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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

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Burn The Witch 24 - Post Break Up [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Break ups are never easy.

Series Masterlist

A real spy, a good spy didn’t get scared.

That was one of the most important things they had taught you back at the academy. Being scared got you killed, so you always had to look for weapons or something you could use to save yourself.

Save yourself, take the target down if you can, and if you can’t; get out of there as soon as possible.

For some reason, none of those options felt like they would work against the most feared assassin in the world. Bucky tilted his head, his gaze bored into yours and you stole a look at the counter from the corner of your eye to see what you could use against him.

“Oh come on, do we really have to do that?”

You grabbed the knife on the counter, flipping it in your hand.

“What kind of an assassin would I be if I didn’t fight back?”

He pulled his brows together.

“Fight back?” he asked but before he could say anything else, you had already lunged at him. He dodged the knife way too easily and grabbed to twist your arm, but you went under his arm and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum to make him lose his balance before you both fell to the ground.

“Brings back the memories,” you grunted and he got out of your tight grip quite easily to grab at you, but you had already jumped on your feet. You darted at him and he sent you back, your back hitting the wall hard. You fell on your knees and snatched the knife off the floor but as soon as you got on your feet again, he let out a breath.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

A hysterical laughter escaped from your lips, “You do realize that it’s not my first day, right?”

“Do you seriously think I’d hurt you?”

“I think if somebody crossed me the way I crossed you, I wouldn’t let them live.”

“Yeah well, good thing I’m not you.”

You frowned slightly, trying to catch your breath as you held the knife tighter.

“Then what the fuck is this?” you asked, “Closure?”

“Oh no I think we’ve had closure,” he said, anger dripping off his voice, “This is a transaction.”

You stared at him and he reached into his pocket to pull out a thumb drive.

Well.

Okay. It was clear that you had misread this situation.

You put the knife on the table and crossed your arms, leaning back, “What is that?”

“This is the information of everyone I hurt on my Winter Soldier days,” he said, “Dates, names, occupations…. Your father’s name isn’t on it.”

Your stomach did a painful flip, “I know,” you rasped out, “I… um- I found out after I left that night.”

“HYDRA doesn’t have anything on your father, as far as I’ve seen.”

You nodded slowly, “And you’re helping me why?”

“I’m not helping you,” he stated, “I just know how it feels to be manipulated into doing something. Everyone deserves answers, no matter how terrible people they are.”

Well, you deserved that and much more.

“I see,” you said, “Well, for what it’s worth, thank you.”

He eyed you up and down silently.

“Why did you try to get me out of the country?” he asked after a beat, “That night? Why did you try to help?”

You bit inside your cheek, commanding yourself to stay strong.

“Does it matter after this point?” you asked back and he let out a breath, shaking his head.

“I guess not,” he mumbled and walked to the window, making you take a step towards him.

“Can I—“ you spoke before he could jump out, making him turn around to look at you, “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Why would you not want revenge?” you asked, “It’s assassin 101. Why not come after me for all these months?”

Why didn’t you try to find me?

That was what you wanted to ask. As twisted as it was, you would’ve taken him coming after you over him forgetting about you.

Well, as it turned out, no one could say assassins were reasonable people when it came to romance.

“I’m not that person anymore,” he said, “And honestly? You’re not worth it.”

Ah. That.

You could swear your heart was cracking but you pursed your lips together, forcing yourself to look unaffected.

“Fair enough,” you rasped out and took a deep breath. “Goodbye Bucky.”

He swallowed thickly, his gaze fixed on you.

“Goodbye Shrike,” he murmured and jumped out of the window, leaving you all alone, standing there in the middle of your apartment. You blinked back the tears, then ran a hand over your face.

“Get your shit together,” you murmured to yourself, then grabbed the wine glass to down it.

The next day you were so busy with the HYDRA files Bucky had given you that you barely noticed Keith pulling a seat to plop down beside you.

“Hi there.”

“Hey,” you said without pulling your gaze off the screen as Keith put a cup of coffee on the table. “Thanks man.”

“No problem. What’re you working on?”

“Oh just some old files.”

“Old files? Where did you get them?”

“Bucky gave them to me last night.”

Keith sputtered out his coffee, causing you to make a face and grab the napkins to wipe the screen.

“Is this your first time they let you out into the real world or something?” you asked him, “Like, what is this? Were you raised in a barn? I don’t want your fucking germs—“

“Screw you. You met Barnes last night?” he lowered his voice, looking around and you shrugged.

“Met is the wrong word.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?”

“It’s not like I texted him to meet!” you whispered, “He just showed up!”

“Okay, we need to give you some protection—“

“No, and you’re not telling anyone.”

“You’re not safe!” he whispered and you shook her head.

“He’s not gonna hurt me.”

“Y/N-“

“He’s not,” you cut him off, “If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. I talk big talk, but trust me if he came after me, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I actually saw that last night.”

“Why was he there?”

“To give me this thumb drive,” you said, “I’m just going through this HYDRA stuff to see whether they had something on my father, whether— I don’t know, whether I missed something on our files.”

“We checked everything we had on HYDRA.”

“I’m just making sure.”

“What did he say?”

“Hm?”

“What did you talk about last night, when he showed up?”

“You know, typical break up stuff,” you murmured before peeling your eyes off the screen. “He broke into my apartment, gave me a thumb drive with top secret information and oh—before I forget, he said I wasn’t worth going after.”

He blinked a couple of times, staring at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“So much for civil exes huh?”

“More like evil exes,” he commented, “You know he’s being a jerk to you because you tore his heart out, right?”

“I can’t really blame him,” you muttered, “He’s right to be upset.”

“But are you okay?”

You scoffed a laugh, “I betrayed the one person who I could see a future with,” you admitted, “And six months apparently wasn’t enough to get over him. So no, Keith, I’m really not okay.”

He pressed his lips together.

“What if we got you out there? You know, maybe you can’t get over someone without getting under someone.”

“I’ve had sex in the last six months, that’s not working.”

“Barnes hasn’t.”

That was enough to make you turn your head, your whole attention on him.

“What?”

“We’ve um… we’ve kept an eye on Barnes and Wilson, you know, what they have been doing. Barnes isn’t even meeting people.”

“Maybe he is and you don’t know.”

“Nope,” he said, “He and Captain America have been going on their own missions, but since Accords 2.0 didn’t pass, we can’t touch them.”

You tilted your head, “Hold on, what missions?”

A big grin pulled at Keith’s lips.

“Y/N, are you asking me to share classified information with you?”

You arched a brow and eyed you up and down, then steered your office chair a little to the left.

“I’m glad you came back,” he said, dragging his fingers on the touchpad to find the files, “Things were getting a little boring here.”

As a spy, finding targets wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. In fact, since coming back here you were beginning to feel less like a professional spy and more like a rookie in training. You were growing restless every minute you weren’t working, and maybe that was why you were dying to keep yourself busy with something.

Even if that something was completely forbidden by your agency and you would probably be sent to another country again if they ever found that out.

So searching for where Bucky and Sam were using the agency’s resources was probably a bad idea, yet there you were.

You took a deep breath, then approached their table and plopped down to the seat next to Bucky’s.

“You’re going after HYDRA’s leader?”

Bucky’s head whipped up and Sam gawked at you for a second before pulling his brows together.

“What the…”

“Who’s your source?”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked through his teeth and you crossed your arms.

“Paying back the favor.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want you here.”

“How did you even know-“

“I’m a spy, Sam,” you stated, “And the agency has been watching you, do you guys seriously think we've left you alone?”

“I was actually hoping you’d leave me alone, yeah.” Bucky growled through his teeth and your heart dropped to your stomach, but you managed to shake your head.

“I don’t—“

“Your agency has been keeping tracks on us?”

You nibbled on your lip, “Just because Accords 2.0 was a failure…” you trailed off and Bucky scoffed, drumming his metal fingers on the table.

“Why are you here?”

“Listen I get it, you hate me,” you said, “Fine. Not a big deal, I can live with that. But I just- I can help.”

Bucky stared at you as if he was waiting for you to say you were joking, but when you didn’t, he let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re not serious, right?”

“Bucky,” Sam said warningly and he threw his hands up.

“You can’t possibly be entertaining this.”

“I’m just asking what the agency knows, that’s all.”

You heaved a deep sigh, trying your hardest not to show your disappointment on your face. It wasn’t like you expected Bucky to welcome you, but you were at least hoping—

Well.

It didn’t matter what you were hoping, it was very obvious that Bucky would never forgive you.

“They’ve just been keeping tracks on you,” you said, “I don’t think any of them put the clues together, and they can’t touch you even if they did, you’d have to do something first. Especially after the last fail—“

“Oh you mean when they took me in after you lied to me about everything and leashed them on me?” Bucky asked you, “That fail?”

You clicked your tongue, “Yeah. That one.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Bucky.”

“But I’ve been going after different HYDRA officials for the last couple of years, and I’ve spent the last 6 months going over everything we had on them, I know some of their locations. So going after HYDRA leader then? Or his super secret location? Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Forgive me if I’m not in a sharing mood after learning about what a liar you are. As far as you’re concerned, we’re not doing anything.”

“But I’m trying to make amends—“

“Not interested.” Bucky cut you off and you swallowed thickly.

“You’ve seen me fight,” you insisted, “You’ve— you’ve seen how good I am at my job, okay? I just— I swear I won’t say anything to the agency, just let me help.”

Sam looked between you two and turned to Bucky.

“That’s not such a—“

“Don’t say it.”

“Even you have to admit, that’s not a terrible idea.”

“You’d have to be crazy to think you can trust her,” Bucky argued back, “I get that you always want to see the best in people, but you can’t, not with her.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you reminded him and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I know, feel free to leave.”

“Don’t,” Sam told you and Bucky frowned.

“You’re joking.”

“Bucky, she could help.”

“And then turn us in.”

“The agency lied to me about my father, I’m not going to turn you in or do anything to have me manipulated by them again. Whatever the mission is, they won’t know about it, you have my word.”

“Because your word holds any value for me?” Bucky asked you, his voice way too calm and you clenched your jaw.

“The mission doesn’t require a honey trap,” he said when you didn’t answer his rhetorical question, “Thanks for the offer though, Y/N. Go to hell.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you just sat there completely frozen. You could swear your heart weighed a ton in your chest, and your eyes were burning but you quickly blinked the tears back, then shrugged your shoulders.

“That went well.”

“Do you really want to help?” Sam asked after a couple of seconds of silence and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You scoffed a bitter laugh, “Other than apparently signing my own death warrant?” you asked, “I owe him. He doesn’t want to go after me for using him, fine. He still deserves justice. HYDRA destroyed his life, the least I can do is help him get back at them, make them pay.”

Sam raised his brows, “You feel that guilty huh?”

You didn’t have any answer to that, and he took a deep breath.

“Can I trust you?”

“You can,” you murmured, “I want you to, but… I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase the question, will you betray his trust again?”

There was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke, “I’d rather die.”

Sam held your gaze as if trying to see whether you were sincere or not, then cleared his throat.

“Let me think about it,” he said, “I’m not saying no, okay? Let me think about it and talk with him.”

You nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

He shot you a small smile, then walked out of the café, leaving you alone there. You shut your eyes, leaning your head back and letting out a breath.

“Great,” you muttered, “This should be fun.”

Chapter 25

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines

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lily-drake · 3 years

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Fantasy/Twin AU

Sorry for being late and not posting for a bit. Was a bit burnt out and had writer block. I will go back to write the other days soon though. Also, sorry, I suck at writing wing aus, this is my first time doing it.

Earth J-236, an earth full of mystical life. An earth where everyone is born with wings. Your wings represented who you are; well not really, but that’s what people believed. If your wings were bright and colorful then you were obviously an amazing person, but if your wings were darker or had little color, then you have great evil in your soul. Marinette was born seconds after her twin, Damian. It takes a few years before your wings fully grow in, usually to about 6. But with the accelerated growth serums used in their artificial wombs, it took them till they were three for their feathers to sprout. Damian’s were black like their father’s with subtle hints of red like their mothers. Marinette’s were pure black, devoid of any color, and her mother was so proud of that. She was the League’s charm, for it’s believed that anyone with pure black wings was pure evil. Her only purpose being to protect her brother, nothing else was more important than her brother’s safety. She would die for him, because if he died she might as well have died as well as her only purpose for living would be gone.

Damian glared at his sister, his wings ruffling in annoyance. She was hovering close to him again, and she never said anything to him ever unless she was completely sure they were alone. He did not believe that his sister was or could ever be, “pure evil” just because of her wings. In fact, her mannerisms are the exact opposite of what people believed. She, in her own ways, is caring, sweet, and protective. He had seen, and helped, her nurse a baby bird that had fallen from its nest back to health. She would often place little things around the base for only him to find such as some extra baklava, a throwing knife, a drawing of someone, beads, or other random objects. Grandfather had always been extra hard on her, making sure she wouldn’t betray them, she wouldn’t become “evil enough to lose herself”. Sometimes she would sneak into his room at night, and it tore him apart to see silent tears run down his little sister's face as small black raven feathers fell onto the floor from her days worth of training. He had been learning how to fly, her wings had been clipped every two or three months so she could not leave the base. She had learned long ago to control her facial and wing expressions, but he could always see the droop in them and the sad shine in her eyes as she stood on the ground while he was in the air.

