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aomineavenue · 4 years

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betrayal

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Genre: angst (like honestly, tell me what else do I know to write for?)

Summary: finding the other cheated.

Word Count: 1k+

Mia’s General Taglist:

@luvelyxp @paripedia @bokukiyoom @sunnyatsumu @centuress @doggonudez @newfriendjen @kodzukrn @anjvxmmv @keijikunn @maramalademadara @chaelysian

mia speaks:

annnd, i’m back from my little break? I’m feeling a little better. I’m writing on my own pace though, I’m avoiding using my gadgets as much. But anywayyy, thank you so much for everyone’s love and patience.

If it’s not too much, please leave a little COMMENT on this piece or at least REBLOG if you like it. Thank you so much!

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You cry out, throwing your hands up in the air and letting out a dry laugh, "I didn't mean to throw that vase at you, it was an accident!" Your rampage began, anything you can get your hands on, a book, the tv remote, a magazine, a pillow, just anything, was thrown around the room and he dodged it the best that he could.

Betrayal.

It's a violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict amongst individuals. It's considered one of the most painful, traumatising experiences any human may stumble upon throughout their existence. Discovering such an act from someone we trust, may often lead to various emotions that pull the reality rug from under us.

It comes in many forms. Such as abandonment, breaking promises and even the spread of vicious lies behind someone's back.

In your case, however, it's when you come to face reality that the man you agreed to marry just a few months prior, was nowhere near faithful as he claimed to be. Or to put it simply, the bastard was having an affair.

You had been too preoccupied with wedding plans, that you grew ignorant of the blunt signs visible to the naked eye. You were foolish. The two of you haven't even tied the knot yet and there he was, already breaking the sacred promise of a marriage.

For a brief second, you had foolishly wanted nothing more than to look the other way. When he had stumbled home in such an ungodly hour, drunk off his ass, you had wanted nothing more than to reprimand his behaviour as he woke you up from your slumber. As you were about to, however, the whiff of an unfamiliar fruity aroma had attacked your senses the second you had stepped into his proximity.

Of course, you weren't the type of woman to berate their significant other over such a trifling concept without hearing his side of the story, you knew such behaviour will be a downfall for any relationship.

You brushed such an idea off, as much as the scent was bothering you, there was no use in questioning him in his intoxicated state. Well, that is, until you had stepped closer and that's when you saw it.

Bruises, no doubt growing darker as seconds passed by, littered decoratively on his skin, as if left intentionally on his neck for the world to see. For you to see.

That's when your own world falls apart. The walls that the both of you had built together to strengthen your relationship, crumbling apart, taking what you had presumed were strong foundations along with it.

You actually find it hilarious how, just moments ago, he had been stumbling into the shared apartment the two of you had worked so hard for, drunk off his ass, a giggling mess, not being able to comprehend the words that left his mouth. Then all of that changed the moment your lips moved to spew accusations towards his direction, it was as if the alcohol had escaped out of his system almost immediately through the sweat he had produced, obviously from the fear of the consequences of his actions.

He calls out your name desperately to capture your attention, you wanted to leave the apartment you called home right this second, the atmosphere suffocating you further. You try your best to blink away the tears, but you know it's impossible as your vision grows glossy.

"Please," he cries out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you back, "Please just wait, let's—"

"Oikawa," you croak, he flinches from your tone and how you addressed him by his last name. He begs, he cries, telling you to call him Tooru, pleading with you with his desperate eyes. "Oikawa," you repeat, wincing from his tight grip as you turn to face him, his heart clenches to see your eyes filled with nothing but hate and tears, the love he had grown accustomed to seeing, nowhere to be found. "Oikawa, let go!" You shake your wrist out of his hold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of you staying, whatever for anyway? The idea of listening to his excuses only breaks your heart further, you didn't want to see him, not right now, maybe not ever. You certainly didn't want to hear how such bruises even came about to taint his skin. You didn't even want to look at them anymore, you didn't want to look at him. The sight of his disheveled state, the bruises on his neck taunting you, squeezing your heart and you're finding it even harder to breathe.

His desperation shows as he follows you, or rather blocks you from your very evident goal, reaching the front door to escape this sham of a relationship. "Please, let me explain. It was an accident—"

The sight of the tears forming in his own eyes makes you laugh, despite your heart hurting, that it was being pulled apart and all you wanted to do was dissolve into tears, anger began taking over your emotions and to Oikawa, it was clear as the night sky despite the alcohol still swimming in his system, that his begging was futile.

"An accident?" You bark, features contorting into anger as your fingernails bury into your palms, "Do you take me for someone who lacks brain cells? Letting a woman kiss you? That's an accident?"

He winces from the harshness of your tone as he watches you move in the small living room that once radiated so much love and warmth. He knows he fucked up, he knows his answers were no use. The very idea of cheating was taboo for you and what did he do? He fucked up. He knows whatever form of reasoning will never be enough, but he knows he wants to fix the damage he had done. "Please, just listen. It really was just an accident. Baby, you have to—"

"Don't call me that!" You snap at him, using what little energy you have left to push him away from you, his scent mixed with the aroma of alcohol and the fruity perfume were enough to suffocate you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

His heart hurts upon hearing those words but he continues begging, dropping down to his knees in front of you but you couldn't even bring yourself to care. The mere sound of his voice reaching your ears were enough to fuel the enraged flames surrounding your heart. He tries to approach you, as cautiously as he could but you respond quickly to his actions, taking a step back.

Silence.

The cold air blows through the opened windows and enters the tiny room but despite its cool temperature, it wasn't enough to overpower the heat from the anger and tension radiating off from you. You avoided his pleading gaze, staring straight at the wall behind him as you seethe in anger. You feel your exhaustion dragging you down, your muscles hesitating on letting your guard down. The final straw was when he repeated his sorry excuse. It was an accident.

Your fingers wrapped hastily around the nearest vase and threw it towards his direction. He was quick on his feet despite being tipsy, dodging to the side. The vase hits the wall behind him, smashing into smaller pieces and sliding down to the carpeted floor, the fresh flowers that he had given you a few days prior that occupied the vase, scattered along with the broken fragments. He turned to look at the broken vase and then back at you, despite the fear in his eyes, he was still begging.

He cries out your name, begging you to stop. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, just listen to me."

Your eyes caught the picture frame that rested on one of the shelves and a lump forms in the back of your throat. The picture was the very first picture of the both of you. The day that the two of you met. Without wasting another second, you grabbed it from its location and hurled it towards his direction. The frame misses him by an inch, smashing against the wall with a crack and his heart sinks further, he knows how much you loved that photo. He would often catch you in the early mornings with a cup of your favourite tea, staring at the photo with a smile on your face.

He ruined that.

"I'm sorry, Oikawa." You drawl sarcastically, letting out another laugh, "I didn't mean to throw those things, especially our picture but hey! It was an accident, right?"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly in defeat, shifting his gaze down to his hands.

You shake your head at him, “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

And before he could comprehend what was happening, you had already fled the apartment with your car keys.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuufic #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu angst

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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Skipping Stones - KEVIN

This was the second full scenario I ever finished for The Boyz and I think it was pretty nice to start with some soft Kevin :D THANK YOU KAI FOR LETTING ME YELL TO YOU ABOUT THIS ONE I HOPE IT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS.

Anyway! Happy (slightly early but only by a couple hours??) birthday to one of the best boys in the world, the one and only wonderful beautiful lovely Kevin Moon! I hope you all enjoy this <3 please reblog if you did!

Pairing: Kevin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, teacher!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.8k

Falling in love with you, Kevin thinks, is a bit like skipping stones.

Alternatively:

Five times Kevin felt himself falling deeper in love with you, and the one time he knew he was gone.

TBZ Masterlist | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

prelude.

Kevin knows he exists to be clowned. His sister says it’s something about his face – there’s something undeniably meme-y about his reactions, apparently, that makes him very clownable. His students tell him it’s in his demeanor – he comes off as pretty chill, according to them, which makes him easy to tease because they know he’ll react in some hilarious way, but it won’t affect him too deeply.

(Changmin just says he’s stupid, which makes him clownable to the highest degree, but Kevin refuses to take information from the teacher who still scares him every other week with whichever horror movie mask has recently caught his fancy.)

So Kevin knows he’s just a clownable human being, and he’s resigned himself to that fate for the rest of his life. But around you? His calm, collected, hilarious, wonderful partner? He expected a little less clownery and a little more loving.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to get Kevin to turn around. Honestly, he’s already feeling the effects of withdrawal from not seeing your smile for more than a few minutes, but he refuses to budge, lips curved downwards in a semi-permanent pout. He knows he won’t be able to keep this up for long (he’ll miss looking at your face too much, and really, he can’t be mad at you about anything), but he can make a scene. “Kevin!”

“You’re so mean,” he whines, still resisting your efforts to make him look at you. “I just poured out a very embarrassing part of my childhood to you and instead of comforting me, you laugh?” His pout deepens. “I don’t know why we’re dating.”

Your hands leave the back of his shoulders. For a second, Kevin thinks you’ve given up and he’s about to start whining about that too, but then you appear in front of him, fingers clasped placatingly. “All right, all right, Kevin.” Still grinning, you grab his hands. “I won’t tease anymore. But seriously, how could you expect me not to laugh my ass off when you told me you learned to skip stones for the –” you make jazz hands, presumably to emphasize your point – “aesthetic?”

Kevin sticks his lip out childishly. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” he mumbles.

“It’s not, not really.” You squeeze his hands. “But it’s a move that’s got Kevin Moon stamped all over it.” As if to accentuate your point, you snort. “Of course you’d learn to skip stones for the aesthetic.”

“Y/N,” he whines.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Your teasing grin melts into an eager smile. “Hey, teach me?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

It feels like Kevin’s physically crumbling to pieces with the way your hopeful voice and sparkling eyes just attack him from all angles. Grudgingly, the deep pout on his lips stretches into a smile, the starstruck smile that all of his friends like to tease him for. “Fine, let’s go.”

He spends the rest of the afternoon stepping around small children and younger couples, trying to find suitable rocks for skipping and teaching you the right angles, the right stance, the right way to hold the stone in your hand before sending it into the water. You learn fast, something he envies – where it took him at least a couple of weeks to perfect the art, you (mostly) pick it up in a matter of hours – but he can’t feel too jealous or too bad when you look up at him after your stone skips once on the water. “Kevin, I did it!” You shake him slightly. “Did you see that?”

The softest smile spreads across Kevin’s face as he kisses your forehead softly “Yeah, I did.”

When he pulls away, you give him the brightest grin before scrambling away to find more stones to skip. Kevin just watches, taking in the way your figure looks against the setting sun, bright gold and pale pink light streaming over your body, almost making you glow.

This is why he fell in love with you, he thinks. Your character, your tenacity, the way you throw yourself into every task you’ve been assigned so that you can complete it as best as you can. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to treat a new cancer case at the hospital or trying to skip a stupid rock across the water. You always give it your all.

Idly, Kevin picks up a stone of his own. With a practiced flick of his wrist, it goes sailing onto the lake, skipping three, four, five times before sinking beneath the surface.

Falling in love with you is a bit like skipping stones, he thinks, watching the stone disappear from sight. Someone had to force him into that first blind date with you, much like making the first toss of the stone into the water, but every skip after that was quick, effortless, the way he felt himself falling for you, step by stumbling step, until his heart finally gave in and sank below the waves of your warmth.

It’s hard to imagine a time when he wasn’t in love with you, even though such a time did at one point exist. But the way you make him feel with the smallest things you do – the way you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, the way you rest your chin on your hand in thought – it feels like he’s known you for an eternity and loved you even longer, loved you before time existed.

Your stone skips twice across the water and you shout with joy, racing up to Kevin to celebrate. He catches you when you leap at him, arms wrapping around your waist automatically, smiling into your shining face. Yes, he thinks, he’s in love.

He’s so in love with you.

. . . . .

Kevin, by all definitions of the word, is panicking.

He’s been dreading this blind date for almost a month now, circling the day on his calendar and marking it D-Day, begging Jacob and Changmin to come along and hide in case he needs to be bailed out, relentlessly praying that he’ll be able to leave the stupid date in one piece.

(Look, as much as he appreciates Mrs. Park’s kindness and her brownies, she can be… a little overbearing. To say the least.)

Just a few hours ago, he was putting on his yellow sweater and bemoaning the existence of his pushy coworker. Just a few hours ago, he was lamenting his fate to his two friends (friends is a term he will use loosely for today – all they did was laugh at him). Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the existence of Mrs. Park and her brownies for getting him locked into this date with her sister’s kid. Wait, was it her sister? Or her brother?

(“Yes, her sister,” Changmin says, rolling his eyes. “Pay more attention, won’t you, Kev?”

Kevin groans. “Why couldn’t either of you be chosen by Mrs. Park, huh? Why me?”

“Because I have a partner and Jacob is good at disappearing.” Changmin grins that evil, evil grin he always has on just before he’s about to execute a prank on someone (usually Kevin).

“More like the two of you are good at leaving me to fend for myself against Mrs. Park, even though you know I can’t say no to shit,” Kevin grumbles.

“Give up her brownies,” Jacob suggests.

Kevin gasps. “No way in hell.”)

But now, he’s actually sitting across from you in a café not too far from his apartment, holding a cup of coffee between his (visibly shaking) hands. And he can’t even think of why he was dreading this date so much because you’re just… really, really perfect.

Why are you so sweet? he’s screaming inside. Why are you so funny? Why are you literally the perfect mix of snark and kindness and just – everything?

“So my aunt told me you work with her,” you say, seemingly oblivious to Kevin’s jitters. The smile on your face is really sending electricity racing through his heart. “I know the children must be fun, but I know she can be a bit… overbearing.” There’s a hint of apology in your eyes, like you know your aunt must have pressured him into this and you’re sorry that he had to come on a date with you.

Kevin’s stomach flip-flops. Okay, so Mrs. Park maybe did severely pressure and sweetly blackmail Kevin into a blind date. But Kevin also doesn’t want you to feel bad for it because it’s not your fault at all, so as usual, when he finds himself in a tight spot, his mouth decides it’s time to run.

“No, your aunt is really nice,” he starts. “I really mean it – she’s always very kind to the kids and to the rest of us teachers. I’m still kind of new compared to the rest of them – I’ve only been at the school for a few years now – but she helped me feel welcome that first year when I was still figuring things out. And she also likes Beyonce! You know, the greatest female artist there is? She let me play my entire playlist of Beyonce songs for her last year and she liked every single one of them!”

Kevin’s babbling now. Rambling. Whatever he wants to call it. His brain is screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth won’t stop running because this is what he does when he’s nervous. He talks. Endlessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the table where Changmin and Jacob are situated in case they need to rescue him from mental or physical harm. The top of Changmin’s head is barely visible behind a huge menu so Kevin can barely see his friend, but somewhere in his babbling haze, he notices a phone camera poking out from behind the menu.

If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely is now.

Finally, his mouth listens to his brain and he trails off on his last thought on why Beyonce is the best artist in the entire world. There’s a second of silence.

“Sorry,” Kevin finally squeaks. “I… tend to ramble when I get nervous. Or when I talk about Beyonce.”

Your smile flashes even wider. Kevin is torn between wanting to melt into the ground out of embarrassment and staying upright to keep seeing that grin on your face.

“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, fiddling with your cup of coffee. “I thought it was cute.”

Kevin’s face burns so much that he misses what you say next. “Sorry?”

You grin. “I’m always interested in hearing about a new artist to add to my playlist.”

Kevin lets out a theatrical gasp. “You don’t have Beyonce in your music library?”

A sheepish look spreads across your face. “… No?”

“Oh my God.” Kevin pulls out his phone. “Okay, I’m about to educate you on the artist of our time.”

The afternoon, then, passes in a flash. Changmin and Jacob eventually just up and exit the café (presumably with enough blackmail to last the rest of Kevin’s life – he knows he was acting like a complete fool, but luckily, you didn’t seem to care), leaving him alone with you. Under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve started crying, but you’re so sweet and so interesting that Kevin thinks he could stay and talk to you in this café forever.

He learns you’re an oncologist at a nearby children’s hospital, that even though the work is hard and tiring and sometimes overwhelmingly depressing, the strength of the children and the families you work with inspire you to keep going every day. He learns that you don’t have too much of a sweet tooth (though you won’t say no to ice cream or cheesecake, both of which he notes in his head), he learns that you love coffee, and he learns that you like to take walks in the park whenever you have a little bit of free time.

He also learns that you’re snarky, intelligent, driven, hardworking. He learns that you’re something far beyond the beauty of your face – that underneath your skin, there’s a heart that’s warmer than the sun.

Kevin understands that this is only the first date and that he maybe shouldn’t be making judgments so quickly. But he’s been told that he’s a relatively good judge of character, and the genuine look in your eyes when you talks speaks volumes about the person deep inside.

Even though you live further away, Kevin takes the bus with you to your home, citing that it’s only polite to walk one’s date to the door (in reality, he just wants to spend a little more time with you). As the bus rattles along the road, Kevin lets you listen to the songs on his phone, delighting in the way your head bobs to the beat of his favorite tracks.

Kevin’s a bit sad when you reach your apartment, sad that your time together is over for the day. He lingers outside the building for a moment, trying to work up the courage to ask about a second date.

Suddenly, you lean forward. Kevin jerks back – he briefly wonders if you’re trying to kiss him – but you just pat a spot on his sweater, frowning slightly at your fingers. “Is that… paint?”

Oh my God.

Kevin tugs the material of his sweater forward so he can see the spot you’re pointing at. Sure enough, there’s a small patch of red paint on the yellow fuzz. He groans. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Well, that’s what people like us get for working with children.” You roll your eyes comically, and Kevin bursts into laughter that’s definitely too loud for the small joke you made. Then silence falls again.

You break it. “Listen, Kevin.”

He perks up. “Hmm?”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this date because my aunt has been trying to set me up with people my age for several years now.” For the first time today, you look shy. “She was probably really pushy with you too, so I’m sorry about that. But I really enjoyed this afternoon.” You meet Kevin’s eyes. “If you’d like, I’d love to go on a second date.”

Kevin’s heart explodes. It really does. Sheer excitement courses through his veins, and he has to stop himself from smiling widely enough to mimic a god damn clown. “I’d love that,” he says trying to hide how eager he really is. “Um, I’ll say that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this either, mostly because my experience with blind dates has had… limited success. But I’m really glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person.”

Your smile grows wider at Kevin’s admission. “Thank you, Kevin. You’re wonderful too.”

“Do you kiss on the first date?” he blurts out because his brain has no filter. Then he backtracks. “Um, it’s totally okay if you don’t, I was just asking, please don’t think I’m a creep –”

You briefly press your lips to his. Kevin shuts up.

When you break away, Kevin honestly thinks you’re glowing. “Does that answer your question?” you ask, bravely trying to hide something – is that embarrassment? Whatever it is, he thinks it’s adorable.

Kevin blushes. “Yes.”

People probably think he’s insane with the way he’s smiling on the bus ride back to his apartment. He can’t help it, though – the tingling touch of your lips, gentle against his, plays over and over in his mind, along with memories of your lovely voice and your lovely smile and your lovely, lovely disposition. Some people are giving him weird looks, and Jacob and Changmin are sure to tease him to no end when he comes in to work tomorrow.

But who cares? Kevin’s got a second date in the works with one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met.

In his mind, he’s on top of the world.

. . . . .

ii.

Usually, when Kevin gets lucky and scores a second date or a third, he suggests taking his date somewhere with children to gauge how they feel about small toddlers tearing up the place. Children are a huge part of Kevin’s life – he teaches elementary school and knows he wants kids when he gets a bit older – so one of the silent standards he’s set for potential significant others is that they have to like and be good with children.

You work at a children’s hospital, Kevin knows, so you must at least be good with kids, even if you might not like them (hey, it’s possible – Kevin has known many people who are good at things they hate). That fulfills half of the standard. He just needs to gauge the other half.

There aren’t many events at the school coming up, though – no plays, no art exhibitions, nothing he can really invite you to. He’s racking his brains for a third date somehow involving children when you unexpectedly call him about an event at the hospital.

“I know it’s last minute,” you apologize profusely, “but the guy who was supposed to come today for the kids’ music hour called in sick. I don’t want to cancel the event because they always look forward to it and I know you play the piano – would it be possible for you to fill in?”

It is possible, it turns out. He may not be able to pack his Yamaha upright into the back of your car, but he does have an electronic keyboard that fits into your trunk. The whole way there, you’re apologizing, but between reassurances that it’s totally fine, Kevin can’t help but anticipate how you’ll act around the children once the two of you arrive.

Setting up takes more time than he’d like (the extension cord that comes with his keyboard is too short, so you disappear on a twenty-minute manhunt for a longer one while Kevin just stands there awkwardly), which makes him feel slightly like a burden on the rest of your coworkers. They’re so polite, though, so genuine and kind, that Kevin eventually starts to feel more at ease.

(He’s still endlessly grateful when you return, extension cord clasped victoriously in one hand.)

Then the kids start trickling in, and Kevin’s heart immediately both breaks and melts. Some are in wheelchairs, others have lost their hair, but they’re all smiling with so much excitement, chattering to their parents and the staff around them as they settle on beanbags and pillows on the floor. Several look at him curiously and he smiles at them, prompting several questions about who he is, why there’s a keyboard and not a guitar, and why the normal guy isn’t here.

“The usual guy got sick and couldn’t come,” Kevin says to one sweet girl with chubby cheeks and shining eyes. “I’m just here to replace him for a day.”

“Do you play the piano?” she asks, shyly pointing at the keyboard, which more than a few curious souls are standing around.

Kevin smiles. “Yes, I do.” He would say more, maybe offer to show her the instrument a little, but then you’re walking over, and her eyes brighten. “Dr. L/N!” she cheers.

With a loud laugh, you swoop her up carefully, cradling the girl against your shoulder. “How are you, Daeun?” you ask, lips spread in a smile that Kevin knows can’t be faked.

The girl – Daeun – grins. “I’ve been good!” she announces proudly. “Are we going to start soon?”

You laugh again, settling her back down on the floor. Kevin thinks his heart melts with the way your eyes sparkle. “Yes, we are,” you say. “I see you’ve already met Kevin?”

“Your name is Kevin?” Daeun looks at him curiously. “Your name is strange.”

Kevin has to force himself not to coo. “I was born in Canada,” he says. “My Korean name is Hyungseo.”

Daeun’s nose scrunches. “I like Kevin more,” she decides with finality.

Kevin feels brave enough to pat her on the head. “Then you can call me Kevin.”

“All right, Daeun. Go find your mom, okay? Kevin and I are going to finish setting up, and then we’ll get started.” With a soft kiss on the forehead (Kevin makes a sound he really hopes you don’t hear – the scene is just too adorable), you send the small girl off, turning back to Kevin. “Shall we get started?” you ask, grinning widely.

It may only be the third date, but he’s falling in love, Kevin thinks, falling in love with your shining face and sparkling eyes, with the way you shower love upon the children you’ve placed under your care. Right now, you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a future partner – beautiful in character, kind, gentle, fiercely loving.

His heart pounds a little faster.

Belatedly, Kevin realizes you’re waiting for a response and nods quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes glancing over the sea of children waiting (somewhat) patiently. A smile to rival yours spreads across his face. “Let’s get started.”

. . . . .

iii.

Kevin loves the last Friday of every month, he really does. It’s been tradition for several years now to go out with Changmin and Jacob on what he calls nights for “the boyz” to eat cheap food and get drunk. And no matter how much the others complain about the stupid name (Kevin will admit it sounds stupid now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll change it), he knows they enjoy the nights all the same.

Sometimes, though, Kevin just wishes he had more of a filter on his mouth. If not that, then maybe his brain could stop remembering every single dumb thing he said or did on drunk nights out. It would make his life a lot easier if he could just forget being stupid.

But no, God decided to be mean when making Kevin Moon. So Kevin, as a result, is an emotional drunk. He cries a lot when he hears about sad or adorable things, he says a lot of stupid stuff to (badly) express his overwhelming feelings, and worst of all, he remembers all of it when he wakes up hungover the next morning.

(None of this stops him from getting drunk anyway. Kevin Moon doesn’t learn lessons when it comes to alcohol. When he falls on his face (sometimes literally), he just gets up again, even if it’s with a bloody nose.)

