losing yourself completely. You grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down, and for a split second you saw his eyes grow wide as you smashed your lips against his, your no-kissing rule forgotten. He kissed you with the same passion and intensity that he ate you out with, and you wondered why you had ever put that no-kissing rule into place if he could make you feel like that with his lips. You moaned when his tongue entered your mouth, just as he slid his cock inside you.

This time you didn’t hold back, allowing yourself to feel everything. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way the tip kept hitting that spot so deep inside you. The way his tongue moved in your mouth, the way his hands rubbed up and down your body, sometimes squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling his muscles move, and when you felt your orgasm start to build you dragged your nails against his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come,” he broke from the kiss to drop his head down to your chest, his thrusts getting harder but more erratic.

“Oh god, do it,” you panted, your orgasm about to burst out of you, “fill me up, baby, I want your cum so bad.”

That was enough to send him over the edge, and he pulled you flush against him as he came inside you, the particularly forceful thrusts triggering your own orgasm and making you clench around him. He let out a loud groan as you milked him, fingernails digging into his back.

When you were both done you held him against you, not wanting to let him go. He obliged, just holding you, his face tucked against your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and that, along with his arms around you and his weight on top of you was all oddly comforting.

“I’m gonna pull out,” he finally said, when he had gone soft inside you. You sighed but nodded, and once he had pulled out you clamped your legs together, trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as you could.

He dressed quietly and you watched him, heart stuttering in your chest, your mind reeling. You had promised him that the sex wouldn’t change anything in your relationship, but you couldn’t believe how wrong you were. You wanted to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but you held back.

“Thanks for that,” you said quietly, and he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely, “I’ll do anything for you,” and he brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, his eyes soft as he looked at you, “you’re my best friend.”

You smiled at him, but inside your heart was breaking. How could you ever think you could do this and keep your friendship as it was?

---

A few weeks later you were late, and although you tried not to get your hopes up you couldn’t help but think this was it. You waited to take the pregnancy test, wanting Jaehyun to be there no matter the outcome.

“What is it? What’s wrong? You said it’s an emergency.” He looked so concerned when he came over, and you almost felt bad for not saying what it was about right away.

“I’m late, Jaehyun,” you announced nervously.

“Where do you have to be?”

“No, I mean my period! I haven’t gotten my period yet!”

He paused, the pieces finally falling into place, and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh shit!” He covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Come with me, I’m gonna take a pregnancy test.” You led him upstairs where he waited outside the bathroom door while you took the test. You placed the stick on the counter and opened the door to let him in.

“Well? What does it say?” he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes,” you answered nervously, “I can’t look, tell me what it says.” You turned away, so anxious you thought you would pass out.

“One line, so far,” he stated, and you tried to stay calm but your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Hold my hand,” you reached behind you and he took your hand in his, squeezing to comfort you. He was silent for a while, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Well? What does it say now?”

“I see…” he started to say, and you so desperately wanted to turn around but you were too scared.

“What?! Just say it!”

He pulled you to him, turning you around and lifting the stick up to your eye level. “Two lines.”

You blinked a few times, wanting to make sure you were seeing it right, but every time you opened your eyes there were two solid lines. You were pregnant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, both of your hands going up to cover your mouth. Jaehyun whooped in celebration, jumping up and down with glee. You saw the genuine happiness in his face and so many emotions ran through you that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.

“Aw, Y/N, don’t cry!” he laughed, gathering you into his arms, thinking you were just crying from happiness. But it was so much more complicated than that. You were getting what you wanted, a baby, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for all the complications of having a baby with your best friend, who you may have developed feelings for.

---

The first trimester was hell. You were throwing up every morning, and feeling nausea for the rest of the day. You had an aversion to most food, even hating the smell of certain things, like meat. The only things you could keep down were bread and noodles, and you wondered how the baby could grow when that was all that you ate. But at every appointment the doctor reassured you that the baby was doing well and developing at a good rate. Jaehyun insisted on going with you to your first ultrasound and as much as you wanted him to, you also dreaded it.

When the fuzzy form of your baby showed up on the screen for the first time you felt a surge of happiness overcome you, tears springing to your eyes at the sight of the tiny figure on the screen. You heard Jaehyun inhale sharply and turned to look at him. The awe in his face was so endearing it made the tears run down your cheeks, and seeing your reaction he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, and you cried harder.

“Congratulations!” the technician said, patting you both on the shoulder. You felt like you should correct her, tell her that although the baby was technically yours and Jaehyun’s, you weren’t together and wouldn’t be raising the baby as such. But how do you explain that to a complete stranger? You looked over at Jaehyun, who was smiling from ear to ear, shaking the technician’s hand and making no move to explain the situation.

Later, as you were getting ready to leave the clinic, you saw the technician hand over a copy of the ultrasound picture to Jaehyun. He took it happily in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As he walked towards you he slipped it into the plastic window spot in his wallet, where your drivers’ license should be, but his now housed a blurry black and white photo of your baby.

“Hey, wanna get something to eat to celebrate?” he asked, slinging an arm around you as you both left the clinic.

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to spend time with him, you found it hurt more than it helped. Once the baby was born you’d have to deal with him being around more often, so it was better to save up your strength for that.

“I’m actually really tired, I just want to go home and rest,” you answered without looking up at him, “besides, I’m still off most foods.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He said, removing his arm from around your shoulder and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t sound upset or offended, but when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of emotion cross his face, almost like hurt or disappointment. You felt bad, knowing you had been avoiding him, even giving up your weekly brunches, but you felt it was better this way.

“Listen, I’ll let you know when the next ultrasound is, okay? You can come with me again.” You wanted just to wipe the look of disappointment off his face, and luckily it worked.

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks so much, Y/N,” he leaned down and hugged you, and it was the closest he’d been to you since the last time you’d had sex to make the baby. You held him close, committing the feel of him and the scent of him to memory, before you pulled away and walked towards your car.

---

If the first trimester had been hell, the second trimester was heaven. Miraculously the nausea disappeared, and you found yourself actually craving food. You felt more energized and less tired, and slept so much better. Your belly was starting to grow, and you actually had to start shopping for maternity clothes. Your mood was so much better, but what really came back with a vengeance was your libido. During the first trimester you couldn’t even think about sex, but now, it was all you could think about.

Usually your vibrator would do the trick, but there were always moments where you’d think about Jaehyun, think about how good he could make you feel. Sometimes just thinking about him fucking you was enough to get you off, but when you really thought about him, about the feeling of his cock parting your folds, or the feeling of his strong hips pounding into you, his face sweaty and his scent overpowering the air between you, nothing was better than the real thing.