________

Marinette looked up and watched as the fiery Phoenix flew through the air setting Nada Parabat aflame. She didn’t feel much as she watched her grandfather get blown up. She only felt great anxiety and fear as she could not find her brother. She loved her brother, and if her job was to cause chaos, she would make sure she could prevent it from hurting him. Grandfather had told her about how cursed she was, it’s why they had to be extra tough on her, and she understood that. They couldn’t have her hurting anyone they needed, only the people they wanted gone. She was angry at grandfather yesterday for taking some of her feathers for failing a task, this must have been her fault. She didn’t want to hurt her brother, her wings had only proven nothing but destruction. She had to leave now, then she could go where no one else was, and she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone else. So like a coward, like the disgrace she was, she ran. She kept her wings tight against her back making sure that no one could grab them as she ran. An arrow hit one of them, but she didn’t have time to think about the burning pain as she ran and ran and ran farther and farther and farther away. Tears ran down her cheeks as she silently prayed that her brother would be okay.

She didn’t know how long she ran, but she knew it must have been a really long time as she had just collapsed from exhaustion in the woods. She looked back at her wings and slowly and carefully spread them out and hissed in pain from where the arrow had pierced her left wing. Drops of red slowly dripped down her feathers and dropped on the ground. She quickly closed them and made sure they were as small and put away as possible. She looked up at the trees made of brass with different colored jade leaves. Pearl-like apples growing on a few. She watched a baby griffon follow it’s mother in the distance, turtle ducks waddling to a pond somewhere nearby, deer nibbling on plants, she could hear the rustling of leaves and branches from unseen creatures and everything was getting more blurry and dark. She was cold, it felt very cold. She slowly unwound her wings from around herself and closed them tightly around her, but that didn’t stop the chill that went deep down to her bones. She was a failure, a mistake, she would only cause harm. Here she wouldn’t be able to do that, and if she died here, then no one would be hurt by her again, and wasn’t that such a nice thought.

________

Tom and Sabine had finally been able to hire some trusted employees and explore places in Tibet. They had made lots of money over the years with their successful bakery, and they thought now was a better time than ever to go on a real honeymoon as they hadn’t been able to afford it before when the bakery had first started. It was during one of these forest explorations when they saw a trail of little drops of blood and felt they needed to follow it. What they discovered broke their hearts. There lying on the cold forest floor was what appeared to be a child hugging their very black wings around them. They knew of the rumors and myths of black winged people, but they did not care. They believed that their wings were not what made them evil, but rather situations put into their lives. Sabine quickly checked for a pulse, and though it was slow she sighed in relief when she felt it. She quickly handed the small unconscious girl to Tom and they both quickly went to the nearest hospital. How could someone leave such a small child all alone to die like that? It looked as if she had been injured if the dried blood on the small fragile wings said anything. And worst of all, upon closer examination, they had been clipped, recently too.

As soon as they arrived they carried the small girl to the front and demanded that they take her in. They waited until the doctors were done and gave them permission to visit claiming to be the girl’s adopted parents. It wasn’t technically a lie, they would be soon even if Sabine had to force it to happen.

When Marinette woke up she knew something was off. She was under a blanket, she’s never been given a blanket before. The sent of bleach and chemicals were everywhere and it hurt her nose. There was a beeping noise next to her that was giving her a headache. She didn’t know where she was, and that was bad. She opened her eyes a small fraction so nobody could see she was awake and looked around as much as she could. The entire room was white and there were bright lights. There were two strange people waiting in chairs near where she was laying. She wondered if they were the ones who brought her here. Slowly she opened them up all the way and silently sat up. It’s best to make no noise, then she wouldn’t disturb anyone.

“Oh sweety, I’m so glad you’re awake.”

The woman said in a cheery and relieved manner, but she just continued to watch and study them silently. Her wings felt stiff against her back, though she made sure they didn’t move or give anything away.

“How are you feeling dear?”

Silence greeted them, and her face remained as impassive as ever. They wanted something, why else would they save a freak like her? What were they aiming for here?

“Did your parents hurt you? If so, we can take you away from them.”

Marinette’s eyes widened only a fraction. These were randoms, innocents if you will. They obviously had no idea who she was, and they seemed unafraid of her and her wings. Did they not know how dangerous she was, didn’t they know that black wings meant she was cursed? The man and the woman looked at eachother and spread their wings. Marinette was shocked, but she wouldn’t show it.

The large man had light brown eagle wings while the small woman had white and black woodpecker wings. She wanted to reach out and touch the feathers, but then something bad would happen to them, so she held her hands together.

“We don’t care what your wing color is. Your wings don’t define who you are, it’s what you do with your life that does. Can we please help you?”

The woman said sincerely as she gripped the man’s hand in hers. She felt a pull to them, something telling her to accept. She didn’t want to hurt them though. But maybe she could protect them? Maybe she could find a way around her curse and make sure they don’t get hurt? Slowly she nodded and they both looked so happy when she did. She hoped that she wouldn’t hurt them, they didn’t deserve to be cursed. Maybe if she didn’t touch them things would be ok. If she didn’t let them touch her then it wouldn’t spread. She could do this!

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Apparently she couldn’t do it because this is a very affectionate family, and the first thing that happened before they let her sleep on their —super fluffy, pure Heaven— bed was give her a hug. She had made sure that her wings were tucked under her clothes and tight against her back the entire time though. So they didn’t touch her wings, so maybe that meant they wouldn’t be cursed.

It was strange, because the next morning they went to a courthouse, and she was adopted. She hadn’t said anything throughout the entire event, she just watched and observed what people did. They stayed in Tibet for another few days before they flew to Paris, France. This was supposed to be her new home. The city of light and love. Maybe here, it would stop her curse. It was so bright that it had to block out her darkness. She still always carried one of her knives with her, she felt naked without one. Tom and Sabine seemed to understand somehow, and said that it was her business and that was enough for them till she was ready to talk about it. It was strange not to be interrogated for now wanting to tell someone something.

Marinette had lived with the Dupain-Chengs for about a year now. It was strange really, they were honest business people and their joy was always sincere. They didn’t question much of what she did even though it was probably weird to them. They didn’t punish her for messing up like the league did, and they never went near her wings without permission. They never plucked her feathers, and they would often ask if they could preen her wings. She would refuse every time, but she would often wonder what it would be like to have someone else touch them. Think of what it would be like if she weren’t cursed. When it was time for school she would always wrap them around herself then tape them so no one would see or be able to touch them. Things were finally going well, she couldn’t risk it now!

There was a blonde brat that liked to act like she was above her, and because her wings were always hidden with no explanation she made sure everyone knew that she was “wingless”. She didn’t care though, being wingless was better than being evil winged. She never really said anything in class or to other students, she never gave much reaction keeping her stoic face up. The brat left her alone soon after for being a, “ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous freak.” And nobody was the wiser.

Being Lady Chaos was….the best thing that ever happened to her if she was being honest. Even with pure black wings, people still thought she was a hero. She never flew, she was scared she’d fall and die. She was never allowed to fly before, and even if she technically can do so now, it’s not worth the risk. Her partner though, Mr. Bug has gold, red, and black wings. He can fly through the air with ease she wished she desperately had. Sometimes after patrol she would go to the very top of the Eiffel Tower and just stretch her wings out as far out as she could. She would close her eyes as the wind blew past her and ruffled her feathers and pretend that she was soaring through the air.

________

Year three of living with Tom and Sabine she was comfortable talking to them more, and with Plagg there to control her chaos she finally let them touch her wings. It was strange really, she never took care of her wings, never cared enough to. When she first felt the hands on her feathers she had to will herself not to draw them back for fear of them plucking or ripped out. But Sabine’s hands were so gentle and smooth that they seemed to move on their own and go closer to her touch. Sabine would smile and hum as she gently preened the dark raven feathers that were soft and smooth. Maybe she could finally tell the class that she wasn’t wingless soon, and maybe they would be okay with it.

No, they would not as she learned from listening to her classmates talk to the new student, Lila Rossi. To them Lady Chaos was the only good black winged person because she was chasing after Mr. Bug to earn his affections. Lady Chaos was obviously evil before she met Mr. Bug and she would always be evil no matter what she did. Marinette felt nauseous that she ever thought about telling them the truth. She had never felt more betrayed than she felt now, because she had given them her trust, and they broke it without even knowing it. After that day, she made extra sure that her wings were hidden and wore a bit thicker clothing just in case. Tom and Sabine are a little worried about it, but she calmed them pretty quickly. She was fine, it wasn’t like they were all great friends to begin with. That’s probably why everyone sides with Lila and decides that she’s a terrible person.

She had tried leaving her past behind, pretending that she didn’t hurt and kill people. Pretend that she wasn’t a weapon. She tried to push it far away, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. She had abandoned her brother. She betrayed the league. She did unspeakable things to please someone who would never care about her, just her use. The city of lights seems duller than usual, it was probably her fault Hawkmoth came to be in the first place, afterall she was cursed to bring ruin everywhere she went.

________

Lila and Chloe thought it would be a great idea to bring everybody to the Crime Capital of the World for their senior trip. Probably to watch people flounder and worry when things go wrong, which they definitely would. She had stopped Hawkmoth a month before the trip, but Mr. Bug took all the credit for it. The arrogant self centered bas*. Adrien kept giving her side glances that always made her feel uncomfortable and slightly disgusted. During school he would try to touch her with every chance he’d get. He almost discovered her wings at one point. She couldn’t do anything about it before because of the stupid your-rich-so-do-whatever-the-heck-you-want treatment. Now that Adrien’s family fortune is gone, and people don’t trust him because of what his dad did, so he has to be more careful. He now kept some distance, which she was extremely grateful for.

She would have broken his hand, she had imagined it plus other things more than once. But then Tom and Sabine would get in trouble by Gabriel for her actions. They didn’t deserve that, they had been nothing but good to her since they found her abandoned in that forest.

She would be fine though, as long as Lila had a grip on his arm and she was in the back, away from him. She listened to their tour guide, Richard Grayson, talk about the history and importance of WE. The architecture was brilliant really, and you couldn’t blame her for having to draw and sketch it. She often thought of Damian when she sketched. She used to leave drawings for him around the base, little things that expressed her adoration for him without getting too close. She wondered if he was still with the league, had he escaped, did he die? She hoped that wasn’t the case, she hoped that he would be alive and well. Bright orange and white wings nearly slapped her in the face if she hadn’t stopped right before the movement had occurred.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry Marinette! Sometimes my wings just spasm out of control like that! I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Marinette just silently rolled her eyes and took a few steps backward and watched the class glare at her waiting for her to comfort the liar. She would never lower herself to do that. She was still an Al Ghul afterall, even if she did leave it behind when she fled. She was thankful when lunch came, she waited far away from the line and watched silently from a dark corner to make sure no one would hurt her. Then she felt it, a hand touching her back feeling for something. She quickly and instinctively grabbed the arm and twisted it behind them pinning it behind their back at a painful angle.

“Ukhti, let go.”

Marinette knew that voice. She remembered that name and she could feel her heart stop. The lunchroom was silent as they watched the small bluenette silently and quickly release the “Ice Prince”. Everyone watched with bated breaths to see what would happen next. The boy’s wings were ruffled in agitation and fear.

“Where are they?”

He demanded. Marinette knew what he was talking about, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and turned her head away definitely.

“Why are you hiding them, Malak? Please.”

Marinette could feel her wings moving in defiance to what her brain was saying. They wanted to be shown, they wanted to be touched by her brother again. She looked down and slowly uncrossed her arms from her body. Damian gently took her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes.

“Everything will be ok, Taw'ami.”

She slowly nodded and with shaky fingers reached under her hoodie and began to slowly unwrap the tape that kept her wings confined. When all the tape was in her hands she hesitantly removed her hoodie and let her wings unfold from around herself and into the open. She had made shirts that let her wings slip through slits in the back that were tailored to her wings specifically and were most comfortable. Damian marveled at how big her raven wings had grown and how shiny they were. He reached out a hand slowly and gently ran his fingers down the inky black that was her wings.

Shouts of fear and accusations were thrown at her, mostly from her class. She didn’t listen though, she just observed. The tour guide was coming over now, probably to kick her out. He had such lovely wings though, they were a deep navy blue that looked similar to black with dark red and light blue running through them. They looked so well kept and soft.

“Damian, what’s happening? Who is this?”

“Grayson, meet my twin sister, Marinette.”

“You have a twin?!”

Richard exclaimed loudly, drawing even more attention. The insults and jeers stopped after that. She looked over at the class and smirked when she saw their shock and confusion.

“Yes, keep up.”

Damian said brusquely. They must know each other well then.

“Come, we must take her away from these imbeciles and take her to father.”

Damian grabbed her wrist and tugged, her quickly falling into line like she used to when he did this.

