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#the perfect amount of angst and anxiety and reassurance
suni-writings · 3 months
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Running out of time.
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jude bellingham x fem!reader
When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.
part 2 | part 3
wc: 2.3k
(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)
“I can't do this anymore.”
The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.
If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.
She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?
She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.
Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.
So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.
As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.
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“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.
She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.
But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.
“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.
“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”
She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 
“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”
She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.
“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.
“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.
The first and only rule was already broken.
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“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.
They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.
“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”
What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.
“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?
“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”
She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.
She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.
But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.
That’s all she knew how to do.
So, she just accepted it.
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She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.
When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.
“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.
“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.
He sighed deeply.
“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”
She sighed, crossing her arms.
“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”
“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”
He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.
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“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.
They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.
He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.
“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”
“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”
“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.
“You’re annoying,” he joked.
“Touché.”
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“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”
She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?
Why didn’t she run away?
She was so good at that.
“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”
“I don’t—”
“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”
“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”
And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.
“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”
He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.
“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.
That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.
He didn’t bother to explain.
In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.
That’s how they ended up here.
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“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”
She laughed dryly.
“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.
“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.
“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”
“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”
“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.
“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.
It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.
A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.
But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.
“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.
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erodasfishtacos · 3 months
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Digging A Deeper Hole || MLB ||
Prompt: Harry is going through a rough adjustment to his new life. At twenty-one, he was the face of a massive franchise, a father, and a husband with millions watching his every mood. He starts to feel it. Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Angst - please keep in mind H is young here so he’s a bit more immature than one shots where he’s older. He’s still figuring stuff out
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========================= Harry had the weight on the world on his shoulders.
The past year had been the best but most stressful time that he has ever had in his life.
He hadn’t had a break, it was go, go, go.
At the age of twenty-one, it felt like he had responsibilities that most people never had this amount of.
He had expectations from every side, especially from work, though it sounded like a dream to be the new face of Major League Baseball, to be the highest paid rookie to start, or the fact that he was a projected to be one of the best players of all time.
It came at a cost.
A really fucking big cost.
It took Harry a while to realize that he was experiencing some depression, the pressure of his coaches, the team, the public, and on top of that, he was navigating being newly married with a baby.
++
”Styles, get off the phone!” His assistant coach shouted from the field, he should be jogging onto the mound because practice was nearly over, and everyone was ready to head back to the hotels.
“Hold the fuck on!” Harry shouts back without looking up, waiting for the FaceTime call to connect, he had thought he had more time before they started up again.
Harry’s heart leaps when it connects, his perfect baby in the camera view, blowing raspberries between chewing on teether that looked like car keys, “Say ‘hi’ to your daddy!”
Easton is too little to quite comprehend the phone but he blinks in confusion at the screen before blowing another wet raspberry towards his father.
”Hi East, look at how handsome you look,” Harry croons, trying to memorize every little feature because he’s only going to be this small for a little while, “Your daddy misses you so much.”
YN pulls the phone to her face for a moment, “I took him on a walk around Central Park earlier today and he saw a group of pigeons. He squealed so loudly that they all flew away in a flock and he started giggling. I wish I would have gotten it on video.”
”He really does love the pigeons-“ Harry begins but is cut off.
”Styles, final warning. Get off your phone or I’m locking it up! Now,” The other coach yells, starting to actually get pissed, and Harry has to resist the urge to flip them off.
”H,” YN says knowingly, it was pretty common that he was getting yelled at, “Go practice.”
“I want to be home with you,” Harry frowns, he truly means it.
”I know,” YN agrees with kind understanding on her face, “Go kick some ass for us.”
++
He didn’t get to spend the time he wanted at home with his family, the away games caused him to panic, and he was starting to have anxiety attacks as he steps onto the private jet.
Harry was blowing YN’s phone up at any free moment he got, asking to FaceTime to see her and Easton, and YN had noticed how much more he was asking for reassurance, it was frequent.
++
”He’s sleepy. He just fed for almost an hour,” YN murmurs, tired herself and her eyes were heavy, it was undeniable that she had a lot on her plate with taking care of Easton by herself.
YN did see Anne once or twice a week but she was adamant that she did not need help raising her own baby, that she was fully capable of taking care of Easton by herself when Harry wasn’t home.
Easton was ten-months at this point, splayed on his mother’s chest with a milk-drunk little smile as he laid his small fist on her neck, easily starting to drift to sleep.
Harry feels a pang of disgusting, gnarly guilt and disappointment that he’s not there to lay in bed with them, and he felt like a piece of shit for sitting in this swanky hotel room by himself.
”Harry?” YN asks after he doesn’t respond, he was just watching the screen as his wife ran her fingers through Easton’s soft baby curls, silky smooth.
Harry swallows harshly to avoid the tears prickling, “I love you so much. You know that?”
YN smiles at him, soft and warm, “We love you so much. We miss you and cannot wait for you to get home. We both want so many cuddles with you.”
Harry’s jaw clenches, scrunching his nose, and feel the pit in his stomach get deeper, darker, rawer, and it felt overwhelming as he sat alone with his family on the other side of the country.
It felt suffocating that he wanted to go home but he couldn’t because he had a contract, a job, he had to provide, and he worked his whole life to be where he’s at.
He’s in a position that billions would want to be in but all he can think about is being with his family, he would give up everything he’d ever accomplished to cuddle with them every night.
But he couldn’t, deep down, he knew that it was his emotions getting the best of him, and it’s disappointing that he’s not enjoying baseball like he thought he would right now.
“I…I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles, rubbing his eye roughly to catch the tears before they fall any further.
YN’s smile falls which makes him feel even worse, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?”
”I’m not there to help you,” Harry presses his face into his forearm to try to stop the tears, “I’m just sittin’ here in a hotel room, I’m fuckin’ useless to you.”
”Hey,” YN says firmly, lips going into a straight line, “Harry, you are not useless. How could you think that? You’re providing for us. You make it possible for me to stay at home, in this beautiful home, with everything we’d ever need, and spend every moment with Easton. That’s because of you.”
It makes Harry feel a bit better, that perspective on the situation because he hadn’t looked at it like that, “I’ll always provide for you two.”
”You’re the best provider. We love you so much. We are so proud of you. Easton is going to be so so proud of his daddy and what a good man you are to us,” YN tells him confidently, thter’s no wavering in her voice as she watches Harry’s reaction.
Harry hangs his head, done trying to stop the tears, he didn’t feel good.
He had felt depression a few times in his life, the most when he was going through his struggles with his sexuality, and it was starting to feel like that again.
”Harry,” YN’s voice is soft, careful, “Are you okay, baby? What made you so upset?”
Harry wipes his face with the back of his hand, he didn’t want to worry YN.
She had so much on her plate right now that the last thing she needed to worry about was his mental health because he needed to pull it together and stop being so emotional.
”I just miss you,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t a lie but it really wasn’t the full truth, there was so much more to it than what he was letting on but he could handle it on his own.
Lord knows he had enough time while he was sitting in this hotel room alone or had a flight on the private jet.
++
Harry felt like a car ran him over, twice, and then backed up over him.
He did as good as everyone expected him to do during the games in San Diego, he won all three of the games with too many strikeouts to count, and two home runs to get them scores.
Harry was able to shut his mind off during the games, all he was thinking about was his job, and what he needed to do to make sure that they won the games - that was it.
Afterwards, the creeping feelings that had been haunting him especially hard this past month or so wouldn’t wait very long to pop up again after the games.
He started demanding a flight home the night of the last game, everyone else always waited until the next day because traveling right after playing was near torture with the exhaustion.
Harry felt like death as he landed in New York City, his bones were heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds each, his arm was sore from how many pitches he had to throw, and he hadn’t been sleeping well when he was away from YN and the baby.
His heart was a bit lighter as he opened the front door to their home, the smell of his favorite brownies hitting his nose, and a peel of bubbly, angelic baby giggles echoed through the hallway.
Harry needed to see them, he dropped his bag and didn’t care that his cologne bottle most likely just shattered inside because of how careless he was being.
No, he was making his way toward the smell and sounds, and when he found what he waas looking for - his stomach untwisted just the slightest and everything didn’t seem so bleak for a moment.
YN turns around, having been alerted to his entrance by his bag dropping, Easton was on her hip and had a spatula in his hand, gnawing on it happily.
”Who is that, East?” YN bounces him up and down, “Is that your daddy?”
Harry wants to cry tears of relief when Easton drops the spatula, letting it clatter onto the tile, and starts to cry.
He was the cutest little thing.
Whenever Harry got home from work, Easton would start to cry because he wanted him, and was sad like he just realized that he had been missing him all day and he was finally home with him.
”Oh my goodness,” YN hums as Easton wiggles, starting to reach out for him with grabbing hands, dramatic tears running down his face as his pouty bottom lip wobbles.
”No tears, bub,” Harry coos as he steps forward, taking Easton out of her arms, and giving him the biggest hug he can manage as he presses kisses to the side of his face, his hair, his nose, “I missed you so much. I hate being away from you, East, miss you every moment.”
YN is watching with a content smile, patiently waiting her turn as he blinks over at her, his voice still soft and raspy, “Hi mama.”
”Hi H,” YN whispers back, stepping forward to cup his jaw and bring their lips together in a kiss, her thumb rubbing the stubble of his jawline and her other squeezing his hip, “I missed you.”
Harry hates that he feels the lump in his throat, “I fuckin’ missed you so much. I can’t explain how much I hate being away from you and him. I am so grateful that you’re so good to me and East. You know that?”
One of YN’s love languages was definitely words of affirmation so to hear such nice compliments really did mean a lot to her because she didn’t always feel the most secure either.
It was a lot to have her husband traveling all the time, where if he wanted, there would be unlimited opportunities for him to make bad choices because there was not a shortage of men and women who would bed him without a second thought.
YN had complete and utter trust in him.
It wasn’t ever a real concern but when Harry was as gorgeous as he was, it was hard not to feel a bit of insecurity when people often let it be known how much they found him attractive.
”Thank you, H,” YN brings him in for another kiss, “Dinner is almost ready. Brownies are also baking in the oven. Easton was my little helper but was trying to get his chunky fingers in the raw batter which he had an attitude about when I told him ‘no’.”
”You better listen to your mama,” Harry hums at his son, munching at his neck until Easton is giggling and pulling at his curls to keep him close, he loved his father so much, “Be nice to mama, Easton Robin.”
YN reaches forward, “Go get a shower. Settle in a little bit.”
Harry passes Easton back but frowns, “Darling, I can take him and manage. You have had him for the last week.”
YN waves him off, “I got him for a few minutes longer. Get showered, dressed, then we can eat dinner, and cuddle. Okay?”
”Sounds like a dream,” Harry replies because it really does, all that he wants is to be able to hold them in his arms, and start filling this hole that starts to eat away at him every time he has to leave.`
++
After Harry showers, he tugs on his briefs, and sits on the edge of the bed.
He doesn’t know how he fell asleep like that but it seemed to happen nearly as soon as he plopped down on the plush of their bed because he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, after an exhausting game and seven hours of travel.
The next time he wakes up, it’s completely dark in the bedroom, and he blinks his eyes open to see the alarm clock reading that it was three in the morning.
YN was fast asleep on her side of the bed, baby monitor on the side table, and Easton was sleeping in his nursery on his back with a binky halfway out of his mouth.
Harry squeezes his eyes shut, putting his fists to them for a moment as he grits his teeth, “Fuck fuck fuck.”
He gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb YN, she looked so fucking pretty while she slept and Harry was in disbelief of what a fucking idiot he was.
YN not only watched Easton for the past week, she managed everything else for their household, made Harry dinner and dessert, all for him to fall asleep.
She needs a break from the baby, YN should have gotten one last night after all her hard work, and Harry just went and fell asleep like a bloody teenager with no responsibilities.
He grabs the baby monitor so that YN won’t be woken up, hoping that she will sleep in for as long as possible in the morning, and Harry can take on baby duties.
Harry’s plan was to clean the house, the least he could do as an apology but everything was near spotless thanks to his wife, and when he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes from dinner.
There were none, YN had put all the leftovers away, wrapped the brownies, and cleaned all the pots and pans - as well as all of Easton’s bottles.
”Fuck me,” Harry grunts as he resists the urge to hit something, instead slamming his fists on the countertop, and staring at nothing as he feels the deep hole become bigger, “Such a fuck-up.”
Harry doesn’t even know what he can do to repay her, to make it up to her, and the mixture of his anxiety and depression had to be the gnarliest combination because they were kicking his ass.
His anxiety starts taking over and an intrusive thought starts to pop into his brain and he can’t shake it.
What if she leaves you?
What if she doesn’t think you’re a good enough father?
She does all this for you and you treat her like shit the moment you come home?
You don’t deserve her.
Harry’s throat tightens up, it feels hard to breathe for a few minutes as he tries taking slow, deep inhales before repeating the process to help try to regulate his breathing.
He had to make this up to her.
++
Harry manages Easton by himself, that wasn’t an issue, and he was even able to run out to grab YN’s favorite donuts from a few blocks down before she was up.
Harry was currently in the living room, laying on the floor with Easton as he played with these soft, big blocks, and smiled at his father with only two little teeth showing on his bottom gums.
”Morning, well afternoon,” YN laughs as she looks at the clock on the wall, it was nearly twelve and she was able to catch up on all the sleep she desperately needs, “You didn’t need to let me sleep for that long, H. I appreciate it though, felt super nice to be able to get re-energized.”
”It’s the least I could do,” Harry replies, the enthusiasm that was usually in his voice was missing, and he struggled to meet her eye because he was embarassed.
YN knows something is off as she sits down next to them, scooping Easton up and tucking him under her big shirt where he can excitedly start to nurse - he very begrudgingly used a bottle but it was always a bit more difficult to get him to eat with one.
”Are you sure you’re okay?” YN frowns as she rubs his knee, “You seem down. Did something happen?”
”I’m a piece of shit,” Harry chuckles without humor, throwing his hands up, “Isn’t it obvious? I leave you at home with the baby and then the minute I get home, I fall asleep and don’t do shit to help you. On top of that, you made dinner and I didn’t even eat it.”
YN’s frown turns into more of a scowl, “Harry, what has you talking like this? Did someone say something to you? I don’t like when you talk like that. You were exhausted! You were just away for a week, training and playing, and have so much other than that going on. Do you really think that I’m mad about that?”
“I’m mad about how I acted because it effects you,” Harry grits back, his anxiety and depression had a tendency to make him cranky in a way that he normally wouldn’t be, “It’s no excuse. You get no excuses. I need to do better.”
”You need to stop talking like that,” YN retorts as she stares back at him with a twitch of her brow, “Everything is fine. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. This is how our life looks sometimes and that’s okay. You are doing this to take care of us.”
“It feels pretty fuckin’ selfish right now,” Harry shakes his head, standing up and trying to hide the wince from how achey his muscles were, he should do a cold plunge but he’s not going to take anymore time for himself - he dosn’t deserve it.
“How is it selfish?” YN is getting frustrated, her leg shaking slightly but then she stops when she realizes that it’s jostling Easton and he whines in displeasure.
”I get to get a full night’s sleep in a luxury hotel room, you’re here.”
YN scoffs, licking over her teeth, “Yeah, Harry. It’s a massive hardship, living in a three million dollar home in the middle of the Upper East Side. I think I’ll survive.”
“That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Harry cracks his neck, his anxiety made his heart rate feel like he was constantly running a marathon, it was hard for him to keep his composure.
”Don’t talk to me like that,” YN raises her voice, moving to get up with Easton still suckling away, “This isn’t how you show appreciation, Harry. I’m just trying to have a conversation and you have an attitude.”
Harry knows that he’s just going to continue to dig himself a deeper pit than he’s already in if he keeps talking.
Most of the time, he did not feel like like a twenty-one year old despite his boyish looks but right now, he felt like he was acting his age and it wasn’t a good thing.
”Why don’t you take Easton and see your mom today,” YN offers, her voice is still tight but trying to keep it cordial as she brings Easton out from under her shirt.
He was blinking languidly, his lips smacking in satisfaction as his belly was full, and YN hands him over to Harry to take, “Yeah, I’ll get him ready and go.”
It was a good opportunity to give YN a break but he was honestly a bit surprised that she took him up on it or that she didn’t want to come with because when Harry came home, they tried to stay together as much as possible.
He does know that he’s acting like a complete dickhead which makes sense why she wasn’t dying to spend time with him right night, still it was just odd because it’s unlike her.
”Sounds good,” YN pulls out her phone, looking down and fingers flitting across the screen which was also a bit odd, how she was a distracted by it because it was unlike her just like her letting him go alone.
God, Harry was making a fucking mess, wasn’t he? +++++++++++++++++
It stuck out like a sore thumb when Harry was off.
Normally, he was the most easy-going, bubbly, funny person who stole most of the attention when he wasn’t even trying.
It was how he captured everyone’s interest whether it was his big grin that had his dimples showing deep in the pockets of his cheeks, the way he threw his head back and let out these low raspy chuckles, or just how he nodded attentively when someone else was talking.
So when he wasn’t feeling like himself, all those things that lit up rooms disappeared, and it was hard for him to socialize.
Harry was still beating himself up the entire ride outside of the city to his mother’s house, Easton was napping in the back and this would be a nice sleep before the excitement of Nana’s house.
Harry was replaying everything with YN, from the way he was sharp with her to get short with her when she did absolutely nothing to deserve that from him because she was so fucking good to him - all the time.
YN never complained about anything.
She never complained about being at home with the baby alone.
YN never tied to guilt Harry because he was away during the season so much.
It makes it so much worse that he’s not able to hold his shit together even just for YN, he didn’t want her to worry about his mental health, that’s the last thing she needed on her plate.
He was going to figure this out himself.
It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like he couldn’t talk to her, it was more that he knew she cares so much that it might upset her or make her worry when he’s on the road, all he wants for her is to focus on Easton and herself.
Harry normally loves going up to his mom’s, a little lake house that he had bought her with one of his first paychecks, despite how much she huffed and puffed, he knew that it was a dream of hers to live on the water.
It was the least he could do after she did so much to make his dreams come true.
However, despite Harry getting a decent amount of sleep, he felt bone tired and just drained was the best way to explain it - he felt like all the energy that he normally feels has been sucked clean out of him.
He wanted to turn the car around, go home, crawl into bed with YN and Easton, and not have to interact with anyone else for at least a week but that wasn’t possible with his schedule.
Harry should be enjoying his time right now.
They have an off week which meant that he had nearly two and a half weeks at home because the following week were games at their home stadium so he could be home every night.
Harry just couldn’t wait for this season to be over.
And that thought alone alarmed him because he fucking loved baseball, he loved being the best of the best, he loved all the recognition he got but right now his desire was lower than it’s been in a really long time.
When he pulls down the long driveway, a house sat back off the residential road where she had neighbors but there was a good amount of distance between the them to give privacy and seclusion.
He sees that there are multiple cars in the driveway which makes Harry groan because he didn’t realize that his mom was going to call over friends and family since he was coming to visit.
Anne did that sometimes, when Harry called saying that he’d be up, she would call aunts, uncles, relatives, and close friends to come for a barbecue, and it was the last thing he wanted right now.
He was already a bit peeved that his mother didn’t ask him first because he would have very clearly told her that he wasn’t in the mood to entertain people, to answer questions, and talk about baseball for a good five hours.
When Harry opens the back door, Easton’s already awake and smiling at his father with a gummy smile, his two bottom baby teeth made him look so adorable but he knew that more were going to popping through soon.
”Hi, sweetheart,” Harry hums softly as he unbuckles his baby, bringing him up into his arms and into a hug, kissing his temple, “I love you so much, you know that? M’only away so that you have everythin’ you’d ever want. Miss you every second-“
A smack comes heartily on his back, right on his throwing shoulder where the soreness is radiating like a motherfucker, and he has to grit his teeth to not curse and startle Easton.
”Buddy, how much did this ride cost ya?” His Uncle Chuck, his mom’s brother asks obnoxiously, “Saw these things were going for a hundred and some change?”
Harry takes a deep breath, his patience was wearing thin, and he had barely made it out of the car, “I don’t remember how much it cost.”
“That’s what being rich gets you, huh? Twenty-one with a fat bank account and no responsibilities. I would have loved to have a life like yours,” Chuck chortles as he leans up against said expensive SUV, beer in his hand.
“I have plenty of fuckin’ responsibilities,” Harry bites back, scolding himself for cursing in from of Easton, even if he was too young to understand, he tried not to make it a habit.
“Sure you do, bud,” His uncle laughs, clearly not catching onto Harry’s mood, “Last thing I’d want is a baby with everything that you have going on. Growing up too fast.”
“Luckily, it’s not your life,” Harry brushes him off, picking up Easton’s diaper bag on his free shoulder and hikes him up, “We’ll be in soon. Give us a minute.”
His uncle shrugs before staggering off, a drunken sway in his step as he stumbles back towards the house.
Harry buries his nose in Easton’s downy, fresh smelling wispy curls to steady his breathing, he feels a bit emotional as he talks to his son.
“M’sorry, East. Daddy doesn’t feel good right now,” Harry swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just have to pull it together. God, I love you. My baby.”
Harry gives himself another minute of grounding before taking a deep exhale and shutting the door, walking towards the house.
Everyone was on the back patio, sipping on drinks, and cheering when they saw him.
Dread settles heavy in Harry’s stomach as his family members as they start asking him about his games, wanting to recap every play he’s made, his sponsorships and his much he’s getting paid.
Harry’s trying to keep up the conversation but all he can think about is how much he didn’t want to be there, and he should have just taken Easton to the park or something more low-key.
When he bumps into his mom in the kitchen, Anne is prepping a salad and smiles back at her son - unaware of his mood.
“Isn’t this fun, hun?” Anne asks happily, sprinkling in some spices as she hums.
“Why couldn’t it have just been us? I have to be around people all the time and I thought it was just going to be you. Now I have to entertain all of them,” Harry’s tone definitely takes her aback as she puts down the tongs she was using.
“Usually you love when everyone’s here, I don’t understand,” Anne’s smile drops, wiping her hands on the dishrag.
“Does anybody ever consider that I don’t love talking about baseball every second of the day or how much money is in my bank account?” Harry’s tone is venomous and resentful, unfairly harsh on his mom when she hadn’t tried to upset him.
“Harr-“ Anne begins to apologize, albeit, a bit confused.
“Easton’s almost ready for a nap,” He cuts her off as he checks his watch, it didn’t really matter what time it was, he was done.
“My bedroom-“
“No, I’m going home,” Harry shakes his head, turning on his heel. He has the decency to look back and say, “Sorry, mom. I just can’t be here.”
Easton was currently being held by his Aunt Jane, he was starting to fuss because he had a bottle not too long ago and he was starting to get cranky.
“Alright, we’re going to head out. East needs his nap,” Harry announces, hiking on the diaper bag, and starting to walk over.
“Oh, we barely see him! Just a few more minutes with this little one. You can hold off his nap for a little!” His Aunt Jane jokingly holds him tighter for a minute and nothing right now is funny to Harry.
Harry doesn’t get loud but his voice gets steely as he reaches down and scoops Easton up from her lap, “Don’t tell me how to take care of my baby, understood?”
His poor aunt is taken aback, just like his mom, and nods.
Harry storms out without another glance back, ignoring the whispers about how odd he was acting and rude.
When he straps Easton in, the dark bubble in belly subsides for a moment- like sun breaking through storm clouds.
“Daaa,” Easton coos, happy but tired, tucking his binky back between his lips.
“Good job, baby,” Harry sniffles, blinking up towards the sky to keep the tears away, “Fuck, get it together.”
Harry had to pepper at least ten kisses on Easton’s warm, sleepy face before he’s able to close the door and get in the driver’s seat.
Harry presses on the console touch screen, calling YN, and he frowns when it goes straight to voicemail which was very unlike her.
He tries again.
Voicemail.
He pulls out his phone, trying to check her location, and it hasn’t updated in the past hour - it was just unusual for her phone to die, always on standby but he tries not to worry.
YN was probably still very pissed off at him, if he was to bet, she put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ so that she could take a well deserved nap and not be bothered.
Harry squeezes the steering wheel, reminding himself once again, “Pull yourself together.”
But in the back of his mind, an anxious thought pops in, well multiple.
What is YN is leaving you?
What if she’s sick of not having you around as much as other wives have their husbands?
First time you see her in a week and you treat her like shit. You really think she’ll stay?
Harry has never once thought like that, even when they’ve gotten in serious fights but god damn, he couldn’t stop his mind from going a million miles a minute, and it felt like shit.
Nothing was wrong.
Everything felt like it’s crumbling.
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urwhorecrux · 9 months
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⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ 𝗛𝗣 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 - 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗔 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗘
ft. harry potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, & james potter.
pairings. harry potter boys x gn!reader.
a/n. the last one makes me sad :( these were all so rushed lmao
warnings. mentions of anxiety, some angst?, mentions of death, gn!reader.
masterlist
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— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
you awoke in a sweat when an unexpected nightmare had occured. this one had been bad, and unusual even for you. this time it’d had been worse, voldemort actually had harry and was stronger and confident. the sounds of faint whimpering filled the room, as you felt a hand reach out for you, you awoke in a panic.
“what’s going on love?”, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a comforting hug.
you admitted the truth about your nightmare, and how you fear for his safety given everything that’s going on now.
“i know its a lot happening right now, but i’ll be here by your side throughout all of it darling.” he brings you closely and gently presses a kiss on your forehead, reassuring you that he was there.
— 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
it had been past midnight when you woke in terror, loudly gasping for breath. ron, by your side, quickly awoke too, reaching out for your hand for comfort in the moment.
“what’s going on what happened?” he asked, attempting to quickly calm you.
before you could even start gathering your words to say, he pulled you close into his chest, mumbling his reassuring words to you.
after a while of feeling the warmth of his hug and hearing his comforting words, he cups your face pulling you close into him, asking you what’s really wrong.
“y’know, mum used to sing me this song that helped me sleep when i was little, would you want me to sing it to you love?” he suggests.
he calmly and quietly sings to you softly, as he hold you close in his arms.
— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘
after a long day of school and studying you’d both decided to stay in his own dorm for the rest of the night, him suggesting you stay the night with him. with that, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, happily.
with him being a light sleeper, it was easy to wake up to the sound of heavy breaths and frantic footsteps.
“y/n?, what is it?” he questions, reaching for you.
“just a really really bad dream” you say, hiding your face of tears in your hands.
“c’mon darling it’ll all be alright, just c’mere, come closer” he pulls back the duvet and makes room for you to come back to bed.
he quickly spoons you, pressing soft kisses on your forehead before mumbling his reassuring words.
— 𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘
you’d been worried and stressing due to exams, and cedric was worried about you overworking yourself and about your sleep schedule.
he made sure you stayed in his dorm so you’d been getting enough sleep.
one night quidditch practice ran late, making him stay an extra hour than usual while you wait for him in his dorm.
when he gets back he notices the lights still on, with you awake and frantically pacing across the room with teary eyes and a rough face.
“baby? what are you doing?”
you turn to him and quickly run to his arms, slightly sobbing while holding him closer.
he notices you trying to come out with words but everything came out all wrong, all in mumbles he couldn’t start to understand.
“shh no need to explain love, just let me hold you alright?” you nod as he strokes your hair, trying to softly calm you down.
after he calms you and listens to your explanation, he cuddles you back to sleep, reassuring you that he’s always there, and holding you until you fall back asleep.
— 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 (post!hogwarts)
james always makes it home from work on time just so he sees you before bed in the perfect amount of time. you’d usually wake up in the middle of the night with him already laying there even though he wasn’t there when you fell asleep, so it was quite an unusual experience when he didn’t wake up next to you.
“james?”, you call out, noticing the timestamp on the clock, which reads 3:44 am.
“james?!”, you yell louder, quickly growing suspicious of the area.
he heard your yells down the hall, quickly rushing into to the bedroom worried.