Luckily, the night doesn’t end in chaos. Even though Jacob, who’s half of Kevin’s impulse control, leaves after an hour (he’s meeting with his family the next day, so Kevin is obligated call him a noob – it’s like a law of physics or something), Changmin doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do weird things without Jacob there to stop him, so the night passes relatively smoothly without Kevin throwing, like, a tantrum or anything.

He gets close, though. Because damn, if Changmin isn’t so fucking adorable when talking about his partner. Buried in his purple hoodie, black hair peeking softly over the top, it’s impossible for Kevin not to tear up when Changmin begins gushing over his beautiful, amazing, wonderful significant other whom he just compared to stardust.

Stardust.

Kevin wants to scream, that’s so romantic.

When you come to pick him and Changmin up, Kevin can’t resist relaying all of this to you as soon as he gets in the car. Vaguely, he thinks he should be worried about Changmin hearing it and hitting him, but the boy is mostly asleep in the back, eyes only fluttering slightly when you go over a bump or something. After Changmin gets dropped off at his apartment, Kevin turns the gushing on full force.

“Y/N, the love of my life, he called her stardust,” he’s still babbling even as you strongarm him up to his own apartment. “He’s so adorable. Changmin is so adorable. Oh my God.”

He thinks you snort. Probably. It would be a normal response. “Didn’t you call him the spawn of Satan just a few days ago?”

Definitely a snort, Kevin thinks, but he’s too invested in Changmin’s loveliness to whine about you making fun of him. “Y/N,” he pouts instead, “listen to meeeeee.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.” You grunt, catching him just as he misses the next step and almost falls forward. “Hey, be careful.”

“’M trying.” Kevin manfully does his best to stop the world from tilting on its side. “But Changminnie.”

“Yes, yes, Changminnie.” Even drunk, Kevin can make out the playful exasperation in your voice. “Keep going.”

“Thank you, love of my life.” Kevin tries to give you a kiss but his lips hit air instead of your cheek. “Heck.”

You burst into loud laughter. “Kevin Moon, you never told me you were this adorable when drunk.”

“Changminnie,” he says more insistently.

“Okay, yes, I’m listening.” You kiss his cheek instead, and Kevin almost topples over right then and there. “Hey, you can’t fall over whenever I kiss you. Tell me about Changmin.”

Kevin starts flailing his arms around as best he can. “He’s so cute!” he half-yells. “He told me his partner was like stardust because she’s so perfect and warm, but she’s also like stardust because… because…”

His lip juts out.

“Oh, no, don’t cry, Kev.” You stop moving, then Kevin registers you bundling him into a hug, patting his head. “I know you’re a sad emotional drunk, but don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” Kevin protests, visibly crying.

“Mhm.” You pat his head one last time before letting go. “Hey, give me a second, I’m going to unlock your door.”

There’s some fumbling and a quiet snick, then Kevin obediently follows you through the door of his apartment. Once inside, you press a thumb to the side of his face, brushing a tear away. “Tell me what Changmin said to make you sad.”

“Changminnie said he’s afraid she’ll… she’ll… slip away between his fingers. Like stardust.” Kevin feels like he’s going to start sobbing any moment now. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him eventually because she’s too perfect and he’s not good enough.”

“Oh my God.” You sit down on the couch. Kevin follows suit, albeit a lot more ungracefully as he collapses onto a cushion in a tangle of limbs. “Oh my God, that’s so sad and cute at the same time.”

“I said he should call her his star,” Kevin mumbles, turning slightly so he can burrow into your side. “Because stardust. Texted them about it. Both of them.”

Your laugh sounds like music even to the drunken haze of his brain. “Wonder what they’ll think when they see a drunken keysmash on their phones first thing tomorrow morning.”

The two of you sit in silence for a bit. Kevin feels his eyes beginning to get droopy, and he almost falls asleep before a thought strikes him with lightning force.

“I need to give you a nickname!” he almost yells, sitting bolt upright. The movement makes the room spin, but he doesn’t care. This is urgent. “Changmin’s going to call her his star, but I haven’t given you a nickname yet!”

“Kev, Kev.” You hold him by the shoulders, and he relaxes a little. “You can come up with a nickname for me in the morning. Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

“No,” he whines, shifting in your grip. “This is important. You need a nickname.” He sinks into deep, drunken thoughts, the kinds of thoughts he has when he ignores everything around him in favor of getting philosophical after having drunk too much alcohol.

Then it hits him.

“Oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God.” It’s his turn to grab you by the shoulders, now. “Oh my God. You’re the sun. Because I’m the moon. Get it? Kevin Moon?”

Through his drunken haze, Kevin thinks he sees you smile, maybe. It looks like a smile.

Your eyes are sparkling. You look happy.

Probably a smile.

“I’m a genius,” he whispers. A genius for coming up with the nickname and for making you happy.

“Sure, Kevin.” You grunt a little as he shifts his weight. “Come on, get up. We’ll see if you’re still a genius tomorrow if you wake up and remember all of this.”

Kevin doesn’t register much for the rest of the night, just remembers falling into his bed and forcing you to lie down next to him. The next morning, he wakes up with a throbbing headache and the vague, ever-present worry that he said something stupid last night.

You’re not in the bed with him anymore. Kevin blinks once, twice, before trying to sit up so to figure out where you went. Then he remembers you don’t live here. You probably went home.

Which is why he nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you appear in his doorway, holding a mug of coffee and a glass of water.

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. Kevin’s not sure what thoughts are running through your head, but he knows he’s trying to piece together what happened last night, and whether or not he should be hiding under the covers out of embarrassment.

Then it hits him.

Sun.

Moon.

Genius.

Oh, God.

Kevin wants to die.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, using your new nickname in the desperate hope that it’ll distract you from remembering the rest of what he said last night.

A catlike smirk curls your lips as you walk over, pressing the glass of water into his hands. A feeling of dread fills Kevin’s heart as he takes it.

“Morning, genius,” you say with enough evil delight to power Changmin for a year.

Kevin groans. “I was drunk.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Your teasing smile melts into something gentler as you place your mug on the bedside table, turning to bring the glass of water in his hands to his lips. “Coffee’s mine, don’t touch it or I’ll break a bone. Drink the water. I made some breakfast, so come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. After you’ve brushed your teeth.”

Warmth courses through Kevin’s body, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol from last night and everything to do with how you’re here in body and mind, sweetly helping him recover from a stupid hangover even when it’s definitely not your problem to take care of and you probably have better things to do. His heart thumps, loud enough that he thinks you could probably hear it.

In this moment, Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for anything than you coming into his life.

“Got it.” He awkwardly tries to salute, but he does it with the hand holding the glass and the water nearly spills onto the bed. As his cheeks flush, you break into snorting giggles.

Even though it’s at his expense, Kevin thinks he would do anything, anything in the world, to keep that wonderful smile on your face and that musical laughter in the air.

. . . . .

iv.

Only when you move in together does Kevin realize just how taxing your job is. He had an idea from when you sometimes had to cancel or move around dates, but when you did meet up, you were usually energetic and cheerful. Of course, there were the token dates where you just came over to Kevin’s apartment or he came over to yours and you just flopped around for a few hours. Outside, though, you always showed a bright face.

But that was because dates were mostly on your days off or when your hours were short, and as a result, you felt good enough, energized enough to show Kevin your brilliant smile. When you first moved in together, Kevin felt a bit surprised – well, maybe not surprised, but saddened – that you didn’t have the energy to smile as brightly as he saw before.

It’s fine by Kevin, though. You smile often enough, and if your teeth don’t show as much as they used to, there’s something beautiful, something calming and sweet in the slower curve of your lips, the gentle, lethargic way you lean up for a kiss. After all, Kevin has enough energy to compensate for when you might lack some of yours.

(It helps that he can cook, he thinks. Even when the kids at school sometimes wear him out, the brief sparkle in your eye that spreads across your lips when you walk through the door to see him stirring something on the stove is more than enough to make up for it.)

You’re cute, too, when you’re tired. Though Kevin loves it when you’re energetic and ready for whatever the day has decided to throw in your path, there’s something so peaceful, so pleasant about feeling you lying lethargically against his side on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book or just resting, doing nothing but breathing softly. Kevin cherishes those small moments, the soft atmosphere where he kisses your hair and you smile, reach up, and press a kiss of your own to his cheek.

Tonight is one of those nights, a night of soft, comforting silence, words few and far between. It’s been a bit warm lately, so Kevin’s elected to wear one of the tank tops he keeps for the warmer months instead of his usual sweater.

You sit next to him on the couch, back pressed to his side as you send off emails on your phone. Kevin’s working too, inputting grades on his laptop. He hums a little under his breath to take his mind off of the monotony of his task.

At some point, you finish, putting down your phone with a sigh and slumping into his ribs. Kevin starts at the sudden movement. “Sunshine,” he whines, even though he could really care less.

“Moon boy,” you parrot in the same tone of voice.

Kevin’s attention turns back to his laptop, so he barely registers you shifting on the couch to a new position. He does notice it, though, when your fingers start trailing along his skin, exposed by the lack of sleeves on his tank top, because your touch tickles.

You completely ignore his resulting twitch of surprise, only keep tracing the skin of his rib cage. Kevin looks down, confused as to what’s caught your attention.

Oh. His tattoos.

“Sunshine?” he asks softly, watching your fingers shift along his skin.

“Mm,” you hum, eyes still fixated on the ink decorating his side.

“Sleepy?”

Slowly, you shake your head, fingers paused on the image of Mickey Mouse. “Not yet.”

He goes back to inputting grades, all the while still aware of your fingers tracing the lines, the curls, the swirls of black ink along his side. When he finishes, he looks over before closing his laptop to see your eyes still focused on his skin.

Something in his heart explodes, spreading a tingly, comforting warmth throughout his body. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with your presence, a feeling of absolute security, absolute trust, absolute warmth that comes with falling in love with you.

You look up, noticing his lack of movement. “Finished, moonbeams?”

“First moon boy, now moonbeams?” Kevin teases you lightly, picking up the hand you were using to trace his skin and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Just like every other time he’s ever done it, a wide smile spreads across your face and a shyness sparkles in your eyes, as though you still can’t believe the bliss of the moment.

(At least, that’s what Kevin feels every time you do something to remind him that he’s yours.)

Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Can’t call you moonshine, that’s an alcohol.” You shrug as best as you can in your stretched-out position. “Moonbeams, moon boy… whatever feels right.”

Kevin puts his laptop on the coffee table. As he leans back into the couch, you curl up into him, one hand still lingering against the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his side. “Tell me about these?” you ask, pressing your fingers a bit more firmly against the ink.

His tattoos are personal, serving as reminders of the past and inspiration to keep moving. Rarely does he share their meanings with anyone (not that people usually ask, because the tattoos are mostly covered by his clothes), and only with those who mean the world to him.

Kevin thinks you qualify as one of them.

Touching your shoulders, he turns you around slightly, just enough to press a short, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sunshine.” He smiles, gazing into your eyes, feeling the warmth of your love travel through his limbs. “Which one first?”

. . . . .

Kevin Moon, for the majority of his life, has hovered in between being classified as a morning person or a night owl. Yes, he gets up at six in the morning for a cup of coffee, but he also stays up past midnight doing… stuff. Grading, writing reports, watching cat videos, wasting time.

(When Changmin judges his lifestyle, Kevin just reminds him that he fell in love with his roommate’s hookup and is on a dance team with the parent of one of his students.)

Honestly, if Kevin didn’t remind himself every so often that he’s currently a full adult, his lifestyle would make him think he was still in college. He certainly still acts like it when he isn’t working. Procrastinating? Check. Crying over reports he needs to submit at three a.m.? Check. Flopping around on the floor when life is going badly? Check.

And most importantly: nonexistent sleep schedule? Check.

You put a stop to that real quick when you move in, both directly and indirectly. Directly, you make an appointment for him at a sleep clinic after figuring out his shitty sleep patterns, and Kevin finds out he probably has mild insomnia. The aftermath is horrible – you put him on a strict sleep schedule and all but ban caffeine from his diet (goodbye, morning coffee) – but it helps, after a couple of weeks. He sleeps better. Perks of having a partner who works in medicine.

Indirectly, though, you probably make a bigger difference.

See, the way Kevin thinks about it, he just never had a lot of reasons to stay in bed very long. Even though he appreciates sleep, really appreciates it on long days, it’s just that he can’t really force it if it doesn’t want to come. He’d also rather be doing something productive (or not productive, depends on the asker’s perspective) than lying awake for hours, anyway.

But now that he’s waking up to a face he loves?

Well, even if you sometimes disappear before he wakes (hospital hours are whack as hell, but sadly, you can’t ignore your job), Kevin will just say your warmth is a powerful incentive to stay huddled under the covers, even if he can’t fall back asleep.

He still wakes up every morning to grey light beginning to peek through the window. No matter how hard he tries to sleep in just a little longer, his body can’t seem to stay unconscious past six in the morning, so both of you have just resigned yourselves to the fact that Kevin will always be an early riser.

Before you walked into his life, he would’ve rolled out of bed almost immediately, stumbled to the bathroom (and maybe knocked his knee against the doorframe, who knows), then started brewing coffee in the kitchen to start the day.

Now?

A drowsy smile begins to make its way across Kevin’s face, soft as the morning light, when his brain catches up to the present and he registers your warmth under the covers. Sleepily, he blinks, taking in the sight of your peaceful face buried halfway in the sheets.

You shouldn’t look this beautiful, Kevin thinks, not with your hair strewn all over the pillow, blankets rumpled around your shoulders, arms outstretched so that one sort of curls over his body while the other is held up to your chest. It’s the morning – no one should look pretty and put-together. That isn’t natural.

(Unless you happy to be Kim Younghoon, but that’s another story.)

Yet you somehow look like a sleeping deity in Kevin’s mind, even with your hair a mess and drool drying on the pillowcase. As the drowsiness clears from his eyes, as the light from the window grows brighter, Kevin can barely even think of moving, of disturbing your peace.

He dislikes your alarm. It’s loud, annoying, and hits him with a jolt when he’s just trying to take these stolen morning moments to admire your beauty. When he complains about it the first time, you tell him to serve as the alarm, to wake you up himself.

Kevin counters that he’s an artist, that he needs peace and quiet to give beauty of such a degree the respect it deserves. You just roll your eyes, telling him that if he isn’t going to wake you up, the alarm’s going to have to take that job. The smile on your face, though, and the brief kiss you press to his lips right after, speaks volumes for the emotions Kevin’s words make you feel.

(He loves flustering you like this, even if you pretend his words don’t make you feel some sort of way.)

So eventually, you wake, eyes fluttering as the alarm brings you back to the conscious plane. Kevin’s heart feels like it’s bursting when your eyes fully open, blearily blinking at the world.

“Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, running one hand through your hair.

You lean slightly into the touch, the corners of your lips twitching up. And every day, as he stares into your sleepy eyes, lips curling as you whisper a quiet “Morning, moon boy” in reply, Kevin knows he’s falling, falling in love with every part of you.

. . . . .

+i.

Kevin’s waiting in front of the school when you pull up at the curb. Smiling apologetically, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek as you step out of the car. “Sorry, sunshine.” He gestures at the two small boys standing beside him, absorbed in their own world. “Their uncle’s running late and Changmin and Jacob have things to do, so I need to wait for Sangyeon to pick them up before we can go.”

“No worries.” You return the kiss, smiling as bright as the sun. Kevin feels a flash of pride for coming up with a nickname that fits you so well. “We have the whole afternoon, don’t we?”

“That, we do.” He grins, squeezing your hand.

“Mr. Moon, who’s that?” a small voice asks closer to the ground. The two of you turn to see Sunwoo and Eric trotting over, curious looks on their faces.

Kevin looks over at you, but you’re already bending down to get to eye level with the two boys. “Oh, hello!” Your grin, if possible, grows wider. “I’m Y/N, Kevin’s significant other. What are your names?”

“I’m Eric,” Eric pipes up. “This is my brother, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo just stares with round eyes. Well, he’s always been the shyer of the two.

“Those are lovely names,” you reply smoothly, giving Sunwoo an encouraging smile. Kevin feels his heart melt completely at how well you interact with the kids. “I’m just going to be waiting with Kevin until your uncle picks you up, is that okay?”

The two kids nod and immediately go back to babbling in their own little world. Kevin notices the fond smile on your face, and his heart melts even more.

“They’re so cute,” you whisper to him.

“I know, right?” Kevin clutches his heart dramatically. “Can you imagine teaching them every day?”

Just as you’re shaking your head in comic disbelief, another car pulls up behind yours. A harried-looking young man quickly exits and Eric and Sunwoo cheer, distracted by the arrival of their uncle.

“Sorry about this,” Sangyeon says, absentmindedly patting Eric’s head as the boy hugs his leg. Sunwoo seems to be attempting to climb onto his uncle’s back. “Traffic wasn’t the kindest when I was getting out of work.” Then he notices you. “Oh, hello. Are you Kevin’s partner?”

“That I am.” You stick out a hand. “I’m Y/N, and I’ve been told you’re Sangyeon?”

Sangyeon nods, smiling. “Nice to meet you. And to see that Kevin’s found someone to deal with his antics.”

Kevin blushes as you laugh. “Hey,” he complains. “No jokes at my expense, please.”

“Sure, moonbeams.” You roll your eyes, then turn back to Sangyeon. “It’s nice to meet you. Your nephews are adorable.”

The smile that Sangyeon gives the two boys clambering around him says it all. “They are, aren’t they?” He checks his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go now. My sister’s expecting us back soon, and I’m already a bit late.”

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief. No more teasing at his expense from Sangyeon, at least, though there’s no guarantee from you. “Nice seeing you, Sangyeon. And have a good day, kids.”

A small chorus of “You too, Mr. Moon!” sounds, and Kevin expects that to be the end. Sangyeon will herd the boys into the car, Kevin will follow you into yours, and then you’ll go your separate ways. What he doesn’t expect is for Sunwoo to look out at you from behind his uncle’s leg, round eyes cautiously curious, and ask you a question.

“Y/N?”

Immediately, you turn around, teasing smirk melting into a gentle smile for the small boy. “Yes, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo’s eyes dart between you and Kevin. Then, softly, shyly – “Do you love Mr. Moon?”

Time seems to stop as Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden question, but you only look back at him, eyes soft and sparkling in the sunlight.

Your answer glitters in your gaze.

Though you’re supposed to be talking to Sunwoo, your eyes stay fixed on Kevin, strong and unyielding, yet gentle and affectionate, as you answer. Your voice is soft when you reply. “Yes, Sunwoo. I do love him.” The smile on your face grows wider as you turn back to the child. “I love him very much.”

Indescribable warmth floods Kevin’s chest and tears prick his eyes. And as Sangyeon hurries his nephews away, as you turn around to unlock your car, one truth burns with absolute, crystal-clear certainty in his mind.

He isn’t falling in love with you, not anymore. No, he’s far past that stage.

Kevin Moon is completely, wholly, irrevocably in love with you.

“Kevin?” You look at him from the other side of the car. “You coming?”

A wide grin spreads across his face as he meets your sparkling eyes. Love blooms in his chest.

“Coming, sunshine.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for kevin’s whipped ass ksjdkgsdhjk)

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inadaydream99 · 4 years

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hello! if it’s okay, could i please request a skz reaction where they reject you but end up regretting it because they realized they really you? if it’s too much, maybe a member of your choice? thank you so much! and please do not rush! take as much time as you need!

Hi, thanks for requesting! I made this quite fluffy, but a few are angst and I also did all members because I couldn’t pick just one 😂 I really hope you enjoy!

Chan

The humiliation was real. Being rejected is more embarrassing that you think, especially when it’s by one of your friends.

You’d had a crush on Chan for a very long time. You’ve just never said anything until now in fear of rejection and, as it turns out, you should have just kept your feelings to yourself.

You couldn’t even look at him as you heard him mutter “I’m sorry.”, nodding your head in responce as it hangs low.

It’s been a few days since then and you’ve not stopped replaying the scene in your head since. Your mind is literally torturing you, making you cringe and you just end up stuffing your face into your pillow in a weak attempt at repressing it.

Just as you’re finally about to fall asleep you hear a knock on your front door, whining as you sit up on your bed before dragging yourself to see who could possible be visiting you.

Your breath hitches when you open the door to reveal Chan stood on the opposite side. He looks nervous, swinging back and forth on his feet impatiently. Your eyes lock instantly and for a minute you feel like you are dreaming.

“Do you believe in second chances?” He breaks the shocked silence, a relieved smile growing on his face when you nod yes, still in a daze.

“Then I’d really like to take that chance. I regretted letting you go without telling you how I really feel.” Chan continues, slowly becoming more confident and bubbly with each passing second.

“I guess you’ll have to tell me now then.” You tease with an elated grin on your face.

Minho

Minho hated himself for pushing you away. He hated himself for being the reason you are upset. But most of all he hated himself because he is so madly in love with you and he ruined any chance to tell you.

That is until he has an epiphany while moping around. If you won’t listen to him or respond to any of his messages, then he’ll just have to find a way to win you over, a way that you can’t ignore.

“I may not show it often, but you mean everything to me!” Minho shouts up to you from the middle of the street.

It 2am and freezing outside, but he doesn’t care. He’s finally been able to get your attention by throwing pebbles at your window and playing your favourite song on full blast through his speaker, what a cliché moment.

“I’m in love with you.” He shouts at the top of his lungs.

The cheesy grin on your face can’t possibly be hidden. You never thought you would ever see Minho do anything like this. Risking everything just to tell you how he feels.

“I love you too!” You shout back, letting all your worries go and just living in the moment.

“Can you two be quiet!” You hear a voice shout out. One of your neighbours must have grown tired of all the noise.

You both snicker at one another in giddy amusement, feeling like devious kids. Partners in crime.

You signal to Minho that you’ll be down in a minute, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs to meet him in the blustering wind. Ready to start a new chapter together.

Changbin

“I never want to be the reason you’re hurting.” Changbin takes your hand in his, pleaing for forgiveness from you.

What had started off as a lighthearted conversation amongst the group had turned sour pretty fast. It all started because Seungmin asked Changbin if he would ever date you in front of everyone. It wasn’t intentional on Seungmin’s part to cause an argument, he thought it was quite a funny question to ask because you and Changbin have been best friends for so long. But when Changbin said “no” without even a seconds thought you were deeply hurt. Was there something repulsive about you to him?

“Then why did you reject me in front of everyone?” You defensively retort. You’re not impressed with him right now, and rightly so. But you can see the genuine regret he feels which makes it hard to stay mad for very long.

“Because I panicked... I didn’t want you find find out how I feel about you like that.” Changbin mumbles, feeling nervous in his confession to you. He knows that he has to be honest with you now because he can’t stand the idea of losing you completely.

“How do you feel about me?” You encourage him to continue, your body language becoming less defensive as you relax your shoulders.

“Like you’re the only person who’s opinion I care about, that you light up any room you enter instantly... that you are the only one I ever want to be with.” Changbin’s words are heartfelt and you can tell it’s taken a lot of courage for him to say them.

“I feel the same about you.” You manage to respond whilst holding back tears of joy.

Hyunjin

“So I overreacted, I do that all the time!” Hyunjin throws his hands up defensively, his excuse falling on deaf ears as he rants away to Minho.

“But you still rejected (Y/N), regardles of how you feel now.” Minho looks up from his phone to see Hyunjin’s reaction.

“Then what should I do?” He whines, dramatically falling against the table in distress. At least he’d finally stoped pacing the room.

“You go and appologise?” Minho sarcastically states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Hyunjin just mimickes him, annoyed by his lack of sympathy towards the situation. Though anyone would feel agitated when it’s all Hyunjin has gone on about for the last few days.

You stand in shock having answered the door to reveal Hyunjin and after ten minutes of him apologising and begging for you to give him a chance to redeem himself (a little too loudly for comfort), it’s your turn to speak.

“It’s gonna take a while to redeem yourself, but maybe we can try.” You agree, rolling your eyes playfully when Hyunjin crushes you in a tight hug, repeatedly thanking you for a second chance.

Jisung

“I did the one thing I promised myself I’d never do...” Jisung sighs in defeat. He can barely look you in the eye as he faces the consequences of his actions.