“Now tell me Ukhti, have you been taking care of yourself?”

She nodded as they came to an elevator and walked into it with Richard right behind them. Marinette felt her feathers fluff up nervously. She wasn’t in control of them right now, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Damian ran a hand gently down her right wing trying to smooth it down.

“Things will be fine Marinette. Just watch, father will be glad to meet you.”

She looked him in the eyes and squeezed her hands together.

“No, I have not told him about you. Things will be fine though.”

He seemed to understand her weird way of communicating, she still didn’t understand how he did. Richard cleared his throat and both turned to look at him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but um…I’m Dick, I’m Damian’s, and yours I guess, oldest brother. It’s nice to meet you.”

He spread his wings in a welcoming way that meant and showed safety and peace. Her wings involuntarily rose up as well to reciprocate his greeting. When the door to the elevator opened again she quickly forced her wings to hide on her back trying desperately to keep them from sight. Damian didn’t seem to like it, but he just grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a large office room. The plaque on the door read “CEO Bruce Wayne”. Their father was Bruce Wayne?! She couldn’t go in there, she couldn’t curse him and ruin his life. No, she had already messed up at the league, and she was just barely not messing up with Tom and Sabine, she would definitely ruin Bruce Wayne’s life, and she would not allow that to happen. She tugged at his grip desperately trying to get away.

“Marinette, stop. Your wings are not cursed, that was a lie.”

Marinette shook her head and kept trying to escape the iron-like grip.

“Do you not trust me anymore?”

She froze at that and quickly shook her head. Of course she trusted him, it was her that shouldn’t be trusted.

“Good, because we’re going in now.”

And that was that, because the door was now open and she was being dragged into the office room where their father and another boy with large bags under his eyes stared at them. Damian puffed up his chest and feathers letting his strong, big, and brilliant wings rise into the air.

“Father, this is your daughter, my twin, Marinette Erebus Al Ghul-Wayne.”

They both stared at her in shock and Marinette slowly and cautiously raised her despicable black wings into the air. Both stared at them in awe before looking back at her, but she didn’t meet their eyes. She didn’t want to see the disgust and hatred in their eyes.

After a few moments she looked up and saw their wings greeting hers like Dick’s had. Their father’s wings were a mix of black and dark grey alternating the color in each row of feathers. The other boy’s were black at the top and slowly turned to red at the bottom. But they were welcoming her openly, so that must mean something! Well, it was time to get to know her father, she guessed.

298 notes · View notes

nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | lila salt, so much salt

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life.

w.c | 8.1k

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass.

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it.

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?”

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess...

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared.

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.”

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child.

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.”

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate?

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain.

Was it...?

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps.

Perhaps it was possible.

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise.

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?”

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?”

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?”

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily.

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks.

No.

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again.

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead.

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them.

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!”

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines.

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?”

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.”

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for.

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support.

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl.

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,).

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything.

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed.

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one.

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on.

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.”

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one.

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart.

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done.

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks.

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation.

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself.

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill.

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers?

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!”

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.”

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter.

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?”

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen.

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face.

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was.

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.”

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.”

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery.

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being.

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had.

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist.

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white.

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...?

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.”

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom.

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?”

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string.

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done.

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.”

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone.

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!”

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her...

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on.

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...”

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?”

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.”

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...”

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?”

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word.

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.”

A collective choir of groans rounded the class.

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?”

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely?

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed.

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?”

“... No.”

“...”

“... Maybe.”

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.”

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.”

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?”

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.”

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression.

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?”

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?”

This elicited another round of groans.

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally.

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery.

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam!

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled.

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette?

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right?

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point.

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft.

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other?

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.”

Alya was silent.

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes.

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?”

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally.

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates.

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job.

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.”

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom.

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?”

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.”

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know...

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.”

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.”

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row.

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.”

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him.

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?”

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered.

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.”

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in.

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled.

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea.

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?”

The class agreed, nodding along.

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president.

This is your problem now.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?”

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?”

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly.

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.”

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?”

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile.

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—”

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.”

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’.

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?”

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice.

“Determination was always one of your good traits.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there.

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations.

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond.

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come.

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet.

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars.

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write...

#ml salt #ml saltfic #saltfic #lila salt #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien salt #miraculous ladybug #alya salt #[ris writes]—✧

1K notes · View notes

officialscaramouche · 3 years

Note

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

#writing #Gorou #Gorou x reader #angst #fluff #oneshot #a stupid capricorn

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 3 years

Text

The coffee and the cup (Jeong Yunho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: You bet your ass this was inspired by the pottery video. I was also inspired by a lot of ceramics artists I follow on instagram and thought this was fun.

This is a feel good story, no bad things, just good. Just wanted a feel good thing.

Tags: Potter! Yunho x Café owner reader!, Fem! reader, a lot of pining and sweet glances, coffee, a freshly starting relationship, love confessions, Hongjoong that likes to judge

Smut tags: Very sweet, gentle, soft dom! Yunho, marking, oral (female receiving), Fingering (female receiving), scratching, Praise, teasing, Unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all)

Word count: 8046 (I don’t do short stories)

There was something utterly comforting about the feeling a café could give you. It was something that you had always enjoyed, from being in middle school, getting cookies and chocolate milk before school, to high school and college where you did all day study sessions, cafe’s had become a safe haven for you. Therefore it was only natural that you had grown up with a dream of starting your own.

With the little money you had managed to save up and the help from your family, your cafe had become a reality. A reality that you never thought would happen. It was even more surreal as you unpacked your first groceries and placed them in the pantry and refrigerator, looking around your place. Your place.

It was small, with only two, two persons tables indoor and two outdoors, it was more a “grab a drink and go” type of place and it was perfect for you. It was seated in a small street, filled with small locally owned businesses and what better way to introduce yourself, than to bake.

A classic lemon blueberry muffin was the taste of coming home, the taste you wanted to sell at your store, a taste you wanted to give your fellow shop owners. You wanted people to feel comforted at your place, so you made something comforting with a little twist, so that everybody could see what type of person you were. Baking was your second love to coffee, so you went to work making around 30 muffins. The delicious smell filling your store and placing a smile on your face. Nothing could drag your day down, not that day.

Once the muffins had cooled enough from coming out of the oven, you packaged them carefully and placed them all in a little wicker basket, setting off to say hi to your neighbors. Starting with the little music instrument store right next door. The owner wasn’t what you expected at all, young, well dressed with one painted nail on each hand, going by the name Hongjoong. He greeted you with an amazing smile, wondering how he could help you.

“Welcome! Can I help you find anything?” He asked and you couldn’t help but beam a smile back at him. “No believe me you wouldn’t want me playing any instruments. I bought the café next door and wanted to introduce myself!” You said raising your basket to show him. “Oh! Welcome to the neighborhood!” He shook your free hand, smiling at you brightly. “So you’re going to be providing us caffeine from now on. I greatly appreciate it.” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh. It’s nice that people were missing a café here, gave you hope that you would do well.

You grabbed one package of muffins and placed them on his counter. “I hope you like lemon blueberry muffins. I made them from scratch and well they’re my personal favorite.” You explained and he tore into the packaging quickly. “I’m partial to anything made with bread.” He said, pulling apart a muffin and popping a piece into his mouth. “Oh, everyone around here is going to love these. You should head to Wooyoung’s restaurant down the street, Yeosang’s skate shop, Oh and Yunho’s little store next door. He might eat you out of house and home but oh boy he might become your best customer. These are delicious.” He complimented and you felt a sigh of relief. No matter how many people tried your food and drinks, you still got anxious when it came to their opinions. “I’ll head there now. Would be nice to have a customer before we even open.” You said softly and Hongjoong nodded. “He’s loyal too. If he likes what you have, he’ll never go anywhere else.” He added, making you laugh.

The sound of the door opening behind you made you glance in that direction, seeing a teenage boy looking around the instruments. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” You said, heading for the door. “Thank you again for the muffins and if you ever need any help with anything, don’t be stranger.” Hongjoong told you, making you feel all warm in your chest. He was incredibly kind, you could tell from the way he carried himself. “I won’t. Have a good day!” You said, waving as you exited his store.

It was an incredibly good day out, sun brightly shining down on you as you walked to the little shop next to the music store. The bell signaled that you entered the building, but there was no one in sight. You stood by the door a moment, not wanting to overstep boundaries even if it was a store to shop in. Not only for that reason though, you were scared to knock something over and break it.

The store was filled with shelves lining the bright yellow painted walls, on those shelves were a bunch of clay made works. From little figurines to beautifully sculpted plates, vases and mugs coated with bright paint. It was all so colorfull and bright, making a large smile pull over your lips.

However, no one came to the front so you remained still another moment before calling out. “Hello?” You asked, holding on to your basket and leaning forward to see if you could spot anyone. “Hello?” You asked again, not really expecting a response but wanting to make sure.

“Come on to the back, I can’t open the door back here because my hands are really dirty!” A voice called out and spotted the door that muffled it. You maneuvered yourself carefully to not knock things over as you made your way to the door, spotting a few mugs and plates you wouldn’t mind adding to the café’s collection on your way. You stood in front of the door not quite knowing what to expect when you opened the door, but you did it anyways.

It lead to a little studio, with big windows in the back and more shelves lining the room. In the middle sat a pottery wheel with what looked like a half finished vase resting on it. But what was really eye catching, was the man washing his hands by the sink in the corner.

He was tall, with long legs, dark hair and broad shoulders. Wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had clay stains all over them. Then he turned around, finally exposing his face to you and you seemingly felt your knees get weak. Never in your life had you seen eyes like his, so big and full of emotion. It only made the stripe of dried clay on his cheek seem even cuter.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked, drying his hands before walking towards you. Lifting your basket, you had a hard time finding words for a moment as he smiled at you. “I- uh- Hongjoong next door sent me over. I bought the café 2 doors down and wanted to introduce myself.” You explained, watching his smile get even bigger. You quickly stuck your hand out to his and he looked down at it, taking it gently. “I’m Y/N.” You said, really taking note of the way his eyes sparkled. “I’m Yunho.”

Now Yunho knew it wasn’t really all that common for people his age to make a living off of pottery and art. But he saw that as a challenge, a challenge he took head on and had managed to do it. It was his passion, it was what he was good at and well, the looks of surprise on people’s faces when they asked him what he did for a living was an added plus.

Now he hadn’t been expecting any visitors that day so he was taking the time to create a vase he had been thinking about making. But he wasn’t mad at the interuption at all, especially not one in such cute packaging. Your yellow sundress was inviting, your pink cheeks even more so and not to mention the wicker basket with baked goods. You looked like the angel of his own personal heaven.

“I made muffins, they’re lemon blueberry.” You said, pulling the two packaged muffins out of the basket and handing them to him. You were feeling incredibly shy suddenly, even though the man was radiating nothing but a positive energy. “Oh! You said Hongjoong sent you?” Yunho asked, taking the packaging. You nodded at his words and he let out a hearty laugh. “He knows my kryptonite, baked goods.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words as he took one more step closer to you.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are you making?” You asked, gesturing to the pottery wheel. Yunho’s eyes widened at your interest before moving back towards the wheel. “I was asked to make a vase specifically for calla lillies. The design needed to be ‘unique’ according to the client.” He laughed and you took a step closer to look at the clay better. Unique was definitely an accurate description for it, but beautiful none the less. “It’s really pretty.” You said and looked back at him. He was watching your response to his work, finding it endearing how focussed you were on it.

“I have something for you.” Yunho said quickly, wanting to welcome you to neighborhood properly. He gestured for you to follow him back to the front of the shop as he scanned his shelves for something. “Something for me?” You asked, following him as looked around. “Yes, something for you. To welcome you to the neighborhood.” He said sounding incredibly cheerful which made butterflies fill your stomach.

It was funny how Yunho had taken a few looks at you and instantly had a piece of his in mind to gift you. It just seemed like it suited you, with your bright choice in muffin flavors and the sunny aura that you had radiated to him. It was just an obvious choice to him.

“There they are.” He said, pulling 2 mugs from the back of a shelf. They were made for a large cup of coffee, with sunflowers molded onto them and painted. They were very pretty and something you most definitely would have picked out for yourself. He quickly shuffled to his counter, wrapping them with paper for protection and placing them in a little bag. Yunho was a little scatterbrained, self admittedly, but it was only natural to get a little extra nervous when there was a pretty girl in front of him.

“I hope these get put to good use when the café opens.” He said, as he wrote something on a card and slipped it into the bag. You caught a glimpse of his handwriting, noting how messy and cute it was before looking away again. “I’ll definitely put them to good use. I’ll make sure to serve my first cup of coffee in one.” You promised and Yunho could feel his ears burning red. “Good.” He said softly, sliding the bag in your direction. “The shop opens in 2 days, I would enjoy it if you stopped by.” You said softly as you grabbed the bag and placed it in your basket. “I’ll be there for sure.” He said, simply standing and looking at you. You admittedly were doing the same, finding yourself getting absolutely lost in those eyes before tearing yourself away. “I have a few more stops to make-” You started, walking towards the door because you were embarrassed for staring.