“y/n? what happened darling?”
you sigh in relief knowing he’s still here, holding out your arms and wrapping him into you.
“i thought you-“
“you thought i what love?”
you tell him the truth about your worries given everything thats going on lately, with going into hiding nightmares didn’t make anything better.
“it’s alright though love, ‘m here i promise, we’ll be safe and this will all be over soon.”
he pulls you back into bed, holding you as close as possible and for as long as he could, hoping this would never end.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year
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Separation Anxiety (Chapter 03)
Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love
When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.
++ Masterpost ++
Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 3.5k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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Chapter 03
Your mind wants to leave, but you can't go. This is a happy house. We're happy here. (House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd)
The brat is an idiot. Not that it comes as a surprise, but Sukuna rolls his eyes at the sheer amount of naivety that lives inside Itadori. All it takes are a few words of reassurance, all lies, of course, and a hug from a man who is a total stranger to the brat in his current state, to convince him they are in a relationship. Ridiculous! It's almost too easy. But it doesn't lessen the smug pleasure Sukuna feels burning in his veins upon seeing the brat all tame and obedient.
A pleased smirk spreads over Sukuna's face as he lets Itadori cry in his arms. When he has enough of the boy's clinginess and his snot soaking Sukuna's shirt, he sends him sleeping again with a flick of his fingers, pulling away from the brat and laughing when he sees him tumble ungracefully head first onto the bed, where he snores into the silk pillow.
Sukuna stays in the guest room for a long time, sitting on the edge of the bed watching his former vessel sleep. The vessel that used to be his prison. Now the tables have turned. Now Itadori is the one who is being kept in Sukuna's cage.
Sukuna laughs softly as he leans over the sleeping boy and runs a long finger slowly down the brat's tear-stained cheek.
A hunger is simmering beneath his skin, growing more intense by the minute, filling him with a craving he hasn't felt in forever. All the things he could do to the brat!
It takes all of Sukuna's self-restraint to stop himself from taking Itadori right then and there. But he knows he has to be patient. He knows he will find even more satisfaction in manipulating the brat into becoming his little pet, who will come to him willingly. The mere thought of Itadori on his knees with a mouth full of Sukuna's cum, begging Sukuna to fuck him, makes his cock twitch.
It's hard to tear his gaze away from the sleeping boy, but Sukuna reluctantly leaves the guest room to go to his own bedroom.
There is no need to rush things. After all, Sukuna has the boy all to himself now, trapped in a golden cage. And the brat doesn't even know it. He will believe all the lies Sukuna tells him. He will feel safe with Sukuna. He will love Sukuna. And one day, when he discovers the truth, Sukuna will watch him break down like never before.
It will be a feast!
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Sukuna gets up early, not wanting to miss the boy waking up. He is sitting in the kitchen, sipping the tea Uraume prepared for him, when he hears the soft sound of a door sliding open. Sukuna smirks into the cup as he strains his ears to hear the soft pad of bare feet on the marble floor.
Come to me, little lost pet. Come to your Master.
A moment later, an exhausted-looking Itadori staggers into the kitchen, pink hair a mess, eyes still red from crying, his ruffled white shirt clinging to his muscular body, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, bare feet coming to a stop in the doorway when his gaze falls onto Sukuna.
Sukuna looks at him over the rim of his tea cup with a smile playing around his lips.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How are you feeling today?"
He silently compliments himself for the line. It's something he picked up from one of the stupid movies the brat always watched.
Big honey eyes blink at him. There is no hatred in them. The brat's memories really seem to be gone for good. Sukuna wonders whether he remembers the moment right after the ritual was completed. The moment Sukuna found him. But if he does, he probably thinks it was just a nightmare.
A nervous smile ghosts over Itadori's face.
"I'm ok, thanks."
A loud grumbling sound fills the kitchen, making the brat grimace and scratch his neck sheepishly.
"I'm hungry, though."
Even now, he is hungry. Like a stupid little boy. Sukuna's smile grows bigger. He puts his teacup down and calls for Uraume.
A few minutes later the boy is sitting across from Sukuna, eyeing him curiously while he digs into his breakfast like a starved man.
Disgusting.
He is munching his breakfast, open-mouthed, completely unashamed, like an animal. The only thing that shows he is nervous is when his eyes meet Sukuna's intense stare, and he blushes slightly and tears his gaze away from Sukuna to let it travel over the large fancy kitchen instead while his tan cheeks glow with a rosy tint.
Sukuna watches the brat's eyes widen as he takes in the high-end kitchen and the floor-to-ceiling windows. But instead of being intimidated by his luxurious surroundings, Itadori's face lights up in wonder.
"Whoa...what kind of place is this? And why are we so high up?"
He scrambles to his feet and walks to the window, pressing his hands and face against it, gazing out over the city in wonder before he exclaims loudly,
"Fuck! Is this a penthouse??"
Sukuna laughs softly. He has to admit that the apartment is pretty impressive, especially for an uncultured worm like the brat who thought his tiny room in his sorry excuse of a school was amazing.
Sukuna makes a sweeping gesture toward the kitchen while grinning at the brat,
"Feel free to look around. It's your home, after all."
The grin on Sukuna's face is wolfish, eyes glittering with sadistic pleasure. The little fool is so easy to toy with. He can see the way the boy jerks at Sukuna's words. As excited as he is about being in such a luxurious apartment, he is also distressed about waking up in this strange place with this stranger who tells him about a life he has no memories of.
The brat's excitement has faltered. His fingers press so firmly against the window that the knuckles turn white. His posture is tense, and the muscles on his back flexed. He gulps hard, making his adam's apple bop nervously.
Sukuna wants to bite the brat's neck, close his teeth around that adam's apple and leave his mark on what rightfully belongs to him. He feels arousal pool in his core when he sees how nervous the brat is, staring out the window while his sweaty palms leave stains on the glass.
But Itadori has never been one who lets himself get stopped by his fear. And so Sukuna watches him take a deep breath before turning to smile at Sukuna.
"This is such a cool place. Hey, um, where is the bathroom?"
"Oh, there are three. I'll show you. Come on, darling."
He likes using that pet name. He can see how flustered the brat gets when hearing it.
Sukuna grins as he steers the boy through the apartment with a hand on the small of his back, delighting in how Itadori tenses up at his touch but doesn't shake him off.
Good boy.
Sukuna's senses are filled with gleeful anticipation when they enter the master bathroom. How will the brat react when he sees himself in the mirror for the first time since waking up without his memories? Will there be a spark of recognition?
Sukuna watches him intently as they stop in front of the large double sink with the wide mirror.
The brat stares at his reflection with wide golden eyes, fear etched into his pretty face. Sukuna groans oh so softly as the arousal in his veins grows even more intense. He has unconsciously stepped closer to the brat, his body brushing against the boy's back, trapping him between the marble sink and Sukuna's body.
He keeps his eyes fixed on the boy's face in the mirror when he asks in a low velvety voice,
"Do you remember?"
He can feel the brat shudder when Sukuna's hot breath ghosts over the side of his neck where Sukuna's lips are just shy of touching his skin.
Itadori's breath hitches, but he shakes his head,
"No. I... I can't remember anything. This is so weird... I don't even recognize my own face."
He stares wide-eyed at his reflection, one of his hands coming up to tentatively touch his cheek. He looks on the brink of crying, golden eyes watery and filled with despair. Beautiful.
Sukuna can't resist anymore and finally presses his lips against Itadori's neck, grinning triumphantly when he feels the brat flinch.
There is no escape, little fool. I own you.
Itadori is truly at his mercy now. Such an easy little prey for the beast. It's making Sukuna a bit dizzy.
He grabs the boy's hips tightly, fingers slipping slightly under his shirt, fingernails digging possessively into Itadori's skin. The brat's pulse flutters nervously under Sukuna's lips, making him smirk. Sukuna's teeth graze over the boy's pulse point when he murmurs,
"It's ok, sweetheart. Don't be scared. You have me to help you learn everything about yourself again."
He presses another kiss onto the brat's warm skin, barely able to rein in his dark desires. He is so close to sinking his teeth into Itadori's flesh. So close to devouring what's rightfully his. But he holds back and leaves it at the light brush of his lips over the brat's skin.
Itadori makes a squeaking noise, and Sukuna can see the deep blush spreading over his cheeks. So nervous, so scared. It's delicious.
Sukuna smiles sugary sweet at him in the mirror while his lips still linger on the brat's neck. He is the very image of the caring boyfriend who just wants to reassure his poor, freaked-out lover. A hug, a few kisses, a loving smile. A master of deceit. Sukuna is proud of himself.
The emotions flickering over Itadori's face are a feast to his hungry eyes. Fear, surprise, embarrassment. His body is tense in Sukuna's embrace, strong muscles instinctively poised for flight or attack.
For a split second, Sukuna wonders if the brat will push him away and run. But then something flashes in those golden eyes. A new emotion.
Sukuna's eyes widen in fascination as he recognizes the expression on the brat's face. After so many years in the same body, he knows the boy by heart, and he knows this look. The boy looks guilty.
It's such a strange reaction that it makes the King of Curses frown momentarily. But then he feels the boy stir in his arms. Not to run away but to shift his weight and lean lightly against Sukuna.
Oh?
"Y... yeah. Thank you, Sukuna. I'm so grateful to have you."
Sukuna almost breaks out in laughter. So that's it? The stupid brat feels guilty for flinching and tensing up when the guy who claims to be his boyfriend touches him? And now he tries his best to be a good boy by leaning into the touch?
It's fascinating.
Itadori has always been so eager to please. But Sukuna has only seen him being that way toward others. When interacting with him, the boy was always a disobedient brat.
Not anymore.
Sukuna is cheering inwardly as he feels Itadori's muscular body lean on him. So brave, so sweet. It's amusing how the boy is forcing himself to swallow his uneasiness, trying to make up for his initial reaction by initiating even more body contact.
Itadori's selflessness has always been his biggest weakness. And now it's playing right into Sukuna's hands. Sukuna smiles as he rests his chin on the boy's shoulder. The brat feels so delicious pressed against him like that. All warm skin and firm muscles.
It's been a long time since Sukuna last touched someone outside of a fight, and the tight contact makes his body scream for more. He has to remind himself to keep the touch light. His hands aren't meant to be too intimate today. He has to earn the trust of the stupid boy who doesn't even recognize his own reflection.
So he just wraps his arms around Itadori's waist, holding him in a loose embrace. Just enough pressure to show his claim. To show him where he belongs. This time the boy doesn't flinch.
Sukuna smirks, meeting Itadori's gaze in the mirror.
"You have all the time in the world to get used to things again."
It was the right choice of words. The boy relaxes in his embrace, and a grateful smile spreads over his face. Maybe a part of him even likes to be touched that way. He has always been a pathetic little fool, daydreaming about stupid romantic situations, craving to touch and be touched and be held, though he hardly got any chances to do that.
The boy studies his own face thoroughly in the mirror before his gaze wanders to Sukuna's reflection.
"You know it's funny... We kinda look alike."
This time Sukuna really laughs.
It's true, of course. Even after their separation, the two of them look similar. They have the same face shape, high cheekbones, and angular features. The same pink hair, only styled differently.
But now that Sukuna sees their faces directly next to each other, he can spot a few differences.
Itadori's eyes are bigger, while Sukuna's are narrower. Of course, their eye colors are different too. Light brown and light blue. Warm like gold and cold like sapphires. Itadori's gaze is open and trusting, like a puppy looking at its owner. Sukuna's gaze is calculating, filled with the aloof arrogance of a cat.
Sukuna's skin is a shade lighter, and he is taller than the brat. A bit broader, too, though they both have a similar build, tall with firm muscles, strong and powerful.
What's quite funny is that the scars under the brat's eyes are gone. Instead, Sukuna is now the one who has those fine red lines where his extra pair of eyes in his true curse form used to be.
Another reminder of his former life are the black lines decorating Sukuna's body and face. Those marks will never go away. Tattoed into his skin with magic, lasting even after a thousand years and until the end of time. Right now, they do a good job making Sukuna look like a slightly older and more dangerous version of Itadori.
Looking at his and the brat's reflection, Sukuna must admit they look good together.
He cocks his head and gives the boy a lazy smile in the mirror.
"You think we look alike? Yeah, I think so too. Shows that we have good taste."
The brat blinks at him for a moment, then his face scrunches up in amusement, and loud laughter bursts out of his lips.
"You're really funny, Sukuna!"
And just like that, the remaining tension leaves his body, and he is all relaxed in Sukuna's arms, laughing and smiling his dumb sunshine smile, golden eyes brimming with genuine amusement.
"Hopefully, I'll get used to everything again soon. I hope I won't be too annoying, though, with all my questions."
"You're never annoying, darling. I'm delighted to have you by my side."
Sukuna watches hungrily as another blush makes the boy's cheeks glow. It makes Sukuna wish he had flirted with him sooner. He could have had so much fun getting the brat flustered all those prior years!
But he has all the time in the world now to do that. Sukuna knows that he'll have lots of fun with his brat.
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They continue their house tour and finally reach the last room. The one Sukuna saved until the end for dramatic purposes.
He drums his nails against the wooden door frame, grinning as he slowly pushes the two large doors to the side, sliding them open to reveal a large beautiful room with a king-sized bed.
There's a long moment of loaded silence as they linger in the open doorway, looking into the master bedroom.
The implications are clear, and the brat's head must be spinning from it. Sukuna told him they are a couple. They live together, which must lead the brat to assume they usually sleep in the same bed. And that means this must be the bed where they do all the things a couple does.
Sukuna watches the brat's eyes widen. Itadori's gaze slips from the bed to Sukuna and back again while a blush creeps up from his shirt collar to his cheeks.
Sukuna has to bite his lip to stop the cruel laughter erupting from his mouth. His sadistic nature feeds off the uneasiness the brat feels. The boy is practically brimming with it. Little virgin got himself into a situation much over his head.
Sukuna watches gloatingly as Itadori takes a tentative step into the large room.
It's an impressive bedroom, beautiful and spacious. One wall consists only of floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing a glorious view of the city. The large bed opposite that window wall is opulently decorated with red and black silk pillows. And the wall at the head of the bed is adorned by a large red and white mural of a temple. Sukuna's former residence, in another life, over a thousand years ago.
The brat doesn't know that, of course. He has no clue that the man standing next to him is the King of Curses.
But he is already freaked out enough by being in this room. The room where he thinks he regularly gets fucked by Sukuna.
The brat does his best to hide his fear, though. Always such a hero.
There's a big smile plastered on his face as he turns to Sukuna. But he is a lousy liar. The smile doesn't reach his eyes, and his voice sounds shaky when he exclaims,
"Wow, it looks cool!"
Sukuna grins at him. The brat is so entertaining. Sukuna cannot thank fate enough for giving him this perfect gift.
His gaze follows the boy as Itadori walks over to the window wall gazing out over Tokyo, hands once again resting on the windowpane, pressing against it as if he is trying to break free. As if he is hoping to reach through the glass and escape this beautiful golden cage.
But there is no escape.
Sukuna joins him, stopping next to Itadori and wrapping an arm around his waist. He contemplates what to do next. Should he outright demand that the brat moves into the master bedroom now that he is awake again? Or is it too soon, and he will risk driving him away?
His thoughts get interrupted by the brat's soft voice.
"Do I usually sleep here?"
"Yes."
"Then I want to sleep again here starting tonight."
Sukuna's head turns to look at the boy, caught off guard. Itadori takes the first step to sleep in the same room as him? This is ludicrous! Light blue eyes scan the brat's face curiously.
There's a hard conviction written over Itadori's features, making him look like his typical stubborn self. His hands have let go of the windowpane and are balled into fists at his sides as if hyping himself up to be brave about this.
Fool.
But there's that familiar passion in his golden eyes again when he lifts his head to look at Sukuna and adds in a firm voice,
"It's our bedroom, right? It doesn't matter if I can't remember. This is where I should be, so I will sleep here."
The brat is crazy. Absolutely insane. He is a stupid self-sacrificing hero even now, walking bravely to his own ruin with his head held high. Doing anything to make his "boyfriend" feel happy.
It's so foolish. Itadori woke up in a strange apartment just a few hours ago with no memories and only a stranger's word telling him they are a couple. A sane person would ask more questions, would demand proof, and want to talk to a doctor or the police. But the stupid brat just blindly believes everything Sukuna tells him.
The part of Sukuna that is still used to sharing a body with Itadori wants to shake him for being so trusting, wants to yell at him to stop being such a naive idiot and scold him for being so irresponsible with their shared body.
But they are separate people now. And the boy's stupidity plays perfectly into Sukuna's hands.
He nods, letting a fake but gentle smile lift his lips, his next words chosen carefully to trigger the brat's need to please even more.
"Yes, it's our bedroom. I'm glad you want to keep me company again. I don't like sleeping without you."
He leans closer to hide the cruel smirk spreading over his face, long fingers sprawling possessively over the brat's waist as Sukuna kisses his cheek.
He is euphoric. The plan is already working so well. He didn't even have to do anything. Itadori came to him willingly. The brat is so eager to please, so adamant about playing along and doing anything to make up for his inability to remember their happy relationship.
Let's see how this bravery of yours plays out for you, brat.
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Sukuna is having so much fun, and I am having so much fun too, writing this :) I just feel like Yuuji would try his best to please his "boyfriend" and act like things are fine, even though he is understandably freaked out by his memory loss. Poor baby, but lucky Sukuna ;)
Thank you so much for reading Chapter 3!! I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs make me happy.
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Note
Hi could I please request a Carl Grimes x fem!reader fic. Some angst but mainly fluff
The reader has a lot of anxiety in general but lately she’s been feeling extra anxious and stressed, more than usual, and Carl takes notice of her change in behavior. He decides to do something about it. He later shows up at her house that night and takes her to the lake as a mini surprise date because he knows it’s one of her favorite spots and that she likes being by the water. They lay next to each other staring up at the night sky stargazing and pointing out the different stars. He talks to her and she opens up about her recent anxiety about losing him fearing that she’s not good enough for him. Carl comforts the reader and gives her any reassurance she may need. Carl and the reader are dating so maybe some soft kissing and making out moments at the end with lots of cuddling.
Thank you 🌙✨
A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for the request! It’s not that long it’s more a blurb than anything else, and I also decided to write it from Carl’s point of view. I really do hope you enjoy it though!
Pairing: Carl Grimes x Fem!reader
Setting: Alexandria!
Watch out for the typos y’all.
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I smiled to myself as I managed to light the few amount of candles I found in Alexandria.
I made sure everything was set and positioned in a way that made it look like we were royalty. And I was on the way to serve the queen.
I noticed how (Y/N)’s been acting lately, and that’s not the version I know, so I thought a nice dinner out by the lake would be nice for us both.
Looking out at the sun, I realized the sun was setting and thought it was the perfect time to grab (Y/N).
I walked over to her house, and gently knocked on the door. “(Y/N)? Are you in there?”
No reply, but I heard a bit of shuffling. As if someone was trying to get up off a chair.
The door opens and (Y/N) looks at me with a thousand yard stare, that made a shiver go down my spine.
“Hey, I have something to show you.”
“No.” She said and proceeded to close the door in my face. I’m quick to put my foot in the crack of the door before it shut completely.
“Don’t do this. It’s important.” I said, and she opened the door wider.
With a roll of her eyes and a shrug of her shoulders, she motioned for me to go with her chin. “Fine. Show me.”
I smiled, closing the door for her, before placing a hand on her lower back and led her to the lake.
The sun had almost completely set, by that time, and everyone could see the stars shining through.
“What is this?” She asks and I just stand back and let her explore, the entire set up.
There was a table with 2 plates, and one with the dome to shield the food from being shown just yet.
Some of the candles I lit up had died down. But it was the least of my worries. I just wanted to make sure she was having a good time.
“Carl..”
“Remember when you told this was your favorite spot? I decided for us to have dinner here.” I said even though dinner was a bit of a stretch. Considering that the ‘dinner’ was a couple of granola bars and some fruit.
As she took it all in I could tell her emotions were getting the best of her, and tears started welling up in her eyes. I was quick to grab her hand softly and pull her flush into my chest.
I let her do what she needed, continuing to hold her tight and rubbed her back in a soothing manner.
Once she had calmed down, she wiped her eyes and said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. If you ever need, someone to talk to or just listen, you know I’m here for you.” I replied and she looked like she was going to cry once more.
“I noticed how different you’ve been acting and thought you’d like to have a moment away from the world. By having this dinner with me?”
“Of course, I would love to.” I smile, and pulled her chair out for her, and once she sat down I pushed it in. Then sat in my own chair.
I removed the dome from the food to show her the ‘dinner.’ I even tried to explain why it wasn’t actual food, but she shook her head in understanding.
She reached her hand out and set it atop of mine. “Don’t worry about it. It’s perfect actually.“
We talked about events that happened today whilst eating our dinner. Then decided to lay on the grassy floor and look up at the stars.
“The stars are really pretty tonight.”
I nod, “Well, not as pretty as someone I know, but still a close second.” I replied and she playfully rolled her eyes.
“Hey, Carl?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry, truly. For the way I’ve been acting lately. I’ve just been stressing out and it was just getting to be too much.”
“You don’t have to do tell me anything, you don’t want to. But what’s got you stressed, (Y/N)?”
She sighed and avoided eye contact before speaking, “I don’t.. It’s just…. I’m scared to lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me-.”
“You don’t know that! We can protect ourselves as long as we can, from the walkers. But from the Saviors? They’d kill any one of us in a heartbeat, without thinking twice.”
“I know. None of us know when we’re going to pass on, we just know that it’s going to happen.” I stated. “As much as that pains you, it’s out of our control. But you know what isn’t out of our control?”
“What’s that?”
“This. This right here. Our time together. The world may be ending, but they can’t take this away from us. I won’t let them.” She smiles sadly at me, and I put a hand on her cheek.
“But I can assure you, that I will be careful as I can with the walkers. I’ll even bring my dad along with me, as a second pair of eyes. Okay?” I lean forward to place a kiss to her forehead.
Once I pulled away I looked into her eyes, as corny as it sounds, her eyes really did sparkle in the moonlight.
“I love you, Carl Grimes.”
“I love you too, (Y/N) (L/N).” I smiled, leaning in once more, but this time kissing her lips softly. I placed a hand on her waist and hers around my neck.
I deepened the kiss, really wanting to show her that I truly wanted to spend every waking moment with her. And she did the same, before we both had to pull away from each other.
We smiled, taking in deep breaths. We didn’t have to exchange any words to know that we loved being in each other’s presence. I pulled her close and she rested her head on my chest.
Before I knew it she was sleeping on me, with a smile on her face.
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obey-my-twisted-logic · 11 months
Text
Truth Spilled : Prefect is not the perfect extrovert they're assumed to be - not at all. Idia Shroud x GN!Reader (may be slightly fem leaning, apologies in advance if I missed anything like that)
Synopsis : post book 6, after Idia shows his skills, Prefect decides to take him aside when he seems overwhelmed by the people, leaving Ortho to entertain those who remain. As they reassure and comfort him, the cracks show and the shell reveals a close guarded secret.
Warnings : crying, mental health confessions, ptsd and beyond. Occasional cursing on both ends. Basic proof reading, potentially missed grammatical or spelling errors is higher than you think. Angst is real, but there's some playful fluff in the end. Only platonic in this blurb.
Authors Note : very self indulgent. How I personally have been feeling as the game progresses as someone with severe PTSD and anxiety. Had I been in a dorm, definitely would have been Ignihyde 100%.
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After the impressive amount of prowess and just cocky amount of game play by the usually introverted dorm leader, you decided to rescue him when the nervous sweating kicked in. The initial adrenaline had worn off, and you knew the only reason he hadn't bolted was because Ortho had never looked happier, getting to interact and be normal with a group of friends, and making sure his big brother got to join in the fun.
Big brother was all "fun"d out, and as a good host, and just sympathetic anxiety riddled bean, you take him upstairs with the excuse of needing assistance with some older technology you had been relying on.
After gently steering him up the stairs and to the furthest guest room, you hold on lightly to the sleeve of his jacket to guide him. Nothing too invasive, but still a comfort, despite his initial flinch, he seemed to accept the action and looked almost grateful for the escape.
"Here we are. Furthest back and best insulation, trust me." You say leading him in and closing the door quietly. "Sorry for the white lie, but you looked like you needed the break, so I thought-" immediately your cut short by a nasty look and a huff as he dropped onto the bed and fell back.
"What would you even know about how I feel? What was I not cheerful enough for your liking? Perfect Prefect, of course you'd notice. Why'd you bring attention to it?" Idia snapped giving you a dirty look. Now Ortho would be upset and think he hadn't had any fun.
Sigh escaping your lips you take a seat on the floor and lean against the closed door. Eyes closed you steady your breathing the best that you can. Despite your best, tears streak gently and slowly from each eye. You can hear him shift panicked on the bed, assuming he was sitting upright and staring. You decide to keep your eyes closed, more amused by the expression in your mind and not wanting to embarrass yourself further.
"Idia, I know you're smart, I know you think you know all that there is to know about everything." Slowly you open your eyes, ignoring the tears, allowing yourself this moment. He wanted to know why you did it, why you interfered, well he'd certainly find out today. "You're not near as smart when it comes to any information you think you know about me."
"I grew up in constant survival mode. As soon as I begin to heal from the nightmare my life has been, I'm ripped into a world that I've never known. Most memories have been ripped from me of my old world, and I was dumped here with only my survival instincts keeping me from truly breaking down." You wipe some tears away, just to clear your vision to catch his gaze. He looked guilty and chewed at his lower lip.
"I've been nearly killed by half the damn people I call my "friends" and honestly, I do love them all, but the only reason it's even been possible is my desperation for survival." You laugh coldly and stand, the rant and your breathing becoming more erratic as it all comes tumbling out.
"Perfect Prefect? I don't have any other way to protect myself. Idia I didn't even have a phone until the THIRD overblot. THREE of the most powerful students on this campus had to try killing me for the fool of a headmaster to give me this... technological piece of shit." You toss your phone next to him on the bed. "I may not know much about this world, but I know about technology. It's different but very similar to what I used to work with in my old world..." Catching the surprised look on his pale face you can't help but laugh. "Yes yes, pitiful, magicless human knows how technology works. There's a reason that my grades keep Grimm an honor student, I'm far from stupid."
The crying resumes and laughter is mixed in as you give him a pathetic look. "Even he's attacked me, and Grimm's the closest I even have to a family in this hellscape. Idia I'm so tired." You choked up a sob and sank to your knees, back pressed against the wall now.
Unable to, refusing to look weak, you dry the tears beat you can as you answer his initial question. "What do I know about how you feel or why I interfered?" You let out a low and sad chuckle and look up to him. "Because I so desperately have needed to be saved, to be rescued and taken somewhere quiet so I could breathe that I couldn't just leave you like that. I couldn't just ignore the panic you were in." You let out a sigh and hug you knees unable to stable your breathing as much as you'd like.
"Feel free to leave or stay, do what's best for you. I'm just going to be here." You say after one minute stretches out into several. "I'd appreciate if-" Once again the Idia interrupts you, but in a much more surprising and soft way.
He embraces your trembling form, kneeling to be on the floor with you and just embraces you. He mumbled a genuine and quiet apology, stroking the back of your head. His hair provided a soft and safe warmth and glow.
You look up nearly sobbing again, and question him "Idia, will you be the friend I can be myself with? Will you give me the space to be pathetic and cry my anxiety away?" The sobs came out choked and desperate, pleading for him to be your safe space.
"Of course." He replied gently, never breaking the embrace. He gave the bed a dirty look. "First things first, we're getting you a new phone. Immediately." He grumbled unlocking his own to put in a rushed order. "There's no way you're going to be able to play games with me on that thing." He growled clicking his tongue, distaste for the headmaster evident on his face.