You’d initially been disheartened when he rejected you, but he was sympathetic towards your feelings and gently let you down rather than being too harsh. You even smiled through the pain and embarrassment, agreeing to not let it ruin your friendship.

But that was almost a year ago now. You have moved on from your crush on Jisung and recently started seeing someone new.

So when he suddenly confesses that he has feelings for you, you aren’t too sure how to react. Initially you feel mad because you feel loke he is messing with your emotions. But the longer you have to process the information, the more you understand where he is coming from.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re not happy, but seeing you with someone else hurts.” He continues, finally mustering up enough courage to look at you and take in your reaction.

“I don’t know what to say...” You sigh, watching as Jisung takes a deep breath and nod his head. He looks like he is preparing himself for rejection, just like he did to you, and that’s what makes it so hard for you to do.

“Regardless of my feelings towards you, I’m with someone else.” Your chest aches from seeing his solumn face, it’s just as painful being the rejector.

“Can I just know... if I’d not rejected you last year, would I still have a chance?” Jisung’s voice is shallow and weak, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears.

You can no longer speak, feeling absolutely terrible, so you just nod yes, shooting him a meek smile.

Felix

Felix holds the cake outstretched in his hands, sending you a pleading smile. “I’m sorry.” He apologises, a hopeful look on his face.

You can’t help but crack a smile, laughing at your goofy friend.

“Felix why do you have a cake?” You raise your brow. Truthfully, you find the whole situation hilarious, only Felix would do something so endearing and sweet like bake you a cake when he wants to make things up to you.

“A good way to appologise is with cake.” He states like it’s a well known fact. “And I was kind of hoping that you’ll love the cake so much you’ll give me a second chance, because I really like you (Y/N).” He continues, catching you off guard. You’d never expected him to change his mind after rejecting you.

“Well, it is a really pretty cake... but are you sure?” You act coy, not wanting to give your feelings away in case he has another change of heart.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He admits confidently, an elated grin on his face when you accept the cake and grab his hand, dragging him into your apartment.

Seungmin

“I will fix what I have broken.” Seungmin is so determined to get you back that he almost sounds angry. Even Hyunjin flinches a little at his words, watching silently as Seungmin marches off to find you.

After having confessed to Seungmin a couple of weeks ago, you hadn’t spoken to him since. You just felt too embarrassed and awkward to face him and so your friendship crumbled.

“(Y/N) we need to talk.” Seungmin comes striding into your work, making the small office fall deathly silent.

“Seungmin I’m working right now.” You whisper, your eyes darting around the room self consciously to make sure no one is watching you.

“But it’s important.” He states, shooting you his best puppy eyes so you’ll give into him.

“Ugh fine.” You cave, ushering him into the empty room next door so you have some privacy.

“I like you.” Your eyes grow wide at his confession. Had you heard him right?

“But... you-”

“I know and I’m so sorry. It made me realise that there’s a part of me missing when you’re not around.” Seungmin anxiously explains. His demeanour has done a 180 degree flip now, he looks timid and nervous as he wait for you to process the information.

“I wish you’d realised sooner, but I guess better late than never.” You tease, feeling your heart skip a beat upon seeing Seungmin’s face light up with the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen.

Jeongin

“Caught off guard was an understatement.” Jeongin reasons, trying everything he has to get you to forgive him. But he’s the reason you’re heartbroken, he can’t keep playing with your fragile emotions like this.

“No, you had your chance. I can’t believe you have the audacity to make excuses like this. You humiliated me in front of all my closest friends.” You remain strong, your face void of any emotion, regeardless of how difficult it is to see Jeongin like this.

“Just give me a chance to make it up to you.” He begs. It’s almost pathetic how desperate he looks right now.

“Goodbye Jeongin.” You snarl, slamming the door shut in his face. Jeongin stands defeated on the opposite side of the door. He knows this is what he deserves, but it’s never nice to get a taste of what you dish out to others.

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

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and I’ve been thinking about it lately // george weasley

Summary: friends // it was easy to be friends with george weasley

Request: nee

A/N: once again!!! I used Y/L/N which is last name :) this is part 2 of the fic I just posted!!!! obviously?? anyways I loved this

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

“Looks like we’re partners,” George said, sliding into the seat next to yours and grinning. He felt a little nervous given your turbulent history, but it seemed that you were about to surprise him, as you always managed to.

“Just my luck,” you retorted, your voice lacking its usual amount of bite despite your scowl.

He smirked at your tone, surprised at much he enjoyed your new-found acquaintanceship.

“Can’t believe you got paired up with that loser, Weasley,” Malfoy said to you from behind, leaning over his desk so his annoyingly pompous voice carried. “Which one are you again?”

Before George could open his mouth and put the little git in his place, he was beaten to the punch.

“And why are you talking to me, Malfoy?” you said slowly, not even looking at him as you opened your textbook. You smiled slightly at his angry muttering and the scrape of his chair on the floor.

When you looked at George, only to see him making smug faces at Malfoy before turning to you and smirking, you rolled your eyes, still finding his ability to rile your feathers disturbingly uncanny.

“You can do the uses-“

“Why?” he said loudly, returning your scowl as you glared at him.

“Because I told you to.”

“And so, what? I should just do it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, in that case, your highness.”

You shot him a dark look and he opened his mouth to continue your bickering when a dark figure loomed behind you.

“Mr Weasley, Ms Y/L/N.” Snape’s voice cut through the silence of the room. “Do you find squabbling like children in my class to be a good use of your time?”

Following Snape’s little scolding, you tried desperately to avoid his wrath for the rest of the lesson. This was a goal that proved harder than initially anticipated given the nature of the boy sitting next to you. Halfway through the lesson, you found yourself biting your nails, trying to figure out the purpose of adding Eye of Newt when George caught your eye. He winked and you glowered in return, but he could see the upward curve of your lips and considered himself once again pleasantly surprised.

He could barely contain his laughter, though, when around ten minutes later you stuck your tongue out at him when you caught him looking around the room for a distraction. It was strange, you though, to be so light-hearted with him; not bad though, not at all.

He snickered until he felt Snape’s eyes on him and immediately ducked his head, not eager to receive another detention after the last Thursday night he spent polishing trophies. The idea of George getting in trouble made you smirk, though, and you looked over to tease him only to see Snape’s sour expression.

Your eyes widened as you quickly looked down again and pursed your lips tightly. You both watched him walk in front of your desk slowly, gliding past you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders. George snorted and you kicked him under the table, finding it almost impossible to contain your own laughter with Snape watching you so closely.

The man himself, like a dark shadow, loomed over your bench and reluctantly, you both looked up. Snape’s eyes flickered from yours to George’s slowly, suspiciously. As you both waited silently for the inevitable punishment, you couldn’t help your amusement brewing and you cursed George and his stupidity for always somehow making you laugh.

“Class…” Snape drawled, his dark gaze never leaving your faces. “Dismissed.”

You concealed your laughter until you got outside the room where you immediately burst into giggles. You shoved George lamely with your hand, shaking your head.

“You are the worst!” you insisted, huffing as he grinned. You scoffed, biting your lip.

Both you and George stared at each other for a moment, your combined breathing the only sound in the hallway as your laughter died down. The air turned thick rather quickly and wading through the awkward silence, you remembered that you really ought to get to your next class. You made to leave, not wanting to extend the odd tension for any longer when George stopped you, his hand on your arm. You stiffened under his touch and he lifted his palm quicker than you’d thought possible. Your insides churned.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?” he said, his eyebrows raised, an oddly guarded look in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“…Yes.”

“Oh, brilliant,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulder and ushering you in the right direction. “We can walk there together.”

You grunted and pushed him off indelicately, shooting him a deadpan look when he grinned. You urged yourself to be normal - whatever that was.

“Joyous,” you said so dryly he barked a loud laugh, a laugh that made you forget how weird you’d felt only minutes before. You were glad to return to more familiar territory.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like me,” he said glibly, hoping that you couldn’t tell how unsure he was about the idea. Why did he even care if you liked him? He barely even liked you a week ago. You rolled your eyes again and he swallowed against the tightness of his throat.

“I assure you, there’s no pretence involved whatsoever.”

Either he didn’t have a witty response or just chose to ignore you, but he only hummed as you both wandered to the third floor.

Professor Lupin, you discovered quickly, was thankfully nothing like Professors Quirrell or Lockhart; that was in the sense that he actually seemed somewhat competent at his job. You were quite enjoying the lesson until he introduced the boggart, something that you definitely did not want to face, especially not in a room full of people that you didn’t know, didn’t like and George, who you were unsure about where he sat in that particular Venn diagram. With a poorly concealed rush, you joined the back of the queue that curled around the room as Fred and George, ever the showmen joined the front.

You expected George’s worst fear to be something stupid; something like clowns or people not laughing at his dumb jokes. What you did not expect was to see the boggart turn into George himself; how you could tell the difference between him and Fred was not something you dared to question. The boggart was holding a white rose and stood there in a suit, the type you’d never believe that George would ever wear, and as he faced it, he gulped. You frowned, something about the whole thing piquing your interest. Maybe George Weasley wasn’t everything you thought he was.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, watching with wide eyes as the boggart’s white rose crumbled into dozens of pieces, each hitting the ground with a sharp thud. Its face morphed into Filch’s and suddenly the whole classroom was alive with laughter at the sight of Filch attempting to find footing on a floor of marbles. Finding you across the class, pleased to see a faint smirk on your lips, George winked. You scoffed, shaking your head. Maybe George Weasley was exactly what you thought he was.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” he said cockily as he walked over. The rest of the class shrieked in laughter as another fear turned into something hilarious, but you weren’t paying attention.

“You’re an imbecile.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Most definitely.”

“I dare you to do something better,” he said, his competitive streak showing. He watched, though, with intrigue, as your face turned pale and your expression uncomfortable.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” you snapped, perhaps too harshly. He glowered, dozens of cruel retorts collecting on his tongue before he stopped, noticing the way your fingers pulled nervously at your sleeve and your eyes darted around the room.

For the first time since knowing you, George realised that you were actually scared of something and despite how much he loved to irritate you, your fearful expression didn’t sit well with him at all.

“Did you hear that Neville turned his into Snape wearing his grandma’s clothes?” he said, his stare far too obvious for his tone to be so casual. He tried, though, and you almost appreciated his attempt to be subtle as he avoided mentioning your conversational hand grenade. He watched confusion, and then recognition, flash over your features.

“I can’t believe Longbottom’s boggart was Snape,” you scoffed, crossing your arms tightly. George frowned, opening his mouth to defend him. Whilst he and Neville weren’t the best of friends, George wasn’t a fan of people teasing him, especially Slytherins. From all he knew about you, he could only expect mockery to tumble lazily from your lips.

“Neville’s-“

“How psychotic do you have to be for a kid to fear you like that?”

George’s mouth dried up a little and for the first time in a long time, he was rendered speechless. His eyes trailed over your scowling face.

“I’ll say,” he said softly, watching you closely to gauge your reaction. “I figured you’d like Snape; being a Slytherin and all.”

You made a face. “He’s a bully. Fantastic wizard, mind, but an awful person.”

George mused on your words for a moment. He didn’t really know what to say, but he was saved by the point of Fred’s wand and the sight of a younger, screaming Ron Weasley legging it away from a gigantic spider. You exhaled out of your nose as Fred came over, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“That was brilliant, mate,” George said to his brother, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“What did you think Y/N?” Fred asked, flicking his hair over his shoulder. “Am I a comedic genius or what?”

“I think I’ll have to go with ‘or what’ on that one,” you hummed, smiling at their stupidly dramatic reactions.

Much to your surprise, it wasn’t just the twins that you’d come to tolerate. As you walked over to the Gryffindor table, your fingers drumming against your leg, you thought about how, against all odds, you’d developed a very unexpected friendship with Hermione Granger. Hours of polite co-existing at the library managed to do that to a person.

“Oi, Granger,” you said, stopping behind Ron, ignoring the way his face soured when he saw you. “Do you have that book I leant you on muggle war history?”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, throwing her hand to her chest before she rifled through her bag and handed over a thick hardback. “Yes, here, thank you.”

You nodded at her before turning to walk away, catching Harry’s eye in the process. You circled back, an amused smirk working its way onto your lips.

“Saw you flying that hippogriff earlier, Potter. Must say, I’m quite impressed. Especially after what it did to Malfoy’s arm.”

“Uh,” he said, not quite sure where to look. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Ooh,” George said, sitting down next to Harry as Fred sat opposite him.

“Has someone got a crush?” Fred asked, goading you with his teasing tone.

“Someone’s about to get crushed,” you replied happily, your overly cheerful voice sending the twins into hysterics.

You pursed your lips, but the amused smile on your face didn’t escape Hermione’s keen eye.

“Excited for quidditch tomorrow then, Y/N?” George said with a cocky grin. “We’re gonna absolutely decimate the Hufflepuffs.”

“Like that’s hard,” Fred added, nodding his head.

“As much as I would love to see you two do absolutely nothing for a few hours,” you smirked as their expressions wilted. “I have no interest in torturing myself watching a game I can’t play.”

“Why can’t you play?” Harry asked, a confused frown knitting his brows together.

“Flint banned me for three matches; says it’ll ‘help remind me where my loyalties should lie’. Smug bastard.”

You rolled your eyes, remembering the dumb look on his face and the haughtiness of his tone.

“What? He’s not letting you play because of that enchanted bludger last year? But you were only helping Harry!” Hermione said, her voice indignant.

“I think that’s the issue, Hermione,” Harry said almost guiltily.

“Well, that’s hardly fair, is it?” Ron said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. He winced as he prepared himself for your reaction, quite surprised really when you only shrugged and kissed your teeth.

“Not to worry, he’ll put me back in after the Ravenclaw match,” you insisted, the clock on the wall catching your eye. “I’m irreplaceable.”

You winked at Ron as you walked backwards, finding it best not to be late for Snape’s study session given your recent antics with George. Your laughter followed you out the hall as you left Ron blushing bright pink in your wake.

There was a large possibility that you might have lied. Or perhaps you just hadn’t made up your mind yet. It really didn’t matter though because Potter sure was lucky that you’d dragged yourself to see the match in the end. You obviously hadn’t anticipated him falling so hard so fast, but given that you’d been lurking by the players’ entrance to the pitch to get the best view of the game, you were by far the first to reach him when he hit the ground with a resounding thud.

You perched on the bed opposite him, sitting on the railing and hoping that Madam Pomfrey was too occupied with the injured Hufflepuffs to scold you.

“He looks a bit peaky,” Ron said, leaning over Harry who, admittedly, did look rather pale. “Doesn’t he?”

You cursed yourself for being so worried about Harry Potter, of all people, but despite your best intentions, you had a soft spot for the kid and you reasoned that anybody falling out of the sky would’ve earnt exactly the same response.

“Peaky?” George scoffed, looking at his little brother.

“I’d expect,” Fred snorted.

“He fell over a hundred feet.”

“Yeah, Ron. Let’s walk you off the Astronomy Tower.”

“See what you look like.”

You rolled your eyes. They really were idiots.

“Probably a darn sight better than he usually does,” Harry said, his voice croaky. You snorted, leaning forward to get a better look at Hogwarts’ resident skydiver. George glanced at you, grinning at the noise you’d made as he moved to sit by Harry.

“You gave us a right good scare there, mate,” he said, shaking his head. Despite your oath to never do so, you had to agree with him. Harry’s eyes flicked from George to the twigs that were left of his broomstick nestled in Ron’s arms, and then finally to you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning.

You chuckled as you stood up and made towards the bed, walking past Longbottom, who edged away away from you nervously.

“Just checking you’re still alive, Potter,” you said lazily, catching George’s eye as you turned to leave.

“She helped bring you in,” he said, looking at you for a moment before bringing his attention back to Harry.

“Seems like she’s your guardian angel on that quidditch pitch,” Fred joked, his laughter echoing down the corridor as you took a leisurely stroll back to the dungeon.

You didn’t see Fred or George for a while after that which was worrying, to say the least; if not only because that meant that they were planning something. You managed to muster a smile for Harry in the hallway one time, figuring he needed it with all the rumours going around about Sirius Black being his godfather. It probably came out like more of a grimace, you mused.

It felt normal, though, to return to your life before your truce with George Weasley; back to your normal friends and normal problems that didn’t involve teenagers falling from the sky. Disappointingly, with your friends busy revising for the upcoming Transfiguration test, a test you knew that you’d ace, you almost convinced yourself to ditch Hogsmeade for the day. However, something about the fresh snow on the ground or the idea of Christmas just around the corner swayed you and you found yourself huddled in your coat, rushing through the halls of Hogwarts.

The last people you expected (or wanted) to see were Fred and George, walking through the quad with matching woolly hats and coats. You debated it for a moment. You could just ignore them, but no doubt they’d notice you shadowing them at some point. And you were friends now, right?

The thought struck you with less distaste than you imagined it would and it seemed, at that point, that your mind was made up.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be at Hogsmeade?” you shouted, quirking an eyebrow at them as they turned around, waiting for you to catch up.

“Couldn’t we ask you the same thing?” George said, grinning cheekily.

“I was just leaving, actually.”

“Oh, splendid,” Fred said, his tone mocking. “We absolutely have to go together, then.”

“If we must,” you said, the perfect picture of resignation.

“You know you love us, Y/N,” George said, elbowing you in the ribs.

“I’ll pretend that’s true for your own sake.”

“You see that, George?” Fred asked, pointing at his brother as you walked between them. “And they say Slytherin’s aren’t kind.”

You couldn’t help the smile that lifted your cheeks.

It was unfortunate, really, because you couldn’t shake that smile for the rest of the day. Against your better judgement, you joined the twins in the Three Broomsticks, laughing and joking over pints of butterbeer. If anybody asked, the whole experience was deplorable, but in reality, you were actually enjoying yourself. So much so that you didn’t even notice the stares you were getting from across the pub.

“Can you believe that?” Seamus asked, jerking a thumb at you. “Did you ever think the bloody Weasley twins would be friends with a Slytherin?”

Dean shook his head, snickering into his glass. “No chance, mate.”

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#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #writing #imagine

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anika-ann · 3 years

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Warm Up My Heart

(...So It Never Gets Cold Again)

Type: One-shot to a series (part 1 & part 2), Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2500

Summary: Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Boy wants to propose soon… boy slips. You know the drill. In which Tony builds a training super-bot, Steve gets a boo-boo and the rest is history.

Warnings: mild injury and violence, swearing, cheesy af fluff

A/N: There weren’t al that many of you reading this series, but since it’s a rewrite/editing stuff for me (something I have time for), I’m bringing it back! I’ve been neglecting it long enough...

Series masterlists (aka previous parts) linked above

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“Captain America’s been brought to his knees. They found his weak spot and he went down all too easily for the world’s first superhero; literally crumbled on the ground, unable to get back up-“

Steve groaned, miserable and extremely annoyed at the same time, and you chuckled, which earned you a wounded look from the supersoldier.

You retreated from his right foot to muffle the sound escaping your mouth with you palm. You couldn’t help it; as much as you felt sorry for Steve, troubled by the fact he was in pain, you knew it wasn’t serious and Tony’s dramatic commentary was just too hilarious.

“Tony, just leave him be. And stop making me laugh,” you pleaded, suddenly back to seriousness. This was no fun; you did need to concentrate. “I might as well freeze his foot off if you keep distracting me.”

It was the truth; you had spent the past minutes trying to cool down Steve’s ankle, which had been sprained. All three of you were now in one of the training rooms of the compound, you and Steve sitting on a bench, while Tony hovered above you. Steve’s leg was resting over your knees, so you could reduce the swelling before it could fully develop.

The injury was totally Tony’s fault.

Being the generous friend and maniac he was, he had invented a special kind of a training super-bot – which had earned him both sharp glares and amused looks. It wasn’t half bad; it actually was a fair competition for Steve, which was saying something. It probably had something to do with the fact Tony had seen Steve in action more than a few times, learning his fighting style; programming his knowledge into the software of the bot meant one less advantage for Steve. Plus, Tony had used some special enforced material-

-which was exactly the problem. It was enforced; too much. And not enough.

When Steve kicked with his full strength, his foot had just… pretty much stuck in the robot’s torso. He had been lucky it hadn’t torn his flesh off and he had ended up only like this – with sprained ankle and few deep scratches which had already stopped bleeding. Incredibly lucky even considering that his instinct had been to get his foot out immediately, so he could go on with the fight; he hadn’t been exactly gentle and patient with freeing himself. Honestly, you were surprised his limbs were still attached.

Now he couldn’t even put his full weight on his injured leg. At least the robot had helped him hobble to the bench, because between your built and Tony’s willingness to talk being way bigger than his willingness to help with Steve’s weight (muscles were heavy), Steve would be still on the ground. Well, limping uselessly on one foot anyway.

“And get me an elastic bandage. Hush! Go make yourself useful!” you ordered, directing Tony towards the door, motioning with your hand in an ‘off you go’ gesture.

“Cap, your girl is bossy and has no respect for elders,” the billionaire complained, but turned on his heels and headed to get a first aid kit. The bot stood by the end of the bench dutifully, not moving an inch.

“I beg to differ, she treats me just fine,” Steve called out after Tony, winking at you as you brought your hands back.

You focused on tuning your powers to the right temperature, hovering only few inches from his skin. You sighed when the door clicked behind Tony and went back to work.

“You okay?” you whispered, glancing up just for a moment before returning your full attention to his injury.

“I’ve had plenty of worse.”

“That’s neither an answer or comforting, you know.”

“I’m much better now,” he admitted softly and you could hear the tender smile in his voice.

It warmed your heart and filled your chest with pride. You knew he meant it as a compliment; and he was not complimenting your powers, not the tool you had been given, but he was praising you for being so skilful with it.

You managed a tiny smile. “I’m glad.”

Your mind raced as you thought of how you could make it even better. You were no doctor; you barely knew the RICE rule, of which you only had two things covered by now; Elevation and Ice. The third was on its way (hopefully, but one never knew with Tony) and the fourth was… probably out of question, because make Steve Rogers rest was way beyond anyone’s ability. You closed your eyes, focusing on the things you actually could control.

Steve apparently understood your need to concentrate, or had nothing to say, because he didn’t utter a word. But the silence was comfortable, kind even. You tried to convince yourself his eyes were roaming around the training room; in reality, you were ninety-nine percent sure he was watching you work and despite all the time spent together, all his efforts to chase your insecurities away and proving countless time that he trusted you… you felt a bit nervous.

Too small under his intense gaze, you could tell that hot blood rushed into your cheeks. It was ridiculous. And it probably made Steve’s lips curl up in a grin, because he had mentioned more than once that he found your embarrassment endearing and entirely adorable. He could always tell.

“Marry me,” he pleaded softly and the shock of those two words spoken threw you off so hard your concentration levelled to zero in an instant.

The temperature you had been treating his ankle with so carefully dropped low beyond the desired one as if you flipped a switch.

You felt the burst of energy from your hands more than you heard his pained hiss and you quickly snapped your eyes open, withdrawing your hands in one swift movement.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, staring at his foot with horror, masochistically examining the damage you had done – a frostbite no doubt, because of course you had done some serious damage-

-well… actually you hadn’t, because apparently your reflexes had improved greatly with time, but the skin had definitely less healthy colour than before and-

“Oh Steve, I am so, so sorry, I swear I didn’t meant to-“

“It’s… it’s okay,” he stuttered, sounding more embarrassed than hurting.

You were relieved; then again, when had Steve Rogers ever admitted he was in pain?

You couldn’t find yourself to look up to his face nevertheless, too horrified and scared. What have you done?

Also… what the hell had he just said? You had imagined it, right? He hadn’t… hadn’t…?

“It wasn’t your fault. That’s completely on me. You said Tony not to distract you and… I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have said that.“

You looked up at him, biting your lip, suddenly convinced that he actually had proposed. Just like that. You didn’t give yourself time to let it sink in or to… indulge the feeling. Because he just apologized for saying it. You would bet all your money that he did regret it now, for multiple reasons.

It kinda stung that he had confessed to it out loud, though.

Okay, fuck it, it hurt like hell, because even when you had never talked about it, it burned down your very soul that he… that he would ever regret asking.

He groaned, covering his red face with his palms.

“I---you’re… injured. Probably confused by the product of Tony’s brilliant ideas. It’s okay, let’s just… forget that, okay? We all say strange things when we’re in pain, things we regret-“

You hated that your voice trembled at the last word and Steve’s hands immediately went down, his blue eyes piercing right through yours. He seemed more horrified than you now.