“I really hope you enjoy those muffins.” You finished, placing your hand on the door handle and looking back at him one more time. “I most definitely will.” Yunho smiled, watching you leave his shop before leaning down and pressing his forehead against the counter. He hadn’t had a rush from someone in a long time, you were like a shot of caffeine and he had you on his mind for the rest of the day.

You had brought around the rest of your muffins before coming back to your shop. It was now late in the afternoon and the had calmed down quite a bit. You had discovered that your new little neighborhood was close, tight knit. Everyone seemed to know eachother and something about that was quite comforting. Wooyoung’s resaurant was incredibly home-y with delicious food (he had forced you to sit down and enjoy some food) and Yeosang’s skate shop was just adorable with a lot of custom boards there and they all seemed to know eachother quite well. It was helping you realise you had chosen the right spot, you needed the support.

Sitting down at a table, you placed your basket down as well. The whole afternoon you had been curious about what Yunho had written down on the card. It was on your mind the whole time and well so was he. He was quite magnetic, awkward and just very cute, you really couldn’t help it.

Pulling the mugs from the bag, you unwrapped them carefully so that you can take in the details more. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to before, you were entirely too focussed on something or rather someone else. You held one of the mugs in your hand, looking it over and running your fingers over the smooth ridges. It was all so incredibly detailed and such a sweet gift.

You put the mug down and pulled the card from the bag. It was just simple cardstock with no design on it, only his writing and you felt the butterflies bubble back up as you read.

“I thought it was a good day because of the weather, but I guess it was because you were in the neighborhood. I can’t wait to stop by your café when it opens, but I would love it even more if you would go on a date with me, maybe let me teach you how to sculpt. I’ll leave my number for you.

It was nice meeting you, sunshine.

- Yunho

P.S the mugs are handwash only”

You laughed at the last sentence holding the letter to your chest as you did so. A date with Yunho, it was all so sweet. Not to mention his nickname for you had you swooning.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you placed the mugs on the counter and put the card by your store’s phone. It was too soon to call right away, but you were definitely going to call. There was no doubt about that, you could feel a connection with him instantly and you couldn’t help but mentally thank Hongjoong for that.

Time had seemingly slipped away from you after that day. You had been incredibly busy the day after, getting everything ready and prepared for your grand opening. Baking what you could, grinding coffee beans and preparing mugs, plates and other items. You weren’t expecting a huge turnout or anything... but it never hurt to be prepared.

But that coupled with your anxiety for doing well, you seemingly forgot about Yunho’s number that was just waiting to be called by your phone. It was purely accidental that it happened, that it had all slipped your mind.

But you were quickly reminded of it when he stood in front of you, after you had given one of your first customers their order of coffee and an oatmeal cookie. There he was, standing in front of you at 10 a.m, wearing a lightly striped button down tucked into black jeans. Considerably more dressed up than the last time you had seen him, however this image of him made you think of his number and you panicked.

“Oh my god Yunho, I forgot to call.” You said, clasping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. You felt absolutely horrible at the realization however Yunho could only laugh. “It’s alright, it’s alright sunshine. I figured you were busy with the opening and everything so I didn’t take it to heart.” He smiled at you and you pouted. “I feel really bad. What can I do to make it up to you?” You asked, walking around your little counter because from what you could tell, there were no more customers left to serve aside from him in the café.

Your response was just so cute to him, he didn’t think you owed him anything at all. He gave you his number and it was your choice to call him or not. However he still would have really like that date, especially seeing you again. You were wearing a simple orange, shin length, floral skirt with a black t-shirt tucked into it and an apron fastened around your waist. You were... sunny to him.

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you don’t owe me anything. But I would still like to know if you would like to go on a date with me?” He asked and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at his question. “Oh and I would love another lemon blueberry muffin. I ate both alarmingly fast the other day.” He added on quickly, laughing as he did so. He didn’t want you to feel pressure, at all. Yunho wanted you to go out with him because you wanted too, not anything else.

You looked down to the ground in attempts to hide the blush on your cheeks, before pulling yourself together and finally looking up into his eyes. “I can definitely do a date and I can also definitely do a muffin.” You said and quickly disappeared behind your counter again. Yunho watched with adoration as you did, incredibly happy but trying to keep things cool.

“Here is your muffin... would you like anything else?” You asked, handing him the packaged treat and his fingers grazed yours. “No, I got what I came for.” Yunho said and reached for his wallet. “No, it’s on the house.” You stopped him and he looked at you, opening his mouth to say something. “I know you said I don’t owe you anything but, just take it. For my own sake.” You explained and he bit down on his lip to keep his smile to a minimum. “Thank you.” He said softly, back away from the counter because how much he was beaming.

“Call me to set up the date tonight? Okay?” He said, now leaning in the open door of the café. “I will. I definitely will this time.” You said and he nodded, walking away and letting himself smile fully.

Your first day was incredibly good, a total of almost 50 customers which really wasn’t much but still good and a date settled with an absolutely beautiful man. It was just a good day, you smelled like coffee when you got home and there was nothing better than that. Life was coming together.

He had set things up in such a specific way, he wanted this to be perfect. Something about you drew Yunho in so much, he didn’t want to mess this date up at all. It meant a lot to him.

So when you showed up to his store again, ready for your date, he had his heart in his throat. He had told you to wear something you wouldn’t mind that got dirty and well you listened, showing up in overall you deemed your “paint overalls” the ones you would wear while painting your house and some beat up Converse sneakers. Yunho was wearing the same clothes from the day you had first met and waiting inside his store when you appeared at the door.

“You look very cute.” Yunho commented, the second you entered the building and your cheeks flushed red. “I’m used to people starting conversations by saying hello.” You said, leaning onto the counter he was stood behind. He mimiced your actions, face getting closer to yours. “Hello. You look very cute.” He teased and you looked down to avoid his gaze with a soft smile. “Anyways, what are we doing today?” You asked, standing back up fully and slipping your hands into your pockets.

“Well, do you need anything else for your shop?” Yunho asked and you took a moment to think. “I was thinking about stopping by for some small, single flower vases. To see if you even had anything like that. Why?” You asked and he pushed himself off the counter.

Now if you had said no, he would have sat you down to make something random just to have fun. But now he was going to give you something you could absolutely make use of and hopefully something to remind you of him.

“I figured I could teach how to make them, something you want exactly.” Yunho said, scratching the back of his head because he was now completely questioning his own idea. “Oh!!! I would absolutely love that!” You said, needing to contain your excitement. Something about a date like this really touched your heart and even if this wouldn’t go anywhere, you know you would remember it for the rest of your life.

He let out a sigh of relief before leading you to his studio, where he had set up a picnic blanket on the floor next to the large windows with a basket filled with treats. You couldn’t help but place your hand on your chest, your heart pounding because of how sweet he was.

“Jeong Yunho, I do believe you are a romantic.” You said, gesturing to the blanket and he had to hold back a laugh. “Maybe just a little bit... I just thought we could talk a bit while the clay is in the kiln.” He explained, well rambled more. He was absolutely making your heart melt and there was no doubt about it.

He sat you down behind the wheel after preparing everything for you, the damp clay sitting on top of the wheel. You looked up at him, questioning what to do because this was completely foreign territory to you. “Start spinning the wheel and wet your hands in that bowl and just start feeling around the clay a bit. Get a feel of what you’re doing.” He said, crouching down by your side. You followed his instructions, under his carefull gaze.

Yunho had guided your hands carefully from next to you, until you had accidentally placed way too much pressure on the clay and denting the form. “Oh, uhh let me see if I can fix that.” Yunho said, seeing how you struggled to get it back the way it was. You stood and he took your seat, his height when sitting coming up to your shoulders. He was mesmerizing to watch as he sculpted, eyes focussed on the wheel and lips kind of pursed. He was just so pretty.

“I think I get it.” You said and he looked at you in confusion. “This suits you, sitting here behind the pottery wheel, working with your hands. It really suits you. You’re completely in your element. It’s really beautiful to see.” You explained further and he allowed the wheel to slow down, to look up at you.

You didn’t even realise how close you were until you felt his breath fan over your lips and you suddenly felt excitement in your chest. So you made a split second decision, you made a judgement call.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his very soft looking, plump lips. Yunho was caught off guard, not having expected that at all but not complaining either. In the few hours you had maybe spent together, there was something completely undeniable there.

Now admittedly, the kiss was too long for it to be a peck and that was because Yunho could’ve sworn he tasted strawberry on your lips. It left him wanting more, so he deepened the kiss and for a moment you forgot your hands were covered in wet clay. You cupped his face, only for him to laugh against your lips and you realised your mistake.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” You said, pulling away and looking at your hand prints on his cheeks. Yunho couldn’t stop laughing, maybe because of how ridiculously funny the situation was or maybe because of the pure joy he was feeling. “I got too caught up - I- I- completely forgot my hands were-.” You explained in frustration, really wanting to cover your face in embarrassment but deciding against it with better judgement.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Can you just maybe wash your hands and then hand me that washcloth by the sink?” He asked and you did as told quickly bringing him the damp cloth to help him get your marks off of him. His cheeks and ears were flushed the whole time as you did so, eyes following your movements and reading the concern on your face. “It’s really okay.” Yunho laughed, comforting you a little more but you couldn’t help but stay embarrassed. “It’s definitely a story to tell. Not my best first kiss admittedly.” You said and pushed your hair out of your face, not your brightest moment most definitely.

“I mean, I could act like it didn’t happen. Or we could just have a do over?” Yunho suggested, placing the cloth down on the counter and looking at you with a cheeky smile. He just wanted to make sure it was really strawberry he was tasting on your lips. “A do-over?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him.

His hands came up to your waist, pulling you a tad closer by the belt loops of your overalls before leaning down to your level again. You cupped his face, allowing your thumbs to run over the smooth skin of his cheeks and smilled to yourself. “Oh sunshine, you’re just the cutest.” He said softly and closed the space inbetween you too. This was it, this was what it was supposed to feel like. Butterflies flying around your stomach and your heart pounding in your chest because of how badly you wanted to kiss someone. This was right.

Your hands moved from his cheeks to his hair as he deepened the kiss, tasting that sweet strawberry flavor again and making a mental note to ask you about it later. His hands held your waist gently, not moving in any way in fear of overstepping his boundaries.

Pulling away again, this time with a considerable less amount of embarrassment, you placed your hands on his chest gently. “You see, that’s what I was trying to do.” You said softly, toying with the fabric of his shirt. “I figured.” He said in response, letting eachother go in the process. “Your lips taste like strawberries, as if you couldn’t get any more sweet.” Yunho commented, just looking at you with mild disbelief as you sat behind the pottery wheel again. You knew exactly why you tasted that way, you were experimenting with strawberry creme for on top of cupcakes and had to taste test it.

“Come by the café some more and I’ll show you why.” You smiled cheekily and started to spin the wheel again, wanting to finish your vase. “Hmm, sounds good. It sounds like another date.”

“That’ll be 7.50.” You said cheerily before going to pour her coffee and grab her 2 slices of coffee cake. You handed her, her items and waved her out of the store before letting out a sigh. There was a dip in how busy it was and you had a moment to relax.

“I just noticed that your customer service voice is the same as your regular voice.” Hongjoong said from the table closest to your counter. He had been coming in on his breaks to hang out and talk and well this was one of those times. “Is it? I never noticed.” You asked with a raised brow, Hongjoong shook his head at you. “I can’t believe your just genuinely that sweet.” He commented and went back to looking on his phone.

“Of course Y/N’s that sweet.” Yunho’s voice came in from behind you, knowing he came in through the back. His hands moved to your hips from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. “They even smell cake 90% of the time.” He added on before kissing your cheek. This earned a blush from you and a sigh coupled with an eyeroll from Hongjoong.

“Disgustingly cute.” Hongjoong grumbled, standing from his seat and grabbing his coffee. “I’ll be taking this to go.” He added, leaving your cafe to give you both a shred of privacy.

Laughing, you turned around in Yunho’s arm and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hi.” You said softly, toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. A few months in and you were incredibly close, ridiculously in love. The whole neighborhood knew, the whole neighborhood thought it was disgustingly cute and well you were incredibly happy.

“Hi.” He said back, leaning you backwards to press you against your counter. He had been missing you all day, all week more like. With the school breaks on top of general vacation days, business had been going quite well. But that also meant a little less time together. Which was alright, that was healthy but God Yunho was missing you.

He kissed your cheek, moving his lips over your skin lightly to pay you some special attention because there was no one in the cafe anyways and there was just something about getting you so flustered.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, taking a deep breath as his lips moved over your neck and down to the neckline of your dress. “When can I get you alone for more than 5 minutes?” Yunho asked, pulling his lips away from you again. He could tell you were breathing a little heavier and your cheeks were flushed, exactly what he wanted.

“I think I have more than 5 minutes of alone time after work.” You explained, only for his lips to find the base of your neck again. His hands were now massaging your sides, bunching up your dress slightly when the bell of your door rang.