You burst into laughter and hugged him back, burying your face against his neck. You ignored his embarrassed noises, he didn't pull away or push you away, so he must be fine with it. "Sounds good to me." You mumble out, feeling a genuine sense of comfort from someone who finally could understand at least some of what you've been feeling for the entirety of your life.
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limerenze · 2 years
Text
before and after - adrian pucey
[Adrian Pucey  x Fem!Reader]
masterlist
Summary; adrian comforts y/n during + after a panic attack while they both deal with the aftermath of the second wizarding war
Word Count; 2.3k
A/N; this is based on my literal very first request. i was soooo excited to do this!!! i hope i did u justice, anon. i did tweak/add to this a little more- just so i could make it into a whole standalone but also so it could fit my writing style a little more. i do suffer with panic/anxiety attacks myself and they are not fun at all and i didn't want this to romanticize them in any way shape or form… so if you feel i did that- please know it was not my intention at all.
ALSO??? THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK SINCE LIKE JULYYYYY!!! HEYYY MISSED U GUYS!!!
Warnings; angst, fluff, post-war, nightmares, panic attacks, possibly a bad portrayal of panic attacks
Dates Written; January 5, 2023
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It wasn't Adrian’s fault, Y/N knew that. It wasn't fair of her to blame him.
She couldn't help it though. She had done everything she could think of to avoid this happening. 
Everything, short of telling him. If she had just told him, there would be no issue.
So yeah, it wasn't Adrian’s fault. If anything, it was Y/N’s. 
It was Y/N’s fault that she was paralyzed in her bed. It was Y/N’s fault that Adrian was sound asleep next to her. It was her fault that it felt like an anvil had fallen on her chest and no amount of strength in the world could push it off of her. It was all her fault.
At least that's how it felt. That's how it always felt.
It always felt like Y/N’s fault. Which is why it was easier to blame Adrian.
If Adrian had known she felt such things, he would be by her side with complete and total reassurance and praise until she couldn't bare to hear it any longer.
He did everything for her. As guilty as it made her feel, sometimes she forgot he went through it all too. Sometimes she forgot he felt it all too.
He was just, so good at hiding it.
She couldn't stand the stillness of the country? Okay sure, he agreed to move to the city with her.
Their first apartment looked too much like the dormitories at Hogwarts? Totally reasonable, so he agreed to move again. This time to the heart of London, where there wasn't a moment of peace anywhere.
Turns out the city noise was too much? Adrian didn't bat an eye. He laid a loving hand on her back and told her he agreed. Then he spent every waking moment he had perfecting a muffling charm for her. He adjusted it and readjusted it until she could sleep through the night. 
Adrian never complained. Not even once.
Truth be told, Adrian was happy to do it. After all, he had all the same feelings as Y/N. 
Before? Before he had loved the peace that the valley mounds around their little house brought. He loved everything about the country that surrounded them. But after? After, it wasn't peaceful anymore. It was eerie. The air turned stale and he hated it. He couldn't stand it for a second longer.
Adrian wasn't sure he could ever find anything peaceful again. 
Adrian didn't know what peace was anymore.
He was happy to leave the house they once called home. He was happy to rid everything from their life before. 
Before didn't exist to him anymore. 
Dwelling on the before was pointless now that they were in the after.
He was happy to move and move again. He was happy to mutter the imperturbable charm, a charm he perfected in the fourth year- over and over again until the girl he loved could feel a moment of peace, a moment he too strived for.
He remembers the first night the nightmares didn't wake her up. He was exhausted but he wouldn't let himself fall asleep until he heard the birds chirping. He wouldn't let himself sleep until he was sure she was okay. And when he knew she was? He was euphoric.
Adrian was ecstatic to know he helped her with that. 
Y/N knew that.
That's why she couldn't bare to tell him that the nightmares had started again.
She couldn't bare to tell him none of his efforts were working. It would break her heart.
So there she lay, paralyzed. 
Not in a literal sense. She could move if she wanted. Some part of her knew that.
And she did want to. She wanted nothing more than to break out of Adrian’s arms that were lightly draped over her. The rational part of her brain knew he was hardly touching her.
But the rational part of her brain was being eaten by the impending doom she felt. 
Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and her boyfriend’s skin felt like molten lava against hers. 
Y/N’s breaths couldn't keep up with the speed of her heart and it felt like all her airways were being cut off. The harder Y/N tried to take a breath and the more she couldn't- the faster her heart beat.
What was the maximum heartbeat per minute before a person dies again? Y/N had read it somewhere once in some muggle textbook. For a long time, consuming the information from muggle textbooks was the only solitude she had. She couldn't remember. 
It didn't matter, anyways. Whatever the number was, Y/N was sure she was approaching it quickly. To her, it was reasonable to think she would be dead in minutes.
Her breaths were quick and short, they were panicked. She felt like all she needed was one good and deep breath and everything would be okay. But she couldn't take that one breath, and so to her, nothing seemed okay. There was no end in sight.
Her ears were ringing and she didn't know how long she had been laying there. Trying to tell herself to just get up but her own fear kept her trapped on the fleece sheets.
She must've been making noise. Enough noise for Adrian to wake up beside her at least. 
Adrian’s body twisted to face her entirely. He was hovering over her ever so slightly. His hand ghosted over her upper arm and his face was contorted with worry.
Usually, his hand on her body would be comforting- but right now it was the last thing she wanted. She could see with her eyes that his hand barely grazed her but it felt to her like he had the world's strongest death grip on her. 
His hand seethed against her skin and her mouth was too busy trying to breathe to tell him that. Adrian’s mouth was moving but Y/N heard nothing. No words. 
Just ringing.
The ringing was piercing and she couldn't decipher which part of this was the worst.
“Y/N?” Adrian called to his girlfriend. “Y/N, darling. I need you to calm down” He continued but it was no use, Y/N couldn't hear him and she was too panicked to read his lips.
“Shh, love.” He reached over to hold her and it overwhelmed Y/N enough to break out of her terrified-induced daze and push him off. Her hand laid flat on his chest and she used all her force to push him away from her.
The force she had was very little, so Adrian didn't move very far. But he understood what it meant and scooted farther away to give her the space she needed.
All he wanted was for her to feel safe.
Y/N didn't stay in the bed for very long after pushing her boyfriend off of her. She stumbled out of the bed and all but dashed into the bathroom connected to their bedroom and slammed the door shut.
Her heart was still racing and now that she was out of the bed, she could feel where her hair stuck to the back of her neck with sweat. 
The bathroom tiles were cold on her feet and as she slid down the door to sit, the tiles were even colder on her bare legs. The fluorescent lights were a horrible contrast to the darkness that her bedroom held and it burned her eyes but it was the least of her worries.
“Y/N?” His voice was gentle.
She could hear it this time. That was a good sign, right?
“Y/N? Are you alright?” 
‘Dumb question, Adrian’ he scolded himself in his head.
She wanted to tell him yes, but she couldn't find her voice.
“Don't come in” she managed to croak out between gasps for breath. “I’m-” Her voice cracked.
She paused for what could've been a second or an hour- she couldn't tell the difference. “I’m fine, you can go back to sleep”
“I won't leave you alone in there, Y/N” Adrian told her after a short pause himself. “I won't leave you alone”
It was a statement, but Y/N knew he meant it as a promise. Which is why she saw his shadow shuffle and settle and she knew he had taken a seat on the floor on the other side of the door.
She wanted to close her eyes but the darkness frightened her. And if she kept her eyes open, the harsh white light reminded her of all the spells being thrown around her, toward her, from her.
She needed to go where she felt safe. And that wasn't alone in the en suite.
She thought about reaching up and unlocking the door. She thought about whispering Adrian’s name and praying he understood. 
But she couldn't bring herself to.
Guilt and shame washed over her and it was all she could feel.
She wanted Adrian, but did she deserve him?
Adrian sat on the other side of the slab of wood feeling helpless. He had calmed her through a hundred nightmares but never had they escalated to this. He didn't know what to do, or where to start. 
He racked his brain silently, trying to think of anything that would help her. The only noise either of them could hear was Y/N’s failed attempts at steadying her breathing and her small hiccups between her sobs.
“Do you-” He stopped. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe she just needed him to leave her alone.
“Do I what?” she said back, even in distress her voice was gentle and sweet.
“Do you remember when we first moved into the house in the country?” Adrian continued. 
Maybe she just needed something to focus on, other than everything running through her brain. She didn’t answer, but he knew she did. “It was our first time ever living on our own. We said all throughout the sixth and seventh year that we were gonna graduate and find a place together.” Adrian smiled at the memory. 
It was from before, but it seemed when it came to Y/N- there was no before and after. There was just them. 
“We got through seventh year, then our N.E.W.T.S. flew by. We looked at every listing in all of England before we found that place, tucked away in the corner of a muggle newspaper. None of the muggles wanted it, it was too secluded. I reckon the blokes who sold it to us thought we were out of our minds, taking a place like that with the shape it was in. But we didn't care. The minute we stepped foot in it, I could see on your face that you were thinking exactly what I was” Adrian paused again. Giving Y/N the chance to add to his rambling. Her hiccups had stopped, but he could still hear her slightly laboured breathing.
So he continued.
“It was our home. Then school ended and immediately we moved in. Moving the boxes was the easy part. Our trace had been lifted so we just used magic for it all. We had all of our stuff in the house within an hour. It was the unpacking and finding a home for everything that was hard.” 
The two of them recalled that day in their minds. Smiles were etched onto both of their faces, not that either of them could see the other.
Just as Adrian was about to continue, Y/N spoke. “I was too busy looking through the boxes to notice that you had left me alone. I had only been in the house a few times at that point, and it took me a while to find you”
Her voice was music to his ears.
“I searched every room, and of course with my luck- you were in the last one.” Adrian could hear the smile on her face. “You stood in the middle of the empty room, not even any boxes had made their way in there yet. But you stood there, looking out the window.”
Y/N could still see the way the sun beamed onto his skin and the golden walls looked like fire. “I don't know how you knew I was standing behind you, but you did. You said-” 
She was interrupted.
“This is the start of our forever” Adrian’s voice spoke gently, it made Y/N melt and suddenly she couldn't stand to be alone in the bright, cold room anymore.
Y/N pulled away from where she was sure her skin had molded to the floor, she reached up to unlock the door and pull it open. 
And she saw him.
His hair was messy and his eyes were overwhelmed with worry. His old quidditch t-shirt hung loosely on his body and she would've sworn he never looked more beautiful.
“I was right, you know? That was the start, and this is our forever” He told her. 
Adrian just wanted to see his girlfriend smile. And it worked, even if it was a small one.
Her heartbeat had slowed down a significant amount but it still felt foreign in her body- like it didn't belong there. And she was still hyper-aware of her the thin layer of sticky sweat that coated her body. Adrian didn't care.
“Can I-” He stopped to rephrase, “Do you want to be held?” he asked gently. 
The last thing he wanted was to cause her any discomfort. But at that point, he probably needed it more than her.
Y/N nodded her head and all but threw her body forward and crashed against his chest.
His arms wrapped around her firmly and she couldn't for the life of her remember why she would ever want his touch to stop.
His touch was everything.
“Adrian?” Y/N spoke softly, not moving from where her face was buried into him.
“Yes, love?”
“Are we going to be okay?”
Adrian didn't answer for a minute. He wasn't sure he knew how.
Neither of them know how long they stayed like that for. It could've been for the rest of the night before he finally answered her question:
“Yes, love. We are.”
And there it was. Adrian’s moment of peace.
-
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thegingerjedi · 4 years
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Nobody asked, but here’s Aurelia Trevelyan, my latest Inquisitor!!
Anyway, I’m pretty proud of how she turned out! And ugh, Cullen romance hits good.
Oh, and I obvs used some mods: [hair] [Skyhold outfit] [Fancy Attire]
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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years
Text
Awake My Soul • 12
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
WC: 7k
Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Warnings: Lol what ISN'T there a warning for in this one?? Canon level violence. Use of restraints and a collar (of the non-spice variety) Mentions of blood, vomiting, torture, needles, loss of limbs, angst. Chapter takes place in a prison. Col not knowing how to write heist stuff lol :,) And another one of our beloved cliffhangers.
**Meine kleine Puppe - My little doll
Series Masterlist
**There is a playlist for this fic, but linking it here messes up the tags so feel free to check it out in the series masterlist!
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Once you had gathered your supplies, Bucky guided you to the science building.
“There’s a window on the second floor that is close to the wall. We can climb over from there,” Bucky whispered into your ear. 
You wanted to press further, but the two of you froze as you opened the door to the building, noticing the faint amount of light coming from the science lab.
Parker. He was probably pulling another accidental one-nighter.
Bucky took your hand, turning to give you a small reassuring nod, then slowly crept past the lab.
A mixture of nerves and curiosity dared you to sneak a peek, only to find Peter’s back to you, completely lost in whatever project he was working on.
Bucky continued on, leading you to a small room upstairs, where - low and behold - you saw a window that had a perfect view of the top of the brick wall that surrounded the camp.
He jumped up first, reaching out and grabbing the bags from you before taking your hand and pulling you up next to him. 
Then, he rifled through his bag, pulling out the grappling hook he used to use before getting the metal arm, securing it to the structure before climbing down.
You looked over to your left at the watchtower, anxiety pooling in your stomach.
The gang was going to be so pissed at you two. 
They had every right to be. You were going against protocol and stealing valuable resources in the process.
However, when your eyes landed on the soft, amber glow of the alarm system above Clint, a sense of peace washed over your anxious thoughts.
At least they would be okay here. You and Bucky could do the dirty work without putting more of them at risk.
Hopefully. There was also a good chance that this would fail horribly and cause a whole shitstorm of trouble for everyone you cared about and put them into more danger than they had ever experienced before.
Which was impressive, seeing that you had all been living in a zombie apocalypse for five years.
Before your mind could wander through all the ways this could go wrong, you heard the gentle thud of Bucky’s feet landing on the ground below. You followed his lead and were by his side in seconds.
Once you were both safely on the other side, Bucky did some sort of cool, random-yet-intentional maneuver with the rope and suddenly the grappling hook was in his hand.
Just as quickly, it was hitched back up to his side and his hand was grabbing yours, guiding you into the dark woods. 
You knew you were about to hit the invisible perimeter that triggered the watchtower lights, though you had no idea where it was or how you’d be able to locate it so specifically in order to not set it off.
Suddenly, Bucky was slowing you both down, staring in front of you at nothing.
He crouched low to the ground, side stepping under what you could only assume was the border, pulling you along as you followed suit, crouching down and side stepping under the line you couldn’t see.
When you were on the other side and standing straight, Bucky turned to you with a concerned look. “Hope that was the right spot.”
Right when your eyes widened in panic, his mouth curved up into a smile, and you slapped his arm slightly with a scoff, pulling a boyish chuckle from him that made you giddy even under the stressful circumstances.
“Come on, Sweetheart,” Bucky said, pulling you along with a smile still on his face. “Next up, we gotta find ourselves a ride.”
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It was about a day's trip on foot through dense woods until you reached a vast, lush clearing, covered with tall grass and wildflowers.
You let out a small gasp, and Bucky looked over at you with a smile on his face.
“Yeah. It’s pretty nuts isn’t it?”
“Is this where you finally show me that your skin glitters under the sunlight because it’s the skin of a killer?”
Thus, another moment was ‘ruined’ as Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes.
“I’m sorry to once again disappoint, Sweetheart, but I swear I’m not actually a hundreds of years old vampire who’s weirdly obsessed with you.”
You pouted. “You’re not obsessed with me, Beefcake?”
His nostrils flared “I was referring more to the whole vampire thing.”
“So you are obsessed with me?” you said with a smug grin.
He shrugged. “You’re alright.”
You shoved his arm and he laughed, a sound that still continued to make your heart flutter.
He led you through the clearing until you were in the middle, and then he put the fingers of his right hand to his mouth and let out a loud whistle.
You jerked back, no longer used to hearing such a loud sound after years of training yourself be  completely silent at all times. You tried to pull his hand away to get him to stop, but he just shook his head and let out another whistle.
Once he was done alerting the entire world of your presence, he rested a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“It’s fine. The woods surrounding this place conceal any sound. No walkers or runners can hear it unless they were already in the clearing.”
“Then who will hear it?”
He smiled, and when you followed his gaze ahead of you, your breath hitched.
Horses, you counted five, were trotting over to you. All a vast array of different colors and sizes. Was that a fucking Clydesdale in the lead?
A pure white mustang galloped forward, racing toward the two of you at such speed you felt yourself flinch, ready to get out of its path.
But Bucky’s hand on your shoulder squeezed lightly, as if to say it was fine.
Just as the white horse got close enough, they slowed down, walking directly up to Bucky, their head lowered as they let out a soft nicker in greeting.
Bucky smiled, moving to stroke his hand along the horse’s muzzle.
“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed. “Miss me?”
A sound that came out like a disgruntled snort from the horse had you cackling. 
“Oh, she’s sassy. I like her.”
Bucky chuckled, moving along to inspect for any injuries. 
“Sweetheart, say hello to Alpine.”
“Is she my new competition or something, Beefcake?” you asked, moving to mimic Bucky’s gesture of gently running your hand along the mustang’s muzzle. Her eyes blinked slowly in approval and you smiled.
“Well, she had previously been the only girl in my life. But I’m pretty sure her and Charger are a thing,” he pointed over to a brown appaloosa. “So you’ll have to do.”
You met Alpine’s eye. “Has he always been this annoying?”
Her and Bucky let out a simultaneous snort.
A flash of gray caught your eye and you looked over your shoulder to find another horse approaching. This one had a gray, almost bluish coat with a black mane. They walked right over to you, nudging your back with their nose.
You giggled, turning to pat their neck. “Well hey there. And who are you?”
“That’s actually a new one,” Bucky said, standing straight, hands on his hips. “Never seen him around before.” You hovered your hand flat against his mouth and he licked your palm. “And it looked like I might have some new competition,” he added with a huff.
“Oh don’t worry, Buck. You’re still my number one guy.” You wiggled your brows. “For now.”
“Alright, alright, enough flirting already. You’re welcome to take him if you’re comfortable, or I can pick out one of our regulars.”
“Absolutely not.” You smiled over at Bucky, then back at the almost black eyes of the horse by your side. “I’m taking Hades.”
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“What happened that night?” you finally asked two days into your journey. “When Hydra attacked?”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he looked down at Alpine’s mane.
“We used to be based out of a big church, one with a giant sanctuary and dorms for the nuns and shit. Steve and I were on watch that last night when the alarm went off. I went down to inspect and found Ward, and I thought all was fine until suddenly I was on the ground, unconscious. Once I came to, the church was on fire. I went out to save the others but half of them had already been…you know.”
He paused for a few minutes before continuing.
“I found Sarah carrying Carol out of the dorms, and she told me Steve went in to get the boys. They had run upstairs to hide from our attackers - we stupidly hadn’t figured out it was Hydra until you said they had taken Steve. 
“Anyways, they were in a room on the top floor. The building was up in flames, ready to collapse at any second. I was through each room, screaming their names when I heard them crying for help. I ran in to find them huddled in a corner while Steve was trying to fight off this guy. He looked like he had been shot in the stomach, and he was losing the fight. I threw my blade into the guy's neck and Steve used the momentum to push him out the window. But the fucking impact caused the ceiling to collapse, and Steve was trapped. He told me….he told me to take the boys and go, and I didn’t want to leave. I tried to climb through the rubble, but the building started shaking and we knew it was about to collapse and the boys were screaming for help behind me and-”
“Buck,” you said, guiding Hades closer to him so that you could reach for his hand. His jaw began flexing and unflexing as he fought back tears.
“I searched for him for days. Even when we left and were hiding in the fog right outside our new camp, I would sneak out and go back. To find any trace or sign that he was alive. That he had gotten out. But there was no way, not with the damage left behind. It would have been impossible for him to survive that.”
“Which is why you shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this,” you interjected. “From what you’ve told me about him, I know for a fact that Steve wouldn’t want you to be. He made a choice, and that choice allowed you to return AJ and Cass to their mom. And if you had found out he was alive, you would have done the same shit you did days ago where you would try to run in completely unprepared by yourself and gotten you and Steve killed.”
“Geesh, thanks for the pep talk, babe.”
You looked over at him with a guilty expression, only to find him smiling at you.
Your eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” he said. “And maybe I’ve turned more introspective in my old age-” you snorted “-but I can’t stop thinking about the whole cause and effect of this whole shitty situation. Like I said before, if I found out Steve survived the fall he wouldn’t have been taken to Hydra, and he wouldn’t have been there to get you out. And what would that have meant? Hydra would still have hold of a potential cure that we would have no knowledge about, we wouldn’t have access to information about their weapons, their base, the way they operate-”
“You also wouldn’t have met the girl of your dreams…” you added expectantly, giving him a look.
“Well, that goes without saying, Sweetheart.” He winked at you and you gripped Hades’s mane for extra support.
“Well, I’d like you to say it.”
Bucky gave you a soft, adoring smile as he adjusted his weight on Alpine to lean closer.
“If none of that shit happened,” he murmured, and you found yourself gravitating toward him like a magnet, “I wouldn’t have met the girl of my dreams, the best thing to ever happen to me.”
And then he kissed you.
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You waited until nightfall.
3am to be exact. That was the time you knew would be the quietest. The main Hydra leaders were usually asleep by then, leaving the fortress only guarded by a few men.
Bucky was begrudging as you convinced him to allow you to take the lead back to the concrete prison. You literally knew exactly where it was, but he didn’t like the idea of you being in front of  danger while he followed behind.
After a few smacks to the chest and jokingly calling him an anti-feminist, he finally caved, muttering at how stubborn you were as you held a fist in the air in victory. A fist he then immediately grabbed and kissed the knuckles of, which made your stomach fill with butterflies.
So now here you both were, jogging on the pads of your feet down the small hill toward the metal gate surrounding the grounds.
Four watchtowers were posted on the corners of the perimeter, one guard assigned one each at all times, along with two more guards walking along the fence.
There was a two minute window where one of the sides would be clear of ground patrol. 
Two. Minutes.
Not a lot of time.
You had worked with less.
So as soon as the guard walked around the corner to the other side, you and Bucky got to work, making your way to the middle of the gate that was in a blindspot for the watchtower guards.
Bucky gave you a small nod, which you returned as you held up the blaster, turning it on.
A small, blue, glowing light appeared at the tip, pulsating as the heat traveled up and down the weapon, ready to be released in a deadly ray.
Luckily there was no need for blasting in this instance, thanks to a testing session you were a part of with Peter and Bruce.
“I made some slight modifications,” Banner had said. “Instead of this just being a machine to kill, it can be a tool. Adds more efficiency to the product while also helping me feel less guilty about replicating something to take lives when zombies are already doing a good enough job of that.”
You held the blaster to the metal gate, instantly parts of the iron away until there was a human-sized hole for you and Bucky to crawl through.
That took about one minute. The next thirty seconds was spent trying to stand the melted off piece back in place so that it sort of looked like it did before.
Hopefully they would simply miss the new gaps.
Hopefully.
Next, you went to the door located directly across from you, creeping through the shadows as quickly and quietly as possible.
You melted away the door handle, readjusting your hold on the blaster as you stepped back inside your former prison, clutching it to your chest, ready to shoot anyone in your path.
You weren’t going to let them take you again. Not without a fight.
The two of you made your way through the various hallways, bile pooling in your throat the farther you walked in, head growing dizzy, but you stayed alert even as panic tried to take over.
There were a few guards you spotted here and there, and you pressed your backs to the wall as they passed in hopes that they would not see you. Each time they simply walked by, unaware of the intruders that had broken into their impenetrable fortress.
It wasn’t until you passed a familiar hallway, past a sign that read DIRECTOR, that your steps began to slow, fear finally starting to win.
Bucky noticed the falter in your movements and gently squeezed your arm. You turned to him and he kissed your temple in reassurance. For a fraction of a second, you allowed yourself to lean into him, a temporary moment of him completely supporting you, holding you up. Keeping you steady.
You closed your eyes, then continued forward with a steady stride once again.
From the spot you had entered, you knew you were going to have to pass through the testing wing of the building before getting to the cells where Steve most likely was. This was a bit of a setback, because the testing wing was always the most heavily guarded. Hydra’s most precious guinea pigs were kept there, and they didn’t want anything messing with their toys. 
One of the doors in the hallway was open, and you could hear voices of multiple men talking inside.
“I swear, Paulding had her.” You stopped right next to the door as you waited for John Walker to continue, your finger hovering over the trigger of your weapon. “He was able to pick up on her tracks, and said that he’d be back in a week with her. She must have taken him down.”
“Or a fucking zombie did, you idiot.” Your blood ran cold at the new, familiar voice that growled at Walker. One that haunted your nightmares almost every night.
Brock Rumlow. Schmidt’s right hand man. The one assigned to torture you endlessly as he and Zola ran test after test on your body. Slicing your skin to see how long you lasted before passing out, slapping you awake when you finally did to start the process over and over again-
“I just don’t understand why we have to keep going out to search for one chick,” Walker argued. “We have plenty of other…subjects to use for our purposes.”
Brock growled. “This one’s different and you know it. We need her blood if we want to continue our work. Walker, if the next search team comes back with nothing, we’ll have them follow Paulding’s route and see if you were right. And if you’re not, we’ll look somewhere else. We’re not gonna stop until we find her.”
That’s when realization set in, and you heard the faint sound of Bucky taking a sharp inhale of breath as he connected the dots.
They were talking about you.
We’re not gonna stop.
It hit you then how stupid it was for you to be here. How stupid it was for you to think there might ever be a day that you would be free of them. That they might move on and forget about you.
Every part of your body was begging to flee, to run out of here as quickly as possible and never look back.
No, you thought. Not until we get Steve.
Instead of moving away, you slowly, carefully peeked your head into the room where the men were talking, only allowing yourself enough of a glimpse to see how they were situated.
You let out a silent breath of relief when your gaze was met with two backs, their attention on the dart board at the other end of the room.
Turning to Bucky briefly, you cocked your head toward the other end of the hallway, and the two of you walked gingerly past the open door, continuing on.
“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered when he finally felt that the coast was clear.
All you could do was nod, even though that wasn’t the truth.
“Do you want me to go back and kill them all right now? Cause I kinda do.”
You bit back a small smile, shaking your head side to side.
After passing by Brock and the other guys, you started walking by different rooms with names on them. Your steps slowed in horror when you got to the fifth room.
Rogers.
Steve.
He was supposed to be in the cells with other prisoners. Not here. Never here.
Without thinking, without considering your options or obstacles, you grabbed the handle and turned it.
As soon as you stepped inside, you felt a wave of emotion nearly crush you where you stood as every memory of being in one of these rooms flooded your mind. 
The smell.
The tools.
The chair.
The blood.
It was all so overwhelming that it took a few seconds for you to notice the two people standing over the chair. A tall man with short brown hair and angular face, and Dr. Zola.
The chair was facing away from you, but you could see the back of Steve’s blond head peeking over the top of it.
Both of them wore confused expressions, but then the tall man’s face relaxed as he looked at Bucky, a syringe in his hand.
“Barnes,” he said, as if greeting an old friend. “Good to see you, man.”
“You son of a bitch,” Bucky growled, ready to charge, but you whipped your arm out to stop him as soon as the guy reached for a pistol and pointed it to Steve’s head.
This had to be Ward. Former friend of Shield, now threatening to kill the person he used to call a friend.
It had all been a lie. You could tell by the way Ward stared at Bucky with complete hollowness in his eyes, not a single trace of care for the man before him.
The sudden rage you felt was almost enough to quell your dread, but then Zola started to giggle.
“My stars, can it be? Meine kleine Puppe**? She has returned to me at last!” He clapped his hand together in delight.
