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#it's crazy to me that i can somehow make a friend who is halfway across the entire world. an entire ocean away.
leemarkies · 2 years
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pt 18372948 of why i am literally so lucky to have such an amazing friend
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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Oubliette (3x08)
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Trigger warnings: for references to child abuse, child sexual abuse, trauma-related violence.
She watches him sitting on the edge of her bed as he patiently waits for her to be ready to look at the photograph hidden in his pocket. Her eyes close as the sun from the window warms her face. In the light of day is the only way she can do this, she realizes: see a face she’s so desperately tried to forget in the dark. 
“I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you,” Agent Mulder admits. “It’s understandable you want to forget. But Lucy, sometimes remembering can help too.”
Lucy scoffs. “Remembering has never helped me before…”
She’s seven, laughing while playing Duck Duck Goose outside in the sun with her neighborhood friends. 
She’s eight, sleeping peacefully in her bed when a stranger slaps a sweaty hand over her mouth and whispers, “no one’s gonna spoil us.”
She’s nine, hiding in a corner when he blinds her with the camera’s flash. 
She’s ten, sobbing on the floor as he steals her innocence for the first time.
She’s eleven, falling to pieces when her cries for her mama continue to go unanswered. 
She’s twelve, clenching her fists in anger until her palms bleed.
She’s thirteen, hitting him over the head with a coffee mug and kicking him in the crotch, before climbing the ladder and finally, finally escaping. 
She’s fourteen, sixteen, eighteen… and she is numb.
She’s twenty, slinging rock and selling her body for money—
“Lucy?”
She gasps as her eyes snap open. 
She’s thirty, falling to pieces all over again.
“Lucy, do you need a minute?”
“I’m fine,” she manages to say around the lump in her throat. “You can show him to me now.”
“He’s probably changed a lot over the last seventeen years. Did you even know his name?” Agent Mulder carefully asks as he slides the 8x10 across her blanket. 
Lucy shakes her head. His name never mattered, only how unsafe his presence made her feel. 
“Carl Wade,” the agent continues “He worked as a photographer’s assistant. School pictures mostly. That’s where he saw Amy Jacobs.”
She’s shaking as she stares at the photo of the man who turned her childhood dreams into nightmares. Earlier, she’d told Agent Mulder not to touch her. That she doesn’t like to be touched, because she rarely trusts anyone not to hurt her. But she regrets that now. This man is kind, caring. Somehow she trusts he would never hurt her. 
“So what do you want from me?” 
Her voice cracks alongside her resolve. She hates being vulnerable; it makes her weak. That’s why drugs and sex work felt freeing to Lucy. She got to choose her john, held the power to give them permission before they used her, then got high to forget it.
She’s clean now and has worked really damn hard to turn her life around. Figures her past would fuck it up somehow. 
“I want you to tell me what you’re going through,” he suggests gently. “It might feel good to tell somebody.”
Her eyes flick up to meet his. “I feel like it’s happening all over again.”
She barely survived this Carl Wade the first time.
“You can actually feel what she’s going through, can’t you?” 
Lucy wants to laugh at how crazy that sounds, but the pleading look in the agent’s green eyes urges her to admit the truth. 
“I don’t want to go through this again.” 
“Lucy, she needs your help.”
“There’s nothing I can do,” she says automatically, but as soon as the words leave her lips, it dawns on her that it might not be true anymore.
Because she feels her again: Amy, invading her body, filling her up with a familiar fear so strong she nearly chokes on it. 
“Lucy…”
Car doors slamming outside the halfway house send Agent Mulder down the stairs, leaving Lucy alone with that goddamn picture.
She wasn’t lying to him before when she’d said she didn’t know where Amy was, or that she couldn’t help her. She can barely help herself. But she can’t ignore the overwhelming weight of remembering the evil of Wade pressing down on her. The same weight Amy is feeling right now.
A sudden urge to flee pulls her to her feet. Like an invisible string, Amy’s panic wraps itself around Lucy’s chest and tugs.
She has to go. It’s all so clear now. She has to go back. Through the woods, through the house — into the dark. Maybe she was never meant to leave it at all.
Lucy hears the other Feds arguing with Agent Mulder downstairs. Something about how her blood from her nose bleed at work was mixed with Amy’s blood. They think she’s working with Wade. That she’s done something awful to the girl. But they don’t know, have no fucking idea what unspeakable things she’d do to Wade now if she could. They don’t know what it’s like to feel fear so intense for so long it becomes part of you. 
Like how she has become part of Amy.
Lucy’s heart races. Agent Mulder is right. She and Amy share a special connection through their kidnapper: the fucking monster who ruined her life and forced her to waste half of it rotting away in darkness.  
She walks around her bed, slowly picks up the glossy image of Wade’s face, and rips it in half.
Tears blur her vision as she opens the window and climbs down the fire escape. Lucy has accepted the dark is where she’s been forced to fight for survival, ever since the night that bastard crept into her pretty pink bedroom and stole her from her bed. But no one else should have to. Her feet hit pavement and she’s instantly transported back there, stuck in that pitch-black hellhole, trembling with bone deep chills and never ending terror. 
Maybe thirteen-year-old Lucy never actually escaped after all. 
But maybe Amy Jacobs can. 
Maybe, the only way to end a nightmare is to dream it all over again. 
Read the other chapters of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3
@monikafilefan
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pondwatr04 · 3 years
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Who Obeys Who?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
~F!Mc~ Word Count: 4,494
Summary: After Mc’s latest brush with death, Lucifer has placed various rules to ensure her safety. However, the independent human will soon discover that the brothers have become increasingly possessive/protective over her, to the point where she begins to feel suffocated. In the heat of the moment during a particularly bad fight, Mc uses the power of her pacts and accidentally harms the brothers in the process. Anguished over this and the brothers’ behavior, she runs away and seeks a way to break the pacts, for their sake and her own!
Warnings: Mention of death, brief violence, aggressive scenarios.
It was no secret to anyone that the 7 Lords of Devildom were fiercely protective of their little human, however this was something that Mc was still adjusting to. Back in the human world, Mc was never really the center of attention or had particularly protective family/friends, and was quite content with the sense of freedom that came with such a life.
However, as the brothers began to grow closer and closer with her, their desire to guard the new member of their family also swelled. At first, she found this behavior somewhat endearing; it warmed her heart to know that such powerful and feared demons cared so deeply for her, a mere mortal human. With this new sensation of the brothers at her side, Mc felt safe in Devildom, despite the multiple times she had almost lost her life.
That was until she had a particularly bad run in with several lower demons at RAD once a day. Mc had left her classes mid-session to use the restroom, the hallways were silent and empty as everyone was seated in their classrooms. However, when she was making her way back to class, three lower demons jumped out and began attacking her, beating her nearly unconscious.
In between the grunts and deafening blows the demons dealt her, she could hear them shouting something about how she was making the Demon Lords soft, that her presence was ruining their reputation as fearsome, cruel creatures.
However, it was over as soon as it started; the demons left her gasping alone on the cool, tiled floor. Soon after Mammon (who had been in the process of skipping class) discovered her battered body and called his brothers for help. Although Mc hadn’t sustained any serious injuries, she was quickly raced to the nearest hospital and made a swift recovery with the help of Solomon and Simeon’s healing abilities.
In the days after the incident, Mc was feeling suprisingly unscatched, both physically and mentally. Despite how worried sick the brothers were, she was simply happy that the whole ordeal was over and done with, the perpetrators promptly beaten and jailed. However, Lucifer had decided this was not good enough for Mc, or rather, him.
==================================
Mc sat nervously at the dining table in the House of Lamentation, all the chairs filled with their respective brothers. Lucifer had called a “family meeting” earlier that day during RAD classes and had stressed that everyone must be there.
At first Mc hadn’t been too worried about the sudden order, but simply watching Mammon anxiously bounce his leg from next to her with his chin resting gravely on his palm, had her suddenly reconsidering. Everyone instantly perked up as Lucifer cleared his throat from the end of the long table.
“In light of… recent events...,” he begins his gaze sweeping from brother to brother, eventually landing firmly on Mc, making her jump slightly. He pauses for a moment, huffing slightly.
“...I have decided that there is an urgent need for new rules regarding Mc, more specifically on how to ensure she remains safe in her time at Devildom,” he announces.
“What do you mean ‘new rules’,” Mc questions, eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Lucifer shoots her a quick glare after being interrupted before continuing.
“I mean that as of today, you cannot be without an escort when leaving the House of Lamentation under any circumstances-,” he says as Mc rises quickly from her chair.
“What?! I need an escort?-'' she exclaims, hands placed definitely on the table before her.
“-That includes walking to and from RAD, walking between class periods, and anywhere else outside of the House of Lamentation,” he continues, ignoring Mc’s sudden outburst.
“That ridiculous, I can handle walking myself perfectly fine-,” Mc shouts.
“You will be required to have your D.D.D on you at all times, and you are not permitted to leave the house after 8pm,” he states coldly, staring down Mc. “All of which are effective for an indefinite amount of time.”
“This isn’t necessary, Lucifer! I know what happened last week, but that doesn’t mean you can just start making me follow all these crazy restrictions!” Mc pleads, desperately looking around the table at the brothers for any semblance of support.
However, they all avoid her gaze, a few of them taking sudden interest in the intricate carvings that adorn the side of the wooden table.
“It is necessary, Mc,” Lucifer says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms. “I know that you’re a very independent person, but these rules are for your own safety.”.
“I’m sorry Lucifer, but I won’t allow myself to submit to this-,” Mc begins defiantly.
“-You will follow these rules. This is not something that is up for discussion, Mc!” he bellows, causing everyone at the table to flinch at the sudden aggression.
“And that goes for all of you,” he commands, pointing accusingly at his brothers. “You all are to make sure that she adheres to these rules, you understand?”
They all exchange quick glaces between a fuming Mc and Lucifer’s stern expression. They all nod slowly, reluctantly submitting to Lucifer’s will. Mc flops angrily into her chair, teeth clenched as she festers silently in her own wrath.
As much as she wants to, she simply can’t win against Lucifer, especially not on this one. Seeing that none of the other brothers came to her aid, she decides she has no choice but to swallow her pride. Biting her tongue, she nods slightly along with the brothers.
“Then… that is all that I need to say,” Lucifer says, his composure restored as he rises from his seat. “This meeting is adjourned.”
In the days after Lucifer's declaration, Mc begrudgingly followed each rule. Although she was still fuming, she offered no further protest on the matter, electing to just wait until Lucifer decided these restrictions were no longer necessary.
After a while, Mc began to not be particularly bothered by these rules. Although she valued her occasional moments of solitude, having the brothers escort her from place to place proved to be somewhat enjoyable. Additionally, having her D.D.D on her at all times wasn’t too much of a hassle, and it wasn’t like she had many places to be in Devildom after 8pm.
However, Mc began to feel more concerned with the brothers’ behavior as more and more questionable moments occurred between them. She first took notice of this somewhat alarming shift in behavior when Mc was conversing with a new friend from her Curses and Hexes class; another demon, obviously.
Mc was always eager to make new friends, especially since she rarely had the chance to talk to any demons outside of the seven brothers. Her and this new demon had randomly sparked up a conversation when he had asked her for a spare pencil. He had noticed it had a design on it that originated from a popular movie franchise that he was also interested in, so the duo became engrossed in discussing the topic long into the class period. Even after the bell rang, they continued absentmindedly laughing and chatting with one another.
This caused Beel, who had recently begun waiting for Mc outside of each of her classes to walk her from period to period, to peek his head in the room worriedly. The redhead immediately noticed the lower demon and how he was leaning against Mc’s desk, deep in conversation with his human. Anger quickly sparked in the pit of his abdomen, prompting him to stalk swiftly towards the duo.
He planted a solid hand on Mc’s shoulder. “The bell rang, Mc. Let’s go to your next class,” he grunts, refusing to acknowledge the surprised demon beside him.
“Oh, it's okay Beel. You can go without me, I’ll be leaving after I finish up here in a second,” Mc says cheerfully, waving Beel on without much thought.
In response, his grip tightens every-so slightly on Mc’s shoulder, digging into the fabric of her uniform. “No. I have to go with you Mc,” he says firmly.
“Beel, seriously, it’s okay,” Mc responds in a quizzical tone, eyes flickering between his face and his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll just have my friend here walk me instead. Your class is on the other side of campus anyway, so you’ll be late if you wait for me.”
“I don’t care if I’m late. I’m not going to let you be alone with some other demon, Mc,” he growls.
Both Mc and the lower demon gape at Beel, taken aback by his sudden aggression.
“Beel! Don’t be rude! You don’t need to worry about him, he’s oka-,” Mc exclaims.
“Mc. I’m not leaving you with him,” Beel repeats, this time finally eyeing the fidgeting lower demon sitting across from him. He wilts slightly from Beel’s piercing gaze, feeling as if he’s somehow made a grave mistake by simply talking to Mc. Mc shakes Beel’s hand from her shoulder, rising from her desk to confront him head on.
“Beelzebub. I’m telling you-,” Mc begins before she’s abruptly interrupted by Beel grabbing her wrist and tugging her towards the classroom’s exit. Despite her protests, he managed to make it halfway to her next period before Mc finally wrenched herself from his grip. The other demons in the hallway disperse, fleeing to their classrooms after sensing the dangerous arua the Avatar of Gluttony was emitting.
“What the hell Beel?” she pants, rubbing the angry red skin on her wrist. She eyes him, feeling increasingly uneasy; what happened back in the classroom...it was completely out of character for him. He never spoke to her, or anyone in that way, let alone put his hands on her like that.
“Lucifer said you can’t go anywhere by yourself,” he explains, placing a hand on his neck while shame begins to replace the wrath within him.
“Yeah, I wasn’t going by myself. I said that my friend was going to walk me instead,” Mc shoots back.
Beel frowns, “You can’t trust any demon you meet, Mc. You don’t know if you really would be safe with him.”
In the back of her mind, Mc knows he’s half right; she simply didn’t know that demon well enough to confidently say he wouldn’t try something the moment she was alone and vulnerable. However, she wasn’t upset that Beel questioned his integrity anymore, she was upset that he didn’t even take a moment to consider her feelings on the matter. He simply ran off with her without a second thought, completely disregarding her ability to judge a person’s character on her own without him or one of his brothers weighing in with their own cynical opinions.
They stood silently for a moment as Mc stewed in her thoughts, the hallway empty, its air turning stale around them. Before she could give a proper retort, the sound of the school’s bell rang around them, indicating that they were now both late for class. Mc clenched her firsts angrily.
She then turned sharply and stalked to her next period, allowing an uneasy Beel to accompany her from a distance. Once she entered her classroom and slammed the door behind her, Beel began the trek on his own class. When the next period ended, Mc found Belphie waiting outside to escort her in place of Beel.
Despite this concerning event, there was a brief lull in the brothers’ display of possessive behavior; whether that be because they finally realized that they were suffocating Mc with their antics, or because Mc had been more careful about complying to Lucifer’s rules.  However, this moment of peace was soon to be interrupted.
After Asmo accidentally spilled wine on Mc during a visit to Ristorante Six, he had vowed to take her shopping for a whole new outfit, even though it only really stained her blouse. When Levi caught wind of the excursion, he decided to tag along to go window shopping for some newly released Ruri-chan merchandise.
That weekend, the trio made their way to the bustling shopping center at the heart of Devildom; the majority of the day was very lighthearted and served as a much needed break from school and the crushing protectiveness of the brothers. They all spent hours browsing and trying on clothes in Majolish, laughing as Asmo forced Levi to briefly explore his fashion sense with them. After they finally left, Mc and Asmo struggled to carry the various bags filled to the brim with clothes and accessories while Levi happily snapped pictures of the exasperated pair, offering no help as he uploaded the photos to Devilgram.
After some more teasing, Levi finally slid his phone away before reaching to take one of the heavier bags from Mc’s hand. Mc gladly accepts the aid, shifting her weight forward to lean towards his extended hand. However, her shoe briefly caught the raised surface of a slightly out-of-place tile in the pavement, causing her to trip mid-step. Before she could sprawl across the floor below, she collides into a passing demon, falling face first into their chest.
“Hey! Watch it-,” the demon shouts, falling backwards from the force of the impact.
Mc instantly removes herself from the demon. “Ah-, I’m sorry! Are you okay?,” flustered from the embarrassing spectacle she’s caused. She offers a hand to the fallen demon, smiling politely as they glare at her from the floor.
“My apologies, I accidentally tripped, and you just happened to be in front of me...,” she says quickly as they begrudgingly reach to take her hand.
Before their palms can overlap, Levi moves in between the two, slapping the demon’s hand away from Mc’s. Shocked, the demon sharply pulls back his hand, hissing from the insult.
“Levi? What the fuck was that for?” Mc gasped, Levi’s expression startlingly contradicting the joyful demon he was moments ago.
“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Levi snarls at the demon, shoving Mc behind him despite her protests. “Stay the fuck away from us.”
At a loss for words, Mc desperately looks to Asmo for help. Rather than stepping forward to mitigate the situation as he so often does, Asmo simply moves to pick up the fallen bag and plants himself next to Levi, ignoring Mc’s aghast face.
“Guys, calm down! It was my fault, I was the one who bumped into them!” Mc exclaims, moving in front of the pair with raised hands.
“Yeah, what the hell? It was just an accident-,” the demon begins, moving to return to a standing position. Before they can get themselves completely upright, Levi shoves him to the ground.
“Levi-,” Mc yelped at the sudden display of violence. This time, she places a hand on the two advancing brothers’ chest, glaring at them both.
“If you two don’t knock this shit off right now, I’ll use our pacts to command you to stop,” she warns, hoping the anger in her tone masked the fear she felt creeping its way into the corners of her mind.
Levi clicks his tongue in frustration, reluctantly taking a step away from the terrified demon. Asmo slowly follows, never taking his eyes off them.
“Fine,” Asmo mutters. “But it would be in your best interest to leave, and never show your face around us ever again,” Asmo spat at the demon, his usually pristine face twisted into an irritated grimace.
The demon immediately takes off in the other direction, leaving the trio alone in the street. Before Mc could scold them, they both link their arms around her’s and stomp away.
“That was out-of-fucking line, guys!” Mc exclaims after a moment of stunned silence. The pair flinch a little but continue tugging her back to the House of Lamentation wordlessly.
“That was… that was absolutely ridiculous! It was just a simple mistake, and it was my fault! There was no reason for you guys to blow up on them like that!” she says, whipping her head from side to side in an attempt to read the faces of the two demons.
“Why’re you acting like that demon running into me was some kind of assasinaton attempt?! You guys didn’t used to be this… unreasonable…” she trails off, desperately trying to get Levi or Asmo to meet her eyes. “...What the fuck happened?” she asks the pair.
“I’ll tell you what the fuck happened, Mc,” Levi finally retorts, clenching his teeth as he lifts his head to look at her from behind his violet hair. “You… you were almost killed... not even a month ago. And if you think we’re just going to let something like that happen again then-”.
“But they weren’t trying to kill me!” Mc thundered, shaking with anger. “You both totally overreacted!”
