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kuroos-babie · 3 years

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falling in love with a single mom hcs

INCLUDES: nishinoya, tsukishima, yaku

you spent a good part of your childhood with nishinoya, chasing away the dogs that had a penchant of scaring your best friend shitless, climbing trees and playing treasure hunt

it was funny, to say the least, seeing how he grew from such a scaredy-cat to the energetic and confident noya everyone knows

throughout highschool you watched him chase girl after girl and he watched you turn down guy after guy

the dynamic you two had was that of a feral gremlin child and its chill owner holding the leash and everyone, including you two, thought you would always be together

everyday was fun with nishinoya's energy hanging around you, no doubt

but when he asked you to travel the world with him right after graduation, he was met with a hesitant refusal

"i'm planning to go to college, yuu"

"it'll be fun, y/n! like going on an adventure!!"

"visit me once in a while"

his heart clenched at the way you smiled at him with teary eyes, "i can't change your mind can i?"

with a soft shake of your head, he sighed

he leaves in three days

the first few months of him being away were filled with calls and pictures of his trips, smile seemingly wider and brighter than before and a part of you regretted not coming with him

but college starts in a week, and with that came missed calls and ignored messages

at some point, neither of you just remembered to hit the other up, caught up with the stresses of your own life and before either of you knew it, 5 years have passed

he came to visit home for the first time in years, no longer the boyish noya you knew but he still had that warm aura around him

you were the first thought to come to mind the moment he step foot in town, his whole body buzzing with excitement at the mere thought of seeing you again

so of course he went straight to your house, feet taking step after memorized step and hands clutching bags of things he got from his travels

"Y/N!!!!!", he calls out as he enters your house which was answered with a harsh shushing

turning a corner he saw you in the living room, lovely as ever-- he thought, and with a baby sleeping soundly in your arms, "the baby's sleeping, yuu"

"whose...?"

you laughed at the cracking in his voice, "mine, who else's?"

man, he looked like he was about to cry

he quietly approached you, careful as to not wake the baby

"for you", he mumbled while handing you the bag of snacks and stuff

the room was filled with silence after you hummed a short thanks

he was looking at the child's face, it looked like you, he thinks

he asked when you got married, "you didn't tell me, didn't even invite your best friend to your wedding", he whined

"i didn't, i'm not married"

his eyes were wide as they looked at you

you told him about getting pregnant shortly after college graduation and getting ditched

he thought of himself selfish as he heaved a sigh of relief

"it's fine though, my parents are helping me a lot", he notes how you looked at your baby with such fond eyes and his heart swelled, he felt like crying

you chuckled at the look on his face, "hey don't look so sorry for me, can't be happier to have her"

"what's her name?"

you looked at your daughter's face and pet at her cheek with a finger, "yui"

nishinoya couldn't hold it in anymore and so he let himself cry and pulled you close

and for the nth time since the day of your college graduation he asked you again, "come with me, y/n, let's travel the world" but you have a child "i'll stay with you here until she's old enough", he said while kissing the tears that slipped down your cheeks

"then we can all go travel the world together"

he liked working at the museum, he really does

at least that's what he tries to tell himself as he led the group of preschoolers through the sendai museum

they were cute, yeah, but also very chatty

especially this one little boy with the frog hat

"what's this called?"

"it's a fossilized remain of--"

"how about this one?"

"it's--", and before he could answer, the child was already running to the other side of the exhibit

he just sighs

the tour ended and he was getting ready for his lunch break, proceeding to the cafe by the entrance as he always does

his eyes almost caught the flurry of green that passed beside him but he chose to ignore it

but of course it wasn't long after he sat down with his order when he heard a familiar bubbly voice

"mama that's the dinosaur guy!", he heard the little boy whisper loudly, "he's so tall, like a brachiosaurus!"

he couldn't supress the chuckle at the child's remark and he turned in his seat, "so you were listening, i thought you were just bouncing all around the place"

"oh sorry, did he give you a hard time?"

your voice drew his attention and he smiled at the sight of your worried face, something that surprised even him, "not really, no"

he invited you two to sit and eat with him and he listened to your son ramble all about dinosaurs and prehistoric animals

"a smart one, i like him"

your son really liked him too and asked you to take him to the museum again and see tsukishima

and so it became a habit for you to visit the museum every friday with the little boy, waiting for the tall blonde to get off work so you three could grab something to eat

and every time he sees you in the little cafe by the entrancne with your son, tsukishima couldn't help but smile a little and pat at his chest to calm the subtle fluttering as he push the door open

it was a weird feeling he never knew would come so naturally at the mere sight of you two

he bought your son picture books and and figurines and copies of the "walking with dinosaurs" documentary

"we should watch it this weekend..." his eyebrows shot up for a moment at your meek suggestion

of course the little boy was elated, excited to have him over at your house "yes! let's go now! i wanna watch it with tsukki now!!!"

tsukishima returned his gaze on you, "if it's not too much trouble then i'd love to go now"

and so the rest of the friday night was spent on your couch with all the lights turned off and a narration of al the allosaurus' life

you looked over at the other side of the couch to see your son laying on tsukishima, eyes fluttering shut with the man passed out and lightly snoring

he must've been tired

you draped a blanket over the two of them and waited for sleep to visit you too and it soon did

morning came and you woke up to the smell of coffee

"i borrowed your coffee maker, i hope you don't mind", his voice was still low, trying not to wake the little boy

"yeah, sorry i didn't wake you up last night... you looked tired"

he chuckled as you walked over to the kitchen to take out two mugs and prepared some toast, "i don't mind, it was the best sleep i've gotten in a while. i hope it wasn't too much of a bother for you though"

you leaned on the kitchen counter as you took in his appearance; hair ruffled and eyes puffy with sleep, "i don't mind it one bit"

he huffed a laugh and looked over to the sofa where your son still laid

"he likes you a lot"

"so it seems, i hope you do too", his face was smug but you didn't miss the red that tinted his cheeks when you told him "of course i do, in fact i was thinking maybe we should do this more often"

his smirk grew, "just say you want to wake up everyday to the sight of me and leave it at that"

you rolled your eyes at his comment but smiled nonetheless, "oh shut up"

he had just come back from the nekoma volleyball team reunion, head lightly buzzing from the few bottles of alcohol kuroo forced down his throat

making his way through the carpeted hotel hall, he could barely make out the sound of little feet hurriedly padding on the floor and quiet sniffles

taking out the keycard to his room with the blissful thoughts of finally sinking into the soft mattress was interrupted by a soft bump on his thigh, a muffled thud and a small "ow..."

it took a few moments before the sight of the little boy on the hotel floor registered properly in his brain

it was well past 2 am... why the hell is there a child running around the halls

"uh... hi?"

big bright eyes looked up at him and he can't help but sigh at the sniffles increasingly growing louder

"where's your mama, little guy?", yaku crouched to the little boy's level, careful to keep his balance as the booze and exhaustion was catching up to him

however, at the mention of his mother, the little boy's eye filled up with more tears and was ready to burst anytime, "mama..."

"oh no no no no"

yaku's too tired for this

so with a sigh and a groan, he took the boy in his arms and entered his room

"let's look for her in the morning, okay? i think i still have some cookies in my room, would like some?"

the little boy nods his head, earning a relieved sigh from yaku

the rest of the night was spent with cartoons playing on the large hotel room tv, yaku leaning against the headboard with the little boy snoozing away while being tucked in his arm, cookie on his hand and crumbs all around

morning came and panic surged through your body the moment you realized your 3 year-old son was nowhere inside your hotel room

your hurried to the security desk to report and hopefully make an announcement, head reeling and aching with the sudden rush of adrenaline first thing in the morning

with your head in your hands, you let out a groan while trying not to cry at all the possibilites flashing through your mind

your wallowing was cut short with an "excuse me, i found this child last night"

turning your head back to the security desk, you see a man in his pajamas and slippers, hair ruffled from sleep and a sleepy little boy laying on his shoulder

"oh my god"

the whole conlict ended when you came up to them and introduced yourself, the little boy quickly recognizing your voice and whipped his head over to you, "mama!"

your son reached out for you and yaku couldn't help but notice how pretty your glossy eyes were despite how disheveled you looked

"mama, yakkun gave me cookies and we watched cartoons aaaaall night!"

yaku's eyes widened at the little boy's words and let out a nervous chuckle, "you make me sound so suspicious"

he turned to you and explained how your son bumped into him at 2 am and he was just too tired to bring him down to the security desk

"my tired tipsy brain thought it was a better idea to just let him sleep in my room and look for mama in the morning", he ended with the tips of his ears tinged red

you laughed at his nervousness, "well we can talk more about it over breakfast, what do you say yakkun? my treat"

with the way you were smiling at him, how could he even refuse?

the rest of the morning was spent with coffee and waffles, juice and fruits and chatter

he learned you and your son were in town for a few days, "i wanted to go see the fishies in the aquarium!", the little boy quips

with the new volleyball season just around the corner, yaku knew he'd have practices but he offered to tour you two around tokyo

he wanted to see you two again

briefly taking care of the toddler last night and having breakfast with you, he realized, were very much a welcomed change of pace in his hectic pro volleyball life

"are you my dad? mama told me daddy was working in tokyo" he remembered your son quietly mumbling last night, "i haven't seen him though, not ever"

the rest of your stay in tokyo was spent hanging out with yaku, your son growing more and more attached to him and slept over at his room every night

as promised, he took you and your son on a tokyo tour and even brought you to practice, introducing you to the national team and teaching your child receives

of course your trip eventually reached its end, promises of meeting again drowned in the little boy's tears as he tried to reach out to yaku

"we'll meet again, little guy", he says while ruffling the boy's hair, "i'll even go visit you and we'll play lots, okay?

of course he made a point of contacting you frequently, often video chatting during meal times and bedtime and a few more hours after, relishing in the time he could spend talking alone with you

"i can't wait to see you two again", he always says right after "good night"

taglist: @churochuu @bakarinnie @faithieeee @strawberriimilkshake @paulazockt @pattys-got-cakes @hidden-otaku-stuff @haikyuubabie @sachirou-senpai @your-local-abyss @stcrryskies @toosaltyforacookie @mrs-kuroojinguji @shawkneecaps @miyastrology @galacticstxrdust @wakaushi @boosyboo9206 @sugawara-sweetheart @threeconsecutivefs @chichibia @diyosku @curiouslilbeast @cowbeboppy @tsukkaria @yyvveess @kirakirasaku

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ava-achlys · 3 years

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The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Ju Haknyeon - Teach Me [Requested]

Request: Reader is experienced/bad girl and Haknyeon is innocent and wants to learn about sex. They meet at bible study.

virgin! Haknyeon x mean girl! reader

Warnings: corruption kink, losing virginity, underage sex, unprotected sex, mild humiliation, slight dubcon

Thanks for the request love, I hope you enjoy!💕 Also goes without saying, don't manipulate/coerce someone into doing sexual things if they're not ready or comfortable yet okay? The bad girl reader trope was requested 😅

Haknyeon is willing to learn, and who would make a better teacher than his crush, you?

You blink blearily, barely registering the pastor's teachings, and subtly stifle a yawn. You look around the room to find some sort of distraction and a certain boy catches your eye. Haknyeon is furiously scribbling in his notes, listening intently to the pastor. You scoff slightly at how earnest he looks, catching his attention. He glances over to you, meeting your eye and flushes pink as he shoots you a shy smile, before going back to scribble in his notebook. How cute.

Finally, the pastor dismisses your class, and you're the first one out the door. A patter of footsteps sounds behind you and Haknyeon appears, slightly out of breath. "Hey!" he beams, still rather pink in his cheeks. You nod curtly at him and continue walking. "Mind if I walk you home?" he chirps, still ever so cheerful despite your disinterest. You give a non-committal shrug, and he takes that as a yes, falling into step with you, babbling about everything, from what happened during class, to what he's going to have for lunch. You're barely listening, but you're watching him. Everyone at Sunday school (and your high school friends) knew he had a massive crush on you since middle school, but he was never very subtle about it to begin with.

High cheekbones, golden skin, sparkly clear eyes and full pink lips. He wasn't really your type, far too naive and innocent, but you suppose he was rather cute. Your eyes travel downwards, and nearly bulge out of their sockets. The dorky boy you knew as a pre-teen was barely recognizable. Instead, he'd grown much taller, shoulders broad and fuck, thick thighs and perky ass flaunted in his tight blue jeans. His white button-up was clinging to his broad frame, his strong biceps peeking through the translucent sleeves. You feel your heart skip a beat as you take it all in, wondering when exactly he changed and why you hadn't noticed it sooner.

"We're here! I hope you have a great day, I'll see you tomorrow at school?" Haknyeon grins, and you snap out of your shameless staring. You finally decide to humor him, and give him one of your most dazzling smiles. You brush your hand against his arm, and Haknyeon shivers, breath hitching as your fingertips graze against his skin, blushing an even deeper red. You thank him for walking you home, and shut the front door with a final wink, leaving Haknyeon speechless on your doorstep. You spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about how attractive he suddenly seems to you, hand slipping under your waistband, fingering yourself as your imagination went wild, picturing yourself underneath him and more. You hadn't gotten laid in a while, and now you've decided on your target; the cutie from Sunday School.

The next day at school you decide to mess with him a little. You linger at his desk to make small talk, his usual chatty and confident demeanor suddenly faltering now that you're giving him your full attention, keeping eye contact throughout the whole conversation. You continue this through the week, getting bolder each time. You'd plop into the seat next to him at lunch, you'd lean just a little too close to him when you talk, you'd walk home together, hands accidentally brushing against each other's. You enjoyed the way he gets all nervous and riled up just for you, sparking a new interest in the boy. All the boys you've been with before have been the popular jock type, typically dominant in bed. Haknyeon seemed like a nice change, the goofy but good-natured kid that everyone liked; meek, submissive and eager to please, just for you. You can't wait to play with him.

Friday afternoon finally rolls around and your grand plan is about to fall into place. Your friends shake their head wearily when you told them what you were going to do, but they're used to it by now. You catch him after school, which was easy considering he was waiting patiently for you, like a little puppy outside your classroom. You hook your arm around his and head home together like you have all week, and yet another round of pink dusts his cheeks when you touch him. You're almost home when you exclaim "Ah! I forgot to ask if I could borrow your notes for bible study! I wasn't paying attention at all last week, and I don't wanna get in trouble the next lesson," pouting cutely.

Haknyeon lights up, enthusiastically offering to let you copy his notes. "You can have mine! But they're at home, do you wanna come over?" He gushes, pausing when he realizes what he said. "O-or I could, uhh, send you the pictures of my notes tonight?" He stammers, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. You beam at him, like he's your hero, clutching his arm. "I'd love to come over, Haki! Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver," you croon, secretly enjoying the way Haknyeon turns crimson at the new nickname and skinship. You detour to his house and he leads you up to his bedroom, the empty house rather quiet except for the idle chat from the two of you.

He stands awkwardly as you enter his room, movie posters lining the walls and his books neatly arranged. "Would you like a soda? Cookies maybe? Make yourself at home, sit wherever you like! I'll go get my notebook," he rambles. You plop onto the edge of his bed, making yourself comfortable, patting the space next to you. "No need for that, Haki, thank you," you smile sweetly at him. He nods and starts looking around for his bible study notes, finally picking up the cute orange spiral notebook he always carries to bible study classes. He turns around, triumphantly holding the book, and promptly drops it when he sees what you're doing.

"W-what are you doing?" He whispers, his voice failing him as he gawks at you unbuttoning your blouse, exposing your lacy black bra. "Nothing, sweetie, why don't you come over here. Leave the book," you smile at him, beckoning him over with a crooked finger. Haknyeon walks over to you in a trance, his eyes never leaving your chest. He sits next to you as you take your blouse off and chuck it on the floor, pushing your chest out for him to take a good long look. You're gorgeous and you know it, and Haknyeon definitely thinks so. He gulps audibly and seems to snap out of it for a second. "Are you warm? I-i'll go turn on the AC!" he tries to get up but you pull him back down and into a fiery kiss.

He lets out a surprised squeak that quickly turns into a moan, eyss fluttering shut as you move your lips passionately against his, tongue licking into his parted lips. His hands are balled into clammy fists, not knowing where to put them. Blood is thundering through his veins; he can't believe his first kiss is with someone he'd been in love with for so long. His eyes remain shut as you pull away, wiping the spit from your lips, appreciating the dreamy look on his face. If he gets this much pleasure from a mere kiss, then you can't wait to see what happens later.

You caress his thighs with your hand, and he opens his eyes. Your fingertips dance across the muscles in his leg, hovering dangerously close to the tent in his pants. Haknyeon gasps, understanding what you're about to do, clutching your hand before it could wander any further. "N-no, we shouldn't be doing this..." he trails off in a terrified whisper. You turn cold immediately, feigning disappointment, and Haknyeon feels stabs of guilt when he shouldn't. "You don't like me anymore, Haki?" you pout, trying your best to sound hurt. His eyes turn round as saucers and he holds your hands close to his heart, his heartbeat thrumming beneath your touch. "No no! I still really like you, it's just... we're not supposed to do this until we get married right?" The sincerity in his voice and actions almost makes you give up the act and leave the boy alone. Almost.