Bucky hissed, pushing against your arm but remaining in place as Ward pushed the pistol against Steve’s temple.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Ward cooed. “Don’t you fucking dare, Barnes.” He flashed his eyes over to you and grinned. “So, you must be the infamous Y/n. I had always intended on introducing myself while you were being….worked on here a few months back, but then you managed to get out thanks to this prick.” He looked over at Steve - who you now realized hadn’t moved since you walked in - then back at you. “I’m glad I finally have the chance to meet Hydra’s favorite pet.”
Bucky shook his head. “I’m going to kill you.”
Ward shrugged. “You can try, but you know I’m a quick shot, Buck.” Hearing his nickname come from this monster’s mouth brought back your rage. “I’ll make sure Stevie goes down with me. And after I kill you, I’ll make sure to have my fun with your new favorite pet.” He gave you a smug grin and a wink.
This fucking asshole.
“Wanna bet?” you said, twisting your blaster a few inches to the left and pulled the trigger.
And just like that, the gun pressed against Steve’s head - and the hand holding it - was gone.
Not a drop of blood fell from the wound, the heat of the blast cauterizing it instantly.
Ward stared at the now empty space that his appendage now missing from his body, a scream on the tip of his tongue.
You and Bucky wasted no time jumping into action, him running towards Ward and you towards  Zola. 
Zola tried to pull out his own blaster, but you landed a right hook to his face before he could manage to touch the weapon, and the small, surprisingly weak scientist was on the ground unconscious.
Though Ward had just been seriously injured, he still put up a decent fight, him and Bucky grunting almost in unison as they tried to wrestle one another.
A large part of you wanted to help him, you knew that the longer this scene played out the more likely a commotion would start, and time was already not on your side.
You turned to Steve, who lay unconscious before you. There was a strange, metal collar around his neck.
Lowering the blaster to your side, you shook him with your free hand. “Steve, Steve!”
He jerked awake, gasping for air. His eyes narrowed when they met yours, as if he thought he was dreaming.
“It’s me,” you said. “We’re here to get you.” You looked over at Bucky, who had just elbowed Ward in the nose.
“Collar,” Steve finally rasped, looking down at something. His whole body was rigid, as if fighting off some unknown force. “Get..the collar off.”
“How?” you asked, looking for some sort of release button. 
“Zola…key.”
Turning to the passed out scientist on the ground, you noticed a ring of keys falling out of the pocket of his lab coat. You jumped down to retrieve it, fumbling through the different keys.
“Which one?” You held up key after key. From the corner of your eye, you saw that Ward had Bucky in a headlock. You had to hurry.
Steve coughed. “That one,” he responded as a tiny metal key that matched the material of the collar rested between your fingers. He tried to sit forward as much as he could. “It’s…in the back.”
You looked at the back of his neck, finding a small, key-sized hole. As soon as you pushed the key in and turned it to the left, the collar came undone.
Steve let out a massive sigh of relief, eyes closing for a second. 
He looked up at you with a skeptical smile. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
You laughed, tears of relief welling in your eyes as you cut his restraints. “We’re here to rescue you, Steve Rogers.”
His brow furrowed and he stood up from the chair. “We?”
Steve’s eyes followed yours as you turned to Bucky, who was now standing over Ward’s unconscious form, breathing heavily as he stared at Steve.
“Bucky?” Steve breathed out in a perfect mixture of shock and confusion.
Bucky smiled. “Hey, punk.”
Steve’s jaw tightened, his own eyes filling with fresh tears as he ran over to wrap his arms around his childhood friend in a tight hug.
Bucky let out a small, wet sob, returning his best friend’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he cried out. “Had I known you were alive-”
“You would have done a really stupid thing, like try to break me out?” Steve finished, pulling him back.
“Something like that.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
Bucky’s eyes flashed to you and Steve turned around. 
“You?” Steve asked, trying to put the pieces of an impossibly chaotic puzzle together.
You shrugged. “You know how it is in a zombie apocalypse. The world becomes hilariously small and suddenly everyone knows everyone.”
Steve chuckled, nodding once before walking over and pulling you in for your own hug.
From this small moment, this tiny, comforting gesture, you knew instantly why people who follow this guy to the end of the line.
A small, faint murmuring pulled you from the moment, and you all turned to find Zola stirring, moaning in pain.
“We gotta go,” Bucky said, taking your hand.
Steve grabbed the blaster from Zola’s hand, following behind.
It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed the three of you or the fight in the testing room, so you backtracked down the path you and Bucky had gone down to get here, cautiously making your way past guards and any lingering members of Hydra. 
Even when you looked into the room with John and Brock, you once again saw their backs as they continued playing their game and laughing about stupid shit.
Right as you walked by their open door, you finally allowed yourself to believe that you had pulled this whole thing off.
“RUMLOW! WALKER!” Ward’s voice boomed throughout the prison. “SHE’S HERE. Y/N’S IN THE BUILDING WITH ROGERS!”
Nevermind.
The three of you broke into a sprint down the hall as sirens began blaring. A woman appeared suddenly, blocking your path with a gun in her hand. She started shooting, causing you to pivot and turn down a hallway to your left.
“I don’t know the way out from here!” you whisper-yelled.
“Follow me,” Steve called, taking the lead. “I have an idea.”
He steered you down different hallways, shifting his path whenever you were face to face with another guard, until you had finally reached a long corridor. At the end of it was a large, metal door. 
“That’s not the one we came in through!” you yelled, no longer caring about someone potentially hearing you. “I don’t have time to melt off the handle or hinges!”
Steve shook the back of his head at you. “I got it!” He picked up his pace. 
“What the hell are you gonna do Steve? Punch an industrial metal door open?” Bucky yelled from behind you.
Your eyes widened in horror as a chuckle rumbled out of the man in front.
“Steve, are you out of your mind?” you exclaimed. “That’ll kill you-”
Steve slammed into the door, both him and it flying into the air and landing on the ground outside.
What the actual fuck?
You and Bucky ran to help Steve up, which gave the guards posted up at the towers enough time to aim their rifles and start shooting. 
At this point, you didn’t give two shits about subtlety, so rather than carefully melting the individual pieces of metal on the gate, you held up your blaster and shot a massive hole for you to run through.
And then, for good measure, you pointed it at the tower to your right and shot a hole just under the guard, causing the entire top of it to crumble.
With nothing holding you back, the three of you booked it through the gate and outside the prison walls toward Alpine and Hades. 
“Sweetheart, I’ll ride with you,” Bucky said, standing beside Alpine. “Steve can take Alpine.”
“Nah, you both take a horse, I’ll run.”
“Dude, what are you talking-”
“I’ll explain later. It’s better this way so that you don’t wear out the horses. Besides, I’m pretty sure I could outrun them if I really tried.”
“Even if that were true,” you said, shaking your head, “you’d exhaust yourself before the fucking sun came up.”
Steve gave you a small, cocky grin. “Are you kidding?” He started jogging deeper into the woods, turning his head back to you as he yelled, “I could do this all day!”
You and Bucky shared a quick, extremely confused look before scrambling onto the backs of Alpine and Hades, galloping ahead to catch up with Steve.
And as you rode off into what you could only pray would be safety, you heard a blood-curdling scream of someone yelling your name into the night.
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You waited until the sun was high in the sky before slowing down, and that was only for the sake of the horses. Steve looked like he could have lasted a few more hours. Hell, maybe even days.
Bucky couldn’t even wait to get off Alpine’s back before asking him what the fuck was up with his crazy jacked up best friend. 
Steve explained everything, how soon after you had escaped and Hydra lost their most important asset, they started exploring other methods of creating immunity. Instead of focusing on strengthening a subject's blood, they expanded their research toward strengthening the entire body. Tougher skin, faster metabolism, speed, endurance, general immune system. 
“They tested the serum on a few others before me,” Steve said, eyes cast downward in sorrow. “I got injected a few weeks ago. It fucking sucked, and I was unconscious for about a day. When I woke up, I knew immediately that it worked. Everything felt- feels different.”
“Did they…test your immunity?” you asked with a grimace, the bite on your stomach itching.
He shook his head. “They tried, but I was so much stronger than they anticipated that I was able to fight off anyone who tried to hold me down. That’s what that collar around my neck was for.” His jaw clenched. “It had a constant electric current zapping my nervous system. Hurt like hell, and weakened me just enough for their liking. I was supposed to be put in the zombie room today.”
Bucky seethed. “I’m going back to kill them.”
“No you’re not,” you and Steve said in unison, sharing a look afterwards and laughing in a brief moment of ease.
That was five days ago, and now the three of you were settled deep in the forest to rest for the night, Shield only about a day and a half away.
You were so close, and as each day passed without detecting any sign of Hydra at your backs the closer you got, the more you relaxed.
At least, you tried to. Even as Brock’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.
We’re not gonna stop.
No, that wasn’t going to happen. The only agent who had been able to track you to the Bog was Paulding, and he was dead. No one would be able to find you. 
The two of you had done it. You had gotten Steve out and survived. You won.
“I can’t believe we did it,” you breathed out, head resting in the crook of Bucky’s neck.
His arm squeezed around you. “Neither can I if I’m being honest.” He chuckled, the warmth of his breath tickling your forehead.
Steve passed out shortly after you had all gotten settled. That was the thing about the serum, he could be as strong as he needed to for as long as he needed to, but eventually it came with a price. As soon as he was able to sleep, it was almost as if he were in a coma, his whole body shutting down to rest after all the labor it endured.
You and Bucky were tucked in your new normal position, his back against a tree and you resting against him.
“Do you think the gang’s gonna be pissed at us when we get back?” you asked.
“Oh, for sure. But only for a few seconds before they see Steve. Sam might give us a classic dad lecture about not following orders, but I think a larger part of him will be relieved that we didn’t have to endanger anyone else’s lives.”
You nodded. “I’ll admit, if he gives the I’m not mad, just disappointed line I might actually cry.”
Bucky laughed again, turning to kiss your forehead.
“Thank you,” he finally murmured after a few beats, his fingers moving under your chin until you were facing him. His eyelids were heavy from exhaustion, but his irises lit up in earnestness. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that without you. I know a part of it has to do with this nonsense feeling you have about needing to prove your worth - which, once again, is bullshit - but regardless, I’m grateful.”
Your heart swelled. “Honestly Beefcake,” you said, hand resting over his, “even if it weren’t Steve, if it was someone I had never met in my life, I still would have done it. I would do anything for you.”
He smiled. “Same goes for you, Sweetheart.” 
The two of you leaned in until your lips met, bringing a comfort unlike anything either of you had ever felt. A comfort that you knew would never go away no matter how many times you kissed him.
And you were happy to test that theory for the rest of your days.
Once you pulled back, Bucky turned away to let out a giant yawn and you scoffed.
“Really? Has kissing me gotten that boring already?”
His eyes widened. “No, no it’s not that I promise!” You fought back a smile, feigning offense. “I’m just tired from traveling! We haven’t slept!” You stuck out your bottom lip into a pout and he glared. “You’re busting my balls, aren’t you?”
“See, you not immediately picking up on that let’s me know how tired you really are, Beefcake.” You shook your head, pushing against his chest. “Go get some rest. I can cover watch for a few hours.”
“But-”
“No buts, babe, unless you add an extra t.” You winked and he rolled his eyes. “For real, though, we’re so close to camp and haven’t run into any trouble. I don’t think we’ve seen more than, like, four walkers within a hundred feet of us in like two weeks. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit. You can get some solid shut eye and I’ll wake you up and switch once I feel like you’ve rested enough to stop yawning whenever I try and smooch ya.”
He sighed, contemplating your intriguing offer. “Four hours. No more, okay?”
“Five.”
“Four.”
“Four and a half.”
He groaned. “Fine.” He scooted down to the ground, head resting beside your leg. “I don’t even know why I argue with you,” he grumbled, “you’re going to wait five hours anyways and it’s not like I’ll have a say in it.”
You ran your fingers over his hair. “And don’t you forget it, Beefcake.”
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Bucky passed out within minutes of his head hitting the ground, and you spent the next two hours admiring how beautiful he looked as he slept. How relaxed his features were, the way his lips curved up into a tiny smile, the way he snored - even though he denied it every time you brought it up. 
“I’m surprised you haven’t alerted every zombie that exists of our whereabouts, Beefcake.”
There was only one thing stronger than the will to stare at his gorgeous face for the rest of time.
Your stupid bladder.
You walked about twenty feet away to take care of business, still keeping an ear out for anything suspicious.
Total silence.
Such silence, that you almost felt the urge to skip back to your small camp, filled with such relief and something else that felt extremely close to joy, which was amazing considering that up until a few months ago you were sure you would only be able to feel pain and despair for the rest of your lif-
A hand clamped over your mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around your body, immobilizing you. 
You tried to thrash free, but a deep voice growled in your ear.
“If you make one more noise or move one more inch, they’re dead.”
Brock.
Tears rushed to your eyes, your entire body going slack as you looked ten feet ahead of you at the sleeping forms of Bucky and Steve.
And the two figures standing over them, blasters pointed at their heads.
Walker, and a very, one-handed Ward.
“Did you really think we weren’t going to follow you, baby?” Brock cooed into your ear, his mouth brushing up against your skin. You wanted to vomit into his palm. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually thought you were smarter than that.”
So had you, you thought for a moment as the sharp chill of a dagger pressed against your neck.
“Gotta admit, though I was pissed you managed to escape a second time, it was wonderful to see you again. You know who was really glad to hear that you were alive? The boss. He’s heartbroken he missed your heroic little return.”
A tear fell down your cheek. 
“Don’t worry, sweetie, we won’t be here long. Just wanted to send you a message from me and Boss.” He loosened his grip, spinning you around until your face was inches from his.
He knew you wouldn’t try to fight, try to make a sound. There was no way Bucky or Steve could wake up and move fast enough to evade a shot from such close range.
Still, you held your head high, and clenched your jaw to keep it from trembling as you looked Brock in the eye.
“You’re coming back with us. If you don’t, I have an entire team of guys a mile away who will follow me as we trail you on your way home. And then we will destroy your camp and everyone in it. I wasn’t at the last raid with this Shield or whatever, so I’ll make sure this time that no one makes it out.”
You bit back a sob. “I can’t,” you whispered. Bucky and Steve would chase after you as soon as they discovered you were missing. “Besides, even if by some miracle they don’t catch up to you, they’re just going to break into the jail again.”
Brock shook his head. “Actually, funny story about that. We’ve been working on moving to a new location, and seeing that you three destroyed a decent amount of the old, crumbling building, we’ve decided to bump up our move-in date. They’re never going to find you there, sweets.”
No.
No.
“No-”
“If you say no I’ll blow their brains out right fucking now.” There was an edge to his voice now, and he took a deep breath to return to his smug demeanor. “Three days. You have three days to meet us here. If you do, we’ll take you to the new camp and you’ll never have to worry about them getting killed trying to rescue you, because there’s no way they’ll be able to find you.”
A pit formed in your stomach. “How do I know you won’t kill them anyways?”
His brows raised. “You know I’ll definitely kill them if you decide not to.”
You closed your eyes, forcing back more tears. When you opened them, Brock smirked, then nodded his head at Ward and Walker.
Though you didn’t turn your head to look, completely frozen in fear and dread, you knew that they were walking away from Bucky and Steve and toward their leader.
“Three days, sweetie,” Brock said, then leaned forward to kiss your forehead. You flinched, the spot where his lips touched your skin now burning.
You didn’t move as they crept back into the darkness, Walker holding up three fingers at you mockingly.
All you could do was stare at where they had been as you allowed that gnawing feeling to sink in. 
The feeling that this was the beginning of the end of everything for you.
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Chapter 13
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xbennyx · 2 years
Text
¬ ・゚:*♡ ` Though I've closed my eyes, I know who you pretend I am. `
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¬ relationship : zhongli x gn!reader
¬ tags : angst... that's it no comfort just pain.
¬ word count : 1.7k
¬ description :
I saw a concept on TikTok of a Zhongli/Ningguang where the reason Zhongli likes her is because she resembles Quizhong and decided to write a Zhongli/Reader with the same concept.
Also posted this on ao3 and wattpad! so don't panic if you've already seen this <3
Zhongli was the perfect gentleman, everything you could ever want in a partner. He made sure you were comfortable, accustomed to any place he took you to and seemed to always prioritise you. You constantly questioned why he held you in such a high regard, you weren't anything special. You considered yourself quite average... Your bafflement was amplified when you learned of his actual status, the fact he was the Geo Archon, or used to be the Geo Archon at least. Why would an Archon treat you, a normal being, in such a way?
As time progressed, around a year into your relationship. Things seemed to being going smoothly. You slowly let go of your doubts and felt appreciated that such a man would treat you so well. You felt important, attractive, happy. That was till whilst on a date at your usual spot, listening to the tales of Rex Lapis which always amused you that he liked to listen to tales about himself as a pastime, everything was going as usual. Well, until he didn't call you by your name but called you 'Guizhong'. You choked on your tea and looked him in confused betrayal. His wide eyed shock worried you even more, he eventually regained composure and said he got his names muddled due to the tale we were listening to. Credit where its due the tale was about someone called Guizhong. You shook it off and reassured him but you didn't let it go.
One day whilst he was busy with the funeral parlour, Hu Tao had requested he do some obscure advertising again. You took the chance away to do some research on this 'Guizhong' the look in his eyes when he muddled up names seemed more panicked than what he explained it was. He also didn't seem the type to muddle names or lose composure much to do so.
Wanwen Bookhouse had always been a life saver for looking up old pasts about Zhongli, even if some where untrue you enjoyed laying in bed with Zhongli as he corrected all he wrong parts. It was an opportunity to learn more about him and his voice was so soothing it often sent you right to sleep and you always woke up disgruntled that you didn't get to hear much. He always chuckled at your disdain. Your hunt for information on Guizhong gave you a headache, part of you wished you'd actually listened to the tale on that date to at least find a place to start instead of being in a daze whilst looking at Zhongli. Yeah, he still had that effect on you annoyingly.
"Can I help you find what you're looking for?" Jifang's soft voice broke you out of your frustration.
"Ah yes, my apologies for taking so long. I uh wanted to learn more about Guizhong. I heard the name mentioned at a tale last night and wanted to know more but I'm not sure where to start..." You sighed.
Jifang chuckled softly.
"Not to worry, you aren't the only one to come looking about her. Here," She pointed to a shelf mostly about Rex Lapis and you gave her a confused look.
"The one about Rex Lapis's relations and comraderies has things about her. It has a concerning amount of detail about her, sadly Archons sure have no privacy" She chuckled again.
So she was a relation to Zhongli, your anxiety was not quelled as you hoped it would be... it increased and your chest felt tight. Okay let's not get ahead of ourselves maybe she was just family, let's not jump to conclusions you told yourself. Jifang seemed to sense your anxiety, maybe its because your breath caught when she said that and you hadn't breathed out since.
"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Her tone had softened and was no longer amused, you liked Jifang for this, whilst she was impatient she was still sweet and cared for those around her, she was an admirable person. Heaving a breath you shook off her worries and paid for the book, leaving swiftly. Your anxiety never quelled all the way home, mind racing, your inner council in a blazed panic.
Do we really want to know? We could just stay ignorant and not hurt ourselves... you debated internally looking at the book on the table in front of you. You had plenty of time Zhongli usually didn't come back till early morning if Hu Tao asked for something spectacular. You concluded that your curiosity would make you eventually read it in the end.
The explanation started off pretty normal, Guizhong was close with Zhongli, what worried you was the line about how 'they could have easily been mistaken for lovers'. The next part about her was in Rex Lapis's Close Relations: Relationships. You hoped, and prayed it wasn't what you thought it was. Alas your prayers were not heard, you read with tears in your eyes. Guizhong was once Rex Lapis's lover who is long dead. Whilst that was quite relieving in one sense there was a picture of her on the next page. She so closely resembled you, you were shocked, taken aback. Your heart constricted in pain. You connected the dots. This small piece of information made everything fall into place. Why he treated you so well whilst being a past Archon. Why he treat you with such high priority. Why he called you Guizhong by accident that day. He was only with you due the resemblance. To him you weren't Y/N, you were Guizhong. His loyalties didn't lie with you, they lay with her. Your heart constricted with pain. The idea of this amazing man you loved with every cell in your body, not loving you after all felt like your heart had been ripped from your chest. He loved someone else and used you to love them still. This entire year had been a lie, a hoax, a delusion. As the sobs ripped from your chest you felt like an idiot for ever believing someone so high out of your league could ever ever love you.
After the sadness came anger, unbridled agony filtered into petty frustration. You ripped the picture from the book. You'd already paid for it. You didn't care for it. All it brought you was pain. Zhongli should be on his way home now, you knew the route he took. It was early hours of the morning. No one was there to see your tear strewn disarray of a being storm their way down the detour he always took. It all made sense why he took that detour home by the cliffs now. You once questioned why he came home so late, he always said he just liked to reminisce on days of old. You used to take pity at his pained expression when he told you, always trying to comfort him every time he got upset over his long gone friends. Now the image of his face angered you, how dare he use you. Sacrifice your heart just to feel better. You regret ever taking pity. Ever sharing your love. You regret everything.
He saw your figure walking towards him as he heard the sound of footsteps on the leaves atop the cliff, he had a soft smile till he saw your face. His smile quickly faded to concern and anxiety.
"My love? What's wrong?" Voice laced with concern as he held your face. You didn't care for it. It didn't calm you anymore. He was a traitor. An asshole. He used you. You slapped his hands away from your face and shoved the picture roughly into his chest. His surprise was evident, you never acted like this. Never had he seen you angry at him in an entire year.
"I know everything you fucking asshole. How dare you use me? I was an idiot to ever think an Archon would care for a human so much." You spat through gritted teeth.
His eyes widen as he uncrumpled the image, regret and sympathy was the next emotion to trace his face. It infuriated you. This meant you were correct. A small part of you hoped that it wasn't the case and that he'd reassure you. You could go home. Forget this ever happened and live a peacefully ignorant life until you passed away and he moved to the next person who resembled her. Part of you yearned for that life, you were seething with anger but it didn't change the fact that you loved him. Unfortunately, he didn't speak. He just stared at the picture with pained, regretful eyes. A small part of you felt some sympathy for him, but your hurt and betrayal quickly pushed it away.
"I thought maybe I could ignore it, but even though I've closed my eyes, I know who you pretend I am." That was all you could muster, you just wanted to leave. Never ever see him again. You wanted to forget.
He reached for you, regret and sorry painted his face. You felt nothing. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He didn't move. He didn't speak. Even as you stormed away and moved away from Liyue. He didn't come to you, he didn't even try. It was just another not so friendly reminder that he never cared for you, he didn't want to salvage what was left. You took that as your sign, your time had come to leave his life. As everyone would one day. You just left a little earlier, a little more hurt than the rest. He didn't deserve all the comfort he would get from his friends in Liyue, you weren't petty enough to go to them and complain. Reveal his secret. You just wanted to leave and forget this ever happened.
You never saw him again after that day. He was an asshole for what he did and you knew that, but as the anger subsided and the original hurt washed away. It was replaced with a new kind of hurt. You wished you could feel his warm, caring touch even if it was fake. You wished to feel it just one last time.
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reverie-starlight · 3 years
Text
{comfort - K.T.}
Character: Kuroo Tetsurou
Fandom: Haikyuu
Reader: Gender Neutral
Warnings: descriptions of anxiety/an oncoming panic attack, trace amounts of angst (but mostly comfort), coming out to someone, fluff at the end <3
Summary: on the way home from a date, you come out as bisexual to your boyfriend and he is nothing but supportive.
Note: Hi! This is my first post on tumblr, so I’m still trying to get used to formatting things properly, please be patient with me lol. Anyway, I wrote this because there definitely needs to be more comfort surrounding this topic- I’ve read a handful of one-shots like this, but I wanted to add my own contribution. (This was originally posted on my wattpad, so rest assured if you come across it there, it wasn’t reposted w/o permission)
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Breathe. You'll be fine, (Y/n).
The drive back to your place was silent, which normally would have been calming for you, but tonight it only pushed you further into your own head. If Kuroo picked up on your discomfort from the driver's seat, he didn't mention it.
You were grateful for that since it gave you more time to think over how you were going to go about your current situation.
Or maybe it was a bad thing. Maybe he knew something was up.
So far the night had been perfect- he had taken you out for dinner at your favourite fast food place and then to a nearby bookstore. You had stopped in front of a really pretty wall to take some cute pictures and they had turned out perfect.
He told you he loved you for the first time. And you said it back.
Now you were worried that your silence was off-putting to him.
You had said your first I love you's and the car ride home was silent? Did that tell him that you were having doubts? You didn't want him to have doubts. Would he doubt you really meant it if you didn't speak up? If the ride remained silent for the next ten minutes, would he think you only said it so things wouldn't be awkward?
Anxiety bubbled up inside you as you continued to think. You didn't notice that Kuroo was giving you little side glances until he gently nudged you out of your thoughts.
"Hey, you okay? You're being quiet." His voice was calm and steady, which was a stark contrast to your erratic heartbeat.
You managed a single nod in his direction and a small smile.  It'd be fine to hold in a bit longer, wouldn't it? Oh god, why did you want to do this again?
He took a hand off the wheel and placed it over yours. You felt him give you a reassuring squeeze. "You sure? Cause you know you can tell me if anything's bothering you. I love you, I want to be here for you however I can."
Ah, yes. That's why. That's why you wanted to be honest with him and trust him with something you had been keeping close to your heart for a while now. You knew tonight was the right time.
"I love you too." You continued to stare at him for a while as another wave of silence washed over the two of you. This one wasn't as anxiety inducing, even though you hadn't really answered his question.
He continued to drive with your hand in his. It was dark out but you could still see him for the most part in the headlights of the other cars and the street lamps you passed. He looked so content after you said that. So happy to just have that with someone. You hoped he always looked like that with you. You hoped noting changed after tonight.
You don't know when you started crying, but when he looked away from the road for a second to check on you again, you saw his eyes widen. "Oh god, (Y/n/n), what's wrong?"
He looked into the rearview mirror for a second before pulling over on the side of the road. He turned to you fully and pulled you into a hug (which was awkward because of the arm rest between you guys). He ran a hand over your hair in an attempt to quiet your sobbing.
He didn't push you to answer his question, instead opting to wait until you were calm enough to talk again. Only when you finally moved away from him, collected yourself a bit and nodded at him to show you were okay, did he ask you again.
"What's wrong?" His voice was soft and full of concern and his hand never left yours.
You sniffed. "I'm sorry for scaring you, this is all out of nowhere."
He shook his head. "No, it's okay, take your time. Was it something I did tonight? Were you not ready to take that step? I know we can't take it back, but if you're not ready to use it yet, I don't mind waiting until-"
He was cut off by your hand moving up to his arm. "You did everything right. I love you, Tetsurou, I'm glad we took this step, but..." you bit your lip and dropped your gaze.
Were you really about to do this? You thought you were nervous before, but now that you were moments away from sharing your best kept secret with him, those nerves seemed to multiply by a million.
You felt his thumb come up between your eyebrows and smooth the space that was now wrinkled. "I'm listening."
You knew you didn't owe it to him- that you could wait until there were no nerves left whatsoever.
You knew that. And yet...
You wanted to tell him. Part of you wanted to finally get it out. To stop hiding it and share this part of yourself with someone you loved and who loved you back. You knew he wouldn't be disgusted or suddenly hate you- he wasn't that kind of person.
You were just so scared of even the slightest change. You liked how things were now, you didn't want a dynamic change with him, you didn't want a shift, you just wanted it to stay as blissful as it currently was.
You also knew that the nerves might not go away until after you told him. They'd definitely come back the next time you had to do this. To be fair, Kuroo would be the first and only person besides yourself and one other friend of yours to know, so of course there would be nerves. This was a new thing for you.
You took a deep breath. You could do this. It would be fine.
"I love you," your voice came out thick from holding back more tears. "And I want to tell you this because I've never liked hiding things from people I love unless it's absolutely necessary."
He nodded and wiped away a fallen tear.