Which is how you found yourself one night, holding your phone and dialing his number without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered, his voice sounding distant. You realized you hadn’t spoken to or seen him in weeks, and instantly you felt terrible.

“Um, actually nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you could hear him shuffling around, like he had been lying down and started to sit up, “is something wrong, Y/N?”

He always saw right through you, you could hear the concern is his voice, and there was no turning back now.

“Could you come over? I think I need some… company.” You didn’t know if you could just ask for sex over the phone, and was it really only sex that you wanted? Or did you just want him there, with you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I can come over,” you heard more shuffling, like he was getting dressed, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be better when you’re here.” You answered truthfully.

When he showed up at your door you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him towards you and hugging him tightly. He didn’t protest, just held you and rubbed your back gently.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked softly against your hair.

“I miss you,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest because you were too ashamed to look at him.

“I’m around, you know,” he chuckled, “you’re the one who cancelled our brunches.”

You pulled back and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. “No, Jaehyun, I miss you.” You touched his chest when you said it, giving him a look laden with meaning. He understood right away, his eyebrows rising slightly. You took him by the hand and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs and to your bedroom. He let himself be led, but once you were behind closed doors he suddenly took you into his arms and kissed you. The kiss wasn’t subtle, or gentle, it was intense and forceful, his intent surely to rile you up. It definitely worked, because you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stuck his tongue down your throat.

“You want my cock again,” he growled, breaking from the kiss to suck a line down your throat. You gasped at his aggressiveness, but you had to admit it really turned you on.

“Yes,” you breathed out, as he stripped you of your clothes and pushed you towards the bed. You fumbled at his clothes, trying to get them off but you found your limbs were weak from the way he was handling you. He took over, stripping off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing forward when he pulled his boxers down. You admired it for only a second before he turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees on the bed.

“You like my cock, don’t you, you like me fucking into your little pussy,” he spoke so low, his chest flush against your back so you could feel the reverberation of his voice.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, because he rammed his cock into you, a scream tearing from your throat as he went as deep as he could.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to pound into you. You weren’t sure how pregnant sex would feel, since so many things were changing in your body, but you weren’t prepared for what you got. It felt like your entire body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every part of you. He hit places inside you that you’d never felt before, and all of it was like nothing you’d ever experienced.

“Jae,” you panted, “Jae, oh my god!” your orgasm was coming on, super fast and beyond your control.

“You’re gonna come already, baby? Alright, come on, come all over my cock,” he reached down, and although it was a little awkward because of your belly, he managed to get to your clit and rub it with the pad of his thumb.

Your vision went white when your orgasm hit, your fingers and toes going numb as your pussy clenched around his cock. You could barely hold yourself up, your upper body falling to the bed as you convulsed around him. He kept going, fucking you through it, and when you stilled he pulled out and lay you on your back. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, before he entered you again. You cried out at the oversensitivity, but he went slowly, and soon enough you started to feel pleasure again.

“I can keep going,” he said, as he fucked into you at a slow but deliberate pace, “you want more, don’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, already feeling another orgasm building. He propped himself up then, and pounded into you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts. You gripped and pulled at the sheets, unable to contain the needy whines and moans coming up out of your mouth. You forced your eyes open to see him hovering over you, a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. When he saw you looking at him his concentration faltered, and he bent his head down for a kiss. You were expecting a kiss to match the intensity with which he was fucking you, but instead it was soft, gentle, lingering. You felt something in it, something above and beyond what he was doing to you, something that carried you where you most wanted to be but didn’t dare go. The orgasm you had then was different, not just purely physical, not just filled with lust, but something more elevated, more emotional.

He broke the kiss to grunt loudly as he came, spilling more of his seed inside you. When he was done he pulled out, and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, and you don’t know why he sounded so defeated. You sat up, preparing yourself for what he was going to say.

“Jaehyun,” you reached for him but thought better of it, your hand dropping into your lap.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he said, his voice quiet but determined, “it’s fucking me up and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Your heart sank. He was pulling out of your life, and it was all your fault for doing this to him. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun.”

He got dressed hurriedly, without looking back at you, and before he opened the door to leave he turned back.

“You need to decide for yourself what you want me to be,” he still didn’t look at you, opting to look at the floor instead, “I’ll always be here for you, but I need to know where I stand.”

The door closing behind him echoed in the room, the absence of him already settling into your heart.

---

You went through the rest of the second trimester on your own, too ashamed and heartbroken to see Jaehyun, and too confused to sort out your feelings. He’d text you once in a while to ask you how you were doing, how you were feeling, but there was no talk beyond the pregnancy. He didn’t come to any more of your doctor’s appointments, nor did you ever invite him to any more in the first place. The third trimester hit even worse than the first, your belly was now so big it was almost uncomfortable to do anything, you now had constant heartburn, and you were going to the bathroom every ten minutes because of the weight on your bladder.

About a month before your due date, you were making dinner in the kitchen when you felt an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, gripping the counter in alarm and wondering what you should do. The feeling came and went, but returned after a few minutes. Concerned, you called your doctor, who advised you to come in to the hospital just to get checked out. As you were getting ready you got a text from Jaehyun, asking how you were doing.

Jaehyun: hey just doing my check-in

JH: how is it going today

Me: well it’s probably nothing but

Me: just going to the hospital to get checked out

JH: wait what

JH: let me take you

Me: i should be ok

JH: Y/N pls let me take you

Me: ok

JH: thank you i’ll be right there

You sighed, wishing you had never told him and made him worry. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long since he lived nearby, and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You didn’t bother to wait for him to come to the door, coming out as soon as you saw his car. You were locking the front door when the uncomfortable feeling came back, making you double over, clutching your stomach.

“Y/N!” you heard Jaehyun yell behind you, and soon enough his arms were cradling you as you crouched over. “What happened? What’s going on?”

His voice sounded frantic, terrified, and when you looked up in his eyes he looked so scared that it made your chest ache.

You smiled weakly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just false labor,” you patted him on the arm and soon enough the feeling went away. “My doctor just wants me to come in and get checked out, just in case.”

He nodded, but didn’t look reassured at all, creases of worry still lining his face. He also didn’t let you go, holding onto your arm as you walked to the car. At the hospital he didn’t leave your side, until the doctor came to do your examination.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said hesitantly, but you could tell he didn’t want to leave at all, eyes looking longingly back at you as he left the room.

After the doctor examined you and reassured you that it really was just false labor, you were cleared to leave and found Jaehyun in the hall, pacing. Once he saw you he ran up to you, searching your face with frantic eyes.

“Well? What happened?” he’d taken your hands in his, and his palms felt cold and clammy.