You carress his cheek and give him your best puppy eyes. "But we're going to get married one day, so it shouldn't matter anyway, right?" you bat your eyelashes at him, watching his eyes light up at the mention of marriage. You almost scoff at his naivety but you have to keep up the act. His sweet innocence is making you wetter by the minute and you'll be damned if you screw up the opportunity to play with your new toy. "Please, Haki? I really like you..." your trembling lips and puppy eyes have him crumbling, his resolve and devotion to his Lord ebbing away in the face of temptation that is you, the girl of his dreams.

Haknyeon gulps and after a painstakingly long pause, he nods slowly. "Okay... but, do you know how?" Puzzled, you tilt your head. "How..?"

"I've never done this before," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. "Silly boy, I'll teach you everything you want to know." He gasps when you dig the heel of your palm into his bulge. "Aah, it feels weird. Good, but weird." he whispers, shutting his eyes. "Never touched yourself before, baby?"

"N-no..."

"Really? Never jerked off thinking about me at night?" you tease, now slowly rubbing his growing bulge through his pants, causing him to tremble. He shakes his head shyly, soft moans falling from his lips. You unzip his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring free and your mouth waters at the sight. Thick, veiny, decently long and twitching with precum. "Fuck, baby look at you. Such a pretty cock. Am I the first girl to see it?" you trail a finger up his shaft and he bucks his hips, already too sensitive. He nods furiously and you giggle, finally grasping the base of his cock. "What an honor."

You slowly drag your fist up and down his shaft, and he lets out a lewd moan, throwing his head back. You kiss his neck and decide to grab his hand, making him close it into a fist around his length. You wrap your hand around his and guide it up and down just as you've been doing. "Open your eyes and watch, Haki. This is how you jack off, yknow, when I'm not there to help you," you smirk, twisting your wrist every so often. His bottom lip quivers as he jerks himself, slowly gaining confidence to take over and stroke himself faster, moaning loudly as you switch to playing with his balls instead, carressing and massaging them.

Haknyeon cums unexpectedly, some of it spilling onto his shirt, all over his hands and some on yours too. You dip your fingers in his cum and suck on them, making sure he's watching the way your tongue laps eagerly at the sticky fluid. He's panting so harshly he might pass out, so you hold him close, his face resting on the plushness of your breasts as you stroke his hair. A few moments pass and his heart rate steadies, and he plants a grateful kiss on your lips, before shyly rubbing his neck, an awkward question on his tongue. You sense it, and you convince him to ask. "So how do girls... masturbate then?" He mumbles. You laugh sofrly at his question, spreading your legs wide so he can see how wet your panties have gotten.

You take your panties and skirt off and start playing with yourself, middle finger toying with your clit before dipping into your folds. "I always pretend it's your cock inside me instead of my fingers, Haki, but I have to make do with what I've got." you drawl. You can't miss the way Haknyeon's eyes follow the movements of your fingers, rubbing yourself desperately pinching and flicking your swollen clit, moaning shamelessly just to rile him up. Indeed, he's hard again, cock standing proud against his soft tummy. "I'm really close baby, but I don't wanna cum without you," you whine. He licks his lips, his voice hoarse with excitement. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me."

He wastes no time scrambling over to you, pressing his tip into your folds. You gasp, nails scratching at his arms at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck, fuck, wait baby you c-can't stick it all in at once- aaAHH!" you squirm as you feel every inch of his thick cock stretching you out, thrashing beneath him in a mix of pleasure and pain. Haknyeon hovers above you panting, gripping your hips as he slowly bottoms out, your walls clenching deliciously around him. You can feel your skin start to bruise with how hard he's pressing into your flesh, but you like it. "Mmmhh, you're so big, baby, stretching out my cunt like that. Gonna fuck me good? I'll teach you how, baby, don't worry," you smirk once you've adjusted to his size. He starts thrusting shallowly, and even that is toe-curling pleasure, the drag of his cock against your walls like ecstasy. He picks up speed with your encouragement, neither of you going to last long. He fucks you harder and faster, the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass like music to your ears.

"F-fuck you're already so good at this, a natural, huh, baby? You learn s-so quickly, fucking me so good like the little - ah - fucktoy you are. How does my p-pussy feel after dreaming about it for so long?" your words stilted by the force of his thrusts. He sobs, actually grateful that he gets to have a taste of your pussy after loving you from afar for so long. "So good, you feel amazing, ahhh, thank you my love," he mewls as he pummels into you. "Make me cum first, Haki," you command. He nods shakily, biting his lip with the effort of staving off his orgasm that it's starting to bleed. You cum all over his cock screaming, almost forcing it out with how hard your pussy tightens. He whines, pulling out and roughly jerking himself off, shooting spurts of cum on your tummy, emptying his balls with a loud groan.

He collapses onto you, exhausted but grateful. Your head is spinning from (surprisingly) the best orgasm you've ever had, and your legs feel like jelly. At least you're looking forward to the pretty finger-shaped marks on your legs and hips to remind you of the fun you had today. Haknyeon is almost falling asleep on top of you so you push him away before he suffocates you. He grins dreamily at you, his eyes glassed over and looking thoroughly fucked out, euphoric that he lost his precious virginity to his first love. He looks so sweet and grateful that you almost feel bad for saying everything you had said to get him tl fuck you. Again, almost. You press another soft kiss to his lips and watch as his eyes flutter shut, a dopey smile on his lips as he falls asleep. You quickly clean up and get dressed, snatching up his orange notebook and sneaking out before his family got home, wincing at the soreness in your lower region.

Sunday comes around and you return Haknyeon his bible study notes with a wink, and he smiles brightly at you, completely forgiving you for leaving him to wake up alone, sweaty and covered in cum two days ago. He walks you home again after class, and again the next day after school, and the next day and the next. As much as you don't see a real future with Haknyeon, you decide to roll with it and keep him happy, as long as it promised you earth-shattering orgasms in the form of after school 'study sessions' or bathroom quickies during lunch.

Haknyeon knows. He knows you never truly liked him the way he loves you. He knows you're just using him for a good time, but he thinks, no, he hopes, that if he lets you do whatever you want with him, that maybe, just maybe, you'll start to like him too.

A/N: I think I got too carried away with this one too, sorry 😅 poor bb Haki ❤

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #ju haknyeon #haknyeon smut

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erimeows · 3 years

Note

(AM Anon here) Not an official request or anything, though feel free to run with it if you want, I just think it’s funny:

Optimus upon finding out: You’re seeing MEGATRON??? He’s the ENEMY!

Minibot: I- How- That’s- Ok, but you’re the one giving free nighttime shows with STARSCREAM! So really, I’m just following your example as the leader!

Running with it because this is really funny! Love that this has become a whole ass story of its own lol, definitely my favorite headcanons/headcanon set that I’ve done. For anyone who hasn’t read it, here’s all the parts; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Headcanons below the cut; enjoy!

It’s been established in previous installments of this, but essentially, half of the Autobots are giant hypocrites- AKA everyone on your team except for Bulkhead, who’s single and wants to remain that way, and Ratchet, who’s been missing Arcee for light years. Prowl has something going on with Lockdown, unbeknownst to the rest of you, because unlike you and the others, he’s actually good at keeping his personal life a secret and doesn’t do dumb shit like interface in mid air or take his secret lover out to a public park in the same city where the rest of Team Prime is residing. Bumblebee has his thing with Blitz, Blurr with Shockwave, and Optimus with Starscream.

Anywho.

“Fraternizing with the other faction is bad!” the rest say to you as they hold hands with their hot Decepticon lover.

The main, uh, proprietor of this is Optimus Prime. He’s given Bumblebee plenty of lectures about merely flirting with Blitzwing during battles whilst literally turning around and doing the same thing with Starscream, though no one knows about that except for you and Megatron because of what the two of you saw that night you tried to go on a date in the mech’s vehicle mode and ran into Starscream and Optimus kissing each other’s lip plates off midair, neither of them seeming to notice you.

You also notice that the two coincidentally always end up fighting each other when you run into the Decepticons, and Starscream seems to be particularly chatty when Optimus is around, with Optimus always responding. They’re both always smirking and blushing and winking at each other and it’s painful to watch because you can’t say anything without also exposing yourself and why/how you’d seen them that night, but like... You KNOW. And it pisses you off. SO BAD.

TBH Optimus has this complex where he thinks everyone on his team aside from Ratchet and Prowl is weaker/more naive than him and he needs to protect them in a sense, so it’s understandable that he thinks he’s immune to any consequences that could come from fucking with Starscream, and that he thinks the Decepticons would be taking advantage of his teammates in any sort of relationship. Like, he has good intentions and is really just trying to protect y’all and you know that, but it’s still super frustrating that he’s being a bitch about it.

At this point, Ratchet knows about your relationship but hasn’t said anything, the rest know that you at least have a crush on Megatron because of how obvious you are, and Optimus just... Begrudgingly puts up with it and tries to ignore it. Overprotective dad, but he’s also scared of going too hard with his “don’t date a Decepticon” spiel and pushing you in the opposite direction that he wants you to go.

You vent to Megatron about the issue a lot, but it doesn’t do much because Megatron’s usual response is something like “he’s just a bitch, don’t listen to him” which doesn’t help because Optimus is your leader and your friend and you can’t just burn that bridge with him like Megatron could. You explain that to your lover and he’s sympathetic about it, but still rolls his optics any time you mention Optimus going on one of his tangents about the matter.

It all boils over when you and Megatron are on a date. You’re just at the park, enjoying yourself on a picnic blanket with some energon in the most secluded area you could find, only to hear-

“(y/n)? What are you doing here!?” followed by a scratchy sounding “Shut up, you dolt, Megatron’s right there! You just gave us away!”

Both you and Megatron turn around to see that Starscream and Optimus have emerged from the trees, servo in servo... They must’ve been on a walk together. All four of you are red cheeks and wide optics, caught, and of course, Optimus immediately starts lecturing you.

“You’re seeing Megatron? He’s the enemy! I knew you had a crush, and you can’t help that, but this is ridiculous!”

You can’t even bring yourself to say anything, but Megatron does it for you, simply sitting there and stammering over himself for a moment before finding the right words.

“I- How- That’s...” Megatron trails off, raising a finger (imagine; “I don’t care that you broke your elbow!” guy pose) before allowing his optical ridge to furrow. “You’re the one giving free airshows with Starscream in the middle of the night!”

Optimus loses all color in his face. Starscream bursts out laughing.

As you can imagine, this ends in Megatron and Optimus beating the shit out of each other and you and Starscream having to stop the fight after sitting there and looking at each other awkwardly for a few moments.

You drag Optimus home as Starscream does the same with Megatron, and you do have an actual, serious, open discussion about it.

“Listen... I hate to say this, but Megatron was right, and I’m sorry. It’s not fair that I get to do what I want in my personal life and you don’t get to do what you want in yours. As long as it doesn’t interfere in our work... You can do what you want. I can tell that, as terrible as he is, he really does love you- I saw it in how he stood up for you back there.”

All you can do is thank him and agree that if he doesn’t talk about your relationship with Megatron, you won’t talk about his with Starscream. You take him back to base and help Ratchet fix him up, then com Megatron to talk about everything that happened and thank him for taking up for you.

“I’m always here whenever you need me, darling. There’s no need to thank me. I’m just glad the issue was resolved.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

111 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years

Text

Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer’s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!” Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

#stardew valley x reader #stardew valley oneshots #sv leah #stardew valley leah #leah x reader #sv leah x reader #stardew valley leah x reader #stardew valley

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from-seas-to-skies · 4 years

Text

Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎

uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!

warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie

words: 4,802

“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.

Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.

When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.

And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.

“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.

“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”

“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.

As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…

“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”

After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.

“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”

Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.

In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.

“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”

You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”

Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”

“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”

Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”

And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.

Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.

“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”

Or maybe not.

“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”

“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”

“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.

You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.

“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”

Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.

“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”

To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?

Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”

Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…

After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.

Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.

“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.

Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”

Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”

This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.

“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”

All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”

At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”

“Keigo.”

He looks back up at you. “What?”

“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”

Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”

“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”

You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.

Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”

His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”

Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”

Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.

Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.

“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”

“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”

“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”

Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”

Heh. Yeah…

If only he knew.

Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.

Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.

It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?

Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.

“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”

“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”

“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”

“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”

“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”

“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”

At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-

“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.

With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.

“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wait, what?

“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.

“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”

“Who said it was problem?”

Keigo: 1 / you: 0

Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!

“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”

“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”

“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”

“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”

Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“

Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”

You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”

You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.

“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”

Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.

“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”

Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”

“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”

“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”

“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.

“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”

“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”

“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”

A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.

“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”

“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”

“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.

“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”

“Keigo-“ You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.

“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Keigo-“

Smack.

“KEIGO!”

The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.

Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”

Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.

“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”

You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”

“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”

“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”

Wait, seriously?

“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”

Your heart thumps against your chest.

Oh, fuck.

#mha #my hero academia #bnha boku no hero academia #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #mha smut #bnha smut #empress writes

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW.

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed.

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it.

Thank you all!

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting.

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet.

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest.

“I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug.

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles.

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!”

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place.

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music.

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.”

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!”

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze.

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club.

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.”

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?”

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,”

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?”

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence.

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams.

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!”

“Am I that transparent?”

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!”

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat.

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful.

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle.

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether.

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh!

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures.

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily.

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead.

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme.

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray.

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch.

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat.

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life!

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt.

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on.

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise.

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly.

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply.

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together.

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it!

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have.

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door.

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me.

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth.

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly.

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?”

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim!

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs.

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own.

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up.

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants.

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak.

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter!

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door.

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates.

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve.

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor.

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it.

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress.

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle.

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again.

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine.

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine.

He moans.

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans.

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob.

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him.

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet.

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!”

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head.

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep.

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me.

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more…

When was the last time I had sex?

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,”

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive!

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling.

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off.

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust.

I squeak; he grunts..

Peeta holds me by the waist, “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts.

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe.

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body.

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still.

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath.

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs.

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean.

“Yeah,”

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully.

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today?

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.”

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?”

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—”

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely.

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine.

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips.

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time.

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…”

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed.

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door.

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is.

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep.

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily.

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave.

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking.

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!”

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself.

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!”

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint.

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?”

Ugh!

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with?

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit!

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?!

Oh shit!

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours…

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims!

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading.

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!”

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place.

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.”

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps.

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night…

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead.

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta?

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?”

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor.

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings.

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening.

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me.

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met.

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember.

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly.

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl.

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally.

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket.

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master?

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain.

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first.

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention.

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?”

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago.

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly.

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!”

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder.

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful.

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles.

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly.

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?”

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests.

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time.

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,”

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?”

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse.

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly.

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.”

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says.

“How old are you?”

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable.

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him.

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?”

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently.

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me.

“Please… stay with me…”

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly.

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me.

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow.

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?”

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really.

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk.

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole.

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.”

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together.

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally.

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?”

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically.

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes.

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?”

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?”

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit!

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all.

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle.

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out.

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

--------------------------------------

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely.

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #detective!harry #dci!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #writingsfromhome #fic #au #harry styles x reader #oop this took a while to get out #but i'm so excited for pt3 #:)

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hxwkslove · 3 years

Text

Escapade (Hawks x reader)

cw: mentions of nightmares

Restless

You were having a rough time sleeping, constantly moving around and changing positions in your shared bed. You struggled with nightmares, and the fear of them happening again strikes a feeling into your heart that causes your anxiety level to rise higher than normal.

Nighttime is scary, especially alone. It’s the time where all the shadows in the house morph into terrifying creatures.

Lucky for you, Keigo was able to gauge how you were feeling with ease. He felt you constantly moving around and assumed something was wrong.

“Are you feeling okay?” barely a whisper from his lips as he turned to hold your hands in his.

You were quiet for a little, still high off adrenaline that would not stop rushing through you.

“Yeah, just having a hard time sleeping, I’m terrified of nightmares happening again.” you laugh softly as you fidgeted with his hands.

There was a small silence while he was thinking.

“I have an idea,” he gently guided your face to look into your eyes.

His eyes remind you of honey, sweet and addicting once you get one glance. You’re addicted.

“I can call my sidekicks to take over tomorrow and we can go out. I don’t think you’re planning to go to sleep tonight, yeah?” he chuckled at you, low and baritone from lack of use.

He reminds you of space. Eyes so breathtaking that they could not possibly be of this world. Beautiful expressions, with such a relaxed smile you could drown in. A personality that is like the stars, warm, welcoming and so, so lovely. You could never get enough of him, so addicted like you could never get enough of. A feeling of wanting to know more about him, what his motives are, what he’s like with different emotions, but one thing is for certain. You love him with all your being and had so much of your heart to give to him.

You apologize for zoning out.

“That sounds great to me, what do you have in mind?” relief flooded your lungs, happy that you no longer have to have your mind plagued with thoughts of terrifying nightmares.