"This is something that isn't necessary for me to hide from you, but I'm still scared. I'm scared of change and I'm scared of getting hurt. You say that you would never hurt me, Tetsurou, so I'm really trusting you with my heart here."
He grabbed your hand for support and you gulped, nerves once again growing by the second.
"I'm bisexual," the truth jumped out of your mouth before you think things over again.
You clamped your eyes shut. You were relieved you told him, it was a true weight off your shoulders, but now you were worried (though significantly less) about his reaction.
If you had kept your eyes open after blurting it out, you would have seen his eyes widen a bit and then return to normal. As if this news didn't phase him one bit.
The car was silent for a minute before you felt him squeeze your hand. "(Y/n), you know this doesn't change anything between us, right?"
You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was a reassuring smile on his face. When you didn't say anything, he continued to speak.
"I love you, and what that means, my dear, is that I love and appreciate every part of you. This included, okay? Thank you for trusting me enough with it, I can't imagine how difficult it was for you to tell me."
He put his forehead against yours. "This doesn't change the way I think of you, feel about you or see you. You're still (Y/n). I still love you. "
Your heart was so full in that moment.
Everything was the same. He said nothing would change and you truly believed him. He made you feel safe and loved, and that was all you could ask for in this situation. You squeezed his hand back twice, a silent thank you.
He seemed to understand, thankfully, and leaned back into his seat after kissing you on the cheek. "Right, so I think we should head back to your place now. I was promised movie picking rights tonight."
You smiled at him as he winked at you then started driving.
And suddenly everything was as it was before. The content look on his face from earlier didn't waver once, and his hand didn't leave yours. Just two lovers enjoying each other's company, no worries on their minds.
Almost as if nothing had changed, you thought. This was the only response you needed from him. Calming. Reassuring. Safe. It was Kuroo, at the end of the day.
Later, your apartment would be filled with loud laughs and sarcastic remarks. A movie would be playing in the background that neither of you really payed attention to because your conversation was too exciting. Music would be played at 2 am as you slow danced and held each other close.
Just two lovers enjoying each other's company, no worries on their minds any longer.
Yeah, you took in one last deep breath. You'll be fine, (Y/n).
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rosewater-chlxe · 4 years
Text
pumpkin | colby brock
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✖ Summary: While taking a trip to Rosehill Cemetery for one Colby’s videos, you both become a little too distracted to realize the dangers surrounding you. 
✖  genre ; fluff, comfort, the tiniest bit of angst 
✖  warnings ; slight mention of smut, reader w/ anxiety, mention of rituals 
✖ requested - yes | no
anon asked:  Hi love ! I saw that you take requests for colby again and I sent a request a while back asking if you could write one where he and his gf wanted to film a video but they start to make out super randomly and have to film the whole video again and now I am wondering if you could write it ?
a/n: i’m so terribly sorry for the wait; i hope you like it my lovely!! stay hydrated, take care of yourself, n make sure to rest!! ily <3 
✖ masterlist
The setting was quite bizarre for the feelings you felt so deeply and beautifully in your heart; you were completely, utterly mesmerized by the boy standing beside you. You walked in this dark, melancholic place with your fingers intertwined; both his and your hands interlocked. He carried a backpack of filming equipment, drinks, snacks, and band-aids; you carried a separate bag of blankets and pillows. Ghosts and ghouls were rumored to be in this grey, brooding place; even dangerous rituals have taken place here: Rosehill Cemetery. 
“Where do you wanna film the intro? I was thinking next to the Mortuary,” Colby said, “If you’re still comfortable and down for this, that is.” 
“Of course I am!! Maybe a little nervous, but there’s no turning back now,” You replied, feeling a cold chill go down your spine at the thought of anything going wrong. 
“Then the Mortuary it is,” He said with a grin that contained a hint of rebellion and mischief in it. 
As the violet-haired boy filmed the intro to his video, you admired his every feature and each mannerism. The way he talked while swaying his hands and hips; the dimples slightly showing through his cheeks, the motions of his jawline. The angelic, ethereal man that stood before you made you weak to your knees; it was hard to count every breath he took from your lungs. 
You were so in awe that you couldn’t hear the pet names said to get your attention, until finally he said your name. 
“Y/N? You alright?” He questioned with a slight smile, catching your wandering eyes. 
“Perfect.” You replied with a soft smile as he looked you up and down. 
You both ended up heading to the biggest honorary statue nearby, to not only take a thumbnail but also to explore more of the graveyard. As you quietly stumbled down the gravel path with Colby, hand in hand, he made witty comments to the camera whilst paying close attention to your surroundings.  This if the first kind of video of Colby’s that you’ve joined; you’ve always been eager to do something like this, though you know it can get risky and dangerous. That’s exactly why he held it off for so long, he never wanted to put you in any kind of uncomfortable or tense situations. The dyed-haired boy leading you has always been the utmost respectful and kind human being you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 
The amount of pure infatuation and love you held for him came without hesitance or thought; no number could label what you felt, no word could describe what happened in you when you simply glance at him. The electric blue butterflies swarming through your heart and the rosewater in your veins never faded, only growing more and more intense each waking second. Before him, it was as if your world could only be seen in light grey and shades of blue; now everything is built with much higher saturation. 
You knew not of what may happen in the future, but you knew you seen him in every upcoming chapter. 
“Excited?” Colby asked, grinning at you as he looked back at you. 
“Very; and a little scared, not gonna lie,” you replied with a light, friendly laugh. 
“It’ll all be fine, if anything were to happen you know we can just go home,” he reassured you with a sly wink. 
You nodded with a giddy smile, trying your best to look away from him. He could always make you feel like you’re on top of the world even with the smallest of interactions - that absolute bastard. You rolled your eyes as you realized just how much you’ve truly fallen for him. 
You skipped in front of him and stopped him from walking ahead, smirking at him while he looked at you questioningly and suspiciously. 
“What’re you up to, rascal?” He asked, knowing of your mischievous tendencies in the past. 
“Now why do you always assume the worst from me?” you laughed as you started to trace a fingertip along his jawline, then to his neck; you felt him swallow as if he felt nervous, though you knew it wasn’t nervousness making him eager. Soon enough your fingertip made it’s way down to his chest, then to the bottom half of his black button down shirt. You let out a light laugh as you teased, completely removing your hand from his torso entirely. 
Colby scoffed and quickly ran his ring-clad fingers up to your throat, his hand then forming a light grip across your jaw.  
“Wanna think about teasing me again, princess?” He asked with a now lower toned voice. 
You sweetly smiled at his intimidating exterior and leaned in to kiss him, in which he happily obliged. 
You felt his soft, light pink-tinted lips against your own and the rest of your face grew numb. Your body became weak, and your legs tightly squeeze together as you felt the grip on your throat roughen. His tongue darted against your bottom lip, making you let out a sweet, soft sound. Within a few seconds, your hands started wandering beneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt; though as soon as your hand drifted lower, Colby almost immediately pulled away.  
You were snapped out of your lovesick state as his facial features grew concerned; the only thing you seen at the statue you were a few feet away from was the illumination of candlelight and light chanting.
“Down,” He whispered, gently grabbing your shoulder and taking you to crouch with him. He placed a finger over his mouth, creating a silent “sh,” sound as he watched what was happening. 
“Colby,” you whispered, “What’re they doing? Who are they?” you began to panic. 
“Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay, just make sure you stay with me and do as I say,” he calmly whispered while making the softest direct eye contact with you. 
He knew you have always had the worst anxiety and one of his top priorities are making sure that anxiety is calmed; that you’re taken care of. He always tries his best to keep you comfortable in every setting, that became much more evident rather than subtle when you told him about your anxiety. He very much understood what you went through and knew that you could help each other through your anxiety issues. Situations like this was something he never wanted you to experience. 
“Who’s there?” a man in black attire yelled from the statue, looking in your direction. The chanting stopped. 
Colby had a look of shock across his face, then sudden terror as he seen something near the statue that you didn’t; as soon as he gasped, the next thing you knew was running the opposite direction with him. 
“We gotta get the fuck out of here,” Colby loudly spoke right next to you as you ran; he made sure never to let go of your hand. 
“What did you see?” you yelled in response, trying to keep up with him when it came down to every single breath.
Colby didn’t respond, but he glanced back to see six masked silhouettes in the far distance; they did not run, they walked in unison. 
At this point of running for what felt like decades though it had only been an estimated 45 minutes, you could see what looked like the parking lot close ahead. You had tears in your eyes that just wouldn’t drop; your throat felt like it was closing more and more within each passing second. 
You and Colby finally made it to his car and looked back for anyone near you. No one else was to be seen. You jumped in and slammed the door, Colby then locking the car and doing nothing less than booking it. 
He quickly pulled out of the parking lot and started going far faster than he should have. You seen him glance towards you in concern, making sure you were safe. His fingertips tapped on the steering wheel due to anxiousness. 
“Colby, breathe, you’ve got me,” you reassuringly said to him with a small smile, though your voice came out with cracks and whines. 
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, this was such a bad idea,” he said to you in response, placing his right hand on your thigh whilst he continued driving. 
“I’ll be fine as soon as we get home, please just relax for me?” you asked sweetly. 
He nodded, his muscles untensing and his jaw unclenching. 
“What can I do to make this up to you, sweetheart?” he asked, feeling incredibly guilty for the situation he put you in. 
“You have nothing to make up to me love, but if we’re being honest the footage wouldn’t have been used anyway,” you said causing both of you to let out a light laugh, “so we could film another video tonight instead. A more laid-back one? Perhaps making a Halloween cake?” you excitedly smiled. 
“Anything for you, baby,” he sighed with relief, “but we have to watch horror movies tonight and I don’t make the rules, you gotta cuddle me,” Colby demanded. 
“Most definitely, pumpkin,” you replied lovingly.  
- fin. 
1K notes · View notes
corpsedaydream · 4 years
Note
hi i love ur work so much and i had a request! corpse and reader are dating and she isn’t necessarily what fans think his type is. she isn’t really goth and doesn’t watch anime so when she sees corpse talking about e girls and goth girls and all that stuff she feels left out and like she isn’t who he wants to be with, and when he’s streaming with her (she’s also a youtuber), he’s like talking about an anime show and reader feels left out and the whole live chat is just saying how she doesn’t belong there and that corpse could do so much better ect. so she has a breakdown in the bathroom and he reads the comments about her and gets upset and defends her which ends with him cuddling the fuck out of her and kissing away her tears idk just angst with a fluffy ending please i’m desperate 😔✌️💗
ooooooooooof i put myself in all the feels writing this and now i’m meant to just go to sleep like i’m not feeling some type of way smh
but!!!!!!!! i like how it turned out hehe, hope u enjoy
word count: 1.5k
_________________________
beach baby
Your freckles were a lot more prominent lately, but that was always something that happened during this time of year when summer was quickly approaching. As much as you felt a little insecure by the the little marks that were dotted all over your body, it came hand in hand with the excitement of being able to do all of your favourite things that just felt better to do in summer.
You were a beach baby through and through. Growing up, you lived in the one house your whole life that was right by the beach and when your family went on holidays, it was always to a holiday house that was by another beach. You could swim before you could walk or talk. When you did learn how to walk, your parents realised they had to keep an extra close eye on you at the beach because you’d always run down to the waves, not realising the danger in your toddler years. When you watched The Little Mermaid for the first time, you begged your mother to turn you into a mermaid so you could live a life under the sea. When you were a kid getting picked up from school, your after school activity was going to the beach. Whenever the school swimming carnival rolled around, it was always you who got nominated to do the races. When you were a dramatic teenager and found out the boy you liked kissed someone else, you went to the beach and wrote his name in the sand just to watch it get washed away by the sea.
Your life had always involved the beach and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Whenever the idea of falling in love with someone popped into your mind, you always thought it would happen with the beach involved in some way. And there had been a few surfer boys you’d had flings with, but none stuck. They never really made an impact on you.
But Corpse had.
The two of you were an unlikely pairing, the absolute definition of opposites attract, but it worked.
You’d met at a mutual friends house by chance and there was an undeniable spark from that very first moment.
-
“Sitting under the moon is a lot better than the sun.” The two of you had found yourselves in a light hearted argument that very first night. After getting introduced and realising there was a pull between you both, he had eventually grabbed your hand and brought you to come sit up on the rooftop with him.
“What? No way, dude.” You shook your head and laughed, he was everything you weren’t but all you wanted. “The moon is so pretty,” You agreed with him, “but the sun makes you warm and it’s so pretty when the sky is all blue with a couple of cute, white fluffy clouds. That’s the perfect weather to be out and about.”
“If you like going out and about.”
“You don’t like going outside?”
“Nah,” Corpse hesitated, contemplating on how honest he should be with the girl he’d just met but was feeling so comfortable around. “I can’t handle the world sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. If someone came up to me and said you can spend your whole life under water as a mermaid but never be able to come back on land, I’d seriously consider.”
“Even after meeting me?” The tone shifted back to the playful flirting and you were grateful for it.
“Shut up and admire your moon.”
“I will, after all, the night sky is far superior.” He was holding firm in his opinion.
“I think it’s all really pretty.” You said honestly, and it was the truth. You were just as hypnotised by a moonlit sky with stars sparkling as you were with a daytime sky.
“I think you’re really pretty.”
He’d had your heart from that moment.
-
You’d actually gone to the beach today and spent a solid few hours there with friends and it had put you in such a blissful state. Making the drive to your boyfriends place so enjoyable, because you were also very excited to see him.
He’d left the door unlocked when you messaged him saying you were on your way. So when you arrived you let yourself in, shutting and locking the front door behind you, knowing Corpse was streaming and you were going to join him.
“Hi.” You whispered, opening the door to his office, not knowing if you should let your presence be known to stream yet. You always felt a little nervous when it came to his fans. The first time you joined him in a stream, all you could concentrate on was the amount of messages that stated how you were exactly wrong for Corpse. How you were the opposite to who he should be with. From there, it only progressed. You saw the hate comments and negative things that some of them had to say about you and it hurt.
“She’s here!” Corpse announced, so at least it was known to them that you would be joining him at some point, they had some warning and you hoped it meant you would receive a warmer welcome. “Hey, baby, get over here.” He opened his arms and you sat down on his lap, greeting him with a kiss before you both brought your attention back to his stream.
“Hi guys!” You greeted the stream, cautiously looking over the influx of messages, waiting for something negative but it seemed they were asking you about something. “I can see you guys asking, but I don’t really know what you’re talking about...” You trailed off before looking at Corpse. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh...” He started, “we were talking about an anime. (Y/N) isn’t really into anime, guys.” He laughed and you smiled but you could feel the anxiety start to build, you just knew this was going to cause a wave of hate to you.
“Hey, I loved Sailor Moon and Pokemon when I was a kid.” You attempted to make a joke, thinking it would gain approval of his fans but it only caused them to react worse.
The chat started moving faster, messages of,
‘LMAO of course she doesn’t know what we’re talking about’
‘Did she really just say Pokemon? She’s fucking basic’
‘What a fucking dumbass’
‘Dump her ass Corpse’
‘Ugh why the fuck did she come?’
‘WE DONT WANT YOU HERE’
‘Fuck off (Y/N)’
‘Corpse you can do so much better’
You could feel the tears welling up, each comment being another jab and you knew you had to leave or you would cry right there and they’d all hear just how they had gotten to you. Quickly, you got up, ignoring Corpse calling after you and trying to reach for you to bring you back to him.
Making your way to the bathroom, you washed your face in an attempt to calm yourself but it didn’t work at all. So instead, you sunk to the floor and let yourself cry. You couldn’t understand why they hated you, you loved him so much for exactly who he was, just as they did. Couldn’t they be happy if who he was with made him happy? Negative thoughts were swirling your mind. They were getting to you.
“(Y/N)?” Corpse cracked the door open, his face full of worry as he stepped inside the bathroom. “Oh, baby, hey, hey,” He was by your side in a moment, his hands finding your sun kissed cheeks as he left a kiss against your head before finding your vision. “I saw what they were saying. They’re wrong.”
“But what if they’re not, Corpse?” You couldn’t help but to argue back. “You deserve someone better for you.”
“Stop it, stop right now.”
“No, I mean, look at us... We’re complete opposites.”
“And so?” He responded. “Do you love me?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“That’s all that matters.” He told you, and you knew he was right, it was just the hate comments were really playing on your mind.
“Is it, though? Don’t you want someone else?”
“No. Fuck no.” He wrapped his arms around you then, he knew you really needed reassurance right now and he was going to give it to you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby. My beach baby, I only want you.” He told you, bringing you onto his lap once more, only now you were on the bathroom floor. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, needing to be close to him.
“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was barely audible when you’d whispered that but he heard it and it crushed his heart to know it was his audience that had made you feel this way.
“I won’t, ever.” He assured you, he was cradling you with a force now, ever so slightly rocking the two of you back and forth. “You don’t ever have to ask me that, I’m not going anywhere.”
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soulmate-game · 4 years
Text
Useful Part 2
fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation. 
—* — * — * —* —* 
“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore. 
But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now. 
“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her. 
“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big. 
But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support. 
It really cemented just how far he had come. 
So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation. 
“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning. 
“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”
Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself. 
They watched as Marinette shook her head. 
“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.” 
It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.” 
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled. 
“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”
“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.” 
“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.” 
Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises. 
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.” 
“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!” 
Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.” 
Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop. 
Marinette gulped. 
But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her. 
A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up. 
Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration. 
But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded. 
“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face. 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.” 
Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?” 
“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.” 
Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades. 
“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly. 
“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.” 
She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!” 
To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee. 
“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?” 
“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.” 
“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender. 
“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.” 
“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart. 
Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it. 
“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?” 
Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time. 
“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.” 
—*—*—*—*—*
It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack. 
“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it. 
So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually. 
“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.” 
Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath. 
Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?” 
That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him,  but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.” 
“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.
But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him. 
“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her. 
“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”
“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll. 
“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.” 
Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.” 
Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her. 
She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.  
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stutterfly · 4 years
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Love Bytes 09 |  Trivia: 01001100 | KNJ (M)
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Last time on Love Bytes 08: After a night that left your head spinning, your best friend confessed his feelings for you. Now that you’ve admitted the same, everything is different.... but is it?
Rating: M (Explicit 18+)
Word Count: 17K
Series: Love Bytes (9/9)
Genre: Friends to lovers, IDIOTS to LOVERS, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, angst, pining, sexual tension, SMUT, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader
CW& Other Tags: corny humor, nipple play, an absurd amount of kissing, dirty talk, grinding, fingering, hair pulling, sexual instruction, let’s play just the tip, cunnilingus, blowjob, protected sex, sexual roleplay, unprotected sex, adoring boyfriendJoonie, suave Joonie, supportive friendships, love talk, dorks in love
Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7
Posted January 2021 by stutterfly & cross-posted to ao3. Do not repost.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You’ve crossed the line you’ve been so afraid of only to discover there really isn’t anything to fear at all. Namjoon has already made you a totally non-burnt breakfast and told you about the success of his student following the release of the poetry program. When he brings up the poem he wrote as an example, you beg him to read it for you.
He apologizes again for that day when you clicked on the document containing the draft, with dozens and dozens of half-thoughts and scribbled words placed within. He wasn't ready to show you then. He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You look over his shoulder as he clicks a vaguely familiar document labeled: Trivia_L_Final. Unable to sate your curiosity, your eyes scan through the first few lines but he quickly flips the screen down.
“Patience."
"Ugh," you complain. "But you said I could see."
"I said I was gonna share," he clarifies with a snort. "That doesn't mean I want your speed-reading ass going through it at lightspeed without understanding any of it."
"Fair." You cross your arms but stare at him expectantly, trying your best to be patient.
“Is this love?”
He pauses to spare a glance up from the screen and freezes when his eyes meet yours. Even after everything you’ve shared he still finds himself sweating through the thin tank top he’s put on. Although he’s sure he’s masked his apprehension behind a wall of stone, all it takes is your soft, reassuring smile to break through. A wave of serenity quickly douses the anxiety. It crashes against his wall, and erodes its harsh edges until all that’s left is a familiar longing to kiss your lips.
“Is this love?” he repeats with emphasis. “Sometimes I know. Sometimes I don’t.”
He can’t stop grinning at the way your smitten gaze matches his own. It’s a difficult decision, but ultimately he chooses to ignore the urge to pull you in for the hundredth kiss of the morning and continues on instead. You sit and listen, hanging on every word you know was painstakingly thought out and written for you.
You're my person. You're my desire. You're my pride.
You're my love. One and only love.
The closing words are left echoing in your head. It’s so easy for you to forget that Namjoon is as smart as he is. Right now you feel too stupid to respond. Nothing can possibly match the perfection of his poem.
“Please say something.” He quickly closes his laptop and sets it aside. “Actually, wait, don't. It was too much wasn’t it?” He reaches over and places a large palm over your forehead and begins lightly rubbing. “Delete it from your brain.”
A laugh bubbles from your throat. “What are you doing?”
“Wiping your hard drive.”
His response has you cackling. Did he really just make such a lame joke all on his own? You grab his wrist and pull him close while a big cheesy grin graces your features. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
He groans as he leans in and pauses before kissing you. “You are.”
His hand gently cups the back of your neck as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. You lose yourself to the rhythm of your tongues rolling across one another, hungry to keep tasting and feeling. It takes every ounce of self control you have to pull away long enough to breathe out a compliment.
“You’re incredible. Your poem is so good.”
“I had a good muse.” He smiles and moves in for another kiss but you press a finger to his lips.
“I mean it. I love what you wrote. I don’t think anyone’s ever written anything so beautiful with me in mind.”
To spare himself from the embarrassment tingling in his belly, he presses his lips to the pad of your finger with a few light, teasing kisses before moving to repeat the motion against your neck. Goosebumps immediately prickle at your flesh and you can’t help the way your hands travel along the warmth of his body, seeking to consume his heat to assuage the chill in yours.
“You make it easy,” he mumbles, kissing a line up to your ear.
“Do I? I thought I made it harder.” Your smile grows impossibly bigger as you reach down to palm him through his basketball shorts and find exactly what you’d been hoping to.
A breathy sigh warms the shell of your ear. “Fuck. You know you do.” He drags the lobe through his teeth and exhales another sigh at the way you tease his shaft. “Wanna practice?”
He whispers the words against your ear like they’re some secret he’s almost too shy to reveal and you deliver your response with equal timidity. “Please?”
Warm fingers press into the skin at your stomach and travel upward. The action disregards the flimsy white fabric of your borrowed shirt, which slides up with the rising of his arm. You think he's about to cup your breast when he suddenly changes direction and slides his fingers around your ribs to tickle you.
"Na-Namjoon!"
You're a little offended that he would do you dirty like this when you basically just begged him to fuck you for the second time today. But, if you're being honest you're also incredibly grateful. He knows how to take the nerves out of everything with such ease that you almost forget how new this aspect of your relationship is.
You grab at his hand, effectively pulling him down into a kiss brimming with laughter between the pair of you. When you try to retaliate he grabs your wrists to keep your cold fingers at bay. As his tongue dips into your mouth again, he slowly guides your hands above your head. You shift beneath him, spreading your legs so he can slot a knee between them and get even closer. It feels like it's always been this way. Nothing's going to change. This is just you guys. It's always been you guys.
At the heart of your friendship, it's always been about you being dorks together and having each other's backs. You'd never considered the possibility of adding even more physicality to it before but now you don't want to imagine life without it because it feels so fucking good. It feels so fucking right.
Instead of bearing his weight down on you, he drags your bottom lip through his teeth and lets it snap back. He hums a satisfied sound as he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. Your head feels light and for a moment it feels like you might float away, but his arms are strong and they ground you in a tight embrace. He begins walking you backwards and peppers your neck with light kisses.
“Trying to get me back into your bed, huh?” you tease.
He brushes his nose against your neck and inhales deeply, taking in your scent before expelling an airy, audible sigh. “Ah… You see right through me. I mean we could do it on the couch if you prefer. I just thought it might be a little more comfortable, you know, somewhere where I can lay you down so you don’t get a leg cramp or anything.”
You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “How considerate.”
“Yeah, you know, ‘cause I plan on being between your legs as long as it takes.”
“Oh?” You feign ignorance. As he spins you towards him you’re glad he’s holding you steady because it feels like you’re about to faint. “As long as it takes for what?”
The tone of his voice drops low as he leans against your ear. “To make you cum.”
You stiffen in his embrace, frozen by interwoven fears of inability and inadequacy.
“Is that okay?” he asks, guiding your stiff form towards the bed.
The large, borrowed t-shirt bunches up around your thighs as you sit on the edge. It seems like every few days he’s telling himself he’s never seen you look so beautiful. Maybe you’re really to blame for the increased frequency. Now you’re looking at him in a similar light to the way he’s always seen you, and it’s added a new layer to everything.
“Yeah.” You nod, pausing to chew on your lip. “Just… don’t expect too much, okay?”
“Hey, no pressure. I promise. I just want to make you feel good.”
You pull him into a kiss before wiggling backwards up the bed. He follows your lead, slotting a knee between your legs as he climbs over you in an attempt to chase your lips.
“You do make me feel good. All the time.”
He assails your neck with kisses until he’s hovering above your lips. “Really good, though. Like right now. Right here.”
He takes a moment to meet your eyes as he ghosts his fingertips over your stomach, traveling down towards your mound. Almost as if he second guesses himself he stops and moves his hand back up to rest just above your navel.
“Can I try again?”
An embarrassed smile creeps across your face. “You really want to, huh?”
“Of course.” He pauses and his voice drops to a low whisper. “Will you show me how you like it?”
Your palms slide up your cheeks until your fingers cover your eyes. You purse your lips and try to keep your brain from short-circuiting. “Joooon.”
“What?” He shakes his head and offers a small laugh. “Why are you so shy now?”
“Because,” you murmur.
“Because...?” he prods when you leave the explanation unsaid.
“I’m embarrassed.” The words tumble out in a whisper but he seems to catch them regardless.
Hot, sweaty palms encircle your wrists and push them aside. It doesn’t take much effort to separate your hands from your face and when he does he slides his hands up to meet yours. In perfect sync, the pair of you weave your fingers together like you have a thousand times before.
The truth is that you want him. You want him so badly that your cheeks are on fire and all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. Despite seeing his mouth in motion, every nerve ending in your body is preparing for his touch. Anticipation overrides every other command in the forefront of your mind as your knuckles press into the pillows beside your head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Your body is perfect. I could spend all day exploring it, exploring you. I wanna learn what feels good for you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you cum.”
In a stupor you blink slowly and gape at him in wonder, offering a tiny wordless nod. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to instruct him with much success. It’s not like you’re a teacher in any sense of the word and it’s definitely not something you’ve ever tried to talk through with a partner. But his eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light and the sight floods you with the determination to try, even if you don’t know how to begin.
Luckily Namjoon has an idea to assist with comfortability. He carefully positions himself beside you and runs his fingers down your chest, basking in the sight of your areola, which are perfectly visible through the faded fabric.
“You look so hot in my shirt.”
Your ears flush with heat at the compliment. Massaging light circles around the nipple he’s chosen to tease, he watches in wonder as it grows rigid. He experiments, alternating featherlight touches with a tiny pinch between his fingers.
“Do you like this?”
Words seem to escape you at the moment so you nod and mirror his actions on your other nipple. The barrier between his fingers frustrates your growing desire for skin on skin contact. You slowly hike up the shirt past your stomach to expose your breast. His eyes widen and guiltily dart away.
You pull the shirt back down abruptly and sit up with hot embers of embarrassment heating your cheeks. Maybe he's having second thoughts now that he's seeing you up close again. Before your mind can spiral too far he places his hand over yours.
"Sorry. It's not that. I just— Promise me you won't ask me to forget? I want to remember how you look, how you feel, how you taste.”
Relief cools the fire in your face and you half-heartedly chuckle as you climb over his lap. Cupping the side of his face, he Instinctively he leans into your touch.