“It was nothing, just false labor, the doctor told me to go home and rest.” You reassured him, squeezing his hands and smiling softly at him. He let out a long breath, collapsing into a nearby chair.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I almost died!” he passed the back of his hand over his eyes dramatically, and you suppressed a giggle at his overdramatic show.

“Don’t laugh!” he sat up and looked at you incredulously, “I lost ten years of my life just now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” you pressed your lips together trying not to smile. He broke into a wide grin then, pleased with himself that he had managed to lighten your mood with his sense of humor.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

---

The drive from the hospital had been quiet, both of you realizing that there was still this huge wall between you, and neither of you were brave enough to breach it. He walked you to your door in continued silence, and once you reached your doorstep he turned around to walk back to his car.

“Jaehyun,” you called, unable to stand it anymore, “do you wanna come in and talk?”

He turned around, a mixture of hope, fear, and resignation on his face, and nodded.

The time apart had made you realize how much you missed him, and seeing him again had made you realize how much you still wanted him to be a part of your life. You were hoping to salvage something of your relationship, but you were fully aware that you could never go back to what it had been.

You sat him down on the sofa and took a deep breath.

“Jaehyun,” you began, getting more and more nervous as you went on, “I know I made things weird, even though I promised I wouldn’t,” he opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him, determined to get out what you wanted to say. “I was so focused on having a baby that I didn’t think about what involving you would mean, and what it would do to our friendship. I think I was just naive, I didn’t think anything would change, and I was so wrong.”

He sat across from you, and even though he was just inches away it felt like he was miles away, like an unfathomable chasm had opened up between you. Then he looked up at you, hesitant, but determined.

“Y/N, we can’t go back and change things anymore. What’s happened has happened.” He tilted his head to regard you, taking a deep breath before moving on, “so I just need to know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want me to be a part of your life?”

“Yes. Always.” You answered truthfully, without a doubt in your mind. He smiled, but there was still something behind his eyes.

“Hey, do you remember that pact we made in eighth grade?” He suddenly asked, his eyes twinkling.

“The marriage one?” you scanned your eighth grade memories and that was the only pact you could think of.

“Yeah, the one where we said if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other?”

“Yes, I remember.” It was during PE class, when you and Jaehyun were sitting in the field while everyone else was running around chasing soccer balls. You don’t remember how the subject came up, but soon enough you were doing pinky swears and Jaehyun was fashioning rings out of blades of grass for you and him to wear. You both had a good laugh over it, and never thought about it again until this moment.

“So what if we didn’t wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we didn’t wait until we��re thirty, what if we just did it now? I mean, we’re having a baby together already.”

“Jaehyun, are you proposing right now?” you said it as a joke, even chuckling to yourself, you weren’t taking the whole thing seriously at all, except Jaehyun wasn’t laughing.

“I mean, I don’t have a ring, but…” he looked around the room, and seeing your spider plant on a nearby table he picked a leaf off and rolled it around itself, making a ring out of it, and slipped it on your finger. You were speechless.

“Jaehyun, you’re serious.” You managed to say after the thoughts stopped running through your brain. You hadn’t really thought about marriage, none of the guys you’d dated had ever made you think about it. You knew you wanted kids, but marriage was something you figured you couldn’t achieve, never having found the right guy. Yet here he was all along, Jeong Jaehyun, your best friend, someone who knew you inside and out. A dawning realization hit you then, that maybe none of your relationships ever worked out because you kept comparing them to Jaehyun, and no one ever held up. You were in love with your best friend, and you didn’t even know it.

“Well?” he asked, with raised eyebrows and hopeful eyes. You stared at the leaf ring on your finger, turning it around and around, your heart and mind finally finding peace in your realization. You looked up at him, cupping his face, and he looked like he was bracing himself for a possibly negative response.

“Yes.” You answered, smiling brightly at him, and it took him a moment to realize you weren’t turning him down. His face broke out into a wide grin, his dimples as deep as ever, his eyes shiny. He pulled you in for a hug, but your belly made it somewhat awkward.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re huge!” he looked down at your belly in awe.

“Jaehyun what the fuck!” you smacked him on the arm, slightly offended.

“No, I meant I was too busy being worried about you that I never noticed how big your belly had gotten.” He reached out his hand tentatively. “Can I touch?”

“Of course,” you said, happy that you could share this with him. You took his hand and placed it on your belly.

“Can you feel the baby move?” He asked, eyes growing wide when his hand landed on your stomach.

“Sometimes, mostly when I’m lying still though.” You let him rub his hand over your stomach, endeared at how awestruck he was, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he moved his hand around. He suddenly leaned forward, his face getting very close to your belly.

“Hey little one,” he called softly, and your heart clenched at the sight of him talking to the baby in your belly, “I’m your dad.”

Suddenly you felt a jolt in your ribs, as the baby stretched and kicked inside you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Did you feel that?” Jaehyun clapped excitedly.

“Damn right I felt it,” you groaned, patting your stomach, “keep it down in there, kicking mama in the ribs really hurts!”

Jaehyun burst out laughing, gathering you in his arms and hugging you tightly. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, and your heart felt warm as you wrapped your arms around him.

---

You decided to just do a small backyard ceremony for your wedding, neither of you fond of big parties that meant even bigger expenses. Jaehyun moved into your house since he had been rooming with a friend, and once all of his things had been moved in and installed, you were left alone with each other once again.

You don’t know why, but your first night as a married couple felt like the first night you’d had sex, awkward as hell. Once again you stood on either side of the bed, unsure as to what to do.

“Bed?” he finally asked after you’d both stood there for too long.

“Bed,” you answered, and you both got in at the same time. You couldn’t help but laugh at your awkwardness, and that certainly broke the tension. You turned to your side, the only way you could get comfortable with how big your belly was, and he slotted his body behind you, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your belly. You sighed contentedly, loving the feeling of being in his arms.

“This is nice,” he whispered, but his breath against your ear made you shiver, and suddenly contentment wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. Not to mention his hand that was on your belly had moved to your hip, fingers tracing wide circles over the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Jaehyun,” you didn’t mean to, but his name came out in a moan, and his hand stopped its circuit, the faintest bit of pressure being applied to your hip.

“Y/N?” he questioned, but you were taking his hand and moving it up to your breasts. Once he cupped them you moaned again. “Holy shit, Y/N, your boobs are huge!”

“Jaehyun!” you reprimanded him, but he apologized quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-” he cupped and squeezed, feeling the weight of them, “wow,” was all he could say.

“Well they won’t be this big for too long, so you better take advantage of them now,” you encouraged, and he did, tweaking your nipples until you were moaning into your pillow.

“Tell me if I do anything that hurts, or makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he whispered into your ear, before he started to plant wet kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your mind went hazy at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and soon he slipped a hand down, past the waistband of your shorts.