“I’m sorry. That came out completely wrong. All of it. Oh god…. I do regret it, alright? I’m sorry, Snowflake. I really shouldn’t have said that. Not… not like this,” he added gently and your heart positively stopped as his gaze found you, a new twinkle in his irises.

No, there was nothing new in it. You had seen it before, occasionally. In moments that only belonged to you two, when you were alone or it felt like you were alone, the world around disappearing. When you would catch his gaze across the room while laughing with someone else. When you let your powers draw flowers on the windows of the compound, creating winter decorations that were not exactly allowed in the military space.

Admiration. Tenderness. Dedication. Love.

Your lips parted in surprise as he kept observing you, the emotions changing on your face, flashing with realization. Wait. That was… what? Your breath hitched.

Steve gave you a very nervous smile as he lifted his leg from your lap, setting it back on the ground.

“What are you-“ you snapped from your strange trance immediately, wanting to stop him from whatever he was about to do, because you weren’t finished and goddammit, he needed to keep his leg elevated-

-and not to lower himself from the bench on one knee.

Right in front of you.

As if he was proposing.

Like, really proposing.

You watched him with disbelief when he planted himself into the infamous position, injured ankle in an awkward position, and you would swear that he could hear your heartbeat echoing within the walls of the gym. You sure as hell did, your blood pounding in your ears and your head positively spinning.

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes. You were sure your pupils were wide enough to reduce your irises to nothing.

Steve swallowed loudly, looking up at your face from under his eyelashes, his eyes hopeful and wide as well. At this point, you couldn’t breathe, your ribcage way too small for your swelling heart.

This was happening.

Oh shit, this was happening. Steve was… Steve was-

“Snowflake,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotions and something that you would swear was a hint of fear, “you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and despite your powers, your presence-- you are warm like sunshine. I love you. I love you with my whole heart and… please, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with hope, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you weren’t able to utter a single word and left him waiting for your answer.

You felt like an idiot for leaving him in anticipation and with doubts--- because you loved him. God, you loved this man so much and couldn’t even speak despite being sure with what you wanted to say more than anything.

So you blinked away the solitude tears that gathered in your eyes, because you were a regular sap, and nodded. His face lighted up like Christmas tree – no matter how cliché it sounded, it was the first analogy that came to your mind and it was very true.

Hesitant smile appeared on his lips as he stared at you with same disbelief that must have shown on you own face. “Yeah?”

You chuckled, covering your mouth with your palm before you could let out some very embarrassing sound. You nodded furiously, again and again.

“Yeah,” you breathed out finally and Steve shamelessly grabbed you and pulled you down at him. He fell on his ass, so you both basically crushed into the bench, but you couldn’t help but laugh like a madwoman as he was trying to balance the both of you, you being nestled in his lap all of sudden.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his own body, immediately freeing your hair from the messy bun you wore – just so he could nuzzle his face in it. You could feel his smile against your cheek and then he placed a quick kiss there, then lower, then on your jaw, and then finally found your lips. He kissed you, letting you taste the delight on his tongue, his breath whispering of gratitude, pleading you to say it again.

“Yes,” you repeated simply and earned another kiss, this time longer, passionate and tender, breath-taking and making you feel like flying.

The butterflies in your stomach flipped their wings like crazy – kissing Steve was always an amazing feeling, but this time… you were kissing Steve, your fiancée. He just proposed, he wanted to marry you and you were about to marry him. Excitement tingled in your fingertips, restless and wonderful and your body melted into his, wishing to just merge into one.

You only realized his body was not exactly okay when he retreated an inch, allowing you both to catch your breath and your brain to reboot. Seeing his twinkling eyes, you swallowed the question about his well-being, simply not having the heart to ruin the unexpected, peculiar and pretty magical moment. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyelids falling shut.

“That... that is not how I was planning on doing this,” he whispered, sounding a bit embarrassed, and the corners of your lips twitched, rising even higher. You hadn’t realized you had automatically started smiling the moment your lips had been freed, but apparently you had.

“Are you saying there was a plan, oh my Star-Spangled Man?” you replied with voice as soft as his, teasing him lightly.

“Uhm… I mean… I was working on it, at least. It involved having the ring actually on me instead of having it lying in our room and all that.”

The ring. The ring that was in your room at the moment. He clearly wasn’t just throwing the words around. He… he actually had been planning a proposal. You heart fluttered at the confession.

“But then Steve Rogers’ impulsiveness got in a way and… here we are,” he revealed sheepishly and you didn’t think you could be more moved.

It wasn’t just him thinking about it – it was him losing it in a moment so ordinary like this as if he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His expression turned curious and a bit confused. “Good?”

“Yeah. It’s Steve Rogers I want to marry after all.”

The most gorgeous smile appeared on his lips and you couldn’t resist – you kissed him again. A silent promise of kissing him every day for the rest of your lives.

────── ·❆· ──────

Tony Stark was standing behind the transparent door to the gym, facing away from the two of you, but peeking over his shoulder; an equivalent of subtlety. A grin that was not even a little silly played on his lips and he was not tearing up at all.

Who was he kidding, he was really glad he had added the AV system to his super- bot. Because the record of what definitely looked like a bit strange proposal was something he would miss greatly.

He smirked at the kit in his hand, opened the door for a slit, quietly slipped his hand in – completely unnoticed by the oblivious lovebirds – and left the supplies there.

When he closed the door again soundlessly and made his way out of the area, he couldn’t but mutter under his breath.

“About damn time, Rogers. About damn time.”

────── ·❆· ──────

Next series (Five Times Steve Felt Betrayed and the One Time He Felt like He Was Betraying You)

S.R.masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

So, I had my thoughts on some more storyline (sort of) and got to the point where I felt sorry for not coming up with a concrete plan of how a proposal implied in the next story went. I couldn’t resist and had to come up with some, because reasons.

Apparently, I’m a sucker for pain the concept of proposal going way differently than planned...

Thank you for reading... I hope your week started off well!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #avengers au #one shot #avenger reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #melting hearts #melting hearts series #warm up my heart #anika ann

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cutelittlestar · 4 years

Text

Steal My Girl || Peter Parker x Reader {Smut!}

Summary: While on a trip, Peter plans to confess his feelings to you but everything is ruined by a boy who also has his eyes on you. Once Peter finally unveils the truth, things get steamy...

Word Count: 5.7k

Warning(s): fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, SMUT, language, MATURE CONTENT, 18+ (you & Peter are 18)

A/N: lordtt.....plz forgive me, for I have sinned. This has been secretly written in my notebook for quite some time, and I was always too scared to post it online. Now, I say fuck it. As always, I love you all and I hope you enjoy!!!😘💕❤️

For those of you who may be wondering about my other series, Maniac and Lone Wolf, it may be a while bc of college and work (being an adult SUCKS). But, I promise I’ll try and upload the chapters whenever I can!

*gif is not mine!

Once again, Midtown’s decathlon team was given another opportunity to travel to a different state for a tournament, where they would compete with other high schools for the national title. Peter was extremely excited because this was your first trip with the team, and he wanted you to have an unforgettable experience; that’s why Peter created a meticulous yet worthy plan that would help him accomplish his goal. His plan consisted of various things, such as taking you to popular locations, exploring the city late at night -despite curfew- and doing spontaneous activities he knew you would love. Most importantly, Peter made this plan in hopes that he could confess his feelings for you. He’s had a crush on you since freshman year, but he was always terrified to tell you the truth. Now that senior year was almost over, the pain of withholding his raw emotions was too unbearable to handle. It’s now or never, Peter thought to himself, and for a while, Peter believed his plan was going to work.

But, he was wrong.

Peter’s plan began to crumble the minute that Daniel Miller entered the picture. Daniel was everything that Peter wasn’t - he was perfect, a star-athlete, tall, and he had an impeccable character that made him lovable. Every girl had a huge crush on him, and they had every right to find him appealing. In the beginning, Peter didn’t really seem to care about Daniel, but now that Daniel was purposefully sabotaging Peter’s plan, Peter was beyond angry. Anytime that Peter was with you, you were whisked away by Daniel for various idiotic reasons.

The first time Daniel took you away, he lied and asked if you could switch seats with Flash because he was ‘severely’ allergic to peanut butter crackers. You, of course, offered to change seats, completely unaware that Daniel was luring you towards him. Peter felt his blood boil; he clearly remembers seeing Daniel eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup a couple of days before. The second time Daniel took you away, you were sitting next to Peter in the dining hall at the hotel before Daniel ‘accidentally’ spilled hot coffee all over his body; once again, you fell for his trap, and you offered to help him, despite Daniel being eighteen years old. The third time Daniel took you away, you were watching a movie with Peter; Daniel somehow convinced you that he needed your help and asked if you could quiz him for the upcoming competition, to which you agreed. Every single time that Daniel succeeded, he would give Peter a relish sneer, mentally gloating that he had successfully stolen you away.

Although Peter absolutely hated Daniel with every fiber of his soul, It’s not like Peter was going to force you to stop talking to Daniel - that would be a dick move - but if Peter had the chance to throw Daniel off a building, he would happily do it in a heartbeat. However, as you were spending more time with Daniel instead of Peter, Peter’s hope was gradually disappearing.

Now, Peter morosely sat in his hotel room alone, imagining Daniel constantly flirting with you the whole afternoon and evening. By making up a quick lie and telling Mr. Harrington that he had a stomach ache, Peter was able to sulk in his room while the rest of the group was exploring tourist areas in the city before the big competition. Peter had come to believe that Daniel had won and decided there was no point of trying to win you back; there was no way that you would ever love him, Peter thought to himself, not when Daniel is still around.

Meanwhile, as Peter was sadly believing that Daniel was now professing his love for you, you were sitting on your bed, your room right in front of Peter’s door, completely unaware that Peter stayed behind as well. You, too, lied and said that you were feeling sick, but in reality, you wanted some time away from Daniel. He was becoming extremely annoying, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. While you assumed that you were going to have some peace and quiet, that dream was utterly destroyed. As usual, Flash opened his big mouth and told Daniel that you were in your hotel room, so now, you were sitting inches away from Daniel as a movie was playing in the background. You pretended to listen to the movie, but you constantly thought about Peter, wondering how he was doing. You felt horrible for leaving Peter alone so many times, and you wanted to apologize but you never had the chance to.

“You okay, Y/N?” Daniel confronted, noticing how your eyes were not watching the screen. You rapidly blinked, turning to look at Daniel before giving him a half-hearted smile.

“‘M fine, just thinking about Peter,” you honestly confessed, hoping that Daniel would further question you, wondering why you were so worried about Peter. Instead, he said the exact opposite.

“Meh, don’t worry about Parker right now. It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” You let out a frustrated sigh, to which Daniel didn’t pick up, and you mentally rolled your eyes, hating how Daniel always changed the topic whenever you would bring up Peter. If you knew that Daniel had this fuckboy persona, you never would’ve given him the time of day. You remained quiet and glued your eyes to the screen, hoping that Daniel wouldn’t notice your disinterest in the horrible movie he picked out. You faked a laugh as something ‘hilarious’ showed up on the screen, but then you felt your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You leaned towards the furniture, detaching your phone from the charger and unlocking your phone. MJ sent you a text; you assumed she sent you a photo of where they were at, but when you read the message, a frown settled on your face.

Peter is in his room right now, very upset. Do you think you could check up on him?

Without needing any more information, you turned off your phone and jumped out of the bed. You turned to look at Daniel, who paused the movie, and you gave him an apologetic look, hoping that he would understand what you were about to tell him.

“I’m sorry, Danny, but I just got a text from MJ. Peter is upset and I have to make sure he’s okay.”

“What?” Daniel responded in an annoying tone, hating that Peter, once again, was ruining his plans. “Are you serious right now? We’re watching a movie, you can’t just leave me here.”

You glared at Daniel, deeply despising the way he spoke to you, but you bit your lip, not wanting to argue back and forth. You slipped on your shoes and proceeded to ignore Daniel’s snarky attitude.

‘Daniel, I don’t get why you’re so mad. I’m checking up on one of my closest friends, what’s your fucking deal?” you snapped at him, causing Daniel to lean back in shock.

“My deal?” Daniel angrily repeated. “My deal is that you’re paying too much attention to him. We’re having a great time together, I just hate that Peter is getting in the way of that.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to believe that Daniel actually thought you were having a great time. The boy merely spoke about himself and nothing else, and you found him extremely boring. You let out a laugh, to which he didn’t like, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore. “Danny,” you started, “don’t try to control what I do. I’m leaving and that’s final.”

You angrily grabbed your phone, ignoring his protests and pleads, but just as you were about to open the door, the idiot had the nerve to open his mouth once again.

“Whatever, go run to Peter. But, I promise you this, he can’t show you a good time like how I can.”

You remained still, feeling your blood boil due to his vulgar comment. You were trying your hardest not to chuck your phone at his face, but instead, you turned around and gave him a smirk.

“I doubt that, Danny. From what I heard, you barely have four inches,” you retorted before opening the door and slamming it shut.

You mumbled curse words under your breath, wishing you could’ve smacked Daniel across the face, but Peter was your top priority. In a quick second, you were now standing in front of Peter’s door, and you anxiously knocked on it. Peter was pulled out of his thoughts once he heard someone knocking, and he got up off of his bed and walked towards the door, opening it halfway. To say the least, Peter was surprised to see you standing right in front of him, and he wondered why you were back so early. Judging by your irritated face, Peter knew something was on your mind and you wanted to get it off of your chest, so he moved to the side and fully opened the door. You walked inside, continuing to spew out profanities, but then you closed your mouth, remembering why you were here.

“Peter, is something bothering you? MJ told me you were upset,” you said, causing Peter to stiffen. Peter hoped that MJ didn’t tell you the real reason he was upset, but he remained quiet, wanting you to continue speaking. You walked towards the bed and plopped down, patting the empty spot next to you, signaling Peter to sit down. Peter obeyed, and you instantly leaned into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“You can tell me anything, Peter. I’ll listen,” you remarked, hoping that Peter would tell you the truth. You hated seeing him sad, and you were willing to do anything to make him happy. Peter let out a big breath, slowly working up the courage to say what’s been on his chest for the past four years. You lifted your head, shifting your body so that you were now fully facing him. You watched as a shaky Peter was fidgeting with his fingers.

“You want me to be completely honest?” Peter timidly whispered, deciding that now was finally the time to say he’s had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You nodded your head, eager to know the cause of his sorrows.

“Yes, of course, Pete,” you replied, getting anxious by the second as Peter was stalling time. Peter bit his lower lip, not knowing how to perfectly form his emotions into words, but when he opened his mouth, everything came spewing out.

“I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you, and I made this very tedious plan to confess my feelings for you while we were on this trip - but then fucking Daniel ruined everything - and that’s the reason why I’ve been so moody. I was going to take you to various places in the city - and I even bought you a bracelet with our initials on it - but now that I’m saying it out loud, that’s kinda creepy and I’m sorry, and I’m rapidly speaking so I can run away from the inevitable - which is you turning me down because you don’t feel the same way.” Peter heavily panted as he finished his rant, but there was a long moment of silence as you stared at Peter with wide eyes.

“No fucking way,” you breathed out, unable to register what Peter was saying. All of this time, you thought that Peter didn’t like you, but when he finally admitted his feelings, you were completely taken aback. Holy fuck, you thought to yourself, Peter loves me. Peter loves me.

“I know, I know-,” Peter sorrowfully replied, rubbing his forehead, hurt that you were ridiculing him because of the way he felt about you. “It’s hilarious that a guy like me thinks that he can get with a girl like you. Hahaha, but it hurts, Y/N, I have feelings an-”

“Peter,” you interrupted him, moving closer until you were inches away from his face. Peter closed his mouth, feeling his heart rapidly beat in his chest as he began to cherish every feature on your face; his heart felt like it was going to explode due to the lack of distance, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you loved the effect you were having on Peter. You delicately placed your hands on his chest, and you discreetly remained calm, despite you being able to feel how strong his chest was.

“I love you, too” you heartedly declared, anxiously smiling as you waited for Peter to respond. You watched the corner of his lips curve upwards, and you lovingly stared into Peter’s eyes, noticing the crinkles around his eyes become more prominent when he grinned, and you absolutely adored it. He was like a ray of sunshine, his smile was more than his mouth; it was his voice and his words, and it was utterly beautiful.

His eyes briefly widened, but then they became soft as he now watched your cheeks turn pink like a spring tulip.

“Are you like, serious? You’re not messing with me right now?” Peter managed to say, unable to accept that the girl of his dreams just told him she liked him. You let out a slight chuckle, running your hands up until they peacefully rested on Peter’s neck; you slowly leaned your forehead against his, deeply staring into his eyes.

“I’m a hundred percent serious, Peter. I love you so fucking much.” You drew Peter towards you as much as you could, and in the first second, he inhaled your enticing scent. It smelled pleasant, light, and refreshing - there was a slight hint of fruitiness, but it wasn’t overbearing nor masking your natural scent. The next second, your lips are on Peter’s, and he openly invites you into his arms. For such a long time, Peter kisses you with such delicately and tenderness, and you didn’t want to pull away. This felt right, and you knew that Peter felt the same way. Peter was your perfect guy, and you were going to make sure he knew that every single day of his life until the day he dies.

Peter departs his lips from yours, despite you moaning for more, and he takes a moment to lovingly stares into your eyes, gingerly holding your face in his hands. Your eyes sparkled with delight, and if Peter could, he would freeze this moment forever, never wanting to move forward. Although Peter’s plans didn’t go the way he wanted it to, the outcome was, nonetheless, just as beautiful as he imagined it.

“Kiss me again, Peter,” you quietly demanded.

Peter leans into your touch, finding your lips once again - but then something inside of you changes. The soft tender kiss turned into a vicious, needy make-out session. The sweet, timid, and friendly girl Peter used to know was completely gone and was now replaced with a rough and aroused one. You gradually climbed onto Peter’s lap as you hungrily kissed him, and you feel a patch of wetness drip onto your underwear as your tongues fight for dominance. Peter is so enticed on kissing you that he fails to notice one of your hands firmly grasping his cock through his pants. The sudden touch causes Peter to ripple out a low groan, and you smile into the kiss, content that you were able to make Peter wither from just a single touch.

You repeat the same noise at a higher pitch as Peter roughly rubs your ass, disconnecting his lips before attacking your neck. You throw your head back in utter bliss, granting Peter more access, and you feel a bruise form as Peter continues to suck on a particular spot. While one hand is stroking Peter’s enormous cock, the other hand snakes its way under his shirt; another moan comes out of Peter’s mouth, and you loved hearing it.

In a blink of an eye, Peter’s shirt is on the ground, and yours follows as well. You push him down against the bed, and you seductively crawl towards him until you’re straddling his waist.

Your lips reconnect once more, and Peter’s fingers manage to unclasp your bra, which he recklessly tosses to the ground. “Peter,” you moaned in delight as his hands raked over your exposed chest, firmly gripping your breasts. Just as Peter is about to place his lips on your sensitive bud, a loud banging on the door prevents him from doing so. You let out a gasp, frightened at the sound, but then you hear the voice yell.

“Open up, Parker!” Daniel angrily announced, continuing to slam his fist on the door. “I know Y/N is in there! We need to talk.” You and Peter stare at each other, not knowing what to do, but then you vividly remembered Daniel’s words. I promise you this, he can’t show you a good time like how I can. A smirk grows on your face as you think of an elaborate and mischievous plan. Oh, you were going to prove him wrong. As Daniel kept screaming, demanding you to come out of the room, Peter became exasperated, completely annoyed that Daniel was ruining your intimate moment. Finally, Peter lets out an irritated groan, but just as he’s about to move you to the side so he can answer the door, you place your hands on his chest.

“Don’t move, I have an idea,” you say with a sly smug, but before Peter can ask you what your plan was, you let out a loud, compelling, and pornographic moan.

“Oh, God! Peter!” you yelled in pure ecstasy, grabbing your breasts in the process to keep you riled up. “Don’t stop! Keep going, baby.” The banging immediately stops, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back, knowing that on the other side of the door, Daniel was extremely jealous, embarrassed, and frustrated. Peter’s eyes widen in shock at your reaction, but he’s ultimately aroused once more, loving how you wanted Daniel to know that he was fulfilling your sexual desires.

Peter disregards Daniel’s presence and attaches his lips on your nipple, causing you to loudly sigh in bliss as Peter sucks on it. The fake moans you were forming were now real, and you held Peter’s head in your chest as his finger roughly rubbed the other nipple.

“Fuck-” you loudly whined, unintentionally rubbing yourself on Peter’s crotch. A hefty groan comes out of Peter, and he detaches his lips from your breasts, easily lifting you up with one hand while the other begins to undo his pants. You mirror his actions, doing the same to your pants, tossing your bottoms and underwear to the floor. Peter wiggled out of his pants and boxers, his cocks twitching and springing up as your exposed core slowly rubbed itself on his shaft. You can already see the pre-cum forming at the head, and you eagerly lick your lips, wanting to wrap your mouth around his member.

Suddenly, Peter grabs you by the waist and flips you over so that he’s on top. As you expect him to unleash all of his strength onto you, Peter delicately kisses you, as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. While his touches send shivers down your spine, melting your heart, you’re impatient, wanting more. You softly push him away, and for a moment, Peter thinks he’s done something wrong.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Peter anxiously asked, scanning your face to see if he could detect what was bothering you. You bit your lip in anticipation, petrified that if you said what was on your mind, it would ruin the mood. A million reasons swirled around his mind and he feared that he’s gone too far; he assumed you didn’t feel comfortable anymore to continue your sexual activities. What Peter failed to realize was that you didn’t regret anything. “Tell me, baby,” Peter reassured you, placing light kisses on your face and neck. You cave into his touch, and you feel your muscles relax.

“I want you,” you started off, raking your fingers across his chest. “But, I need rough sex, Peter,” you needily whimpered, biting your lip in the process, causing Peter to lean back, his eyes widening. “Please, fuck me as hard as you can. I want Daniel to know how good you’re fucking me.”

You intently stare at Peter’s face, scared that he was going to say no, but then you notice his pupils dilate, his eyes darkening as he listened to your words. The mere mention of Daniel’s name caused Peter to shake from rage, but then something switched inside of Peter, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Damn Y/N,” Peter replies, biting his lower lip. A small moan escapes Peter’s mouth as he realizes what you’re asking of him, and he absolutely loves it; Peter feels his cock twitch from excitement as he repeated your words over and over again in his mind, and it drove him insane. Peter couldn’t believe it; here he was, thinking you were going to be an innocent girl, but oh no - he was wrong, and boy did he love it. Peter bit his lip in hunger, his eyes taking in your body once more. The thought of mercilessly pounding into you without anything stopping him caused more pre-cum to leak out of his cock, and Peter was more than prepared to grant you what so deeply desired.

“As you wish, darling.” Peter peppered kisses against the nape of your neck and before you know it, Peter firmly grabs you by the neck. You let out a soft gasp at his sudden change of behavior, but then a whimper escapes out of you as Peter crashes his lips onto yours, and you allow him to take full control.

“Fuck Peter.” You moan as you buck your hips up, needing him to be inside of you. You were becoming impatient, but Peter darkly chuckled as he brought his face close to yours.

“Oh no baby,” he scolds, a smirk forming on his face. “I’ll be inside you when I want to. You understand?” You feel as if you’re about to cry out in pain and pleasure, but you’re willing to do anything for Peter. You frantically nod your head, hoping it will satisfy Peter.

Peter’s grip got tighter, unhappy that you didn’t verbally respond. “You better speak right now or I swear, I’ll tease you until you’re a crying mess.”

“Yes, Peter. I understand, baby,” you affirmed as Peter hummed in satisfaction. Peter slowly released the tight grip he had before rummaging through the nightstand. Peter pulls out a condom but before you even have time to ask him where he got it, he tears it open with his mouth and puts on the safety. Without any warning or hesitation, Peter roughly turns you around, your chest pressed down against the bed. You immediately understand what he wants, and you quickly get on all fours, laying your head on the pillow and perking your ass up, giving Peter a complete view of your core. Peter groans at the sight as you flirtatiously wiggle your bare ass in front of him, and he leans back to admire the view for a short moment.