He puts his forehead on yours and smiles brighter than the sun.

You hope it never dims.

“We could go to the convenience store and get snacks and afterwards we could go to the park or the beach! Or I could take you and we could sit on the top of a tall building and look at the stars together!” he excitedly rambles as his hands fidget with yours and he looks deep into your eyes.

You smile.

“Let’s do it all! We have so much time Keigo!” you hasten to get out of the bed, nightmares temporarily forgotten with thoughts of spending time with your favorite person swirled in your mind.

“Well, someone’s excited!” He gets up after you and goes to get some clothes as well.

You guys stand next to each other at the beach and stare at the moonlight’s reflection in the water. Both of you were holding hands as you leaned into his warm body.

Keigo rants about his agency and rambles about how Tokoyami’s progress is improving.

You love listening to him talk about nothing, yet everything at the same time.

You smile and squeeze his hand as a confirmation that you’re listening to what he’s saying.

He pauses for a moment and looks at you.

“Sorry for being chatty, I’m just really proud of the kid. He’s doing so well.” he sheepishly smiled.

“Oh, no it’s okay babe, I love listening to you talk. I’m proud of him too. I bet you’re teaching him really well, I have faith in you.” you hold his face and lean in to give him a soft kiss, which caught him off guard.

“We should all go out together someday! I would love to meet him. He sounds so great.” you smile real big at the thought of Keigo animatedly teaching a stoic teenager.

“Yes, I would love that Dove! I kinda talk about you a lot and I think poor Tokoyami has been subjected to it all.” He huffs out a bit embarrassed.

“But it’s not my fault I love you so much! And you’re too cute for your own good. How am I supposed to keep quiet?” He whines as he juts out his bottom lip in a cute pout

You laugh loudly. What did you do to deserve this angel of a man, you’ll never know but will be eternally grateful for.

He joins you in your laughter, which is very contagious, and thinks about how Tokoyami would absolutely enjoy your company.

As your laughter settles a bit, you open the candy that you and Keigo grabbed from the convenience store and start munching on it.

You talk about your job to Keigo, the bakery you and your friend co-own is gaining business, which makes you excited to meet more customers.

(Maybe Keigo had something to do with that but you’ll never know.)

You love your job, it’s your passion, and you are so happy with how far you have come with life with a stable job.

You continue telling Keigo about how a customer ordered a few dozen pastries, and you had naively thought that they were going to eat it all themself, but then they clarified it was for their coworkers. Which made you very embarrassed but is a funny story to tell.

“Babe, I don’t even know why I thought they would eat them all!” You grab your stomach and try not to laugh out the candy in your mouth.

He laughs with you and doubles over, finding your assumption hilarious.

God, everything was perfect about him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Listening to his laugh was heavenly. It’s deep and soft that leaves a fuzzy feeling in the pit of your tummy and a flush to your face.

You stare at him in admiration and then a feeling of a rush of love going through your body, of pure adoration and caring.. So you do the most reasonable thing that came to mind.

You attack him.

Jumping on him and attacking his face and neck with kisses filled with the most love in your heart.

The kisses made blood rush to his head and his wings puffed up. He laughed some more and grabbed your waist to steady you and keep you close, hoping this bliss and stream of kisses would last forever.

As your kisses got softer and more gentle, you held his face and looked at him.

You would give him the world, the stars, anything he wanted, you would make sure he would get.

He hummed as you both got lost in each other’s eyes.

“I love you Dove, I hope I helped you feel a little better,” he murmured as he pressed a loving kiss to your lips.

“I love you so much, Keigo!” you say to his face and then turn to the stars above.

“I love Keigo so much! Do you hear that? I love love love love him!” You shout at the sky as loud as you can and it listens.

You look back down at the man below you and you smile with your heart swelled with feeling, nightmares long forgotten as you give him another loving kiss.

You pull away as you grab his hands and sit next to him, leaning into his warmth.

“We should go get more sweets! Let’s go to the top of a building, I want to know what it feels like being so high up! I bet you’re used to it though, huh love.” you turn to him and continue “I bet the view from up there is insane right?”

He hums, focused on your words and your body near him.

“It is something I’m familiar with, but I would love to experience it with you. The stars look amazing from a tall building. Sometimes if I had night patrol, I would just go fly up and look at the sky. It listens to you and it’s comforting even though it’s so vast.” he looked up and silently thanked the universe for listening and for giving you to him.

You nod eagerly in agreement.

“The sky is so cool! It protects the earth, and at night we can look at lights in the dark. It’s really reassuring.”

You stand up and grab his hand, guiding him to another convenience store to get more sweets.

Something you noticed while you were looking at the mini cakes is that Keigo constantly kept near you, with a hand on your lower back or around your waist. Maybe it was just an intuition to keep near to, to reassure himself and to reassure you.

No complaints, though. You smile to yourself as you think fondly of how he cares for you.

Your legs dangle off a tall building as you stare at the lights of the city. It’s freeing but terrifying at the same time.

You lean closer to your love and grab his waist to steady yourself.

He keeps his arm around your waist, firmly to ground you.

“Oh my god, how do you do this so often babe?” you cling to him and try to bury yourself in his shoulder.

He holds onto you tighter.

“We don’t have to stay here, we could go somewhere else if you want to.” concern glints in his eyes as he softens, looking at you staying as close to him as you can.

“No! I just was not expecting it to be this high up.” you eagerly say to him as you turn to the view.

He nodded in acknowledgement and squeezed your waist to confirm that he was listening.

The city was breathtaking at night. The lights everywhere, it seemed, were still on, never sleeping. The buildings look like tiny Lego blocks from your high perspective. Sometimes you never realized how in each lit up room there was a person, with their own life, their own choices that matter just as much as yours. This was a reminder that everyone is the same, with their own life, their own decisions to make, and with relationships of their own. Their own Keigo, someone that brought comfort and loved them.

“I love life.” you start, still staring at the lights.

“Life is so good, it blessed me with you, babe. I have so many good things in my life and I am so grateful. I have you, my friends, the bakery, and I hope that everyone that lives with each of those lights has things similar to this. I hope that life treats them as well as it treats me.”

You tear up a bit.

“Even though I get nightmares regularly, there’s no good in this world without a bit

of bad. But I’m so grateful for what I have. Thank you for being here for me, Keigo.”

You look at him as if he held the world and the stars in his hands and smiled.

“I love you so much, I could never imagine this world without you in it.”

You hear his voice, slow and careful.

“God damn it, I could never see myself without you.” he choked up a bit.

“You taught me how to love, how to see the light in the world. If you weren’t here, I don’t know what I would do with myself. Maybe tear up everything with my bare hands.”

He laughed dryly

“It hurts so much to see you wake up from night terrors Dove, I only wish I could rid you of them. They trouble you and it hurts to see you get sad and afraid of resting because of those.”

Grabbing your face, he turned to you and leaned in to look at your eyes.

“I will do anything to help you with it, name it and I will provide. I want to help.” a determined tone broke through his choked voice.

“You already do so much for me Love, I could never thank you enough for spending time with me at night and sleeping with me. That rids me of it most times and I could never ask for more. Maybe I should get some melatonin.” You say thoughtfully.

“Of course, anything to help. We should get some tomorrow.”

Perfect timing for a yawn to break out as you lean into him.

“That sounds like a plan babe, sounds real nice. Thank you.”

You fall asleep on him as the sun peaks through. Pushing away the dark with the warmth of the sun.

Reminds you of Keigo. Pushing all the nightmares and scary things away with his presence alone.

Fully dozed off, Keigo smiles at you and gently carries you back home into your bed. Happy that you were able to sleep. He tucked you into your bed, changed and went to join you. He held you close to him, close to his heart, where you would always stay, safely tucked away and joined you in slumber.

You sleepily arose to a warm arm around you and peaceful breathing, smiling and pushing his hair out of his face and giving a soft kiss to his forehead you cuddled back into him and went back to sleep.

You would never want to be anywhere else.

#hawks x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha fluff #keigo x y/n

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years

Text

I See You, I Know You- and I’m Not Going Anywhere

You're All I've Ever Wanted, All I Want to Know, part 2

Warnings: SMUT! THERE IS LOTS OF SMUT AHEAD!, oral (fem receiving), p in v sexy sex, shitty fiance of reader being shitty, slurs against the french (frog/froggy), angst, LOADS of feels, infidelity, gene mooning over reader to potentially OOC levels, tiny bit of innocence kink referenced, reader gets chatty when horny, untranslated french (bc it’s Gene’s POV so he wouldn’t think process and translate french in his head (let me know if you want me to add them)), unprotected sex (let’s just pretend there’s no risk, yes?), guilt, lots of potty words.

(My fancast for Peter Kelly is Pablo Schreiber but feel free to ignore it.)

Title(s) come from Duet by Penny and Sparrow and Only You by Matthew Perryman Jones

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It had been a relatively calm day in Schoonderlogt. The day was sunny- cold, but sunny- and everyone was taking advantage of the well-deserved break from the frontlines.

Gene was drinking some of the best coffee he’d had in months while watching a handful of Airborne and Army soldiers play some vaguely ruled interpretation of basketball, his eyes darting every so often towards the table a few yards away where you and the other nurses were casually sterilizing the linens and strips of fabric.

You looked beautiful- your hair loose and your smile radiant as you laughed and joked with your friends. It wasn’t often that all of the company’s nurses were at the same place at the same time, so when the stars aligned and you got to see each other it never failed to bring you joy that would last for days afterward.

Your eyes caught his, and Gene couldn’t help but smile when you shot him a wink.

The merriment didn’t last much longer for you.

While Gene had been lighting a cigarette, he was dimly aware of another Jeep-load of Army men arriving at the mouth of the courtyard, not really concerned with the new arrivals.

Until you screamed.

When Gene and the other Easy men whipped their heads over towards the sound, he saw that someone- some man- had wrapped their arms around you from behind and lifted you off of your feet, a broad smile on the man’s face as he spun you around bodily.

“Froggy!”

Gene hadn’t realized he’d already gotten up and begun rushing for you until he saw Liebgott sprinting past him with balled fists and a fixed jaw. His blood was cold in his veins, heart thrumming anxiously as he catches sight of your pale face when the man sets you down, quickly turning in the man’s embrace and staring up at the grinning intruder.

Everyone comes to a halt when the man grips your bottom and pulls you into him for a deep kiss.

“Hey, Y/N!” Liebgott shouts, Gene watching with angry confusion as you quickly pull out of the kiss but don’t continue to shove the man away. “This guy bothering you?”

With your cheeks blazing, you offer a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, eyes still wide and flickering between Easy and this stranger.

“No,” you manage to say before the man wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you back into him.

“You gonna introduce me, Froggy-girl?”

Gene doesn’t like the way this man is bodily handling you, but what he really doesn’t like is how you seem to be letting him.

You clear your throat before shyly meeting Gene’s eyes.

“Guys, this is Peter Kelly,” you quickly look away from Gene and look to Joe Liebgott. “My fiance.”

You might as well have yanked Gene’s feet from under him.

Peter was everything Gene wasn’t: loud and boisterous and gregarious and extroverted, his jovial attitude initially winning over most of the guys.

That approval dissipates the more Peter drinks that night.

For Gene, he’d hated the man instantly. Not only because he was already half in love with you- although that was certainly a contributing factor.

No, Pete lost any respect from Gene the moment he saw the clear hickies hiding just beneath the collar of the man’s shirt.

One time, when the two of you had been rolling bandages for restocking the soldier’s med-kits, you’d insinuated that Peter had a wandering eye. You hadn’t elaborated, but there had certainly been a tone of sad acceptance in your voice as you’d said it.

Judging by the way your eyes kept lingering on Peter’s throat, Gene knew that you knew exactly what had caused those marks.

It made Gene furious, but for your sake, he kept his seething to a minimum.

You seemed to shrink in on yourself, as if Peter’s presence made you wither from the inside. The more he spoke about you, it was clear to anyone listening that he didn’t respect you. Several times, Peter had referred to your nursing as ‘endearing’, ignoring your reminder that you weren’t doing this as a hobby with a look of faux apology and an admonishment for ‘upsetting your delicate frog-feelings’.

When Guarno had finally taken the bait and asked what all the frog references were about, you’d frowned and excused yourself with a grimace- a glower staining your face when Peter’s arm shoots out to pull you into his lap.

“Well, just look at her face- Doesn’t she look like the poutiest widdle frog?”

He said this like a praise, Gene’s blood boiling as he watches you glare at a spot on the ground. With a bit of the fire you normally showed, you detangle yourself from his hold and announce that you’re going to refill your canteen- ignoring his childish whine and yelping when he smacks your ass as you leave.

“Also,” Peter says like a secret while hungrily watching you walk away. “Her mama’s second husband was one of those Frenchie types- so sometimes she acts a little spoiled- and all of us used to tell her to stop bein’ so froggy.”

When Peter shoots a wink Gene’s way, Gene gives him a glare before getting up and going the opposite direction you- not wanting to make your life any more difficult than Peter was clearly making it right now.

A little bit later, after Peter and some of the other Army guys invite Easy to join them at their basecamp, Gene overhears you and Peter arguing behind one of the stone buildings.

“I’m basically your husband, how am I supposed to explain to the guys that my girl doesn’t even want me to spend the night with her?”

“Because I know what ‘spending the night’ entails, and that is certainly not happening—”

Gene hears Peter groan, the beer he’d had earlier making him act more immature than before.

“I’m not getting tested. Why can’t you just trust me—?”

“Because you’re not trustworthy!” your voice is shrill, disgust lurking below the surface. “You clearly have been with someone recently, and I refuse to risk my job- my life- because you want to get off.”

Peter scoffs at that, and Gene creeps closer to hear better.

“You’re a nurse, Y/N. it’s not like you’re a medic—”

“Fuck you.”

Gene retreats quickly upon hearing your footsteps, only stopping when he hears a smacking sound. Before he can rush back, he hears you snarl.

“Don’t think you can ever put your hands on me like that ever again- on anyone. Next time, I won’t go easy on you with a slap. Now go away.”

With everyone else gone to the Army’s basecamp, Gene joins you in your temporary quarters, where you’re scribbling inventory reports with an angry grip on your pen.

It’s tense- and Gene wonders if you’d somehow known that he’d overheard your spat with Peter earlier. Your shoulders are up by your shoulders, leg bouncing beneath the table as you sit on the seat’s edge.

Gene knows you’re upset, but selfishly he’s upset too and knows he won’t be able to leave you to fester without at least trying to talk to you.

With obvious frustration, you all but throw your finished report towards the pile of completed paperwork by your feet, clearing your throat a few times as you stare at the wall in front of you.

Suddenly you sigh, your head tilting upward as your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Just go ahead and say it, Eugene.”

Gene frowns, staring at the back of your head. “Say what, Y/N—?”

“Whatever you’re trying so hard not to say, I can feel you ruminating all the way from over here.”

He pauses, feeling as if he may be walking into a trap that could make things infinitely worse.

Screw it.

“You deserve better.”

You scoff sadly, a bitter sound that makes his chest ache in empathy.

“You sure about that?”

“‘Course I am. You deserve someone who doesn’t talk to you like you’re nuthin’. Someone who is kind and good and wants to make you happy—”

“What makes you think that he isn’t all of those things?”

“He’s a pig, Y/N….he is nuthin’ but mean and cruel and you’ve gotta see that—”

“How do you know that I didn’t used to be like him- just like him?”

Now he’s getting angry too, all of his rage from earlier coming back in full force without his permission.

“Stop bein’ contrary jus’ for the sake of it! Jesus, Y/N, you clearly don’t love him, why’re you still married if—?”

You slam down the pen you’ve been tapping aggressively, whirling around to turn the full force of your scowl upon him.

“What makes you think I haven’t tried to end it?!”

Carelessly nudging the chair out of your path, you storm across the room to stand before him and jab your index finger into the center of his chest.

“I hate to break it to you, Eugene, but some women don’t get to change their minds! Some of us could beg until we’re blue in the face and we’ll still be forced to tie ourselves to men who we hate, just because our parents want to reap the benefits of such arrangements!”

Your lip has begun to quiver, eyes shining with unshed tears as you look up at him.

“Some of us don’t get to be happy, don’t get to marry the people we love!”

Guilt makes his stomach feel sour, especially when you bury your face in his shirtfront and bite back a whimper of heartbreak- your breath hot through the layers of clothing as you choke back more cries.

“Hey,” Gene whispers, the anger he’d been feeling sizzling out like a drenched flame. “‘M sorry, Y/N- please don’t cry….”

You allow him to encourage your face away from his chest, taking your face in his hands and brushing the hair out of your face.

You look so defeated, so goddamn hopeless that it almost makes him want to cry, too.

Unable to bear the sight of you upset for one more moment, Gene interrupts you mid-sob to catch your lips in a reassuring kiss.

It’s rougher than he intended, his desperation to quell your sorrow causing him to pull you into him a bit too quickly and causing your noses to press together uncomfortably for a moment. To his surprise, you don’t make any move to pull away- your hands coming up to grip at the front of his shirt with an anxiousness he hadn’t seen from you in years.

It reminds him of the first time he touched you.