You inhaled sharply when his fingers found you wet, when he gathered some of your arousal to rub it around your clit. You moaned loudly when he made circles around your bud, pressing your face further into your pillow.

“Don’t do that, baby, I wanna hear you,” he pulled the covers off and pushed your pillow away, helping you take off your shirt and the rest of your clothes so you were fully exposed to him. He looked at you, lust and hunger clouding his eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous knocked up with my baby.”

Your pussy clenched at his words and you pulled at his own clothes to get him to take them off. “Come here and fuck me, husband.”

Your words ignited something in him, and he bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing into you. You cried out, not caring anymore how loud you were being, the feeling of his cock inside you throwing you into the heights of pleasure. Once you started though, you couldn’t stop, moans and whimpers and whines tumbling out of your lips as he pumped his cock inside you.

“You like it, don’t you?” he growled, “you like my cock so much you let me knock you up.”

You moaned even louder at his words, your orgasm starting to build in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, god, yes!”

“You want my cum, baby? Look at where it got you, huh? You let me come inside you and now you’re knocked up.” His voice was raspy, deep, and it cut right to your core.

“Fuck, Jaehyun! I’m gonna come!” you warned him, grasping at the sheets as your orgasm hit you, your pussy pulsing around his cock. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, one last thrust that took your breath away, and he spilled his seed into you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “did it hurt at all?”

“No, not at all, it felt good,” you smiled at him, wanting to alleviate his concern. He looked relieved, before he bent down and kissed the swell of your stomach.

“Sorry, baby,” he said sheepishly, addressing the baby, and you could only laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair as he smiled up at you.

---

The next day Jaehyun had left for work, and you were almost out the door yourself when you felt something gush between your legs. You figured you knew what it was and, resolved to stay calm, you quickly called Jaehyun.

“Babe, what is it?” he answered on the first ring.

“I think my water broke.”

“Okay, stay calm, I’m on my way back.”

It didn’t take long for him to come back since he’d just left, and you drove to the hospital all the while holding tightly to his hand. The contractions started then, not too bad at first but as time went on the pain was hard to bear. By the time you reached the hospital you were grimacing in pain and Jaehyun was yelling for someone to come and help you.

You labored for hours, Jaehyun never leaving your side, giving you strength even when you felt like you had no more to give. You wondered how you could have ever done this without him, without his unwavering support, his cheerful but calm demeanor raising you up when you felt like giving in. Soon enough you had a healthy baby in your hands, a boy that an ecstatic Jaehyun had already dubbed his ‘mini me’.

---

If you had known what the first few weeks with a newborn would have been like you would have seriously rethought having a baby in the first place. You were exhausted more than you had ever been in your life, catching sleep for only those precious moments when the baby would sleep. Your breasts were sore from breastfeeding, and if you never saw another poopy diaper in your life it would be too soon. What made it all worth it, was the look of pure innocence in your baby’s eyes, and the way your husband would stare at him like he was the most precious person in the world.

One night you were woken again by the baby’s cries, and trudging to his room you were surprised to see Jaehyun already there.

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered, “I was changing him and he lost his binky.” You stood in the doorway and watched as your husband expertly handled your son, swaddling him in his blankets and making sure the pacifier was situated in his mouth. “Go back to bed, I got this.”

Jaehyun had done many things during your time together that you considered sexy, but this was probably the sexiest thing he had ever done. You walked back to your bedroom, mentally reminding yourself to reward him when you were more awake.

You lay in bed though, unable to fall back asleep. Your mind was racing, anxieties resurfacing at that dark and quiet time of night. Jaehyun eventually came back, sliding into the bed and spooning you, his arm coming to wrap around your waist.

“Jae?” you whispered, hoping he hadn’t fallen back asleep right away.

“Hm? I thought you were asleep.” He sounded tired, tightening his arm around you.

“Is this the life you wanted?” you asked him, rubbing his arm that was wrapped around you.

“Absolutely.” He answered, without hesitation.

“No, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Why wouldn’t you think I was being serious?” he suddenly propped himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.

“Because you had a life before this, and now it’s just-” you waved your hand in the air, “me and the baby.”

“Just you and the baby? Y/N, you and Yuno are the most important things in my life right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yeah I had Friday night drinks and Sunday basketball games, and that was fun and all, but you two are my family now.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“If I did I’d just go and do it? So no, I don’t miss it right now. Maybe eventually? But that doesn’t mean I’d love you and Yuno less.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you, but you knew you’d never get tired of hearing it. You’d been surprised when he’d told you he’d been in love with you for a while, not daring to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship. When you’d told him that you wanted to have a baby he knew that there was no one else in the world that he wanted to bear his children except you, and he was relieved when you accepted his offer of being a sperm donor. He had been prepared to be just that, but the sex threw everything into chaos, including his feelings for you and his resolve to keep your relationship as just friends. He felt himself falling even deeper for you, but his heart couldn’t handle the push and pull he was feeling from you. He never wanted to pull out of your life, and he spent more time staring at his phone waiting for you to call or text than he dared to admit. Bringing up the marriage pact had been a gamble, and he was terrified that you’d say no, but when you said yes, he could barely contain his happiness.

“Listen,” he said, taking your hand in his, “this life is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“Really?” you asked, turning to look at him, “With me?”

“Baby, it’s always been you.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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rayofsunas · 3 years

Text

pretending you’re not his s/o. [1]

A/n: happy Thursday!! whew, the week is almost over thank goodness. I hope you’re all doing well and thank you for being patient while I knock out these requests <333 Scaramouche’s is long for obvious reasons (I simp) ALSO thank you for 800 followers, I hit that milestone yesterday ahagdwcsh omg I’m growing so much wtf. thank you all :) <33

Summary: the boys having to pretend their s/o is their secretary, maid, friend, etc. (someone other than their s/o)

Parings: Childe/Reader, Venti/Reader, Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Aether/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Chongyun/Reader, Xingqiu/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Razor/Reader, Bennett/Reader, Zhongli (fem and gn mixed)

Warnings: violence tbh (in Scara’s especially chile), swearing, crack, angst?, fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Requested by bestie @mintydump

Refuses (tells people you’re his s/o and compromises the mission)

Childe: for some odd reason, he was sent out by the Tsaritsa to retrieve a man who was impersonating one of the eleven harbingers and you were to go along. she said men were much more willing to follow along, if there was a beautiful woman promising affection, etc. the only problem was, to win over the impersonator, you had to pretend to be Childe’s co-worker. he hated this idea, and the minute he left, he reassured you he would not call you his partner unless it was romantically. so hell yeah, he’ll compromise the mission and will return without the impersonator. he does not care, you’re not his co-worker. he’ll just be like, “sorry, next time send me alone.”