"Joonie, I don’t think I could ever do that now. There's not a single restore point we could go back to, and I don't want there to be. I never want to pretend like I don't love you with my whole heart ever again. Because the moment you kissed me it's like this weight lifted from my shoulders. Everything I'd been locking away in my heart finally broke free. And it felt… incredible. It felt right. There's not a doubt in my mind. You're my person. You're my light. You're my pride."
"My one and only love," he adds with a kiss to your palm.
You smile and nod, pushing down the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes with a joke. "Are you gonna change your mind now?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiles at you softly, watching you struggle to regain your composure as you sit back on his abdomen.
"Good. 'Cause it's like a totally binding thing now."
"Oh, okay," he laughs and lifts himself with his elbows to get a better look at you. "You gonna type up those terms and conditions for me? I'll sign, Geeksquad. Get me those papers."
"Yeah, yeah. Let me write a draft right now.” You press him back against the bed and lean over his chest, splaying your fingers out for a moment before pretending they're tapping away at a keyboard.
"Under this agreement, I, Y/N, agree to the following conditions..."
"God, you're a dork."
"We have fun. We have lots of…" you stop to giggle and wiggle your eyebrows, "you know, sex when we both want it."
He rolls his eyes but he's smiling so big his cheeks hurt. "You're so corny and I'm here for it."
"And…" you pause and meet his eyes as you fake-type the next condition. "We don't ever feel bad about loving each other. I'm in love with you and I don't want to waste another minute of my life acting like I feel any other way."
He looks down at his chest. Your fingers have stopped moving. "Is all that going in the, uh, love contract? It's a binding thing, you know."
"Yes, yes," you agree, pretending to catch up on typing. "If something doesn't work, we will talk about it. Deal?"
He doesn’t even stop to think about it before he answers, looking down at your fingers like they'll show him an invisible dotted line. "Okay where do I sign?”
"See I'm typing on your heart because that's how this works. So..."
You bite your lip and lift your shirt over your head, watching his eyes struggle to stay focused on your face. You really don't deserve him.
"You type and sign right here." Your fingers lure his gaze down to the valley between your breasts and then slightly to the left. "Right on my heart.”
He ghosts his fingers over the area you’ve pointed to and licks his lips, trying to hide his smirk. “Actually your heart is a little bit lower and a little bit…” He massages his fingers against your breast. “Here.”
“Hmm. Educational and strategic. What a combo.”
"Do I gotta type the whole thing up before I sign?"
You roll your eyes. "Depends. You gonna type as shitty as you usually do?"
He tongues his cheek as he starts tapping away at your breast with his two pointer fingers. It’s too true to reality. “Under this agreement I, Kim Namjoon--”
“Nevermind this is taking too long,” you complain, wiggling over his lap. He quickly drums his fingers over your chest. “--Agree to everything you just said. Signed... Namjoon...” His fingertips trace his name along your breast. “It’s a deal.”
“Okay, okay.” You laugh and reciprocate. “If you break it I'll probably cry and Jennie will beat you up."
“Like I would ever…” he mumbles.
With a rut of his hips he cups your breasts in his hands and resumes gently working his fingers over your nipples. Following the slow rhythm he sets, you grind yourself down and thumb at the band to his basketball shorts, pulling them down just enough to reveal that sliver of dark hair leading below. A loud groan escapes with his breath. His heart aches to feel you against him again, without barriers.
He sits up and heaves his shirt over his head with reckless abandon. His arms are immediately wrapping around your waist, fingernails digging into the skin of your back with the hope feeling your body can assuage the ache in his chest. The heat of his mouth envelops your nipple before you can comment on his earnest behavior and you whimper instead. His rough embrace draws you closer, and his sinful tongue batters your nipple as you loop an arm around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair.
The suction of his mouth makes you throw your head back. “Fuck, Joon.”
He moans and skims his lips across your chest to show your other breast love. Despite his adoration for the current position of his face, it’s not enough. Greed overtakes him. He holds you tight and musters the strength to flip you onto your back. The tiny squeal you make in response makes his dick twitch. You make such wonderful sounds.
As you draw him into a kiss, the barrier of silky basketball shorts do nothing to conceal his hardness. It makes you crazy. You want to feel his dick glide against your folds again. When you raise your hips to grind your clit against him he meets your motion with equal enthusiasm.
“Take them off,” you mumble. “Put it in me, Namjoon. Please.”
It’s hard to say no when every fantastical thought about you he’s ever had is now coming to fruition. How long has he yearned to hear those words? He thinks of earlier. He thinks of the disappointment he holds for his own performance, how he squandered his opportunity to make you feel the way you deserve.
“But I wanna go down on you,” he insists, slowly making his way down your torso. He plants deep kisses as he goes, working a trail of tiny dark marks into the surface of your skin.
“Joon…”  Your fingers claw at his back as he descends.
“Show me how you like it. I’m a good student. I promise.”
The ever present flames in your chest burn hotter, searing a path to your cheeks. He kisses along your hip and pauses to inspect the bruise from your earlier slip. He carefully creeps past it, and instead focuses on the skin of your inner thigh. Taking your hand in his, he positions it over your cunt. He rests his cheek against your thigh to watch the way your fingers settle in place.
“Are you gonna be looking at me like that the entire time?” You laugh, covering as much of your sex as you can with your hand.
“I’m a quick learner,” he assures you. “Plus…” He leans in and laps at the glistening slick in the space between your fingers. “I could taste you all day.”
“It’s after noon,” you mumble, drawing your fingers away to allow him greater access to your folds.
“Mmm,” he hums against you, letting his tongue explore every crevice of your labia. “You want me to keep going?”
Your head falls back against the pillow and you lift your hips with a whimper. “Yes.”
“How?”
Pulling his mouth back just enough to allow your finger to creep back into place, he offers a blissful sigh as you work light circles against your clit. He places a finger over yours and follows the movement, listening to your quiet breathing. He cocks his head to the side and repositions, sliding his finger beneath yours to take control.
“Like this, baby?”
It’s been so long. You’d forgotten just how good it feels to have someone else touch you, to not have to put the work in yourself to attain the reward. It feels so good. Maybe you will be able to let go.
“A little more pressure.”
You guide him again by pressing down over his finger and moving him towards the peak of your clit. He immediately gives in to the change of pace. After a little while he finds his own rhythm and you move your fingers to the back of his head where you tangle them in his hair.
“Yes, like that.”
Confident in his ability to hit that spot again, he glides his fingers down to tease your entrance and brings his lips to your clit. Your entire core tingles as he presses down and creates suction around the tiny bud. As your hips lift in ecstasy he wraps an arm around your thigh and slips two fingers into your slick cunt. Much to his delight you moan in tandem with your desperate exhale.
A proud grin spreads his lips apart and he does his best to hide it by battering his tongue over your clit instead. How many fantasies has he indulged in? How is it that they all pale in comparison to your true taste and sounds? Determined to keep himself on task, he focuses on the spot you seemed to favor and presses his lips back down while rolling his tongue along you. His fingers curl up and search for the promised sweet spot within your cunt.
You tense and clench around his fingers, body desperate to draw him deeper, to take more of him inside of you in any way that you can. Then you feel it: the unmistakable pleasurable pressure steadily rising within. You don’t want to let it slip away this time. With the pads of his fingers pressing as close to your g-spot as he can, the area of your clit you need him to hit with his tongue seems to shift.
Palms shaking, you pull on Namjoon’s hair to guide him to your newest point of pleasure. “Right there. Right there.”
He moans and expels shaky breaths through his nose. Immediately feeling guilty for being rough, you soften your grip and lovingly smooth back his hair. Disheveled, sweat-slicked strands fall against his forehead, rebelling against your touch.
“Sorry,” you mumble, cradling the sides of his face, trying to draw him up from his position. “Did I hurt you?”
He doesn’t budge. Dark brown eyes flicker upwards. The electric tingle in your heart steals your breath as you’re caught in his lurid gaze. He digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and the energy contained in your chest bursts. Shockwaves of internal chills scatter throughout your body.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he whispers. “Pull me however you want, baby.”
His voice is so low and soft that it barely registers to your ears. Your brain doesn’t have time to process the words before he drags his nose over your clit and sucks on your labia. You gasp out his name as he moves back to tongue your clit. He keeps his eyes on you as he plunges his fingers into you with a renewed sense of urgency, desperate to make you say it again. It doesn’t take long for a stuttered verse of his name to sputter from your pretty lips.
Another shockwave of excitement pulses through your gut. He makes it so easy to lose yourself in the pleasure he offers. Any shame and anxiety falls to the wayside, making way for your impending orgasm. You gasp out a pitiful sound and grind your pelvis towards his soft, plush lips to create even more pressure where you need it most. There’s no doubt he feels the way you clench around his fingers and because he reaches as far as he can in search of your g-spot and looks to your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead he finds you looking back through half lidded eyes that threaten to close any moment. With your eyebrows knitted together and quivering lips parted, he knows you’re on the brink of coming undone.
You reach for the back of his head as you lift your hips and cry out. You might not make those exaggerated pornstar moans, but yours are infinitely better. It’s better than anything he could have imagined. His name spills from your lips again, tired and quiet as you come down. There’s no need for you to tell him to stop or push him away this time. His softened lips are already crashing down against your mouth.
As you glide your tongue along his, the tang of your own juices fills your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. If anything it spurs you on to wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer. You tug on his shorts again. This time he raises no argument. He inhales a shaky breath as he goes in for another kiss and works the clothing down his legs until he’s steadying himself over you and clumsily struggling to kick them off.
You take his face in your hands while he gracelessly fights the fabric caught around his ankle and he smiles at you. Another jolt of electric butterflies pulse in your gut, frazzling your senses as they travel outward from their point of origin. By the time the sensation reaches your brain, it carries along the weight of your feelings. You reflect on how he cares for you, how he’s always cared for you. Navigating the key pleasure points mapped to your body is just one more way he can show it. You’re so incredibly lucky to have someone in your life so attentive and considerate of your needs. It makes you wonder how you meandered through life without a guiding light like Namjoon to lean on for support. Meditating on that thought threatens you with torrid tears.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Before he can respond with you draw him into a deep kiss, crossing your legs behind his waist to pull him closer. His shaft presses against your sensitive clit as he grinds himself down. While your body reacts with a twitch, you still roll your hips up to meet him. His bottom lip quivers and you suck it between your teeth, slowly drawing it away from him. When it snaps back to him he chases your mouth and presses you down into the pillows.
He follows the enticing motion of your hips with a loud groan. The slippery nature of your folds promises to make his entrance effortless. Each pass his cock makes over your cunt is another strike against his willpower, but god if it doesn’t feel amazing. It would be so easy to slip in, just a little bit, just enough to satisfy the aching need of the tip that inches closer and closer to your cunt. The way you lift it for him only serves as a greater invitation.
He rolls himself through your slick folds, floating on the high of the pleasure, encouraged by the moans you breathe into his mouth. He ruts into you, coasting into your entrance just enough to make him break the kiss with a whispered expletive. You whimper as he retreats and try to beckon him back with another gentle roll of your hips. He sighs, allowing himself to rock back into you enough to coat the tip of his dick with your warmth. Your cunt pulses against him, seeking to lure him further inside.
Again he surrenders to your salacious advance, sheathing the head of his cock in its entirety within your heat. You gasp and moan at the welcome intrusion, pulling on his hair as though it will move him closer than he already is.
“Please,” you whisper. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Desperate to feel the stretch of his cock diving deep inside, you make your best attempt to raise your hips higher to take more of him in. He moans into your mouth, gently rocking himself further into your cunt and then slowly pulling back out.
Playing this game is dangerous. He knows that. But with each gasp and moan he pulls from you, the stakes rise. He tells himself he’s allowed to drive another moan from you with his teasing. Just one more time. One more sound. He tests his own resolve with each shallow thrust, never sinking deeper than before.
“Joonie,” you whine as he pulls back again. “Please. Stop teasing. I want your cock in me.”
His stomach does a somersault and it snaps him back to reality before his hips can snap forward instead. He leaves the comfort of your sweet cunt to lean over you and fish for the packet in the drawer of his nightstand. It should be right on top, but it’s not. Where the fuck is it?
The sticky wet head of his cock slips against your belly while he frantically rummages through the drawer. You shudder and reach down to take him in your palm, earning you a breathy curse in response. He spares a glance towards your mischievous eyes before looking down at the way you gather the moisture from the peak of his cock and pump it down to the base. His eyes roll back in delight for a moment and he drops onto the weight of his arm. The drawer rolls out farther than it should and promptly clatters off its track and onto the carpet below.
“I can fix that,” he announces.
“Are you okay?” You laugh, trying to sit up to help.
“Fine,” he murmurs, leading you back to the pillows with a kiss. “You just got me a little...”
His eyes wander to the nightstand. Perched on its surface are the remaining foil packets he’d been searching for in the drawer with its contents now spilled on the floor.
“Oh my god.” He sighs.
“Yes?” you press with a smile. “You good?”
“Mhm.”
He quickly snatches one up, fumbling it in his hands for a second before he recklessly rips it open. He leans back on his knees to roll the condom on, but about halfway down his shaft the rubber splits and snaps against his fingers. He vents a frustrated sound from his throat and scolds himself internally for being too excited, too eager. He wasted another one in his haste.
“I’m sorry,” he says in defeat. “Hold on.”
You’re already carefully opening the last packet while he rises to discard the bits of ruined rubber. “It’s okay. Come here. I got you.”
As he approaches the bed you reach out and begin to slowly roll the new condom down his shaft. He watches your hands roam over his cock with wonder. You seem much more confident now that he’s made a complete fool of himself for the millionth time today. Maybe you won’t think of him as so much of a saint now. He’s just as much of a mess as you are.
“You don’t have to worry so much,” you say with a slow pump of your hand over his cock. “I always have that five dollars, you know?”
It’s difficult to take your eyes off of the perfect shape of his dark cock. It’s veiny and thick in your palm, and long enough to make you wonder how it might feel hitting the back of your throat.  You manage to shift your gaze to his face and beam at him.
His worried expression melts into a dimpled smile. “Geeksquad saves the day again, huh.”
“Yeah. Pretty great, right? So, come here.” Despite feigned confidence, your jaw trembles with anxiety as you settle against the pillows once more. Nerves set your body alight with excited anticipation. “And put your cock in me.”
He slots himself between your thighs and cups your cheek, catching the subtle shiver of your body.
“Cold, baby?”
“Excited,” you admit, grazing your fingers over the expanse of his back until they’re nestled in the hair behind his neck. You kiss him.
It doesn’t matter how much time he’s had to recuperate. As soon as your lips are on his and he’s teasing himself into you, he knows he’s in trouble. You’re so tight. How is he supposed to last? Inch by slow inch you take him in, then out again. Your fingers twirl around strands of his hair until you’re sure it can’t be twisted any further.
“Oh fuck.”
Your jaw drops and you gasp a stuttered slew of nonsense as he bottoms out. He remains there, unmoving as your body adjusts to the stretch of his cock. Every executable file in your brain stops working as you lie beneath him with your mouth agape, eyes wide, and fingers tangled in his hair.
“Need a minute?” he asks, peppering kisses along your bottom lip and lightly working it between his teeth.
Finally you find the command in your brain to resume all processes. You moan into his kiss and purposefully clench around him.  “Do you?”
“Evil,” he murmurs as he begins setting a slow, steady pace with his hips. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”
You throw your head back in ecstasy, exposing your neck for his mouth to latch onto. Your hands explore the muscles of his back, digging into the sculpted flesh with your nails. He grunts against you, sucking a mark into the crook of your neck to muffle the sound. Taking time to follow the creases dividing the defined muscles of his triceps, your palms drift further down to curl around the pillars of his forearms. Without disrupting his pace, he reaches up to lace his fingers with yours.
The back of your palms press into the soft pillows beside your head. You’re connected as deeply and as literally as two people can be and still you crave more. When you moan his name into the open air he trails a line of sloppy open-mouthed kisses to meet your lips. You meet each slow thrust with a roll of your hips and a desperate need to keep him inside of you forever. Frenzied panting fills the space between you as you break the kiss.
Dark eyes full of adoration peer down at you, focused on the way the force of his accelerated thrusts shake every part of your body but leaves your gaze untouched. It’s insane just how much he cares for you. By now you must be sick of hearing his declarations of love, but he wants to say it all the same. He wishes he could make you cum for him like this. He would do anything to make you cum a second time before he does. Maybe with more practice he’ll learn your body well enough to make it happen. For now he’ll settle for making you feel good. You’re enjoying yourself at the very least.
A smile spreads across your face and a sweet laugh slips out. “What?”
“What?” he echoes, lost in the sight of you beneath him like this.
It’s like his head goes empty when you laugh like that, when you look at him like you’re shy and infatuated at the same time.
“Looks like you wanna say something.”
The serious expression plastered on his features matches the intensity of his whisper, “Yeah. Maybe I do. You wanna know what it is?”
Every muscle in your cunt contracts around him. He purses his lips, takes a slow breath through his nose and relaxes his pace.
He leans next to your ear and whispers in a quiet tone, “You’re just so fucking sexy.”
You’re so flattered that all the embarrassment resting on the tip of your tongue dissipates the moment you open your mouth. Flustered words form and then decompose the moment they’re to be spoken into existence. All that comes out is a broken sound of uncertainty.
It’s like the lights dance in his eyes as he takes a moment to straighten up and regard your features. His lips press against your forehead, then your nose and he pauses over your lips.
“I love you.”
The words fall from your mouth easier than ever. “I love you too.”
He kisses you like it’s the first time: passionate, desperate, and needy. You break off to rest your forehead against his.
“So are you gonna cum inside me or what?” You can barely conceal the smile that breaks through your pursed lips.
“Wow. So am I just a piece of meat to you, Geeksquad?” he jokes.
“I mean… Protein right?” You make a ‘yikes’ face at him and start to laugh.
He shakes his head but he’s grinning like a fool. “Well if it’s what you want…”
Just like that he calls your half-bluff. He ducks his face into the crook of your neck and begins to suck another mark over the fading mark from his earlier endeavors. Your laughter quickly turns into a string of moans as he resumes the previous tempo of his thrusts. A surge of adrenalin flips your stomach on itself and excitement pulses through your body at the thought of his cum slowly dripping out of your cunt.
“I do.”
You squeeze his hands and shimmy him away from your neck so you can sink your teeth into his shoulder to hide the shame of your desire. A broken moan rattles its way up his throat as he entertains the fantasy you’ve conjured in his mind.
“You want me to fill you, hmm?” he whispers in a breathy tone between shallow breaths.
There’s no doubt in your mind that he feels the way your cunt tenses at his words to offer a wordless answer, but you also offer a muffled hum of affirmation.
“You want me to fuck my cum into you just like this, baby?” His words are followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass at a new feverish pace.
“Yes,” you whimper and bring your lips to his, high off the sensation of his dick plowing into you.
“Gonna take it all for me?”
“Mhm. Cum for me,” you plead between sloppy kisses. “Cum inside me.”
“Oh shit, baby,” he gasps.
You don’t get another opportunity to coax him into letting go because he’s already slamming his hips into you and crushing his mouth over yours. He’s buried deep inside of you when his hips still but you wiggle beneath him and purposefully clench to give him the tiniest overdose of pleasure. He sighs as he leans back, finally releasing his death grip on your sweaty palms.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“You’re sweet,” you murmur, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Good lay too.”
He rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Likewise.”
When he pulls out to rise and dispose of the condom you already miss his shape, but the unmistakable ache starts to set in: the ache of a pussy pounded too well after a long hiatus. You clamp your legs together and roll onto your side to expose the skin of your sweaty back to the cold air of the room, closing your eyes as you listen to the patter of raindrops against the window.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Mmm.” You don’t bother opening your eyes. “I seriously need another shower. Sorry about your bed.”
He kneels on the floor next to the edge of the bed and carefully moves the hair from your face. “You can soak my sheets any time.”
“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind. Sounds gross though. Definitely don’t wanna lay in the puddle behind me.”
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna sleep right there?”
“No.”
You’re such a liar.
He lets a few seconds of silence pass before he speaks again. “How about shower and movie?”
You peek at him from beneath one eyelid. “What movie?”
“Thinking The Kick, unless you have something else in mind.”
“No, that’s— Wait, what time do we have to be at Tae’s?”
Namjoon’s eyes widen and he rubs the back of his neck. “Later… Uh, about that. Are we— I mean on one hand I don’t wanna make a big deal about it but…”
You bolt upright. “Oh no. They’re gonna make such a thing out of it. Nevermind. I’m never seeing them again.”
“It won’t be that bad.”
“Won’t it? Oh my god, if I show up in your clothes…”
“Geeksquad.” He grabs your face.
“Joonie.”  
You reciprocate the action and squish his cheeks towards the center of his face, causing his lips to pucker. He quickly takes your hands into his own.
“Hey. Look at me,” he pauses to make sure you meet his eyes before he continues. “You’re fine. Stay. We’ll figure it out when we get there and we’ll do it together.”
“Okay,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
“Be my ride?” He flashes you his wide dimpled smile.
“Only if you’re mine later.” You wink and draw him into a chaste kiss.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
"Geeksquad."
His voice sounds distant and soft while reminding you you’re home. In this moment, you’re safe, you’re warm, and you’re loved. It’s too comforting to move away right now, too comforting to bring your eyes to open, so you cling to the heat of his body.
“Hey,” he tries again, gently nudging your shoulder. “Geeksquad, wake up.”
You make sure that your distaste is apparent with a loud grumble. You nuzzle against his chest with your cheek and hum like it will drown him out. He laughs softly as the sound fades away. He briefly lets silence fill the space, which allots you the precious seconds needed to hit the imaginary snooze button and doze off again. It seems he isn't having it when he lets out a loud sigh.
“You missed the end and it’s already five,” he tries to reason. “Weren’t you the one who told me not to let you sleep too long? Unless…” He carefully snakes his fingertips down to your side, hoping to remain undetected. “...You changed your mind about going home to get all cute because you finally realize you are cute, you know, without trying."
You groan against his chest and that seems to be enough to keep him quiet. Just as he feels your head begin to drop down he starts talking loudly.
"Oh, I see. You just really wanna be out flaunting how good you look wearing my clothes. That’s it, right?"
You lightly smack your hand against his chest but don’t allow yourself to let your guard down until you’re certain he's given up.
"That must be it," he continues. "Not you... Being a pain in the ass to wake up. At all.”
With your head pressed against his chest, you find it difficult to drift back off with every loud word dropping from his mouth and vibrating straight into your eardrum. Still you rock your forehead against him and try to ignore his booming voice. When his fingers dig into your side to tickle you, your body jolts up straight and you can’t help but laugh.
“Wow. She speaks,” he jokes. “...Kinda.”
You wiggle against his grip, thrusting your chest up while dipping your head back. You attempt to scold him with his name between a fit of giggles. “Stop,” you wheeze.
“But I love the way you laugh.” His fingers relax despite his words. He leans in to press his lips to your perfectly exposed neck.
Your breathless laughter quickly transforms into a subtle slew of whimpers. He swathes his tongue across a particularly sensitive spot and your breath hitches. You grab his arm and pull down like you want him to crush you like a bug. He doesn’t. Instead he smirks against your neck when he feels your nails dig into his bicep.
“Joonie…” you whine.
He offers his inquiry in the form of a hum that radiates vibrations from the point of contact with your skin.
You’re embarrassed to admit the million things you want to ask him to do right now in place of complaining about his teasing. “Come closer.”
“Closer how?” he murmurs before kissing that spot again.
You take the hand at your side and slip it beneath the worn fabric of your shirt. You don’t have to lead him very far until he’s molding the flesh of your breast with his hand and you’re panting shallow breaths into the air around you. The sweet kiss at your neck turns into a sinful demonstration. The things he could do to you, for you. Do you truly know?
You know you never want him to leave. The heat from his mouth seems to sear a path of lava straight to your core. Your fingers glide through his hair and settle at his jaw. It takes all of your self control to gently push him away from that delightful spot he’s found so that you can plant a soft kiss against his jaw.
You draw out a groan as you pull away. “Maybe we should just cancel.”
“Mmm, don’t tempt me. You know I will,” he murmurs, chasing after your lips.
You lean back just a bit further, a grin plastered on your face as you allow him to press his mouth against yours just one more time.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
The rain has been reduced to a light patter against your windshield now. You’re grateful that visibility is decent as you pull up to the familiar curb in front of Namjoon’s building. Already waiting just within the building’s entrance, he sprints out at the sight of your headlights. He eagerly hops into the passenger seat and you do your best not to look over at him. Suddenly, you’re nervous. Have your palms ever secreted this much sweat in your life? Still you keep your hands planted on the steering wheel, staring ahead like you’re playing the role of a first-time chauffeur.
Sensing a lingering apprehension, he clears his throat as his seatbelt clicks into place. “Everything okay?”
Keeping the car in park, you allow yourself to look over at him. He smells good. He looks incredible, even in a simple black tee and jeans. And he’s looking at you like all he wants to do is kiss your lips for the millionth time today. It’s like you can feel the anxiety melt from your face.
“I’m nervous,” you admit, shaking out your hands as though that will clear the sweat from them.  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
Your sheepish laugh causes him to reach out for your sweaty palm. To your surprise his hand is just as hot and moist as yours. Regardless of how uncomfortable it is, he holds on tight and laces his fingers between yours.
“It’s okay. Me too.”
The pair of you stare at each other for a few seconds in silence, just smiling and trying to think of what you were going to say before promptly getting lost in one another’s eyes. How is it you’ve never noticed the softness in his features when he looks at you like this? It still feels kind of surreal. But your heart skips a beat and you allow yourself to acknowledge the way heat radiates from your cheeks. You want to kiss him, to reassure him you’re not going to waffle on him again, but you’re too entranced by the infatuation smeared across every aspect of his face.
When you finally speak, he starts at the same time and you both have to pause and laugh. Silence falls between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s charged. It’s shy. It’s excited. He bites his lip and drags it through his teeth as his eyes rake over any part of you they can.
“You look beautiful.”
You lick your lips and your smile grows larger in response. “I- Thank you. I’m. We-- I mean, you look…” A nervous laugh slips into the breath between your words. “Hi.”
He leans across the armrest and plants a soft kiss against your lips. The moment you reciprocate his tongue dips into your mouth and glides against yours. It takes all of your willpower to keep the car running instead of plucking the keys out and dragging him back into his apartment to fuck him stupid. Still you rely on him to break the kiss.
“Hi,” he whispers, dragging a thumb across your cheek as he cups your jaw. “Still nervous?”
You nod. “My stomach hurts.”
“Hey, they’re our friends. It’ll be okay.”
“I know. You’re right.” You sit back against your seat and stare blankly out the foggy windshield. “I haven’t answered Jennie all day. She’s asking and I… I don’t want to answer.”
His heart sinks. It sounds like you want to keep things a secret, even though he knows you’re a terrible liar. No wonder you’re so nervous. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but if you asked he would attempt to cover for the both of you. He sincerely hopes you don’t ask.
“It’s just… I don’t want it to be a text. I mean, do we go in holding hands?” you ask, instantly allaying his fears. “Do we just announce it?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Geeksquad, come on. Pretend like nothing’s changed. Things are basically the same right?”
You nod, but your expression casts uncertainty over the action. “Right, right. We can just say it like that, right? I mean, we still work at the same place. We still like to hang out together. Watch movies,It’s just a little more… intimate. You know, the kind of time you spend with someone that you care about and like… make out and have bomb sex and—”
“I’ll tell them we’re together,” he interrupts. “You’re my girlfriend. You signed the love contract.”
“Okay but you’re not going to tell them about the contract right?”
“Mmm. Maybe. Didn’t see anything about it in the terms and conditions.” He laughs.
“Uh, the fine print says you’re sworn to secrecy of its existence. You know, like fight club.”