Your lips are slightly trembling as you lean into him to deepen the kiss, and when Gene’s other hand comes up to cup your face he can feel the stick of drying tears on his palm. Seeing how your fiance had possessively gripped your face in his hand earlier had Gene’s blood boiling earlier- the lack of reverence the man had for you painfully clear in the way he spoke to you, the way he seemed to grope at you as if your flesh solely existed for his pleasure.

As if Gene didn't have enough reasons to hate Peter Kelly, the son of a bitch didn’t even appreciate the gift Gene knew you to be.

You were better than any of them, and he was sure that if he were to ask anyone else in Easy they would say the same. And, if the tension between Peter and the rest of the men were anything to go by, the general consensus was that the man didn’t deserve you. How he’d gotten you in the first place was a marvel that Gene couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Right now, all he knew was you, you, you.

Your hands fisted in his hair offered the most comforting sting of passion, and Gene would be lying if he said that having you so fervent for him didn’t drive him to the brink of insanity. Heightened emotion was something the both of you seemed to have lost throughout this god-awful war, something you’d both had to relinquish in order to survive.

Any time you showed these sparks of life, Gene felt a warmth in his chest that envied the most golden sunshine.

It reminded him that you were alive and he was alive and there was still a chance for something good to happen after all of this.

All of his thoughts return to you, feeling guilty for reflecting in a moment that demanded- no, deserved all of his attention and gratitude. He could admire you privately after you fell asleep, in his arms.

Right now, he needed to remind you that you were something worthy of worship.

You whimper against his mouth when he slides his hands up the planes of your back beneath your sweater, breaking away from your lips momentarily to pull the sweater over your head and toss it to the floor.

“I need you,” you’re whispering, your hands coming to tear at the buttons of his jacket as if it is personally offending you. “I’m so sorry, but I do….Please, Gene! I fucking need you—!”

Gene is quick to shush you, quickly helping you finish divesting him of his jacket so he can swallow your apologies in another toe-curling kiss. Growing up, he’d been taught that marriage was a life-long commitment, that anyone who broke that promise was ungodly or impure.

Of course, he’d also naively believed that people only got married because they were deeply and wholly in love with one another. It wasn’t until he had met you in Toccoa that he’d realized that love sometimes had nothing to do with it, that those sort of things weren't necessarily as clean-cut as he’d been led to believe.

Taking your face in his hands again, he tilts your face up so he can kiss at the warm skin beneath your jaw, liking the way your moan vibrates in your throat as he walks you back to the table you’d been working at and presses your backside against it. The sound of your open-mouthed panting had him painfully hard already- it’s almost embarrassing how little you have to do to get him like this.

He hadn’t even realized one of your hands had been working at the fastening of his pants until you’ve begun to scratch your nails softly down the skin of his lower stomach, and when his hips jump in surprise he can feel your breath hitch in your throat with heady amusement. When you do it again, he can hear the smile in your exhale.

“Such a perfect cock,” you nearly coo, your touch light as your fingertips brush over the head of him. “Can’t believe how perfect you are….”

You get like this sometimes when you get turned on, Gene has come to learn.- all lust-drunk and babbly as your words switch from thoughtful to stream of consciousness. It’s endearing, so wildly endearing that Gene would go as far as to call this habit cute.

Cute was the only term you ever showed resistance to, even in jest. Your reaction to the word was so viscerally negative that it had even surprised him- the person who you had frequently insisted knew you the best.

After meeting your fiance and his degrading attempts at ‘praise’, Gene was now able to understand why.

Your hand was stroking him in earnest now, having used his precum to coat your hand so your movements were smooth and confident. Despite the fact that he’d managed to get your trousers undone and loose around your thighs, Gene hadn’t been able to actually do anything else other than clutch at your hips and gasp into your neck as you rhythmically ruined him.

Normally, this is as far as you two would get- one of you getting the other off with your hands (and sometimes mouths) before someone or something would interrupt the other’s attempt at reciprocation and you’d both have to dive back into your duties to the Company. It was deeply unsatisfying- particularly for Gene because he wasn’t afraid to admit that making you cum wasn’t one of his favorite things to do. Each and every time he didn’t get to return the favor made him feel terribly guilty- like he had somehow exploited your feelings for him.

It made him feel sick. It didn’t matter how many times you insisted that you didn't see it that way, he always was left feeling as if he’d been inexcusably selfish.

He hated it.

But tonight was different. For once, the two of you weren’t the only medics available for the dozens of men who seemed to have a near-constant stream of injuries and festering wounds. The Army was there with their fourteen medics and nurses and the majority of Easy company had gone to visit their camp in order to mooch some of their beer and US-funded entertainment.

No one would be interrupting his time with you tonight.

Not even your fiance, who was no doubt dishonoring his vows of fidelity right now.

It didn’t have to stop. He didn’t want it to stop.

“Wait, Minette,” Gene chokes out, reaching down to stop your sinfully-sweet touch before he lost himself in it. “Jus’ wait a second…..”

You make a sound of disappointment in your throat, and when he pulls back enough to look at you he can see a small pout on your lips- as if he’s deprived you of something. The sight makes him feel lightheaded, the implications almost enough to….

Focus, focus.

“You were so close,” your voice holds an undertone of frustration, your other hand attempting to sneak down and finish what the other had started. When he takes that wrist as well, your eyebrows furrow almost comically. “What are you doing, Eugene—?”

You cut yourself off when he suddenly drops to his knees, hands hooking in the waist of your pants and underwear as he does so and shucking them down to your ankles. Your eyes are wide now, cheeks flushed and eyebrows high in surprise.

Keeping his gaze on you, he leans forward enough to press a kiss to your freshly bared thigh. By the time he moves to give the other the same treatment, he can see that your eyes are becoming soft once more.

“I wanna take your boots off,” Gene says as evenly as he can, electricity crackling in his veins at the smell of you. “Can I do that, Y/N?”

At your hurried nod, Gene kisses a ‘good girl’ to your skin quickly before bowing his head to unlace your boots with shaking fingers. He’s thankful for the time it takes him to do so- it gives him the opportunity to get his thoughts together and regain some semblance of control over himself.

Maybe one day he could be impulsive when it came to you, when neither of you had the threat of death hanging over your heads like a heavy cloud.

But now, with each moment commonly understood as having the potential to be your last, Gene couldn’t afford to leave you as anything other than satisfied…..worshipped.

By the time he has your boots removed and one of your legs freed from your trousers, he wants nothing more than to make you come apart beneath him. Because of him.

Looking back up at you, he can see that you’ve unbuttoned your shirt and thrown it open so he can see your nipples harden beneath your once white t-shirt- the weather was far too cold to consider undressing to complete nudity. Your mouth is pink and swollen, shiny from your tongue having recently darted out to wet them.

For a moment, Gene is stuck- too awed by your beauty to risk moving and missing a moment of it. Your heated whisper of his name is the only thing that shakes him free, and he can’t help but lean into your touch when you card a hand through his hair again.

Bringing his rifle-roughened hands to your knees, he purposefully slides them up your thighs until he can rub his thumbs over your hip bones. When he presses on them lightly, you follow his touch and perch yourself on the edge of the table with a quiet curse. The action parts your lower lips slightly, a movement he is quick to chase with his mouth.

He wastes no time shouldering his way between your thighs, using his hands to guide them over his shoulders as he starts to lick gently at the seam of your sex.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your other hand coming down to scratch lightly at his scalp. “Fuck, Eugene….you don’t have to—ohh!”

Your unnecessary reassurance is lost in a sigh of arousal the moment his thumbs open you up more for him so he can circle the tip of his tongue around your clit before laving it more purposefully. You always tried to reassure him that using his mouth on you wasn’t necessary, clearly not accustomed to having a partner who enjoyed doing so.

Not that Gene was an expert, not by any means.

But, between having mapped out your sex with his fingers and the limited experience he’d had before the war paired with his- er, considerable knowledge of the human anatomy- he knew enough to take out most of the guesswork.

He hasn’t had many opportunities to go down on you- three on the boat ride to England, five times during your time in Alderbourne, twice since dropping into Normandy. You’d dropped to your knees for him far more than that, and now that he had more perspective on what your relationship with Peter had probably entailed Gene was determined to make up for each and every indulgence you’d offered him.

The tremor of your thighs tells him that you’re getting close, and he can tell by the way the muscles of your stomach clench beneath his greedy palm that you’re starting to have a hard time keeping yourself up as you watched him devour you. He hadn’t realized how vigorously he’d been attending to you, too lost in your taste and smell to hear the interspersing chant of his name being showered upon him as praise spilled from your lips once more.

With a groan, brings you to orgasm, refusing to cease his suckling despite the blooming ache in his jaw. It isn’t until your foot raises to press at his shoulder that he allows you to push him away, and he can tell that he’s exhausted you by the way you fall back and writhe while your release works itself through your bloodstream.

“Oh my God, Gene,” you keep repeating, chest jumping with adrenaline. “Why are you….how are you so good?”

He chuckles at that, his cheeks darkening at the praise. Gene watches as your eyes skate down his body to look at his cock, swallowing audibly before looking into his eyes once more. Before he can assure you that he understands if you don’t want to keep going, you carefully sit up and look up at him bashfully, biting the inside of your lower lip and bringing your hand to his cheek.

The look you’re giving him starts to make him nervous. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when you clear your throat and tell him.

“I...I don’t know if I’m good at it.”

Gene frowns, searching your face for clarification as to what you’re trying to say.

“What’re you mean, ma cherie? What’s got you so worried?”

Your shoulders nearly slump as you sigh, giving him a weak smile as you clear your throat once more.

“At sex, Gene. I’m worried—I don’t know how to make it good for you...”

With a shake of his head, he brings his crooked index finger under your chin to stop you from hanging your head in embarrassment. You look so lost right now it breaks his heart.

“Minette, you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

When you open your mouth to rebuke his statement he’s quick to kiss you, using his free hand to bring yours from his cheek to press against the middle of his chest. It takes you a moment, but you do kiss him back, inhaling sharply as he nips carefully at your bottom lip.

Pulling back, Gene traces his thumb over your lips and gives you a soft smile.

“Never worry about me, ‘cause there isn’t a damn thing you could do that wouldn’t make it ‘good for me’.”

You narrow your eyes at that. “I doubt that’s true—”

Gene snorts and shakes his head admonishingly. “Doubt all you want, darlin’. Don’t make any of what I said change one bit.”

You look at him for a bit, eyes softening again and your hand smoothing down his chest with a hum. He thinks you’re going to require further reassurance until he watches as you purposefully part your mouth enough for his thumb to slip between your lips. The sight of you watching him paired with the drag of your tongue along the pad of his finger goes straight to his cock, reminding him of just how hard he’s become.

When you release him with a gentle nip to his fingertip, Gene stares at you in disbelief.

“Jésus Christ, cherie,” he can’t help but murmur. “Vous ne jouez pas juste…”

You tilt your head slightly, clearly aware of what he’s said but seeming to understand the gist of it.

“Show me what you like,” you whisper, scooting your hips to the very edge of the table and brushing your lips against his. “I’ve wanted you for so long….”

Gene kisses you as he slips inside of you, your gasp of pleasure sweet on his tongue. Unprompted, you bring your legs up to find some purchase around his hips and squeak as you take all of him in at once.

Bon Dieu, tu te sens comme le paradis….

You are clutching at him, your hands dancing for the best place to grip him before settling on one arm hooking around his neck and your other hand bracing at his left bicep. It’s an awkward position- probably because neither of you had ever tried to fuck on a table before- so Gene tries to get past the near blinding pressure building in his loins and wraps one of his arms around your hips to slightly adjust the bend in your spine.

“Shit, I’m sorry—!” you being to apologize before he cuts you off.

“Non, non, non, non Minette….just let me try and—”

You both cry out as he suddenly ruts deep, your nails digging into his flesh through his shirts you gape up at him in surprise.

“Oh, oh!”

“‘S that okay?” he grits out, resisting every fiber in his body that is begging for him to piston his hips and just fuck you already. You nod quickly, rolling your hips experimentally and kissing him quickly when he keens before he can stop himself. Gene grits his teeth at the sweetness you’re showing him. You’re just so good. “I’ll stop if it’s—”

“More than okay….do that again- please don’t stop!”

There’s something so…. overwhelming about the way you’re looking at him, with your eyes wide and lips parted. The whimper that comes from the back of your throat at his next thrust combined with your bewildered expression makes you appear so beautifully innocent that Gene momentarily forgets how to breathe. Maybe innocent is the wrong word.

Honest. Yes, that was it.

It was your honesty that was overwhelming him, the lack of theater in your reactions to him and his touch so genuine and open that he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. Having you- the most glorious creature he’d ever met, would ever meet- gaze at him as if he’s hung the stars in the sky was just so bewitching and unexpected, particularly because of how highly he regarded you.

Your eyes have a glossy look to them, almost as if you were drunk. Rather than the babble he’d anticipated hearing from you, you’ve gone almost silent aside from the sighs and gasps of pleasure that accompany each piston of his hips into your tight velvet heat. Head lolled back, you watch him from under heavy lids while meeting his thrusts with careful pitches of your own, your eyelashes fluttering in response to his punched-out breath washing over your face.

If he didn’t know any better, Gene would say that you had undersold your experience on purpose. You had to know what you were doing to him.

How devastatingly close you were to unmanning him.

“Is it good, Ma Chatounette?” he can hear himself ask, his head already swimming with the initial signs of orgasm. “Am I making you feel good?”

You nod shallowly, mouth opening to reply but no sound coming out. The hand you’ve braced on his arm now has started to claw, and he can feel you tighten around him.

You’re close, too.

“Please,” you nearly weep, your hips starting to rut against him. “Please please please please—!”

“D'accord,”’ he nods, taking your words as permission to allow his body to chase that fire that’s been burning him alive for quite some time now. “Je te donnerai ce dont tu as besoin, chérie. Je vais le rendre meilleur….”

Gene moans as you allow him to put a hand on your shoulder and press you back so you’re laying back on the table, your back arching sinfully as you mewl for him. Your legs tighten around his waist, and he feels his jaw go slack at the sight of your rolling hips coming to meet him thrust for thrust. You’ve begun to chant his name again, the sheen of sweat on your skin making you look like some carnal divinity sent to him for the sole purpose of ruining him.

And who was he to deny an angel?

Your arms wrap around him as he hunches over to brace his elbows by your shoulders, pressing your hot cheek against his - nibbling at his earlobe as his rhythm becomes punishing.

“Ma ruine, mon ange, je ne veux jamais être sans toi—”

“Come for me- please, please, I’ve never felt so good—”

It’s the catch of his pelvis against your clit that snaps both of you into oblivion, Gene’s vision going white as he clutches at whatever parts of you he can get his hands on, choking on his own breath as the bite of your fingernails adds the perfect amount of pain to his release. He’s aware of you crying out in release, but it’s swirled into the sound of blood racing in his ears as your tightening walls milk him for all he’s worth.

As his vision returns to him, he laboriously removes his head from the curve of your shoulder to look at you, his heart freezing midbeat when he sees tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You’re shaking your head, hands finding his cheeks to bring his mouth to yours so you can kiss him syrupy-slow, the action throwing him for a loop.

“I’m happy,” you insist between kisses. “It was so good…. I-I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry—”

Gene calms instantly, kissing you back and sighing into your mouth.

He understood what you were trying to say, knew exactly what you were experiencing. It made him stupidly happy that he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by this….connection you two had.

He’d never had a lover who had reciprocated his feelings so fully. Then again, he’d never felt this with anyone else before, either.

“Don’t be sorry, Minette….I feel it, too.”

It takes the two of you a while, but you do eventually manage to move to the small mattress in the corner of the room, tangling yourselves together beneath the moderate warmth of the blankets and coats you’d scavenged earlier while avoiding Peter.

You must’ve thought he was asleep, because he has a feeling you wouldn’t have dared to say the words aloud.

“I love you,” you whispered against his shoulder in the darkness. “However terrible that makes me, I’m in love with you Eugene Roe.”

Gene is thankful for the pitch-black surrounding you. That way, he can allow himself to smile without fear of you seeing it.

Je suis amoureux de toi depuis des années, (Y/N). J'ai hâte de te le dire un jour.

But for now, this was enough.

~ ~ ~

(*hides under covers for the rest of the day* OK THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME THIS HAS BEEN MY FIC DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

Lil’ Drunk

기억나? Do you remember it?

Description: Alcohol is something you never touch, it's just not your cup of tea. But one night, you decide to throw caution to the wind because you were feeling guilty for being the only sober one whenever Woozi and his friends drink together. But after you drink a little too much, Woozi is called in to get you home safely. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff, BF!Woozi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"She's...." Woozi's voice trails off on the other end of the line.

"Drunk." (y/f/n) finishes, holding your phone up to her ear.

"How? She never drinks." He wonders incredulously but at the same time is scrambling to collect his things.

(y/f/n) shrugs, "Well, she did tonight. And she drank a lot."

"Is she gonna get sick on the way home?" Woozi wonders, slightly worried about how he's going to get you home.