Venti: jean why... ofc you'd be great company duh, but why did you need to be his babysitter on this expedition?!? sure, Venti may look like a child, but this was stupid! he’s loose-lipped anyways, so he’ll accidentally let it slip to whoever that you’re not his babysitter and that you’re his s/o. he’ll be like, “oops.” with the biggest shit-eating grin. he doesn’t care though, you’re not his babysitter grrr.

Razor: he also accidentally lets it slip you’re his s/o. hunters were after him and his friends, you included (you’re human, he considers you family though, therefore wolf) and he just yells, “don’t touch my mate, GRRR” before ya know, ending them lmao. it never crossed his mind that maybe it wasn’t in his/your best interest to say what you were to him. other hunters could be nearby listening and then target you at a later date. but, tbh he will worry about that another day. as long as you’re safe now, he’ll always be there to protect you.

Refuses (he doesn’t refuse the mission, but he refuses calling you someone other than his s/o/he won’t say if you’re his s/o or not.)

Kaeya: he definitely won’t be calling you anything other than his s/o but he also won’t offer this mission to anyone else. he’s more than capable and he can do this without you having to be in danger too. if someone asks who you are, he’ll just cooly respond with, “none of your business.” and move on. he’ll use that whenever someone asks who you are. even if someone gets a little pushy, he won’t use anything to clue them of your relationship.

Xingqiu: he was supposed to borrow steal a book from someone. he needed it for personal purposes lol; it would be great for his collection. and from his understanding, the person who has it wasn’t using it. though you were confused on why he needed to break into somewhere to retrieve it. you just happened to be with him when he broke in, he says it was an accident that you were there, but tbh it’s all part of the thrill and his mischievousness. despite Chongyun warning him that he shouldn’t have brought you, he still did. and when the person who owns the book whips out a sword and then asks why you were brought along if you seemed timid and unreluctant to steal, Xingqiu’s response is, “well she’s my girlfriend! duh.” cue deadpan. legit no hesitation.

Scaramouche: this mission is happening no matter what. the Tsaritsa’s life is on the line; highly trained assassins from all over Teyvat were sent into Snezhnayan territory to kill her. she could protect herself, but Scaramouche was feeling feverish for battle; he was one of the more unhinged and dangerous harbingers, she entrusted this task upon him. he never turned down a mission. plus, it’s your fault you’re even here. why are you here again!? he left you home in Inazuma days ago. also... who the hell was looking after your daughter if not you...?? when you caught up with him once he was well away from Liyue Harbor’s docks (so he couldn’t force you to get back onto the ship, smart) you told him you weren’t some housewife and you missed the thrill of adventure, so you snuck on the ship too. he wasn’t sure how you got on in the first place without alerting The Kanjobugyo (you’ve snuck out before, so he’s told them not to let you leave, though he assumed you used your former title of a Fatui to gain clearance) let’s just say he’s not happy you’re here, but he’s not turning back now, he’s determined to end this. in the end, he kills all the assassins (ofc). on your way back to Liyue Harbor, arguing about why you’re here (you’re losing), another assassin comes out of the shadows; intent on killing the both of you. he’d managed to grab the end of your hair in his fist and was going to slit your throat. Scaramouche will say, “don’t touch my wife, you insolent scum.” he doesn’t have a problem telling those who have a death wish of your intimate relationship, because they’ll die in the end anyway; therefore to him, it’d be like they never knew.

Zhongli: not many people know you’re his s/o anyways, so if he has something to do, especially dangerous you’re not coming along. he’ll make sure of that. on missions or something, he refuses to call you anything other than his s/o, but if he can’t/wants to keep it private he’ll call you by your name. if you’re facing off against someone, he’ll be like, “y/n, please watch out, I’ll handle this.” he never wants to put you in danger, and tbh even someone threatening who knows your name is a risk, but if they ever found out that you were not only his s/o but the s/o of an Archon? yeah, you’d be on a hit list just like him.

Accepts (he will do this and won’t ask any questions)

Diluc: sorry y’all, but once this is discussed in full and you agree, he’s going to accept it. this mission is important. it’s not often people travel into Inazuma, so he was very lucky his wine is sold there and that he has a popular, well-known name. shipments of his wine weren’t making it into the borders and he was to find the culprit behind it; someone was stealing obviously. you were to go along with a few other soldiers and when jean told him it would be safer to call you his maid and not his fiancé, he agreed. you wouldn’t be a target that way. if anyone wonders why he took his maid, he’ll just say, “she’s to travel everywhere with me.” don’t worry, after the missions over he’ll reassure you he doesn’t think of you as his maid, definitely not. he’ll apologize profusely. “please don’t think of yourself that way, you’re not my maid, I adore you very much, sweetheart.”

Xiao: he already doesn’t go around calling you his wife or telling just anyone, only the Archons know and the fallen Yaksha once knew (you’re one of the female Yaksha) so being talked into this wasn’t a big deal at all. before, he didn’t run around Liyue telling people about your relationship because you both enjoyed the privacy. but now, having to call you his fellow Yaksha who’s been working alongside him for centuries, kinda feels like he’s ignoring or not acknowledging you. sure, you do hold the same titles (Yaksha) and yes you’ve known eachother for centuries, but really, you’ve been together for centuries. if you’re not bothered, then he doesn’t mind. but if you are? he’s very apologetic and will repay you in some way. “you’re not a weakling, you have no reason to worry.” he needs to do this task, he’ll never turn away from the people and if you have to be known as your Yaksha title to him and others, so be it.

Chongyun: it’s not that he doesn’t want to call you his s/o. it’s just he’s a quiet guy and never has told anyone about your relationship; only Xingqiu knows. so he has no problem introducing you as his friend to absolute strangers, especially if you’re okay with it. if you’re not and tell him, he’ll be sure to never call you a friend again. he’s really looking out for your safety, people can be two-faced as he’s learned from Xingqiu’s fantasy books. he wants to protect and keep you safe, and if you need to be addressed as his friends a few times then that’s how it’s going to go.

Accepts (he’ll accept but he has so many questions on why and hates it)

Albedo: he will accept if there’s a logical reason. for example, if you absolutely need to come because you’re his assistant or something and can offer your expertise, he will accept. but if you have no need? you’re not coming, please stay home. the whole time, he hates this. yes, you’re his assistant irl, but you’re his s/o, not just an assistant. it makes him sick that he has to call you that tbh, even if it’s your occupation. but it’s necessary for a lot of reasons you two have already discussed. after the mission is complete, he’s never going to stop apologizing. “love, please do not take what I said to heart, you’re not just an assistant.”