“We can’t be too careful, Mc. I’m sorry we upset you, but I’d rather that than risk you being murdered!” Asmo admits, gripping her arm desperately.
“There was no danger, Asmo!” Mc yells. “Why can’t you two understand that?”
Levi and Asmo exchanged troubled glances.
“Mc, we’re just trying to do what’s best for you…” Levi pleads, Asmo nodding.
“This is what you think is best for me?! Just tearing off with me the moment I interact with any demon aside from you guys?” Mc scoffs, struggling to wrap her mind around the ridiculousness of the whole situation.
The two demons are silent, festering in shame and frustration. They avoid her eyes, struggling to produce a proper retort.
“I decide what is best for me, got it?! Because clearly, you guys have lost all touch with reality!” she continues, beyond caring about softening her insults.
Although the brothers wanted to argue back, they both elected to bite their tongues for the rest of the walk home, hoping that Mc would eventually calm down and come around to their point of view.
However, when they finally arrived home Mc ripped her arms from their grip, storming to her room while Asmo and Levi frantically tried to apologize from behind her wake. She slammed the door in their faces; they knocked the wooden surface as they pleaded for her to let them so they could make it up to her.
After a while of fruitlessly calling to her, they finally gave up, leaving Mc alone to quietly sob in her room. She refused to speak to the pair for a couple days afterward, but eventually gave up on attempting to hold a grudge on the demons she loved so deeply. She tried to drop her guard around them once again, but still couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling that had been clouding her mind ever since that day.
==================================
Although Mc found these instances incredibly peculiar (alarmingly so), she still gave the demon brothers the benefit of the doubt. She understood that they cared for her fiercely, and that this could lead them to act aggressively; but she could not wrap her head around why they were starting to disregard how Mc felt. They had begun to handle her like a delicate piece of artwork; something to be admired from within a protective container, never to be touched by outside hands.
Despite this, she decided that for the time being she would simply grin a bear it all while she gave them a chance to calm themselves, hoping they would all eventually return to their normal selves. However, this was not the case as Mc would soon realize after she had forgotten to walk home with Mammon after classes at RAD.
As per Lucifer’s rules, Mc was to be accompanied by one of the brothers to and from school. After much pestering from Mammon, she agreed to make walking back with him a daily occurrence. The two would meet in the garden at the center of RAD’s campus and make the journey home together, chatting about their day. However, Mc had completely forgotten about this agreement one day.
Mc has a bad habit of becoming lost in thought, forgetting the world around her as she silently listens to music through a pair of tangled earbuds. Mc was often accompanied by at least 1-2 demon brothers at once, so she doesn't often get much time to simply explore her own thoughts without interruption. This, coupled with her bad habit of becoming detached from the present, caused her to simply walk straight to the House of Lamentation without the thought of meeting Mammon even crossing her mind.
She had gotten home before any of the others, and absentmindedly slumped into bed after changing out of her RAD uniform. Lazily rolling over, she reached out to pick up her previously discarded D.D.D and earbuds, music still faintly playing. She clicked on the screen to turn off the music and noticed she had 9 new notifications while her phone was on silent. There were 6 text messages from Mammon, and 4 new missed calls. Mc sat up in bed to read the texts:
“Oi! Where the hell are ya at Mc?” - 19 minutes ago
“Are you coming or not? Did ya forget about me?” - 16 minutes ago
1 missed call.
“Did ya walk home with Asmo instead of me? That hurts my feelings, ya know.” - 15 minutes ago
1 missed call.
“Hey! Respond to my calls… you’re startin’ to worry me”. - 12 minutes ago
"If you’re worried that I’m mad, I’m not! Just text me when ya get home safely, OK?” - 11 minutes ago
2 missed calls.
“That's it! You better call me back right now, or I’m gonna start freakin’ out!” - 6 minutes ago
Mc drags a hand over her face, annoyed by his gross overreaction. Mammon has always been the clingy type, something she had gotten used to and eventually found somewhat endearing. However, this was just too much…
Before she could even begin to return his calls, the door to her room burst open, swinging on its hinges and slamming into the wall with a loud bang. There in the doorway stood Mammon, sweaty, panting, and obviously very distressed. Alongside him stood Satan, Asmo, and Belphie, all looking slightly less disheveled but with equally concerned expressions. As soon as they laid their eyes on her, relief immediately flushed all other emotion from their faces.
“Wha-”, she began, but was swiftly cut off when Mammon leapt towards her to clutch her shoulders.
“What the hell happened Mc?!” he exclaims, shaking her before embracing her firmly. After a tense moment, he quickly peels himself from her form, his flushed face mere inches from her own as he continues his volley of questions.
“I really thought something bad happened to you!” he cries out, silvery eyebrows furrowed. Mc opened her mouth to explain but was interrupted once again.
“-and why didn’t ya answer my calls? I got so worried that I even called Asmo, and when he said that you weren’t with him, I totally freaked!” he says, his eyes wandering to inspect her body; still expecting her to be harmed in some way.
Mc pushes the babbling demon off of her as she explains, “I’m sorry, I had my D.D.D on silent, so I didn’t see any of your texts.”
As Mammon tumbles to the foot of her bed, Asmo quickly takes his place next to her.
“Mc! You can’t do that to us again! We really thought some other demon got to you!” he sobs, wrapping his arms around her , dramatically burying his face in the crook of her neck. Satan turns his back to them to make a call on his D.D.D, presumably to let the others know that Mc is safe and sound at home.
Overwhelmed by the sudden attention, Mc struggles to pry the weeping demon off of her. She looks to Belphie to help as he’s usually the brother that grants her the most freedom in situations like these. Meeting her gaze, Belphie moves forward, his facade of indifference faintly cracking.
“That doesn’t explain why you didn't wait for one of us to walk with you. You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere by yourself, Mc,” he says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to feign exasperation.
Mc glares at him; she half-expected him to be on her side, to scold Mammon and Asmo for their dramatic antics as he so often does.
“I’m sorry guys, I totally forgot to wait. I guess I just got so lost in thought that I didn’t realize I forgot about Mammon,” she admits, chuckling awkwardly at her rather anticlimactic explanation. Satan turns to face them as he places his D.D.D back into his pant pocket, frowning at her words.
“Well, it's a good thing that you at least went straight back to the House of Lamentation, because if we didn’t find you in your room, Lucifer would have asked Diavolo to form a royal search party for you,” he says, his hand cupping his chin thoughtfully.
“What?! A search party?” Mc exclaims, becoming more exasperated by the second. “Isn’t that a bit much? I mean… I was only unaccounted for for less than half an hour, right? Doesn’t that seem like overkill to you?” she questions, attempting to face Satan as Asmo and Mammon fuss over her.
Satan and Belpie, who normally jump at any chance to criticize Lucifer’s decisions, simply shook their heads.
“No, it’s understandable. We can’t afford to give you the benefit of the doubt anymore,” Satan sighs.
“Huh?” Mc says, completely vexed by his explanation.
Satan moves to place a hand on her head, his palm lovingly stroking her hair despite the troubled expression that lingers on his features.
“You better start working on your apology, because Lucifer and the others are on their way back now,” he says, only half-joking. “And from what he told me, Levi and Beel had been tearing up every inch of RAD’s campus looking for any trace of you.”
Before she can argue about the matter any further, the sound of 3 pairs of footsteps thunder against the hallway’s stairs and towards her room. The other brothers burst into her room, followed by another flurry of questions and quick embraces. After a while of explaining and apologizing, Mc finally managed to quell the fears of the brothers.
Later that afternoon, they all sat down to have dinner together, the brothers continuing to fuss over an annoyed Mc. Although this ridiculous incident hadn’t ended in complete disaster (aside from the scolding of a life-time from Lucifer), it still worried Mc. She could understand, to an extent, their protectiveness over her, especially after the most recent attempt on her life. However, she was only unresponsive for less than 30 minutes, and all of them had flown into a panic; it was completely out of character for most of the brothers.
She poked at her food, still sore about the lecturing she had received. Hopefully, this was the last incident for a long while. Little did she know, it would get much worse.
==================================
Thank you for reading part 1! Can you tell this is my first time ever writing fanfic? lmaoo
Let me know if you guys wanna see more, because regardless I plan on making 2-3 more chapters! Comments, suggestions, and reblogs are much appreciated!
Tags: @obey-mes-treasure
450 notes · View notes
yeojaa · 4 years
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( NEVER LET YOU GO. )
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You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.
(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)
pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 
tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...
wc.  7.6k.
beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠
author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 
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You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 
It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  
You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  
“Do you take walk-ins?”
You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)
Still, it never hurt to try, right? 
“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”
An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 
You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”
The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 
“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 
(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 
Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”
You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 
For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  
The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 
He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?
“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”
(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)
(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)
“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”
Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 
“Sure.”
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 
When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 
“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”
“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”
(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)
Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  
“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.
“Exactly.”
You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)
If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.
“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.
“You like cats?”
You do.  “She looks like mine.”
“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”
Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  
(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)
(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)
“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  
“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”
He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 
Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 
(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)
“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  
He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.
“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 
You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”
“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 
“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”
“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 
“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 
“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”
It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 
“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 
The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  
(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)
(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  
“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.
One breath.  Two. 
You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 
“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  
Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 
He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.
“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 
There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”
“This is it.  Right here.”
Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 
“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”
You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  
“You’re sparkly.”
“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 
“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  
“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 
“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 
“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 
“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”
Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 
“Was that weird?  I hope not.”
“No, you’re fine.” 
He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  
Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 
Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 
“I think so too.”
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By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 
“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”
(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 
“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 
“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”
He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 
“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  
“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”
“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”
You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.
“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”
A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  
“You like?”  
“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”
The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”
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It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 
Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.
He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  
“So, what’re you thinking?”  
Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”
That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.
“I think so.”
He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”
Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”
“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”
You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  
“I guess I have the itch then.”
“Guess you do.”  
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Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  
You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.
“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”
From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  
“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  
“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”
“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  
(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)
(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)
(You’d been mistaken.)
“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  
“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)
A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”
You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.
Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  
“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”
You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.
“Leaving?”  
(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)
“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”
Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  
“Gonna miss me?”  
Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  
You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”
“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  
You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.
“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  
But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”
“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”
“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  
His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”
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Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  
(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)
“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”
You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  
While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  
“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”
“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”
He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”
You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”
His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.
“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  
“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  
“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”
“That’s what I said!”
It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”
Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.
“Don’t be rude!”  
He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 
“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”
(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)
(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)
“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  
Were you?  You’re not sure.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.
“Should I have expected it?”
Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  
Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.
But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).
“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  
“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.
Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)
“Same difference.”
He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”
“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 
It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 
Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  
(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 
(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 
“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  
“Yeah, so?”
“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  
“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 
You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 
“Do it again.”
And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  
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It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)
(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)
“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 
You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 
(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.
“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.
“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.
It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.
That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)
“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)
“Nope.”  
“Sounds good.”
The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.
You can do this.
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Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.
The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”
You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.
“Thanks.”
You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  
Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  
“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  
You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.
“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  
Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”
You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  
(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)
Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  
You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.
“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  
You say yes anyway.
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“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.
“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  
Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”
“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 
(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)
“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.
The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 
“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.
“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.
Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  
“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  
“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  
Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.
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tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​​​ @codeinebelle​ @xjoonchildx​
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ssadumba55 · 3 years
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Binders (Looney Tunes X FtM! Reader)
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A/N: Literally sorry if this is inaccurate as hell I have not started wearing a binder yet and literally have no idea what entirely happens when you wear one during sports I just wanted to write something cute. Also of course, this is set during Space Jam: A New Legacy so if you haven't seen that don't read under the keep reading thing (spoilers). I know I said a while ago I don't write Looney Tunes, but I have watched both Space Jams and fallen in love. I plan to delve further down the rabbit hole but for now my knowledge is limited to Space Jam so please be gentle if this out of character. Also you can make up a reason how/why you ended up on the team haha. I really didn't think this through I just wrote it. Either way, enjoy!
You looked at yourself in the mirror, it was the halfway point in the game and you were exhausted. You had to play like your life depended on it (because it did) but this entire thing was tiring. Not to mention you could feel the strain from your binder underneath the bright orange and blue Tune Squad jersey. It wasn’t meant to be worn during intense exercise and you were worried this whole ordeal might ruin your chances of getting top surgery.
But you couldn’t go out there without it on. You weren’t flat enough to pass and if they saw your chest there would be questions, questions you weren’t ready to answer. You loved the tunes, but they weren’t exactly the best at being discreet. The idea of being outed to thousands of people in the middle of a life or death basketball game made you shudder.
Glancing over your shoulder to make sure you were really alone, you decided to give yourself a quick break. You pulled the jersey over your head and then the binder, pulling the jersey back over your chest just in case someone decided to barge in. You could easily turn around and pretend to be busy so they wouldn’t see your chest. You sat down, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes.
The burning in your chest was still there but at least now you had room to breathe more than you had before. There was still 10 minutes of half time left (you’d booked it in here as soon as halftime was called), you just had to get through one more half-
“(Y/n)...?” A familiar uncertain voice called and you nearly jumped two feet in the air. Your arms immediately crossed over your chest.
“Daffy! Shouldn’t you be out there? You are the coach, right?” You laughed nervously, stepping in front of your binder still laying across the bench you’d been sitting on. If Daffy was here, it was only a matter of time before the other tunes and worst of all, Lebron James, noticed you two were missing.
The cartoon duck put his hands, wings?, on his hips.
“We’ve been looking for ya, ya didn’t hear tha new looney game plan. Is something tha matter?”
His question was genuinely curious. He clearly didn’t understand why you were hiding away from the rest of the group, he was just worried for his friend and you couldn’t blame him. It did seem a little weird that you were back here, hiding, when you guys were losing the game so badly.
“I- I’ll be right out, just let me finish getting ready,” you promised him, “catch me up on the way out to the court?’
He shrugged and nodded, walking away to give you your own privacy. You sighed, looking down at your binder. Things would’ve been so much easier if you’d just been born a male. You wouldn’t need to risk your body wearing this thing during sports.
You pulled your jersey over your head and began to pull the binder over your chest. Once it was back on, you could feel your body protest immediately, but you didn’t have a choice. You threw your jersey back on and headed out, checking yourself over in the mirror once before.
“Alright, guys. I’m ready…” You walked out, hands on your hips to greet your teammates, only to be met with unreadable expressions on everyone’s faces. It was as if they somehow knew what you were doing and disapproved. You only had a couple minutes before you all needed to be on the court though, so nobody said anything.
The group headed back out and you tried to match the energy, but you had to face the music. Your body was strained, even without the binder this would be a lot to put it through and with it, it was almost unbearable. You took a step toward the court to join the others, and the world felt a little fuzzy.
You must’ve fallen and blacked out, because the next thing you know you’re laying in a bed and somehow you’re not dead. Maybe that had all been a crazy dream. You’d never gotten stuck in a server forced to play basketball with an all powerful algorithm. You’d never worn your binder during it all, you’d never met the Looney Tunes.
For a moment you fooled yourself into believing that. And then a sharp pain came through your body.
You let out a cry of pain and the door was pushed open.
“You’re okay!” You hadn’t been expecting the Tunes to be on the other side of the door… or in this world in general but somehow seeing them made you relax a bit. If they were here that must’ve meant they’d won the game. No thanks to you, but they hadn’t been deleted. They’d defeated Al-G. Lebron had gotten his son back.
“I’m okay. What are you guys even doing here anyway?” You asked, slightly exhausted.
Daffy and Bugs both hopped on the bed, trying to fight for a spot to sit (that apparently needed to be the spot where the other was sitting). You watched them squabble for a bit before Lola pulled them apart.
“Stop that, you’re going to hurt him,” she scolded them, shoving them to the side, then turning to address you.
“We were worried about you. Mr. James was really nice and let us stay for a bit so we could be here when you woke up,” she explained.
“You weren’t supposed ta be wearing that thing on your chest, were you?” Daffy crossed his arms over his own chest and you laughed nervously. They all knew. You wondered who had explained it to them.
“Look, guys. I know you’re mad that I lied to you-”
They all blinked, exchanging looks as if the thought had never even crossed their minds. Your face heated up, had you said something wrong?
“We weren’t mad about your gender, (Y/n), if that’s what you’s thinking. We’re just worried about that chest thing. They said you was wearing it the whole game until you passed out. You know that’s not healthy, right?” Bugs' ears had flopped behind his head.
You laughed nervously. “No it’s not, you’re right. I should’ve known better, I’ll be more careful next time. Sorry guys.”
They seemed to genuinely accept this apology, though they still looked worried. You prodded them to tell you what happened during the game after you passed out and they did relay it in shocking detail, you wished you could’ve been there to see it. After a while, they were ushered out so you could get some rest, Daffy hung back.
“I saved this for ya. Thought ya might want it.” He handed something tattered, it was your binder. They must’ve cut it off to save time. It had cost so much to get and it was all down the drain now. You took it, tossing it across the room into the trash can by the door. You winced as you laid down but it had gotten in and you were satisfied.
“I’ll get a new one, thanks though, Daffy.” You smiled at him and when the two of you met eyes, you could see that genuine curiosity from before. “You want to hang out here for a bit? I know I’m supposed to be resting but I feel like I’ll go insane if I can’t talk to someone.”
Daffy placed his one hand on his hip and brought the other up to tap his beak as if deep in thought, then all of a sudden, he launched himself up on the bed.
“Let me tell ya something, (Y/n). I have been working on something I can’t show tha others yet and you’re tha perfect person to try it out on-”
You felt all warm and fuzzy as he continued to ramble. There was something special about being accepted by a bunch of cartoon characters you’d looked up to for so long. Even though you were certain they didn’t fully understand, having their support and friendship meant the world.
You’d be sad when it was time for them to head back to Looney Tune World.
Oh well, maybe you could visit them sometime.
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tolliver-shaw · 4 years
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Bucky Boy
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Summary: Y/N has a huge crush on Bucky. Her feelings become obvious when he walks her home from a party one night. 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Explicit Language, Drug Use, Alcohol, Smut
Masterlist
You remembered the first time you had laid eyes on Bucky Barnes. You had moved into your dorm the day before. College was a fresh start, and you wanted to take things easy. No big parties and no boys until you had gotten yourself settled. Unfortunately, your roommate Natasha had different plans. She was a social butterfly and somehow had gotten invited to a big bonfire in the woods that weekend.
The two of you bonded over trying to follow the instructions that had been sent to Natasha. You shared the bottle of Malibu that Natasha had bought with her fake ID.
Your hesitance about the party immediately faded when you saw the large group of college freshmen around the bonfire. It seemed like everyone was just as alone as you felt. Before long, the alcohol took hold, and you were chatting with anyone and everyone. It was late in the night when you spotted him. Your eyes locked across the fire for what felt like an eternity. The eternity was quickly over, and he went back to dancing with the girl in front of him.
Over the next few months, you always saw Bucky the same way. A quick bit of eye contact until he went back to his girl of the night. It was without fail a different girl, and they were all beautiful. It wasn’t until October that you really got a chance to meet. You and Natasha had decided to have a chill night in with a few friends when her phone rang.