“Look at you,” he seductively whispered, causing you to become even more aroused as his words drip out of his mouth like sweet honey. “All ready for me, such a good girl.”

Suddenly, Peter slams into you, and you let out the loudest noise you’ve ever made, finally satisfied that he was inside you. However, Peter doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust to his large size, but you cry out in frustration, wanting him to pound into you mercilessly. You attempt to move, but Peter roughly grabs your hips, refraining you. Peter lets out a heavy exhalation, absolutely melting into you as he felt your pretty folds swallow him up. It was majestic.

“Shit,” Peter mutters, “You’re so tight, Y/N.” Peter slowly begins to move, but in an instant, his pace starts to accelerate. Peter pounds into your cunt; it was ruthless, exhilarating, and animalistic, and you rolled your eyes in utter pleasure, your mouth hanging open.

You’re a writhing mess, spelling out incoherent words as Peter tightly held onto your waist and slammed into you. You knew there was going to be bruises due to his death grip, but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you made you totally forget. The slight pain was gone as pleasure overstimulated your body, and you arched your back in response, repeating Peter’s name. You clamped onto the sheets for dear life, your head laying on the pillows, your sounds being muffled. The sound of skin slapping echoed around the room, and Peter gasps and curses, becoming a panting mess as he doesn’t intend on stopping anytime soon.

Peter grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head off the pillow, and your moans become louder. “That’s right,” Peter reassured, releasing your hair and moving his hand towards your neck. “Scream for me, baby. Let him know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Ah, Peter! Faster, please! Ohh fuck Peter, shit!“ you scream, holding onto his arm for support.

“Can Daniel fuck you like this?” Peter asked, digging his knees deeper into the bed and moving his hips at a faster rate. Peter’s cock was stretching you out, and you were loving every minute of it.

“No! Peter -Shit!- only you can! Only you can make me feel like this.” You cry out in pleasure, your hair sticking to your sweaty back and chest. Peter groans in satisfaction, your words encouraging him to move faster.

“Exactly, you’re fucking mine - all mine.” Your walls contract around him at his words, and Peter feels a familiar feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He detaches himself from you, pulling out for a brief moment before forcing you to lay on your back. Peter’s hand gingerly returns to your waist, savoring this moment. Both of you heavily pant as you stare into each other’s eyes, and Peter leans in, passionately kissing you.

“Shit Peter!” you squeal in shock as you feel his cock enter you without hesitation, your nails clutching onto his contracting muscles.

“Whose pussy is this?” Peter grunted, fully slamming his cock into your pussy. A high pitch scream comes out of your mouth but you’re unable to form coherent words, completely discombobulated. Peter’s cock perfectly fills you up, and you desperately stare into his eyes, digging your sharp nails in his back. “I said,” Peter angrily repeated, tightly squeezing your neck. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you mewl as you began to feel a knot form in your stomach.

“That’s right, baby,” Peter asserted, sweat trickling down his face, chest, and back. You closed your eyes, completely aroused by Peter’s rough side, and Peter couldn’t help but trace over your body. He admired the way your breasts bounced as he pounded into you, the way your face contorted in total ecstasy, and the way your hair was a mess - a mess that he made from fucking you so good.

“I’m so close, baby -Fuck I’m s-so close-“ You feel the knot get stronger. Peter continues to thrust into you, watching as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Peter’s fingers find its way to your clit, rapidly rubbing circles, and you let out a whine.

“Come for me, darling. Come all over my cock,” Peter coaxed you, his words sending you over the edge. Your hands grip onto his arms for dear life as you let out a throat-ripping moan, your body shaking in the process. Peter comes right after you, his hands resting beside your head, firmly clutching onto the sheets as he, too, let out a groan. Peter’s body collapses onto yours, and your fingers find its way to the curls at the back of his head, burying themselves in his smooth hair. For a while, the room goes silent, and all you can hear are the heavy pants coming out of your mouths. Peter is still inside you, but you don’t mind at all. Peter’s body slowly rises and falls as he comes down from his high, and his hands cradle your face; Peter leaves a sloppy yet passionate kiss, and once again, you melt into his arms.

You whimper as you feel Peter’s member pull out, and you watch as Peter wobbly stands up to throw away the condom. You intently stare at his chest as he walks back to you, and you notice the fresh scratch marks you left. You feel your cheeks turn red, but Peter gives you a soft smile, mentally telling you that it was fine. Finally, Peter gets back into bed and pulls the covers over your bodies. Your turn to lay on his side, lovingly gazing into his eyes.

“Wow,” was all you managed to say, “That was fucking amazing.” Peter lets out a chuckle, becoming flustered as you continued to praise him.

“Do you think Daniel heard?” you wondered, softly rubbing Peter’s chest.

“I think the whole floor heard,” Peter truthfully responded, scratching the back of his head. You lightly laugh at his comment, your eyes glistening with joy, before pressing a tender kiss on Peter’s lips. Good, you thought to yourself, now everyone knows how great Peter is at sex.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked. “Did I hurt you?” Your heart melted in your chest as you realized how worried Peter was. You shook your head, easing him. “I’m fine, Peter.” However, the dryness of your throat made it hard for you to speak, and Peter knew that you needed something to drink.

“Let’s get you something to drink, there’s a vending machine right out the door,” Peter offered, to which you accepted. You were desperately craving water, but you also fancied a small snack to munch on. Peter and you got out of bed -despite how sore your bodies were - and you instinctively bent down and grabbed your underwear and Peter’s shirt. Peter felt an enormous grin grow on his face as he watched you, and you returned the smile when you felt his eyes on you.

You walked towards the door with nothing but his shirt and underwear whereas Peter was only wearing his boxer shorts; just as you opened the door and stepped out of the room, with Peter right behind you, your eyes landed on Daniel, who, as well, opened your hotel door the exact moment you did. Daniel tightly clutched his book bag, but as he turned around to head down the hallway, his eyes found yours. He deeply stared, noticing how your makeup was smeared, your hair was tangled, and Peter’s chest was covered with scratches and bruises.

You broke eye-contact, your face expressionless, as you turned to the left, heading towards the vending machine that was feet away from where you stood.

Peter bitterly glared down Daniel, but then Peter mirrored your movements, leaning against the machine. Peter took notice of how Daniel was glued to the floor, and Peter flared his nostrils, disliking how Daniel continued to gawk at you.

Yet, Peter didn’t mind that you were only wearing his t-shirt in the middle of the hallway. He knew Daniel had a perfect view of your ass, which was barely covered by the thin fabric, but Peter didn’t care because he knew that the moment you entered his hotel room, he was going to relentlessly fuck you again until you couldn’t walk anymore. As you were still deciding what snack to choose from, Peter slightly turned his head to the side, a smug expression cemented on his face as he watched Daniel awkwardly stand in front of your door. Daniel’s face was bright red, most likely due to his rage of knowing what you and Peter were doing, but Peter remained unbothered, rejoicing that he was able to rile up Daniel with so much ease.

Peter sent a coy wink to Daniel as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his arms and placing sloppy kisses on your exposed neck while still holding eye-contact with Daniel. You leaned your head back, exposing more skin for Peter, knowing fully well of what he was trying to do. However, you didn’t object at all. A pool of your wetness started to drip onto your underwear, and you softly let out a discreet moan as Peter’s hand tightly clutched your ass. You loved how Peter was gloating to Daniel, reveling in the fact that you were Peter’s and only his. Your lips curved upwards as you heard Daniel let out a huff of frustration, mumbling incoherent words as he stormed down the hallway.

Once Daniel was gone, you wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck, your fingers delicately playing with the strands of his hair as a giggle escaped from your lips. You placed a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“You’re such an ass,” you joked, shaking your head as you divert your attention back to the vending machine. Peter shrugged his shoulders, not caring that Daniel was probably going to cry in his room, knowing you slipped away from his fingers. “Asshole deserves it,” Peter blankly declared. You bit your lip in frustration, your eyes glancing at the snacks before Peter rested his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist once again.

“C’mon baby,” Peter seductively whispered. His hands discreetly snuck underneath your shirt and his fingers started to play your nipples, slowing pitching them in the process. You let out a soft gasp, shocked that Peter had the courage to do this in the hallway, but then you felt yourself become aroused, ready to start round two. “We still have a few hours before everyone comes back,” Peter murmured, biting your earlobe in the process.

You let out a big sigh. “Screw it,” you said, quickly forgetting about the snack and grabbing Peter’s hand. Peter bit his lip, a devious smirk forming on his lips as you dragged him back to the room, eager to continue your previous activity.

Despite Peter’s plan not going accordingly, he was’t complaining. To say the least, Peter was fully satisfied, especially after the several rounds he had with you.

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hintofcolor · 3 years

Text

I do not like when people bring children into fanfics. Like “this couple has a child” “then she got pregnant” “they’re raising a kid together”

UNLESS

It is the grumpy loner with got a kid via being a god parent.

Like that hits different

Like they only have that one person or that that one couple who is like family, and then those people die and now they have to cope with that along with learning how to raise a child but they know nothing about raising kids and so you see the two of them grieve and grow together and it is just so good

Yes this about Roy dying and leaving Lian to Jason because lian took a liking to Jason and Jason cares about her so much and you know that if a bat cares about some one they will make sure they are safe no matter what (especially Jason) and Jay completely panics because he had no idea Roy made him her legal guardian and he’s going through lists of people who would be better suited for this in his mind.

“What about Dick? Dicks amazing with kids, and he’s always wanted to be a dad. Plus he knew Roy longer than I have? Or Donna? Or Kory? Or you two?! Why did he not leave her with you and Ollie?!”

“Jason calm down. Roy knew you better than anyone, if thought Lian being in your care was the best decision for her, then it is. You trust him, right?”

“Trust has nothing to do with it. I don’t know how to raise a kid.”

“No parent does. But Jason, you aren’t alone. You have people who will help and support you. You have to know that Roy chose you for a reason.”

Jason has to buy an actual apartment but he hasn’t had a home since he died so he has no clue how to live normally but Lian does so this 6 year old is gently teaching how to live normally and Jason is teaching her how to grieve

The scenarios that follow are hilarious. Lian making friends at school and asking Jason if she can have a sleepover and he says no but she’s so much more like her dad than Jason will ever admit so she very easily talks him into it, however she forgets to mention that he has to meet their parents first. So now 6’3 scary and intimidating Jason Todd is standing in a park dressed in all black leather jacket and combat boots with his resting face in a scowl and with jack and Susan and the other parents having absolutely no clue what to do. He can handle small talk with socialites, he learned how to do that when he was young but he is absolutely lost with these normal people, who have normal jobs and live normal lives. And he’s trying so hard because Lian wanted this so bad but he’s so awkward and uncomfortable. What sells the parents on letting them have the sleepover was watching him with lian. Watching him dote on her and keep a close eye and how he always has a genuine smile and waves back when Lian runs by waving at him. Or how he crouches down and let’s Lian out a flower in his hair just like the one she put in her own and how soft his voice was when he said it would be an honor when she told him that now he could be in her fairy army.

And parent teacher conferences are a mess, because Jason just doesn’t fit in. At all. And all the female teachers are flustered around him because this tall well built incredibly attractive man in sprawled out while sitting in a desk far to small for him and nodding attentively when they discuss Lian and how beautiful his smile is when he beams with pride when they praise her for her art or for being so smart. Because of course Lian is smart her dad was a genius, because parent teacher conferences always makes him realize just how much she is like her dad. And while his death still hurts it’s good to know that he will always be in Jason’s life through Lian And the teachers crumble when they talk about her behavior issues because she’s still grieving but she also has her dads anger and the look of concern on his face when he says he will talk to her about it is so honest.

And during play dates only the moms ever seem to bring their kids and they always ask if he can handle it and he always says yes but he’s wearing a tight white t shirt and he’s all sweaty and his hands are greasy and they almost pass out when they ask him what was working on and he says his motorcycle. So they push alittle more but he assures them that he’s fine. And Lian runs past him dragging her friends to her room laughing and joking as they go and Jason just has the fondest look in his eyes as tells her to slow down a little. And they come out a little later all in make shift superhero costumes so when the moms come to pick up their daughters the beg them to let them finish thier and all agree because who wouldn’t want to just stare at Jason for a little longer. Jason is running around with a make shift red helmet chasing these little girls dressed up as different heroes and they are all laughing and giggling and Jason catches one of them and slings her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing and the little girl is laughing so hard as she bangs on his back Lian in her speedy costume finally shoots him down and he goes down all dramatic like and all the little girls run and tackle him and now Jason is laughing too as he’s picking the little girls up off the ground and telling them to go and get their stuff and he has the brightest smile as he apologizes to the moms for keeping them waiting and every last one of the moms falls on love.

And just Jason being domestic and a good dad y’all my heart

#dc comics #jason todd #lian harper #roy harper #jason parenting lian is my weakness #bonus points if roy comes back #and they all have to live together #because lian doesnt want to leave jason #so jason roy and lian live together as this weird family #and jason and roy slowly start to realize their feelings for eachother #and its a dumpster fire #but its also so cute #and so heartwarming #and jason just being a dad yall #please im gonna cry #i love him

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averykedavra · 4 years

Note

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

!!! An excuse to recommend my favorite fics and authors? Don’t mind if I do! Here’s a top fourteen list of some great fics and a top nine list of my favorite authors, in no particular order! Because I had way too many. (Plus I’m bound to forget a million good ones, so take these with a grain of salt!)

1. chivalry is dead by Uncrowned_King! There really wasn’t another option. After Roman disappears into the Imagination, the other Sides come to look for him, and find several Romans fighting for ownership of the land. My all-time favorite Roman angst, with some beautifully written worldbuilding and my favorite OCs ever and a plot twist that sent me reeling. With some cute DLAMP, too! What’s not to love?

2. Breathe Out by Odaigahara! This is darker than I usually read but so, so worth it! Set pre-canon, Virgil and Janus team up against the other dark sides and find their feelings go beyond platonic after a relationship of convenience becomes something more. It’s a WIP and I don’t know where it’s going yet, but I’m really intrigued and the writing is incredible!

3. The Black Hole Group Chat by Greenninjagal! Definitely my favorite comfort fic. After Logan accidentally joins a group chat and is forced into sticking around, he finds himself making his first friends--but past feelings and present conflicts threaten to tear apart the first place they’ve ever felt comfortable. So good, so funny, makes the most of the texting medium, and I always cry at the end.

4. Monsters of the Subconscious by Quarantinevibes! Ohh, everything by this author is fantastic which goes for all of them. After PoF, Janus visits the Imagination to apologize. Instead, him and Roman are sucked into the Subconscious, a wild land full of mysterious dangers. They must team up to escape, and come to terms with their feelings for each other. Some wonderfully soft Roceit, hilarious comedy and incredible action, and great emotional moments!

5. the feelings in my headspace rearranged by mutemelody! Some canon divergence for the soul. Anxiety doesn’t have a name, and after the AA arc, has to make his way through acceptance and love. Canon turns on its head, old friends make a reappearance, and through it all Anxiety has to find his own identity, nameless or not. Gosh, this fic is incredible--the writing is stunning, the plot is amazing, and it’s some of the best Virgil angst I’ve ever read.

6. There’s a Word For That by plumcat! I cannot recommend this fic enough. Roman, a Slytherin, has been pining over arguing with Patton, a Hufflepuff, since the beginning of time. But with the Quidditch match coming up, his two annoying best friends relentlessly teasing him, and Patton himself spending more and more time with Roman, Roman has to figure out what he really wants and who he wants to be. This fic is hilarious and makes me feel feelings and please, please read it.

7. (i’d never) want once from the cherry tree by ace_corvid! Prinxiety! And a Youtuber AU that really takes advantage of the medium! Virgil and Roman are two of the most popular creators on YouTube and their fans have been begging them to do a crossover episode. The collaboration goes surprisingly well, but it’s one thing to explore a relationship, and another to do it when the whole world is watching. So cute, so hilarious, has some amazing art as well, and I just highly recommend it.

8. double down on the paradigms by remrose! Here’s a lovely college AU! Logan is doing his best to pass his classes, and everything is going fine, despite his roommate Virgil’s concerns about his late study nights and compulsive behavior. Then he meets Patton, and every wall Logan’s constructed slowly begins to crumble. To show how much I love this fic, I have not stopped thinking about it, even though it’s the only one on this list I’ve only read once. It stuck with me that much and hey maybe I should reread it, hold on--

9. In a Tizzy by coconutcluster! Cute fluff, so wholesome, much love. After Logan finds out that Roman gets flustered at compliments, he enlists the other Sides to test this theory. But Roman gets upset when he thinks they’re playing a joke on him by being nice. The writing is great and it’s a fantastic pick-me-up on a bad day! Just so full of nice wonderful feelings!

10. Communication Issues by WaeRose! Analogince! The alternative title that I cut out says it all! After Logan and Virgil find Roman crying in his room, they make an effort to spend more time together as a group. But platonic feelings quickly become non-platonic, misunderstandings abound, insecurities rise, and they’ll have to learn how to communicate their feelings if those feelings could ever lead to a relationship. The writing is incredible, the second-person POV is done expertly, and the characterization is top-notch!

11. a heart he couldn’t control by codevassie! Prinxiety that tore me into a million pieces. Roman traded away his true love’s life to save his brother from a witch, but when he actually meets said true love, he begins to regret his choice. Now Virgil is trapped once again with the witch, Roman is on a rescue mission, Patton and Logan are hiding something, and Janus is definitely not who he seems. Once again, this AU hurts me, and the incredible writing makes it a gut-punch! It’s a WIP but I love where it’s going and need to catch up on it but shhh

12. Another Goddamn Hero Story by rosesisupposes! I’m a sucker for a superhero AU and this one is stellar! Logan and Virgil are a hero team, trying to subdue Patton and Roman, the most famous villain duo in the city. But nobody’s exactly who they say, everyone’s not quite sure which side is right, and past wrongs are coming back to draw new blood. It’s endgame LAMP and the romances are built perfectly! Supervillains Royality is amazing, the action is incredible, and the plot twist blew me away!

13. Hurt, and How We Grow Past It by Jinx72! Another comfort fic of mine, by one of my all-time favorite authors! After Deceit visits the Imagination and lights a fire larger than he intended, Roman is left injured while the other Sides try to put the pieces back together. Old grudges come to light, new bonds are forged, and they all fall in love slowly while all simultaneously being extremely insecure. The characterization is incredible, the writing is top-notch, and the DLAMP is heartfelt and wonderful!

14. Eucatastrophe by arealsword! I added this one last-minute because it’s incredible and deserves to be on this list! The writing is incredible, the world-building is top-notch, and the plot manages to be coherent and incredible while throwing me for a loop every other line! It creeped me the heck out, but I’d expect nothing less from the author of Pick a Side. I’m not even gonna summarize this one because that’d spoil the fun, but suffice it to say, Thomas gets kidnapped by faeries and things get interesting very fast.

And now for the authors! (I chose authors who I didn’t mention above, but all the ones I already talked about are hella good, check them out too!)

1. @/sleeplessinstarbucks. You want good losleep content? Here. You want good QPR content? Here. You want good content in general? Here! Lia has amazing hurt/comfort, beautiful writing, and stellar characterization. I binge their writing every time I get bored. If you want your heart to be warmed, this is where to go!

2. @/theeternalspace. Okay, so Acantha is the Royal of Long Fics. Every one of theirs is a winner! They’re an expert at plotting and characterization, and I’ve been sucked into every one of their many AUs. Plus their writing is godly! And did I mention there are so many chapter fics on their Ao3? If you want a bunch of bingeable emotional rollercoasters, head on over here!

3. @/whenisitenoughtrees. Cat...how. How do you do it. See, Cat writes the best one shots. Their writing is incredible and they’ve written some of my all-time favorite short fics! Their characterization is always on point, and their dialogue always lands, and did I mention their writing is just so deliciously readable--you feel like they chose every word carefully to make it pack as much of a punch as possible. If you want some incredible one shots, this is your writer!

4. @/tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors. I mean, I couldn’t not include Violet. LAOFT is still my favorite series of all time and deserves all the attention it’s got! They’re the expert at well-done short fics that serve a longer narrative, giving everything an almost episodic structure. Plus, their fluff is the fluffiest and the best, and their angst hurts me deep within my soul, so they’re double-powerful! If you want standalone fics or a complex, emotional series, check them out!

5. @/impatentpending. Elena, our writing god, our Deity, which all other writers must respect. Every fic of hers is top-tier, from short to long, and she’s unrivaled at plotting and worldbuilding! You’ll get sucked in to every world and story she creates, and she’s an expert on letting the stories linger. I’m still thinking about Powerless and Monster and it’s been almost a year. If you want expertly crafted stories that leave you in emotional pieces, she’s got them.

6. @/ironwoman359. A classic choice here! She’s got it all--incredible one shots, great characterization, and a big enough master list for basically any ship to be found! She also writes some of the best hurt/comfort in the genre, so if you’re a fan of bad things that lead to good endings, there’s always something to read. If you want a large catalog of fantastic stories, she’s your gal!

7. @/caffeinatedcryptid. You may have seen El’s fantastic art on tumblr, but have you read their incredible stories? If not, you’re missing out! They’ve got several spectacular one shots already written, and each one of them broke me in their own special way. Their writing style is incredible and their characterization is fantastic. If you want longer one shots with well-thought-through plots, head over there!

8. @/astronomical-bagel. Astro, our Lord of Roman Angst, always ready to punch me in the gut with feelings! Act One, Scene Three still hurts me to this day. They’re always ready to turn anything into Roman angst (or any angst, check HDABST) but they’ve got some comfort in there as well! A little bit. Somewhat. Yeah. If you want to be emotionally destroyed, you know who to call.

9. @/green-writes-sanderssides. Green’s fics were some of the first I ever read in this fandom, and they’ve stuck with me to this day! They're an expert at the fluff-angst balance and causing all sorts of Emotions. They’re currently working on an incomplete LAMP fic that just completes me. But I digress. Green is spectacular! They’ve got wonderful canon-verse fics that explore the characters and their relationships expertly. If you want amazing fics with fantastic characterization in-canon, stop by!

And that’s all of them! Again, there are tons more I didn’t get to mention, but these are just a few I love! Congrats if you read all the way to the bottom, I know it was a lot--I just get really excited when I can compliment my favorite writers! Anyway, check them out if you want, I highly encourage it!

#sanders sides #fic recs #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fic recs #tw long post #long post #asks and answers #ask game #anon

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

On The Subject of Love

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 3.3k Warning: Tame. A few curse words and mentions of sex. Summary: Becca coaxes Ethan into talking about his experience with love during their visit to Leland Bloom's yacht.

Author’s Note: this took waaaaay too long to write and i’m still not sure i’m happy with it :/ but thank you @aylamwrites for pre-reading and leaving hilarious comments ❤

________________________________________

The drive to Leland Bloom’s yacht was staid, a direct contrast to the glorious sunshine surrounding the bubble of the sedan. Ethan was navigating the unfamiliar route to the private yacht club with extreme disdain. His ego wanted to resolve this case and finally put an end to this petulant competition with Mass Kenmore Hospital. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car was his favorite accomplice, Becca, calmly staring blankly out the window and still so unsure of his feelings towards her.

She knew she riled him up when she went behind his back to seek out the first high-profile patient, influencer Gwenyth Monroe. Though, in her defense, the man wasn’t actively trying to save the Diagnostics Team from the budgetary chopping block. Ethan Ramsey was always so blinded by his pride and ethics - He did the same with their future as well. But, Becca also knew she stepped over the line this morning when she called him a spoiled child in front of Baz and June at Mr. Bloom’s estate. Though she didn't really regret it because someone had to tell him off, the interaction still left a bad taste in her mouth.

Becca wasn’t too sure where they stood - professionally or romantically. The words Ethan spoke not too long ago in the dark of his office rang through her head: I want to know you as you truly are.

That was a few weeks ago. There he was breaking down their simply professional facade once again. It was a constant tug-of-war with him. Some days Ethan would let the wall crumble by letting her in or grabbing her hand, and others where he’d build it higher than before just to keep the force of Becca at bay. She didn’t realize how sweet of a memory the two of them creating his Pictagram account during that late-night research session would become.

He’s such an old man…

Ethan cut through her reverie, “What are you thinking about?”