Aether: he has to be talked into this a lot. once kaeya and jean tell him the seriousness and importance of seeing his sister again, especially after all they’ve discovered about her, he’ll agree. no matter how much he hates calling you his travel partner, he has to. his sister has turned to the dark side for whatever reason and this meeting already is risky enough. if she finds out you’re his girlfriend, who knows how she’ll react; she’s very unpredictable now, a little unhinged even. but it does hurt to have to call you that, let’s be real. he never wants to say or hear that ever again.

Bennett: he knows he’s quite unfortunate, so you going with him on expeditions is just stupid and you could face something awful due to his bad luck. you go either way though, what a good s/o :) he almost slips a few times, especially facing off against a few lowlife Fatui. but then you remind him of the dangers of doing that and you’re immediately just a friend/member of Benny's Adventure Team. pls, he hates this so much, like why can’t he call you what you are?!? he’s constantly like, “well why can’t I just say you’re my s/o already? they won’t harm you as long as I’m here!” ?!?!?!? HE JUST DID?!?!?!?!

2.25.21, rayofsunas

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nineteenninety-six · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol.

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

#Hector #hector castlevania #Castlevania #castlevania imagines #hector x reader #imagines #castlevania imagine #imagine #x reader #castlevania fanfiction

305 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

i don't care, i'm in love

a/n: alright sexies, part two! of my last thing you guys liked! idk if anyone's noticed just yet but the titles are from tame impala's song 'new person, same old mistakes' because the song is fire asf. anyways. enough talking, here it is! enjoy! (sorry this took so long lol, i had no idea where i was going w this plot after part 1.)

warnings: penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), choking, cursing. this story is 18+ !!! tap off if you're a minor. this is your warning.

wc: 4k words

[bucky barnes x fem!reader]

read part one here!

It's been a few days since your outburst with Bucky in the kitchen. While you haven't made eye contact with him whenever you've been in the same room, you've practically felt his looks from across the room.

The air had definitely shifted in any room where you were both present. Nobody still knows about your past relationship, and you don't intend on telling anyone about it.

You've decided to let Bucky stew in silence, not allowing any leeway. If he wanted to be stubborn, this is where it would land him. He chose his own fate in the end, and now he would have to suffer the consequences.

And it was pretty awkward, to say the least. It was currently movie night in the Avengers Tower, and you were all in the movie theater. Tony had selected a rom-com tonight, as superheroes do. You were sat with Natasha on a loveseat, your legs swung over hers as your shared snacks were laid on your lap for the both of you.

She had, of course, noticed your change in demeanor since your impromptu break-up. You hadn't divulged in the details with her, not wanting to out the relationship. Even though you wanted to be petty as ever, you decided you were going to be the mature one in this situation.

And then Bucky walks in.

With a... another girl?

Maybe you weren't taking the high road after all.

You instantly feel a heat wash over your body, making you want to scream and cry and laugh in incredulity all at the same time.

What the fuck?

"Hey guys, I brought a date to movie night, if that's alright..." His voice sounded like nails on a blackboard to you right now. "This is Sophia."

He says it so simply that no one knows what to say. Everyone spares a glance at you, and for a second, you wonder if he had told anyone.

But everyone had somewhat of an idea that Bucky likes you!

So now, everyone was a bit confused.

"Uhm, yeah, nice to meet ya. Take a seat anywhere." Steve's voice cuts the suffocating silence.

You make brief eye contact with Bucky, but you look away as fast as you had looked in the first place. You felt like there was a golf ball lodged in your throat, and if you didn't stop yourself, you think you would've strangled that motherfu-

You're led out of your train of thought by a light tap on your arm. Natasha gives you a look that's saying, you look like you're about to kill someone. Are you okay?

You shake your head, letting her know you're just fine. Everything's fine. Bucky's over there, with another girl, who's holding his hand. And you've been here wondering for the past two months what's been so wrong about you that he couldn't do the same with you. Let alone even tell people you were in a relationship.

And you're not going to lie. This stung. Really bad.

Although you wanted to sit here and act as unbothered as possible, it was hard. You wanted to enjoy your night, watch your movie, and go to bed. This was a turn of events that you weren't expecting in the least.

The tension in the room was too much, everyone exchanging glances back and forth between you, Bucky, and Sophia. They were all confused. There was an obvious tension between you and Bucky, and although it was never anything serious to them, they all thought he would man up soon enough and ask you out.

Now, sympathetic looks were being shot across the room between all the team members, and no one could say really say anything.

Suddenly, Steve sits up in his seat and glares at his friend.

"Buck, can ya help me bring some snacks from the kitchen?" The blond asks, not waiting for a reply from the brunet.

Once they're safely out of earshot from the movie room, Steve grasps Bucky's shoulder in a tight hold that has Bucky wincing.

"What the hell, man?" His voice comes out strained and laced with confusion.

"Buck, I think I should be asking you that question." Steve says. "Don't play fuckin' dumb with me. You know what I wanna talk about."

"Well, please do enlighten me-"

"Oh would ya drop it? Sophia? I'm sure she's a great gal, but for the past six months you've been bitchin' and moanin' about Y/N." Steve cuts his friend off, trying to gauge the situation.

"I just... things went south. I needed somethin' new... somethin' different." Bucky's voice was meek, almost like he was afraid to admit this to his best friend of 90 years.

"What... whaddaya mean things went... south? Did you tell her you liked her and she rejected you or somethin'?" The blond asks, brows pulled together in confusion.

"I just... I can't really explain to you what happened but... it was bad. I fucked up, Stevie." Bucky's head is still tilted downwards in guilt.

"Buck, you know you can tell me anything, right?" A hand is placed on his shoulder, and he wants to shrug it off, I don't deserve any comfort, he thinks. I did this all by myself.

"Can I just... I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone. Especially Tony or Nat. Or Wanda." Steve gives him a brief nod, motioning for Bucky to go on.

"Y/N and I had been... seeing each other for the past two months..." Bucky starts to explain, and Steve's eyes are jut about popping out of their sockets by the time he finishes explaining.

A few moments pass, and silence soaks the air surrounding them.

"You... you two were dating... in secret? You didn't tell me?" The look Steve gave Bucky made the latter's insides twist in the worst way possible. He should've told his best friend.

"Steve, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We agreed to keep it between us until... "

"Until she decided she'd had enough."

"Yeah."

A pregnant pause and flat face followed, and flat face followed, and Bucky's now realizing how much he's fucked up. Not in the first place, per se, but by bringing Sophia here.

"So can you tell me why you've dragged that poor girl here?" Steve breaks the silence first.

"I-I... I met her at a bar a couple nights ago. Needed to get out, have a drink. She came up to me and asked me for my number, and... yeah."

What Bucky didn't explain is that as soon as she started talking to him, she had immediately realized he was painfully in love with someone else. She had been kind, understanding of his situation. Instead of trying to get in bed with him, she sat down with him while he explained to her how he got himself in this mess.