"I don't think so. She's just very, mm, very emotional." (y/f/n) says glancing over as you have your head buried in your hands. Not tears yet, just massive amounts of guilt.

Woozi sighs more out of worry than anything. Worry because you really never drink. Partly because you're a lightweight and partly because you hate, absolutely despise, the way alcohol makes your body feel. Gets you all red and itchy and it's not a fun time for you.

"I'll be right over. Could you text me your address?" Woozi asks, slipping on his jacket.

"Yeah, no problem." (y/f/n) says and hangs up before texting Woozi her address. Then she places your phone back into your purse.

Your hands drop from your face then and you continue your previous rant, cheeks are still bright red as is the little amount of chest showing. And from the last bathroom trip, everyone knows your thighs are also cherry red.

"I just, I just feel so so so bad." You lull your head to the side. "Like I know it's not my fault for not enjoying alcohol or the taste or how it makes my body feel but I feel so bad when all his friends are drinking and I'm the only sober one."

"Who wants to play another game?" Another one of your friends asks, trying to break the odd tension you've created. But the question only springs another tangent from you.

"And games!" You throw your hands into the air, "When we play games and it involves drinking I try not play because half of the time Woozi has to drink for me! Why am I always the sober one?" You lean in close to the person next to you to emphasize your question.

"Because you have your reasons." She answers your question with a humored smile. She's clearly enjoying your drunken state as are the others along with a little worry cause they've never seen you drunk or drinking before.

"My reasons make me feel guilty." You pout like a child. "I'm starting to wonder if I should drink more and force myself to get better with it all."

"No, no, no." (y/f/n) quickly shakes her hands in front of her, "That's probably not a good idea. Remember the last time you tried that?"

"When did I ever do that?" You ask, blinking blankly at her.

"Before you finally gave up on alcohol the first time." She reminds you and the memory resurfaces like a bad nightmare.

You visibly shiver and suddenly have a craving for water. "Pass me the water bottle?" You reach out a hand and one of your friends places it in your hand. "I still feel guilty as hell though." You mention after taking a couple sips.

Before you could spiral back into the guilt ridden speech, Woozi knocks on the front door.

"Who's that?" You whip your head around as (y/f/n) goes to answer the door.

She opens the door and reveals Woozi to the room and to you. As soon as you see him, you press your lips together to keep from saying anything about your earlier rant.

"You ready to go?" Woozi asks you, walking closer with a warm smile on his face. If you were sober you would've noticed the tinge of worry in his eyes but you were drunk so that detail went way over your head.

Not wanting to break your newly found code of silence, you simply nod your head though questions are flying through you mind.

Why is he here?

Where am I ready to go?

Is he taking me?

Are we all going together?

(y/f/n) hands Woozi your purse as you stand and walk to his side. Then he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you out of (y/f/n)'s place. You stumble here and there but are pretty stable when walking which brings some relief to Woozi.

"Did you have fun?" He asks you while waving down a taxi.

Again, in your code of silence, you just nod while focusing on staying standing and not letting your butt meet the concrete sidewalk.

Within seconds, a taxi pulls up and Woozi ushers you into the back seat before joining you and telling the driver an address. You're not sure if it's your address or his. If it's his then you're going to be going to an apartment with twelve other guys who will definitely never let you live this down. But that thought hasn't hit you yet.

You let your head fall onto Woozi's shoulder during the car ride and he lazily intertwines your hands together.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asks you quietly and you just nod your head truthfully.

"How much did you drink?" He continues to question you but you only shrug, staying silent.

Woozi chuckles, "(y/f/n) said that you were being chatty and ranting about something. But now you're all quiet."

Again, you just give him a small shrug as an answer.

"Just tell me if you don't feel good, okay?" He asks, concern now seeping into his voice slightly but again, it goes right over your head.

You nod your head and feel your eyelids become heavy. Guess the adrenaline only lasts while your friends are there to keep fueling it.

By the time the taxi stops and Woozi pays, you're about ready to fall fast asleep.

"Just a bit longer, (y/n)." He says and tugs you out of the taxi before closing the door and wrapping his arm around you waist again.

"I really don't want the other guys to see me." You suddenly spit out and Woozi walk falters ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't bring you back to the dorm." He explains, "(y/f/n) lives closer to your place anyway."

You gasp, "You know (y/f/n)?" You ask, shocked in your drunken state.

"We've met a few times and she called me tonight to come and pick you up." He explains.

"Why would she call you?" You wonder, "I was fine. We were all fine."

Woozi sees the tiny opening in the conversation and dives straight for it, too curious to be stopped. "Well, she said you were getting emotional."

You place a hand over your chest, "I was? No, I wasn't. I was just explaining how I feel bad because my boyfriend and his friends like to drink but I always end up being the sober one. And then my one friend had to mention games and then it only reminded me how my boyfriend - his name's Woozi by the way - my boyfriend always has to drink for me if we play games and how terrible I feel about it because he has to drink twice as much." You inhale dramatically after rushing the last bit as your breath ran out with it.

Woozi stays silent and internalizes your words. In all honesty, your soberness never bothered him. He didn't mind drinking for you since he had a pretty good tolerance and drinking for you allowed him to get to an enjoyable buzz quicker than if he was drinking for just himself. And again because of his tolerance, he never minded that you were sober. He was always essentially sober when his friends drank so it was nice to have you around as another sober person. Plus he knew you detested the feeling you got when you drank so he respected that and never tried to get you to drink.

"Heyyyyyy." You point to your front door, "This is the same number as my place! Has your place always been the same number as mine?" You ask, turning towards him with wide curious eyes.

Quickly unlocking your front door, he chuckles, "No, this is your place." He says and opens the door before you go bounding inside.

"Woozi! Look!" You exclaim, gesturing to your couch, "It's my COUCH! I sat right here while you and all your friends drank that one time." You plop onto the couch and groan while squeezing your eyes shut, "And I was the only sober one that time too."

Closing the front door, all Woozi can do is shake his head and chuckle at your current state.

-the next morning-

Rolling out of bed, a low throbbing in your head makes you groan. Stumbling towards the kitchen, your mind replays hazy dream like memories of you going over to (y/f/n)'s place, deciding to throw in the towel and drink, and drink some more, then Woozi showed up and brought you home where you think you screamed something about your couch before talking about being sober.

"You're awake." Woozi states the obvious as he stands next to the coffee maker, "I was just about to come and wake you up."

You give him a half smile, the most you can muster with your headache raging, "My head is killing me, do I have any painkillers or something?"

Woozi chuckles and points to the dining table where a large glass of water sits next to a napkin with two painkillers. "Way ahead of you. And drink the whole glass. It'll help."

You nod and pop the pills into your mouth before washing them down with the entire glass of water.

"Did I really drink that much last night?" You wonder and head into the kitchen to refill the glass.

"I don't really know how much you drank." Woozi admits while pouring out his coffee, "But yeah, I would guess it was a lot."

Leaning back against the counter, you let your head fall forward in dismay.

"Do you remember it?" Woozi asks, copying your position opposite of you.

You nod slowly, "It's foggy but I remember pretty much all of it, yeah."

"You want to talk about it?" He offers a small smile.

"Don't you have to get to work?" You wonder, looking over at the clock in concern.

Woozi shrugs his shoulders, "Work can wait for a little. Plus I don't technically have to be in for a few hours."

You sigh and purse your lips, "Why was I talking about being sober?" You ask, still curious as to why the word 'sober' kept appearing in your memories.

"Well, you kind of get emotional when your drunk, apparently. And last night, you kept ranting about how bad you felt that you are always the only one who's sober when we get together with my friends." Woozi fills you in and your face drops in embarrassment.

"Oh fuck me." You groan and rub your hands over your face. "Oh, god, that's, oh god."

Woozi walks up to you and pulls your hands away from your face, "You know it doesn't bother me right?"

Looking at him, you ask, "Being an emotional drunk or being the only one who doesn't drink?"

A light smile touches his lips before he answers, "Both. But I'm mostly talking about you being sober while my friends and I drink."

"Really?" You question him, "Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not." Woozi says, gripping your hands a little tighter.

"Even when they make you drink for me when we play games?" You ask, scrunching your lips together.

"Even when they make me drink for you." He repeats your words with a light tone, "It doesn't bother me in the slightest. In fact, sometimes I enjoy those times."

"You- why?" You stutter, curious.

"Because of my tolerance, on a normal night I can barely get a buzz enough to tolerate the others but on game nights, when I drink for you, I reach that comfortable buzz faster." He explains, "And then Dokyeom, Hoshi, and Dino become ten times funnier."

He chuckles and you try to control a smile by lowering your head down but a little giggle comes out anyway.

"But I already talked to the guys." Woozi continues which brings your head up to meet his gaze. "I asked them to quit it with the 'if you're playing a drinking game, you need to be drinking alcohol' rule. They said fine so when we play, you can sip whatever drink you want to."

"Why?" You ask, feeling gratitude to Woozi but also some confusion as to why he would do that.

"Cause I was starting to sense that it wasn't sitting right with you that I was drinking for you." He tells you, "Yes, I picked up on that. I'm your boyfriend, I could read you after like six months of dating."

"Damn, I guess I gotta get better at hiding my thoughts then." You joke and Woozi rolls his eyes.

"Good luck." He offers encouragement with a touch of sarcasm and you stick your tongue out at him.

But Woozi quickly wipes the scowl away with a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thank you for talking to the guys. You really didn't have to." You tell him with a grateful smile.

"I kind of had to. They really were being pushy with the whole thing." He says, matter-of-factly. "Hey, can I ask why you drank yesterday in the first place?" He wonders, wrapping your arms around his waist before placing his around your waist.

You shrug, "I guess I was kind of tired of being the sober one so I just grabbed a drink and drank it."

"But you hate how alcohol makes you feel." He reasons.

"I do. But I just was feeling so guilty about possibly being a downer cause I don't drink that I guess, I just didn't care last night." You explain and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. "And I don't think I'll do it again. I really hated the feeling. And my body got so red, I swear it looked like I was sunburnt."

"Ah, more like you had just belly flopped into a pool." Woozi corrects your simile and you shoot a look up at him.

"What?" He counters your look, "Someone had to get you into your pajamas and you were in no state to do it yourself."

You bury your face into his neck as a blush blooms on your cheeks.

Woozi laughs and hugs you closer, "It's okay, you were an adorable drunk. And by the way," He shuffles the two over to where you can see the living room and he points to the couch while laughing, "That is indeed your couch."

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen woozi imagine #seventeen jihoon imagine #woozi imagine #jihoon imagine #woozi #lee jihoon imagine #lee jihoon #seventeen woozi #seventeen jihoon #writer-k-pop

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enjennie · 3 years

Text

Bottom’s Up

synopsis: the dreamies during a night of drinking somehow end up talking about their exes, revealing the different types of relationships and exes they have or had.

a/n: this has been long been in my drafts so Jisung was still a minor here, thus I didn’t give him any drinks lmao. Enjoy! btw, I’m still deciding if I should make Haechan’s backstory for this, or if the markHyuck one should do…

[10:37]

The boys have arrived, piling into Chenle’s condominium that was set up just to have their long awaited guys night. They planned this weeks prior, promising each other that after their finals they’d set aside time to drink away their thoughts and release any stress they have that built up.

By 10:50 bottles have been popped and cups have been poured, the boys sat in the balcony to feel the cool air of the city night.

“You guys really aren’t sharing?” Jisung watches as the older boys raise their glasses in celebration.

“You wait a few more months, sir,” Mark sets his glass down and pats the younger boy on the shoulder. Guy nights wouldn’t be complete without Jisung, even if he wasn’t allowed to drink yet. He never minded sitting in the living room, playing with Chenle’s console with Jaemin and then later on laughing at his older friends’ shenanigans once the alcohol hit them.

Renjun isn’t quite the drinker, but Haechan made him a bet and unfortunately, he lost. Being an art major wasn’t easy, he knew he had a few more things to finish before his semester ended but with that, Renjun drank to forget.

Besides his plates, he had nothing else to worry about. He’d been getting emails from companies waiting for him to graduate, a family happy to support him, but surprisingly, the boy lacked in the love department.

His previous relationships, only being flings and one night stands, none of them really ever stayed after the cuddles. Except… a particular someone.

On the opposite side of him sat Jeno, who was watching his friends in amusement. Now, Jeno has a high alcohol tolerance. Although he becomes chatty, and starts to excessively clean his surroundings, he takes care of his friends well. Usually he’s the one who tucks them into bed or prevents anything like drunk driving and some other stupid shit to happen.

Jeno the architectural major was the responsible friend in a night out. The single friend who starts playing the guitar to set the mood when 2am rolls in. And, the single friend with the broken heart, which hasn’t quite mended yet even after three years.

Haechan on the other hand, is a messy drunk but handles his alcohol well until the 2nd bottle. The boy has a lot going on in his mind, and was the first to initiate the plan to drink.

His phone rings, but Haechan dismisses it, tapping the red decline button and watching as the screen faded into black. Mark follows his eyes and hesitantly brings it up.

“Aren’t you going to talk to her?”

Haechan only shakes his head before taking another swig. Everyone knows well enough about Haechan and his girlfriend’s on and off relationship. They break up, make up, fight and the cycle repeats.

Mark’s adam’s apple bobs as he asks another question. “Why don’t you just break up? Y’know… for good?”

The boys around them seem to have noticed the tension that built up and had their eyes fixed on the pair.

“I don’t know, man,” Haechan is too drunk to think about Mark’s question. Too drunk to realize how Mark completely sold himself off to be in love with him with that one question. It wasn’t a big secret, especially since Mark has done a poor job in hiding it, but apparently not bad enough for Haechan to see. Everyone knew, except for the clueless boy.

Jaemin was too busy babysitting Chenle, who was having his first drink tonight, to even have shots of his own. He didn’t like drinking, anyway, and used Chenle as an excuse to keep sober.

Jaemin the medical student naturally tells his friends to lay off the alcohol, as it can damage their liver. He can only do so much though, as the others tend to be hard-headed and stubborn.

“I can handle myself!” Chenle protests, reaching for his glass which Jaemin took away. “You’re supposed to drink, eat a lot then drink again,” Jaemin explains. “You’ve only taken drinks so far, you’ll be knocked out in an hour if you keep this up,” He tells Chenle.

Of course, Jaemin knew his way around drinking. He just didn’t enjoy it, doesn’t like the bitter taste of it. Didn’t like how it made him think of his past either. Jaemin’s cup remains half full, and he uses this tactic to not get refills.

It keeps him away from his phone, sober enough to know better than to drunk text her. Even if her presence was all he yearned for at a night like this.

Jaemin x Reader – By My Side

[COMING SOON]

[12:03]

As the night gets deeper, so do the conversations between the close friends. Just like Jaemin predicted, Chenle had his head down on the table already, passed out.

“Jeno, you know what to do,” Jaemin nodded his head, signaling the boy beside him. Jeno gave him his smile, which now looked more drowsy and silly because of his tipsy state.

Jeno lifts Chenle easily, with Jaemin assisting him, leaving the three boys on the table.

“I want ____. Where is she?” Chenle had his eyes closed, mumbling to his friends. Jaemin and Jeno exchanged looks and laughed at the younger.

Poor boy, had a ton of expectations to meet he couldn’t even date around.

Chenle’s main priority had to be his family, and their business. He couldn’t afford any distractions, but to him, she was more than that. She was his driving force, and it hurt the boy to be keeping her a secret. Only the boys knew about his secret relationship, if word got out that Zhong Chenle the son of the most well-respected corporate business owner was dating, it would be the entirety of Shanghai talking about it.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to show the world and tell everyone who he’s in love with, he knew she wasn’t ready to face it all and step into that kind of light yet.

Chenle x Reader – In The Limelight

While the two boys took Chenle into his room, it left the three boys and Haechan’s buzzing phone out in the cold night air that the terrace provided.

“What happened this time?” Renjun asks, in line with the phone that’s close to annoying the hell out of him if it doesn’t stop vibrating the entire table. Haechan had his head down, and he lets out a laugh. Humorless, just cold.

“I don’t get her. She wants me, then the next second she doesn’t,”

When the boy lifts his head, it’s made obvious of all the pain he’s been hiding. His eyes, teary and sullen. Renjun couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s face, clapping his hands and throwing his head back in laughter. “Aw, c’mon man! It’s only 12am,”

This, however, doesn’t humor Mark the same way. Seeing Haechan in pain was like a bullet through his heart. He gave the boy a pat on the back and watches as his head fall once again. Mark swears he saw a tear fall too.

“I’m not just an object you can set aside, then use when needed,” Haechan continues to wail. Although he was already drunk, Mark felt that Haechan’s words were the most sober when he wasn’t.

As for Mark, the literature major didn’t care much about alcohol. However, it did get his creative juices flowing. Most of Mark’s best written pieces were done when he couldn’t even remember writing them.

During blurry nights intoxicated in alcohol, Mark’s thoughts flow easily through him and onto the sheets of paper that lie around his room. Sometimes, he’ll drink on a school night to get an essay finished for it’s due date the next day.

