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jina-juhi · 10 months

Text

Birthday.

~Kim Namjoon x female reader.

Playlist for this vibe~

• Birthday by Ten.

• make me feel by Elvis drew.

• bad drugs by King Kavalier.

• codeine by solv

• dangerous hands by Austin Giorgio.

• your body by Jimmy brown, Rovv.

Authors note :- Hey guys this is jina, introducing @covertlydark, she's my friend and from now on we both will post our content on this page. hope y'all enjoy

• Reader's pov •

"Okay, This one?" my husband asks the same thing maybe for the sixth time for the night, his voice flat and heavy.

"Noo, we'll watch this some other day. I'm not feeling it right now." My voice lowered on its own at the end of my response when I heard his exhausted sigh. But he still manages to be patient with me.

"This one? This better be the one."

"Nope. Already watched this one."

"Without me?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Namjoon, we watched it together." I deadpan.

He scratches his head. "Oh yeah, right. I have an idea, you stay here to get ready, and decide which one you wanna watch while I prepare the table for us, the food is here and the cake is already waiting in the fridge."

"Okay." I smile at him and at the way his brain makes quick decisions and plans, a major contrast to my indecisiveness. He mirrors a smile and his lips brush against my cheeks and give me a quick kiss.

I bury my face in between his neck and shoulder, inhaling his fresh scent of soap and shade of spice and musk. My favorite combination. His mouth touches my bare shoulder and I can feel the curve in his lips against it.

"Go wash up, birthday girl." his husky voice and hot breath fell on my skin leaving a thrill in my spine.

"Be quick or I'll eat the cake myself!" he got up and sang on his way out of the bedroom. I shake my head at his goofiness and stretch my arms on the empty bed, squealing in content.

I hop into the shower and try my best with a little time in my hands. The insta-routine with all that exfoliating and shaving always takes a toll on a girl.

I hear the ringing on my phone after I'm dressed, Seojun's name on my screen, a friend who is also my senior colleague. A frown grew between my eyebrows because one thing that Seojun surely does not do is call after working hours.

I answer while I mindlessly flatten my black flowy dress and fiddle with my necklace, Namjoon gave me last night. It is the prettiest piece of jewelry I ever owned. He slipped it around my neck while I slept in his arms last night and I woke up with a shiny turquoise stone sitting on my chest.

"Happy birthday!" a scream drills my ears from the other side of the line and then an apology, not for me but for a really angry lady. I laugh at her carelessness. "Thank you for the wish, not for the hearing aid bill."

"Oh come on. Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday? I thought you were on leave because you were going somewhere. Jin told me with a cocky-ass grin on his face. I wanted to know it from you not him..." I tune out her blabbering.

I exhale a breath annoyed at the fact that I specifically warned him not to tell anyone. But it's too late now I think he went around the office with a banner of that information because I could hear my notification box exploding.

I don't like it when too many people know about my birthday. It gets overwhelming with all the wishes and responding to everyone with an equal amount of emotion so that the person wishing me does not think I am not grateful or something. I am. I really am, the thing is I don't know how to react to them.

My excitement for my birthday is as same as my excitement for hugging a porcupine. It is just a normal day for me, not for my husband. He is filling the gaps in my lacking enthusiasm because he has got tons of it.

"...and then you know what he told me? He told me that I am not that important to you!? the man really got some nerves to say that on my face. I swear-"

"Okay okay! Calm down. You can discuss him some other time." I huff.

She scoffs and then grumbles, "no one wants to discuss him. Well anyways, I'll be out of your hair. You must be getting ready to go out, right?" exciting curiosity enters her voice. "I mean of course you are. You are THE party girl after all. Wear something sexy, that husband of yours will fall for you all over again..."

Wow, sometimes I forget about how much she talks.

"Seojun, we're not going out. We are just celebrating at home. I wanted to keep it small and simple." I cut in between her chattering.

"Oh." she was speechless after the 'oh'. I know she tried her best to make it sound less pitiful but well she failed. Yes, I've always been the party girl but I guess people change.

I didn't want to go through all that hassle of going out and posting pictures just because I am supposed to do so. I'll do all that when it feels right and when I'm in the mood to go to some fancy restaurant.

"Okay. Well, enjoy your evening. Happy Birthday again." The call ends after I thank her and assure her to call later.

Maybe I'm feeling this because I'm not in my twenties anymore. Am I getting boring? The past-me would be so disappointed, in her eyes, the present-me is lame and boring. If anyone hears this in the office maybe they'll think the same.