"You know... I can help you..." Sophia tells him with innocent eyes.

"Really? How?" Bucky's tone was incredulous, like the mere idea of doing something about this whole thing was possible.

"Well, she seems to care about you a lot. But maybe you just need to get a... reaction out of her. She's unbothered now, she says she 'moved on.' Show her she hasn't." She explains.

"But...how?"

And thus... this situation was born.

"So... Sophia has absolutely no interest in you, and you brought her here to make Y/N jealous?" Steve looks at his friend like he has three heads, and Bucky now realizes just how dumb this all looks.

"Well... yeah. This was a bad idea, wasn't it? I should just go take Sophia home-"

"No! You already got this far, and if you do that it might give Y/N the wrong idea. Just- just go with it for the rest of the night and see what happens." Steve says. "Now, let's get the snacks."

Bucky helps him, and they head back into the movie room. He notices your tense form against Natasha. Sophia's making conversation with Sam, and if you were in a cartoon, you're sure there would be steam coming out of your ears.

The movie goes by in a blur, and even though your eyes were glued to the screen, you feel like you didn't even watch the movie. You were too busy being hyperaware of the way Sophia held onto Bucky's arm like if was her lifeline, and quite frankly, you wanted to punch the living daylights out of the both of them.

Once the movie's finished and the lights turn on, you waste no time in heading to your room after a quick goodnight to everyone.

You're getting ready for bed with slams of closet doors and dresser drawers, absolutely enraged with everything. Why was this bothering you so much? But more importantly, how was Bucky so quick to move on? Like you were nothing to him? Like you were the dirt under his shoe?

And although you were too proud to say it, it stung like a motherfucker.

Before you could get ahead of yourself, a knock is coming from your door.

You're sure it's Natasha trying to make sure you're alright, but after months of acting unaffected, all you wanted to do was get under your covers and cry.

"Nat, I'm sorry but I'm really not in the mood-" But when you swung the door open, it was none other than your ex-boyfriend."What the hell are you doing here?"

Your tone was venomous, and all Bucky could see was the tiredness and rage behind your irises.

"I- Can I talk to you?" His voice is timid, like he's afraid to even ask for your time.

"About what? Don't you have someone to tend to?" You wonder out loud, and you can't help the way your heart twists at the thought of Bucky and Sophia. The way he had no problem holding her, touching her, loving her.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N."

It even hurt to think that.

"What do you want, Barnes?" You query in an indifferent tone.

"I-I waned to talk to you, alone." He responds, and his palms are sliding down his thighs to wipe off the sweat.

"Don't you have to take your date home?"

He was quiet for a moment, trying to gauge how to handle you right now. One wrong word or move, and he was out.

"Y/N, can I please just talk to you? One night we're sleeping in each others' beds, and the next we're strangers? How- how does that even make sense?" He's trying to make sense of the past few weeks and the events that led up to the demise of your relationship.

He knows, but he doesn't want to say it out loud.

"Well, I wonder who's fault that was?" You ask snarkily.

Apparently, you weren't afraid to say it.

"You were the one that did this. I get it. This was new for you, but at some point, enough was enough! I- I was basically dirt under your shoe, James! I- I couldn't fucking take it anymore! I just- you were so easy with Steve and Natasha. And then you would shake me off like I was some pest, some bug." You choked on your words, tears pricking behind your eyes. You turned away before Bucky could see them, not wanting to let him see you like this.

You've put on a tough front, because you didn't want anyone to think that you'd get so hung up over some boy, but it was hard to do so when you were giving your all into a relationship while you got the bare minimum back.

Bucky watches you from your doorway, and as you turn away, he takes this as a sign to come in and shut the door behind him.

"Y/N, please, let me talk. I-I just need to talk. To get it all out. I'm begging you, please." And beg he did. He was on the floor, quite literally on his knees. You couldn't even comprehend how not even an hour ago, he brought a new girl in.

And now he was on his knees before you. Begging.

"Get up."

Your voice cracked, but it was still strong. You weren't in the mood to have a man beg at your feet, and you felt it was quite pathetic that he was on his knees right now when he's the reason you two had ended up like this.

Whatever this was.

"O-Okay. Does that mean I can talk?" He asks tentatively, rising to his feet slowly.

"You have five minutes."

He was quiet at first, and you wondered if he even had anything to say. If he was just here to waste your time, to cause even more heartache-

"I- Can I just start off by saying, in the almost three months we were together, I never, ever, wanted to make you feel anything less than what you really are. You're kind, caring, beautiful, the smartest person I've ever met. But above all those things, you were patient with me. And that was never something I had before with someone else. No one was as patient and as attentive as you were, and I need you to know." He pauses, catching his breath from his rambling.

"Know what?" Your tone was venomous, trying to hold back the tears prickling behind your eyes.

"That I have dreamt of a girl like you for decades. You are everything-" he chokes on his words, eyes glossing over, "everything I've ever wanted, and more. And I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you. How I made you feel, and how I felt the need to hide us. I should've just been honest with everyone from the start, and it cost me everything in the end. So I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you, in any way possible. Because you deserve it. You deserve so much better than someone who- who doesn't know how to love. How to hold your hand and not want to cry because he feels like he doesn't deserve it. You deserve the entire universe, Y/N."

Bucky finishes speaking, looking so deeply into your eyes that you can't help but let the facade crack.

Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, trying to take a deep breath.

"Wh-what about... Sophia?" You struggle to ask through your emotions, trying to hold yourself back from flinging yourself into his arms.

"I- She's... not relevant. I met her at a bar the day we... ended things, and she said 'it was clear I was going through a heartbreak,' and that she wanted to help me get you back." Bucky laughs a bit at the whole situation now, and how fucking badly he had fucked up.

"But if you don't want to get back together, I understand. Just know, I still feel the same. But if you give me another chance, I promise you it'll be different. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you, and I don't want to hide anything about us. To anyone." He affirms, moving to hold your hands in his.

And surprisingly, you didn't pull away.

No matter how much your brain was screaming, yelling to pull away!

But you couldn't. You wanted to believe every word that came out of his mouth, and you didn't care if anyone thought you were being naive or stupid. You just wanted to hold him again, to call him James again, and to have him whisper sweet nothings in your ears.

And as all these thoughts were running through your head, you see Bucky slowly backing away, assuming your silence meant you were telling him to leave.

"I-Wait. Wait. We have a- a lot to talk about, but I'm not giving up on us yet. But I want a full explanation, top to bottom about everything. And- you have to promise me things will be different between us. We can't have things like they were before, and-"

And before you could continue your rambles, you were stopped by the feeling of his lips on yours.