“I forgot my phone and I’m glad I saw this so that I can leave a bad review on yelp.” Hongjoong said and you both pulled away from eachother quite quickly. “Come by the shop after you close up okay sunshine?” Yunho said, trying to hide his embarrassment as Hongjoong gave him a dirty look.

“I will.” You said, quickly pecking his lips one more time before he exited your shop. You were a total shade of pink because of the way Hongjoong was looking at you. “Don’t say anything.” You said, pointing your finger in his direction the second Yunho left. He started laughing, grabbing his phone from the table. “You two are so in love it’s disgusting. Get married already, have coffee filled, artsy babies.” He teased and you shook your head. “It seems like you two were half way there already, wonder what would’ve happened if I didn’t walk in.” He added and you turned away, suddenly feeling the need to keep your hands busy.

“Probably nothing, we haven’t gone that far. Doubt it would’ve happened in broad daylight, in an open café.” You said, now wiping down a fully clean counter to get out of your own mind. You wanted to take that next step with Yunho and he seemingly wanted to take that step too.

So you made your way over to his shop after closing, checking the way you looked in the reflection on the windows before entering. You weren’t nervous, at all actually. Everything felt certain with him and so did this. You instantly walked to studio portion of his shop, anticipation in your chest as you pushed the door open.

“Hey you closed early.” Yunho said as he cleaned his counter by the sink. “I did. Thought maybe we could stretch those 5 minutes into a few hours.” You said softly, walking behind him to hug him from behind. You missed him the last few days too, you were definitely realising it while holding him. “You can’t just kiss me like that in the middle of the day and leave.” You mumbled against him as his hands found your, drawing shapes into your skin with his fingers.

“Sorry about the inconvenience.” He chuckled and pulled you to stand in front of him, wedging you between him and the counter. “Big inconvenience. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You leaned back onto the counter as Yunho took a step forward. His thigh, wedging between your legs as he did so. He was completely hovering over you, hands finding purchase on your hips. “Maybe that’s what I wanted.” His voice was a tone lower than normal, making your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him close because you really couldn’t wait much longer and kissed him. Yunho loved it when he brought you to that point because he found it oh so endearing when you needed him so badly.

Using his hands, he lifted you up onto the counter fully making your dress bunch up slightly. His hands moved down to the newly exposed flesh of your thighs as his tongue slipped into your mouth. This, this was what drove him insane because everytime he kissed your lips you tasted so sweet.

You tugged his hair as his grip on you tightened, making him groan against your lips. “How do you do it, you always taste so sweet?” He asked with his forehead pressed against yours. You leaned forward a little, making your core come into contact with his denim clad thigh and you whimpered before answering him. “That’s for me to know and you to be amazed by.” Shaking his head at your answer, he pressed his lips to yours again absolutely not caring if it was sloppy or not.

He continued to pull your hips down, making your core rub over his thigh and you couldn’t help but pull his hair harshly. This made him nip down on your bottom lip before moving his hands to hike up the skirt of your dress. He was absolutely obsessed with how soft your skin was in his hands every new inch that was revealed, didn’t disappoint.

Moving his lips down your neck again, he made sure to nip down on your skin and making you gasp. Yunho was going with intent to leave marks, there was just something that made him compelled to do so. His hands moved to your waist to drag you closer to edge of the counter and closer to him. His fingertips finding the hem of your panties to toy with them, making heat pool between your legs even more.

His mouth stopped at the neckline of your dress, before he looked up at you. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging on your dress slightly. The little question making heat rise to your cheeks. “Yes, you can.” You answered softly, helping him lift the fabric off of your body. You were about to throw your dress to the side when took it from you, folding it before laying it down gently on a chair. You sat, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him because the action made your heart flutter.

“Don’t want your dress to get dirty.” He said, turning back around to look at you. He could feel his heart stop a moment, you were incredibly just so incredibly beautiful to him. The dim lit room, coupled with your slightly swollen lips, pink cheeks and the fact that you were sitting there in nothing but your underwear, it was driving him insane.

“God you look...” Yunho started, walking back to you to wrap his arms around your bare waist. You curled his hair between your fingers, looking him the eyes. “Absolutely beautiful.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, making your whole body fill with warmth as he looked at you. You wrapped your legs around him, to pull him even closer to you. “I’m feeling a little self conscious here. Can you maybe?” You didn’t finish your sentence, just tugging on his shirt in hopes he’d get the message. He pulled it off of him and simply threw it on the ground, not giving it the same care he gave your dress. “I don’t care if that gets dirty.” He said before kissing your lips quickly and sinking down to his knees.

Eye level with your core, he traced his fingers over your clothed slit slowly, looking at you to see your response. Your eyes were shut up and your lips were agape, body tensing as his finger grazed your clit. That was enough for him to hook his fingers into the lace, tugging your panties down your legs. You brought your hand to your face, taking your thumb between your teeth as Yunho pulled your legs over his shoulders.

He feathered kisses over your thighs, squeezing them as he did so and inching closer and closer to where you needed him. “You’re going to tease me when I’ve already been thinking about you all day?” You asked, voice muffled by your own hand. He looked up at you again, eyes darker and blinking at you. “Yes, because it seems to be working.” He answered, dragging his fingers over your slit. “You’re so wet, Sunshine.” He finished, kissing your clit lightly and your hips bucked for more friction.

He looked up at you one more time, taking a mental image of you with your finger caught between your teeth just staring at him before kissing you again. Allowing his tongue to move over your folds and tasting you. You attempted to clamp your legs shut at the sensation only for him to hold them open, not allowing you to go anywhere as he ate you out. Lips wrapping around your clit and making you moan out loud. Your hand moved to grip his hair, just wanting him even closer to you because fuck... he was making you feel so good.

“Yunho-” You moaned, making his fingertips dig further into your thighs. “Sunshine, you even taste sweet.” He commented, kissing your thighs again as you tugged on his hair for more. “Baby please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly pouting as you did so because you were oh so close to cumming.

He stood back up, face now level with yours again and you whined. “Relax.” He said softly, hand trailing down your body before cupping your core. His finger teased your hole while the other hand cupped your face, slipping a finger into and watching every expression as he did so. Yunho thrust his fingers into you harshly as your mouth fell open again. Eyes locked onto Yunho’s as he drew you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your fingers clawed at his arms as the coil in your stomach tightened. “Yunho, please.” You whined, feeling him insert another finger and stretching you out.

He sped up his pace, feeling you tighten around his fingers and the scratching down his arms get harder. “Come on, cum for me sunshine.” He pressed his forehead against yours as you let out a small scream that faded into a whine. The coil bursting as his fingers continued thrusting into you. Your face burried into his neck as you held onto him, needing something to brace yourself with.

He watched you slump into his arms, using his hand that was holding your face to now stroke your hair. “You’re alright.” He cooed, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his hardon pressing against his jeans. You kept your face in his neck as your hands moved from his arms down his chest and torso. Trailing down the faint outline of abs as your hands went down, resting on the button of his jeans as you finally looked at him again.

“I love you.” You said softly, as if it was a secret and you were in a crowded room. Your fingers undid his jeans, not waiting on a response from him. If he wasn’t there yet, he wasn’t there.

“Hey.” He cupped your face again, making your focus now be solely on him. You hardly gave him time to respond to your confession before you went undo his jeans, he needed you to focus on what he was going to say because he could tell you were scared for his answer.

“Relax, Sunshine. I love you too.” He said, taking in the way your eyes widened at his words. “I- I- can I?” You stuttered, gesturing to his jeans. “Yes, yes you can.” He laughed, continuing to cup your face as you undid his jeans and dragged the zipper down. He hummed as your fingers grazed his hard on, gripping your face a little tighter making you smile.

“Now who’s teasing?” He asked you and you giggled, only for him to shake his head. He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his jeans so that he could pull them down, together with his briefs. “Can’t deal with what you dish out?” You asked and he shook his head, placing his hand next to your hips on the counter. “Not nearly as well.” He admitted and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist to pull him against you.

His free hand gripped the base of his cock as he rubbed it over your folds. You held the back of his neck, watching his actions before he slipped into you slowly. Your nails dug into his skin, making goosebumps coat his skin as he sheathed himself into you fully. The whimper you let out of was like music to his ears and the way you felt wrapped around him was better than he dreamed of.

Yunho gave you a moment to adjust before wrapping his arms around your waist and almost picking you up off of the counter. It caught you by surprise making you hold onto him even tighter. “Fuck Yunho.” You hummed, as he started thrusting into you, using the leverage he had gotten from holding you. His pace picked up, fucking into you slowly as your sounds filled his studio.

“You feel so good, Sunshine.” He praised, a low moan leaving his mouth afterwards as you scratched down his back. He thrusted a bit harder and faster, needing a taste of that sweet release because he too had been thinking about you all day.

“Right there-” You choked out as he hit your sweet spot, the heels of your feet digging into his thighs. He pressed his face into your neck, placing kisses everywhere he could reach and sucking even more marks into your skin. He continued actions, making you tighten around him very quickly. He let go of your waist to place one of his hands by your side on the counter and the other down to rub your clit, giving him leverage to bring you both to the edge quickly. Your hands moved to his arms, scratching down them as well just adding to the pleasure he was going through.

“Sunshine, I’m really close.” He moaned out, hips staggering slightly as he continuously rubbed your clit. You pet his hair, drawing his attention back to your face and that was it for him. You looked oh so fucked out and the way you were holding on to him, it was enough to send him over the edge. His hips stopped as he came inside of you, head drooping and beautiful loud moans leaving him as he did so. However, his fingers never stopped circling your clit and threw you over the edge with him.

He was a mess, moaning at the feeling of you contracting around him and the overstimulation of it. The way you felt holding on to him, stroking his skin as you both calmed down. He was now holding you close against his chest, still resting inside you for a moment as you caught your breaths.

“I meant it you know, when I said I love you back.” Yunho’s voice was soft spoken as he pet your hair. “I know.” You said as you traced over his arm. “Good, just wanted to make sure you knew I didn’t just say it because we were having sex.” He explained, body leaving yours and making you sigh.

“I know I definitely didn’t just say it because of that.” You said as he handed you back your underwear. “That’s good.” He smiled at you that goofy smile, eyes filled with love. You shook your head, before grabbing his face gently and pulling him for another quick kiss. You just really wanted him to know that you meant it.

“Come on, let’s go to my place. Maybe watch a movie, eat dinner, have round 2. All of the options are allowed.” He said laughing before handing you your dress, as you rolled your eyes at his words.

“Ah Sunshine, I love you to bits.”

“The back of Yunho’s neck looks like he’s been mauled by a tiger, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that?” Hongjoong asked as he entered Yunho’s shop the next day. He had to run errands and asked you to watch his shop for a moment, so there you were sitting behind his counter and painting a piece of pottery you had helped him make not to long before.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, needing to bite on your lips to contain your smile as you continued to paint the clay. “Uh-huh, tell that to those hickies all over your neck.” He commented and you looked at him. “Do you ever spend time in your own store?” You asked in frustration and he started laughing, pointing at you. “I knew it!” He laughed and you shook your head. “Okay, okay. Shut up about it.” You hid your face in your hands, feeling how beat red you were.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing.” Hongjoong joked, walking around the shelves of pottery. No one else was in the shop, so the conversation wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “But it was good though? No hiccups, no awkward situations?” He asked and you could only smile at the thought of it all. “No, nothing awkward.” You said and he stood in front of the counter again.

“I told him I love him for the first time.” You added quickly, simply going back to painting. “Wait, you did? For the first time? It took you both that long?” Admittedly Hongjoong wasn’t wrong, but you had felt love for him a long time ago. There just wasn’t a desire to vocalize it just yet, on either end. “I mean it was obvious that you too loved eachother, I’m just surprised it took you so long to say it.” Hongjoong explained and you nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But sometimes it’s better to just wait until there’s that moment. That perfect moment to say it.” Last night was most definitely that moment for you.

The store bell made you both redirect your attention to the door. Only for Yunho to pop his head in and look at you. “I was half way to the store when I realised that I didn’t ask you needed anything.” He said, smiling at you with stars in his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.” You smiled back as Hongjoong watched the interaction. “I could’ve, but I would rather just walk back and see you instead.” He explained and Hongjoong laughed.

“You two, you two are something else.” Hongjoong commented and Yunho shook his head. “But you don’t need anything?” He asked and you shook your head. “No, I got all I need.” You said and he nodded before going to leave again. “I love you, Sunshine.” He said quickly, shutting the door behind him. “I love you too.” You said smiling, knowing he couldn’t hear you anymore but still taking the time to do it. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at you and opened his mouth to say something.

“As disgusting as you two are, how cute you are together makes up for it.”

A/N: Feedback is kind!

I’m not completely satisfied with the ending but I still like this story alot. Sometimes you just need some happy stories. I hope you guys enjoy!

#yunho #yunho smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez reaction

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wkemeup · 3 years

Text

Sunrise (4)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.2k warnings: symptoms of depression, PTSD, anxiety, some really sweet moments to balance it out, more book recs 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“You’re staring at the doors again, sweetie.”