You are not fun anymore.

My subconscious screams. I should not have forced Namjoon to stay in today I should have listened to him. What if he thinks-

"Y/N!" I hear his voice anchoring me to earth. "I called your name three times. You okay?" he looks at me with concern but I mask my face with a smile.

"Yes. Just thinking...which one of these should I wear?" I hold up two pairs of earrings while he closed the distance between us in just two long strides.

He changed into a black shirt- with sleeves folded, shriveled up to his elbows- and black pants, looking handsome as ever even in something so simple like this. His hair was perfectly set, not blocking the view of his gorgeous face. He always leaves me mesmerized.

He wraps strong arms around my waist and tugs me closer to him, and uncountable butterflies escape dancing in my stomach. Even after five years of our marriage, he pulls out that effect on me that I know would be the same forever. Every touch, every kiss is like a first. Better than the first.

"The gold ones." his full lips touch my forehead reaping my tiny smile. "Now tell me what is really going on inside this head." he kisses the same spot again.

I sigh against his chest. "How do you always know?" I squint my eyes at him earning his soft laugh.

"Always." he simply shrugs.

He waits patiently for me while I contemplate what to say. "Am I getting boring or... lame?" the question sitting on the tip of my tongue finally made it to my lips.

He frowns and searches for my eyes but I settle them on his chest, and so do my palms. "What makes you think that?" his deep voice pins me with a question. I shrug to lighten the mood, "Nothing it's just the birthday blues hitting me. You know how I was, I used to be the girl who looked forward to going all out and having fun on birthdays. And now... I just don't feel that way."

I finally look him in the eyes and he looks at me with his soft ones with an understanding look. "Now I absolutely feel like I'm getting old." I chuckle lightly.

"Hey... you are not lame or boring. We still go out and have fun when we feel like it. Sometimes I feel the same way, to stay at home and have a good quality evening, just the two of us. That does not mean we are boring people. It simply means we can enjoy ourselves no matter what age we are or the setting is. We are just normal people in our thirties, having fun together in our own way." he finishes with a firm steady voice making me believe every word he said and cherish it, tattooed on my heart.

"Normal people," I whisper out repeating it in my head with a smile. My chest balloons with emotions. He makes me look at things from different perspectives. Good perspectives. He is the anchor of my ship in the vast sea and I will forever be grateful to him.

Now both of us smile. A real one with no masks. He hugs me tightly, healing every tiniest crack in my soul.

"Also," he moves his nose and traces along my neck to my ear. His hot breath rushes on my skin making me twitch with giddiness. "...I don't think boring people do things we do in bed or... kitchen or bathroom. Especially not the ones we did last night and this morning."

My breath gets caught. Eyes wide and lips parted at his low tone. My head replaying what he just reminded me. White silk sheets, whispered promises, his heavy breaths and grunts, his hands tracing the goosebumps of my skin, his tongue on my—

Heat rushes to the south of my body and my face. He breaks the hug to have a good look at my face and fucking laughs at my state.

I suppress my smile and slap on his buff chest. "Now if you are done thinking about obscene things then let's go I have something to show you." he covers my eyes and starts guiding me through the hallway.

"Nomjoon I don't think covering my eyes is necessary."

"Shh. Ofcourse it is. Just walk." We enter and stop in I suppose the living room.

"Okay now, ready?" He finally says.

"Yes!"

He removes his hand and back hugs me while I open my eyes taking in the view of the living room. I gasp at the beautiful set-up he arranged, a canopy decorated with tiny fairy lights and cushions scattered under it and my favorite duvet.

He set the dinner table with plates and my favorite food, a bottle of red wine and glasses sitting next to them. Bunch of scented candles here and there, radiating warmth and light in the darkest of corners just like he fills my life, my soul, with his presence.

"Happy birthday, baby."

The pressure builds behind my eyes and in my throat constricting my words. I blink a few times to drive out the moisture in my eyes.

He settles his chin on my shoulder maybe waiting for me to say something but I'm speechless at his gesture.

"You like it?"

Like? "I love it, Namjoon. All this... It's so beautiful." my voice shakes with emotions.

"Thank you. So much. This is perfect." he turns me towards him, "glad you love it."

I lace my hands on his neck, raise on my tip-toes to make up for our height difference, and lock my lips with his soft ones. He sucks in a breath and yanks me flushed against him to deepen the kiss. His sweet taste invade my tongue.