You could feel his rough ones moulding against your soft, cherry-flavoured ones from your lip balm. His eyes were closed, and so were yours. Any thoughts you had were thrown out the window, and all you could focus on right now was him.

He was invading all your senses in the best way possible. In this moment, you realized he was being completely honest and truthful in what he'd said earlier. Of course, you wouldn't let him forget about all this so easily, but right now, all that mattered were his hands running all over your waist and neck.

"J-James," you breathed out, disconnecting from him.

His eyes search yours, wondering if this is where you give him the boot, and tell him to leave it at this.

But oh, was he wrong.

"Lock the door for me?"

His mouth is akin to that of a fish out of water, wondering to himself if his brain was conjuring this image in his head after weeks of not having you.

"A-Are you sure? If you don't want to we don't have to-" And now he's the one getting cut off with your lips.

It had been enough suffering for the both of you these past few weeks.

"James, I'm sure. Help a girl out?" You smile coyly, slowly walking backwards until you reach your bed and sit down. Your eyes stay on James' blue ones while he rushes to lock to door.

He's hovering over you, waiting to see if you'll make a move.

"Well, aren't you gonna fuck me?"

At those words, the man above you snaps out of his stupor, and lets out an animalistic growl, lunging at you and making both your bodies fall back onto the fluffy white duvet of your bed.

"Can I take this off of you?" James hands are pinching at the fabric of your t-shirt, and you fervently nod in response.

"Words, honey." He coaxes and receives a meek but clear 'yes' from you.

He wastes no time slipping it off your form, only breaking apart from you for air to do so.

Soon enough, your panting forms were both almost bare, left down to just underwear. James slowly moves to settle himself between your thighs, but your hand catches onto his wrist before he could move any further.

"You don't have to, James. I want you inside me already." Although you usually never complained about getting head, you were aching to feel him inside you.

"C'mon angel, I've missed how your sweet lil' pussy tastes." The words coming out of his mouth combined with the feeling of the small pecks he's placing against your inner thighs have you practically shaking.

Along with his scruff giving the sensitive skin a delicious burn, you couldn't bring yourself to say no to James.

He guides your soaked panties down your legs, placing your calves against his shoulders to hold them open.

"Mmm, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to have my mouth between these legs again, sugar. Missed ya so much." He mumbles to you, licking a broad stripe up your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you scramble to find something to grab onto.

With one hand in his brunet locks, Bucky continues his ministrations. He alternates between using his tongue and sucking on your sensitive button, building up your climax.

James listens to your small gasps and whimpers, paying attention to what brought you the most pleasure.

"Oh!" You let out a whimper at the feeling of Bucky's fingers hitting your sweet spot inside you.

Before you knew it, the throbbing in your heat was spreading all through your body, causing your first earth-shattering orgasm of the night.

You're chanting James over and over again, like a prayer.

"That's it, sweetheart, give it all t'me." He coaxes you through your high, allowing for you to come down.

Your eyes are bleary and you barely sense James coming back up over you. His fingers are opening your mouth, allowing you to taste them.

"Taste yourself, honey. So sweet, missed havin' you." He leaves pecks on your forehead, nose, and cheek, before circling back to your mouth when he pulls his fingers back out.

When he pulls away again, his nose is brushing against yours. You still feel like you're floating, but you open your eyes slowly to be met with his bright cerulean ones.

"You have a condom?" James' voice is gravelly as he speaks against your lips.

"No, I'm clean and still on the pill. Wanna feel all of you." You whisper while your fingers roam through his locks.

"A-Are you sure?" He asks, trying to ignore the involuntary twitch of his cock at your words.

"I'm sure, James. I've never been more sure of doing anything with anyone." You say, letting your hand move down to his boxers.

Your hand dips into the waistband, grasping him with your palm.

"Wanna feel all of this." You barely speak, but he understands every word you say.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and thrown somewhere across the room.

James sits back, running his cock through your juices for lubrication, eliciting a sigh from the both of you.

"Fuck, I missed you so much, doll." He grits out while he pushes into you slowly. "Can't believe I was so stupid and almost lost ya for good."

"I-I'm right here, baby. You won't ever lose me." You reassure him, letting him fill you to the brim.

"God, can't get enough of this tight pussy, baby." James is thrusting at an even pace now, and you can feel every inch of him inside you.

You release moans of ecstacy and pleasure in his ear as he stays above you, and while you're only half-conscious of what you're doing, you grab his metal arm and bring it to your throat.

His eyes shoot open but his pace never falters, looking at you for silent reassurance.

The white-hot feeling in your core builds at the feeling, not wanting it to stop.

"You sure?"

"Yes, please." All he needed was your whimper to moan at the sight of his hand around your throat.

"H-Holy shit. I- Come with me baby, c'mon." His voice is strained, like it's paining him to speak.

"I'm- I'm coming James. Come with me, baby." You gasp out, feeling the stirring in your belly reach its' peak.

Soon enough, you're both coming undone, breathing into each others' mouths while working through your highs together.

You feel him spurting inside you, painting your walls white. His rocking slowly comes to a stop, allowing him to open his eyes and focus on you. Your thumbs are brushing over his cheekbones, soaking in him just being here, with you.

"C'mon, let me get you cleaned up, angel." James slowly pulls out of you, being careful to not hurt you.

You see the light flicker on in your bathroom and hear the sink running. He returns with a rag and brushes it gently between your legs, feeling you shiver at how sensitive you are.

"Sorry, honey." James' whisper comes from below, and you smile down with soft eyes.

You were completely besotted for this man.

Once the rag is thrown into your laundry hamper, Bucky retrieves his boxers and pulls them on.

For a moment, you feel a flash through your body, your heart seizing at the thought of him leaving now.

"A-Are you leaving?" You barely recognize your own voice, feeling pathetic for feeling so vulnerable.

Bucky just looks at you. He's dumbfounded at you right now. How could you think that after everything, especially after what had just happened, that he would leave you. How he could ever let you go again.

And again, the question is just another painful reminder of how much he's hurt you.

"No, sweetheart. Just wanted to grab a shirt for you to sleep in." He gives you a soft smile, quenching the ache of your heart.

Once he sits you up and slips the large shirt over your frame, he slips back into his spot next to you under the duvet. Your legs immediately tangle with his, head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his torso.

"Never gonna let you go again, honey." He tells you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Love you, James." You mumble in a half-asleep response into his chest, the words reverberating into his skin.

Bucky hopes you don't feel his heart racing, but replies with the same words that you hear before slipping into a deep slumber. And the last thing you hear before you slip under are the sweetest words to ever be spoken.

"I love you more, Y/N."

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader one shot #im so sorry this took so long #thank you for reading

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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