“Hey Y/N, do you mind if Bucky stops by?” Natasha had asked. She had no clue about your little crush on him and had never noticed the way you would watch him and his girl of the week. You had tried to play it cool and tell her you didn’t care. Now one of your best friends, she knew something was up.
That night you had learned Bucky lived in your building just a few floors above you, and he was roommates with Natasha’s fuckbuddy, Steve. He had no clue who you were, and you pretended that you didn’t know him. Luckily before you had the chance to embarrass yourself, he was gone to go meet some girl from Tinder.
After that night, it felt like you saw Bucky everywhere. He was in the elevator, at the dining hall, and at the library. A quick wave and a smile were all you ever shared.
The next real conversation came months later. It was February, Valentine’s Day weekend to be exact, and Natasha had been invited to a party. It was a whole new group of people and an opportunity to make new friends. Decked out in all pink, the two of you braced the cold and made your way across campus.
The party was absolutely crazy. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think and in the middle of the room was a mass of bodies all dancing with each other. Not drunk enough to feel comfortable, you took a sip out of the White Claw Natasha had given you. It didn’t take long before you spot Bucky. You hadn’t expected him to be here.
Yelling over the music, you turned to Natasha, “Wait, so who invited you to this?”
“I thought I told you already. It was Steve. These are all his friends,” she yelled back and disappeared into the crowd, trying to find Steve. You quickly followed, trying not to get lost in the sea of people. Catching your breath when you appeared next to her, you said a quick hi to Steve.
“Bucky, you’ve met Natasha’s roommate, right?” Steve asked.
“Y/N, right?” Bucky smiled as he confirmed your name. You nod and tried to think of something to say, but the song changed, and Natasha dragged you to dance. The alcohol finally started to kick in, allowing you to let loose. You danced and yelled the words to the songs pumping through the speaker. You loved this feeling of no worries. You loved the feeling of just being a body in a crowd. That feeling lasted for a few songs until Steve made his way over to Natasha. Hating third-wheeling, you found a couch on the side of the room to sit for a minute.
You scanned the room and saw few familiar faces but no one that you could go talk to. You saw Bucky on a different couch with some girl that was practically in his lap. You rolled your eyes. It was a little early in the night for Bucky to find his girl, but at least he was getting some. Continuing your scan, you saw a new face, a cute guy that looked just as much out of his element as you. Almost like he felt you looking, he looked your way and smiled. Taking that as a good sign, you walked over and sat next to him.
“So, parties like this really aren’t your thing, huh?” you asked him.
“More like I’m on babysitting duty,” he responded and points to two drunk guys dancing on a table. “My roommates can’t be trusted to not destroy things when they’re drunk.”
“Oh, trust me, I know the feeling. If my roommate didn’t have her little boy toy with her tonight, I would be doing the same thing,” you told him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“I’m Bruce.” It became apparent that Bruce was shy and a little bit awkward, so you took the lead.
“Do you want to dance, Bruce?”
“Oh… um, I don’t really dance,” he stammered over the words.
“I’ll show you. Come on, have a little faith.” You held out your hand and led him into the thick of it. You put his hands on your waist, and before long, things were getting heated. Song after song, the tension started to build until you finally leaned up and kissed him. You could feel your heart pounding, and as you pulled away from the kiss, you could see the pink that tinged his cheeks.
“Wanna go for a walk?” you whisper yelled in his ear. He nodded quickly, knowing that walk was code to find somewhere to hook up. He took the lead this time, but before the of you could leave the dance floor, one of his roommates intercepted you.
“Bruce, I don’t feel too good,” he slurred before throwing up all over the floor.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I have to help him,” Bruce yelled as he rushed off with his roommate.
Alone and feeling sober, you went back to that couch in the corner. You noticed that Natasha and Steve had disappeared, and Bucky was dancing with a different girl than before. You checked the time on your phone and figured at this point, you might as well go home. You sent a quick text to Natasha telling her your plans and felt a sweaty body plop down on the couch.
“Y/N, how are you doing on this fine evening?” Bucky smirked and lit the joint in his hand.
“I was actually about to head home,” you told him.
“All by yourself?” his brow furrowed, and he looked around the room for Natasha.
“It’s really not that far, and I’m almost sober.” You noticed one of the girls that had been dancing with Bucky shooting daggers at you across the room.
“I can’t let you walk home by yourself. Give me one minute, and I’ll come with you,” Bucky decided, and he disappeared into the crowd. A minute or so later, he was back, joint still in his hand.
“You can’t seriously think I’m going to walk around campus with you while you smoke that.”
“Well, I’m not going to waste it,” he took a drag and then offered you a hit. You obliged, and then he put it out in the nearest ashtray. The walk was quiet and cold, and you started to feel that awkward feeling that always popped up when you were around Bucky.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” he blurted out when you were about halfway home.
“What makes you think that?” your eyes were glued to the sidewalk, worried that if he saw your face, he might realize just how much you actually liked him.
“You never say hi to me when we see each other in public, and tonight I could almost feel the daggers you were shooting at me while I was dancing,” he explained.
“Well, I don’t dislike you. I don’t even really know you. I’m just a little shy.”
“You didn’t seem all that shy with that guy on the dance floor,” he joked, and your eyes shot up to see him laughing.
“Oh, shut up. I was drunk.”
“So, what I’m hearing is I just need to get you drunk, and then we can be best friends,” you gave him a playful shove at that comment. The two of you had reached your building, and then silence in the elevator was much more comfortable than the one before. The elevator reached your floor first, and you were surprised when Bucky followed you getting the elevator.
“I’m not sure how gone you are, but you don’t live on this floor, Bucky boy.”
“Just making sure you make it all the way to your room.” Before you even reached your dorm, you could hear the sounds of Steve and Natasha inside. You let out a groan while Bucky tried to contain his laughter.
“It’s not funny. Now I have to find somewhere to sit for the next hour because I refuse to witness all of that,” you complained.
“Just come upstairs with me,” Bucky offered.
“I’m sure you have other plans,” you mumbled. It was a Friday, so there was no way Bucky didn’t have some kind of plans.
“What else would I have to do?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Not what, but who,” you retorted. Bucky was silent for a moment before he laughed again.
“Wait, are you jealous or something?” he couldn’t stop smirking.
“Oh, get over yourself.” You stormed down the hallway, trying to hide your flaming cheeks. You heard footsteps, and then his arms wrapped around you.
“If you wanted a piece of all this Doll, all you have to do is ask,” he whispered. Despite his attitude, you felt the goosebumps cover your arms with him being that close. His lips started to move over your neck, and you heard yourself moan when he found the sensitive spot below your ear. “I need to hear you ask, Doll.”
“Oh my god, you are so annoying,” you sounded breathless. Bucky started to pull away, and you turned to face him. His blue eyes felt piercing as he looked down at you. “Fine, dammit. I want you, Bucky.”
He moved so fast you didn’t even have time to react. You were pinned against the wall. One of his hands held both of your arms above your head while the other cupped your jaw. The kiss was brutal and bruising, and you had never felt anything like that before. He pulled away and smiled at you heat in his eyes.
“I want you too, Y/N.” He took your hand and rushed towards the staircase, too impatient to wait for the elevator. When the two of you reached his room, you found yourself pinned again, this time against his door, and you could feel him hard against your stomach. He pulled your shirt over your head, and your bra quickly followed. You felt his strong arms lift you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. A quick walk later and, you were thrown onto his bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, and you heard yourself make a noise that could only be described as animalistic.
You straddled him as he sat back against his headboard. Your hands raked through his short hair while he trailed kisses down your neck. He nipped your collarbone and finally attached his lips to one of your nipples. It was the perfect combination of teeth and suction, and you bit down on your lip to contain a moan.
“Don’t get all shy on me now, Doll. You haven’t even seen half of what my mouth can do.” That smirk was back on his face, and you kissed it. Trying to take back control, you reached down to feel him through his pants. He allowed it for a few seconds before flipping you over. “I’m not even close to done with you yet.”
You kicked off your shoes and socks while he pulled down your jeans and thong all at once. He turned your body so he could kneel on the ground and be level with your dripping pussy. His first touch made you watch to scream, and you heard him tease, “All of this wetness, and I’ve barely touched you. Have you thought about this before, babygirl? Thought about me while you touch yourself?”
His fingers trailed up and down your pussy lips, spreading around your wetness but not touching where you needed it most.
“Stop teasing Buck,” you whined, trying to angle your hips to get the much needed friction.
“I think I asked you a question, Doll.” At this point, his face was closer to you, and you could feel his breath slowly driving you insane.
“Fine, yes. I’ve thought about you fucking me seven ways to Sunday. You’re the person I think about when I touch myself, and you have been since the first time I saw you,” you finally admitted.
“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he responded and finally brought his mouth to your pussy. The assault of sensation was almost too much, and the only thing you could do was throw your head back and close your eyes. The combination of his tongue on your clit was nothing like you had ever experienced. Minute by minute, you could feel the coil in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter. Your moans were growing louder and louder, and finally, you were able to form the words, “Bucky, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.”
You could feel his smirk as his fingers continued their rhythm, hitting your g spot over and over again. Finally, the dam broke, and you felt your hands fisting in his comforter as you bit your lip, trying to stay quiet. His fingers slowed as you rode through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and when you finally opened your eyes, you looked down to see him licking his lips.
He leaned over to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his lips. Your hands found the bulge in his pants, and this time he allowed you to rub him through his pants. You had realized by this point that he liked to hear you beg, so your eyes met his, and you told him, “I want you to fuck me, Bucky. Please fuck me right now.”
He groaned, “You don’t have to tell me twice, Doll.” He stripped out of his remaining clothes and grabbed a condom from his top desk drawer while telling you, “On your hands and knees, Doll. That ass has been a distraction for months, and I wanna see it while I fuck you.”
You felt one hand on your hip while the other teased your entrance with his cock. You hadn’t gotten too good of a look at it, but from what you saw, he was a little over average in length and thick as hell. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly entered you. The stretch was a tiny bit painful at first, but the sexy kind of pain. The kind that you knew would leave you sore and remembering this for all of the next day. By the time he was fully sheathed in you, you could hear his erratic breathing behind you.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this Y/N? That first night at the bonfire, you looked over at me, and I was hooked, and then I thought you hated me. I’ve spent so many nights feeling guilty that I would jerk off to some girl that wanted nothing to do with me. Now you’re here, though, and I’m going to ruin you, ruin you for all those other guys that look at you.”
His pace was relentless, and you knew that his hands were going to leave bruises on your hips. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer as his strokes hit the same spot inside of you. You dug your face into the comforter when his hand reached around to stroke your clit.
He wanted to hear you, though, and you felt a yank at your hair as he told you, “I want to hear you Y/N. I want to hear you fall apart for me.”
So, you let him hear you. You screamed incoherent things as you fell apart for the second time that night. He pounded you through your orgasm and then quickly pulled out and flipped you over. His eyes were glassy, and he covered your body with his. Entering you again, you kissed his neck and ran your hands through his hair as he reached his own orgasm. He stayed on top of you for a few moments before you felt him pull out of you. He rolled over and got out of bed to dispose of the condom.
You had no words to describe what you were feeling. You had just experienced the best sex of your life and had Bucky Barnes tell you that he had wanted you for months. You heard Bucky cleaning up in the bathroom and figured it was time for you to leave. You forced yourself up and started to find the different articles of clothing scattered all over the floor. You had put your panties and bra on when the bathroom door opened.
“Leaving so soon?” Bucky asked. He had just a pair of boxers on, and you finally got the chance to appreciate just how beautiful his body was.
“I told Natasha I would be home, so I should go,” you responded. Bucky didn’t seem like the kind of guy who did the whole sleepover thing, so you wanted to give him an out.
“I texted Steve and told him you were here. So, you can stay if you want.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you explained.
“Y/N, I want you to stay. Please stay,” and when he smiled at you this time, you couldn’t tell him no.
458 notes · View notes
shugojima · 3 years
Text
𝗔𝗸𝗮𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗞𝗲𝗶𝗷𝗶 🍋♀️
Sensual play✔︎
Very soft✔︎
Aftercare✔︎
Condom cause he smart✔︎
Praising✔︎
♡︎
You were out with your friends. Those usual party nights you spend together, searching for a boy to fill you up. Yes, that's how much of a hoe you were. You just compensated your depression with dick. Some good dick made you forget about all the problems you had so why not making this a regular?
Dancing with some halfways attractive stranger you felt yourself getting thirsty. No, I don't talk about that kind of thirsty... hoe.
Walking your way to the bar you pushed some people aside and sat down to order your drink.
"Just give me something strong, please."
This lead to nothing. Not with this guy you thought. Also he seemed to be soft asf and you needed to get destroyed so why bother?
"Wanna talk about it?"
A soft but deep voice rang in your ear when you looked to your side and saw a pretty damn attractive guy. Black hair... beautiful, tourquise eyes... glasses... Damn. You had a thing for glasses. You thought those made every man look ten times hotter.
"Oh, sorry. Akaashi." he reached for your hand and you took it.
"Y/n... What made you think I need to talk?"
Smiling a little he said
"You just ran away from a guy you wanted to sleep with for whatever reason but figured it's not worth it, so you came here and ordered a strong drink to forget whatever is on your mind. So I just guessed you'd probably need someone to talk to."
"Well shit. You got me there... what a whore, huh?"
Sipping on your drink you tried to wash away the last blowjob you gave two hours ago as he looked at you kinda worried.
"Do you do that often?"
"Huh?"
"I mean using dick to cope with something."
You looked at him raising a brow.
"What are you my therapist?"
"You're right, I shouldn't have asked that. That was rude of me."
"Well, you certainly give off therapist vibes. With that look on your face, those glasses.. also what are you doing with pen and paper in a bar? Taking notes already?"
You felt you were getting comfortable due to the alcohol. He laughed a little and said
"Valid question, I guess. I'm a manga editor. That's just my worksheet. Usually I do that at home but I felt like I needed a drink."
The way he used his words so carefully and his overall behaviour made you wonder how high his IQ is.
Certainly a smart man and to be honest, that was a rare breed around here.
The two of you kept talking for over two hours and you really had a lot of fun. It wasn't the usual shit talk, nothing too flirty more deep. You also told him that he was right and you were actually just looking for a rough fuck but gave up hope when you noticed that guy was definetely a bottom.
Also... you were a little tipsy by now...
And that's where it started.
"So you think in order to forget everything around you, it has to be extremely rough?"
You looked at him confused. Well sure it has to be?!
"Uhm... yes? I mean... I at least never really enjoyed that soft shit. It's just... ughh idk I just like it hard."
A warm smile on his face your eyes met and his gaze was so intense, it send shivers down your spine. No way you would be able to break eye contact. Wow... just... wow. You felt like he was able to read your mind, look straight through you. He definetely had something about him. Something special that made your mind go blank.
"That isn't true."
"What?"
"I said that isn't true."
Who tf does he think he is? Thinking he knows what you like or not?
Looking into your eyes, no... basically into your soul, he said
"Sensual sex is something you need the right man for. You need to connect on a high level and feel real attraction. Not just to his dick but also to his personality. If you ever come across that man... Think of my words."
You sat there, mouth slightly agape and you didn't know why but his words somehow affected you... that deep voice, the way he spoke, its was erotic. No other way to put it. So you couldn't help but eventually press your legs a little together.
Sure, he noticed your reaction. He's a smart motherfucker after all...
Slowly placing his hand on your thigh he said
"That's what I was talking about. And I only used my words." He winked at you and you were already a puddle.
Blushing hard you almost spilled your drink when he broke eye contact first.
How did he do that? How could he get such a reaction out of you just by talking to you? Not even doing dirty talk, just by stating facts.
"How... I-...how?"
"Skill." He laughed.
TIMESKIP
"Make yourself at home, love. You relax a little I'll be right back."
You nodded and got a little comfortable on his bed. Sitting there you realized you had never been so nervous before you had sex.
Something was different this time and you were sure it was a positive change.
You knew each other for only about 4 hours now and you felt like you were already close friends. It was weird and if you'd believe in such things you'd say he's your soulmate.
The way he spoke about that connection people need to have... that had to be it.
When he came back he had more comfortable clothes on and a bowl with ice cubes in his hand as he sat himself besides you, placing the bowl on the carpet.
"How do you feel?"
"Good, I guess... not that drunk anymore."
"That's great to hear." he smiled as he leaned in whispering with his dark voice
"Because I want you to be sober enough to feel everthing to the fullest. Everything of me."
Gulp
"You're so nervous again just because of my words... You probably really love dirty talk, am I right?"
Eyeing me closely he didn't need an answer tho.
"Nevermind... Your legs are pressed together just like they were two hours ago."
Blushing hard you tried to act normal and keep your composure but that was absolutely impossible when he guided you onto his lap and looked deep into your eyes, through his black framed glasses. His mouth slightly open, not even half an inch from yours.
"If I'm doing it right, you're about to feel heaven, my love."
You wanted to feel his lips on yours so bad so you leaned in but he hold you in place, his hands on both sides of your head.
"No kissing. Heavy breathing can be just as erotic."
And that it was...
You just stayed like this, breathing in and out on opposite times, basically exchanging breaths. The air around you heating up rapidly as you closed your eyes and enjoyed this intense feeling.
"Can you feel the tension?" he breathed into your mouth before kissing you so sensual yet full of lust. He slightly bit your lower lip when he slid his tongue into your warm mouth, one hand on your back, the other slowly running through your soft hair.
You felt nothing less than loved in this exact moment and you already forgot about everything that made you feel so terribly sad earlier.
Never did a kiss feel so good.
When your slick lips seperated he leaned to your ear and whispered
"I can hear your heart beating."
Wanting to get rid of his glasses you stopped him in his tracks.
"Can you... leave the.. glasses on?"
Smirking knowingly he put the glasses with his middle finger back up the bridge of his nose.
"You like that, hm?"
"Y-yes... they.. look good on you."
"Note taken."
Carefully placing you with your back on his sheets he gave you a soft kiss on your forehead before he stood up.
"What.. are you-"
"I'm sorry, love. I don't do it raw."
"Oh r-right.."
Rummaging something in his drawer he put the shiny package on his bed side table before crawling up on top of you.
Your heart was beating out of your chest and you didn't even know why. He was a stranger after all. Someone you just met and still he made the butterflies in your belly you didn't even know you had, go fucking wild.
Your hips between his legs he slowly started to unbutton his grey and blue plaid shirt when you looked away blushing.
"Hey, eyes on me." He commanded softly, continuing with the last 3 buttons.
I'm sure my eyes had hearts in it by now when I saw his ripped body. Fuck... he was so hot. Those toned abs, perfectly on display with the low light that shone on them, leaving a little shadow under every muscle.
"My god..."
"And you wanted to look away in shame."
He smiled when he threw his shirt on the soft carpet near his bed and leaned in on you.
Kissing you again he carressed your deep red cheek and whispered
"Let me show you what real sex feels like."
You got the chills when he started to trail a path of soft kisses down your neck and sucked a little on your skin every now and then. Slight gasps leaving your throat he breathed heavily against your skin.