But seeing as he had no pending things to write, Mark drank for the sake of trying to numb himself somehow. Although it didn’t work well when the person he’s trying to get his mind off of is sat right beside him, thinking of someone else.

Mark x Haechan – Always, I’ll Care

[COMING SOON]

[1:13 am]

When Jaemin and Jeno came back, Jeno was already carrying a guitar. He strums it softly to a random tune he came up with on the spot. Haechan, of course, was singing along. Throwing in words like ‘baby’ and murmuring a few words about love. By now, Renjun’s cheeks were pink and a few hiccups had already escaped him.

“Do you remember that girl Jeno dated second semester of senior year?” he says, out of the blue.

The boys need not ask who, as they all knew who Renjun was referring to. The group of boys burst into fits of laughter and the guitar takes an abrupt stop as its player shoots his friends a nasty look for bringing up his past unprovoked.

“You were smitten, bro,” Mark smacks Jeno’s shoulder as he giggles.

Jeno daggers his eyes to Renjun, who has his head thrown back, laughing.

“How about you, huh? What was her name? _____-“ Jeno begins his avengement by mentioning the name he knew would get back at Renjun. He gets cut off shortly.

“I’ll stop you right there, sir,” Renjun places a hand over Jeno’s mouth before he could speak the name.

“C’mon, how many years has that been though?” Jeno asks after getting the boy’s hand off of his mouth.

“Two, and what about it?” Renjun defensively counters, surprising the other boys.

“He knows! Wow, do you keep count?” Jaemin chuckles, amusement all over his face.

“Shut up, ____ ,” Renjun points a finger at the male, mentioning the name of Jaemin’s past lover. Jaemin’s jaw drops and he crosses his arms,

“That was low,” The corner of his lips tugged into a smile nonetheless.

“C’mon, guys. It’s not like we’re releasing bad omens talking about our exes,” Haechan tugs on Renjun to sit him back down.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve only had one ex and she’s your girlfriend,” Renjun huffs. No one dared to speak the name of Renjun’s ex around him aside from people who have balls like Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan and Mark.

It wasn’t because he was bitter about her. But try as he might, there was a feeling within him that says she’s the one. Or she was. And Renjun was stuck, thinking about all the what if’s. Even after 2 years.

Renjun x Reader – To Be So Lonely [COMING SOON]

“I see things are getting heated over here,” Jisung stood by the door to the balcony now, with a sly smirk on his face.

“Ah right, let’s talk about mister lover boy over here,” Jeno motioned to the younger boy, who surprisingly is the only one to have a love life at the moment.

Jisung was courting the student body president. He could not, however, get her to answer him, but the boy never gives up.

“You must have some balls to hit on your senior,” Jaemin comments. The student body president was in fact two years older than Jisung, but the boy was determined.

Jisung x Reader – Like A Fool

[COMING SOON]

“At least one of us is progressing in terms of love,” Renjun sighed.

“Jeno’s doing well though, isn’t he? Lots of girls always after him,” Jisung gestures to the male beside him who’d started playing the guitar once again.

“I don’t think that counts as doing well,” Jeno mutters, absentmindedly.

“Oh yeah? And how does having half the school pine over you not count as doing well?” Jaemin lightly nudges his friend.

“Because the one I love, is in someone else’s arms right now,”

And cue the exaggerated crying and wailing of his friends, who’d given him sympathetic pats on the back.

Jeno x Reader – We Find Love

[COMING SOON]

“Oh, man,” grumbled Haechan, clearly already very intoxicated. He placed his head between his hands to try and stop his world from spinning. “I got to go to her, I have to say sorry,”

The boys all averted their eyes to the boy who looks to be having his spiritual awakening.

Mark’s heart dropped upon hearing Haechan’s words. He looked down at his hands and sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time Haechan had a sudden realization and wanted to be in his girlfriend’s arms right then and there.

It usually happened when he was smashed drunk, after the 7th or 8th cup. Asking his mates to take him home and running into the arms of his girl.

Mark didn’t know why he wasn’t used to it at this point. It isn’t and never will be him.

“No way,” Jaemin tutted. “You gathered us all here to drink and bothered us for weeks then you’ll flake midway? I don’t think so,” The other boys agreed.

Renjun stretched his arms and fell back onto the chair he sat on. “What’s with the sudden change of atmosphere anyway? It’s like we did release bad omens when we spoke about our exes,”

“You just had to bring ____ up!” Jeno threw a fry at his friend, who was the first to mention his ex and start the discussion. Renjun caught the fry in his mouth, surprising the boys and himself.

“Let’s just drink up,” Renjun raises his glass in the air, although it’s half empty.

“Nice try, here have a refill. We’re all taking equal shots,” Mark had risen and was now reaching for the bottle of beer to pour his friend’s glass.

“To… I don’t know- fuck! To getting fucked up!” Haechan yelled, raising his glass in the air.

The rest of the boys do the same, clinking glasses together and downing it mercilessly to their livers.

Relationships come and go, but the dreamies are always here to stay.

115 notes · View notes

imagine-docx · 4 years

Text

sneaky.

Summary: Being neighbours with a cute boy has some perks. Also, Sam is being the best wingman (no pun intended) he possibly could. [neighbour!chubby!buckyau]

Warnings: Swearing, and some insecurity mentions and some body shaming.

A/N: Hello, quarantine has me writing again as I am officially done uni for the year. So please enjoy this jumble of different AU’s thrown into one. - Amanda

➽───────────────❥

You have lived next to James Barnes for the last two and a half years and you guys never really talked, just smiles and nods whenever you see him, and occasionally swapping mail that accidentally went to your respective houses, this was mostly because your schedules conflict but also Bucky didn’t know how to talk to a cute girl but he won't mention that part.

You’ve heard rumours about how he was a serial abuser and other nonsense from the neighbourhood, because honestly Anita from five houses down creates random fantasies she might as well be an author.

He was so used to getting stares and glares for his left prosthetic and round stomach, due to the rumours that were spread around the neighbourhood and he always shied away from contact with anyone in the area. You on the other hand? God literally sent you, so warm and loving.

He was working on his car one day, while his cat was outside with him. Looks back to see Alpine and doesn’t see his cat, slight panic until he sees that Alpine wasn’t there, but that cat is everywhere so it doesn’t bother him that much.

He heard soft lo-fi music coming from across the fence, indicating that you were outside. He looks over and sees you sitting there, on your computer between papers and notebooks and his cat sitting with you.

To you, Alpine wasn’t much chaos, in fact, a designer, he would randomly paw at something and it clicked with you that the two outfits look good.

“I’m so sorry, my cat is bothering you.” Bucky called out.

“Not at all, he constantly is spending time over here, love him like he’s my own,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Not a problem. You look exhausted, come get some coffee!” You exclaimed, with the brightest smile he’s ever seen, plastered onto your face.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want your reputation to be tainted by having him over for some coffee.

“Come! How do you take your coffee?” you said, trekking back to close all your notebooks because honestly, it's not everyday that your cute neighbour talks to you and work can always wait.

You went inside to make both of you a cup of coffee, his black, and yours with some cream and sugar. You also plated two lemon bars for the two of you, and grabbed a little yogurt from your fridge for Alpine to enjoy.

“I’m surprised you wanted to be seen with me. Especially with all the rumours, I found everyone believing them.”

“Honestly, half of them came from Anita and she is a whackjob. I’m surprised people listen to her.” You said taking a sip of your coffee.

He laughed, “You would be surprised, people look at me like I killed someone.”

“When I first moved in she told the entire neighbourhood that I got a divorce and needed massive space from my ex husband because I found him cheating with one of his juniors. People actually believed it which makes it worse. For like a year I was getting sympathetic looks for a divorce and relationship that didn’t even happen.” You cut a piece of your lemon bar with your fork.

He laughed, and felt so much more comfortable with you, like he has known you for so long. “My old place caught on fire, and I got trapped, lost m’arm. Girl left me because I had no arm, no place to stay, hit rock bottom, gained a few pounds, and Stark helped me by getting me this arm, even though I work for him and he paid for this place for me.” He said looking down, he felt comfortable enough for you to know what happened, but avoided your look, scared of judgement.

You reached out for his flesh hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You’re doing amazing James, don’t listen to what the neighbourhood chatties have to say. That’s why half of their men turn off their hearing aids when they talk.”

He smiled and you removed your hand, “Bucky.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. So how did Bucky derive from James, because there is no correlation” you said, shoving the piece of lemon bar into your mouth.

“From my middle name, Buchanan, and I guess it stuck with me since.”

“Wait, you work for Stark Industries?” You said realization dawning on you.

“Yeah…” He said unsurely as if you would kick him off your backyard patio set and never talk to him again.

“I provide the latest and never seen before suits to Tony Stark!” You laughed.

“Insurrexon?” He asked.

“Yes sir, the one and only fashion director for Insurrexon.” You said.

He laughed, “So you guys are the reason he prances around his office saying his suit is worth more than everyone’s rent.”

“Sounds like a very Tony thing to do, but yes. I am the cause of that.”

You laughed and spent the remainder of your day talking with Bucky in your backyard while Alpine takes occasional nips at the yogurt left for him.

➽───────────────❥

Since that day, you and Bucky practically became best friends. With your schedule practically all over the place you two were constantly texting to help compensate for the fact you probably saw him for a total of 10 minutes or less a day.

He noticed some days you were coming home super late and noticed the lights in your washroom and bedroom are the only lights that were on when you came home and after that he assumed you fell asleep. He felt bad knowing you didn’t eat and were constantly on the go and eating probably the most unhealthy things possible just to stay alive. So he would drop you off extra portions of whatever he made.

Or that's what he likes to tell himself. One day on his break he saw the cutest reusable container, it was glass and had little black dresses on it with a hot pink lid, and knew it matched you perfectly. That night he had an extra portion of stir fry and rice leftover in your mailbox with a note saying, ‘make sure you eat something doll’, knowing you would check it before going inside and you would hopefully eat it.

The next day after the longest shift he possibly could have had, he checked his mailbox and saw the container was back in his mailbox, he frowned thinking that you didn’t eat it. He saw a yellow post-it note attached to the top ‘thanks for looking out for me, btw the stir fry was delicious’ and he smiled, picking up the container he noticed it was quite weighty. He opened it and saw a slice of red velvet cake, keeping the grin on his face, he closed the container, gathered his mail and went inside.

And that started the entire back and forth exchange of goods.

He would cook dinner for you to enjoy at night when you come home and leave it for you, the next day he got his container back with a form of a baked good.

Everyday on his way home, he was thinking of things to make you to impress you, there were lasagnas, soups with garlic bread, steaks with mashed potatoes, and he always went above and beyond to make it with love for you.

You on the other hand found it so sweet and kept giving him cute little desserts you would bake such as cupcakes, cheesecakes, and cookies, and when you couldn’t bake anything, you would make sure to pick something up on your way home from work.

This clockwork happened almost all the time.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky was in the break room at work with Sam and Steve, and Bucky couldn’t help but gush about how cute he found you.

“Aw Baby Bucky has a crushy wushy on his cute neighbour,” Sam said, reaching for his cheeks to pinch them.

“Knock it off Wilson,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

“Buck, I haven’t seen you this happy since Dot,” Bucky winced at the mention of his ex.

“She seems to like you, and enjoys your company, make a move,” Steve said, nudging his ribs.

“She doesn’t look at me that way,” Bucky muttered.

“Buck, she literally ignores what everyone said and openly hangs out with you, I think she likes you.” Bucky felt a little string of hope when Steve said that, but couldn’t help but feel insecure.

He was 34 years old, slightly overweight and had a prosthetic and was IT director for Stark Industries. You on the other hand were slightly younger than him at 30 years old, but, god took his time creating you, you were beautiful inside and out, had a killer personality and worked as a fashion director for one of the biggest fashion chains in North America. You two were on two different levels and you were nowhere in his league.

“So Buck, when are you gonna cook me dinner?” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not in your lifetime.” Bucky retaliated, feeling a buzz in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and saw it was you and instantly smiled.

“His girlfriend messaged him, that's why he’s all smiley” Sam nudged him once again.

The three of them continued talking until Brock Rumlow, the resident dick and lead prosthetic designer walked in.

Brock pushed passed Bucky to get something from the cabinets. Brock had an attitude problem with everyone and it was still surprising that he worked at Stark Industries. “James Barnes has a girlfriend? Does she close her eyes when she fucks you? Because you are hideous.”

“Rumlow,” Steve warned.

And that’s when Bucky felt coffee trickle down his skin and the scent of coffee engulfed his nose. “Hope your girlfriend cleans you up, she might as well throw you out.” Rumlow said pushing past him.

“Buck-” Sam started before making a beeline to the mens washroom.

Bucky stood in the mirror and looked at himself, his hair was drenched with coffee, his cream coloured cardigan and white shirt were covered in brown coffee splotches, his pants and shoes got minimal damage. He dunked his head over the sink and tried washing out his hair.

As his head was over the sink, there were tears in his eyes. Of course his neighbour wouldn’t like him, he was weak. He looked in the mirror knowing he would have to sit in his coffee stained outfit for the rest of the day.

“Buck? Stark wants to see you whenever you come out.” Steve said from the other side of the door, giving him some space.

He managed to murmur out an “okay” knowing Steve’s quality hearing would have heard him. It took him a solid 30 minutes before he made his way to Stark’s office. “You wanted to see me?” Bucky said walking in.

“Ah yes, I heard about the coffee incident in the break room.” Tony said.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault, it’s Rumlow’s. Also how do you deal with Sam? I heard him screeching from here about how he was gonna, and I quote ‘Brock Rumlow’s shit so hard he wouldn’t have seen it coming.’”

“A lot of alcohol and tuning him out.”

“Makes sense.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “Take this, go buy something to wear. Can’t have my top IT director brewing in coffee like he’s a piece of tiramisu.”

“No Stark I can’t take this, you’ve done a lot already.”

“Nonsense. Take Sam and Steve with you, I can’t hear Sam screeching about fighting someone for the rest of the day, that’s gonna be one hell of an HR complaint I’m gonna have to deal with.”

“You got it.”

➽───────────────❥

And that is how Bucky, Sam and Steve spent two hours walking around Brooklyn attempting to find clothes for Bucky. Bucky couldn’t find anything that made him feel right, it was emphasizing his stomach which he didn’t want to show off.

This kept making Bucky smaller, and he didn’t want to be out anymore. Sam kept trying to hype him and Steve was reassuring that he looked fine. But after that altercation in the break room, they understood that he wasn’t in the best mood and just wanted to go back to the office and have this Friday be over.

➽───────────────❥

You were sitting in a tiny coffee shop called Dream Bean with Wanda and Natalia planning for the next collection that was supposed to drop for Valentine’s Day, the ‘Love Bomb’ collection.

“I’m thinking colours like pastels, reds, pinks, whites.” Wanda said.

“So take Valentine’s Day and throw it into a collection?” Natalia said.

“Pretty much.” You stated.

“Makes sense.” Natalia stated, taking a sip of her iced latte.

“Is this more date night and sexy lingerie?” Wanda asked, working out a sketch in her notebook.

“I mean a lot of people are single on Valentine’s Day, so why not make it a feel good collection.” You stated nonchalantly, sitting back into your chair and taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“Oh, I love having a creative genius,” Wanda exclaimed, brushing her pencil gently across the sketchbook.

“I mean it's a part of my job description,” you laughed, taking a sip out of your iced coffee and looked out the window. You noticed a familiar face. Bucky. Your heart skipped a beat, until you saw that he was drenched in coffee. Your heart hurt for him.

“Hey? Hello? Anyone home?” Natalia waved in front of your face.

“Oh sorry.”

“You okay?” Wanda asked.

“I just saw my neighbour-”

“Oh the cute one you’re so smitten by?” Nat wiggled her brows.

“The dinner one! Aw he’s so cute and treats her well.” Wanda said.

“He was covered in coffee and he seemed upset.” You started, wishing you could do something for him. That’s when it clicked with you, “Do we have any samples from the ‘No Guidance’ collection?”

“I think there are copies in my office.”

➽───────────────❥

Bucky got back to work and sat in his chair, and ran his hands over his face. He felt horrible and nothing could make this day better. Rumlow’s words managed to hit deeper than he wanted it too. Usually, Bucky was very dismissive about what Rumlow said, but now that you were a part of his life, it hit deeper.

The elevator dinged, signalling someone was coming up. Secretly he was hoping it was the grim reaper ready to come collect him. “Package for-” He read the package, “James Barnes?”

“That’s me.” He said not even looking up. When he did, he was greeted by a massive navy blue box with a yellow ribbon tied around it, and saw some white text but couldn’t make out what it said due to the distance. “Thank you.”

He noticed that the box said ‘Insurrexon’ and was confused. That was the company that you worked for. He untied it and was greeted by a white paper with black pen ink staining the paper on top of the red wrapping paper protecting whatever was in the box.

‘Was in a meeting when I saw you drenched in coffee and wanted to help you out. Hope you like it. Also, can’t have my chef soaking wet, it could get him sick’ and it was signed off with your name.

His heart burst with awe at the fact she went out of her way to get him clothes so he wasn’t wet. Part of him was embarrassed that she saw him in that state, but the joy overtook that feeling. He took the clothes to the washroom and was going to change.