Chin resting on your hands, arms folded out on the countertop of the library’s front desk, you tore your eyes away from the entrance to find Mrs. Jefferson peering over at you from over the bridge of her glasses. She smirked as she returned to her book, knowing she’d caught you in the act.

“Have patience,” she said simply.

“Book club is tomorrow and—” you sighed, a heaviness returning to your body as you slumped back against the counter, stare drifting back to the doors at the entrance. The sun was beaming outside, reflecting in beautiful rays as it illuminated the walkway and touched over old oak and the colorful bindings of novels.

You frowned. “I really thought he was going to come.”

“This James Barnes... he’s a soldier, yes? Like my boy?”

You nodded, disappointment burning like a lump in your throat, though you swallowed it back. “A Sergeant. Sam said he came home a little under a year ago.”

“Then he’ll come,” Mrs. Jefferson pressed confidently, sliding her glasses up her nose, the chain of purple beads clicking against the gem stones on her sweater. “Boys like that don’t break their word. Even if he is a bit of a hesitant one.”

You knew what she meant by that. Hesitant.

No one liked to talk about the dangers of a soldier post-war. It was uncomfortable; the idea that they could still be fighting a battle long beyond the absence of a weapon in their hands and the threat of present danger. Heroes weren’t supposed to have chinks in their armor. They weren’t supposed to crumble and break under the weight of what happened beyond borders and the guilt they carried.

They were supposed to be strong; a symbol of a great country and a willing tribute to place upon a pedestal. It was unacceptable to be a burden, unacceptable to do anything other than seamlessly integrate back into a society that they never really knew to begin with.

It was all a farce; a rigged game set to line the pockets of the rich and exploit everyone else in its path – sent off to fight for a cause no one really understood or believed in. It left behind good men and women to the rubble; Bucky Barnes among them.

Sam hadn’t told you much about Bucky before you met him, but you knew enough to tell that it was a struggle to get him to leave the apartment. He was isolated and quiet and hardly recognizable from the man you’d seen in photos. Only, it wasn’t the lack of his left arm that drew your attention when you first saw him, but the lingering sadness in his eyes.

Sam had a picture hanging in the office that often pulled you in. Bucky stood on his left side, smiling so wide it left lines on his face. He was bright, light as a feather, only weighed down by Steve’s arm slung around his shoulders. You wondered if the man in the photo would have flirted shamelessly with you, if he’d have corny pickup lines or offer to take you dancing. He looked like the sort of man who had girls chasing his tail, a line of heartbreak in his wake. He was beautiful.

It was strange to see him like that, comparing him to the man he was today. Now, it was like a cloud lingered over his head, draining the color from his skin and chipping away at his soul until it dimmed and crumbled and faded away.

But you’d seen glimpses of the man in the photo. He was still beautiful; a little hurt and dragging his feet, but beautiful. His smile wasn’t quite as wide and the cloud was still present, but there was a peak of sunshine peering through. A single ray puncturing over stormy skies, but it was something. He’d laughed and teased and it was more than Sam had known him to do in months. You were determined to see the sun touch his skin again. If only he’d let you guide him there.

“I’m going to go restock on the second level,” you conceded, pushing yourself up from the counter and sauntering over to the cart lined heavy with books.

“Alright sweetie. I’ll be sure to page you when your Sergeant shows up.”

You felt a heat burning in your face at the very idea of ‘your Sergeant’. Mrs. Jefferson chuckled to herself, eyes still down on her book. She waved you off, not giving you a chance to object, even if you could string together a coherent sentence.

***

Bucky couldn’t get out of bed.

He’d been in this predicament hundreds of times before; staring up at the ceiling, wasting the days away as the curtains blocked the light and shielded him from the reminder of another sun daring to rise beyond his window. His energy would be drained and his willingness to so much as brush his teeth was obsolete. He’d known what it felt like to not be able to get out of bed.

This was different.

He had somewhere to be. He actually wanted to get up. He really fucking wanted to.

But the pain in his arm had flared to one of the worst episodes he’d had in months and it rendered him useless; the arm that was both there and not there. He could feel his left hand curl to a fist, could feel the itch on his palm, but when he tried to scratch it, he was only met with thin air, his right hand sinking to the mattress in search of the sensation that didn’t exist.

It was infuriating.

The nerve endings in his shoulder were going haywire. It felt like his arm was being ripped from his body and it took nearly all the energy he had not to let it consume him. He’d even gone as far to bite off a piece of his cheek in an effort to suppress the lump in his throat.

Sam would have frowned at that, spewed him some bullshit about how crying can be therapeutic and Steve would nod his head annoyingly in agreement, but Bucky was tougher than that. He had to be tougher than that. If he allowed himself to unlatch that gate, it would consume him whole. He’d drown.

Hinges squeaked at the front entrance as the door swung open and a pair of heavy footsteps came rushing into the apartment.

“I’m coming, buddy! Hold on!” Sam called, the plastic swish of the grocery bag handing off his arms dropping to the floor. Bucky tried to concentrate on the sound of running water, the bottle of pills shaking in the small orange bottle, and not on the pain threatening to tear him in half.

The door to his bedroom flung open and Sam rushed in with a glass of water and his fist closed around two red capsules. He paused in the frame, a frown pushing down at his mouth, and Bucky could only imagine what he looked like; disheveled, sweating, laying in day old clothes and muddled sheets. His right hand was shaking.

“Alright, help me out, Barnes,” Sam said, setting the glass down on the bedside table. He placed a steady hand on Bucky’s back to help push himself upright. Bucky swung his legs off the side of the bed, finding his balance before Sam placed the pills in his hand.

Bucky threw them back into his mouth, holding his hand out for the glass of water that would come next. It landed in his grip and he gulped down the medication. There was no instant relief with pain like this, but the knowledge it would soon wear off to something manageable was enough.

“Thanks,” he mumbled out, voice tense as he struggled to find it.

“Insurance companies are assholes,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head, though he patted Bucky on the knee. “Cutting off coverage for a fucking vet with no warning like that? Can’t believe you’ve been without this stuff for almost a week. It’s messed up.”

Bucky had come to expect it. He knew something had to go wrong eventually with how things were starting to turn around. He’d actually been looking forward to seeing you at the library and almost went that next day if it wasn’t for the sudden attack on his own body. He'd tried to deal with it on his own, thinking he might sleep it off, but then it became unbearable. Insurance wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have the energy to argue on the phone with them all day. Thankfully, Sam did.

Except now it was a day before the next book club meeting and Bucky didn’t know how he was supposed to face you. Part of him wondered if you'd be disappointed, if maybe you’d steal a glance over the doors and hope that it was him walking through, only to be let down as each day passed by. The other half wondered if you’d care at all.

But he’d seen the way you’d smiled at him, how you’d lit up at the idea of him stopping by.

You’d care.

He wasn’t sure if that hurt worse, seeing as he never showed up.

“You could still go.”

Bucky sighed at Sam’s suggestion. He wasn’t teasing him, wasn’t wearing that shit-eating grin. He was being serious. It was the kind of look that reminded Bucky that under it all, Sam was one of his closest friends, one of the few that stuck around when everything went to shit.

“She’ll want to see you,” Sam continued, nudging Bucky’s side with a soft smile, but Bucky shook his head, unconvinced.

“What am I supposed to say to her, Sam?” Bucky groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “’Sorry I stood you up, but I felt like my hand was being sawed off on an arm I don’t even fucking have?’”

“Why not?” Sam shrugged, earning a glare in response he let roll off his shoulders with ease. “She’d understand, Buck. She knows what comes with the territory here. She’s a lot more familiar with this stuff than you think.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a pang of jealousy burning hot in his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you should ask her why she got involved with the VA in the first place.”

Bucky pressed his lips to a thin line, a silence coming over them. That was an immensely personal question; one akin to someone asking him how he’d lost his arm. He wasn’t sure that was an answer you’d be willing to share.

Sam exhaled a heavy breath, patting Bucky three times on the knee before he stood up. “Let the meds kick in, but promise you’ll try to go, alright?”

Bucky stared up at Sam for a moment before he conceded with a short nod. The pain in his shoulder was starting to lessen, at least. It didn’t feel like his arm was being torn from his body or a knife was plunging into a part of him that didn’t exist anymore. It would likely get back to a place he could deal with within the hour.

“I promise,” Bucky said. “I’ll go.”

***

A brush of warm air filtered in through the vents as Bucky stepped inside the library. It was bigger than he remembered with large stain glass windows on the outer walls, filtering in a colorful sunlight onto the aisles upon aisles of books. At the center, just ahead of the entrance, was a reception desk. Bucky exhaled a tense breath in an attempt to rid himself from the nerves rattling in his veins and made his way to the woman sitting behind the counter.

She was reading quietly in her seat, a pair of glasses on a beaded chain perched at the very tip of her nose. She didn’t look up in his direction until he stood at the edge of the desk, and only then, she caught glance of him over the top of her glasses before a smile rose on her lips.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to meet someone. She, uh, works here. Y/n.”

The woman nodded. She wore the kind of smile on her face Bucky was familiar with. He’d seen it in Sam about a dozen times in the last week; the kind of smile that said ‘I was right.’

“You must be Sergeant Barnes,” she said as she picked up the radio from the desk.

Bucky nodded quickly, glancing over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he felt jittery. He tried not to let the fact that you’d clearly talked to this woman about him throw him completely off his game. If he even had game to begin with…

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied with an even tone. She smirked.

“Y/n,” she called into the radio, “you have a guest at the front desk.”

The woman held up a finger to him though it trembled with age, signaling for him to wait a moment. Bucky nodded, tucking his hand into his pocket as he silently made his way over to the series of chairs lined along the wall.

He gripped his fist tight inside his pocket, trying to ignore the pulsing in his shoulder. It had lessened considerably since Sam brought him his meds, but it hadn’t gone away completely. Showering had taken longer than usual and it took him nearly four minutes just to pull a shirt over his head. His army jacket hung over his shoulders, wrapped in a protective layer, loose sleeve at his side.

“If you’re pulling my chain, Mrs. Jefferson…”

Bucky perked up at the sound of your voice. You were crossing the main entrance from the staircase, half jogging to the counter where the woman, Mrs. Jefferson, was grinning to herself from behind her book.

You draped over the counter, toes barely keeping hold on the tile floors as you attempted to reach for her book, but she snatched it from your grasp just in time. You huffed, sinking back down the floor.

“It’s not funny!” you whined and Bucky almost felt a little guilty for not making his presence known yet, but you were just so cute the way you slumped your shoulders and glanced back at the entrance.

Mrs. Jefferson pointed over to where Bucky had slowly begun to make his way towards you, but you folded your arms over your chest. Bucky cleared his throat when he stood a few paces off your shoulder, but you didn’t seem to hear him.

Mrs. Jefferson caught Bucky’s eye before she turned her attention back to you. “Sweetie, he’s—”

“He’s not coming, okay?” you groaned and Bucky felt a stone drop into his stomach. “I—I thought he would but… I was wrong.”

Bucky parted his lips to speak but suddenly his throat was dry. Mrs. Jefferson’s smile started to fade. Clearly, Bucky wasn’t the only one who heard the disappointment in your voice, the sliver of heartbreak, too. He tried to speak, to call your name, to say something, but he was marbled stone.

“I’m going back to work.”

There wasn’t time to pull his words together before you slammed head first into Bucky’s chest. He stumbled back a few paces, surprised, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” You stilled, taking in who was standing in front of you. “Bucky?”

He pressed out a smile, though his ears were burning red. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No! N-no, you’re totally fine! I didn’t—I didn’t think you were—” You blinked a few times before your eyes darted back at Mrs. Jefferson who only smirked from behind her book, adjusting the glasses on the tip of her nose. You turned back to Bucky, brushing out the hem of your skirt and wrapping the thick layer of a lavender colored cardigan tightly around your waist, almost like a blanket.

You exhaled a nervous breath, a nervous smile lifting into your cheeks. “I’m happy you came.”

“It would have been sooner, I swear,” Bucky replied quickly, watching helplessly as your smile brightened into a laugh. “But, um, my uh—”

He chewed on the edge of his lip. Was he really going to tell you what kept him held up in his room for days on end? Would it bitter the sweet way you looked at him to know that he was a mess under a poorly constructed surface, tied together with string and scotch tape? But you were looking at him so fondly, he wondered if there was anything he could say that could take that away.

“My arm,” he admitted, waiting for a flash of disgust on your face that never came. You softened a bit, but your eyes never left his. He cleared his throat. “It, um… It was just acting up. I ran out of meds and the pain it—it got bad. The kinda pain that sorta makes me wish I had the arm just so I could saw it off myself.”

Shit. He hadn’t mean to say that much but there was just something about the way you looked at him that made him feel like he couldn’t say a damn wrong thing. You pursed your lips, nodding in as much understanding as you could offer. You gestured to the staircase and Bucky followed you without question.