“Must have missed that. Didn’t have my glasses on, you know?”
“Oh, here.” The lightbulb in your head flickers on. You rummage through the compartment beneath the armrest, presenting Namjoon with the glasses you’d been meaning to return for some time now. “Maybe these will help. You left them at my place.”
“Shit. I thought I lost those.” He sighs, taking them from you. “Wish I hadn’t ordered another pair.”
“Sorry, I kept forgetting to give them to you,” you admit.
He smiles. “Did you forget, or were you pining over me? Be real with me, Geeksquad.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m gonna start driving before I push you out of this car.”
“Sniffing them because they remind you of me?” he teases.
“Yeah. They smell like avocados.” You laugh as you turn your attention to the road. “You’re lucky hipster glasses are in.”
“Alright, baby.”
He hums in amusement, sparing a glance out the window beside him. It seems like the barrage of rainy days may be coming to an end soon. At least he hopes so. There’s not much he wouldn’t give to take you to his favorite hiking spots, have a picnic with you under clear blue skies, or lay on a sandy beach with you by his side.
“You keep calling me baby,” you point out quietly, pulling him from his reverie.
“Wha— I’m sorry. It was heat of the moment and it felt really natural when we were fucking you know? But if it’s weird now, I-I can stop. I’ll stick with tried and true Geeksquad.” He stumbles through his embarrassment in true Namjoon fashion.
“No, I like it. I just wanted to tell you it... makes me feel good. Way better than Geeksquad.”
“Yeah, you are.”
You smirk and reach for his hand and he gives you a tight squeeze, driving the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Holding his hand is enough to keep you distracted from all the noise in your head.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
Knock-knockknock—-knock-knock.
The answer to your knock is the resounding pound of Hobi’s fist through the barrier of the door.
KNOCK-KNOCK.
The door swings open and Hoseok’s smiling face greets you. Namjoon’s hand falls from around your shoulder on instinct. Although Hoseok’s eyes briefly drop to Namjoon’s twitching fingers he draws no further attention to the reaction, stepping aside and gesturing for the pair of you to enter. Seokjin’s incoherent shouting carries from the other room, nearly drowning out your greetings.
“It’s about time.” Hoseok tips a bottle to his lips and the majority of the liquid sloshes back down as he makes a face and runs to shove it against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Yuck.”
Yoongi takes a hearty swig without so much as a glance away from the kitchen. The unmistakable bounce of a ping pong ball springs from the unseen room and you lean back to attempt to see around the blockade Yoongi and Hoseok’s bodies have created between you and whatever is happening in there.
“They started playing while we were waiting for you. Should be done soon,” Hobi says, walking back towards you. “Jimin and Tae put up a good fight but Jungkookie is too good.”
“You didn’t have to wait. We could have met you there,” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck and stealing a sideways glance at you.
Hoseok raises an eyebrow and smirks, his eyes following Namjoon’s to you. His bony finger pokes your spine and you instantly tense and straighten your posture.
“I think we all wanted to wait.”
He knows. Even as you spin towards him you feel it. Despite the words left unspoken, somehow he already knows.
Yup. It’s time. Just get it over with. Easier thought than done.
“Why?” you blurt.
“Well...” Hoseok begins, ghosting his fingers over your shoulder as he walks towards the couch to put his shoes on. “We wanted to see you guys. Had a feeling we might not see too much of you as the night goes on. Figured you might want some,” he pauses to finish knotting his shoelace, grinning at you as he stands, “hmm, alone time?”
“I— Pssfht. What?” The unexpected shrillness of your voice cuts through the space between you. You clear your throat and do your best to dampen your anxiety. “I mean, like, why would we—? We’re—We, uh, whew… Is it hot in here?”
Words are no good right now. Anything else you say will just be another unnecessary embarrassment to endure. Your heartbeat resides in your ears as your flight response kicks in. Namjoon must hear it too because drapes his arm around your shoulder and pulls you towards the comforting mass of his chest.
Your fingers fidget with your keys even though you know you won’t need them tonight. You consider tossing them in the bowl Tae keeps on the counter, but that would require walking past the rest of your friends and abandoning Namjoon. You agreed you would face them together.
Namjoon smiles softly and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’re good, man.”
“Are you?” The look on Hoseok’s face tells you he’s hoping you’ll expand on Namjoon’s short answer. “How are you doing, Y/N? Has that douche tried to contact you?”
You almost forgot about Jihoon. It seems like such a distant memory now. The sting of his words echo in the darkest corner of your mind, but not for long. A smile forces those thoughts to scatter as you look to Namjoon for support. You take a breath and exhale a relieved sigh.
“Nope. He’s gone for good, I think.” You reach for Namjoon’s hand, using the courage his touch instills to fuel your confession. “If he comes back around I’m sure my boyfriend will try to kick his ass.”
“Wait. It’s finally happening?” Hoseok’s eyes go wide and he springs from the couch in an instant to poke his fingers against your sides. He didn’t expect to be totally correct in his assumptions, but he hoped for it. “For really real?”
You said it first. Out loud. Namjoon’s stomach churns in excitement as he looks at you. You’re grinning like a dork and nodding even though he knows you’re embarrassed as hell. Yeah. He’s pretty sure he’s never been more in love with your goofy ass smile. Hoseok covers your entwined fingers with both of his hands and practically drags you both towards the kitchen.
“Guys, guys! It’s official!”
The ball leaves Jungkook’s fingertips, launches across the table and circles the rim of the final cup as his opponents turn away. The room goes quiet, save for the airy spin of the ball slowly decelerating into the contents of the cup. Namjoon adjusts his glasses and you swallow hard under the burning spotlight of your friends’ eyes.
“Drumroll, please!” Hoseok demands with a smile, rolling his tongue to begin the buildup. “Bdrdrdrrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr--”
Yoongi presses his lips together to hold back a smile and begins drumming his fingers on the wall beside him. Not willing to be outdone, Seokjin and Jungkook join in, pounding their fists on the table, followed by the light tap of Jimin’s hands against his thighs, and the smack of Taehyung’s palms against his face.
“I present to you the moment we’ve all been waiting for…” Hoseok ducks behind the pair of you and lifts your arms like you’ve just tied for victory in a boxing match. “Joonsquad!”
The inflection at the end of his tone makes you cringe almost as hard as the nickname.
“Nope. No. We’re not calling it that.”
“Joonsquad? Really?”
The combined cheers from your friends drown out your objections.
Jimin’s arms are the first to wrap you both into a tight bear hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”
The statement seems genuine, but you’re flooded with the embarrassing memory of drunkenly slobbering over his face. Namjoon had always reminded you that Jimin was used to keeping things casual but still you find yourself ashamed for going there. Harmless flirting and games of chicken ruled your friendship with Jimin for so long. You used to fantasize about his lips exploring your body, but it seems so preposterous now. You’re not sure when it happened, but things changed.
Despite your mind’s acknowledgement of his beauty there is no worry accompanying it, no butterflies wreaking havoc on your senses. Your simple crush has faded into surface appreciation. It seems easy to recognize that now that you’ve stopped trying to push down the feelings you have for your best friend. Any lingering affections you bear resemble nothing more than a strengthened friendship, much like the one you’ve shared with Jennie for years.
Even with all the back slaps and fistbumps, Namjoon’s eyes are trained on you in a smitten stupor. Embarrassment does nothing to steal the light in your eyes or the joy in your laugh. All of the congratulations in the world can’t reach his ears when you’re looking at him like that.
“I knew it!” Jennie comes running from around the corner, pushing past all the men in her path to throw her arms around you. “No wonder you’ve been dodging my texts. I wanna know everything.” She attempts a whisper, but softness doesn’t translate through the liquor already clouding her voice. “In detail.”
Namjoon clears his throat loudly to combat the redness spreading along his ears. “Where are we headed? Seesaw?”
Everyone looks at one another like they hadn’t really thought about it.
“Sure. Your first drink is on me.” Yoongi throws an arm around Namjoon.
Hoseok weaves his arm beneath Yoongi’s from Namjoon’s other side, beginning to walk them towards the door. “It’s a dancing night, don’t you think?”
“How about we hit up the strip club after?” Jungkook suggests, already tugging his sneakers on and stumbling towards the door.
Seokjin rolls his eyes and claps a hand around the youngest’s neck. “Do you really want to break up a couple so soon?”
“What? They can look together, right? Wings doesn’t discriminate. It’s like a bonding thing. You don’t mind, do you, Y/N?”
“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’re not going there.” Seokjin turns back to Jungkook to whisper, “Not every celebration needs to be at a strip club.”
“I’ll remember that on your birthday,” Jungkook mutters, already on his way out the door.
The others begin to follow suit but before you can get too far, Taehyung latches onto your elbow. “Keys.”
“Right.” You produce a tangled mess of keychains and keys. Namjoon hangs back to wait with you, leaning against the doorframe as Tae disappears.
“You’re always welcome to stay here,” Tae offers as your keys clang against the others in the bowl.
Namjoon chews on his lip and looks to you. As long as you’ll lay next to him he doesn’t care where he sleeps tonight.
“Depends how drunk we get,” you reply with a smile, lacing your fingers with Namjoon’s to lead him out of the apartment. “Thanks, Tae.”
He grins and pats Namjoon’s shoulder after locking the door. “Don’t worry, Jungkook washed all the sheets yesterday.”
You flip up the hood of your sweater and tighten the strings to cover your face. You’re definitely not coming back here tonight.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
You’ve done your best to balance your attention between your friends throughout the night, sharing food, drinking and laughing together. But as the night continues you feel your energy draining with each attempt to remain social and engaged in conversation. You’re grateful when Namjoon steers the conversation away from you, leading most of the table towards the bar to collect more drinks for everyone. Only Hoseok and Yoongi are left to hold down the table with you. You’re pretty sure Namjoon is counting on the majority of the group getting distracted and splitting off. At least you’re hoping that’s what he’s playing at because you’d really like to get away from all the questions and stories.
When you yawn Yoongi nudges your elbow out from under you, forcing you to catch yourself before your chin slams against the table.
“Tired?” he asks with a smirk, eyes focused elsewhere.
“Mmm,” you agree with a nod. “I guess I should get up before they come back or I’ll be stuck here forever, huh?”
“You know, you’re not being rude if you want to head out. You don’t have to stay and prove anything. We’ve all been rooting for you to get together. If you wanna slip away for some privacy, you should.”
It’s funny how well your friends know you. You can’t even remember what life was like before they came along.
“A break from questions would be nice,” you admit with a stretch of your arms.
Hoseok, who’s been nursing the same drink all night, brings the glass to his lips and gulps down a rather large sip and scrunches his features together. “Blegh. Ooooor you can come dance with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure.
You stare him down, tonguing the straw to your tequila sunrise and trying to steal the last sip of the drink from the ice that remains in your glass. Is he trying to fuck with you?
“Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” He laughs, offering you his hand. “Namjoonie’s not much of a dancer, but I think he’d be willing to learn from you more than me. Think I can teach you something to show him before he gets back?”
“Hobi, I know how to dance,” you say with a laugh, although you’re already taking his hand.
“Mmm, do you though?” Hoseok flitters his free hand back and forth. “Ehhhh.”
With a roll of your eyes, you spare Yoongi a glance. “You coming?”
Yoongi leans back in his seat with a shake of his head. He casually pops a fry into his mouth.“Go on. I’ll send Namjoon your way so Hobi will keep his hands above your waist.”
“That’s just rude,” Hoseok scoffs, pulling you towards the dance floor.
He’s true to his word, dancing as respectably as someone with hips like Hoseok can. He guides your hips with his hands as he sways behind you.
“You’re perfect for him,” he says.
“What?” Your rhythm falters and you lose your sense of balance, stepping on his foot as you try to keep yourself from falling. “Sorry.”
He laughs, tickling your sides. “See? That’s what I mean. Took you dummies long enough to realize it.”
“It’s my fault. I was too scared and stupid to see what was right in front of me this entire time.” You sigh and lean back, surprised to find his chest a decent distance away. “I still think he’s too good for me.”
“Oh, pffft. Stop it,” Hoseok chides in your ear.
“I hope— Ugh, nevermind.”
“What?”
A small chuckle escapes with a held breath. “It’s dumb.”
“So?”
“I just— I hope my love is good enough for him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
His hands hug around your stomach and push you closer to him, but the way they subtly tremble as they descend to rest on your hips feels different. When Hoseok steps around and hands still clasp you from behind, your heart soars. If not for the familiarity of the stiff chest at your back and the loving embrace enveloping your form, you might be nervous.
Namjoon’s lips caress your ear as he whispers, “You know it is.”
Even your best attempt to hide your embarrassed smile would fail, so it’s a good thing you’re not even trying. Hoseok wears a satisfied grin as he watches you turn towards Namjoon for a shy kiss. He thinks about leaving you with dancing advice, but instead he decides to slink away wordlessly. There isn’t anything he could say right now that the two of you would hear, not when you’re in a world of your own like this.
It’s easy to lose track of time as you grind against him, teasing him with every swaying motion of your hips. Every sigh against your ear spurs you on to press him further. Even with all the layers between you, the hard length grinding against your ass is ever-present and obvious enough to make you want to bend over so he can take you right here.
Instead you dance and feel his body move against yours until exhaustion starts to set in. Tae and Jennie are already waiting for a ride by the time you step outside. Your cheeks ache from smiling so much and every muscle in your face is too tired to speak. She looks just as tired as you but she gives you a small greeting.
It’s funny how you don’t find anything odd about the way she leans into Tae as they sit near one another, or the way Tae is absentmindedly stroking her hair. You feel like it should be odd, but the world is so far away that you can’t hold the details in your brain long enough to make a connection. Between the haze of alcohol and sleep, you’re too far gone to think too much about it.
Namjoon keeps his arm around you as he talks to Tae, but you don’t catch much of their conversation. Sleep threatens to take you where you stand. You count yourself lucky that Namjoon cares for you so well. You close your eyes to rest for a moment, but when you open them again he’s unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you out of the lyft. You shuffle past the threshold of Tae’s home.
Namjoon leads you down the hall to the guest room and pulls on the dangling chain on the lamp  near the bed. A soft yellow glow fills the room as you start to sleepily yank the clothing from your body. Namjoon quickly goes for the open door, but Tae is already in the doorway averting his gaze with one hand and holding a small quilt in the other.
“Thanks. She, uh, gets really cold,” Namjoon says, blocking your body with his frame as you bend at the waist to untie the shoes you now realize are blocking your pants from sliding over your feet.
“Sorry. Let me know if you need anything else,” Tae mumbles, clearly embarrassed. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Namjoon murmurs back, clutching the quilt as he softly closes the door and turns to you. “Baby.”
“Hmm.”
Your foot is stuck in your shoe but you can’t get your foot out because your shoe is stuck in your jeans. This is a conundrum.
“Baby, you’re gonna fall. Sit down. I’ll help you.”
“I can do it,” you mumble, plopping down on the edge of the bed.
“I know,” he says, already on his knees before you.
He frees your legs and gives you a kiss as he helps you wiggle below the bedspread, setting the quilt on top of your side.
“It’s hot,” you mumble.
“I know.”
“Too hot for blankets.”
“I know. How about the sheet?” he asks, rolling everything back except for the topsheet. He knows you. You’ll want them again soon enough.
“Mm. Come here.” You reach your grabby hands out for him as he flicks the light off.
“I’m coming.” He laughs and slides beside you. “So needy.”
Although you know he can’t see you pout, he pulls you toward his chest anyway and it turns into a smirk against his warm skin.
“It’s ‘cause I needy--you” you slur with a giggle, planting your lips against his chest in a drawn out kiss.
“You’re a hot mess and I love you,” he says, shaking his head.
“Love you, too.”
It’s clear you’re already falling asleep but he gently strokes your arm until the world around you begins to cool and fall away. When you roll away with a shiver, he carefully secures your body in a cocoon of blankets and drapes his arm and leg over you. Not even overheating could keep him from your touch. A wave of calm overtakes him.
This time he knows: this is love.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
Months into your relationship,you’ve have prepared for the end of the semester by planning a little vacation for just the two of you. Namjoon struggles to get through his last day of work, daydreaming about staying at Tae’s summer home and laying on the beach with you. His favorite hiking spot isn’t too far from there and he’s been dying to take you and show you the clearing of wildflowers he loves so much. Hopefully they’ve bloomed beautifully.
He yawns and stretches out, flipping the binder on his desk. It’s been a long day, commemorating the end of a long week. He’s exhausted, but he’s graded every last paper and is in good shape to submit final scores by the deadline. His phone buzzes against the dark wood in the only spot bereft of errant papers. He flips the screen around, finally allowing himself to check the time and give in to distractions.
You: Still working bae
He smiles, thumb gliding over the screen effortlessly while attempting to organize the mess on his desk.
Namjoon: Just finishing up. You: 😏 You: can I You: come before you finish You: it’s only fair
He halts his efforts to stare at his phone.
Namjoon: … You: yes?? Namjoon: 🤦‍♂️ You: what? I’m serious You: 😈😈😈 Namjoon: You on campus? You: I mean... You: who else is gonna be your ride 😘
He shakes his head, smile growing wider as he glances up at the monitor before him. He definitely doesn’t miss running to catch the last bus on late nights. He’s nearly done logging final comments. He’ll be done sooner than you can get here, but this might be as good a time as any to make the reveal.
Namjoon hits the icon to call you, swooning at the familiar image of you stealing his drink. He straightens his glasses and types away at the keyboard while trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder. It doesn’t ring for very long.
“Joonie?”
“Hey, I gotta upload these grades but I’m having trouble.”
You sigh. The last thing you want to do tonight is work, especially not with what you had planned. “What kind of trouble?”
Even as he types away on the keyboard, his mind searches for a term, some kind of red alert to get you off the phone and into his office so he can tell you in person.
“Uh… blue screen.”
“Blue screen of death?” You rub your temple. “What does it say?”
“Uh,” he swallows, pausing to proofread the comment along with the grade he’s about to submit. “It just restarted.”
“On its own?”
Submit.
“Yeah.”
“Is this the first time it’s doing this?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, see if it starts up okay. We can always come back before we go on vacation.”
“Baby, I really want to get these done tonight. I was so close to being done so we can start tonight.”
You sigh heavily and check your makeup in the rearview mirror. “Is it starting up?”
“No, it’s beeping.”
Even straining your ears doesn’t help you pick up on the sound.  “Are you sure?”
“Can you come here? Please?”
Your heart melts. “I’ll be right there.”
You turn the car off and grab one of Namjoon’s oversized hoodies from the backseat. You slip it over your skimpy outfit and carefully make your way to the library, tugging on the hem like it will somehow magically cover all the exposed flesh down to your knees. No such luck. Regardless of how many times you’ve practiced wearing these awful heels, it’s not like you expected to be walking up several flights of stairs in them.
There’s no security guard at the station across the quad. You don’t know if you should feel as happy as you do about that. Despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to get in your car and demand an escort to his office, embarrassment outweighs any fear for safety and you push on. Only a familiar yellow cardigan draped over a chair greets you at the receptionist’s desk, its occupant long gone for the night.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you climb the stairs, passing stack after stack of dimly lit bookshelves until you’re standing outside of the only office still illuminated. Thankfully the door is propped open and you power walk as fast as you can towards it. The faster you can fix it, the faster you can head home and celebrate the end of the semester the way you originally planned.
He nearly tips the chair as he stands. It hits the back wall of his office with a graceless bang. “Y/N? Are those heels? Did you drive here in those?”
It’s difficult to keep your lips as they are when he adorns that expression, features battling between where they might settle: aroused or awestruck. You’d rather not screw up the perfect lipstick application you worked so hard to achieve— not yet at least. The plan is to be on your knees when that happens.
“You look—” he pauses as his traveling eyes try to glean any information they can. His voice lowers to a whisper and he quickly attempts to sate his curiosity with a wandering hand up your thigh. “Are-Are you not wearing anything under there?”
Before you can answer his fingers find the pleated fabric hidden beneath the hoodie and a new, eager question fumbles from his lips. “What are... you wearing?”
As much as you’d like for him to keep exploring, you muster enough willpower to smack his hands away. It’s only fair that he has to wait while you work.
“Computer first. You said it was beeping. Did it ever start back up?”
He swallows hard as you round the desk and start troubleshooting. It’s hard to think when all the blood in his brain is quickly evacuating in favor of inhabiting a far less intelligent location. He’s supposed to say something. He knows that much. But you look so beautiful he forgets how to say it. Your brows furrow in frustration and you sigh his name.
You’ve done your makeup, your hair is down for the first time in a long time, and you even put on a cute outfit as far as he can gather. But here you are in his hoodie, donning a pair of blue-light blocking glasses, rolling up the baggy sleeves, and tying your hair into a tight ponytail as you start to go into full on geeksquad mode. Even with your hunched shoulders and irritated tongue clicking, you’re trying to help him, still beautiful in the way he loves.
Underneath all that skin-deep beauty that fades with time, within the wrinkles that have already begun to crease the edges of your eyes and the corners of your mouth, you shine. You shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen. Months of reflecting your light haven’t been enough to show you the true glow of your soul, but he’s confident that one day you’ll see it.
He’s pulled back to reality as your scowl settles on him. Repeatedly pressing the power button with your finger won’t change the fact that he’s purposefully unplugged it, a fact it seems you’ve come to realize when you reach for the VGA cable and there’s nothing there.
A charming, dimpled smile graces his features and he picks up the monitor with ease. “I, uh, think maybe something fell off before you got here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your computer, is there?” You lean back in the chair and sigh as he stands there like a fool on the opposite side of the desk, cradling his LCD screen like a bouquet.
“No,” he says sheepishly. He gently lowers the monitor to the floor and sighs. “I planned on presenting this better, but you distracted me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while now.”
Your stomach is spinning and you take in a deep breath. Oh fuck. Is he really going to break up with you? No, he can’t be. He wouldn’t be smiling about that. Would he?
“Nothing bad,” he quickly adds, circling behind the desk and your chair in one large stride. His thumbs dive into the fabric of your hoodie to rub circles into your shoulders.  “At least I don’t think you’ll think it’s bad…” Terror strikes at his belly and he adds, “Unless you do...”
“Joon. Please. You’re stressing me out. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
He spins the chair around and squats down onto one knee. He straightens his tie and reaches for your hand, sending your stomach on another rollercoaster ride, only this one is running in the complete opposite direction and you’re equally as unprepared. You’re not really a marriage kind of person. Well, maybe you are, but you’re not sure. It’s too soon to know! You’re more of a limbless amoeba at this point, stuffed into heels and floating with the other protozoa in the petri dish of the universe, unthinking, just existing.
The world stops as he reaches into his coat pocket and you find yourself too petrified to speak. You close your eyes and slump into the chair like you’ve become a being comprised solely of pudding. Your skirt rides up as you sink and your panties shrink into the world’s thinnest thong. Have you ever held a breath for this long? Maybe you’ll melt through the mesh seat and evaporate into the cheap carpet below. It takes him too long to realize his latest mistake.
It was probably the pudding hand that tipped him off.
“Oh. Shit. Okay. No, look at me. I’m not—” He laughs and sets something in your palm, closing your fingers around it and holding them there. “Look.”
You finally settle on the floor before him and squeeze the item in your palm. It feels unremarkable, like a basic wire or plastic cap. The most remarkable part about it is that it is definitely not a ring.
Relief washes over you with the breath you exhale. “Joon. You’re killing me. Please.”
“Here’s the thing.”
He releases your hand so you can look at this unremarkable thing that has caused you so much panic. It’s the plastic head of a CAT5 plug, pins and all. You tilt your head to one side and inspect it with childlike curiosity and bewilderment.
“I’m not that bad with computers. I mean, I’m not like you-level, but I’m not as bad as you think.”
Things begin to click into place. This isn’t just any ethernet plug. It’s the first one, the one you couldn’t fathom disappearing like it did, leaving a mess of wires in its wake. Namjoon just seemed so clueless that you naturally blamed drunken students vandalizing campus property for shits and giggles. It never crossed your mind that the sweet, quiet professor could have staged the whole thing.
“Before I knew you, I wanted to know you. But I felt like I needed an excuse to talk to you so I…” He reaches into his pocket and adds various bits of broken plastic and screws to your cupped hand. “...did this.”
You blink stupidly at the pile in your palm, watching busted pieces of plastic slide off the side of the tiny heap of junk and fall onto the floor beside your knees. “Oh my god. You…?”
“Breaking things seemed like the easiest way to spend time with you,” he admits. “At least at first. I started doing less destructive things after a while. Deleting empty documents. Unplugging my keyboard. Turning off bluetooth. Moving my email shortcuts. I mean, damn. I thought you caught me more than once. I kept waiting for you to call me out. I dreaded it. I hoped for it.”
A cackle bubbles in the back of your throat but you suppress it with a snort. “So you held onto these? This whole time?”
“I didn’t know if I should like, recycle them or not and it’s not like I could ask you. And I mean googling that just seems suspicious. I’m not about to land myself on a watch list or something. But like, for real, you should definitely tell me if I can recycle them though because I have more and I would really like to clean out my drawer.”
Laughter breaches your lips in full force. “You faked being bad at stuff this whole time? Joonie, are you serious? I can’t believe I fell for the way — the way you type!” You cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath between laughs. “With two fingers! I should have known. Only dads type like that. Oh my god. “
He offers a sheepish smile. “Actually, I really type like that. Something about the keys.”
“Oh.” Your laughter dies. “Sorry. I mean that like… mmm. You know what, I meant what I said. Kinda crazy, considering you text faster than me.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Okay. Texting is different.”
You cross your arms, burying the broken pieces in your clenched fist. “Have you ever needed my help? Should even come running anymore?”
“Hey, sometimes I really do. I’m still clumsy. Plus, it’s out there now. I have no reason to waste your time... unless you want me to. I won’t stop you from climbing under my desk in those hot pants you wear with all the little pockets.”
You furrow your brows and scoff, an incredulous grin spreading across your face. “My cargo pants? Those pockets are huge.”
“Not compared to your ass.” He shakes his head with a smile, holds up his hands like he’s cupping your ass and pretends to squeeze it a couple times.
“Why are you like this?” You laugh with a roll of your eyes.
“Excuse me, who’s the one getting so drunk she’s going on thinking it’s hot to talk about making guacamole with my avocado dick?”
“Vaguely remember that. Smeared it all over me though, didn’t you?” You grin and wiggle your eyebrows.
He purses his lips and takes a breath. “If you mean watched you drink too fast on an empty stomach while we waited for takeout, sat with you while you dry-heaved for 20 minutes untiI I carried you to the couch and held your hand till you drank enough water to fall asleep, then yeah. Smeared it good.”
“And that’s why… I love you.”
You lean in and stop short of his lips, sitting back enough to narrow your eyes at him.
”Wait a minute. Projector.”
If you’ve been living on a ramen and cereal diet for two years because of a man’s inability to properly express romantic interest, you’re going to be pissed, regardless of how much you love said man now.
“Oh, hey, no. Hold up. The projector was a real accident. I cried,” he reminds you. “I will proclaim you as my goddess and savior for all time on that one.”
“Goddess, huh?” you smirk and close your fist around the busted pieces, leaning in for a kiss. “You gonna call me that instead now? I think I like that better than Geeksquad.”
He hums disagreement against your lips, “Mmm-mmm.”
You rest your forehead against his. “Promise me you won’t purposefully break anything else going forward.”
“I promise. That includes your heart,” he whispers, cupping your chin and pressing his lips against your cheek.
“You are so corny.” You pull at his tie, grinning as you lure him to your lips again. “And I’m so here for it. Now are you gonna help me up so we can start our vacation? Or are you gonna sit there with a hard dick and pretend like you still have work to do?”
He clicks his tongue and rises to his feet to extend a hand to you. As you attempt to pull yourself up, he reaches for your sides and lifts you with ease until you’re perched on the edge of his desk. He didn’t ask you to part your legs yet they spread for him anyway, wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.