He worried that he wouldn’t fit in it, but as he slid the items on, it fit. Maybe you did have a good knowledge at measurements and knew what would fit.

He looked himself in the mirror and grinned at the fact she picked an all black outfit with a light washed denim jacket and some black combat boots, he was upset at the fact that she knew how big he was, but was overtaken by happiness as his neighbour, someone he took such an interest in, picked this out, out of the goodness of her own heart.

Once he walked out of the washroom he was whistled at by Sam, “Looking good girl.”

“I thought you didn’t like anything.” Steve stated.

“His lovely girl at Insurrexon sent him stuff,” Sam said, holding up the note with his hands.

“Hey!” Bucky grabbed it. “None of your business.”

“Alright ‘chef’.” Sam mocked.

Bucky reached out to slap Sam’s head. “Hey, hey, hey, no workplace violence!” Steve said, breaking it up.

➽───────────────❥

It was the end of the day and Bucky had to drop reports back off to Tony. He walked in and gave him all the files that Tony needed. “Is that Insurrexon?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Look at you go, getting into the big leagues, huh?” Tony punched his shoulder, “Wait, was it on my credit card?” Tony nearly cried out.

“No-”

“Wait, this collection didn’t even come out yet. How did you get this and how much did you spend?” Tony cried out.

“One of my friends work for Insurrexon and sent it to me for free.”

“Was it a lady friend?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky blushed, “IT WAS! But honestly Tinman, you had a long day. Go home, get some rest, spend some time with your girl. I’ll see you Monday.” Tony said shooing Bucky out of his office.

➽───────────────❥

Upon reaching home, Bucky realized how expensive the brand truly was, and the amount of hype behind it. He also realized that Tony wasn’t lying and this was a collection that didn’t even come out yet, yet you still gave him a copy of it. He paced around his living room, even though his paycheque said he made quite the amount of money, the worth of this collection laughed at that amount. He couldn’t possibly pay it back. He was running through scenarios on how to bring it up and pay her back. He finally looked back at the clothing that he folded and put into a bag to return, and saw Alpine looking up at him, “What should I do, bud?” Alpine just meowed back at him before leaving and returning to wherever he was.

It was close to eight pm when he noticed that you came back home. Your car was in your driveway, and your living room light was on. He had to pump himself up before walking over to your door, he knocked on it three times before you opened it.

You looked even more beautiful, and he didn’t even know it was possible. There you were, makeup free, hair dampened signalling you showered, a pair of black shorts, and an oversized grey NASA shirt. He noticed you were on the phone and mouthed, “I’ll come back later.” He turned around and was about to walk off.

That’s when you grabbed his flesh wrist and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind him, he kicked off his shoes and admired your living room. He was unsure if he should sit, he looked at you as you were talking to whoever it was. You looked back at him, and signalled for him to sit down. He cautiously sat on your couch. Pen in your hand, you wrote on the post-it note.

“That’s just gonna delay ‘FIVE’ and we’re going to have to push back ‘Love Bomb’ which will have to be scrapped until next year,” you said running your hand through your hair.

Whoever was on the other line said something, you sighed, “It’s a Friday night, I can’t worry about this. Send out an email scheduling an interview on Tuesday for all the directors of different divisions.”

He admired you, even in comfortable clothes, you were a business woman strategizing ways to not prevent any delays. “Yeah, so me, Nat, Wanda, Okoye, Nebula, Val, Carole and Erik.” You wrote it down on your little post-it note, “Alright, thanks Gamora. Have a good weekend.” You said before hanging up.

You turned around being greeted by Bucky sitting there, “Hi,” he said letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Hi there. Sorry about that, work has my ass on a platter right now,” you said, chuckling, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he looked down and remembered why he came, “You didn’t have to do what you did.”

“And what was it I did?” You asked ridding your dining room table of the computer and a few sheets of paper that were littered across the table.

“Give me clothes.” He responded watching your movements.

“Bucky, it’s not a problem. You looked upset and I wanted to help you,” and after those words left your mouth, his heart nearly exploded into tiny pieces.

“I can’t possibly pay you back for this. Even Tony said it was too expensive.” Bucky said rambling.

“Bucky, do not worry about it. You don’t have to pay me back,” you said gently.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“If you want to do something, hang out with me,” you said.

“Pardon?”

“We could order dinner? Dessert? Mario Kart? I am open to criticism.” You said jokingly.

“I’d like that,” Bucky said grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright soldier, what are you craving?”

“Pizza?” He said.

“Alright.”

➽───────────────❥

Of course it was a Friday night and your favourite pizza joint had an hour wait time before they could make your order, and don’t forget the 30 minute delivery window. And honestly, you both didn’t mind and enjoyed each other’s company. Yet here you were sitting on your couch playing Mario Kart together. “I fell off again,” he grumbled at rainbow road.

“Hah- oh no,” you said, getting blue-shelled.

“I just fell off, how can I possibly fall off again?” He exclaimed.

“No no no, don’t red shell me.” You said, rushing to the finish line. The moment you crossed it, ‘FINISH’ flashed across the screen.

Bucky got up at the sound of the knock on the door, “Pizza’s here.”

“Oh, use my card to pay!” You said going to get your wallet from your bag.

“No Doll, I owe you,” he went to the door.

You stood hovered over your bag due to your cheeks burning from him calling you ‘Doll’. You went to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, and two cups getting ready to set the table. Bucky joined you in the dining room with the extra large pepperoni pizza, wings and soda.

For some reason, to the both of you, this felt right. Like this is something that you two should be constantly doing. You two were laughing at childhood stories, work stories and other funny things that have happened to you two. He helped you clean up the table and wrap up the extras.

You took out two pieces of plum cobbler and warmed it up, “Ice cream?” you asked.

“Do you have?” Bucky asked.

“What kind of girl would I be if I didn’t have any?” You joked.

“You have a point,” he laughed.

You two were back at the dining room table. Bucky let out a heavenly groan as he took a bite of the plum cobbler, “I love plum so much, and this tastes amazing.”

“Plum is that fruit that you can always enjoy,” you said, taking a bite of your own.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where do you get these desserts? They’re amazing,” he said, taking another bite.

You sheepishly said, “I bake the majority of them.”

“They’re amazing, doll. Maybe you should get out of the fashion industry and get into baking.” He joked.

“I don’t know about that part,” you chuckled, “Wanda and Nat might have my head on a stick if I leave.”

“You guys are that close?” Bucky asked.

“Practically attached by the hip. We met in freshman year of college because of this stupid textile course. Here we are ten years later, in the same company. What about you? Any close friends that are work friends but would also commit manslaughter if you left the company?”

He laughed at the comment, “I have Steve, him and I have been friends since childhood and he kept getting beat up in alleys and I had to save him. Then there’s Sam, the drama queen. Him and I met through Steve.”

You nodded your head, signalling you understood. “I don’t want to intrude, but what happened today? Why was there coffee all over you?”

He shifted in his seat, “Oh, uh.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m feeling much better now, sugar,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving a gentle squeeze with his flesh hand.

“That’s all that matters,” You said squeezing back

The two of you continued eating your dessert in harmony, occasionally making jokes.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky didn’t want to go, but it was nearly 1:30 am and he should probably let you sleep. He was strategically trying to leave the clothes on your couch without you noticing, which obviously failed.

You leaned against your door with one bag containing the clothes you gave him and the other containing leftovers and a good portion of the plum cobbler he seemed to enjoy. “Goodnight,” he said, prior to trying to walk off your porch.

“Wait, Bucky?” You asked.

He turned around, “Yes sugar?”

You hugged him, at first he couldn’t believe it, but knew this possibly wouldn’t happen again and hugged back. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime doll,” he was so ecstatic, he didn’t notice that you slipped the two bags into his hands.

“See you around?” You asked, sheepishly.

“Of course.”

You let out a smile, “Night Bucky,” before the door closed.

He smiled, before realizing she slipped him food and the clothes. He shook his head and trekked his way home.

➽───────────────❥

Over the next 2 weeks, you and Bucky got so much more closer. He came to Insurrexon when she was in and could take breaks. Other than that you tried to meet up at random diners, restaurants, bakeries, wherever was convenient to the both of you.

➽───────────────❥

It was a Friday afternoon and Bucky was irritated, Brock was making sly comments about him knowing that Bucky heard it. And on several occasions, Steve had to hold back Sam from swinging and Sam stating that, “Rumlow isn’t ready for this smoke.”

Bucky sat at his desk looking over the file Tony gave him this morning and making notes in the margin for him and Bruce to look over once Monday hit. He felt someone’s presence next to him, “Brock I don’t wanna deal with this right now,” he mumbled out, not even looking up.

“Brock? From Pokémon? I always thought I was more of a Rosa from Black and White two,” you joked.

Once he heard the familiar voice, his head snapped up and grinned, leaning back into his chair, “Thought you were more of a May from Sapphire.”

You laughed, “Is that my favourite fashion director from Insurrexon?” Tony called out.

“Of course it is,” you turned to Tony, smiled and pushed back your hair.

“Are you bringing me some new designs? Or are you terrorizing my IT director?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I prefer the second one.”

Bucky enjoyed the banter between you and Tony, “Then you are banished from my company.”

“Before you banish me, can you at least let me steal your IT director for an hour for coffee? I will bring him back in perfect condition.” You pleaded.

Tony pretended to think, “Fine, I’ll give you an hour and fifteen, but I want him back in mint condition.”

You said, “Scouts honour.”

Bucky got up and stretched his knees, “If anything comes up, let Sam deal with it until I get back.”

“I would rather not, I’ll pass it off to Banner and hopefully he doesn’t rage out.” Tony joked.

“See you at the Rocket fashion show in a few weeks?” You asked Tony.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll bring Tinman with me,” he joked.

“Doll, meet me at the elevator? I want to pass my file to Banner before I leave.” Bucky asked.

“Of course. Bye Tony,” you said before walking back to the elevator you just rode up.

Bucky grabbed the file off the desk, “So this is the girl who has my Bucky Barnes smitten?” Tony said, examining his movement.

He blushed and stuttered, “N-no, where did you get that from?”

“Buck, you literally called her doll, and the way you look at her says otherwise,” Tony said, “Don’t let her slip out of her fingers, she is a wonderful person and I can tell that she genuinely likes you back,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “It’s on me, now go get your girl.”

“Thanks Tony,” Bucky murmured out.

“Don’t worry Buck, now I will pass this on to the big guy,” Tony spoke, taking the file out of his hand.

Bucky met you at the elevator, you were leaning against the wall on your phone waiting for him. He finally took in how gorgeous you looked today. A quarter sleeve baby blue button up that was fashionably tucked into the high waisted dark blue skinny jeans, some black heels and rose gold jewelry to accent it all. “You ready Doll?”

“Been ready, let’s get some coffee. You look like you need it.” You said.

He smiled and pressed the button for down, you two were laughing and Bucky’s face dropped when the elevator doors opened. Rumlow. He got in, and you could feel the tension. You grabbed his hand and reassuringly squeezed it and kept your fingers interlocked.

Earlier when you were walking in the building, you ran into Steve and Sam by accident who were coming in from their ‘afternoon stroll’ and Sam went off and told you everything about Rumlow. “You know you don’t deserve someone like Chubs over there, why don’t you get with me instead, I’ll show you a good time.” Rumlow said.

“And you don’t deserve a job here, I can’t wait to go to Tony and let him know there’s a harassment claim against one of his employees. He wouldn’t like to hear that his favourite company can’t be providing him fashion anymore because of a harassment claim, would he now?” You gritted.

“Bitch,” Rumlow muttered before getting off.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky said, trying to let go of your hand.

You kept a grip on his hand, “I don’t have to, but I do. You don’t deserve any of that.” “So where do we wanna go?” Bucky said.

“Up to you,” you smiled at him.

“Well, we are going somewhere expensive because Tony gave me his card,” he chuckled.

You laughed, “Can’t wait.”

➽───────────────❥

You stuck out your tongue, turned back around and walked in the direction of your home.

You and Bucky enjoyed your time at the cafe. He ordered a large black coffee and a plum tart, you ordered a large iced coffee and a rainbow bit cake. His hour was up and you were walking him back to Stark Industries. Your left hand in his right hand, everything about this seems normal.

You two laughed in harmony. You turned towards him, “I’m done for the rest of the day. Movie tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.”

Bucky was about to walk off, before you called out, “Hey Bucky?”

He turned back, “Yeah doll?”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to you. You planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened, upon realization, he kissed you back.

You pulled away, “I promised Tony his IT director back, I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

He kissed your knuckles, “I can’t wait.”

You were walking away, but turned back. “Also, don’t kill Sam. He told me everything.”

He blushed then realization hit him as to what you just said and let out a loud groan, “You two are the sneakiest.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #neighbour!bucky #neighbor!bucky #chubby!bucky #chubby!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james barnes #james barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel au #winter soldier #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

-------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

---------------------------------------

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

-------------------------------------------------

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugy

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dxnahdsg · 3 years

Text

Move On || k.bakugou ||

One shot - Angst

Warnings - Mention of death, swearing

Masterlist

The sound of an alarm clock ringing woke Bakugou up from his deep slumber. Groaning annoyed, he almost smashed the clock off as he lazily sat up. Yawning and stretching, he looked over at his side seeing you sitting up beside him, smiling at him softly. Bakugou smiled back at you and rests his hand on top of yours, caressing your knuckles lightly.

"We better get ready for school, lazyass." He says, chuckling a little from your cute 'Hey!' before standing up to walk towards the bathroom.

After finishing his morning routine, Bakugou went downstairs to the kitchen, meeting his mom as well. "Hey, how're you feeling?" Mitsuki asked, looking at her son worriedly. Bakugou only looked at her confused. "Yeah...? Why? Is there something on my face or some shit?" He asks, looking st the mirror right at the sink to see. "Language!" Mitsuki scolded, hitting Bakugou at the back of the head. "And no you do not. Just go to school!"

"I need to eat first, woman! You want me to starve to death?!" Bakugou argued, an irk mark appearing on his forehead. Same with his mother's. "Go eat at school then!" Mitsuki yelled, pinching Bakugou's ear as he grunted. "Get going!" She pushed Bakugou towards the front door and began walking back to the kitchen.

"I still gotta wait for [Y/n] though! She stayed for the night, remember?!" Bakugou stated, making Mitsuki stop in her tracks and look at her son with widened eyes. "Wha-?" She questions. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at her and grumbled. "You really forgot? She stayed over at my room."

Mitsuki looked at him worriedly and stared at the direction of his bedroom. 'So he's still doing it...' She thought and sighed, looking back at her son. "Just go to school! She'll catch up."

Bakugou clicked his tongue and put on his shoes before walking outside. "Blame's on you if she gets mad at me for not waiting for her." He mumbles and shuts the door.

Mitsuki sighed once again and looked at a picture on the fireplace. It had you and Bakugou's family on it. But her gaze only focused on you with your big smile. "When is going to stop this behavior and move on..."

When Bakugou arrived at his classroom, he was met with his squad. "Hey, man. You doing okay?" Kirishima asks, hanging his arm around Bakugou's shoulder. "Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm fucking okay?! Of course I am!" Bakugou yelled and sat down on his seat with the squad following behind him. "We're just worried about you!" Kaminari stated, extending his arms towards Bakugou. "Yeah! Since you haven't been after...you know..." Mina mumbles, looking down on the ground.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at Mina and looked at her confused. "After what?" He asks. Mina shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile. "Nevermind...I won't bring it up anymore." With that, she sits down on her seat as well.

Bakugou looked around, seeing everyone rather...less chatty. He can sense the gloomy aura around them but their face had sympathetic and sad smiles. 'What the fuck is going on here?' He thought just as Aizawa came inside the room.

"Good morning class." Aizawa greets with a hoarse voice and looked at Bakugou. "Bakugou, are you doing okay?" He asks. "I'm fine??" Bakugou replies, a bit more of a question. "I'm glad to hear that. Let's begin the lesson, shall we?" Aizawa says.

"Wait. [Y/n]'s still not here. Can't we wait a little longer?" Bakugou interrupts. His eyebrows furrowed when everyone looked at him with widened eyes and worried expressions. "What the fuck are you all staring at?!"

"Bakubro... you're still on that?" Kirishima questions as he looked at his best friend worriedly. "On what?! What exactly is happening here?! You all keep asking me if I'm okay when I'm clearly am!" Bakugou yells, frustrated.

"K-Kacchan." Midoriya shakily called out as Bakugou snapped his head towards him. "What?!" He asks in a loud tone. Midoriya flinches and hesitantly spoke. "[Y/n]~san died 3 days ago..."