"You're so... so sensitive to my touch... "
"Wait.." You breathed out, wanting to get rid of your shirt as well so he could kiss you further.
Quickly taking it off so he can continue making you go crazy.
Holding you in this half sitting position he asked you if he could take off your bra as well when you nodded.
Skillfully opening it with one hand while his other cupped your cheek. He didn't stop kissing you until he layed you back down and took a moment to fully capture your feautures.
"You look absolutely beautiful, Y/n."
"Thank.. you, Akash-"
"Keiji."
Leaning down on you again his soft fingertips explored your body. Carressing along your neck, your collarbones, your breasts... before he pinched your hard buds slightly. Moaning softly you closed your eyes to make the feeling even more intense.
"Do you feel comfortable, love?"
"Y-yes... nghhh.. very much so.."
A warm smile on his face he reached for the bowl with ice cubes and put one into his mouth. Playing around with it a little until it completely melted he started licking circles around your bud. His cold tongue driving you crazy when he sucked slightly.
"Nghh... K-keiji.. that feels so good.."
Feeling his smile against your skin his hand found its way down your belly... to your skirt.
Hovering above you again he kissed you once more.
"You know where else that feels amazing?"
Melting another ice cube in his mouth he lifted your hips from the sheets and slowly took of your skirt along with your soaked panties.
Going down on you his cold tongue parted your slick lips making you throw your head back and moan loudly.
"Right here."
"Fuck."
He licked slowly but greedily along your wet slit, evetually sucking on your clit before he slid a finger inside and looked up at you.
"You're soaking wet, love. I thought you can only enjoy it the hard way?"
Inserting another finger you arched your back as you grinded on his fingers. Desperate for more.
Desperate for him.
"Keiji... I- I need more..."
"Is that so?" he smiled, curving his fingers inside making you scream as he hit your sweet spot.
"M-more... please!"
Pulling out slowly he licked your juice off them
and opened his belt before he stepped out of his jeans and pulled down his boxers.
"Holy shit."
Chuckling he went "Thanks I guess?"
He reached for the shiny package on the little table and opened it with his teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock.
Can we talk about how fucking big he is? Lord help you were thinking of calling an ambulance in advance.
"You know... I don't have to be rough on you to have you drowning in pleasure. There's no need to be when you know which bottons to push and when."
He said as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when he leaned in on you and was close to your lips again, his eyes drilling holes into yours you felt his tip at your entrance.
"Right now you're craving my cock so bad that you'd basically do everything just to feel it rubbing against your walls. And I like that a lot. Not that I'd dare taking adventage of your miserable situation."
"Put.. it in... please, Keiji! I can't anymore!"
You whined as you tried to lower yourself onto his length just for him to grab your hips and hold you in place.
"Why are you so impatient, my love?" he breathed against your lips, pushing just his tip inside.
"Nghhh fuck! Please!!! Please I need more, Keiji!!"
"Remember this moment."
One deep thrust inside you screamed in heavenly pleasure, your eyes shut close and your back arching.
"OHH MY...GOD!"
Smirking at your reaction he took your hands and intertwined your fingers, holding them down besides your head when he started moving slowly.
"To me at least... It looks like you're enjoying it a lot."
His thick cock stretching you out to the limit, low growls leaving his mouth as the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the squelching sound of your soaked pussy filled the room.
You were in heaven.
He brought heaven to you.
An endless rush of endorphines fluted your body as he teached you his way of pleasure.
He knew exactly what he did, how to do it and when. Noticing every little reaction coming from you and knew what it meant.
This man was a drug.
And you were about to get fucking addicted.
♡︎
Guys... I had to do a cut. This is getting sooo long and I really love how it turned out.
It's so sensual and sweet my heart is a puddle.
I will upload the second part as soon as possible.
Soft Akaashi is gold
😩🛐
139 notes · View notes
winterscaptain · 4 years
Text
spoiled.
Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic
a/n: happy valentine’s day! 
words: 2.1k warnings: language, over-the-top valentine’s day shenanigans
summary: “the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” - nicholas sparks. au!february 2012
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?
Aaron leaves rather early in the morning, leaving you in bed complaining with only a kiss for your trouble. 
When you eventually get up, on track to be about fifteen minutes late to the federal building, you find a pair of post-its on the fridge. 
Tumblr media
Always the romantic. 
+++
The evening rolls around and finds you on the couch with Jess and Jack. 
“You gonna start getting ready?” Jess asks. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.” 
You look over at her. “Wait. He told you what we’re doing?”
She nods. “Yeah. You have no idea. He hasn’t done a big Valentine’s Day thing since he surprised Haley in her senior year of college. He’s been looking for an excuse.” 
That’s terrifying. 
“Guess I better get ready then.” 
Jack’s got a funny little smile on his face, but you ignore it. You’re sure the Hotchner boys are in cahoots, but it’s not really worth it to try and wiggle anything out of him. 
You head to the master bedroom to get dressed, throwing off your slouchy day-off clothes in favor of something that can take you to a fancy dinner and whatever else Aaron has planned for your evening.
+++
You walk out of the apartment, hearing Jess lock the door behind you. When you reach the front of the apartment complex, Aaron closes the car door as he hops out, meeting you halfway to the sidewalk. 
“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
He’s wearing a black button-up, black slacks, and his favorite pair of black oxfords. It’s a sharp look and one he knows you love. 
“You’re looking quite dapper yourself, sir.” 
The boyish grin on his face melts your heart and you take the arm he offers. Like a real gentleman, he opens the door for you and makes sure you’re inside before closing you in.
+++
The drive is quiet. You ask about the office once or twice, but it’s clear there’s nothing significant to report. 
“So...what are we doing tonight?” 
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “Dinner. And a few other things.” 
+++
When he says ‘dinner,’ he’s not joking. The restaurant is a high-end, no-prices-on-the-menu type of place. The lighting is low, the environment cozy and quiet. 
He must have planned this months ago. Reservations are like gold on Valentine’s Day. 
Aaron’s squinting at the menu across from you. It makes you laugh. 
“Need a flashlight and your reading glasses?”
“Shut up.” It comes with his own laugh, but he’s still squinting. 
You finally decide on something and order, trusting Aaron’s taste in wine. When the waiter leaves, Aaron reaches across the table for your hand. 
“Okay,” he says. You recognize his tone - it’s professional, like he’s starting a press conference. “No work, no kids, no serial killers.” 
You smile, waiting for him to give you a little more context. 
“How are you?” 
What a question. 
How often does the answer to that question not include work, kids, or serial killers? 
Not very. 
“I’m good.” You mean it. “I’m really good.” 
There’s a small smile on his face. “Why?”
Are you profiling me now, Hotch? 
Deciding to give him shit, you ask, “Why am I good, or is that a more general existential question?” 
He rolls his eyes and you relent. 
“Alright. Well…” You take a breath. “There are a lot of things to be happy about. You, for one thing.” 
“Me?” He asks. He looks genuinely surprised. 
Fool. 
“Yes, you.” You squeeze his hand. “You are my best friend and somehow - somehow - I’ve landed you as my partner. I am living out everything I dreamed of at twenty-five.” 
That pulls another smile from him. “Really?” Again, he looks genuinely surprised. 
Can’t believe I’ve never told this to him. 
Ridiculous
“Oh yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed. I had a huge crush on you - instantly. Derek gave me nothing but hell once he figured it out.” You pause. “Do you remember that time on the plane, really early on, when I woke up and everyone thought I had a nightmare?” 
Looking a little confused by your change in direction, and you don’t blame him. 
“I think so? I remember we all felt so bad.” He shrugs. “We all get them, of course - still do - but we were worried about you.”
“Right. So -” 
Aaron’s head tilts to the left as he interrupts you. “Did you say ‘everyone thought’ it was a nightmare?” 
Your face gets hot and you suddenly regret bringing this up at all. “Yeah. I’m getting to that.” 
With an embarrassed huff, you continue. “So, it wasn’t a nightmare.” 
“No?” The question comes accompanied by a frown. 
“No. It was a sex dream. About you.” 
You can tell he’s doing his best to hide his smile for your benefit, but there’s a threatening dimple that gives him away and you’ve simply known him too long for him to get away with anything. 
“Really?” His tone is neutral, polite, but you can hear the humor behind the apparently bland interest. 
“Yep.” 
“What - if I may ask - was it about? Specifically?” 
You take a breath and adopt the same kind of ironic professionalism as Aaron. “Well, now it doesn’t seem so notable, because i’m more than familiar with your, um, technique.” 
And it’s true. Though you hardly remember the details of the dream anymore - it's been years - you know that real life doesn’t even come close. 
Aaron pulls his hand from yours and steeples his fingers under his chin. He’s the picture of interest, so you continue. 
“The key points are as follows -” 
He holds up a finger, and you stop. “On second thought,” he says. “I think this recollection would be better served by a demonstration.”
You nod. “You’re probably right.” 
“I’ll pencil it in.” 
You grin at each other for a moment, the back-and-forth of it so deeply on brand you can’t help but steep in it for a second. 
“So,” he says, “as you were saying before…?” 
“Right.” 
Back to business. 
“I had a huge crush on you and could swear you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” 
Never one to forgo an opportunity to compliment him when he’s not actively swatting at you, you continue. 
“In the lecture you gave with Gideon and Derek, I knew you were in charge before you said anything. Even though Gideon had the years and experience on you, it was clear that everything came through you.” You attempt to explain the inarticulable. “There’s a kind of steadiness - one you still have - that radiates off of you.” 
The two of you sit in that for a moment. 
You continue. “And then, of course, when we met again I had to really focus on not making an ass of myself in front of Strauss.” 
He laughs. His laughter makes you laugh, of course. It’s so much higher than his speaking register, so delightful in its unexpectedness. 
“Okay, okay.” You stop, covering your face with your hands. “Okay this is cheesy. Promise not to laugh.” 
His eyebrows rise and he forces his mouth into something that only threatens a dimple once more. 
“When you shook my hand in Radner’s office, there was this crazy jolt of energy or something that just flew up my arm. It was wild. I’ve never been able to forget it, almost like a flashbulb memory.”
As promised, he doesn’t laugh. There is, however, a kind of wonder in his eyes when he replies, “You felt that, too?”
+++
After dinner (and dessert), Aaron takes your hand and ushers you into the car when you leave the lod. He doesn’t turn the way you expect. 
“Where are we going?” 
The dashboard casts a glow on his face. You can still spot a dimple in the dark. “You’ll see.” 
+++
Your disbelief only grows when you go deeper into the city and pull up to the Hay-Adams. The valet opens the door for you, while Aaron hands over the keys to his SUV. Once all the details are covered, you take his arm again and let him guide you into the lobby. 
It’s expansive. The Hay-Adams is, of course, one of the most historic buildings in the district and considered one of the best hotels on the East Coast by people who know of these things. 
Aaron confirms the reservation and gets the room cards before promptly finding the elevator and swiping in for the seventh floor. You look down, remembering your attire at the last minute. 
“Aaron, I don’t have my go bag.” 
He shakes his head, still looking forward. “Don’t need it.” 
You scoff. 
He doubles down. “Do you trust me?”
Stupid question. 
“Of course.” 
“Go with it. I’m trying to spoil you.” He turns and presses his lips to yours, taking your face in his hand. Against your mouth, he says, “Let me.” 
+++
The room is gorgeous - a one bedroom suite with a living room, balcony, and kitchenette, a huge couch dominates the center of the open living area, opposite an impressive television. Through the open door, you catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed. 
This must have cost a small fortune. 
As if reading your mind, Aaron takes your hand and tugs you forward. You land against his chest and he smiles at you. “Don’t think too hard. Come with me.” 
You follow him out to the balcony and the view takes your breath away. The White House, well-lit in the D.C. nighttime, sits right across the street. From here, you can see Lafayette Square - beyond it, almost the whole city. 
When you come back to yourself, you realize there’s an outdoor loveseat and a small table, holding champagne (on ice) and chocolate-covered fruit. 
Champagne, chocolate, fancy dinner… The whole nine. 
Spoiled indeed. 
Aaron sits, pulling you down beside him. He pours two glasses of champagne - mostly for show, and moves the bucket to the ground. The fruit goes off to the side table and his feet go up on the small table, crossing at the ankles. You curl up against him, tucking under his arm. 
“Do you like it? Too much?” 
You can hear the genuine insecurity behind his cheeky question. You press a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love it. It is too much, but it’s very thoughtful. You twist to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” 
With that, the two of you settle in, quietly enjoying the company and the quiet. It’s cold, but with the outdoor heater, it’s comfortable enough that you don’t need your coat. 
“Okay.” 
Aaron sits up. “Yes?” 
“You asked, so it’s only fair. No work, no kids, no serial killers. How are you?” 
He pulls you over so you’re sitting across his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his button-up before placing it over his heart. 
“I’m good,” he says. “I’m really good.” 
“Why?” You feel a little like a parrot, but you’re sure that’s what he’s going for. 
“I can’t...quite articulate how lucky I feel.” 
That’s relatable. 
“I’m happy to be here with you.” He shakes his head - a pensive gesture. “I never thought I could make it here again.” 
“Where?” You ask. 
“In love, happy, facing a future that doesn’t scare me. My son is happy, safe...I wasn’t sure I'd ever have any of that again after losing Haley.” 
He pauses and you can feel a little sardonic smile. You don’t have to see it to know it’s there. His next admission, though, surprises you. 
“I accepted that I would be a bystander in your life a long time ago. I accepted that I would likely remain a widower, a single father. I knew you’d be around and that I would be your friend, but I made peace with the idea that I’d never have you right here.” He squeezes you twice, in time with his words. It makes you smile. 
He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “I’m not sure it’ll ever sink in.” 
You feel much the same, but it's kind of at once alarming and amusing to hear him so beautifully articulate feelings that so closely resemble your own. 
You lean back to look at him. “I’m glad you were wrong.”
He places a gentle finger under your chin and kisses you, long and languid. It’s a promise. After a little while, he leans back, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. 
“Me too.”
+++
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script-nef · 4 years
Text
Confession in the moonlight | Gojou Satoru
Category: fluff
2.2k words; Hatsumoude date [6/6]
Happy New Year everyone!
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← Previous chapter | Masterlist
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Bells and chatter are almost deafening even this late into the night. Families and friends are gathering here, mingling and pushing against each other in the narrow path leading up to the shrine. There are so many carts lined up on the sides, owners screaming their products and shouting over another.
And you're walking through the crowd with the one person who you want to avoid the most in the world.
Thanks to the event which is now dubbed "The Alcohol Incident That Can Never Happen Again", you learned about a couple of things in the following days.
First, alcohol is the enemy. This is ironclad and nothing will ever shift your opinion on it. Alcohol. Is. The. Enemy. None of it will ever touch your lips again.
Second, you discovered what type of a drunk you are. The clingy, bubbly one who has the misfortune of remembering practically everything that happened. Worst combination ever. Because your brain wants you to die from embarrassment. The only plus is that you don't feel like throwing up and you don't have headaches. Whatever Gojou fed you worked wonders. 
Just thinking his name makes you want to slam your head into a wall. 
Facing him again after that has proven to be a challenge. The memory of what happened on that day intrudes every time you see his face and then you have to take a break to calm down. Faking ignorance and acting as though you remember nothing from the night was your choice. Which was a bad choice since you’re not known for your acting skills and you also have the misfortune of wearing your heart on your sleeve. Which brings on the next problem.
Third, you… seem to have feelings for Gojou. The romantic kind. Like, the boyfriend-girlfriend kind. When you woke up the next day, it was probably the most clear your mind had been in months. Alcohol is a confusing drink. Still, you're never going to go near it again. Making a fool out of yourself once is enough.
Lastly, perhaps most importantly, you basically confessed to him. While drunk. And then went to sleep.
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Sitting up in bed the morning after, hair everywhere and jacket still on, you did an analysis. 
It's like a typical light novel cliché. A guy and a girl, co-workers or something like that, comfortable with each other, hangs out all the time, one major event or couple of minor events happens, the girl falls in love with the guy or vice-versa, confession and then happy ending. 
It all kind of made sense with your new, alcohol-cleaned brain. The fluttering feelings, the spike in heart rate, the uncontrollable blushing and noticing physical contact more. There’s a reason why he’s so comfortable to be around, why you practically entrusted your life in his hands. And you literally said to him once, you think in the movie theatre, that he would make a good boyfriend. To his face. Who says that? Embarrassment turns into self loathing. It makes you wonder how you didn’t notice it last time.
With this new shocking revelation, you didn’t know what to do. Confess? If there is even the slightest bit of chance he doesn’t like you back and rejects you, life will be hell to live. Because you live in the same goddamn place, work together and all of your friends are his friends.
So two options. Three outcomes. One: you confess and he accepts and everything is fine. Ideal. Two: you confess and he rejects you and so you leave the place, never come back again and work in a farm halfway across the world by changing your identity. That sounded reasonable enough. Three: you don’t confess and somehow act naturally around him. This has problems because, again, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s still very tempting. More so than the second one. This is perhaps the most difficult decision you’ve made in your life.
So you turned to the one person you can vent this kind of thing on. Shouko. Who looked at you like you were either stupid or dense. Maybe both. Definitely both. It was quite amazing what she could express while moving the least amount of facial muscles. 
“So… yeah. I think I like Gojou and I don’t know which of the options I should take. Help me?” 
She just stared at you. With a deadpan face that has all the stress and exasperation in the world. You pride yourself in being able to read other’s faces quite easily. Rubbing her fingers over her eyes and groaning for a bit, she eventually took her phone out and dialled a number. The line rang for a bit.
“Ijichi? You owe me 10,000 yen.” Clicking off the phone even before hearing a response, Shouko turned her focus back to you. “You seriously don’t know?”
“Don’t know what? What was the phone call about?”
“That he likes you? That’s he’s insufferable because of that? You seriously don’t know?” She inched closer and closer until her face was right in front of yours. Shouko is seriously scary when she’s angry, like a sleeping lion. And you just somehow poked her. “Look at me in the eyes. You seriously never realised?”
“Um, what?”
“The dates. Remember when I couldn’t go to the movie for Howl because someone came in? I immediately gave it to him because I owed him a favour and he wanted to spend time with you. The time he went shopping with you by flying. Do you know why he offered that in the first place?”
“I mean, it was getting late… And I was in a bad mood so— oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. Do you get it now?” 
“So then… the dinner, that was also…”
“A date.” Sighing, she sits back on the sofa, letting her head drop onto the backrest. Thoughts jumble inside your head, all of them slowly clicking into place.
“Wait, so. He likes me?”
Annoyed moans are her response as she thuds her head into the furniture. Something along the lines of “Why me.” could be heard.
“So him inviting me to hatsumoude today is also a date?” Her hand waves lazily in the air.
“Yes, it is. Tell me you accepted.” You nodded, then realised that she can’t see from her position.
“I did. I can’t really say no to him.” She makes a gagging sound.
“Good. Finally. So just confess to him then. He’ll accept, you’ll be happy, he’ll be happy, and we’ll all finally be free.”