Namjoon groans, and his hand fist the locks of my hair. His lips glide on mine and our chests glued to each other running out of oxygen. He brushes his lips against mine one last time. Breaking the kiss before it gets heated and we end up in the bed like always.

"I love you," I say in a daze.

"I love you." He says back his eyes gleaming in the candlelight and his face glowing with a golden tint. He is fucking perfect. He completes me. Every crevice in my life. We complete each other.

We sat at the table for our evening candlelight dinner. He opened the wine bottle with the cork opener and poured the content, an action that had no right to be that sexy.

"Enjoying the show?" he raises an eyebrow at me.

I hide my smile behind the glass. "Hmm, maybe." I sip the rich red liquid while soaking in the hard work he put into all this. "How did you do all this on your own? How long was I in there, four hours?"

He rasps out a laugh. "One hour. You were in there for one hour, thank god i completed it way before you walking in on me trying really hard to figure out how the hell am i supposed to hang that thing." He gestures towards the dreamy canopy. I would have loved watching him do that.

"Do you know what the most shocking part is? I didn't break anything today." He jokes. "Wow, that's a new record. I'm impressed, Mr. Kim." Our chatter and laughter mingles with the cozy air around us. We finish off what I call, the best meal I had in a long time. He sang me the birthday song while I cut the cake, his goofy playful side returning to him.

These are the little moments I treasure the most in our relationship. No grand gestures, no phones, no office talk, just us. I'll never be tired of this. Of him.

We settle ourselves under the canopy net after dinner. He brought his laptop to watch some k-drama or a movie. "Decided what you want to watch?" he asks me. "Yeah. Since today is Monday I think the new episode of the one we were watching is out by now. I'm so excited to watch that only three episodes are left."

We cuddle under the duvet. I feel safest and comfortable when he cuddles up and grips his arms around my tummy.

His chest moves subtly against my back. I feel every rumble in his torso when he laughs at something comedic. I barely pay attention to the drama. I miss reading the subtitles when the main character said something important about the story. I rewind the scene, "sorry I missed what he said."

He hums and kisses on top of my head. The scene replays but I get distracted yet again when my husband ran his hand on my stomach to my hip, giving it a squeeze before resting it there.

Well, this was not the first time. It is almost normal now. Almost, because every time he gets my mind fogged up.

I replay the scene again this time without saying anything and he too stays quiet. His hand grazes the texture of my dress, resting right on the curve of my thigh.

My mind is blank. Laser focused on his touch. And for the third time, I watch the same thing.

Great. Fucking great. I can't even read the damn subtitles.

"Can't read the subtitles, honey?" he reads my thought in a subtle mocking tone above my ear and my chest tightens.

"He is... talking too fast it's impossible to read that much within seconds." I justify after clicking pause on the screen. He hums in response in a way of saying, 'yeah right'. Not buying any shit. "What? unlike you, I have to pay attention to both the subtitles and the scenes."

Of course, living with him I have improved my Korean but I am not perfect at it.

He chuckles in his deep voice which always sinks into my heart, as deep as it is. "He barely said ten words." And just like that, I'm caught. Thick silence surrounds us, turning up the anticipation.

His lips skim over my neck. I am quiet but the sounds of our breathing fill the air.

He kisses the soft spot on my neck while his hand moves further to the hem of my dress. It takes him no time to find out that I'm already wet for him because I skipped wearing my underwear.

I exhale sharply when his cold fingers swipe between my folds. He groans in my neck, "Fuck. No underwear?" His voice is strained and breathy sending a shiver down my body. "There is no point in wearing one." I manage between my pants and focus back on his fingers working in the slowest circles.

"You're gonna kill me if you keep saying things like that so innocently."

I turn towards him to meet his mouth with mine. He props himself over me. His tall frame consumes my short one. His warmth radiates in the deepest of my soul, renewing it.

He takes away his fingers and I almost cry at the loss of contact. I whimper between our kisses. Namjoon kissed me the same as he fucks me, rough with a burning passion. Claiming me all over again.

"Take this off." He commands tugging on the cloth and making me sit. I collect my hair to side them and he took the hint to unzip me. He drags the zipper down taking his sweet time, his way of saying- you're not getting what you crave so easily.

In a quick slide, the dress comes off leaving me naked and at his mercy. The fact that I am completely bare before him and he is still in his clothes is so unfair and a fucking turn-on. I can feel myself dripping down. We haven't even started yet.

My eyes flicker down to his pants a huge bulge down his waist. I palm his erection and rub it until his breaths become short and fast. I fumble with the button and the zip to free him.