“I would have been here last week,” Bucky finished because he needed you to know. He couldn’t stand the idea of you being upset, of that sliver of disappointment in your voice when you’d accepted he wasn’t going to show. He needed you to know he’d tried.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you said simply, though he could tell you appreciated it nonetheless. You offered him a smile, one that washed away any feelings of doubt that crept up to the surface. The pain in his shoulder was long forgotten when you looked at him like that.

“I just wanted you to know.”

I just wanted you to know I’m trying.

He had something to look forward to now, a reason to get out of his bed and open the curtains and look at the fucking sun for once. He had reason to shower and go outside and shove away all the thoughts of self-doubt and paranoia because there was something incredible waiting for him beyond the door.

I just wanted you to know you’re the reason I’m trying.

“Come on,” you grinned, leading him to the staircase. “I have a few books in mind you might like.”

Your hand extended in his direction, but you caught yourself when you realized what you were doing. It was seamless enough that you easily played it off as you tugged your sweater tight around your body, but he noticed. It was an intimate gesture, a closeness he hadn’t known in years.

He hadn’t remembered what it felt like to crave something like that.

***

It didn’t take long for Bucky to settle on The Martian by Andy Weir. It was the first book you pulled from the shelves, one amongst a series of alternatives you had ready in the event this one didn’t appeal to him. All it took was a single glance over the back cover, a slight incline in his brow, and he was sold.

“I trust you,” was all Bucky had said; so simply, as if it didn’t take the breath straight from your chest.

Bucky didn’t have a library card you realized as you brought him back to the front desk. He’d sheepishly asked to check it out on your account, but you were determined to see more of him and you hoped that by getting him his own card, he might be more inclined to come back. Not that you explained it that way per say, but he didn’t object at least.

It had taken a lot less time than either of you anticipated and you found yourself following him to the exit, both of you dragging your feet.

“So, um…” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice. “That was easy.”

“Yeah,” you scratched at the back of your neck, glancing to the clock hanging high on the eastern wall. “I hope you like it after all this trust you’re putting in my judgement.”

“I’m sure I will.”

A short silence swept over. Neither of you moving to leave. A couple swerved around you in an effort to get to the doors. The silence wasn’t awkward, but there was a nervous energy in it, like you were both waiting for the other to make the first move. Only, you both did it at once.

“Would you want to—”

“I’m off at four—”

You bit down on your lips, suppressing a laugh. You gestured for him to go first. His looked so sweet with the pink in his cheeks. A man who had been once rendered as a weapon and he wore a blush in his cheeks. Your stomach held butterflies in its cage.

“There’s a coffeeshop nearby,” he continued nervously. “I was thinking I could replace that coffee of yours I spilled last week…”

Your cheeks were starting to ache from how wide you were smiling. “Give me five minutes? I just need to wrap things up with Mrs. Jefferson and then I’m yours.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of something unreadable on his face. He shook it off quickly and nodded, telling you he’d wait by the chairs along the wall until you were ready. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the desk that you’d realized what you’d said.

I’m yours.

A harmless saying; one people used every day in passing. Still, you felt that same surge of energy at the thought. From the twists in your stomach and the stammer in your heart, you knew that if he’d asked, it would be true.

***

Bucky watched as you scurried back to the main desk, a few quick glances back over your shoulder in his direction like you were making sure he was still there. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it ached in your cheeks. He’d never known anyone to smile as much as you did, like you had this limitless supply of joy eager to be tapped into. He couldn’t help but feel a twist in his stomach, knowing he had been able to syphon some of that joy and bring it to the surface. It was him you were smiling at. It felt like a dream.

He glanced down at the book nestled into the sleeve of his bag; a stunning ombre in shades of orange to red to black, a lone astronaut in the center – like he was floating adrift. You’d told him it was a story of survival, of the intricacies of humanity and human connection. It was funny at times and filled with science beyond your pay grade, but it was mesmerizing.

There was an unspoken hope he could read in your eyes that he might connect to the main character, Mark Watney in his search for connection, in his desperate hope to free himself from the isolation, in his resilience. You’d said Mark was an exceptional character, one with courage and determination to be admired.

Bucky wasn’t sure he could stand up to the likes of Mark Watney, but he would certainly try.

The glimmer in your eye as you spoke about the book, almost as if it were an old friend, was enough to convince him. For the first time in years, he felt the urge to read when he got home, just so he could see the look on your face in book club when you realized he’d already started it. He wanted to make you proud, wanted to see more of your smile. It was his new drive.

A few minutes later, you came jogging back up to him. Your purse hung over your shoulders, a few new books of your own tucked under your arm. You’d done more than finish your shift at the desk though, he realized, because his eyes flickered to a reflective shine on your lips, one that hadn’t been there before. You’d put on lip gloss.

His heart flipped.

“Ready?” you asked, gesturing to the doors. All bright eyes and sunshine as you looked at him.

“There’s a café called Luciana’s not too far from here. I’ve heard good things about it. Might be quiet,” Bucky offered and a flash of something unreadable crossed your features. “Do you know it?”

“I go there every Sunday before book club! It’s my favorite,” you replied, nearly skipping in your steps. “Replacing my coffee and getting it right down to the same shop? I’m impressed, Bucky.”

He chuckled, hanging his head as he followed you down the descending staircase and into the heavy flow of pedestrian traffic. He’d forgotten how busy the sidewalks could get at rush hour and the smile quickly drained from his face, though he wouldn’t let you see.

Bucky tried to focus on you as the strangers circled in around him, how you were laughing at the coincidence of it all, starting on a tangent of your favorite donuts at the shop. Your voice was like a beacon and he did his best use it as a guide.

But he could feel the quicken pace of his heart inside his chest, how it thumped through his ribs and pulsed into his head the closer strangers got to him. He swerved out of the way of a tourist who was too busy looking down at his phone to notice Bucky in his path. He kept his head down, hand clenched tightly in his jacket pocket, eyes staring at the concrete.

Teenagers were whispering behind him, snickering under their breath, and Bucky could hear the harsh ‘shhh’ of a father at wit’s end. His lungs felt tight, certain that the boys were mocking the loose sleeve hanging down by his side. He could have taken it if here were on his own. His ears would flush red and a wash of shame and embarrassment would flood his senses, but he could have taken it.

Not with you by his side. Not when you could be privy to the harsh stares and the cruel voices, the validation to a fear he’d known to be true long before he met you – that he was a broken mess of who he used to be and he would never find that sense of normalcy again. He was kidding himself into thinking that you could ever want someone like—

“Bucky?”

When he looked up at you, your smile had fallen away, replaced with concern. It must not have been the first time you called his name. He didn’t know what to say. He felt small, like a child, embarrassed that even on a good day the influx of people still rendered him to a state of panic.

“Come on,” you said quietly, glancing around to an alley off your shoulder. “Let’s take the scenic route.”

He followed gratefully, staring at your shoulder blades as you led him away from the busy hustle of the crowd and along empty side streets and residential neighborhoods. It would take longer this way, but you didn’t seem to mind. You were too busy admiring the architecture of the brownstones and the beautiful array of plants and flowers hanging along the windows. In the open space, you skipped a few paces ahead, arms out wide and twirled around, simply because you could. You laughed and it echoed up along the buildings.

Bucky could have handed you his heart right then. He could have pulled it straight from his chest and set it into your palms. He wondered if you would handle it with the tender sort of care he hoped you would. His heart was fraying and damaged, after all. It required a gentle touch.

You fell back in line with him easily and you checked to make sure the next block wasn’t too busy before you led him down another side street. He tried to ignore the voices telling him he was a burden, that his baggage was dragging heavy at your feet, but it crept to the surface no matter how many times you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled out, willing his voice to be stronger than it felt. “I don’t know why this is such an issue for me. I was fine on the way over.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Bucky,” you said gently, slowing your pace until you came to a stop.

Bucky dragged his feet, stopping along a bush of pink hydrangeas planted outside a stunning brick townhome. From the corner of his eye, he watched as your hand reached out to him instinctively, almost in slow motion, and you only paused as you realized what you were doing and pulled back. You cleared your throat.

“I’m not ever someone you have to apologize to about this stuff, okay?” you continued with a kind of sincerity in your voice, Bucky didn’t have a choice but to believe you. The way you looked at him nearly pulled him to pieces. “It comes and goes. Waxes and wanes. There’s no fault. No blame. Just tell me if something’s wrong, so I can help. That’s all I ask.”

Were you speaking from experience? Did you know someone who had been as shattered as he was? Was it the reason Sam wanted him to ask about why you were involved with the VA to begin with?

It was quiet on the side street; the only sound the distant footsteps from traffic up ahead and the low rumble of car engines in the distance. A bird chirped from a low handing branch above.

You shoved your hands into your pockets in an effort to keep yourself from reaching for his. He was surprised at the twist in his stomach when he wished you would have tried just one more time. Maybe he could have had some courage to take it.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, feeling a weight lift from his chest. When you smiled again it was small— a little heavy— but it touched your eyes. There was a relief in it, maybe an appreciation, too. It swept away some of the anxiety from his veins.

“Okay.” Your smile widened as you continued to walk down the sidewalk. Bucky found himself feeling a little lighter as he followed behind.

When the two of you approached the main street again along the block Luciana’s was tucked away in, Bucky didn’t feel as though he was suffocating anymore. He could sense his reflexes picking up, a subtle increase in his heart rate, but he walked a little closer to you, your hip bumping against his every so often and he found that it grounded him. It kept him firm on the surface when he felt like he was floating up into a distant unknown. He wondered if you knew the extent to which you affected him.

Luciana’s was quiet inside as Bucky jutted out ahead of you to reach for the door. A soft strum of an acoustic guitar and a Spanish speaking singer’s intricate melody hummed over the speakers. He felt a solid breath of air fill his lungs, tasting of coffee beans and fresh pastries.

“Welcome to—” a voice called from behind the counter before she paused, eyes falling on you. “Y/n!”

A woman ran out from behind the counter, dressed in a stained apron and a long, bright pink dress, and held her arms out to you. You laughed as she enveloped you to her chest.

“My darling! It is not Sunday, you know. You’re getting your days mixed up!” she exclaimed, wagging her finger at you. She didn’t even give you time to explain before she turned to Bucky, who suddenly felt a burn of heat on his face. “Ah! You finally brought me one of your boys!”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, turning to you quickly. His stomach dropped.

“She means at the VA,” you explained, a little embarrassed at her implication as you shuffled your feet, eyes darting at the floor. Bucky raised an eyebrow in realization, eyes flickering back to the woman – who he assumed to be Luciana herself – as she scurried back around the counter. He noticed then that she was wearing slippers on her feet.

“Come, come!” She called eagerly, waiting with a tapping toe at the register.

You and Bucky exchanged a glance, a breath of a laugh escaping before you stepped up to the counter. You didn’t hesitate in your order, though you took some extra time in looking over the pastries and donuts after Bucky told you to pick something out for him. You put so much thought into it, it was really quite sweet. He waited until you reached down for your purse to slip his card over the counter to Luciana.

She wore that same smile he’d seen on Mrs. Jefferson at the library. That smirk. Like they knew something he didn’t.

You heard the ring of the cash registered and looked up at him, agape. You swatted his arm without thinking twice about it and there was a comfort in that. He laughed, taking his coffee and settling in at a table by the windows as you followed behind.

As he watched you across the table, your eyes glancing out to the pedestrians as they walked back, nursing the steaming mug of coffee between your hands, that morning suddenly felt like it was a life time ago.

Had he really been paralyzed with pain, unable to move from his bed, just a few hours earlier? It felt like a century had passed in between. In a rare indulgence, Bucky let himself wonder what it would feel like to spend all his time with you; if maybe time moved so fast it swept him off his feet or if it moved slow enough to allow him to catch every second.

All he knew was that he wanted more.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic

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mirrorshards · 2 years

Text

let’s try to put my Return of Covid thoughts in order....

very long, all spoilers

it’s actually really hard to be levelheaded about this because the ending impacted me so much that even tho i loved so much of the episode everything just pales to the huge disappointment I got by the last scene.