“Free of what.”
“Your denseness.” She snaps, sitting back up. Fire burns in her irises. “It’s like the Chinese story, the one with the shield and the spear. You’re the shield, oblivious to every single one of his advances and he’s the spear, never giving up. And we’re the spectators who are bored and tired. So dress up in your prettiest clothes and go.”
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And that’s why you’re walking up the steps to the shrine, swaddled in clothing. Gojou is right next to you, enjoying mochi he bought from somewhere and humming. He’s humming while you’re having one of the worst crises of your life. God, you envy his ability to keep cool. 
Making every effort to keep calm and not look move your head in his general direction, you finally arrive at the bell. The sound resonates clearly into the night. Coins clink into the offering box. Two bows, two claps, pray, one bow. Your wish is the same as always, with one more sentence. Gojou copies you, mochi finished and trash discarded.
The way down is much easier, your heart a little lighter. Maybe the rest of the night will be fine. 
This is a delusion and you realise it as soon as Gojou opens his mouth.
“What did you wish for?” His voice cuts through the commotion, nudging for your attention. You flinch a bit at the closeness but try to regain your composure. If he saw it, he doesn’t comment on it.
“I—I  wished for everyone I love to survive the fight with Sukuna and have a peaceful retirement. Especially Ken-chan.” In actuality, you did wish for that but also for a way to confess. He doesn’t need to know that yet. Your voice trembles a bit, betraying you. 
“You do know that saying it out loud negates the wish right?” There’s a delighted tone in his voice, like he’s happy he baited you. How is a person this childish? And what does that say about you, the person who likes him? A hand ruffles your head before you have a chance to lament your heart. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your wish comes true.” Your heart thumps.
It’s so unfair how he always knows what to say. It’s so unfair that it’s having this kind of effect on you. Your earlobes grow hot and you scramble to find a reply.
“What did you wish for then?” He shifts his head to look at you. “Yeah, I know. It won’t come true if you say it out loud, but if you can protect everyone and save the human race, I’m sure it's not up to the gods or spirits whether or not your wish comes true.”
He seems to contemplate it. Then nods. 
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not up to them.” 
“See? So what’s yo—”
“It’s up to you.”
You nearly trip over one of the stone tiles, flailing for balance. Of course Gojou comes to your rescue, hands gently gripping at your sides. The first problem here is that your reaction was too obvious. You can’t feign ignorance now, like you didn’t hear him over the crowd. The second is that you just made a fool of yourself. Which leads to the third problem. 
He is way too close. 
“You okay?” And now he’s whispering. The blushing worsens. “Come on, let’s go.”
It’s a clearing in the forest a bit away, a smaller dilapidated shrine on the edge of it. A small pond is in the middle, fireflies skimming over the surface and glimmering beautifully. 
“There you go.” He guides you to the steps of the ruined shrine, letting you sit down but stays standing. Shifting on his feet, neck cracking as he rolls it. Nervous energy leaks out of him. Wait, is this— 
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve rehearsed this like, hundreds of times but my heart is kind of going crazy.” So is yours. He comes back to you then lowers himself to one knee. Your heart stops. “I’m not proposing. Not yet. I’ve heard dating comes first.”
One of your hands slots into his. He removes his blindfold, revealing his cerulean eyes to you for the second time. Breath hitches and he most definitely heard it because his smile, no matter how tentative it was, becomes full and true.
“Let’s get to the main point straight away. I like you.” The words burn you alive and you try to take your hand back but his grip is strong. So you do the next best thing. Averting your face. “I know you do too. I also know you remember the night. Your acting skills are terrible. And Shouko told me.” If you’re not drowning in mortification and something that feels vaguely like hope, you might hit him. And Shouko.
But the second you face him, you see him. The heart-gripping worry in his eyes, the way he’s smiling to cover for his anxiousness, the light trembling in his fingers. It’s so different to his normal self, the aloof and laid-back aura completely dissipated. This is what you do to him?
“I’m not good at this. But I mean every word when I say that you’re the kindest, cutest and the most loveable person that I’ve ever met. You put up with me, and that’s saying a lot.” Protest is at the tip of your tongue, ready to argue that he should stop being so hard on himself and that you genuinely like spending time with him, but he recognises the look on your face and laughs delightedly. “See? So ready to come to my defence, even if it’s me you have to fight. Everyone’s fed up with me to some extent, and I know you are as well, but you still put up with me. That’s what made me fall for you. That unlimited kindness.”
He presses a kiss to the palm of your hand and it feels like he’s giving you his heart at the same time. Love shines in his eyes and clogs at your throat. A shuddering breath passes over the both of you. But then the cheeky smile comes back.
“I think that’s enough to sweep you off your feet. Is your heart beating fast?” A nod. “Hands clammy?” A nod. “Think you can manage granting me my wish?”
A wave of calm washes over. Gojou’s words, filled with sincerity and bare hearted emotions, turn into butterflies that travel to every inch in your body. It’s delightful and there’s no way you can live without hearing it again.
The distance between your lips close, and you swear your heart synchronises with his when they finally touch. 
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batsandbugs · 4 years
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The Great IKEA Game
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Chapter 1 - Meet the Players
Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever. 
For the better, if she was being honest. 
She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise. 
They looked at each other in shock for a moment. 
“Are… are you ok-”
“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake. 
“Sorry,” she whispered. 
He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked. 
The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head. 
He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family. 
It was absurd. 
Marinette found herself instantly amused. 
“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts. 
The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.  
Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?” 
“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged. 
“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but… 
“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.” 
“Why?” 
He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.” 
"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.   
He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation. 
“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?” 
A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.” 
It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.
Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?” 
The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?” 
Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.” 
“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.” 
Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.” 
He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.” 
The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?” 
Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.” 
His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?” 
Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.” 
“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.” 
She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.” 
“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed. 
Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone. 
“Who’s that?” she asked quietly. 
“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.” 
“Why both?” 
“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing.  He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.” 
Jason moved closer to their showroom. 
“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy. 
“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom. 
“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy. 
“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...” 
“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding. 
“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?” 
Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly. 
There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight. 
Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.” 
“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.” 
Chapter 2 
Chapter 3 
Chapter 4
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coeurdastronaute · 3 years
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HSAU: College Part 1
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Previously on HSAU
Morning started the same, every day, rain or shine. Four thirty in the morning, the alarm beeped in the small attic room, and under one section of angled roof, where a pile of blankets slumbered, an arm would appear and slap around until the offending noise stopped. It was precise and methodical and never changed, six days a week.
Lexa ran her hands over her face after pushing off the blankets, but stayed in bed just a few seconds longer, orienting herself. Though it was still summer, the sky hadn’t brightened just yet, and the night was disinterested in ending anytime soon. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and cracked her joints and yawned before grabbing an old shirt to throw over her sports bra and slipping on a pair of shorts. The fan in her window hummed along while the crickets outside groaned in the heat. Outside, the neighborhood she grew up in was quiet and still. A dog barked and calmed itself. No cars moved at all. Every picket fence and yard with signs and flags slumbered before dawn came, and Lexa was the first among the living. July was awake before the dawn as well. It shook off the night from its coat and stretched forward and backward before loping into the streets, covering every surface with a few inches of thick heat. Without the sun, the heat rose up straight from the ground itself, radiating out into the world. Lexa paused halfway through her run and tied her shoe as the light changed for no cars at all. As she stood she dried her forehead on her shoulder and started off again. Her run got insanely longer with the new summer route that took her out towards her uncle’s garage. For no reason at all. “Where’s Bear?” “I let him sleep in,” Lexa smiled before distracting herself with wiping the sweat from her face with her old shirt. “I ran here though, so that’s impressive.” “Yeah, I mean... no Bear though,” Clarke shrugged and hustled about the café, preparing for the opening. It took just a second, but somewhere between flipping the sign on the door and moving to make the second round of coffee, Lexa grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and tugged her back, kissing her like she had been waiting to do since she started her run. “Your mom still at that conference?” “Until Thursday.” “Want me to help you pack?” “Why don’t you let me actually pack and then come over to watch a movie or something,” Clarke chuckled and pushed at her girlfriend’s chest. “I am a great helper.” “No you’re not,” she smiled and ran her hand up Lexa’s neck, pushing her body closer as she found herself stuck between the counter and her quarterback. “I could barely walk after the last time you came over to help.” The words made her shiver, but Lexa grinned as she swallowed and ran her hands over Clarke’s hips. “But you were way more relaxed.” “I can’t wait until practice starts again. You need to work off all that energy somewhere else.” “How about another training session tonight?” The puppy dog eyes were in full effect, distracting her from everything else. The jingling of the bell at the door made them pull apart. Lexa smiled politely, clearing her throat as her girlfriend adjusted her apron. Just a few more days, and they would be gone, away from the safety of their little town. The entire summer had been spent avoiding thinking about it too much, had been spent disappearing to float down the river, to watch movies much too late in Lexa’s room until her mother would come home late from work and politely remind them of the hour, to drop Aden off at his science camp and disappear together to the mountains and spend the day hiking, which inevitably ended with lounging in the shade atop the hill. Lexa took her seat, at her table, and waited until Clarke finished with the first few customers of the morning. Miraculously, without even having to order, a water appeared, with a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Just like nearly a year ago, the quarterback sat there and studied plays as the morning rush came and went. Most of her time was spent watching the girl with blonde hair and cheeks that had that damn smile. For the life of her, Lexa couldn’t figure out how she was going to find the motivation to run when she moved to New Haven. XXXXXXXXX
The evening was growing long in the tooth, but neither party could be bothered to let it end without a fight. And even though a mother made her presence known from time to time, it didn’t deter the two sweethearts in the attic hideaway. Nothing really could, with the late-July heat settling on the roof, angry and annoyed. 
“I don’t think I’ve seen your room this clean ever before,” Clarke observed as she hunkered down on the bed while Lexa finished packing and straightening up. “It wasn’t ever dirty, it just feels… I don’t know. Less lived in.” 
“I wasn’t going to leave a mess for my mom.” 
“I know. I just don’t like any of it.” 
“You’ll be doing the same thing in like six weeks.” 
“Oh no. I’m definitely leaving a mess for my mom.” 
Lexa chuckled and zipped up another duffle bag before tossing it on the pile. She gave her room a finally glance and felt a twinge of sadness in the base of her heart, a tiny little tug on her body that felt like she was already gone. She fell into her bed beside her girlfriend and smiled when a hand pushed hair away from her face. 
“You’re going to go across the country tomorrow,” Clarke whispered. “And I will miss you. But you are going to do something spectacular.” 
The quarterback slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, her thumb touching the warm skin there. She liked the feeling of her, and she wanted to remember it. 
“I’ll miss you badly.” 
“Obviously. I’m incredibly missable.” 
Lexa smiled as Clarke held it there and kissed her eagerly, without holding anything back, to try to say what she couldn’t. Hands gripped on her hips and she pushed forward toward Lexa. Hands moved to her neck and she dug her hands into her girlfriend’s hair. 
“I’ll come see you when you move in,” Lexa promised. “Just a three hour train ride and I can be there.” 
“And you’ll work very hard earning that starting spot this summer. No distractions. And if you get a chance,” Clarke grinned and slide her hand up her girlfriend’s stomach. “To get in shape.” 
“You oogling me is really good motivation.” 
“I don’t oogle,” Clarke shook her head as lips moved to her neck. She felt Lexa settle atop her and closed her eyes, pulling her closer, always closer. “I appreciate.” 
“You’ll have a good summer, right? Not miss me too much.” 
“I’ll miss you plenty, but I’ll try.” 
“Will you, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, her lips a little puffier, her eyes a little more dilated, her hands touching skin and aching for more. “Would you do me a favor?” 
“Your mom is still making dinner. We have like an hour before dinner. I plan on doing a few favors for you.” 
“No, no, not that,” she shook her head. “Well. Kind of that. But I just… I want you to have a good time this summer, and not think about me. But while you’re doing that, could you watch out for Aden? He gets… he gets quiet sometimes. And my mom. She works too hard. I don’t want to leave them.” 
Her eyes were a little glassy with the confession and Clarke pressed her hand to her chest and nodded with a smile before kissing her softly. 
“I’ll keep an eye on them.” 
“You have no idea how good that is to hear.” 
“I can imagine.”
“Any favors I can do for you?” Lexa ventured with a smile. 
“One or two.” 
XXXXXXXXXX
It wasn’t easy for the first week, but Clarke kept telling herself that if she could make it one week, then she could do it, without a doubt. As hard as it was, she clawed her way through the first seven days without Lexa almost intact and only cried a handful to a dozen times. 
They survived with FaceTime and texts and calls. She got to see a lot of Lexa’s new world with tons of pictures and a lot of eager explanations, and Clarke made sure to keep plans with friends, electing to fake it and hopefully find some moments of happiness. And she did, swimming with friends, parties by the river, working at the café. It was all doable when she didn’t take any time to think about it. 
And every night when she talked with her girlfriend on the phone, Clarke had something to tell her that she did that day to keep herself busy. And she got to hear about how crazy training was, and how awesome the team was, and how exciting being on her own seemed to be. Clarke could handle listening to Lexa talk for hours. 
But there was something she needed to do, and she waited until the first milestone of a week to muster up the courage to do it. 
“Clarke, honey, it is so good to see you,” Gabby opened the door and smiled, wiping her hands in the towel on her shoulder before hugging the girl at her door tightly. 
“It’s good to see you, too,” Clarke sighed, melting into the motherly embrace. 
“I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken.” 
“Is it cooked?” 
“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she ushered her guest inside. 
The house smelled warm and delicious, and somehow felt a little different without Lexa’s bag of gear by the door and her cleats clogging up the entryway. The noises were still the same, some music playing over the small radio on the kitchen counter and Aden’s music thumping overhead, but there wasn’t a happy girl about to lope down the steps at the sound of the door and kiss the guest, and everyone knew it. 
“How have you been? How’s summer so far?” Gabby asked as Clarke followed toward the kitchen. 
“Not too bad. Normal stuff. Working and preparing to leave.” 
“Ah, to be young and with the summer ahead,” she wistfully sighed before taking the chicken out of the oven. 
Her phone rang, and Clarke saw the familiar pep in her step to answer it after she looked at the clock, familiar with the schedule Lexa liked to keep. 
“Hey, kid. How are you?” she smiled at her phone as her daughter’s face popped on the screen. “Your timing is great. Look who just showed up for dinner.” 
Clarke waved at her girlfriend from the counter earning a huge smile. 
“Make sure the chicken is cooked,” Lexa offered.  
“Way ahead of you.” 
“How was practice today? You still sore in the shoulder?” 
“It was great. I got some time in on the first line and had a really good film session. I just got back from dinner with a bunch of the guys. It was Shawn’s birthday, so we went to get a bite at this awesome Chinese place I can’t wait to show you both.”
“And you’re back in the dorm by nine?” 
“A couple of the other guys went to grab drinks, but I’ve honestly never been more tired in my entire life, and we have a five call time tomorrow for conditioning.” 
“Okay, honey, well thanks for calling me. You should sleep.” 
“I will. Clarke, wake me up later so you can tell me all about dinner and your day?” 
“We’ll see,” she shrugged and smiled. 
“I’ll be half asleep but I’m extra cute when I’m half-asleep.” 
“It’s true,” Gabby nodded. “She’s impossible to tolerate when she’s awake.” 
“Very funny,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I love you guys. Have a good dinner. I’m sorry I missed it.” 
“Get some sleep,” they both ordered. 
It was a good dinner. Clarke enjoyed her time with Lexa’s family as she always did, and she felt a little better that Lexa gave her something to do. Maybe it was a win-win all along, that Lexa got to make sure her family was watched, and Clarke would have something to do. She wasn’t sure she could give Lexa all the credit for the plan, just that she was glad it worked out that way. 
XXXXXXXXX
It had been a long two months. Clarke felt every second of it, she thought, despite how busy she was preparing to move across the country. There was still work, and there was still time with friends, still the summer shenanigans she’d come to love, still time with everyone else who was going their own ways as well. 
It took forever and it went on in a blink. But by the time she got off the plane and picked up her luggage, she realized she didn’t particularly miss home at all. As she stood on the curb and waited for an Uber, she wasn’t as daunted by the idea of change as she had expected, but rather eager to embrace it all. 
“Excuse me, ma’am, you’re going to have to move along--”
Dumbfounded, Clarke stared at her girlfriend, who seemed to have somehow gotten taller and prettier in their time apart, standing next to an old truck. Clad in a backward blue ball cap and a torn up workout shirt that looked as if it was still dirty from a morning practice. 
“What are you--?” Clarke began to ask before smiling too much and launching herself into her quarterback’s arms. 
It felt good, to feel Lexa’s arms around her waist, to smell the sun on her neck, to fit so snuggly there. Clarke squeezed with all of her might, kissing what she could smooshed there, with Lexa’s arms returning it, a laugh in her throat strangled from escaping. 
Somehow Clarke realized her legs wrapped around Lexa and she was essentially a koala, latched there. She didn’t care. She kissed her girlfriend, ignoring the honks of the cars and the swirling police that wanted to usher everyone along. She somehow became the person who missed another persons lips. It was infuriating. 
“How did you know?” 
“My mom told me about your flight,” Lexa shrugged. “I borrowed a truck from one of the guys on the line. They think you’re hot.” 
“Well, that’s… sweet, I guess.” 
“I couldn’t wait to see you. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”
“You’re getting soft on me, Woods.” 
“Yeah,” she grinned, squeezing again. “I don’t care. I knew no one would be here to take you to school.” 
“I was just going to uber or taxi.” 
“I’m going to be the person who takes you where you need to go, even if you don’t ask or expect it, and not in as creepy a way as that sounds--”
She was silenced with another kiss as Clarke struggled to hide her smile. 
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ditttiiiwrecks · 4 years
Text
OT7 Fic Rec Master Post:
 last updated (16/05/2021) 
If my master-list is anything to go by I am clearly obsessed with ot7, so here are some of my favs. 
Some of these stories are linked from Ao3. If any of those fics have been cross posted to Tumblr, please let me know. 
Current Fic Count: 25
Give all these amazing authors some love ♡ & To all the authors, Thank you so much for writing. I am so beyond grateful for all the work and time that you put in to writing these stunning pieces of literary art. 
This list is by no means complete, so if you have any recommendations, send em my way! ♡ Happy Reading!
~Love, @ditttiii  ♡
1) Void by @btssavedmylifeblr
Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all. 
2) Make You Know Love by @btsismybiass 
Summary: Growing up, Jungkook had always shared everything with his brothers; toys, food, clothing, friends, and even girls. The seven were inseparable — secrets were not allowed. Halfway through senior year, Jungkook was sent to a school halfway across the world, though he wouldn’t tell anyone (that didn’t already know) why. Years later, he has an adjoining apartment with his best friend (who is hopelessly in love with him) and 6 brothers he has yet to tell her about. One night, she comes barging into his home unannounced only to be met with a group of sexy foreign strangers.