With her gaze fixed on the passing trees and her mind still half-stuck in her daydream, she responded without further consideration, “Do you really never want to get married?”

Ethan’s brow furrowed at the random intrusion, needing to think before settling on a response. “Are you still stuck on this?”

The two sometimes-lovers spoke briefly about his views on the subject while working on Gwenyth’s case late into the evening. To Becca it was one of the most important questions in building their not-so-subtle budding relationship - she needed to know if Ethan was worth all the… complications. He spoke about how he didn’t believe in soulmates, unconditional love, and his doubts on marriage as an intuition. He never once spoke about his experience with love.

Looking out the window into the cloudless end of summer day, Becca boldly asked, “Haven’t you ever been in love? Wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve dated?”

“Oh god, no,” he scoffed with wide pale blue eyes. “I told you, Rookie, I don’t see the point.”

She rolled her disbelieving brown eyes and let the conversation pause there as they pulled up to the dock.

***

After the yacht set sail the doctors waited around the stern in a restive silence for 45 minutes while Mr. Bloom wrapped up his business meeting. Once safely away from the prying eyes of investors and colleagues in the yacht's master bedroom, Ethan and Becca begin to run tests and scans on the deteriorating businessman.

“Mr. Bloom, can I ask you and Caroline a question?” Becca asked as she drew a few samples of blood. “It has nothing to do with your case. Me and my friend here are debating something,” she nodded her head at Ethan’s general direction.

The patient looked between the two with a devious smile, “Sure, swing.”

Becca quickly peered over at Ethan standing at an expensive gold and glass table with the mobile sonogram machine, his arms crossed and waiting for her to enlighten the room with her inquiry.

She shot him a coy smile before turning back to the worldly man and asking, “How did you know you wanted to get married?”

Ethan stifled a surprising cough. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she’d ask a complete stranger that.

Mr. Bloom smiled as he instantly recalled every moment he has ever spent with his now-wife.

Closing his eyes he recited, “We’ve been business partners for decades - since college, actually. We were married about 11 years ago. I’ve known her my entire adult life and waited until I was almost 50 to tell her how I really felt.”

His eyes opened and found Caroline sitting in the chair by the large bay window immediately. The two looking adoringly at one another for a few seconds, speaking volumes in the language of love. For a moment Becca’s heart panged with hope that she could have that level of fondness with a man - that unconditional and unencumbered attachment that precedes words.

“My recommendation is to tell the other person you have feelings for them from the get-go. It’ll buy you time together. Its - it’s the most precious thing in the world to be with the one you love most.”

The way Leland Bloom spoke about his wife humanized him - he wasn’t a cut-throat businessman with oligarch-like wealth. He was a man who wanted as much time with his loved one as this world would permit, no matter the cost.

“But how did you know she was the one?” Becca quizzed further.

Mr. Bloom looked at Ethan's awkward form first and then to Becca as he asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

Ethan’s attention was focused on watching the images printing, deeply embarrassed by Becca’s brazen question and wanting no part of the conversation. Feeling everyone’s gaze on him he took in the three expectant stares and exclaimed incredulously, “Wha - Of course I have!”

Becca smiled at the old man, “Yes.”

“Do you remember how it felt?” Leland’s eyes bore into Becca’s begging the memories to surface.

She nodded.

Becca peered over at Ethan for a split second, his eyes meeting hers. She could see the curiosity swirling around his dark blue orbs alongside something else. Feeling ashamed for getting caught staring she bit her lip and tore her eyes away from him before she could even try to pinpoint just what the mystery emotion was.

“It’s like that,” Leland reassured. “But you’re constantly drawn to one another. The simplest and meaningless of tasks make you the happiest. You can sit in the same room in your own little world of silence together. Your heart swells when you look at them.” Like before his eyes flashed over to Caroline. “You’re never bored. And you can rely on them. The most telling sign was that I knew I needed her in my life even before I knew I had feelings for her. The intimacy was an added bonus.”

He smiled up at his wife who now stood close by with an affectionate hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Would you agree, darling?”

She nodded only for him. “I knew he was my person when he’d stand up for me. He wouldn’t let anyone belittle me or my intelligence. He challenged me to be a better person and comforted me when I needed it. He’s the best partner I could ask for.” Caroline’s body shifted to Becca though her eyes never left Leland’s, “Does that help your debate?”

Becca looked over at Ethan who didn’t have an inkling of amusement in his features. “I think you’ve just proved my point, but I'll give him a few minutes to form a rebuttal,” she winked at the couple.

They shared a pleasant laughter at Ethan’s expense.

“Ok, Mr. Bloom, you’re all set,” Becca beamed as they finished their examination. “We’ll give you a call once we have the results from the lab later today.”

With a nod of his head Mr. Bloom replied, “Good evening, doctors.”

Ethan didn’t say a word as they disembarked the vessel.

“So…” she started, expecting him to begin arguing his case on the disillusion of soulmates.

Ethan wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

The walk back to his sedan was stewing in awkward tension under the afternoon raging heat. More than halfway back to the car Becca had just come to accept the fact that Ethan wasn’t going to engage in their little intellectual tiff when he spoke with a critical eye;

“How many people have you presumably been in love with?”

She certainly didn’t expect that to be his first rebuttal. It almost made Becca drop the medical bag she was holding. Almost.

She simply responded, “Two. You?”

Over her shoulder she saw Ethan walking straight and stoically, eyes fixed ahead. He was ever so expertly guarded and displaying no telling emotions.

“Three, maybe,” he shrugged, not giving it a second thought.

“Maybe?”

“I don’t think teenage relationships could really count as love.”

“So we won’t count it,” Becca agreed with a small nod. “My number stands at 2.”

They made it to the car and Ethan popped the truck for them to put the gear. He fussed with the equipment, taking slightly longer than necessary to make sure the bag with the blood samples were safe and secure. Becca eyed him carefully from the sidelines expectantly.

With a loud thunk of the trunk and eyes glued to the license plate, he hesitated, “One.”

“Tell me about her.” Becca demanded sweetly as she moved to open the passenger side door. “Or I can go first?”

“Please,” he motioned for her to continue as they settled into his sedan.

Becca took a cleansing breath as she buckled herself in for the journey.

“It was my first year of undergrad. His name was Mack.” Becca could almost hear the roll of Ethan’s eyes as she stared out her window. “We dated for a year and broke up because my workload got intense and I couldn't go out much.” She took a pause as she remembered all those meaningful moments that came to define her adult-self. “He was a liberal arts major, really outgoing. He brought me out of my shell and taught me to be the person I am today. I’m really thankful for him, but more grateful that it didn’t work. I loved him, but I know now I definitely wasn’t in love with him. Looking back I don't even know how we would have made anything work.” Becca chuckled to herself. “He works in television now.”

There was a pause before she continued onto the second romantic love she’s ever experienced. Part of her hoped Ethan would jump in with an antidote.

Still, he kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“My last relationship was during med school. He was something else,” Becca continued with a vibrant smile. “We had great chemistry and a good time together.”

The affection in her voice for the nameless man instinctively had Ethan gripping at the wheel just tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Medical school wasn’t more than two years in her past, still enough time for the exes to find their way back to one another…

“We thought we were supposed to be together because that’s what you’re told as a kid - go to school, find your soulmate, get that good job, get married and have babies. We groomed each other to be all that. But the pressure of trying to be someone’s perfect person was too much. He went to California and I went to Boston. I don’t know what he’s up to today.”

Her smile faltered as she wordlessly recalled the day she and Thomas Miller III walked out of one another’s life for good. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little relieved to know her break up was not amicable.

“Your turn.”

Becca didn’t have the strength to turn and face him, the still-raw memories were playing out against the glass of the rear-view mirror and she couldn’t banish them just yet.

Ethan began to recite his past relationship like a bulleted list, checking off any sort of pertinent information; “It was for nearly 10 months. During medical school. She was gracious and brilliant. We never saw much of each other but when we did we had the most riveting medical debates. It was good fun.”

“That’s it?” Becca questioned in astonishment. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to keep her mouth from hanging open. How could someone look back on their first love with such displeasure? Even if it ended horribly the feeling of being in love is magical... and shouldn’t that in itself be celebrated?

He nodded.

Becca folded her arms across her chest and bit her lip as she pondered his words.

With the slightest scoff Becca boldly concluded, “I don’t think you were in love.”

Ethan was taken aback, clenching his jaw tightly in blatant refusal of conveying his surprise at her account of what happened with his heart while she was still in grade school. “How would you know?” he retorted.

“Because if you were you’d see each other all the time,” she responded simply and with a jovial lightness - like she’d cracked an undefined code. “You’d forgo sleep to spend some time together. You’d talk about your insecurities, your family, your dreams of the future. Not just medicine and cases.”

“You’re romanticising it.”

That one phrase stirred something up deep inside Becca. Who was he to tell her those things didn’t matter in a relationship? Those are the things they talk about and she… she wouldn’t admit to it. With that one romantic phrase they dove back into the quarrel Ethan so desperately didn’t want to be having.

Undeterred by consequences she countered, “How often did you have sex?”

“Excuse me.”

“You heard me,” she challenged.

Ethan let out a long breath of air. They were stuck together for at least another 25 minutes and there wasn’t a single thing he could say to dodge his way out of this one. Although he didn’t like the fact, they both were acutely aware that Rebecca is the only person who could ever ask him an impudent question. She had earned that right that night he crossed the line and they ruined one another in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Once, maybe twice a month, I think.”

“Months!?” Becca practically jumped out of her seat. Her head whipped around to face him.

Ethan hadn’t moved from the upright position and tight grip on the steering wheel she noted when they began their journey back to Edenbrook. The only thing that was running through Becca’s mind as she gawked at the admirable DNA of the man beside her was: How?

“It was a long time ago,” Ethan said, still completely unflappable. “I can’t remember correctly.”

“I was lucky to have sex twice a week.” Gosh, there were so many questions fluttering around Becca’s mind that she just couldn’t find the right words to articulate how unfathomable his confession seemed.

She watched as he raised an eyebrow, “You had other priorities.”

“No,” she stopped him right there with a point of her finger. “I had the same education as you. In between classes, assignments and reading your entire body of work I found time to find time.”

The corner of Ethan’s lip twitched when she mentioned her devotion to his life’s work.

Becca couldn’t believe he dared question her priorities - he read her application, he knows just how diligent and qualified she is.

She wanted to continue arguing but knew it was futile. Instead she asked another innocent question, “How many relationships have you been in since her?”

“Hurm, one,” Ethan grumbled, “Harper.” He paused to look at Becca out the corner of his eye for any sort of reaction. She gave him no ill indications - Her alert brown eyes were on him and brows rose high, awaiting further explanation. The two have had a quick quip on his history with the surgeon, but nothing past hearsay. “We’ve been on and off since residency,” he told her once more. “Now can we stop talking about this?”

Becca conceded, settling back into the shiny black leather. “I can’t believe you dated Harper,” she mused as she played with her seatbelt strap, “You two are so…”

“Different?” Ethan finished for her. “We actually have a lot of the same interests.”

“Intense,” Becca grinned as she finished her train of thought. “But I'm glad you got along.”

“We didn’t.”

If she wasn’t confused by the attendings’ relationship before she sure as hell was now. “Wha- How? You just said you have a lot in common.”

“Having similar interests and getting along are not mutually exclusive, Doctor,” Ethan smirked.

With a slack jaw and eyes trained on him once more, Becca all but demanded, “Explain please.”

“We were two people at the top of our respective classes,” he began. “Medical journal leeches were pitching us again and again. Everyone was pushing us together - a power couple, if you will.”

“The pride of Edenbrook,” she muttered in understanding.

Ethan nodded, “Pretty much.”

“Did Naveen orchestrate your coupling?” she asked. “He loves a good gossip story.”

Ethan shook his head once, “Naveen just wants me to be happy. At that moment he thought she’d make me happy.”

Becca let his words settle amongst them. She shouldn’t feel unsettled by his honesty, yet she did. There were too many comparable variables coming to light today.

Becca chewed on her bottom lip for a few pensive seconds before asking the fated question; “Did you like her?”

As soon as the words fell off her tongue she shut her eyes. She didn't want to see the damage the words could cause, and yet her body craved the answer.

“I had an affinity for her, if that’s what you mean,” he asked but didn’t give her the chance to clarify. “We had the same interests; both of us very career-orientated. Ultimately that’s what got in the way.” He paused for a moment, thinking carefully about his next words. He said them slowly and a decibel quieter than the last, “And that I didn’t have highly romantic feelings for her.” Just then Becca’s eyes shot open, fixed at his loosened grip of the steering wheel. “I still have a lot of respect and admiration for her.”

A small smile crept up on Rebecca. Those words alone held all she needed to know - Harper Emery never was and never will be a contender for Ethan’s heart.

“Then why do it?”

He shrugged as his features settled back into their default stoicism, “It was the right thing to do. If we didn’t… people would spend the rest of our lives forcing us together.”

She cocked an eyebrow, “So your relationship was a PR stunt…?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not a low-life, Becca.” He took pure offense that she thought he would do anything without a saturation of intention. “We tried because it seemed right. It seemed… inevitable... to try.”

“Huh, ok.”

He used her words against her. ‘Inevitable’ was what they were. Does he feel the same way about their relationship that he felt about Harper? Surely he didn’t, but she’d have no way to know. Ethan Ramsey kept pushing her away, and yet years ago he refused to wait and chose to explore those ineludible feelings with someone else.

Was Harper the reason we aren’t together, since he’s done the whole ‘inevitable’ tango before? She speculated.

Ethan’s next comment broke through her trance, “Aside from those disasters called relationships I have spent time with a few other women. You can rest assured I’m not completely incapable of intimacy.”

“I know you’re not a robot, Ethan,” she lamented. I’m happy to be one of those women.

Becca was glad he opened up to her, and for their intimacy all those months ago. Though, the gnawing of how many other women Ethan Ramsey had taken to bed in the days without her or Harper Emery plagued her mind. She wanted to press further but knew not to - she pushed her luck too much for one day.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay @edgiestwinter @rookieoh @lucy-268 @mvalentine @lilyvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @custaroonie @pitchblackstars @angela8756 @sanchita012 @thegreentwin @openheart12 @tsrookie @adrex04 @togetherwearerapture @ezekielbhandarivalleros

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x harper #choices oph2 #oph series #oph ff #choices fanfic #ohsy

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immortalcoelacanth · 4 years

Text

HLVRAI Oneshot: Chalk

My muse continues to be a stuggle, Snowcon followers I am sorry XD

Word count: 2687

Summary: Kids were easy to be around. Their minds were simple, focused on entertaining themselves and being happy. It was something Benrey could relate to. But sometimes they could be so damn observant…

“You love dad, don’t you?”

“uhhh, sounds kinda cringe bro.”

The warm, summer winds blew through the surprisingly quiet neighborhood. Faint sounds of children laughing could be heard, most likely in the park not too far away, and the scent of smoke wafted off the barbeque Gordon was currently cooking food on.

All and all, a pleasantly calm day. It was one that he could enjoy with his son-

“hey, hey, you wanna play some tic tac toe?”

And Benrey.

The duo were both seated on the pavement not too far away, drawing on the ground with pieces of chalk that were all sorts of colours. Benrey was wearing a rather large hoodie with some game logos and stickers plastered across it, and his security helmet of course. From his position, Gordon could see that Joshua had drawn several stars, a rainbow, and several other miscellaneous drawings. Benrey had, after being scolded several times to not eat the chalk, drawn what appeared to be colourful smears across the ground, mixing and blending them together.

It sort of reminded Gordon of Benrey’s sweet voice, the blues that were present and the general colour gradient. He was glad to see everything was calm, nothing bad had happened, but still felt the urge to check.

“You two still holding up good?”

“Yeah dad!”

“we’re just doodlin’ passports over here, bro. josh dude gave himself a neat stache.”

“It’s a rainbow mustache that’s extra swirly.” The young boy sagely nodded. “Benrey says it needs glitter though to look super nice.”

“gotta make it sparkly like your personality, little dude.”

Joshua grinned and started laughing while Gordon could not stop himself from smiling at the rather wholesome sight. While Benrey was his typical somewhat apathetic self, his words were far more cohesive, and he sounded less… flustered when speaking. His words were less frantic, far calmer.

Like he was truly relaxed.

“Alright.” Gordon nodded as he turned his attention back to the barbeque, not wanting the veggies to burn while he was not paying attention. “Benrey just… keep not eating the chalk, please.”

He did not notice the wink that the ex-security guard sent Joshua, nor did he witness Benrey pull out half a piece of blue chalk from his pocket and carefully crunch into it.

Blue tasted the best, it was like gatorade.

The young boy laughed once more before returning to his doodling. Benrey looked at it for a moment, noticing the blue, orange, and yellow pieces of chalk that were clearly intended for whatever it was he was drawing, but Benrey decided not to question it at the moment.

Joshua would more than likely ramble about it at some point, the kid was full of all sorts of words and tended to ramble to whoever was nearby. It was pretty amusing to listen to and gave him all sorts of insight on both Gordon and what the pair’s home life had been like before he crashed into it.

Literally.

Breaking into someone’s apartment at around three in the morning was not the best of plans, especially since it ended with Gordon bringing a bat down on the top of his helmet. Not that Benrey had been hurt of course.

Seeing Gordon’s dismay and shock as the bat snapped in half and flew off to the side, shattering one of the windows, was hilarious.

Had that been Benrey’s fault?

Maaaaybeeee.

Either way, months had passed since that point. Months spent working on building up Gordon’s trust in him, learning how to do human things like buy groceries that were not just soda.

A shame since Benrey loved that gamer fuel.

Getting to know Joshua had been… nice, too. The young boy never had the same anxieties that his father felt, never worried about whether Benrey would hurt him or not. He had been happy to make a new friend who was willing to listen to him ramble and play games with him. Of course, Gordon had not been happy with the developing friendship between the two, but as the months passed…

Gordon had gone from constantly hovering over them, to occasionally checking in on them, and then finally to trusting Benrey.

Trusting him to watch over his son and not hurt him.

The first time Benrey had noticed this change and realized what it meant; it had been impossible to stop the bright pink orbs that left his mouth. Fortunately, Gordon had not noticed the sweet voice, but Joshua had.

Joshua, who had later told him how pretty the “glowing balls” looked and how it resembled a very nice, peachy pink.

Kids could be so blunt sometimes, but Benrey appreciated it. He appreciated how simple and straightforward their minds could be and while curiosity was a constant factor when dealing with a kid, it was an enjoyable part of talking to them.

Like making a baking soda volcano on the ceiling of Gordon’s apartment.

Fun times, especially with the bout of strangely quietly screaming he had gotten in response.

Benrey didn’t know Gordon’s face could turn that red.

He let out an amused chuckle and drew some loops on the ground with his mostly eaten piece of chalk. He loved getting Gordon so riled up, hearing the insults that were thrown his way and how the agitated man would run his hands through his hair, ruffling it up.

Loved watching his face flush with anger, how his eyes shined with rage…

Unnoticed to Benrey, several pink orbs floated out of his mouth as he sighed wistfully. When he realized what he had done, clamping a hand over his mouth to prevent any more from appearing, he noticed that Joshua was staring at him, grinning.

Shit, one of the things he was actually scared of.

“heyyyyy little joshie buddy, what’s with that look? kinda… kinda looks like a schemin’ look.”

Joshua’s smile grew a bit wider. “Maaaybe.”

“... kid you’re scarin’ me.”

The only response he got to that was a giggling laugh that was part cackle, which left him feeling no less concerned than he had previously been. Benrey sighed and refocused on his random doodling. Yep, just going to let this topic drop-

“You love dad, don’t you?”

Shit.

Benrey looked up and pretended he could not feel the sweat running down his face. Everything was totally fine, he was cool as a cucumber, kid couldn’t suspect a thing…

“uhhh, sounds pretty cringe, bro.” He shrugged. “and gay.”

“Dad likes all sorts of people!” Joshua huffed. “He likes gay!”

“... that wasn’t-uh... never mind.” Oh fuck, was he blushing? He hoped not. “still cringe, not a pro gamer move.”

“You blushing when dad says something nice about you isn’t cringe.” Joshua bluntly stated. “It’s cute, and grandpa Coomer says gay stuff is cute! Grandpa Coomer’s super smart so it’s gotta be true!”

“we-well it’s… uh…” Shit, he had no response to that.

“Dad makes you happy.” Joshua continued to say, now refocusing on his doodle on the ground and Benrey could now see that it was a family of three people. One blue, one orange, and the smallest one was yellow. “Even if you’re weird sometimes, and pour milk in the cereal box before you eat it-”

“fruit loops get super dusty and i wanted to make soup.”

“Cereal isn’t soup!”

“it is if you’re brave enough.” The change in topic was helping Benrey relax, tension leaving his shoulders as his absent-minded smile returned to his face. Nothing to stress over, everything was chill and-

��So when are you and dad going to go out on a date?”

Nope no more chill nope nope nope-

A date? Benrey had no clue how dates worked, or how they were supposed to work. Besides, his attempts at “flirting” were rarely successful and only seemed to wind Gordon up and, as much as he enjoyed watching the results, sometimes Gordon’s remarks would… sting.

They would make him hurt, cause him to cringe and recoil from the conversation. Not that such a thing had happened recently, but Benrey knew how unpredictable Gordon’s mood and temperament could be at times.

“sounds super cringe.” Was the response Joshua got, combined with a tense shrug. “like-like over nine thousand level cringer-”

“That’s an oooooooold reference.” The young boy said as he stuck his tongue out at Benrey. “And you’re changing topics again!”

Oh god, there were now hearts scribbled around the doodles that were clearly supposed to be him and Gordon. What could he say, what was he supposed to say? That he was terrified of fucking up the “Good Ending” he had finally achieved? That he did not want to risk destroying the relationship he currently had with Gordon?

The months of hard work he had put into fixing the damage that had been done because of that stupid, stupid game-

He felt the chalk in his grip crumble and break apart due to how tightly he was holding it, but the thing that snapped him out of his reverie was the sensation of a smaller hand grabbing onto his.

Joshua?

Indeed, Joshua had scooted over and reached out to hold onto his hand. He looked up at Benrey with a warm smile on his face.

A smile he had seen many times from the boy’s father…

“If it’s hard to say it, why don’t you show you!” He suggested, still smiling that same smile. “Dad’ll understand! He gets my drawings all the time!”

Benrey felt his lips quirk up into the faintest hint of a grin at the suggestion, the tips of sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. “you sure that’s a pro gamer move?”

“Yup! It’s super pro gamer!”

“well, guess i’ve got no choice.” Benrey joked while rolling his tense shoulders. “joshie, toss me that orange one.”

“And blue?”

“you know it.”

As the sun started to descend from its zenith, shadows beginning to stretch across the pavement in front of the apartment building, Gordon finished up his cooking. Everything was stacked on plates and brought over to his, thankfully, ground level room and placed inside. Once that was taken care of, he went about cleaning everything up and putting his barbeque away.

He was so focused on cleaning everything up that he did not notice the large drawing that was progressively covering the pavement thanks to Benrey. It was only after all signs of his cooking had been neatly cleaned up or put away that he turned his attention to Joshua and his… “roommate”.

If he could call Benrey that.

“Time to head inside!” Gordon called out as he walked towards the duo. His walking slowed down as he noticed that Benrey was crouched in front of a large piece of chalk art. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

Huh, he had not expected Benrey to be the artistic type, aside from spitting balls into the air.

Joshua jumped up and rushed to his side, grabbing onto his arm, and tugging him towards Benrey.

“C’mon dad, look! It’s so cool!”

“Alright, slow down there Joshie.” Gordon chuckled as he allowed his son to pull him towards the art. “It wouldn’t be good if… I… tripped….”

His words slowed and eventually stopped entirely as he finally took in the sight of what Benrey had created and it was…

Beautiful.

Very abstract in nature, a swirl of colours that seemed to form shapes. Light blues and yellows and greens all circling and intermingling with a core that consisted of a darker, richer blue and orange.

Swirls and lines that worked together to create faces. His own and Benrey’s. He could also make out what appeared to be Coomer and Bubby in the background, green and light blue seeming to dance together like the pair would, and that warm yellow that encircled them all, Tommy, uniting them.