I liked seeing the flashback of stan’s miserable pandemic life and it was sad and he was so cute. didn’t expect to see the actual burning scene and then funeral and i felt like it was actually the weakest part of the montage but that’s peanuts really.

also liked seeing stan get a little more hopeful and assertive as it was framed that he was doing it for kenny again. his team up with kyle was nice and I do enjoy their stiff banter and even the whole alexa genre of jokes was funny to an extent (if you ignore the blantant misogyny for a bit). I actually do love them not getting along because.. again, I felt it was deserved. it wasn’t just one measly argument that tore them apart it’s years of neglection.

butters... I was so scared of what they might do with him. I’m so glad he wasn’t what the fandom expected he’d be. I’m not a huge fan of the mustache (what’s with literally everyone getting facial hair tho? they had some bare faced parents..) but i’m so glad he was an overall happy person and an extremely good business man and con artist. it fits him really well and even if i hate him a little for being in the NFT business and want to punch him, this is still quite a perfect turnout for him. (also his sob story of being grounded for 16 years kjdshsdf)

clyde plot was kinda weird but i enjoyed it sdsdf i was never a huge clyde fan but I do love making fun of him, so i definitely laughed.

the kyman fight was hilarious and beautiful and everything I could have wished for. I even enjoyed kyle being overpowered even tho it’s always the other way..

also something I hadn’t mentioned before but I really, really love cartman’s family. his wife is super sweet and she’s hot man. and they’re so in love??? and they’re great and loving parents, cartman’s kids getting everything they could ever need and so well educated. they’re perfect, really. I love them so much and I love that cartman really did change his ways and he cares for them deeply to the point he becomes a little conniving shit again, to protect them. I love it.

the whole... past was....... underwhelming to say the least. there was no impact in them meeting their kid selves, the kids had almost no reaction (tho cartman did make me laugh), just throwing makeshift “you should forgive him!” “you lose everything when you lose this!” idk man. i’m not a writer but that’s weak ass writing. it’s just putting the base down so the idea goes forward but it’s not executing said idea. their later reconciliation at the game was also really weak. it’s true the tear between stan and kyle was the deepest but it was like that for a reason.. having spent some good time together can help mending it but it’s not just something worth going “sorry dude” “dw dude it’s cool!” over. I wrote about their whole recent timeline here and I really thought it was what matt and trey were referring to because it makes the most sense. but that and the last scene just make me feel like it was a fluke

and then. the last scene.

I have said this to my friends over and over by now but narratively it’s nor the smartest to SHOW the new future when the next content in line is gonna deal with the kids being friends again. like i sincerely thought that was the whole point, to build up the rest of the good timeline for them. it’s kinda weak showing how it turns out if you ask me. also it was SO messy. I felt like it was superrrr rushed. like it’s clearly not another 40 years later because shelly is younger than stan’s design, but also he still looks the same? still balding with afternoon shadow he’s just slimmer and in uniform. kyle and wendy and everyone else look exactly the same but wendy just came back from harvard and wants to get together with stan again? which is lovely and i appreciate the stendy don’t get me wrong but it’s framed in a kinda “we’re young and everything is still ahead of us” way. but they still used their 50yo designs?

anyway I could have gone without that last scene altogether because will i figured cartman would probably be punished for. uh. having a good life, loving family and saving the day along with saving their friendship. but not like this. I hated it. what’s the point of fixing the broship if you’re gonna leave one for the 4 to rot on the street? so it’s okay that cartman gets the bad route if everyone else is happy?

kyle stole cartman’s life basically. two jewish kids, one wearing a yamaka? (also its the same design as moisha) uh what the fuck. kyle doesn’t wear one, why would his son? basu put it really nicely here. yeah I get it the good ending is kyle getting it and cartman getting shit but it’s so brutal. cartman gave up everything. and he’s the one who cared most about their broship to begin with?? yeah he’s not a good person but he was always awarded for bad behavior and punished for his selfless acts and this ending is just a huge win for “kyle”, who had nothing before and has everything now.

edit: also wanted to add, basu pointed out to me that they went a whole ass way to make everything change for kyle’s benefit but not have kyle actually learn from it. like, even stan learned something, with his gift to past randy.. but kyle? doesn’t take responsibility for his part of the tear, doesn’t want to fix it for the right reasons and eventually ends up with the best life, so he doesn’t learn from it either. it’s fucked up

another reason it makes me mad is because it’s not just narratively weird for them to dump him but also it’s ooc for him to end up on the street. he hates poor people and homeless and he’s a survivor with quick adaptive capabilities- he can get himself out of binds easily because he’s not scared of throwing people and things under the bus. he also appreciates a comfortable way of living so i feel like, if he ever felt that his comfortable life was threatened he’d stir shit up and manipulate it so he’d win. and he’s done it before like... that’s the show. so this eric cartman would never end up on the street even if he was dirt poor. and kyle wouldn’t leave him alone either.. kyle loves helping cartman out when he’s in a bind, it rides on kyle’s savior complex. butters also loves cartman and idk he’d offer cartman to live with him and probably regret it later and idk give him food from the restaurant secretly... I don’t buy that they’d just leave him for dead. and I’m disappointed so many things were overlooked just to make this joke when it’s not even half as shocking as rabbi cartman

#south park return of covid #thoughts and opinions #bleh

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if this is too specific but can I request for a smut where jaehyun despises y/n for a reason that she acts all innocent and kind infront of everybody when y/n is actually a brat and he wants to see it himself by giving her a rough sex (almost like a hate sex as well?) I really love your works and I spend most of my time reading them, this is my first request ever! thank you if you do ❤️

Pairing: friend!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: hate sex, unprotected sex, teasing, choking, degradation? sort of?

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: thank you for this request, hope you like it :)

“Isn’t Y/N so sweet?” Jungwoo sighed, watching you walk away towards the buffet to get him some more cocktail shrimp.

Jaehyun just watched you, eyes narrowed. He knew better, knew your little act was all for show. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” Mark laughed loudly, “she’s the sweetest person we know, right Taeyong?”

Taeyong nodded, before launching into his favorite story about how you had taken care of him when he was sick once and refused to go to the doctor, while Taeil piped up about a story where you had given a homeless man your umbrella. Everyone else nodded in agreement, your entire friend group, save Jaehyun, agreeing that you were an angel on earth.

Jaehyun, however, knew what you were capable of. He was good friends with Yuta, your ex, and Yuta had told him everything about how bratty you were, how you liked to push his buttons, how you would misbehave on purpose in order to get punished. He hated this little act you displayed to everyone, disgusted that all of your friends believed you were some sweet, innocent person, when in reality, you were anything but.

---

“Here, Jaehyun, give it to me, I’ll wash it for you.”

You were all at Haechan’s house party, and someone had spilled their drink on Jaehyun’s shirt. At your offer, he only shook his head, mouth downturned.

“No thanks,” he said curtly.

“It’s no bother, really, best to get it out right away,” you insisted, holding out your hand to him, “come on, let’s go upstairs and get it cleaned.”

“No really, I’m good,” Jaehyun was positively cold now, his voice like ice.

“What’s the problem? Just go with her! She’s offering to clean your shirt!” Johnny was already a few beers in and unnecessarily loud, which made Jaehyun flinch.

“You can use my room,” Haechan offered, practically picking up Jaehyun and pushing him towards you. Reluctantly he got up, sighing heavily, and followed you up the stairs.

You led Jaehyun into Haechan’s room and closed the door behind him. “Okay, give me your shirt,” you said sweetly, “I can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

Jaehyun could feel his blood boiling, seeing your bratty attitude starting to come out as you stared at him cheekily. He bit the inside of his cheek, arousal and anger mixing together inside of him.

“Well?” you questioned, hands on your hips, “I won’t be able to wash it if you’re wearing it, although I guess I could try…” smirking you reached towards his shirt, but before you could make contact he grabbed your wrist.

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” he said, his voice harsh, “I’m calling the shots now.”

He squeezed your wrist harder, making you wince, but riling him up was fun, so you continued. “Is that so?” you asked, eyeing him up and down as he stared at you, “and what shots will you be calling, exactly?”

“You act all sweet and innocent in front of our friends, but really you’re just a fucking brat, am I right?”

You laughed. “Who told you that? I bet it was Nakamoto Yuta,” you scoffed, “he could never keep his mouth shut.”

“So is it true?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“I intend to.”

He came at you then, pushing you onto the bed and then caging you in with his body. You were loving it, but still you felt the need to push his buttons.

“Took you long enough to get me into this position,” you teased, “Yuta had me underneath him an hour after we met.”

Clearly he didn’t like being compared to anyone, let alone one of his closest friends. The vein in his forehead throbbed, his mouth a thin line, as he leaned his face closer to yours.

“Keep it up, baby, and you’ll get what you deserve,” he growled, breath fanning your face.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby,” you continued to tease, adrenaline rushing through you at the prospect of what he might do to you. You had to admit, Jeong Jaehyun intrigued you, and you were dying to know if he was really packing down there like you suspected he was.

“Watch it,” he warned, bringing his knee between your legs and rubbing it against your pussy. You inhaled sharply at the friction, and his eyes grew dark as he watched your reaction. “I’m gonna fuck you right now, I’m gonna make you scream my name and forget your own.”

He was making you hot, arousal coursing through your body and turning your limbs to jelly. You were powerless as he started to kiss your neck, still rubbing his knee against your crotch, making you whimper.

“Not so bratty now, are you,” he smirked, sucking harshly on your skin and definitely leaving marks. You squirmed as he continued to rub his knee into you, but you needed more.

“Is that the best you can do?” you breathed, trying to affect a breezy air but it was getting more and more difficult with the way he was teasing you.

He growled against your neck, before he practically ripped your clothes off of you, then pulled off his own. Once you were both naked he leaned back on his knees to admire you, lying bare beneath him. Taking his cock in his hand he pumped it slowly, watching you as you watched him, salivating at the sight.

“I’ll show you what I can do,” he said, his voice low and raspy. You pretended to laugh, and it had the desired effect. His face went dark, eyes hard, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed. “I’ll show you what a brat like you deserves.”

He entered you, hard and fast, no preamble, no sweet words and soft movements to coax your hole to open up for him, just his rock hard cock ramming into your pussy. You fought the scream that wanted to tear out of your throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but that became increasingly hard when he started to build up a pace, fucking into you so hard the bed creaked loudly.

“You wanna piss me off, make me angry, well this is what you get,” he said, voice dripping with disdain. You could hear the anger in it, feel it in his movements, in the way he squeezed your wrists as he held you down. His hips were relentless, pounding into you, his cock so big and so deep inside you it felt like he was rearranging your insides. You wanted to moan, whimper, cry his name, all of it, but you fought it, keeping as quiet as you could to rile him up even more.

“Tell me you like it, you fucking brat,” he hissed, letting go of your arms so he could squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples. Again you fought the urge to cry out as he pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds. You clutched the sheets instead, feeling an orgasm coming on and trying your hardest not to make it obvious. But your body gave you away, your pussy clenching around him, thighs shaking as he pulled an orgasm out of you so strong you could see stars in your vision.

“You don’t have to tell me, your pussy said it all,” he smirked, still railing you, tears pricking your eyes from oversensitivity but still he kept going.

“Still wasn’t good enough for me,” you lied, trying to keep your breathing even, “I’ve had better.”

He tried to look unaffected by your words, but his hips stuttered, giving him away. Without a word he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you up roughly by your hips so your pussy was opened up to him. You braced yourself on your elbows as he plunged into you again, the force of his thrust almost knocking you face first onto the mattress.

“You’re really gonna get it now, no more holding back,” he growled, and you wondered what was in store for you if that’s what he was like when he was holding back. This time, you couldn’t stifle your screams as he pounded you so hard and so deep he was reaching places you didn’t think anyone could reach. High-pitched whines and moans left your mouth as he tore you apart, as his cock pumped in and out of you making you come again and again, losing track of the orgasms you were having, his hands rough on your body.

“That’s it, baby,” he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you up to him, whispering in your ear, “keep screaming like that, show everyone what a bratty little fuck you are.”

You’d lost yourself to him at this point, unable to resist anymore, and so you did as you were told, screaming until your voice was hoarse.

“Scream my name, baby, tell everyone who’s fucking the brattiness out of you,” he squeezed his hand around your neck, restricting your airflow, and it made you so aroused you gushed around his cock.

“Jaehyun!” you choked out, “yes! Fuck me, Jaehyun!”

He came with a deep, guttural groan, squeezing your neck even harder, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach to bring you even closer to him and push his cock even deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all of your limbs convulsing as you came again, your mouth falling slack as the lack of air started to take its toll. Just before you blacked out completely he released his hold on you, and you fell limply onto the bed.

You were slowly coming back to yourself when you felt Jaehyun stroking your arm. You turned around to look at him and he was already dressed, sitting on the bed beside you.

“Oh good, you’re still alive,” he said it jokingly, with a smile, but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Did you prove your point? Am I really a brat?” you asked, your brain still hazy from the mind-blowing sex you’d just had.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, you’re really a brat,” he nodded, “but to be honest, I kinda like it.”

---

Thanks for 1.4k :)

[REQUESTS CLOSED]

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

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emmyhem · 3 years

Text

always (l.r.h) part two

a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life.

warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up

word count: 2.9k

pt. 1

The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake.

Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.

You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money.

Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?”

But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance.

“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on.

“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence?

“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy.

“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?”

She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.”

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.

“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair.

She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.”

You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days.

Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen.

“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.”

You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy.

You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up.

You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath.

“Y/n,”

Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort.

“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well.

As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.

“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.

You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach.

As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you.

“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.”

You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.

Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house.

When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times.

Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here.

Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.”

He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect.

Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first.

“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe.

“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.”

From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket.

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt.

He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears.

“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused.

“What’re you talking about, love?”

You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week.

His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip.

“I am proud of you baby.”

He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice.

As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you.

“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.”

You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers.

“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.”

He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you.

“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.”

Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you.

“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-”

“I do need you.” you interrupted.

Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead.

“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.”

You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile.

“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?”

You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him.

Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life.

“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself.

If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck.

“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air.

“Yea?” he responded.

You hummed against his lips, “Always.”

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