3) Armed to the Fangs by @jingabitch
Summary: You grew up in the Hunter’s Guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. While making the rounds one night, you encounter Taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. Next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. Finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.
4) Sanctuary by @softykooky
Summary: some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.
5) Eunoia by @wishesunderthestars
Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?
6) Tangled Hearts by @writersrealmbts
Summary: You have seven hybrids and life with them can be both good and stressful. Some days are better than others, but in the end, you know that they’re always there for you, in more ways than one.
7)  Diamond Tears and Little Wings by @writersrealmbts 
Summary: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?
8) Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals 
Summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.
9) The Butter Series by @minniepetals
Summary: their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would have known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?
10) Stray Cat Strut by Bang to the Tan (TyphloticHaruspex)
Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…
11) BACK HOME by @alexlwrites
Summary: : The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
12)  A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne
Summary: In which you are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of. Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind's greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.
13)  I’ll Still Stay by @sugamoonv
Summary: Y/N, living in a society where hybrids are seen as commonly as pets and working a well-paying job, finally decides to adopt a hybrid for herself. But what happens when instead of one new companion, she leaves with seven? And what happens when nature decides that these companions are meant to be more than that?
14)  The Gateway to Your Heart by @justimajin
Summary:  ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞
15)  Like I Do by interlude__dream
Summary:  It's summer in Seoul. You didn't expect much to happen during your nights working at a coffee shop, but somehow, giving one kid a sandwich wrapped up your fate with seven hungry boys more tightly than you could have ever imagined.
16)  w e a r e a l l m a d h e r e by cath_mg
Summary: In which you're a model student who just managed to catch not just one, not two, but all seven 'transfer students' who just happened to visit your university.At the end of the road, will you stay or will you run? Or...
17)  Follow Me Down by ARMY_BRAT
Summary:  It was supposed to be a simple vacation to a foreign land. You certainly didn’t expect to wake up drugged and caged like an animal in the basement of seven beautiful men.
18)  Sharing is Caring by always_bias_wrecked
Summary:  You decide to let the rest of Bangtan watch you and your boyfriend Jimin have sex one time. Now suddenly everyone seems to want a piece of you, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind sharing.
19)  Ruin Me, I Dare You. by porcelainbones
Summary: Where a regular wannabe author discovers the members of the biggest band in the world are her soulmates. All Seven. (not a reader insert)
20) Abundance by @angelicyoongie
Summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.
21) You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga
Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.
22)  Accidental Friends by erakun
Summary:  Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. *clears throat* PLATONIC.
23)  Lifeline by @forgottenpasta
Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?
24) Restitution  by @cloudteawrites 
Summary: When an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.
25) The Lore of the Forest by spield
Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.
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babyjamiebarnes · 4 years
Text
Build-A-Bear
Part Three
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters
Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications
Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.
Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!
Part One • Part Two
Tags: @kennedywxlsh
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Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.
“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.
“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.
Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”
You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.
“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.
“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”
“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”
“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.
“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.
“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”
Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.
This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.
“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.
“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.
“Tonight?” she continued.
At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.
“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”
Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.
As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.
“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”
All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).
“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.
“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”
Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”
“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”
“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...
“His name is James.”
Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”
‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).
“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.
If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.
“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.
“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.
“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.
And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…
“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”
“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.
“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”
“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”
You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”
As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.
[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺
Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.
I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.
You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.
What does your night look like?
Eating a late dinner and talking to you.
Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢
Not as fun as actually being with you.
Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.
There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.
You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.
Whatever you say! 🙄
There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.
Are we still going out tomorrow?
You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.
I’m still down if you are 👀
You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.
The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.
You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.
And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.
Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.
By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.
“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”
“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.
“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”
“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.
By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.
Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.
“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.
“See you later, Matt!”
You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.
“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”
“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”
Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.
“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.
“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”
Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.
“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.
“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”
“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.
“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”
“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”
“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.
“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”
The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.
“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.
The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.
When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.
“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”
For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”
Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.
“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”
You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.
“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”
“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”
Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.
“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”
“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”
You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.
“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.
Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.
“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.
“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.
“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.
“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.
“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”
“Yes please!”
“Con formaggi?”
“Si! Grazie!”
Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.
“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.
“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”
“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.
“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.
“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”
“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.
“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”
Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...
“Can you still get drunk?”
“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”
You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.
“Are you drunk now?”
“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”
You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.
Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.
“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”
Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.
“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”
“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.
You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.
“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”
He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.
“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”
“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.
“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”
He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.
“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.
“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.
You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”
Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…
Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.
“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”
Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.
But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.
“Can I kiss you?”
Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.
“Yes, please do.”
You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.
Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.
“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.
“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.
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oh-my-may · 4 years
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Nishinoya, Bokuto, Oikawa and Atsumu as your boyfriend hcs
requested by anon: hey hey heyyyy! may i request for 'as a boyfriend' headcannons for nishinoya, boukto, oikawa and atsumu please? thank u if u get around doing this !! xoxo
hello there!^^ at first I thought about splitting this post up into 2 parts because usually the ‘as your boyfriend hcs’ are a bit longer but  I decided against it so enjoy~ (also atsumus and oikawas are a bit longer because they are my faves and uuuh I am weak lol)
Nishinoya Yuu:
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one of the most energetic and happiest boyfriends!!
Will literally love and cherish you until you die and probably even after that, I’m being serious his love and affection for you have no end
though in the beginning of your relationship, or even before it, he always gets very shy around you which is unusual for him. That’s how he knows you’re special to him, because you make him doscover a whole new side of him!
The secret admirer type of crush, everyday you’ll find a new small present waiting on your desk. Your favorite drink, a snack, a small cute note, a new pen when he noticed your old one didn’t work anymore, a small bunch of flowers... It’s just so cute!
But it takes forever until he actually asks you out. In reality, it happens a lot different than he imagined. Normally he made sure he was in school waaayyy before you, but that one day he overslept and was in class just a few minutes before you. or so he thought. You just walked in the moment he placed the small package of milk on your desk and you both just stare at each other for several minutes and he’s about to faint until Tanaka saves him and gets him out of class because “he might develop a fever, his face is all red and sweaty”
2 days or so you don’t hear anything from him, until he manages to get over himself and ask you out in the tiniest voice. He has to repeat himself several times until you understand him properly because the poor boy was so nervous he spoke too fast and too quietly
BUT AFTER he finally gets you to be his he’s just the smiliest baby!!
Will never, not ever, let go of your hand. At least not when he can avoid it.
Always wants you to be on his side, like at practice and such. You can be guaranteed to be found at every single game that Karasuno ever has again, even practice games. You’re always there cheering for him and he’s at his 150% every time! The team loves his energy on the field but it’s a biot exhausting everywhere else :’)
ANWAYS definitely a lot of activity dates! I’m not saying that he would say no to a good old cuddle session, but he’s just always bouncing around, so going to the arcade or comign up with fun games at the park is normally what you do after school and practice!
Tanaka is the accepted third-wheel of your relationship. Whenever your over sat Noya’s he ends up showing up, too a lot of times or he joins in on fun dates, but it’s never uncomfortable or weird. You two actually become really good buddies and he always tells you funny stories about Noya! Also him and Kiyoko and you two go on double dates and it’s!! So cute!!
Did I mention that Noya is the king of skinship and PDA?? He really couldn’t care less who’s around you or who might be watching, his eyes are always on you and his hand somehow magically finds his way to your ass lol
No but on a serious note he just can’t live without you and sometimes he can get really anxious if he doesn’t find you in a crowd or your hands don’t intertwine immediately when he reaches for you. He can’t explain it, it just doesn’t feel good about it when you’re not around him.
Protective!! WILL jump on anyone that looks at you the wrong way or makes you feel uncomfortable. he 100% has Tanaka’s support for this.
Did I forget anything?? That should be about it for my little noya rant, he’s just too cute I’ll hug him to death~
Bokuto Kotarou:
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chaotic™
When I tell you he did NOT know what he was doing when he asked you out. Just listened to Akaashi’s and Kuroo’s advice and it somehow worked out for him. Several months into the relationship he’s still not entirely sure how he got you, but he doesn’t complain
(psssht, it was his clumsy charm mixed with some kind of natural charisma that got you, but don’t tell him that he will not shut up about it)
When he first saw you he was at practice and he couldn’t help but stare because how can a real human being be so pretty?? and he actually missed a ball, got it slammed to his head and well what can I say? You almost got him passed out the first time he saw you
He got soooo embarrassed afterwards help the poor boy. The brightest blush ever appeared on his cheeks and ears and his hair immediately went emo mode straight down hanging into his face
The whole situation was so chaotic and messy you couldn’t help but turn around and look for the source of all this trouble, just to find the silver-haired boy staring right at you and hitting you someplace special in your chest, literally taking you aback
Afterwards the coach scolds him for being inattentive and you leave the gym in a hurry, because you as well are embarrassed. But it doesn’t take long until Akaashi gets send to get your number and you can’t help but giggle as he tells you about how Bokuto literally won’t stop whining about you being the prettiest human being on earth
That’s how you started texting and bokuto might just be one of the most random texters (is that even a word??) ever. Like yeah, in the beginning he’ll mainly talk about volleyball and send you sweaty pics of him (no, not these ones!) but then again you’ll get a text at 3am on a thursday and it will be like a really bad picture taken of the moon and it will say like “thought about you” and in the next message 3 seconds later he’ll talk about wanting to be a werewolf or so. And you have to laugh so hard you can’t even be mad at him for waking you up
And that’s basically how you’re relationship works, too. A lot of random texts, especially “come over?” ones or “watch me at practice! please???” and you can’t ever get yourself to say no to him, because he’s always so happy when you show up!
Ngl it kinda distracts him too, but he’s in ace mode when you watch him because he feels the need to impress you even when you tell him there’s no need for him to because you’re already impressed by him
Loves hugs! Hugs after a victory or a defeat, hugs after school and practice and hugs as greetings and goodbyes... Just hugs, so he can entirely engulf you in his big and strong arms and you basically vanish somewhere between his arms. Loves pressing you close in the whole process of it, so close that you can barely breathe for a second, but you actually love it because it just shows his love and affection
9/10 times you’re also the cure to his emo mode. Just very rarely even you can’t help him and it’s upon himself to get over it, but with your presence near him and the opportunity to cuddle onto you while reflecting about himself, he’ll get over it eventually
He’s also the biggest cuddler there could possibly be. most of your dates are stay-inside ones because most of the times he’s exhausted from practice and games, so a chill night in with a good movie or series and some nice snacks really do it for him. He can just cuddle onto you however he likes and he especially likes brushing his fingers over your warm, soft skin. It makes him feel very at ease.
Yeah so that’s about it C: Please just love this smol bean to no end, because his love sure as hell also has no limit
Oikawa Tooru:
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People might think he’d be very blunt and cocky and all when he has a crush, but I’m telling you - he’s actually the softest boy ever and prefers to keep his distance at fir4st to observe and understand his feelings for you
So what I’m saying is: As soon as he realizes what exactly his feelings are for you, he gets a bit shy and distant but blushes whenever he sees you
At first he thought you were just one of his obsessed fans and he didn’t think much of it, but then his gaze always wandered over to you, no matter if it was during a game or a practice or at school or when he saw you somewhere else... It was like you were haunting him, in like the best possible way, as he soon realized
It takes him forever to get himself to talk to you, because he wants everything to be perfect. He chooses to approach you in school when he found you alone that one day, but oh well, it totally didn’t go as planned. His glasses fell off his nose when he was trying to be smooth, he hopelessly stumbles across his words and his face got so red you thought you were talking to a tomato. Still, it kinda did something to you. You found it endearing, really. So you could just smile and nod when he asked you to got out with him and the biggest sigh of relief ever™ leaves his lips
He’s still hecka nervous for your first date, asks all his friends and team mates about their opinion on what he should wear and do, where should he take you etc... It takes him so long to decide that you just take it in hand and suggest something and he just rolls with it and turns out to be one of his favorite dates ever. A day at the park, though halfway through it got messy because it started raining and neither of you were prepared, so you had to run and share his jacket to go someplace dry and you end up in a library and neither of you can hold in the giggles when the librarians tell you to “tone it down.” It’s also your first kiss between seemingly endless rows of old books and your hearts flutter like crazy afterwards and you’re just speechless because... OIKAWA IS A GREAT KISSER idc what any of y’all think
so it just becomes a regular thing for him to pull you aside in the gym hall or school halls or whatever and kiss you senseless for his entertainment because your reaction is always 10/10
He may act smooth around others, presenting himself as the cool confident boyfriend, but really... He’s just the softest boy for you and a hopeless romantic on top.
Play with his hair and he will never leave your side ever again. The cutest pink hue will spread on his cheeks the first time you do it and with time you learn more about his soft spots, like brushing your lips or fingertips over his neck or the ticklish feeling he gets when you touch his waist.
Loves to pick out movies and series for you to watch. Most of them are alien or conspiracy theory-themes but you don’t mind, Oikawa is happiest when he can connect several things he loves, like you and aliens, or you and volleyball.
You’re also gonna have to accept the fact that he spends a lot of time on volleyball and that he will come home late and not always have time for you on the weekends. He will, however, especially love it when you work your way through his schedules to meet him, like when you come to watch and support him at practice. He will take extra breaks to pull you close and calm himself down in your arms.
Iwaizumi will definitely become one of your closest friends and you’ll both spend time shit talking about Tooru (ofc in a loving way) and Oikawa can’t help but smile seeing as you get close to his best friend~
He’s not exactly the most jealous type of boyfriend. He does trust you a lot and just makes sure that everybody always knows he’s your boyfriend. Trusts you with handling certain situations, though he will keep an eagle eye on strange boys and men near you and won’t lose no time chiming in when he feels like it to safe you
Of course there’s a big decrease in the numbers of his fangirls after everyone finds out you two are official, but Oikawa actually prefers it this way. As long as you are cheering for him, nothing will be able to stop him.
The bestest and softest boyfriend, not to be dramatic but I’d die for him
Miya Atsumu:
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Okay now this one is actually smooth. Or so he thinks.
He’s quite obvious about his crush and feelings for you, so like he won’t hide it and use every possible opportunity to talk to you and flirt with you. And when I say flirt I mean he will use every bad pickup line you have ever heard somewhere
At first you’re really really turned off by it, but you do give him credits for being so determined and never giving up. He even takes advice from all his team mates and even though Osamu and Suna are very annoyed by his behaviour, they help because they think it will get better once you two are dating.
So every once in a while he will bring you some self-made delicious food along with a smooth line and one day he catches you off guard so hard you choke on some rice and then blush so hard you run out and you just leave poor Tsumu standing there wondering??? Are you okay? Did he just make you blush?
The next day he comes apologizing with the biggest bouquet of flowers right in front of everybody in your class and you get soooo embarrassed and the way he’s standing there is lowkey just adorable so you have no choice but to say yes. You almost catch him blushing right there, as well, because he really didn’t expect you to say that right then and there
Now when I tell you, he’s the most likely out of these 4 to ditch volleyball practice to sdpernd time with you. Most of the time it isn’t even intended, he just forgets time until he either gets a text from his brother or Suna or Kita OR you realize how late it is being like “Tsumus shouldn’t you be at practice since like 2 hours?” “Oh really? Guess not today. Now come here.”
He gets very used to having you close to him, just like Bokuto, so he will start whining when you can’t make it to a game or you’re busy with school work. Will definitely also make surprise visits at your house, like he’ll just randomly appear in front of your window at 3 am?? Are you spiderman??
Not to be angsty on this fluff post but uuhh fights with him can get very bad because he’s a stubborn child and sometimes you’ll catch him not talking to you 3 days after an argument because he needs time to cool down and reflect. He’s in the wrong 4 out of 5 times and he knows, but just give him time and he’ll be fine again. Shows up with the biggest face of regrets and food he threatened his brother to make and he’ll just blob down into your arms mumbling apologies over and over again. Cute.
Jealousy over 3000. Grows red with anger and balls his hands into the fist the moment some guy makes his way to you. Is on your side in 1 second will make no effort to hide his distrust towards the other guy. Sometimes he’ll get a bit too protective and you just have to tell him that and he’ll let you do your thing, though his gaze will never leave you just to make sure
Biggest show off. Will pull you close or hold your hand in public, grinning like and idiot and constantly placing kisses on your knuckles because you’re his baby and he loves you
Before he serves at games he will look right at you and have the most smug smile one has ever seen on his lips before smashing the ball righ into the opponent‘s field with 0 chance of them to safe the ball. It’s lowkey hot.
Also he gets very pouty and whiny when tired after a long day at school with practice or after exhausting games! Will constantly place his head on top of yours, saying it’s “too heavy” and he literally just covers your body with his.
The type to unconsciously pull you closer while sleeping!! The cutest habit! Always makes you smile when he does it!
A lot of your dates involve either volleyball or playing video games (sometimes Osamu or Suna join) and it’s most of the times just really chill. From time to time though, he’ll get the urge to do something else and next thing you know is you’re wall climbing or on a roller coaster or something. It’s either all or nothing with him concerning dates lmao
Also loves bickering! Will sometimes annoy you on purpose to see your cute face and you’ll have small arguments about who stinks more or whatever and then it always ends with “i love you though”
djsklsl I’m stopping myself now because this was getting too long because I am biased™
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farfromsugafanfic · 4 years
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Lock & Key
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Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst
Pairing: Jungkook/Reader
Warnings: cursing, dirty jokes
Synopsis: When Jungkook ditches you on your birthday, your friendship looks like it’s about to crumble. Your friend group becomes tired of your bickering and decides to take the matter into their own hands. Somehow, you and Jungkook find yourselves handcuffed together.
"Have you guys found a present for Y/N yet?" Jin asked, picking up his third pizza slice and taking a large bite, the cheese stretching as he pulled it away from his lips.
"You haven't gotten it yet? Her birthday dinner is tomorrow," Taehyung said. His eyes were tired, but he'd still insisted on joining the party despite having just gotten off a long train ride, as he hadn't seen his friends from high school for months. "I got her the first two manga in that series she's been wanting to read."
"Mmm," Jin said, seeming to consider Taehyung's choice of gift. "I need mine to be really special. He finished his pizza to the crust and turned it 180 degrees and bit into the end. "Jungkook, you're closest to Y/N. What are you getting her?"
Jungkook turned, wide-eyed towards Jin. The younger's face was already a bit flushed from the beers and from the mention of your name. "I'm paying for her part of the meal tomorrow and I got her tickets to that musical that's only in town for one night."
"Woah, that's gonna be hard to beat," Jimin said, "Y/N hasn't stopped talking about that musical since they announced it. Remember how she went crazy over it in the group chat?"
"I'm sure Y/N will like whatever you get her," Jungkook said. "She isn't very picky and she'll appreciate it because it came from you."
"I know. I just have something special planned and I want it to be perfect." The six other guys looked to the eldest expectantly. Jin sighed. "Gosh, fine, I'll tell you. I plan on confessing to her tomorrow."
"What? You like Y/N?! Since when?"
"Woah, congrats man!"
"You'll make such a cute couple."
The group fell to chaos, but Jungkook was notably the least excited. At the mention of Jin's plans, he sunk back against the wall and took a large bite of his pizza, followed by a gulp of beer.