Bakugou's eyes widened as he heard those words. He begins to remember everything from 3 days ago. From how you died...

~~~~~

You ran and ran everywhere, trying to find him. "Where is he?!" You screamed and jumped on top of one of the buildings, looking around. Though, as you were doing so, you failed to noticed a figure behind you and covered your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

"This chick? Really?" A masculine voice asked in disbelief. "Why do we need her?" He asks. Your eyes widened hearing the familiar. 'It's the man who kidnapped Bakugou! Dabi...' You thought and tried to use your quirk but they prevent you from doing so by putting restraints on you.

"Shigaraki~sama said that this girl here is Katsuki Bakugou's girlfriend." Another masculine voice said. 'Shigaraki?!' You screamed in your mind as you looked at the two figures from the corner of your eyes. The other figure was definitely Dabi and the other...the other you cannot see but you know the voice. It was the guy from USJ, Kurogiri.

"So we use her then." Dabi stated, non like a question. Kurogiri nods and started warping at the villain's base where the other villains and Bakugou were.

"We found her." Dabi points towards you, giving you a cold look. "Perfect..." Shigaraki chuckled quietly as he took you from Kurogiri and put his hand on your neck, one finger raised.

"[Y/n]..." Bakugou whispered with widened eyes and gritted his teeth. "Don't you fucking hurt her!" He yells, trying to fight the restraints that were put on him. "I won't...until you join our side." Shigaraki stated. Hearing that made your eyes widened and looked towards at Bakugou, your eyes screaming 'no'.

"Like hell I would do that!" Bakugou growls, his glare almost piercing through Shigaraki's head. "It's not that hard, Bakugou. It's simple. Join us and leave UA and your dreams or...refuse and we'll kill this lovely girlfriend of yours." Shigaraki says, readying his finger close to your neck. "Time's ticking, Ba-ku-gou!" Toga sang, a smirk playing on her lips.

Bakugou hesitated to answer, he only looked at you in panic. Especially when he read your expression saying that he should refuse. But he didn't want you to die. Why would he let you die?

"Katsuki, please..." You whispered, catching his attention. "Refuse. Please don't betray UA and your friends just to let me live. There's no right choice but please don't join them. You have all your dreams waiting for you. Your friends supporting you and caring for you even if you're mean to them. How would they feel if you betray them?"

"I don't want you to die..." Bakugou whispered, feeling the tears on his eyes. "I know you don't want to. We both made each other happy...but happiness doesn't last long." You say, giving him a sad smile. "Please...say no..."

"Keep talking and I will not hesitate to kill you right now, lady." Shigaraki threatened in frustration. "Bakugou! Join us now or else she's dying!" He yells, his finger getting closer and closer to your neck.

Bakugou's lip quivers and stared at you with teary eyes. You smiled sadly at him and mouthed "I love you" As he mouthed it back to you along with an "I'm sorry."

"I won't fucking join you and your damn league, Crusty Skin." Bakugou growled, glaring at Shigaraki. "Well then. Time to say goodbye to your lady." Shigaraki shrugs and placed his finger on your neck. And you crumbled away.

~~~~~

"Kacchan?" Bakugou got snapped out of his thoughts when Midoriya calls out for him. He looked around, seeing everyone was still looking st him worriedly.

Bakugou gritted his teeth and stood up, running towards the door to the restroom, ignoring the calls he got from his friends and teacher.

It was all his fault.

He shouldn't have said anything.

He could've waited for the pro heroes to arrive.

But instead he lets you get killed.

And he fucking regrets it.

Why can't he just move on that you're gone?

A/n: I love angst wow. Also I changed the kidnapping scene because I don't know how to make the reader die💀

#anime #bnha #mha #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #angst #one shot

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Sweet Pea//the other one

Request: Where the reader is Josies sister, but best friends with Sweet Pea, Toni and Fangs and is secretly in love with Sweet Pea and well Josie does not know this and you can take it from here :)

hey! so this is angstyyyy, but it was fun to write! and just a warning, there is no happy ending, sorry! have a wonderful day/night!

part 2!

Being a McCoy, you get used to knowing everybody’s business, whether by accident or on purpose (eavesdropping on your mom’s meetings), but something’s happened recently that neither you nor the rest of the serpents can figure out.

Sweet Pea has changed, everyone has noticed it. Over the summer it was a relatively good change. Yeah, you didn’t really see him much because he was busy doing odd jobs at all times of the day, but when you did see him, he was the happiest he’d ever been. He actually smiled, and not just at you, Toni or Fangs, but to everyone...even Reggie. He was also chatty, and he’d never been chatty in the entire time you’d known him.

It was like a whole new side to him and another side for you to fall for.

His smile was as bright as the sun and made you feel just as warm, and you were so glad that other people were seeing it too. Because yes, the brooding bad boy act is very attractive on him...but a smile is just wonderful.

But then as quickly as Summer was over, it just disappeared. School started again and he went back to being the same old Sweet Pea. He didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t smile. He just sat in the background, not really engaging in anyone’s conversations.

If anything he seemed sad. He no longer smiled when Fangs told him a stupid joke, or laughed at Toni’s sometime’s questionable outfits she was only wearing to make Cheryl happy. He stopped hanging out at the the Wyrm on Friday nights and avoided going to the weekly bonfire’s at the Quarry.

He was just existing. And to say you were worried was an understatement. For weeks you, Toni and Fangs had tried multiple times to try and get him to talk about what was happening. There was clearly something off and given Riverdale’s history, you were all worried he’d gotten himself into something he couldn’t get out of.

But whenever you asked he just seemed to shut down. He’d become cagey and short, dismissing whatever you’d said with a shrug and an annoyed ‘i’m fine’.

You asked around the other serpents, wondering if they’d seen anything odd happening but they were all as clueless as you were. And this time your problem couldn’t be solved by hanging outside of your mom’s meetings.

Josie had told you multiple to just stay out of whatever was going on as he clearly didn’t want you to know. But she had never liked Sweet Pea anyway so she probably just didn’t care, and just wanted you to shut up about him.

You’d been friends with the serpents for years. Even when everyone hated them you proudly called, Sweet Pea, Toni and Fangs your best friends. You sat with them at lunch, hung out with them after school, despite what your mom, sister and friends had to say.

“Sweet Pea never showed up today. Did you see him?” Toni asks and you shake your head, despite her not being able to see. A cold breeze blows through your hair and you look around.

Tent city looks far creepier at night that it does at day and you’re glad you can see Sweet Pea’s not so far away.

“Nope.” You reply and rearrange the bags in your hand. “What about Fangs? He might have seen him.”

“I already text him. He said he hasn’t seen him either.” She replies and you let out a disappointed huff. “Do you think he’s okay?” She asks after a few seconds of silence.

“I dunno.” You say honestly. “There’s clearly something not right. But I’ve bought all of his favourite snacks, and I’ve brought my laptop so we can watch whatever he wants and hopefully that’ll cheer him up. Or maybe just get him to talk.” You smile down at the bags you’re holding, hope blooming in your chest.

“Hopefully.” She mumbles and you hear her move around. “Did you get Fangs’ a snack too while you were shopping?”

“What do you think?”

“Hopefully yes? You know what he’s like.” She replies and the two of you laugh.

“Yes, I got his favourite. And I got your favourite too.”

“Aww. You really are the best friend a girl could have.” She teases.

“I know.” You shrug. “It really is an honor to be my friend, I hope you know this.”

“Of course I do.” She replies. “We all do. Wait, don’t you have an English project due tomorrow?”

“Yeah? And?”

“And have you started it yet?” She asks and you roll your eyes.

“...no.” You mumble and she tuts down the phone. “Shut up...mom.”

“Oh, if I was your mother you’d know about it. You wouldn’t be abandoning school projects for some boy.” She scolds, making you roll your eyes again.

“Do you really think my mom knows where I am? She may have become indifferent towards the Southside but do you really think she’d approve of her daughter hanging out with a serpent instead of doing school work.” You ask and she hums in reply.

“Fair enough.” She laughs. “Where does she think you are?”

“She thinks I’m with Betty, having a study date.”

“Clever.” She nods. “Y/n?” She asks, her voice becoming suddenly serious and anxiety rises in your chest. You hate that tone, no matter who’s using it. But Toni only ever uses it whenever she wants to talk about two things, your feelings or Sweet Pea. “Do you still like Sweet Pea?” She sounds almost like she’s forcing the words out and your mouth goes dry.

Toni and Fangs weren’t ever meant to know just how hard you’d fallen for Sweet Pea. But apparently when you’re drunk you get sad and spill your guts about every feeling you’ve ever had for anyone.

You told Fangs how you thought he was cute when you first met and how you thought Toni was very pretty when you first met her. By the next morning the could recite the names of all your crushes dating back to kindergarten and not even you knew their names, but apparently when you’re drunk you do.

It ended in Toni and Fangs taking you back to hers and you telling them that you were in love with Sweet Pea before passing out on her bathroom floor. The next morning while you were hungover and dying, they made you have the most painful interaction you’d ever had with anybody ever.

But through your liquified brain you told them the truth.

Yes you did like Sweet Pea, you probably even loved him.

Now there’s no probably about it. You know you love him.

A part of you thinks you always have but you were just too afraid of what people would say. You’d never be allowed to date a serpent, especially because of who you were and what your family name meant to this town. You’d be the outcast, you already were because of the people you were friends with.

Now though, the residents of Riverdale have been dragged to the 21st century and very slowly, they’re realizing that it doesn’t really matter what side of the town you’re from.

Although you’re still not sure your mom would be very pleased if you came home and introduced Sweet Pea as your boyfriend...not that that would happen anytime soon anyway.

“I er. Yeah.” You stutter.

“Okay.” She says awkwardly and both of you go quiet, not really sure what to say next. “I-”

“Shhh.” You cut her off, the sound of twigs crunching makes you pause and look up. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch your sister walk towards Sweet Pea’s trailer.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Toni asks, panic rising in her voice with each word.

“Yeah. I’ll er. I’ll call you back later.” You say, not taking your eyes away from Josie. You can hear Toni asking what’s wrong but you don’t answer, instead you hang up and can already hear the lecture you’re going to get from her the next time you see her.

“Hey, Sweet Pea.” She smiles and disappears into the tent. You pick up your pace until you’re stood outside. You’re about to go in but something in you tells you to wait and see what happens. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this?”

“Always happy to see you, Josie.” Sweet Pea replies and you scrunch your face up in confusion. Since when has Sweet Pea and Josie ever hung out? They usually leave the room as soon as the other one turns up, even after the feud between the North and the Southside.

You always assumed its just because they simply didn’t get along, that was fine. Not everyone is going to like each other, but something about this feels odd, you just can’t quite put your finger on it. “Especially if this is a...” He trails off, but there’s a playfulness in his tone that you thought was only reserved for you. You heart sinks and you look at the the brown leaves wet and rotting on the floor.

“A booty call?” Josie replies and your eyes widen.

“Wouldn’t be the first one we’ve had since our Summer fling ended.” He laughs and the realisation sinks in. You’ve been so stupid. For years you’ve fawned over and followed Sweet Pea, constantly trying to cheer him up or make him laugh and get him to see the real you.

And he has, he’s been looking at it all those years, he just didn’t like it. He preferred Josie instead. Smarter, prettier Josie who’s way more popular and talented and just better than you at everything, including liking Sweet Pea it seems. Tears prick at your eyes and you sniffle, wanting nothing more than to run away and hide, but you can’t. Your feet are stuck, despite the rest of your body screaming at you to run.

Run as far away from them as possible. Run until no one can find you. Just run.

“Well, it’s not.” She says awkwardly. “Um...I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my mom is getting married, to Kevin’s dad. And I wanted to know if you would be my date to the wedding.”

“As your boyfriend?” He asks hopefully.

“Does it have to be so official?”

“Look, Josie...I like you. And I’d be all in with you in a second, but...but you sliding into my life whenever you don’t wanna be alone. I’m not built that way. Maybe that makes me needy, but I just, I gotta get off this merry-go-round with you.” He sighs and tears run down your cheeks.

“Okay.” She agrees. “You are still invited to the wedding though...if you’d like to come.”

“Yeah, I er. Y/n already invited me anyway.” He shrugs and anger fills your chest. You know you probably shouldn’t, but you just see red and the next thing you know you’re storming through the door, much to the surprise of them both.

“Yeah I did.” You seethe.

“Y/n?” Josie asks, her eyes wide as she scrambles to think of an excuse. “I was jus-”

“What are you doing here?” Sweet Pea jumps up from his bed and stands in front of you.

“I came here to cheer you up, you ass.” You sob and throw the bags to the floor. “I brought all you’re favourite things and I thought we could hang out because you’ve been so sad recently and nobody knows why and we were all so worried about you. But now I do. It’s because of her. And you guys didn’t even tell me. Do you know how worried I’ve been about you?”

“Sorry?” He asks and you shake your head at him, sending him a glare he’s only ever seen a handful of times and never directed at him.

“All those jobs you said you were doing over the summer. It was just a cover wasn’t it?” You cry and he looks over at Josie before nodding slowly.

“Unbelievable.” You laugh bitterly before turning your attention to Josie. She stands a little straighter when you look at her, trying her best to have the upper hand here, but she’s more worried that you’re going to go and tell your mom.

“And you? Really Josie. You go for years hating his guts. You give me so much shit for even talking to him, and you’re screwing him?”

“I er-I.” She stutters.

“I’m such an idiot.” You sigh. “You know a part of me thought you were happier because of me.”

“Y/n.” Sweet Pea tries to reach you but you quickly move away from him.

“Don’t.” You warn.

“Wait, why are you so upset with us? We’ve been getting along, you’ve been wanting that to happen for ages.” Josie asks.

“Because I am!” You shout. “Because you’re the worst sister in the world. You know when we were younger I could never have my own toys. If I had a doll, you had to have it. Even if mom got you one that was exactly the same. On my birthday you had to get your own present otherwise you would steal mine, and even then you’d still steal mine. And I thought, yeah that’s fine. That’s what sisters do and we were just kids then. But then we got older and we had to share friends and finally when I thought I would be able to be liked for being me. Everyone seemed to realize that you were the most interesting out of us. You had a band, and you’re so talented and pretty and just like-able and I’m none of those things.”

“Y/n, that’s not true.” Josie starts, her voice remaining calm despite your loud cries. “It’s not true is it Sweet Pea?” She hisses and Sweet Pea jumps at the tone.

“What, no of course not.” He says, also moving to stand in front of you. Each of them rest a hand on your shoulder but it does nothing to calm you down, if anything it makes you angrier. Years of resentment that’s been simmering under the surface has come to a boiling point.

“Get off!” You shout and they quickly move away.

“And then I got my own friends, a group of people who liked me for who I was and who I could be myself with. I wasn’t just the other McCoy. You know, the mayor, the one in the band and the other one. But then nobody liked them and everyone told me I was horrible for wanting to be friends with them.”

“Y/n. Please just breathe.” Sweet Pea tries again, resting a gentle hand on your upper arm and you suck in a breath.

You’ve never seen him look so worried and you hate yourself for doing that to him, despite what’s just happened. Another set of tears roll down your cheeks and your shoulders slump. Sweet Pea wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a proper hug and him and Josie share a confused expression.

“Woah.” Fangs’ confused tone cuts through the awkward atmosphere and him and Toni glance at each other before looking and Sweet Pea and then Josie. “We thought you could do with some company. Plus Toni told me that Y/n bought me some Twizzlers and I couldn’t wait until tomorrow. ”

“Forget about the Twizzlers Fangs.” Toni rolls her eyes and he lets out a disappointed whine. “What’s she doing here?” Toni asks and Josie looks at the floor.

“Leaving.” Josie nods at them. “I’ll see you around Sweet Pea.”

“No you’re not.” You reply and move away from Sweet Pea to grab her wrist. “I know why Sweet Pea went from being so happy to being so depressed.” You fake a cheery tone. Sweet Pea and Josie sigh and look at the floor, while Toni and Fangs just look at you confused.

“It’s because him and Josie were hooking up. But she’s dumped him and that’s what’s made him so sad.”

“Wait really?” Fangs eyes widen. Toni grabs your hand and you send her a watery smile.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “I’ve had enough of chasing after things that clearly aren’t real. So, I’m the one leaving. I’ll see you at home Josie, and don’t worry, I won’t tell mom.” You watch as she lets out a relived sigh and gives you a thankful smile before quickly leaving.

You turn to face Sweet Pea who’s already staring at you. His deep brown eyes scan over your body and it makes your face hot. He’s desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong and you have a feeling the tight feeling that’s settled in your chest, has a matching one sitting in his.

“Goodbye Sweet Pea.” You say the three most painful words you can possibly think of. They taste like ash on your tongue but as soon as they’re out you feel the weight lift a little.

Being in love is nothing like it is in movies. It’s not a secret language that only the two of you know, or spending the entire day with somebody and never wanting it to end.

You thought it was, but it’s not. It’s far more painful than that, especially if the person you’re in love with looks at someone else the way you look at them.

“Where are you going?” He laughs confused.

“I really, really hope she changes her mind.” You smile through your tears and despite everything it’s a genuine wish. He’s still your best friend after all, and you want him to be happy even if it’s not with you.

“What?” His voice breaks as he watches you leave. Toni follows after you and you force yourself to keep staring ahead. Focus on the run down sign up ahead that creaks in the wind and is one storm away from falling down.

“Can someone tell me what I’ve done wrong.” Sweet Pea asks.

“You went after the wrong sister, you idiot.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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