What…

As he leaned closer, Gordon noticed smaller details. How Benrey had drawn his hair to be similar to what it truly looked like despite the effort it must have taken. The dark shadows that had been scratched under the ex-guard’s eyes, the white and yellow that mixed together, an attempt to recreate his glowing irises.

How monstrous he looked overall and yet there was a softness in the lines, and the trail of bubbles that left the drawing’s mouth.

All a familiar pink.

Benrey was not as slick as he thought he was, Gordon had noticed the colourful orbs on multiple occasions before he had successfully stopped them. He had never pushed the boundary and asked what they meant since Benrey always seemed so embarrassed, but now…

“What’s pink translate to?” He asked, crouching down beside Benrey and bumping his shoulder against the other man.

Benrey was silent, contemplating what to say and how to say it, before he finally mumbled out the answer. “.... s’makes me think.”

“... Pink means you think?”

“yeah,” Benrey shifted and looked up at Gordon, eyes still cast in shadow. “think of you.”

Gordon’s mind drew a blank at that answer, uncertain of how to respond, but before he could even attempt to get the words out the other man took his chance.

He leaned towards Gordon and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips.

The gesture did not linger, but as Benrey leaned back Gordon could still feel the warmth of the kiss. He reached up and pressed his fingers against his lips and quietly wondered if he was dreaming.

Benrey sighed, a stream of pink sweet voice floating into the air and waited for Gordon to speak. It felt like an eternity had passed before the other man finally responded to the gesture, voice cracking.

“Y-You… really? Me? What? But… but you and I-”

“had problems?” Benrey interrupted, eyes fixating on the ground as he squeezed his hands. “no shit. feetman, if-if you don’t wanna-”

“Who said I didn’t?” At that, he looked up and stared at Gordon in surprise. “I was just surprised since you hadn’t said anything about that.”

“i joked about putting our minecraft beds together, bro.” Benrey bluntly stated, causing Gordon to flail as he struggled to explain himself.

“WELL YEAH! But… but I thought you were joking and shit-”

“Dollar for the swear jar!” Joshua cheerfully interrupted, making his dad groan.

“Okay, dollar later, but first,” He focused his attention back on Benrey, noticing how the other man’s cheeks had darkened and how he kept fidgeting. “... You sure?”

“wouldn’t have asked if i wasn’t.” Benrey quietly commented, now finally looking back at Gordon. “psh, pretty cringe doubting me-”

But he was cut off when Gordon leaned forward and returned the kiss. Joshua cheered and Benrey, completely caught off guard, fell backwards which caused a chain reaction of Gordon stumbling, fumbling, and nearly landing on top of him.

Gordon’s hands rested on the pavement beside Benrey’s shoulders as Gordon stared into the other man’s eyes. Both were blushing at this point, and a constant stream of pink sweet voice was leaking into the air.

“U-Uh-”

“dude, you gonna-”

“Are you guys gonna kiss again?” Joshua’s innocent question snapped the pair out of their stupor and they scrambled to get back up.

“W-Well, probably-”

“later, joshie bro.” That casual smile was back on Benrey’s face, an attempt at trying to look calm despite how much he was blushing. “we gotta… uh… get the meats’n stuff-”

“Yeah, like Arby’s!” Gordon nervously added. “But first…”

He quickly snapped several photos of the drawing Benrey had done on the pavement, also making sure to get several of Joshua’s in the process. Hey, he wanted to be able to look back on it in the future, plus he was certain some asshole would wash it off the pavement soon enough.

Besides, there was no way in hell he wanted Benrey’s hard work, one of the few examples of hard work, to go to waste.

“Okay, now we can get the meats.”

Joshua cheered and raced over to the apartment while Benrey joined his side, an arm brushing against him. In response, Gordon linked an arm with his and smiled at the other man.

“wow, that… that’s pretty gay, bro. You gayman now?”

“Totally.” Gordon rolled his eyes as he walked arm and arm back to the apartment with Benrey.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I continue to be on my bullshit while my muse demands domestic fluff for these two. I suppose it’s a good thing for my followers who are in this fandom XD

I hope you guys enjoyed reading!

- ImmortalCoelacanth

#my story #fanfiction #hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai joshua #wholesome fluff #domestic #benrey is artistic af

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coolkitty443 · 3 years

Text

Ok. So I LOVE the Felix and Bridgette anime Miraculous AU In this AU Felix, who is Cat Noir, has to get a kiss from Ladybug to break his bad luck. He then unintentionally falls in love with Ladybug. So I wrote this after being inspired by art on pinterest Anyways here it is;

FELIX:

Your hair is dark as night, your pretty bluebell eyes. I wonder who you are beneath that strong disguise. Everyday we see each other and I hope that you’ll be mine. Together, our love could be so true, please will you be my valentine.

I cannot believe I wrote this. When did I become such an incompetent idiot. This girl is turning me into a completely love sick airhead. Ladybug is never going to see this. I crumble up my lame attempt at poetry and throw it in the trash as I leave the classroom. I’m pathetic. Ladybug could never love me.

“Hi Felix!” I’m always waiting for the moment when she finally leaves me alone. Bridgette hasn’t gone a day without trying to engage my attention since the day we met. I really do try my best to disregard her pleasantries. However, she makes it rather difficult.

“It’s such a coincidence we keep running into each other.” Bridgette grins.

“Yes, particularly because I purposely choose a different cafe every day.” I turn back to my book trying again, my very best to ignore her.

Just as I’m getting to the interesting part of my novel I can feel it being snached from my grasp. I’m over this. She’s standing in front of me with my book in her hand, stretching it up as far as she can reach.

“Bridgette you’re a complete klutz.” I stand up from the chair I was reading on, so very clearly towering above her. “Were you seriously trying to raise it above my head?” Bridgette wouldn’t be taller than me if she stood on a step stool. It would be almost adorable, if she were anyone else. I pluck the book from her hands and stash it in my schoolbag. “You’re going to have to try a little harder than that. Bridgette, you’re simply not fit for intellectual accomplishments.”

Bridgette bounces up to the other side of the table and sits. She stares up at me, the same optimistic face she has on whenever she has something to tell me. Which is everyday. It’s quite miraculous that this girl hasn’t run out of things to blab on about yet. “What do you want.”

“I’m here to ask you on a date Felix. After all, it is Valentines day.” She beams up at me. That certainly wasn’t what I was expecting.

“Bridgette, no offence but the stars will fall from the sky before I agree to go on a date with you.” For some reason, she seems almost thrilled by my response.

“Promise?” She asks, smile never faltering.

“What do you mean promise? Don’t tell me you intend on believing you have a chance.” I can’t help but snicker at the thought of Bridgette desperately begging the stars to fall.

“Anything is possible Felix. We’re made for each other, you'll see that soon enough.” She holds out her pinkie and gives me an expectant glance.

“You’re so childish.” Still, I bring forward my pinkie and lock it with hers, holding on to the thought that even she, determined as she was, could not make the stars fall from the sky.

“Seems as if we have an agreement Cutie Pie.” She nods as if settling my fate. How is she so self-assured? I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” I snapped. Bridgette smiles and runs in the other direction.

“I’ll see you tonight Cutie Pie!” Bridgette giggles. “Wear something nice okay!” She’s completely absurd.

“You should seriously give that girl some more credit Felix. Bridgette seems like the kind of person with bright ideas.” Plagg articulated.

“Plagg if you shut up I’ll give you some camembert when we get home.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thump. There’s Bridgette. Right in the middle of my lonely pity party. Flying through my window.

“Damn it Bridgette you’re an idiot you’re going to get hurt. Get up.” She was laying in the middle of my floor. Which means that she got up onto the roof, scaled the wall, and climbed through my window. She’s unbelievably dense.

“Hi Felix! Aren’t you surprised?” She gets up and brushes dirt off her dress. It’s a deep blue and ends just above her knee. Silver constellations printed across the skirt. Bridgette got up onto the roof, scaled the wall, and climbed in through my window. In what looks like a designer item. I’m not fazed by anything she does anymore.

“I told you to wear something nice!” She pouts.

“That’s what this is about Bridgette? I told you that I’d go on a date with you when the stars fall from the sky. Leave me alone.” This time she doesn’t drag me. She just smiles, and walks towards the window. Just my luck. A meteor shower.

“You promised.”

The thought of going on a date with someone like Bridgette seems absolutely repulsive. The stars aren’t falling, they're simply relocating. But, I have nothing better to do tonight. So, I follow her out my bedroom window.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------————-

BRIDGETTE:

“You’re absolutely insane.” We were on the roof, a rope placed so we could get down, after I fixed it there as Ladybug.

“Yes, probably.” I can’t help but smile at the look of Felix’s face. Calm and collective as always, never daunted by my clever ideas. I had to find some way to get him out of the house without his father or bodyguard noticing, and it’s not like I could just carry him there as Ladybug. So we climb down.

Felix goes first, making it seem surprisingly undifficult. He’s stronger than he looks. All he does is read and practice piano all day. Strange. He gets to the bottom quickly with ease, leaving me to go next. I think I’ll make this a bit more entertaining for myself.

“Here I come!” I grab hold of the rope and jump off. Sliding down, I knock Felix to the ground, landing on top of him.

“Get. Off of me.” He shoves me off of him and gets up, sweeping dirt and grass off his jacket. Then, reaches his hand out to help me up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FELIX:

A rooftop dinner overlooking Paris. Why does she like me? Even Bridgette could find someone better than me. I’m not good for anything. Why go through so much trouble? She gestures for me to sit. There are candles, hearts, and roses everywhere. It’s tasteless.

“Happy Valentines day Felix.” Bridgette sits on the other side of the table and sets a large bowl of heart shaped chocolates in the middle. I don’t care for sweets.

“Are you in love with me Bridgette? This is quite extravagant for an evening conversation. You should try this with someone who actually likes you.” My question took her by surprise.

“I’ll have you know that there is someone head over heels for me. He’s just not my type.” she scoffed.

“You’d have to be a complete moron to be rejected by Bridgette Dupain-Cheng.” I laugh.

“What do you mean?” She seems a bit hurt by my comment. Does she honestly not know how she acts?

“Damn it Bridgette you’re pathetic. Following me around like a love sick puppy. I would never love someone like you. Give it up all ready.” It’s almost hilarious that she really hasn't caught on. “You know you’re the only one that hasn’t left me alone? The only one left that cares about me. You’re also the one person I couldn’t care less about. So leave me alone!” She’s always gotten on my nerves. Her determination makes my blood boil.

When I look over, I can see tears welling up in her eyes. Odd. no matter how many times I’ve offended her she’s always bounced back right away. That’s just who she is. A small ray of sunshine in an otherwise pitch black world. She’s still staring at me in shock, tears streaming down her face.

This time I went too far. I don’t think I ever really wanted to hurt her. I just wanted her to stay away from me. When you trust someone like me, you get hurt.

“I really did believe in you Felix.” Without another word, she gets up from the table and starts walking away. A black butterfly flutters towards her as she walks.

“Bridgette! Watch out!” I try to put distance between her and the akuma but it’s too late. The butterfly takes place in a chocolate that she was still holding and begins to overtake her emotions. I do the only thing I can think of, and pull her as tight to me as I can.

“Get your hands off me.” She’s struggling to get away but I can’t let her, so I wrap her into a tighter embrace.

“Please Bridgette, you can fight this. You believe in me, I believe in you too.” All I can do is plead as she fights against my hold. There’s still time, the akuma hasn’t completely taken over yet.

“Back off! Stop it!” She’s screaming now, tears furiously running down her cheeks. I can’t help her. “Get away from me! I hate you, I hate you.”

This girl is unbelievably strong. She’s fighting hard against her emotions, I can see that. Just need to hold on for a bit longer. I did this to her. Bridgette is in pain because of me. Why do I care? I didn’t yesterday.

“I hate you! I hate you! I ha-” She gives up struggling against my hold and sinks to the ground, crying as I hold her.

“I’m sorry.” I mutter. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.” Bridgette’s negative thoughts must have faded because the butterfly surrenders and tries to leave. Dumping the bowl of chocolates from the table, I trap the akuma.

“Why do you even tolerate me Bridgette? I’m horrible to everyone. You’re always so positive in every situation.”

“I have you. And even if you don’t want me, you’ll always have me.” She smiles and rubs the tears off her face.

“You don’t know a thing about who I really am Bridgette. If you knew you wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Your favourite is blue. You love reading romantic poetry, even though you try to hide it. You spend all your time in coffee shops to get out of spending time at home with your father.” She pauses and looks up from the chocolate piece she was fiddling with. “You pretend you want to be alone, but you’re glad that you have someone to talk to. Felix you can decline my gifts and push me away. What I know is, the boy I love, shoving his hand in my face and telling me he’s not interested everyday, still puts his book away when I try to talk to him.”

It’s terrifying, realizing that someone knows you better than you know yourself.

#miraculous world #miraculous au #chat noir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous ladybug #ml ladybug #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #les adventures de ladybug et chat noir

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treatian · 3 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 55: Nothing for Anything

August hadn't contacted him since he'd called him yesterday. But he knew that ultimately Emma Swan had gone to the puppet. He hadn't heard this from August but rather from Dove. After Sidney had been convicted, he'd recalled the bird from vacation and put him back to watching Emma. Last night, after the sun had gone down, he'd gotten a call from Dove he hadn't expected.

"Sir, I have a problem."

"What's happening, Mr. Dove?"

"Nothing with Emma that I can tell. She met up with Archie after you and then went to August. They left on his motorcycle, and they're heading out of town. I'm following them now, but Sir…I just got a call from my parent's nursing home. Something is wrong, and they need me to go in. Want me to keep following and call another one of my cousins to trade off?"

Fuck.

The damn Curse had struck again, it seemed; figuring out a way to keep Dove contained while an untouched Emma and August were free to go. The Curse was weakening, but apparently, that part of it hadn't weakened yet. Dammit! He'd really wanted to know where Booth was taking her, but if he'd sent another of Dove's cousin's out to replace him, next it would've been a car accident that kept him in town, and then he'd have been down a potential spy; the best of his spies. He had to live with letting them go and trust that Booth would fill him in when he could.

So he dismissed Dove, told him to go take care of his parents and check-in when he could. He expected it was nothing. The Curse had needed to pull him away from the town line, to haul him back to Storybrooke, probably it was simply an error or minor heart attack from his parents. He assumed he'd be back to work sometime the next day…just like he was.

There was always work to be done in the shop. It was almost a disappointment. With everything going on, with the Curse unraveling and threatening to shatter completely soon, it felt like a cruel punishment to have to do things like work ledger books and take inventory, to have to clean and polish unimportant items…

To tend to customers who didn't know anything about the battle that was being waged around them every day.

He looked up as the bell over his door chimed, expecting to see a customer, but hoping to see Emma or Booth, perhaps even Dove. Instead, Regina strode in. He knew just by the look on her face she was angry.

"Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, bracing himself for whatever she needed to get off her chest.

"My tree is dying. Why?" she snapped, setting a rotten apple down in front of him.

Probably because with her and Emma finally wanting to kill each other properly and August working toward getting Emma to believe in the Curse, her Majesty's pretty world was beginning to crumble around her. Not that he was going to tell her that.

"Perhaps, it's your fertilizer," he joked with a smile.

"You think this is funny? Well, I'll tell you what I think. I think it's a sign of the curse weakening because of Emma. But do you care? No. You're content to just sit back and do…whatever it is you're doing while all my hard work burns."

Yes. He did think it was funny, in fact. Not the bit about her dying tree; he didn't give a rat's arse about that. It was more that the tree was the first she seemed to be aware of the fact that his Curse was dying. Too distracted with Emma and Henry and Mary Margaret…it was like she hadn't even paid attention to her own "hard work" as it had begun to collapse around her. It was hilarious. Except for the fact that if she only focused on the Curse breaking, she might stop focusing on Emma. Now that, he suspected, was the real trouble, especially with what he'd learned over the last few days in regards to the Savior wanting her son back.

"That's not all, is it? Come on. You might as well get everything off your chest," he encouraged, moving away from her. Angry as she was, they were still Cursed. If she decided to do something violent, as she had in the Enchanted Forest, he wasn't fit to defend himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered. He nearly rolled his eyes. Nearly. Emma had needed a nudge. It stood to reason that she might as well.

"Henry," he stated easily. "Miss Swan wants him."

"She'll have that boy over my dead body."

"The Curse was meant to take away Snow White and Prince Charming's happiness. Perhaps, you giving up Henry is just the price to keep the Curse unbroken," he suggested knowing full well it would only rile her up. If it applied a bit more pressure to Emma, then that was exactly what he wanted.

"I think I'd rather just get rid of her."

Beautiful. Exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Well, well, you're going to have to be quite creative. We both know the repercussions in killing Miss Swan. The Curse will be-"

"The curse will be broken," Regina finished for him. "That's because you designed it that way. Undo it."

He laughed. She wasn't exactly wrong, but she wasn't right either. She still thought he'd made the Curse, designed it himself. She hadn't any idea it had actually come from his mother or that ensuring the Savior's death would break the Curse. Why she'd added that…he was clueless, it was probably a question he should have asked her that night they'd met if he hadn't been so stupidly overwhelmed. But what was done was done. The caveat was there, and given Regina's history of murder, he was almost grateful his mother had protected the Curse in that way. There was nothing he could do.

"You know…even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Magic…well…is in short supply around here and dwindling by the minute."

"You want the Curse broken," Regina breathed suddenly in astonishment. He felt his skin twitch and his blood boil. Sometimes he forgot how much they both knew each other. He had meant his comment as a joke, and he hadn't known she'd read him as well as she had. Fuck. "Why?"

"That's not something I care to discuss," he answered honestly.

"Don't bother. You can shove your reasons. I want to strike a new deal. One where I can get rid of Emma without shattering the Curse."

Typical Regina still not listening and never using the information she had wisely. "Unfortunately for you, a negotiation requires two interested parties, and I'm already planning a trip," he meant it to sound sarcastic as he walked away from her, meant it to scare and frighten her…he hoped that was what she'd take away from it.

"I'll give you anything."

"Oh," he sighed ominously, all the while pleased to hear that slight tremble in her voice.

She did know him well. She knew just how much he loved that word "anything." Any deal that had that was tempting, and yet here he stood…his heart didn't even flutter at the word. They were in the endgame now. As terrible a trick as it had been, Booth had helped to show him just how close they were getting. This was not and never had been about Regina, despite what she thought. And there was one thing in this world, this world specifically, that he loved more than "anything." That was his son. Nothing was going to distract him from that now. Especially not "anything."

"You no longer have anything I want, dearie. But I will give you a piece of advice, free of charge. I'd plan a trip of your own. Because, once people waken up and remember who you are and what you did to them…" he laughed menacingly and turned to a globe he had on the counter. He gave it a spin as he admired it as if considering the whole wide world already open to him. "They are going to be looking for blood…"

And if the way she stormed out of his shop suggested anything, she knew it too.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #dark one #mr gold #Emma Swan #august w booth #pinocchio #regina mills #evil queen #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Cogs in a Steel Heart

Chapter 5: Letting Go

Hugo makes his choice, and Cyrus decides its time to do a meet-the-parents.

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331849/chapters/60360532

Hugo made his choice at the edge of the dark kingdom. In typical Hugo fashion, he does so with a wink and a lie. As if Cyrus is just some rich noble he’s conning out of his money, and not someone who’s been able to see through him for years.

“It's the wrong kingdom,” Hugo says. “The trial is in the ice kingdom just that way, but I’ll lead them through this one just to keep them occupied for a bit, so there’s no need to pay too much attention.”

Cyrus wondered why Hugo always seemed to think he’s dumb. He’s not. He may not be a genius on the level of Hugo and Donella, but he’s not an idiot. He checked with Donella to gain a map of all the kingdoms involved on the quest before he left so he could pack properly. Hugo should have noticed, except he’d been too busy tapping his foot impatiently and complaining that leaving now meant now and not in an hour later.

He knows that this is not the correct place. He knows that Hugo is lying to him to try and get him to back off and not report it all back to Donella. He can see through this flimsy excuse and read Hugo’s true intentions: he’s choosing Goggles and his team over Donella.

“Ok,” he says in response. Because he’s fine with that. Really. If this is what Hugo wants, well, he’s nineteen, its high time he started thinking for himself. And besides, there was a spark in Hugo’s eyes he hadn’t seen in years, burning bright. He’s practically weightless, bouncing on his feet like a man who’d finally had the weight of the world removed from his shoulders.

Hugo turned to leave, spring in his step, and Cyrus felt his lips twitch slightly upward as he watched him go. Hugo had found happiness, and it warmed Cyrus’s soul to see.

At the edge of the clearing, Hugo stopped, head turning slightly back to Cyrus. Cyrus hastily removed any trace of emotion from his face, staring back as impassively as he could manage. Hugo hesitated. “Mona,” he said.

“Yeah?” Cyrus said, wariness leaking into his voice. Hugo never used someone’s real name unless he was about to discuss something important.

“I never thanked her,” Hugo looked down at his feet, “for the hat.”

“Oh,” Cyrus blinked. That was unexpected. Hugo had learned to say ‘thank you.’ He wondered who had taught him that. “I’ll pass on the thanks,” he offers with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Of course,” Hugo turned back to the trail ahead. “Thank you Cyrus,” he says, a finality in his words that told Cyrus he wasn’t being thanked for passing on a message. His gut twisted as he watched Hugo step forward, vanishing among the trees.

Cyrus stood in the clearing for a long while, lost in thought as the blackened leaves fell down around him. Finally he grit his teeth and released two words, “Ahh hell.”

----------------

“It’s not that I don’t think that this is good for him. He’s happy! Happier than I’ve ever seen him! And he’s nineteen, so its damn time he went through a little teenage rebellion! It’s just-” Cyrus ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “-I just don’t know anything about these people and what they think of Hugo!” He threw up his hands in the air and looked at his audience for a reaction.

His audience, a dusty old crow that apparently didn’t know how to fly or stand properly lay on a log and gave a caw. Cyrus decided to take it as an agreement.

“Exactly! I know what Hugo thinks of them. But I also know Firecracker and Princess were suspicious before they learned to trust him, what’s to stop them from suspecting him again the next time something goes wrong? And he’s so infatuated with this Goggles, but Goggles was willing to up and abandon everyone! I can’t just leave Hugo with people like that without figuring out what they’re really like. Right?”

The crow didn’t respond in favor of pecking up in the air like he expected it to be wood. Cyrus sighed. He missed Mona. She’d know what to do. But she wasn’t here, and he didn’t have time to send her a letter and ask her for advice.

He tapped his fingers to his chin. “I need to meet Hugo’s friends, make sure they actually care about Hugo, and aren’t about to leave him dead in a ditch somewhere. It’s my job after all, as his bodyguard.”

He glanced back at the crow, who had somehow dragged itself up into a semi-upright position. “What do you think about doing a bit of improv?”

The crow gave a squawk of agreement and promptly fell off the log.

------------------

Cyrus adjusted the bear mask more properly over his face. Perfect. The crow, for all its inability to fly in straight lines, seemed surprisingly adept at finding threatening disguises. He gave the bird a sly grin, and it proceeded to caw in the wrong direction as its eyes spun in circles.

He picked it up and put it on his shoulder. There, final touch complete. Now he looked like a madman. He’d have to take the mask off for some of the more theatrical bits, but this would make a pretty good entrance. He gripped his club, took in a deep breath, and stepped out from the trees and into the dark kingdom.

The dark kingdom was, and there was no other words for it, creepy. The soil was blackened and dark, and instead of trees large black spikes littered the land. Cyrus had thought most of them had disappeared ages ago, put apparently some roots were too thick for even magic to remove. He suppressed a shutter and strode forward with large, echoing footprints.

Hugo’s team had stopped below a slight cliff, no doubt resting after getting their old donkey down. Or was it a mule? Cyrus couldn’t be certain. Whatever it was looked like it had outlived several lifetimes worth of drama. Even now it looked up at Cyrus’s bear costume as it chewed the grass, unimpressed to the extreme.

“What is it Prometheus?” A boy said, following his gaze upwards. He was shorter than Hugo, with goggles on his head and a wizard’s staff in his left hand. Cyrus briefly wondered if this was the Goggles he’d heard so much about. The boy looked up at him, expression wary. “Are you King Edmund?”

“What?” Cyrus gaped, completely thrown off track.

“Your son mentioned your love of bear clothing,” the boy continued with a slight cough into his hand.