"I'm not sure when I started liking her," Jin said. "I just kind of realized that I do. I figured we are friends and I'll regret it if I don't give it a shot."
"Are you sure her birthday is the best time to confess?" Jungkook asked, finally piping up. "What if things don't go well and you ruin it? Are you going to do it in front of everyone?"
"I thought about it and I'm going to wait until after the meal. Maybe I'll be able to steal her away for a few moments after she opens our gifts."
Jungkook's nose wrinkled and he was obviously unsatisfied with the answer. Yet, he dropped it and reached for another slice of pizza. "Why does it matter to you Jungkook? It's not like we all still won't hang out or that you'll never see her."
"Y/N's been hurt before. I'm sure you remember how upset she was after Minsung. I had to sleep in her bed for two weeks because she'd wake up crying. I never want her to feel that hurt again."
"Jungkook, I won't hurt her. She's more likely to hurt me. Why do you care so much about her heart being broken anyway? You're not the one who broke it and you aren't responsible for fixing it. Y/N's a big girl, she can handle herself."
Jungkook pouted. "I have to pee," he said, standing up and leaving the room, carrying his pizza slice with him.
vVv
An array of appetizers were spread across the table, a few bites taken from each. You were just waiting on the last three to show up: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. You expected them to come together as they had been nearly inseparable in high school. As Jin finished off one of the appetizers, you spotted Jimin and Taehyung walking in. You got up and rushed towards them.
"Happy birthday!" Jimin and Taehyung said, nearly tripping each other as they ran to hug you. "It's been too long, Y/N!" The two boys had moved out of the city for college and you rarely got to see them. You didn't know what you do if Jungkook--your best friend--had gone with them.
"I'm so glad you guys could make it! Come on and sit down, we're just waiting on Jungkook."
The appetizers were gone and the missing chair at the table remained. Worry grew in your throat and you glanced down at your phone for the umpteenth time to see if he had texted you. Even, just a simple "Running late!" or "Stuck in traffic!" would calm your nerves.
"Have you guys heard from Jungkook at all?"
The other guys all shook their heads and gave you sympathetic looks. You'd put off ordering, but it'd been nearly an hour since most of you arrived and you didn't want to keep the staff waiting any longer. "All right, let's order."
"I'm sure he just got stuck in traffic or something, Y/n," Jin said, reaching out and tapping your hand.
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Your heart dropped as you read his last reply. You felt tears stinging your eyes, but you pushed them back before the other guys could notice.
"He's not coming," you said.
"What?" you heard someone ask, but you were too focused on not allowing your spiraling thoughts ruin your birthday and holding back tears to register who it was.
"He said he got a date or something. I don't know, but come on, we can enjoy this without him."
Due to the solemn looks on their faces, you knew they saw right through your facade. You and Jungkook had been best friends since elementary school where he accidentally trampled you when he was racing his friends. Despite ending up with a badly skinned knee and a couple of bruises, you were fine, but Jungkook had insisted on taking you to the nurse's office anyway. He pretended to sprain his ankle just so he could sit and keep you company.
What had happened since then? You'd never felt like your friendship was dwindling when it came to Jungkook. Whenever either of you dated, it didn't make a difference. High school graduation didn't separate you. Not even when Jungkook forced you to a haunted house in high school and laughed when he saw the stain on your jeans and realized you'd peed your pants in fright.
Despite ignoring for Overwatch or coming to your apartment just for the free food, he always ended up doing small things to make up for it. You often found chocolate bars stashed in the odd drawer or cupboard to make up for all the food he steals. After he finished laughing, Jungkook allowed you to wear his sweatshirt to cover it and bought you new jeans. You still had that sweatshirt stashed in your closet somewhere.
vVv
The tears stopped by the end of dinner, but now anger ran down your spine. How dare he skip your birthday for someone he just met? He'd never done anything like this before, he was the one person in this world that you could depend on, and now he's not. You feel a pang of sadness in your stomach and reach out for your portion of the bill, which Jungkook had promised to pay for.
"Stop," Jin said, reaching for the bill you'd just barely wrapped your fingertips around. "You're not paying. We'll split yours." You nodded, powerless to the eldest's tone.
After the bill was paid, everyone got up and starting readying to leave. You had taken a taxi, expecting Jungkook to take you home afterward. Jin seemed to notice, his brown eyes melting when they met yours.
"Hey, come on, I'll walk you home."
You nodded and waved goodbye to the other guys as you all walked in opposite directions or climbed into taxis. You didn't catch the other guys thumbs upping Jin and giving him reassuring smiles.
"Thanks for coming," you said. "Even though it kinda got ruined."
"I'll always come, Y/N."
"Oh, when I get a hold of his bunny ass--"
"Go easy on him, Y/N. I'm sure he has a better reason than he told you."
"He better be on his death bed then."
Jin let out a snort, which caused you to smile, but the smile soon faded and so did the fake happiness the anger made you feel. Now you just felt hopeless and felt the tears stinging in your sinuses again.
"Do," you said, already your voice faltering. "you think I'm still enough?"
Jin stopped. "What do you mean?"
"Am I still enough for him? Maybe he found a better friend," you said, your gaze painting the sidewalk. "I mean, I always rely on him. He's always my shoulder to cry on. Maybe he finally got tired of it. Got tired of me."
Jin placed a hand on your shoulder. It felt odd, as Jin wasn't one for skinship, but his touch was comforting, even if you were imagining it was Jungkook's. Except you couldn't, Jungkook's touch was old, familiar, warm. Like the fireplace at your grandparent's house or when your car is completely heated on a snowy day. Jin's--sure, it was warm--but it wasn't Jungkook.
"No, no, of course not," Jin said, moving to hug you, your cheek hitting his chest. "That could never happen. You and Jungkook have been friends for years. If he was gonna get tired of you, he would've already."
You scoffed, half in laughter and half in fear. "Thanks."
"Okay, but seriously, Jungkook cares about you. A lot." Jin paused and sighed. You looked up, noticing his eyes weren't on you, but rather he was looking up. His eyes looked glazed, but you didn't remember him having any drinks. "He wouldn't allow himself to lose you, Y/N. Trust me."
The rest of the walk was filled with a comfortable silence. It was only a few more blocks from where you'd stopped, so you reached your apartment in just a few minutes.
"Thanks for walking with me," you said. "Sorry, I got kinda sad halfway through."
Jin shook his head and reached to move a piece of your ponytail that had escaped from the hairband and fallen roguishly over your head.
"You don't need to apologize for your feelings, Y/N. Just promise me you won't kill the kid. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding."
You nodded, although you weren't convinced that Jungkook didn't now hate you for reasons you didn't know.
"Thanks," you said. "For everything."
Jin nodded. "You're welcome." He turned and walked into the night and you turned your back before he disappeared.
vVv
"How did the confession go?" Jimin asked, as soon as Jin walked into the small apartment he shared with Yoongi, which was now cramped with six bodies.
"It didn't."
Jimin and the other faces in the room all contorted in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I didn't confess."
"But, why? Wasn't that your plan? Don't you like her?"
"She loves someone else," Jin said, his voice deeper than usual, his heartbreak captured in the back of his throat. "And, someone else loves her."
vVv
Two Days Later
You hadn't heard anything from Jungkook since the night of your birthday and you weren't sure what hurt more--the fact that he didn't care enough to explain himself or that he had seemingly replaced you. His Instagram was full of stories and posts of him with the girl you assumed was the one he skipped your birthday for. She was beautiful with large dark eyes and curly hair. His arm was around her shoulders and then eventually her waist. He must really like her because you remember how it took Jungkook nearly two years just to feel comfortable placing an arm around you.
You huffed and threw your phone onto your bed as you ran your hands through your hair. You were still mad, but you didn't want to lose your best friend. You remembered Taehyung mentioning how all the guys were getting together for Overwatch.
You hardly thought as you headed towards Jin's and Yoongi's apartment--the largest of the apartments belonging to those in your friend group.
You didn't bother knocking as you entered the apartment. You found the seven guys all crowded onto two couches and watching Taehyung and Jungkook. They didn't notice you until you slipped in and placed your hand  on Jimin's shoulder—who jumped at your touch.
"Y/N!"
All seven heads turned to look at you. Most breaking into smiles and friendly greetings and offering you snacks.
"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asked, his voice breaking through the revelry. He was normally so soft-spoken, but at this moment, his voice grated through the air.
"I was hoping we could talk."
"You weren't invited here."
Your stomach turned. He'd never spoken to you like this, ever. Jungkook was normally the happiest when you showed up unannounced.
"Since when do I need an invitation, Jungkook? This is Jin and Yoongi's place, not yours."
Jungkook didn't respond but instead unpaused the game. Taehyung barely had time to close his mouth from watching the two of you that he fumbled with the controller as he realized Jungkook had restarted the game.
"Oh, so you're just gonna ignore me then?"
You rolled your eyes at how typical this was of all your ex-boyfriends. Towards the end of the relationship, they always ignored you for something else. Sometimes it was someone else, others it was their job. And yet, others, it was video games.
Jungkook had been there with you for all of these failed relationships. He said you deserved someone better, someone, who would never leave you or ignore you. You thought he was the only constant in your life, the one person who would never leave you, but now, he was just like all the rest.
Tears stung your sinuses. You dug your feet into the carpet and grabbed onto the back of the couch, trying to focus on the game. The guys had gone back to talking amongst themselves, eating, and watching the game. Yet, the air felt different, you caught concerned glances flicking your way and Jin silently offered you a slice of pizza which you declined, only eliciting another puppy-eyed look from the eldest of the group.
Jungkook was close to winning and the tears were soon beginning to simmer and your hands balled into fists. Before you could think or stop yourself, you marched around the couch and reached for the cord that was connected to the Xbox. The screen went black and all the eyes in the room shifted to you.
"Y/N?! What the fuck?!" Jungkook said, his voice rising. "I was about to win!"
"Jungkook, we need to talk and you're being an asshole."
Jungkook's ears were red and his eyes hard as steel. "This is ridiculous, Y/N. You came here uninvited to talk to me and when I go back to playing games because that's what I'm here for, you unplugged the system and demand I talk to you. And, I'm the asshole?"
You wanted to scream and pull your hair out. Yet, the thing you wanted most was to cry into Jungkook's oversized, black T-shirt because you knew it smelled of his cologne.
"Jungkook, you skipped my birthday party and you said we could talk about it, but it's been two days and I just want my best friend back."
"Y/N, why can't you just take the hint you're not wanted? This was supposed to be a guy's night and now you've had to come in here and ruin everything. You're way too clingy, like, this is why they always leave you."
"Jungkook!" Jin said.
You barely registered as the other boys chastised Jungkook as your vision blurred from the tears. You swore you saw his face soften before your eyes were totally filled with tears, but you couldn't be sure.
"Y/N," Jin said. You felt his hand come to rest gently on your shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you home."
vVv
A few days later you found yourself standing outside of Jungkook's apartment. You knew Taehyung and Jimin were staying with him, so you secretly hoped one of them would open the door.
The hallway was silent and dimly lit. It felt like midnight despite being noon. You softly knocked on the door, the sound--while quiet--seemed to echo down the hallway. You weren't sure what you were going to do or say when he opened the door. You were only sure that you missed the way he used to show up at your place at midnight with ice cream sandwiches or the way he let you borrow his sweatshirts when you were cold or couldn't sleep.
Thirty seconds passed and you knocked again. Firmer this time, each knock ringing out in the empty hallway.
"Jungkookie," you said softly.
You heard footsteps on the other side of the door. They were faint, but you recognized them from when he slept over at your apartment when you were sick or going through a rough time.
You listened as the door unlocked and slowly opened. He only opened the door a crack, just enough to peak out, as if you were an unknown person knocking on his door. As if you didn't know the layout of his apartment or that he kept all his mess concentrated to the common areas and his bedroom immaculate.
"Y/N...what are you doing here?"
His voice was softer than the last time you spoke. You knew Jin had told Jungkook how much you cried as he took you home and how you didn't answer his texts all night.
"I just wanted to see you," you said. "We don't have to talk or anything. I just miss you."
Jungkook didn't say anything. His eyes scanning over you. Your hair was unwashed and pulled into a bun and you wore sweatpants and a T-shirt. Dark circles outlined your eyes and even though it had only been a few days, your face looked thinner and your skin languid.
Another set of footsteps approached and the door swung open wider. Taehyung stood there in just his boxers and munching on a piece of toast. His eyes widened when he saw you and he glanced over at Jungkook, who's eyes were looking down at your feet.
"Hey, stop being a dick and let her in."
"Put on some clothes then," Jungkook said, his voice quiet and low, almost a growl. He swung the door all the way open and disappeared into his apartment.
Taehyung met your eyes and shrugged. He offered a small smile as you walked into the apartment. You hadn't brought anything with you, not sure exactly what would happen.
"I won't stay long," you said. "I just wanted to see him."
"At least have breakfast with me," he said, dropping two pieces of bread into the toaster.
You nodded and fell onto the couch. You'd done this countless times. At 4 in the morning after a night out, you'd collapse on Jungkook's couch still in your heels and your makeup slowly wearing off. You usually woke up the next morning in Jungkook's bed, your heels set by the door and your makeup at least mostly wiped off. At 6 pm as you leaned against Jungkook's shoulder as the movie started, your hand diving into the popcorn bowl in his lap. Most of your favorite memories happened on his couch.
"I hope you like Nutella," Tae said, handing you a piece of toast.
You laughed. "I love it," you said. "How do you stay so fit eating like this?"
Taehyung was still in his boxers. While he didn't have a six pack, he certainly wasn't hard to look at and the slight toning of his stomach showed he was putting in some effort.
"I'll gain five pounds just from eating this," you said, and despite your words, you took a large bite.
"Then you should have another," Jungkook said from the other side of the room. You hadn't noticed him there, he must've slipped in when Taehyung distracted you with the toast. "You're getting too skinny."
"I didn't ask you, Jungkook," you said. You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back, your toast abandoned on the arm of the couch.
"I'm just worried about you."
"Since when? When you stopped texting me? Or, when you ditched my birthday party for someone you just met?"
Jungkook's eyes turned soft in the way that would usually make you melt. But, you kept your eyes off of his and your spine straight.
"Y/N..."
"Listen, Jungkook, I might've come here cause I missed you, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven you."
Jungkook didn't say anything. Silence filled the apartment and after what felt like an eternity, he left to his bedroom.
"Are you okay?" Taehyung asked.
You nodded. "I think I just need a nap or something. I'm getting a headache." You looked around the apartment. There was only one bedroom and both Taehyung and Jimin were staying with Jungkook during their visit. "Where are you sleeping?"
Taehyung nodded and gestured toward the couch. "There," he said.
"Oh," you said. "Can I borrow it for an hour or so?"
"Be my guest. But, you know, even though you two are fighting and all, I bet Jungkook would let you have the bed."
You shook your head. "No," you said. "I'm not asking him for any favors and the couch looks more comfortable anyway."
Taehyung shrugged. You laid down and turned your back to him, missing the knowing smile as he cleaned up. You listened as he cleaned up and got dressed before leaving the apartment. It wasn't long before the tears came and you sobbed into the couch cushion as quietly as you could. The last thing you wanted was for Jungkook to emerge from his bedroom and find you like this.
He'd seen you cry dozens of times and you'd even held him as he sobbed into you. You didn't mind crying in front of him, but you knew it would destroy him to see you like this and to know he was the cause. Even if you mad at him, even if you were losing him, you didn't want to crush him.
You didn't remember falling asleep, but when you awoke, his scent was everywhere. You pressed your face into the pillow and stretched out your legs comfortably. You sighed until a thought crossed your mind. Pillow?
You opened your eyes and found yourself in Jungkook's bedroom. It was dark and the covers were pulled up to your chin. Jungkook wasn't in the room and from the empty feeling in the air, he wasn't in the apartment either. Your phone was next to you on the nightstand and plugged into Jungkook's charger.
You glanced at the time and realized your nap had lasted three times longer than you anticipated and you sat in bed as you realized that you probably needed to go home. However, before you could pull your eyes away from your lock screen, a text notification from a couple of hours ago caught your attention.
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vVv
"Hey, sorry, I'm late," Taehyung said, walking into Jin and Yoongi's apartment where the other five boys were already crowded on the twin couches. "Y/N showed up at Jungkook's and I needed to see what happened."
The others all looked at Taehyung expectantly. "Jungkook doesn't know about this, right?"
"We didn't tell him."
Taehyung nodded. "Well, they're definitely in love with each other. Jungkook was jealous as hell and Y/N's heartbroken. I could practically see Jungkook splitting in half when he realized how upset she was."
"Well, didn't you all notice how when she started crying after he got mad at her for unplugging the Xbox, how he just broke? I don't think he cared about the game anymore, but then Jin swooped in and stopped it before he could apologize."
All eyes swiped towards Jin and he shrugged. "What? She was to the point of crying. I didn't know what he was going to do and I didn't want to upset either of them more."
"Does he know that you never confessed?"
Jin shook his head. "He never asked."
"Jin!" all the guys said at one.
"That would change everything! He probably thinks you and Y/N are together."
"It's pretty obvious we're not."
"I don't know the way you intervened during the fight and walked her home. It could be seen as you protecting her."
"Well, whatever, what's the plan? We have to get them to make up somehow. And confess, cause they're gonna drive us crazy pining after each other." Jin looked around at the other faces and all of them were, in turn, watching him.
"Well, we need to force them to be alone somehow," Namjoon said. "We could try locking them somewhere, but that's gonna be difficult cause the party is here and none of the doors lock." Eyes wandered as they tried to find a solution and eventually, Jin's eyes fell on the TV where a cartoon cop was catching a criminal, the handcuffs snapping down on the culprit's wrists.
"I think I might have an idea."
vVv
Taehyung and Jimin were taking the train back to their college town in the morning, so that meant you'd all spend the night before getting drunk and gorging yourselves on all the pizza you could.
Jin and Yoongi offered to host the party and a few of their neighbors offered up their apartments so everyone could spread out. You all invited your extended friends and neighbors if everyone came, you didn't doubt the party would probably get out of hand, but that was half the fun.
As you brushed on your blush and primped your hair for the final time, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook was going to be there. There was no way he would miss out on a good party and the opportunity for free food and drinks.
You wore a short white dress that was admittedly a little shorter than you would normally wear. But, with Jungkook ignoring you, you wanted attention and you didn't really care who it was from. Plus, you liked the way it hugged your curves and how when paired with the perfect heels, made your legs look longer.
You arrived a few minutes early to the party with the expectation of helping set up, but the party was already in full swing. When the elevator opened, people crowded the hall with cups in hand and music blasting from Jin and Yoongi's apartment. At this rate, the cops would be called in a couple hours, unless Jin and Yoongi had talked to all their neighbors beforehand, but you highly doubted it.
You waded through the bodies and found your friends all invested in a game of beer pong. The younger three on one end and the older four on the other. The older ones were currently winning and you smirked as you remembered just how good Yoongi was at the game.