“Are you gonna make me guess what all this is about?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving your crude ponytail a soft tug.
You smirk, staring at the red streaks of your lipstick circling his mouth while you try to ignore the heat between your legs that begs you to take him right here. You’ve imagined fucking on this desk thousands of times, but at least you still have enough sense to realize the risk in playing out that fantasy. He’s got a perfectly good desk at his place anyway.
“Take me home and maybe you’ll get to find out,” you say, pulling your keys from the hoodie pocket and letting them hang from your finger.
He groans as he takes them from you. “You know I can’t do highways.”
“Backroads are fine.”
“It’s gonna take forever,” he complains, dropping his head to your shoulder.
“It’s a good time to practice. Come on.” You pat his back a couple times and hop down from the desk, making sure to grind yourself against his erection. “I promise I’ll make it worth the wait.”
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
As soon as you’re in his apartment, you remove the hoodie to reveal your very crude surprise: a slutty schoolgirl costume. Eyes wide and jaw slack, he stops loosening his tie to imitate a lifeless statue of a drooling neanderthal.
“Y/N, what is… Why?”
“Because,” you begin in a low, sultry tone as you drag your fingers over the soft silk still in his hand. “I want you to teach me a lesson.”
His soft exhale fills the space between you and he stumbles to form a response. He laughs nervously, unable to compose himself. “What?”
You bite your lip, suddenly feeling stupidly uncertain. “You… watch this porn all the time, don’t you? At least I thought you did. Oh. Oh god. This is stupid. Sorry.”
He grips your shoulders to keep you from running towards the bedroom. His eyelids flutter for a
second as he struggles to compose his thoughts. “No. It’s fine. I’m all for roleplay. I’m just... I’m not into the teacher-student trope.”
You frown and reach into the hard-drive files of your brain for any porn you’ve seen on his computer. He’s lying and he knows you know it. He wilts under your puzzled gaze.
“I’m not that into it. Like a lot. I’ve seen some, but only when the story is there.”
“Oh, the story?” You hold back a giggle.
Is he really trying to tell you he’s watching porn for the plot to cover for some terrible porno choices? He should know by now that you don’t care about that. You’ve watched more than your fair share of terrible videos just to get off and immediately hated yourself after. It shouldn’t come as a surprise considering he pretended to be a total idiot with technology for years to cover up his feelings.
“What? I’m serious. I think it’s great when the woman is the teacher and the guy is her equal, you know? She definitely makes as much as he does, if not more because she does it in tight clothes because of the dress code, you know? And he comes in one day after hours and is like how does all this work, anyway? And she starts explaining but you know a button snaps and there’s tension. Baby, you know I’m a feminist. I would never—”
“Joonie. I’m not judging you. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t into it myself. I thought it might be fun. And I mean… I really wanted an excuse to have you bend me over your desk, but if you’re not interested I can just—” As soon as you start to work at the buttons of your blouse, he reaches out to stop you.
“We can try it,” he says, bashfully taking a step back and tapping his fingertips against yours. “I’d like to, if you’re down.”
You see an opportunity to break the tension and put him at ease, donning your best valley-girl accent. “Oh em gee, Professor Kim! You are, like, my favorite teacher. Is there some way I can get some extra credit? Puhleeeaase.”
“Nope, none of that,” he says with a laugh, twining his fingers with yours. “As a rule you cannot use that voice.”
“Fair enough.” You lead him towards the desk and gesture to the chair nearby. “How about I’m the teacher since you like that plot point so much?”
He chews his lip to hold back a toothy grin and watches with eager eyes as you bend at the waist to inspect the desk before him, giving a clear view of your ass and panties as your skirt rises. You relocate anything valuable to the nearby bookshelf and work on gathering the papers strewn about the surface.
“Sorry just let me gather up all my extra paychecks,” you mumble.
Once the desk is clear you perch yourself on its edge. Namjoon is already holding out a hair tie and a pair of glasses.
“You forgot these at the staff meeting.”
You roll your eyes and grin, working your hair into a messy bun and resting the glasses atop your head. “Thank you, Professor Kim.”
“Professor Kim is my father. Call me Namjoon.”
You purse your lips and try your best not to laugh, uncrossing and recrossing your legs purposefully. “I suppose you can call me Y/N, then.”
He makes no attempt to hide his lurid gaze, but his eyes travel to your face and he smiles. “Can I call you beautiful, instead?”
“Very smooth, Joonie,” you chuckle, breaking character for a moment.
“Joonie. Hmm. I like the way that sounds in your mouth.”
“I think there’s something else you’d like in my mouth. Maybe you’d like to put it in?”
Namjoon straightens in his seat as you approach, chest heaving in anticipation as he spreads his legs further so you might slot yourself between them. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you work his belt off, slowly sinking to your knees as you try to will yourself to break away from his kiss. He’s eager to unzip his pants and free his cock for you. It stands at attention, eagerly awaiting your touch.
Your breath warms the tip as you skim your lips across him, teasing him just enough to have him twitching, aching to thrust into that pretty mouth. He bites his lip as he looks down at you and inhales sharply through his nose the moment you grip his shaft. The moan that follows is like music to your ears and you grant him the flat of your tongue to reward such a sound.
He combs his fingers through his hair and clutches your shoulder as you take him into your mouth. The dark swollen head of his shaft is thick enough to make your jaw ache, but the sound of him cursing and losing all sense of coherence makes it worth it. As he sinks further into your mouth, he tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut in ecstasy.
You take him as deep as you can, allowing your spit to coat his cock. He likes it when it’s sloppy, when you’re drooling over yourself while he fills your mouth and you’re more than happy to oblige. Your eyes water as he flirts with the back of your throat with a soft, shallow thrust. When you choke his head snaps up to focus on you but you wave his concerned look away and grip his shaft tightly.
A thin string of precum and spit still connects your mouth to him as you lean back for just a second to compose yourself.
“Hope you don’t have any other meetings planned.”
“Why’s that?” His palm gently cups the back of your head, waiting for the moment you’re ready to take him again.
“I’m gonna make a mess of you.”
“Good.”
You meet his eyes and gather as much spit in your mouth as you can, allowing it to dribble down his cock before pumping your fist over him. He doesn’t have time to guide your head back down because you’re already on him again, working him over with your hand any place the warmth of your mouth can’t reach.
He chokes out an expletive and buries a hand in your hair, taking in the sight of your perfect mouth offering the bliss he craves. “You take me so well.”
You bob on his cock until he snakes his fingers down to undo the first button of your blouse, granting him access to a sliver of cleavage. He’s eager to see more of you, to feel more of you. Even after months of being with you, it doesn’t take much to tip him over the edge. He won’t last much longer if you keep going, but he’ll be damned if he blows his load in your mouth before even getting an opportunity to touch you.
“I wanna feel you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to coax you away from his cock and back to his lips.
The moment you press your lips against his he reaches for your waist to help you stand. He’s about to follow suit when you surprise him, straddling his lap and grasping at his tie to pull him towards your chest. His cock throbs as it grinds against the slick barrier of your soaked panties, begging for entrance as he buries his face in the splendor of your cleavage. A roll of your hips tempts him to push your panties aside and plunge into you like this. His fingers work as quickly as they can to pop open a few more buttons before slipping down to grip the meat of your ass.
“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding yourself down.
His arms tense and before you can entice him further he stands with a grunt, hoisting you onto the desk. You barely have time to react as he yanks your panties down and plunges a finger into your dripping cunt. Planting an arm behind you and keeping the other clasped around the back of his neck, you weakly attempt to keep yourself somewhat upright.
“How about you make a mess for me instead,” he whispers, leaving your cunt in favor of rubbing quick circles against your clit. “And then I’ll fill you up. Walk you out of here past everyone so they can see my cum dripping from your thighs. Everyone will know what a filthy slut you are for me, won’t they, beautiful?”
The way your muscles tense up nearly gives you a cramp. You bite your lip and nod with a pathetic fucked out grin as he fucks his fingers into your cunt, continuing to rub against your clit. Your elbow wobbles and you frantically grasp at his shirt instead, balling the material into your fist, desperate to undo the buttons but too close to nirvana to remember how to perform such a simple task. Your legs shake against the surface of the desk, and while the steady rhythm of his finger against your clit is heavenly, you’re ready to cry when his fingers leave your hole empty and aching to be filled.
“Joon, please.”
As soon as the desperate plea leaves your mouth, the tip of his cock teases your entrance, providing small, shallow thrusts that send you soaring past the threshold of your release. He can’t help but smile against your kiss as you drag his bottom lip through your teeth and melt into his form. Your walls spasm wildly around him and he gradually lets the pressure off your clit, instead increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. He fucks you through the shockwaves of pleasure that follow your orgasm, stilling only when your eyelids stop fluttering and you’re able to meet his gaze with a fatigued satisfaction.
“Why’d you stop?” you wonder, lazily opening the buttons on his shirt. Pert brown nipples poke out from beneath the soft fabric, with the silky tie still swaying between them.
He watches you with a smile for a moment before pursuing the last few buttons of your blouse. Quickly working it off your shoulders, you give him the opportunity to reach for the clasp of your bra. It doesn’t take long for him to sweep you into a deep kiss, entranced by the way your skin feels against him while he’s still buried inside of you.
“Bend over this desk for me, baby. Show me that sexy ass.”
You whimper at the loss of his cock but do as he asks, knowing you’ll soon be full again. He lifts your skirt, takes both cheeks in his hands and squeezes before giving one side a slap. The moan that escapes you is embarrassing and it spurs him to repeat the action.
“Fuck,” he whispers, finally allowing his cock to press against cunt once more. “So fucking wet.”
Your own juices coat the expanse of your thighs, slowly trailing down them. Without warning he slams into you hard and fast. Wet slapping sounds fill the room as he holds your hips, driving them back to meet his thrusts.
“So fucking tight.”
You grip the opposing edge of the desk and moan. “You’re so deep, baby.”
“Fuck...” The word is exhaled through a shaky breath.
“So deep you could read me poetry,” you whisper, unable to stop the joke even though you know he’s on the cusp of cumming.
He huffs out a strained puff of air as he tries his hardest not to laugh. He gives in to the laughter after you begin to giggle. Unable to save himself, he leans into the joke that threatens to ruin his orgasm. “You’re my person. You’re my desire. You’re my pride...”
His thrusts are sloppy, his legs tense. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s not mad. It must be your own grin that is contagious because he’s smiling even though he’s shaking his head at you.
“You’re my love. One and only love,” you recite for him, reaching back for his hand and pushing your hips back into him with force.
His grip on your hip tightens and he squeezes your hand. He slams into you a final time with a moan, ensuring he’s as deep as he can be before filling you with his seed. The pleasure amplifies every time you try to wiggle back for some sort of movement and he moves his hand to your ass, digging his fingernails in like it will keep him grounded. He leans over your form, kissing any bit of skin on your back his lips can reach.
Regardless of the sensitivity he keeps himself buried in you, hoping by some miracle he’ll stay hard enough to fuck you a second time. He can’t tell what’s his mess and what’s yours anymore as it drips down his balls to his thighs. As he finally slips out, you turn to face him with a sweet smile on your lips.
Your fingers glide through his hair and trail down to cradle his cheek. “I love you.”
Namjoon leans into your touch, pressing his lips to the inside of your palm. “I love you too.”
Maybe it’s the endorphins, but he can’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable and happy with another person, someone he can be so unapologetically himself with. He’s completely certain that he’s bound to you by fate. The love you share is destiny, a gift from the universe he never intends to take for granted.
No matter what the future holds, he knows he wants you by his side through it all: his one and only love.
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ashiemochi · 3 years
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aphrotitty - xxxviii (i)
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✠ Aphrotitty ↳ Don’t do anything stupid ↳↳ does something stupid
~~ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ~~ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes ~~ word count: no
NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters
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The thirty-eighth time Leon saw her, it was a Friday evening around six o’clock; the night before Christmas. He had never ever seen such a rowdy neighbourhood – he could practically hear the cheers and Christmas music echo around him. All that was missing was snow, but it rarely ever snows in Los Angeles; and all they’ve got is rain, rain, and more rain.
Leon checked the last text So Ah had sent him as he made his way to the front door; my parents are coming tomorrow with my siblings so I’m a bit all over the place tonight. Think you could come over? I’ve got dairy-free-yuck hot chocolate :)
How could he ever say no?
✠✠
The South Korean girl ran her hand through her hair for the nth time nervously out of habit. Her eyes ran over the decorations one more time; still looking as perfect as ever, having scanned them an unfathomable amount of times since the day she had put them up.
“Okay, okay, they’re coming tomorrow and it’s going to be fine.” So Ah muttered to herself before a sense of dread washed over her, “Wait eggnog’s in the fridge right?”
Before So Ah could head to the kitchen for the god-knows-how-many-time, a doorbell rang her out of her anxiety consumed constant checkups.
She rubbed her sweaty palms on her black jeans as she made her way to her front door, fixing her baby blue knitted sweater. Swinging the door open, a huge sigh of relief left her body at the sight of the man she needed.
“You look like a nervous wreck; what is it? Glad to see me?” Leon teased, entering the house and away from the pouring rain.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” She smiled nervously at him, shutting the door behind him to once again fill the atmosphere with warmth from the heater and she made her way to the kitchen to quench her anxious thoughts, “Last time I’ve been this jittery was during high school's prom.”
Leon followed her, eyes taking in the decorations in the living room from his point of view, no longer being separated by the phone’s screen, “Well, everything seems to be in order, so why are you nervous?”
She poked her head out of the fridge, sighing in relief when she saw the numerous cups of eggnog; still in the same place ten minutes ago.
“I... I don’t know.” She admitted as Leon came into the kitchen, “I guess I haven’t seen them since August and I want to make an impression, you know?”
“Yeah,” He nodded understandingly, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “From what you’ve told me, your parents are hard to impress.”
His eyes glanced at her wringing hands as she would look out into her living room to check from afar if anything was off.
“Hey,” Her attention snapped back to him at that tender tone, seeing the reassuring smile on his face, “Cut yourself some slack, you’ll do fine.”
The butterflies in her stomach fluttered both in anxiety and in warmth and she stammered, glancing at the living room then back at him, “Come see.”
She grabbed onto his upper arm and he let her pull him to the living room.
Leon looked down at her with confused eyes then back up at the beautiful sight he saw on that video call. The fairy lights were on, blinking from time to time and giving the tree an overall warm look. The tree was adorned in ornaments and tinsels, along with polaroid pictures of family memories.
Colourful stockings and bells were hung around, going well with the minimal tinsels she had used. Just right above the fireplace was a medium-sized Christmas wreath and in the middle of the opening, a small snowman plush sat; most likely from one of her collections.
Mini trees were scattered around in an organized way and finally, a Christmas ball on the shelf underneath the flat TV and above the fireplace; overall, everything just looked perfect and exerted the Christmassy vibe to the point.
“I don’t see anything wrong.” Leon returned his eyes down to her and she only frowned.
“You don’t see anything wrong?” So Ah repeated in disbelief.
He chuckled, “That’s what I just said, buttercup.”
Her anxiety faltered just a little at the new pet name before gesturing to the coffee table which had two mini Christmas trees on top of a white table cover with a closed glass bowl in the middle that held cookies and gingerbreads, “You don’t think that’s too much?”
“Sweetheart –”
“Because I swear, I’ve arranged that stupid table too many times and –”
“So Ah –”
“And the gifts...” She rambled, pointing to the groups of perfectly wrapped boxes of gifts but to her, they seemed chaotic.
“I can’t decide whether it’d be big boxes in the back with the small ones in front of them or big ones at the front with the small ones on top of them –”
“Hey –”
“I mean, my parents are all about presentation and I don’t wanna disappoint –”
“So Ah!” She was silenced immediately when his hands were set on her shoulders and he got to her vision, eyes peering straight into hers.
“Relax, alright?” Leon coaxed, hands gently tightening their grip before sliding them down to her upper arms and he smiled to reassure her.
“You did a pretty damn good job doing all of this on your own; give yourself some credit, okay?”
She went quiet before taking a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm down her fast-beating heart. His eyes were too kind and gazed at her in utter warmth. Not only was she overridden with anxiety at the current situation, but she knew she had little to no guts to ask him about the unkissed kiss.
So she resorted to never bringing it up - maybe later when she's more sure of his feelings towards her.
“O... Okay...” She breathed out and he nodded as if encouraging her to relax.
“There you go,” He gave her a proud grin as his thumbs mindlessly caressed her skin through her sweater, “That’s better, right?”
A tired giggle left through her lips, shyly looking up at him.
“I’m... Sorry.” She apologized, cheeks going red in embarrassment, “It’s just... It’s a bit stressful.”
“Yeah, I bet.” He hummed before an idea popped in his head, “How about something warm? It’ll help you calm down.”
“Oh, uhm, yeah.” She cleared her throat, eyes going down when she noticed his hands were still on her arms, butterflies going wilder at this point and she stepped back much to her dismay; “There’s hot chocolate in the kettle. I’ll go get it.”
She turned to go back to the kitchen to prep the tray, and then probably check onto the eggnogs again; seriously, are they still in there or did I hallucinate?
Leon let out a bunch of tsks and set both hands on her shoulders to stop her, “Nope, you’ll sit down and take a deep breath.” He began leading her away to the couch then gently pushed her down.
“But Leon, I can’t –” She grabbed onto his hand to try and stop him, feeling guilt crawling up her back but he shook his head, seemingly dead set onto his choice.
“You’ve done enough, So Ah.” He gave her a wink with that cheeky smile of his; “Can’t have you exhausting yourself, now can I?”
She had no choice but to let him go and he disappeared out of the living room and to the kitchen. She let out a sigh, trying to actually calm down as her eyes caught red crescent moons dug into her palms; most likely from how hard she was clenching her hands.
Her thoughts trailed away to her family as she inhaled in oxygen to hold; sure her brother and sister would love the decor that she had done on her own, but her parents were... Something else.
Having grown with highly educated parents who’re into science and such, getting them impressed by design or art was a bit difficult. Out of every portrait or painting she had done, only one made it to the wall of honour; and it was her first portrait of her mom.
She remembers her own father commissioning her to design the layout of a new Green Life branch he was planning on doing; knowing damn well that she wasn’t an architect. She practically spent an entire month studying a whole new form of art to finish the design. When she showed it to him, he didn’t show much expression nor did he say much, but she’d like to believe she saw a small impressed smile when he said: Good work.
The next day, her mom bought her a brand new set of oil colours and an envelope from her dad; the payment for the commission. Sure, her dad wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but he was acknowledging her existence.
Still, that did not stop her rattling nerves; God knows what they will think of what she had prepared. Maybe this time they would appreciate her efforts.
“That doesn’t look like you’re calming down.”
The honeyed voice yanked her back down from her clouds and she looked over at him, seeing him holding onto two mugs as Leon sat down next to her and offered her the pink mug whilst he took the blue one.
She let out a nervous breathily laugh, taking the mug with both hands to at least stop clenching them.
“I’m still a bit on edge, I guess...” So Ah admitted, looking down at her hot chocolate, seeing he had plopped marshmallows into it and she smiled.
“With all the effort you’ve put to this place, I doubt they’d have anything to criticise.” He chimed up as he brought up the mug to his lips, “Hell, even I’m impressed with what you’ve done.”
“Guess you weren’t avoiding me after all.” Leon subtly smirked at her to which she gasped lightly, shaking her head profusely.
“What? No! I would never do that at all!” She confessed before frowning a little, “I’ve just been busy and –”
“Relax, buttercup, I’m just teasing ya.” He laughed, his free hand coming up to ruffle her hair, “I know I’m too irresistible for you to ignore.”
She blushed at this, not really denying the idea, and jokingly snapped back, “You’re horrible.”
“Only trying to lighten up the mood.” He chuckled, giving her an innocent smug look before taking a sip from his warm drink then his eyes widened up in surprise, tasting the sweet liquor in it.
“Oh, wow, did not expect that, what is it?”
She giggled at his reaction, more when he took another bigger sip.
“Amaretto and cinnamon; I don’t make it much but it is Christmas night, isn’t it?”
A hummed uh-huh came from him, still drinking before he let out a sigh and licked his lips for any residue.
“You got that right, damn...” He grumbled lowly in an impressed tone.
Her eyes gazed at him, amused but also she felt pride in her hot chocolate drink.
One thing she didn’t like was the fact she only made one kettle, and it was dairy-free. God knows how much she loves heavy cream milk – but for Leon and this stupid lactose intolerance, she was more than willing to switch things up for him.
Yeah, she could’ve made another kettle for hot chocolate milk; but those maybe-non-existent eggnogs in the fridge kept bugging her mind along with the decorations.
“Oh, right, I got you something.” Leon sat the half-drunken mug onto the table and she straightened up in surprise at this.
��Really?” She voiced her excitement as he pulled out a hand-sized box wrapped in black with a golden ribbon.
“It’s part of a bigger gift so technically,” Leon grinned, offering it to her as she looked down at it then back at him, “You can open it now.”
“Oh, Leon, you shouldn’t have...” She breathed out, setting down her mug.
He smiled gingerly at her, “I want to.”
A small pout was on her lips with a faint smile as she carefully took it from his hand as if it would suddenly break. It felt light, maybe a tick on the heavy side; but overall, she could just guess it would be a chain or some sort of an accessory.
“Go on.” He urged as he took his drink back with his eyes set on her in amusement and slight excitement to see her reaction, “It won’t open by itself.”
She giggled at that before she unwrapped the ribbon followed by the black wrapper, revealing a red velvet box. The moment she opened it, her eyes widened and a gasp left through her lips.
It was a thin silver bracelet with blue gems minimally adorning it, making it pop with the birthstones. Though the whole thing was simple, it looked expensive.
“Leon...” She awed as she gently took it out, putting the box down and watched the end of the chain dangle with a small star.
Her heart was pounding as the butterflies returned to flutter around wildly at the gesture. She wasn’t expecting a gift from anyone – especially not him.
“Take a look inside.” Leon nodded at the bracelet with now a smile at her reaction – and those red cheeks.
She blinked at him in confusion then flipped the bracelet to the other side and laughed, seeing to my Aphro-titty with a small heart carved at the end, “Oh no, Leon.”
“I got it custom-made.” He told her, “Let’s just say the jewellery guy didn’t really have that kind of humour.”
Chuckling, he remembered the strange look he got from the guy as he wrote down the details Leon wanted on the bracelet.
“It’s broken humour at this point.” She remarked and he laughed, agreeing with her.
“Here, let me...”
She handed it to him and he unchained it then she rolled up her sleeve enough to show her wrist, which already had a golden bracelet of her own. She could practically feel the heat and the presence coming off of his hands as he clipped the hook; which led to her feeling the coolness of it all.
Her hand stayed in his as her orbs admired the bracelet before their eyes met; cinnamon and ice. Her lips formed into a delighted loving smile as she whispered, “Thank you, Leon; I love it.”
He gave her that charming smile of his, “No problem at all.” Then it settled onto a teasing one, “Where’s my gift?”
“Wait.” She jumped off, heading to the tree and picked up the biggest one of all that was leaning against the wall.
It was three feet in width and probably two in height – doesn’t matter, that motherfucker was big. It had a weight to it too, noticing her slight huffs as she faced him with it. She grinned when she saw that childish glint in those blues as he took in the giant gift.
“Wow... Is this what you’ve been working on?” Leon recalled, looking up at her and she nodded, giving it a glimpse as she carefully held it in her hands and set it onto the ground for some weight support.
“It needed a whole new painting technique and such but...” She smiled giddily, “I hope you like it.”
“Well, one way to find out.” He grinned cheekily and went to take it from her but she shook her head, clicking her tongue; the sounds making his hands stop mid-air in confusion.
“Unlike the gift you’ve given me, this is in fact not part of any bigger gift.”
“So...” He raised his eyebrows as he gave her an expectant look to continue.
“So, you can’t open it... For now.” She added with a teasing tone in her voice and he let out a breathily chuckle, leaning back against the couch as if defeated.
She dragged the wrapped up painting to the other couch, leaning it against it before returning to her seat next to him, curling up her legs onto the couch and she took her mug to drink, unaware of the adoration and the loving gaze coming from him.
“What’s the other part of the gift?” She suddenly asked, remembering what he said about the bracelet being the smaller part of it and he laughed, throwing his head back at her question.
So Ah blinked at this, feeling her cheeks blushing at the melody of his happy sound. It was low but the good kind, not the one that sounds like Santa Clause but also not the one that sounds like a drill to the wall. It brought her serotonin from just hearing it; it was... Warm.
“Santa never reveals his gifts too early, buttercup.” Leon countered with a wink and she grumbled, pouting at him.
“Fair enough...”
✠✠
“Damn, the weight on this thing...”
Leon was back home, having to cover the gift with his jacket and book it to his house which wasn’t really that far – but running with a toddler weighted canvas under the pouring rain was just a whole ‘nother level of stress. Yeah, Leon was a hunk of a gorgeous man, but the jacket barely covered squat of the gift.
The second he was in the confines of his warm and dry house, he put down the canvas, breathing a little heavily at the tiny exercise he just did. Kicking off his boots, he hung the jacket and picked up the canvas to set it on the kitchen counter and inspected it.
The gift wrapper was a classic Christmas one – red with bells, reindeers, snowmen, Santa Clause and all that fun holiday stuff. Humming, he saw a folded card stuck to the top corner of the canvas and he opened it with his index and middle fingers.
Thought you’d like to have a piece of your safe space at home -Your Aphro-titty <3
A chuckle left through his lips at this, smiling at the small cute heart that she had drawn. Thinking about what to do, impatience ran its course and he found his fingers inching to the corner of the wrapper that was poking out; then his ringtone filled the empty space around him.
“Missed me already?” Leon teased, setting one hand on his hip with his eyes on the hidden canvas.
“Don’t act like you’re innocent!” So Ah scolded but he could hear the smile on her playful tone.
“What do you mean?”
“I see you through the window! You were going to open the gift, weren’t you?!”
He blinked at that and looked out of the window, seeing So Ah standing in her kitchen behind her window and gazing at him with a pout-smile – and he laughed.
“Ah, well aren’t you a stalker?” He moved close to the window, grinning smugly at her becoming flustered.
“It’s bad luck to open the gifts before Christmas.”
“Really? Says who?” He countered and she visibly looked surprised.
“Well... I... Isn’t that why we open gifts on Christmas and not before?” She asked, now confused as her eyes glanced off to the side then back at him.
“Who knows.” He shrugged before giving her a playful teasing smile, “But I’ll humour you this time.”
“It’s just... It’s better if you open it on Christmas...”She trailed away with a shy smile to which he chuckled at.
“I’m just kidding, So Ah. I’ll open it tomorrow, no promises though.” He winked at the end and she giggled but it was clear her attention was on something else.
“I’m trusting you on this one.” She pointedly said before looking to the side with distant eyes.
“Are you looking at those gifts again?”
Seeing her embarrassed eyes was an answer to his question.
“I just... Aren’t the bigger gifts supposed to be in the back?”
“Hey, everything’s going to be okay, alright?” He reassured her with a comforting smile.
During the time with her, he ended up suggesting putting the bigger boxes to the front with some small ones on top of it and the rest on the ground next to the bigger ones. It ended up looking eye-pleasing but her anxiety and need for perfection kept bugging her mind.
She took a deep breath and exhaled, nodding, “Alright... Yeah, you’re right... Maybe I should get some sleep.”
“Okay,” He straightened up with a sigh, “Good night, buttercup.”
“Good night, Leon.”
They both hung up with a smile and she waved timidly at him before walking off then the kitchen went dark. With now a lingering grin on his lips, he made his way back to the counter to pick up the canvas.
He went to the living room and propped it up against the wall. Curiosity was killing him on the inside at this point but he quickly made his way up to his bedroom whilst shaking his head.
“Not today.”
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