Cyrus turned to look at the crow in confusion. The crow began to eat one of the bear’s ears. Cyrus looked back down at the four people below him, expressions ranging from wary to hopeful. He sighed. There goes his fear factor. Looks like he’d have to start step two sooner than he thought. “I don’t know who this king is. But if you really want to know,-” he threw off the hood, causing the crow on his shoulder to shriek and take off into the air, “-I’ve been following you. You have something I need, and I’m not leaving until I get it.” He lowered his knees slightly and hunched his shoulders, gritting his teeth into his most ferocious smile.

Behind Goggles, Hugo facepalmed.

His friends tensed. The girl and the little boy drew closer to Goggles, pulling out strange glowing chemicals and...was that a giant firecracker? Well, that nickname was certainly accurate, Cyrus thought as he eyed at the boy was now most definitely Firecracker. Goggles fingered the strange balls on his sash, and narrowed his eyes at Cyrus. “We aren't giving up the totems.”

“Oh I’m not here for the totems,” Cyrus drew himself up to his full height. “I’m here for him.” He pointed a finger directly at Hugo. Hugo’s jaw went slack.

“Me?” he pointed a finger at his chest. What are you doing Cyrus? his expression said.

Hugo’s companions all glanced back at Hugo, and he quickly schooled his expression to one of neutral confusion. Princess sighed, a hand on her hips. “What did you do Hugo?” Goggles and even Firecracker looked exasperated.

“Nothing!” Hugo protested. “I don’t know this guy!”

“You don’t need to know me,” Cyrus waved his hand at Hugo’s words. “My employer knows you, and they’ll pay a pretty penny for the head of the Alchemist who screwed over the Baron Von Drake!” It was the name of a royal Hugo had screwed over for something, Cyrus couldn’t remember what. But there was no point in bringing up Donella in the likely scenario that Hugo had not mentioned her to his team after he switched sides.

Hugo’s eyebrow rose. “You mean that guy who I sold the hair potion too?”

Cyrus held back a snort of laughter, disguising it as a cough. Oh it was that guy, heavens above that had been hilarious. Concentrate Cyrus, sad things, dead cats, hunger. He gave his best frown. “Yes, and he wants you dead for it.”

“For hair?” Goggles exclaimed.

Cyrus shrugged. “You know nobles, ruthless over the stupidest things.” Princess gave the slightest flinch, and Hugo’s brow furrowed. “But look,” Cyrus added, desperate to bring this back on track. “I’m a reasonable man. Just give me the criminal, and no one else has to get hurt.”

The three looked at each other. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Goggles said as he drew back his arm, a ball in his hand. “But thanks for being so polite about it.”

Cyrus made no move to dodge the ball as it fell, releasing a sticky substance that coated his feet. The crow landed beside it and began to peck, but to no avail.

“It should wear off in a few hours,” Goggles said, turning away. “Bye,”

Cyrus smiled. Straining his legs he kicked out, sending the hardened purple crumbling all around him. The crow gave a cry and flew off. The three children below gasped and drew back. Even Hugo, who was fully aware of exactly how strong Cyrus was, looked a little impressed. Cyrus wasn’t certain why though, an antidote to the purple goo had been the first thing Hugo had brewed, did he think Donella had asked for that purely for research purposes? Cyrus had coated nearly a whole bottle’s worth on his boots for this very attack.

But whatever the reason, the surprise worked in his favor, and Cyrus was not going to waist it. He jumped down the cliff like it was nothing, this one was completely on him he was pleased to admit, and charged straight at Hugo.

“What are you doing?” Hugo hissed as he ducked under Cyrus’s punch.

“Helping,” Cyrus hissed back as he ducked under a brightly colored ball. “Play along.” Hugo did not look at all convinced as Cyrus landed a solid kick and sent Hugo flying backwards.

Ooof. He thought as Hugo landed hard on his butt, gasping for breath. He hadn’t meant to kick him that hard. He tried not to wince as he slowed himself to a threatening walk.

“Stay away from him!” Goggles threw himself forward at Cyrus, clawing at his sides. Cyrus peeled him off easily, wondering why someone so smart would attack with his hands. He was quickly answered when something strange and green started to grow on his armor, no doubt another attempt to make him stop. Too bad Donella had Hugo-proofed this armor long ago to make their team ups go smoother, and if the smell of this was anything to go by, Hugo had definitely helped in its creation.

“That ain’t gonna work on me kid,” he said as he tossed Goggles back at Hugo. Hugo stretched out his arms to catch him, but ended up falling back, winded a second time. Goggles struggled to sit up, but ultimately fell back on Hugo, dazed.

“Leave him alone!” Princess jumped in Cyrus’s path. She raised a hand to her chest. “If it's money you are after, I am Princess Nuru of the Air Kingdom. I can easily settle any debit my companion has created.”

Appealing to his character’s obvious greed? Not a bad move. Except for how she exposed herself as an even more appealing target. Seriously, had Hugo taught her nothing about survival. Not that it mattered, he wasn’t here to kidnap princesses. “It doesn't work like that little lady,” Cyrus shrugged. “I have a code.” He stepped forward, and Princess spread her arms defensively. Cyrus rolled his eyes. “And what are you going to do to stop me little lady? You aren’t even armed.”

Princess’s lips twitched upwards, and too late Cyrus realized he hadn’t been paying attention to Firecracker. He whirled around, only to catch a glimpse of a giant firecracker coming straight towards him. He ducked, the firecracker grazing his back. A flash of victory filled Cyrus, and then numb shock as he was pulled along into the air.

Cyrus realized where he had smelled that stench before as he flew through the air. Hugo’s sticking powder. They’d turned it into goo! Well, Cyrus would be damned if that wasn’t impressive. He cast one more glance back at the little group. Varian was still struggling to unattach himself from the goo that held him to Hugo. Princess was kneeling beside them, giggling. Yong held a firecracker up, clearly offering to blow them free, and from Hugo’s expression, half horrified, and half amused, it looked like they didn’t have another one. But even with the growing fear in his eyes as the pyromaniac began lighting the firecrackers, Cyrus could tell he was completely happy. They’d take good care of him.

He smiled as the firecracker exploded behind him, sending him scorched and flying into the open air.

------------

“What were you thinking?” Hugo demanded as he found him hours later, sitting on a log as he tried to recover from being blown out of the sky.

“I told you,” Cyrus pressed a cooling paste to his burned skin and silently thanked alchemy’s healing wonders. “I’m helping.”

“Helping? Helping? You call that helping?!” Hugo threw his hands into the air. “You attacked us! You nearly blew my cover!” He leaned down to get in Cyrus’s face, emerald eyes blazing with fury.

Cyrus stared back, unimpressed. “I didn’t put your cover in any kind of danger. I didn’t mention we knew each other, or Donella at all.”

“You didn’t have too!” Hugo shoved a finger in Cyrus’s chest. “I go to talk to you every other week! If one of them follows me and sees us together, it’s all over!” He punctuated the last line by pushing his finger deeper into Cyrus’s chest.

“Well then,” Cyrus shrugged and batted Hugo’s hand away. “I guess I’ll have to go back to Donella, tell her how I blew it, and how you can’t make reports anymore without me so there's no point in waiting for them.”

“Wh-what?” Hugo stepped back, eyes wide. “That means...” he shook his head, “No. No that will never work. The next kingdom is the iron kingdom, and Donella’s going to make a move for sure. Once they see you with her...”

“Then they will think she employed someone who has both openly admitted to not knowing you, and holds a personal grudge.” Cyrus crossed his arms and smiled. “Even if she completely outs you as a spy, they’ll never believe you wouldn’t have met a colleague as old as me, much less let me attack you for no reason. It will just look like we’re trying to smear you.”

“That is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” Hugo scowled. “It has so many holes it would sink like a stone in water.”

“Perhaps,” Cyrus rose to his feet. “But it's done now. So you’ll just have to continue on this quest, without any supervision or anyone to stop you if you decide to stick with them.” He began to limp over to grab his stuff.

“Oh,” Hugo’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Finally he got out. “Cyrus...”

The bushes began to rustle, and Cyrus jolted upright, body moving to block Hugo from view. “Leave,” he hissed. Hugo didn’t need telling twice, scrambling back into the foliage back towards his friends. He did not look back.

The rustling stopped as the crow jumped out. Cyrus let his shoulders relax as it cocked it head sideways to stare up at him with one eye while the other one spun in circles. “There you are, you coward,” he sighed. “You left me all by myself back there.”

The crow gave a sharp caw, and began to peck at the open air. Cyrus sighed as he sat back down. “It's over now,” he told the bird. “I’ll head back to Donella and tell her I messed up while Hugo stays here with his friends.”

The crow stared at him, it's usually mobile eyes stopping to pin him into place. Cyrus felt a shiver run down his back at the intelligence hidden deep inside them.

“Odin’s eyes,” his grandpa’s voice whispered in his ears. “Whatever the crow sees the king of the dark sees too.”

Cyrus shook his head to clear it of the fear. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” he told the crow. “You don’t know what’s like to raise a son. Sometimes staying with you just isn’t good for them.”

A strange, animalistic sympathy flashed across the crow’s bulging eyes. Then it bowed its head and began pecking at a rock on the ground, missing every now and then to hit the open air. All its intelligence seemed to vanish as if it had been nothing but Cyrus’s imagination.

Cyrus watched it peck away, mind still on Hugo and his friends. It was good that they cared about Hugo. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if they didn’t. But they had been willing to face Cyrus for Hugo, so they were all right in Cyrus’s book. Kinda small though. He briefly wondered if he should follow after them regardless, just to make sure they stayed alive. But no. They’d made short work of him, they would be fine.

Hugo would be fine. He was an adult now. Making his own friends and his own decisions. He didn’t need Cyrus to take out the trash anymore.

--------------

The alley behind the bar had been dark, but that was to Cyrus’s advantage, deep shadows hiding even his large form. Not that he needed surprise. His target wasn’t exactly in the best fighting shape. It was far from sporting, but as every thug in the guild could tell you, sporting wasn’t a thug’s job. Especially for people like this. Cyrus pulled his lips into a sharp smile.

Grimoire stepped into the alleyway, two friends at his side. Smart of him to have lackeys with him, but alas, still not enough. Cyrus darted forward, slamming a fist to the lackey on the left. Grimoire ducks, but Cyrus keeps his fist going, knocking the first lackey’s head into the second’s and sending them both crumbling to the ground. Good. He didn’t recognize them from earlier, so it was best to leave them out of this.

Grimoire scowled at him, already aware of what was coming. “Didn’t you tell the brat you’d leave me alive?” he mocked as he pulled out a knife and dropped into a waiting stance.

Cyrus didn’t bother to respond. Grimoire lunged with his knife at Cyrus’s stomach, but Cyrus sidestepped, catching the blade in one hand and twisting Grimoire’s wrist with the other. A single, well placed blow was all it took, and the man slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Cyrus took the knife and quietly finished him off. It was quick and painless, far better than he deserved. But Cyrus wasn’t the type to relish in cruelty when efficiency was an option. Task done, he turned on his heel, a strange satisfaction filled his stomach as he left the body to rot in the back alley.

There would be no consequences for this crime, Cyrus knew. There was no guild to protect Grimoire. And besides, there was a certain understanding on the streets about those who hurt children, even ones as annoying as Hugo. Even if everyone knew who killed Grimoire, no one was going to say anything. Sometimes it was better to let thugs be thugs.

Hugo never talked to Cyrus about Grimoire, but Cyrus could see a weight on his shoulders lift as news traveled around the underground that he was dead, killed in some back alley robbery. He didn’t seem to care to look any further into the flimsy details, like how nothing of Grimoire’s had been taken. Cyrus in turn never offered up any information of his own involvement.

Donella never said anything either. But the next day she quietly called Cyrus into her office and told him his probationary period was up, and he was now a full employee. It might have been a coincidence, but Cyrus had a feeling that the old bat knew far more than she was telling. Not that it much mattered. What was done was done.

---------------

The crow let out a sharp caw, startling Cyrus out of his dark thoughts. He shook his head and focused on the strange bird, who was now perched beside him one the log, somehow upside down.

“Guess I best be going,” he said as he rose to his feet. He gave the odd bird a two fingered salute. “It's been an honor to serve with you, my weird friend, but I’ve got to get home to my wife.” The bird raised a wing as if to give a salute back, and began absently nibbling on his own feathers.

Cyrus felt his lips twitch into a smile as he turned his face towards the setting sun, and home. He hoped Mona was making her famous stew. He’d send her a letter as soon as he ran into a town, and let her know to have some ready when he got back. He’d have quite the story to tell her over it.

#varian and the seven kingdoms #seven kingdoms au #hugo the human #varian #cyrus #yong #Princess Nuru #varigo #cogs in a steel heart #final chapter #thank you so much for reading

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sad-af1121 · 5 years

Text

A Nuisance (One-shot)

Summary: Everyone has their bad days and unfortunately yours was a mixture of exhaustion and being sick. Steve and Bucky made it their goal to make your day a little better by spoiling you the best they can but how could they help when every ounce of physical love annoyed you? | Marvel AU | Pairings: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: language, some angst? (idk if you count a pouty steve as angst but sure) fluff, comedy and cute-ness overload

A/N: i’m sorry in advance if it seems rushed but i really did try to make it comedic and cute. It’s been a rough two weeks and i really wanted to get this done before the deadline for @babylevines writing challenge! Congrats on the 4k follower's babe! I hope you enjoy :3 Prompt: “Touch me with your cold feet one more time and see what happens.” | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

“They didn’t have any fresh lemons at the store so I got generic lemon juice,” Bucky informed Steve, shutting the front door of their shared apartment. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen island before pulling the contents out from the bags.

Steve turned away from the stove, his eyes scanning the counter. “Buck, why are there so many ice cream flavors? I asked you to get what Y/N likes.”

Bucky sighed, “I didn’t get one flavor of ice cream because I figured if I got the ones she likes, she can pick based off her mood when she gets back home.” He shrugged and walked to the fridge. Steve hummed to Bucky’s remark since he did have a point.

You were called in to work in the early hours of the day, the sun wasn’t even shining through the dull grey-blue skies yet and on top of that, you were fighting a small cold. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness and your passion to work, Steve and Bucky wouldn’t have let you leave, let alone leave the bed. They constantly checked on you, knowing you were going to end up very cranky and exhausted for the rest of the day. After they both came back home from work, they decided to pamper you for the night.

The house chores and dinner would be done by the time you got home. All you would have to do was rest and enjoy the evening and the following weekend with your boys. However, they were hoping that their plan would work and brighten up your mood, but that would be something they’d have to wait and see.

“Buck-”

“She’s parking the car,” Bucky smirked, looking up from his phone screen. “I’ve been texting Babygirl all day. Chill dude, worst-case scenario, she throws a pillow at you for treating her like some fragile pup.”

“Ha, ha. Shut up,” Steve swallowed, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He was only this way when you weren’t feeling your best. If the world came crumbling down, Steve would make sure to be your shield, protecting you from any harm because you meant everything to him. Both you and Bucky kept the flame of life burning in his chest.

The sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning caught both of Bucky and Steve’s attention as they prepared themselves for you. Door swinging open, you trudged into your apartment, shutting the door behind you before slumping against the hard flat surface.

Nose slightly discolored with droopy eyelids, you sniffled, sighing in what sounded like a tinge of satisfaction, “I’m hoooome!” You strained, voice raspy and heavy due to your sinus acting up again. Steve involuntarily pouted, his heart aching to see the sight of you so sick and tired. Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, steadying himself from the anger that was bubbling from within. He craved nothing more than to call your bosses and tell them a thing or two about a proper workplace and how to respectfully treat employees who were under the weather.

Who else calls someone in to work and put others in jeopardy for getting them sick? It’s diabolical.

Giggling at yourself, you move away from the door and set your things to the side, stepping into the kitchen, “What’s all this?” Eyes roaming across the stove then to the dining table, you saw dinner had been made and set for you. The corners of your lips twitched into a lopsided smirk as you looked up at Steve.

“You didn’t have to do all this, baby. We could have ordered take out. I know how hard work can be on you two,” you turned and looked at Bucky who was already standing behind you with a smirk to mirror yours.

“We wanted to do this for you, doll. You work so hard too, ‘n hell, if we want to spoil you, we will. Periodt.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, cringing. “I get your trying to stay hip and modern but PLEASE don’t say that word around me again,” you chuckled as did the boys.

Both Bucky and Steve began to walk toward you and your gut knew they wanted a kiss, but you stopped them the minute they got close, placing a hand on their chests. “I’m sick remember? I don’t think you guys want to get close to me.”

“We’ll be fine. We’re super-”

“Yeah, yeah, super soldiers but I’m not risking it, Steve. Once I’m feeling better, I’ll repay you guys in so many kisses that you’ll be sick of me. But as of right now, I don’t want to be touched,” you sighed, looking between Bucky and Steve.

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve who seemed to be having a hard time dealing with your mood. You saw how his jaw clenched, his heart feeling the slight sting from how forward you were with your emotions and it wasn’t like Steve was against it. He needed to adjust. There was no doubt that Steve didn’t respect your wishes and so he stepped away, clearing his throat before busying himself in washing the dishes from cooking. You swallowed thickly, a small pout forming along your lips.

“Hey, America’s ass.”

Steve turned and you blew him a kiss, hoping it would warm his heart and silently tell him you loved him. When he smiled back, a twinkle forming in his eyes, you knew he was okay. The feelings of content and relief washing over you. It was Bucky’s turn now and you did the same, blowing a kiss, then giggling right after.

His lips bloomed into a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with admiration and bashfulness. You found this incredibly adorable and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. After that, you headed to the bedroom to change into your pj’s.

Once you disappeared into your room, Steve stepped away from the kitchen and joined Bucky on the couch who was playing a game on his phone.

“Don’t mess with Y/N, okay? I think she’d find your annoyance anything but cute today. You saw how she’s acting. Wouldn’t want to ruin her night if you two end up arguing,” Steve warned with a sigh, reminding his lover. On your usual days, you’d find Bucky’s teasing hilarious and downright appealing. However, when you suffered through a rough day like today, for example, you and Bucky would get into a banter that neither parties like to endure. It wasn’t severely serious or anything of that sort and always ended up in kisses and hugs but Steve wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Maybe he was treating you like a small puppy dog after all.

***

“Ugh, baby. You’re the fucking beeeest,” you groaned into your food, your eyes practically rolling inside your head. Your taste buds pranced with happiness, the flavors bringing waves of satisfaction and desire for more. The heat from your supper opened your pores and sinus which allowed some of your tasting senses to come alive.

Steve grinned brightly, looking over at Bucky who chuckled at the blonde for his victory smile. “Had to make my girl happy.”

“You mean our girl, jerk,” Bucky corrected, playfully glaring into Steve’s eyes whilst ripping a piece of baguette with his teeth, chomping on the bread. Steve’s face twisted with disgust and you barked out a laugh, your cheeks warming to how possessive they were getting over you.

“Okay, okay, chillax dudes. I don’t want any bloodshed over dinner. Y’all can wait till after I’m done,” you snorted as Bucky threw a piece of bread at you. You threw one in return which started a mini food war.

“No. Nooope,” Steve got up from the table and opted to eat on the kitchen island. “Totally unnecessary,” he whispered under his breath and it became unfortunate for him because you and Bucky ended up throwing food at him instead.

After dinner, the three of you decided to watch a movie since it was a Friday and none of you had to wake up early the next day. Bucky was picking out a movie, trying to connect his phone to the TV since he found a site that posted movies online without having to leave the comfort of your home and going to the movie theatre.

You quietly sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, waiting for Bucky. Technology wasn’t his thing but you gave him some room to try before you helped. It was the only way he was going to learn and you loved when he figured it out himself, his charming yet victorious smile blossoming across his face when he succeeded.

Steve had filled three bowls of popcorn since everyone ate theirs differently. Bucky didn’t like too much butter but you did and Steve was just in the middle with added caramel popcorn in the mix so it wasn’t unusual when you guys had your own popcorn rather than share it. He strolled into the living room, setting the bowls on the coffee table before deciding to take a seat next to you.

In Steve’s mind, he thought since dinner was successful and you seemed to be in a better mood, you wouldn't mind if he cuddled, missing the warmth of your body and the touch he just craved so often. It relaxed his every sense, any contact sending an electrifying current throughout his body and sparking something in his heart. You felt like home and being touch-starved by you today wasn’t sitting so nicely with Steve.

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, Steve adjusted himself on the couch before feeling his arm being lifted off your shoulders and into his lap.

“Steve, c’ mon babe. I’m really not in the mood. I’m sorry,” you huffed, a tinge of annoyance lacing your words. “I warned you earlier about getting yourself sick.” You scooted away from him, hoping your soft eyes would make up for it but Steve just growled, getting up and fetching his sketchbook from the shelf by the television.

Not only did he sit away from you but he ignored your attention, frustration weighing on his shoulders. He flipped through the pages of his book in search for a clean page to draw his emotions on and you mentally kicked yourself in the ass because you pushed Steve’s limit.

Huffing in remorse, you snuggled against your blanket, cozying up with the soft material that smelled of lavender. Bucky had finally gotten the movie to play, rushed to the couch and decided to sit with you since Steve was sulking on the other couch.

About 45 minutes into the movie, Bucky had his legs spread out, his head resting on the armrest while his body laid straight, his feet almost touching you. Lost in the plot of the film, you hadn’t noticed he pushed his sockless, icy cold feet under your blanket, the warmth wrapping itself around them. It brought a sort of relief that he wanted more warmth. More from you.

So that was when he touched his feet against your heated thighs, his toes digging in and out of your skin as if he was trying to massage you like a cat would knead a pillow. Instantly, you withdrew a breath, your senses coming into reality. The cold shook you like a bolt of lightning, your nerves screaming for an escape. You allow a few minutes to go by, assuming he’d halt his actions. But the longer you waited, the more he thought it was an invitation to continue.

The only solution you knew at the time was to take deep steady breaths, ignoring the fact that his freezing cold feet were touching your hot skin which brought a shiver throughout your body. You already had the chills due to your sickness and Bucky wasn’t making things any better for you now. What was up with your boyfriends today?

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughed at the television, pulling his legs back. You nipped your lips in happiness, doing a small victory dance in your head. Just as you’re getting comfortable again, Bucky placed his feet back in its previous position, causing you to huff out loud.

“Touch me with your cold feet one more time, and see what happens.”

Both Bucky and Steve whipped their heads towards you, their brows knitting together in confusion. You stare back at them, widening your eyes then signaling down with your eyes to show them the issue.

Inhaling deeply, Bucky paused the movie, “Jesus, really? You could’ve just asked me baby before threatening me.”

Those words alone brought a lump of guilt in your throat. You were very snappy today and it wasn’t like you to get this annoyed.

“Fuck, sorry,” you pouted. “I think I should just get to bed and leave you guys alone. I promise to be better tomorrow,” you whined quietly, your eyes darting between the two.

Bucky silently gnawed on his lower lip before turning his attention to Steve and winking at the old soul. Steve himself was utterly confused but he knew that mischievous smirk in Bucky’s eyes which gave him everything he needed to know.

As you were ready to leave the couch, Bucky leaped towards you, trapping your body underneath his as he playfully growled against your neck and jaw. You had no time to react differently, only the sounds of laughter breaking past your lips. Then came his fingers digging in your sides, the familiar zaps of delight coursing through your nerves. Tickling made your body turn into putty because once someone started, it was harder for you to escape their hold than it was to take it all in and not laugh.

Steve took this time to record a video of the events unfolding in front of his eyes, using a filter that made voices very high pitched. It was one of his favorites when he made videos and he couldn’t get over the fact it made people sound like they were on helium.

“Steve! St-stop recording and save m-meee!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

Your shrieks of bliss and neediness were enough for Steve to toss his book to the side and pull Bucky off your body, throwing the brunette to the ground with a loud thud.

“What the fuck, Steve!”

“Save it punk. Meet us in the room,” he breathed out a chuckle, sweeping you off the couch and carrying you to your bedroom. You buried your face into his chest in attempts to hide the growing smile that ached your cheeks even more. But you knew he already saw it and now he was going to make sure he gets all the kisses and cuddles he wants.

Even if that meant getting sick because Steve and Bucky would risk everything for you.

__________

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