"Need help?" you asked, placing your arm around Taehyung's shoulders, the heels allowing you to do so easier, although it still looked slightly awkward.
"Ah, finally! Someone who can rival Yoongi!"
You laughed, trying not to allow your eyes to wander over to Jungkook who was standing closer to you than he had for weeks. "Who's turn is it?"
"Yours if you want."
You nodded and walked up to the table. You angled your arm and aimed for one of the back cups, even if you missed, it may still land in one of the front cups that remained. You tossed the ping pong ball and it sailed perfectly into the cup.
"Yes! Drink up, Min Yoongi!"
Yoongi smirked and took the cup and downed it. You two had played this game countless time, both won and lost countless times, to the point that it was no longer about winning, but rather, who could get the other drunk quicker.
Yoongi aimed his shot and tossed it flawlessly into the cup right in front of you. You took out the ball and downed the cup. The beer was pretty much tasteless which meant it went down easily but left a bad taste in the back of your throat.
After a few shots back and forth, you had drunk twice more and Yoongi once. You were aiming up another shot, intending to tie it up when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked behind you and caught Jungkook's eyes.
"Are you gonna let us play?"
"Do you want to win or not?" you said, turning back and aiming up your shot. You were already a little tipsy and your head ached as you concentrated.
"Y/N, it'll be no fun to get drunk so early," he said. "Come on." His voice was soft and familiar. He'd done this dozens of times. Prevented you from getting too drunk or going home with the wrong guy. He brought you back when the alcohol began to take over. This time--however--you turned away and aimed the ball. Missing.
Yoongi tosses the ball in what appears to be a haphazard fashion, but it sinks straight into a cup. You pick it up and bring it to your lips, but before you can drink, the cup is being knocked from your hands and the beer spills almost entirely onto your dress.
You see Jungkook staring at you wide-eyed--the obvious culprit--his hand still gripping the cup.
"Jungkook!" you yelled, people turned in your direction, but your yell was soon forgotten as the music continued. All but your small group turned back to their own conversations. "Would you stop trying to be my friend? You made it quite obvious you no longer wanted our friendship and you just keep screwing everything up!"
"Y/N, I..."
Tears were beginning to fill your eyes and the only thing you wanted to do was get drunk and forget this night happened. You stepped forward to push through the crowd when someone grabbed your wrist. You knew from the touch that it wasn't Jungkook and when you glanced back, Jin's lips were upturned in a small smile.
"Wait, Y/N," he said. "I'm really sorry about this."
You cocked your head in confusion, but before your lips could form words to ask Jin what he was apologizing for you felt something click onto your wrist and found a handcuff locked around your wrist and you noticed the other was locked to another wrist. You followed the chain and met Jungkook's dark, confused eyes.
"Have fun, kids. We aren't unlocking you until you talk everything out."
vVv
Ten minutes later you stood in the kitchen as Jungkook tried to work a kitchen knife into the lock. The beer was slowly making your dress more and more see-through and you glanced around the room.
"Jungkook, can we try this somewhere else?"
He looked up at you with his brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn't managed to say anything before his eyes widened and he quickly shrugged off his flannel. It caught on his cuff and he struggled to get the sleeve over the handcuff and chain.
"Fuck it," he said, taking the knife and cutting into the seam where the sleeve met the shoulder.
"Jungkook isn't this a bit drastic? We can just go into the bathroom or something."
"No, it's okay. I can just cut off the other one later."
He brought around the uncut sleeve and brought over your shoulder and brought the cut sleeve over the chain and up your arm. The way the flannel hit it ended up covering your entire dress and draping across your bare thighs.
As soon as you were covered and comfortable again, he once again tried to unlock the handcuffs and your hand was at his mercy as he moved the knife point back and forth in the lock.
"Jungkook, this isn't going to work. You're just gonna end up hurting one of us."
Jungkook sat the knife back on the counter looked down dejectedly at your cuffed wrists. You couldn't help the pang of hurt in your stomach. Jin had handcuffed the two of you so you would talk and all Jungkook could focus was on how to get the handcuffs off without talking.
"Maybe we can break the chain," he said. "If we both pull, our combined strength might be enough."
Your wrist was already starting to become red and raw because Jin had accidentally snapped the cuff on a little tight, but before you could protest, Jungkook began pulling on the chain.
You immediately yelped in pain and your wrist attempted to escape the pain, causing your body to fold in on itself. You found yourself crouched and leaning against the counter, your arm almost straight above your head to remain close enough to Jungkook's so that it didn't dislocate the joint.
"Y/N?" Your name was barely audible over the music and the people around you many of which shot odd glances or coy smiles your way.
"It's tight, Jungkook. Jin accidentally locked it too tight. Can--can we just go talk and get these things off?"
Jungkook nodded, seeing your teary eyes from the pain and helping you to your feet. His free palm came to rest on your shoulder and his handcuffed hand grasped your wrist and he slipped two of his fingers between your skin and the cuff. It was the first time he'd touched you since before your birthday and you felt your knees go weak and something shifted in you with his touch. The plate tectonics of your heart shifting suddenly and with no warning.
"Let's go to the bathroom, first."
You were confused as he pulled you into the bathroom and situated you against the counter. He reached into the cupboard behind you and pulled out some lotion and squirted it onto his handcuffed hand. He rubbed it softly onto your wrist where the handcuff had rubbed the skin red and raw.
"Better?"
You nodded and looked up at his face which hovered not far above yours but was focused down on your wrist. His jaw was clenched and his features were stiff. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the sleeve he'd cut from his flannel.
"I think if we roll this down we can put it between the cuff and your wrist. It might make it feel tight, but it won't hurt you so much."
He rolled the sleeve down under it was a single cuff which he carefully slipped over your hand and under the cuff. It did work, your skin feeling relieved from the lotion and the cloth, although it did still feel slightly too tight.
"Thanks," you said. "But, maybe we should get out of here. I don't want your girlfriend to get the wrong idea."
Jungkook met your eyes. "What? Girlfriend?"
"The girl you went on the date with?"
"Oh, it uh, didn't work out."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
There was a long pause as Jungkook continued to adjust the cuff to ensure it stayed. His eyes were focused on your wrist.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For saying you were clingy and bringing your exes into this. I'm sorry for everything."
You looked down at him, your free hand coming to play with the hairs that grew around his ears. His hair was longer than you'd ever seen it and you smiled as he seemed to lean into your hand.
Jungkook finished adjusting the cuff and looked up at you. "I think Yoongi's room is empty. He didn't want people in there, but I bet he won't mind if it's us."
You nodded and followed closely behind Jungkook as you walked through the crowd to Yoongi's bedroom. It--like Jungkook had said--was empty. The two of you flopped down on the bed and despite laying a foot apart your fingers continued to brush against each other as you adjusted your wrists in the cuffs.
"I can't figure out why Jin handcuffed us," Jungkook said. The music was just a series of thumps now and even though it was still loud, you could no longer make out the lyrics and could hear Jungkook's voice without him having to raise it. "I thought he wouldn't want us to hang out anymore."
"What?" you asked. "Why would Jin care if we hang out?"
Jungkook turned and looked at you. His hair was wet from sweat and his hair curled in thick tendrils over his forehead. "Aren't you and Jin dating?"
"What? No! Jin and I are just friends. What makes you think that?"
"Jin told me he was gonna confess to you at your party."
Jungkook pulled his gaze from you and focused up at the ceiling. You thought back on that night. Jin had been acting more generous and gentlemanly that night, but you just chalked it up to it being your birthday.
"I didn't even know he liked me. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was with Jin and you didn't want to interfere?"
"That's part of it."
"What's the other part of it?"
His eyes came back to yours and you felt his fingers brushing against yours. But, it wasn't just the millisecond brushes as he adjusted. No, his fingers were practically intertwined with yours.
"Y/N, we've been friends so long...I don't want to ruin it..."
"Jungkook, it's already ruined."
There was a long tense silence between the of you. His fingers fully intertwined with yours. It was far from the first time you'd held his hand, but it felt different. It was softer, yet more intense at the same time. As if your hand were porcelain that could break at even the slightest touch.
Jungkook moved so quickly that you have no idea how he came to hover above you. His free arm resting above his head and the one handcuffed to you still intertwined with yours to the side. "What would've happened if Jin had confessed to you?"
"Kookie?"
"What would've happened?"
"I-I would've turned him down."
"Why?"
"Cause I'm in love with someone else."
His lips were on your before you even finished the sentence. He was gentle but urgent as if he'd been waiting two thousand years to kiss you.
"I'm still mad at you for skipping my birthday party," you said when he pulled away. "I don't care if you're in love with me, your cute ass still has a lot of making up to do."
Jungkook smiled as he leaned down placed a small kiss on your neck. "Well, I never got to give you my gift."
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out two tickets. You grabbed them from his hands and you smiled as you realized it was for the musical you'd been dying to see.
"It's tomorrow," he said. "Pretty good first date, yeah?"
"Hey, don't get cocky yet!" It was hard for you to hide your smile and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so, you just leaned up and kissed him.
vVv
You woke up the next morning enveloped in Jungkook's arms and his one-armed flannel. You looked up to see him scrolled through his phone, but when you squirmed, he looked down at you.
"Good morning, baby," he said.
"That sounds so weird."
"What, baby?" He smirked and giggled as you reached up and playfully hit his shoulder.
"Wait," you said, looking at your unbound wrist. You looked down and found the handcuffs on the bed. "They must've uncuffed us last night."
"I hadn't even realized," he said. A blush appeared on his face. "I didn't want to let go of your hand."
"Aww," you said, reaching up and ruffling his hair. "You're such a softie."
Jungkook smirked and grabbed your wrists. "Hey, I'm not completely a softie."
He held your wrists and glanced down at the handcuffs. "Maybe, we should keep these."
299 notes · View notes
caramelcal · 4 years
Text
Slow Down
Request(s):  Ooooooo could you do a Luke x reader fic based on the song Slow Down by Why Don’t We?
+  Anonymous said:Luke x reader? He’s on tour halfway across the world but all he can think about is spending time with his girlfriend?
Word Count: 2.1k!
a/n: hey! i know that this doesn’t fully cover the second request so if you want something completely based off of that, just request again! Thanks for requesting anyway and I hope you enjoy! Also did you guys see Madi’s lives today??? The cake decorating??? THE COVER?? MY EARS ARE B L E S S E D  update: not me forgetting to add tags
Masterlist
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Oh, I've been lying to myself and I might know why I miss the way you looked at me before you left New York (hey) I've been tryin' to find help, 'cause I can't deny The way that I feel when I'm with you Oh, I'd do anything to save ya
He could hear the fans screaming in excitement, the overall chatter of them but he couldn’t enjoy it at the moment. How excited they were to see the band. He was filled with nerves, and even though he was born to perform as many would say, he still couldn’t help feeling nervous.
It was no surprise that Julie and the Phantoms had gotten big, their music was amazing. After they played at the Orpheum, they got a lot of recognition and only ten months later they were whisked up on a tour, a new album out only a month ago gone viral. Everyone loved them, and they were finally living their dream.
Luke loved performing, it was second nature to him, but being on tour was very different from playing in the garage with the band like he was used to. So whilst he basked in the glory of the fans, there were still nerves and that’s what he felt right now.
Checking his phone, his foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, his guitar sitting to his right. Normally, playing his guitar would comfort him, but it wouldn’t right now, that’s why he needed you.
And thankfully, his worries that you weren’t going to answer as he heard your calming voice through his phone, “Hello?”
“Babe,” Luke replied, breathing out a sigh of relief when he let the nerves out of his body.
“Luke? Aren’t you supposed to be on stage right now?” You started, and he could hear the worry in your voice, “Is everything alright.”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just nervous, that’s all. We’re just about to go on,” Luke informed you, eyes staying on the ground as he simply focused on you and not any of the fuss around him. Backstage concerts were always crazy like this, especially just before they started. No doubt someone would be through in a second to pester him about getting ready to go on stage.
“Luke, babe,” You said, your voice calming as you spoke to your boyfriend. You knew he was going to absolutely kiss it out there, he did every single time he performed, “You’re going to be amazing, okay? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you and the rest of the band. I’ll be cheering you on all the way from California.”
That brought a smile onto Luke’s face, making him bend down his face so he was facing the ground. He didn’t like everyone to know just how in love he was with you, and the beaming smile on his face would be a clear indication. It wasn’t like he was very good at hiding it anyway, he constantly talked about you, somehow managing to praise you like you were a god even if you did a simple task. He was completely and utterly in love with you, no one could deny that.
“Thanks, babe, I miss you so much. I will find time to see you at some point,”
“You better, I miss you too. Plus, who else am I supposed to jam with in the car when you aren't here?” You joked, laughing lightly with Luke.
Luke casts his hazel eyes up to the figure in front of him after catching on to the very professional shoes that stood just in front of him, catching eyes onto his manager, “Listen I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too, my rockstar,” You said teasingly, knowing that it always made Luke flustered when you called him that. It wasn’t long before you guys had finished saying goodbye and his phone was turned off and put away, guitar in hand as he was ushered on stage.
Yet, just before he got on stage, he stopped, whispering, “This is for you, y/n/n. I love you.”
And with that, he ran out, and the fans erupted into screams and cheers.
I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh
Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now
Turns out, that even if Luke did want to meet up, that the tour was far too demanding for that. It was two months since the time you called, and you guys still haven’t had the chance to meet up. Hell, you guys barely had time to facetime. Luke was on constant vocal rest, and the times he normally was available, you were in class.
It was safe to say, the distance, and the different time zones were definitely getting to you. Some people were too, saying how people go off on tours and lose feelings if their girl stays back home, they often find flings and extra stuff like that. You knew Luke wasn’t like that, and both Carrie and Flynn have cussed the girls out for putting that in your head when it was obviously not true, but you couldn’t help but think about it sometimes.
Luke barely picked up your calls anymore, and you knew that what he was doing was very time demanding, but you thought that at least he would make a bit of time for you. You guys did text of course, but you often wouldn’t get around to replying to each other until hours after so it wasn’t a stable conversation. You thought about flying out for a weekend, or taking a few days out of school and flying somewhere to meet him, but your college student finances were not stable enough for that and you didn’t want anyone’s help, not even Carrie’s when she offered.
After being deprived of your boyfriend for so long, you often found yourself wallowing alone in your college dorm, but that wasn’t where you were right now. Flynn and Carrie had somehow managed to drag you outside to a party, a red solo cup in your hand and a fancy top on with some nice jeans. You contemplated drinking but found yourself denying any alcohol that went your way, getting drunk probably wasn’t the most responsible way to go.
Yet, as you saw the couples, some sweet ones holding hands or hugging, and some a little more...heated, you couldn’t help but drown in the thoughts of him. This was supposed to be a distraction from your wallowing, but you felt even more miserable here than you did back in your dorm room. You wouldn’t be for long though, not when you found out who was here.
See ya, I wanna see ya, ah  I wish you weren't so far so I could see ya, ah  'Cita, mamacita  We were comfortable, we didn't understand but now we know
Two weeks before the party, Flynn found herself on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram before her phone went. She quickly answered, seeing Julie’s face pop up on the small screen with a smile. They talked for a while, just catching up and Julie shared some concert and fan stories before she asked, So how is everyone? Carrie? y/n?”
“Carrie’s doing good, Dirty Candy is slowly getting some recognition for themselves, I see a tour in their future,” Flynn said with a smile, trying to distract Julie from the subject of y/n. She knew that most likely, the boys would be close by, and she did not want to tell them how miserable she was without them. That would only damper their moods.
“That’s so cool! I’m really glad, they deserve it. How’s y/n?” Julie asked, a smile on her face but as she looked at the hesitation on her best friend’s face, she knew something was wrong, “Flynn, is y/n okay?”
However, Flynn quickly found out that her silence was not helping her in any way, and when Julie asked about y/n again, Luke who playing about with his guitar in the corner of the room caught onto her concern. He stood up, alarm flooding his features as he walked over, taking the phone from Julie.
When his face showed up on the video call, Flynn could see his concern and worry and it made her eyes go wide. She knew there was no getting out of this, “What’s up with y/n?”
“Nothing, she’s fine,” Flynn tried her best to dismiss, laughing awkwardly but when she looked back to the camera she could tell that Luke was not buying it.
“Flynn.”
“Really! She’s-”
“Flynn! You do realize this is my girlfriend?” Luke said, raising his voice slightly to get the girl to stop rambling, which she did. Luke was only growing more concerned for his girlfriend and annoyed at the girl for trying to keep something about his girlfriend away from him, “I wanna know what’s going on with her.”
“She’s just,” Flynn hesitates, trying to think of a way to make this easier on Luke without lying to him but she realizes that she needs to be straightforward with the guy. Sighing, she starts, “y/n misses you to the point that she holes herself up in her dorm, and only comes out for food and classes. Hell, she hardly gets out of her pajamas anymore, Luke. She’s taking this a lot harder than she’s telling you.”
Luke went quiet, a frown forming on his face when he realized what his girlfriend was doing. He knew that she couldn’t keep going on like that; he still had another two months left of the tour and she would have wasted months of her life locked in her dorm. He casts a glance towards Julie, before looking back at Flynn, “I’ll sort this out. I’ll send you the details once I work them out but clearly, something needs to change.”
And with that, Flynn hung up and Julie and Luke started to plot a plan...
I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh
Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down (need to slow down, slow down, whoa) Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now (things were so simple way before now)
“Y/n!” Carrie calls out, grabbing your attention from the red solo cup in your hand. You look up at her, giving her a small weak smile.
“Hey, Carrie,”
“You enjoying the party?” She asks, hands on her hips as she looks around the room with a smile on her face. She had a fitting golden dress on, much fancier than what you were wearing but you didn’t care.
You tried to wrack your brain for what to say, and how not to offend Carrie about her party. Her party wasn’t bad, you just...didn’t want to be there, “Uhh, it’s alright, yeah.”
“Well it’s about to get a lot better,” Carrie says, a wide smile coming on her face as she looked behind you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You whirled around and saw him take a few steps away, a wide smile on his face. You stood there, shocked, this couldn’t be real, he was on tour. He wasn’t here, he couldn’t be.
But then, you sprinted, jumping into his arms, head leaning against his shoulder with your legs around his waist. He held you close to him, savoring the moments of you just being in his arms; something he had not got to experience in months.
Everyone at the party watched on but didn’t say anything, fond smiles on their faces for the reunited young couple. For you and Luke, however, it seemed as if you two were the only ones in the room, because no one else mattered at that moment.
You pulled your head up from his shoulder, eyes meeting his as the wide smiles that were on your faces only growing wider, never fainter. When you next spoke your voice was quiet, almost as if you believed if you spoke too loudly he would go away, you would realize this was just a dream, “Luke, you- you’re here.”
“I am y/n/n,” He whispered back, nodding his head as he leaned in and softly kissed your hips, your hands going to each side of his face, playing with the soft messy hair that he had. With eyes shut, you stayed in each other’s embrace, simply enjoying the moment, “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Don’t leave me for so long ever again, I can’t live my life without you.”
Let's just say, you two were never parted for too long after that.
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