In a quick movement, he pins my hand above my head making me lay down on my back. The light from the fairy light makes his eyes glimmer. He stares down at me and I can feel the love he holds for me. A love without judgments and conditions.

"Today is all about you."

We exchange a smile. He peppers open mouth kisses on my chest. My heart thumps louder between my lungs. His tongue smooths over my skin offering my breasts his much-needed attention. His tongue flicks, licks, and laps on my hardened nipples making me moan, and giving me intense pleasure in every way possible. His hand made up for the other one twisting it between his fingers.

He reaches to my belly unhurriedly caressing the goosebumps. Sending a buzz of electricity in my body. Every touch, every caress is always filled with possession and lust.

He moves further down stopping just above the part of me begging for his touch. He lifts his head to look at me with a devilish glint.

"Click on the play button." He says.

"What?" I blurt out loudly, it sounds funny. I would have laughed at myself but I decide not to. His smile gets wider.

"Just do what I say, Y/N."

My heart will do anything he says if he takes my name in such a way. I click play and the scenes continue. I look back at him and raise my eyebrows at him to say something that's going on in his wicked mind. But instead of any explanation, he dips his head between my legs and I watch his tongue poke out to flick on my clit sending a jolt of electricity in me. He cursed under his breath when he watched how i reacted.

"You take your eyes off the screen, I take my tongue off of your sweet little pussy." He pins me with a playful look.

"But that isn't fair." My voice wavers.

"It... is" between his words, he licks a thick strip with his tongue from my wet entrance to the sensitive apex with a torturous slow speed and my mind staggers in response.

With hooded eyes I watch his beautiful lips curve up in a smirk as if he can see through my poor soul, what effect that action had in my mind, clear as a sky and the sun of reasoning clouded in an instant.

Well, he will always know what effect he has on me. Also, the sight of his face- with that wicked gleam in his eyes- between my legs, I can't expect anything else.

And I lay in a frenzy no longer able to decide what's fair and what isn't, all I wanted was his tongue on me for a lot longer than it just was.

He tips his head towards the laptop silently commanding me to focus my eyes on it, knowing me very well that I won't argue anymore.

I do what he said. Now, all I can feel is his tongue lapping on the sensitive skin making my whole body shudder and moan under his spell. He pushes one finger inside me. Perfect pressure against my walls. The sensation runs through me like an electric current. Heighten every nerve ending on its way.

The power of a slowly building orgasm force my head to watch what he's doing to me and when I turn, his sharp eyes are already watching me like a hawk.

He stops.

He fucking stopped. All that I was just feeling ruined like a sand castle in a wind. A useless heap of sand was all that was left.

"Need another chance, baby?" he speaks up cheekily. I am mad. Annoyed. It probably shows on my face because he rasps out a laugh looking at me. I will keep this in mind when he is at my mercy.

"Yes."

Yes is all I can say. He resumes working on my pussy after I avert my eyes to the screen barely paying attention to the story. The tip of his tongue flicks on my swollen nub and my hands clutch on the cushion for my dear life. Head trying to stay put.

Soon he adds a second finger and then a third while sucking on my clit. Speeding up and edging me towards oblivion. My breathing is harsh, familiar feeling lingering at the base of my spine.

Long gone the soft moans, and screams of pleasure left my throat. My eyes flutter close on their own.

"Eyes on me now." His voice laced with pure lust and... Oh God, the contact of his heated gaze tips me off the edge. And I come. Hard. While chanting his name and whispering how good he makes me feel. Free falling into bliss.

"That's it. Good girl." He wisphers lowly with a strained voice. My body mourns the loss of his fingers. He looks at me and licks his fingers clean, tasting me. God, this man will be the death of me.

I pant, my chest falls and rises dramatically to catch my breath. It feels like I was drowning and I just made it to the surface.

He closes the laptop with a flip. I'm still in a trance when I hear the clank of his belt. I watch him settling between my legs, opening his button and zipper to free himself from the constraint. Pushing his pants slightly down. My fingers clutched his soft hair. My heart skips a couple of beats waiting and eager for him, banging on my ribs trying to leap out.

He placed the tip of his hard cock ready to be inside me but still not giving in, making me whimper. He kisses me, burning with desire, silent permission for carrying on what we started. He pauses to look me in the eye.

"How do you want me, hm? Gentle... or do you want me to fuck you hard?"

My breath got stuck somewhere in my lungs. Without breaking the trance of his gaze, I snake my hand down to hold his cock, pushing just the tip inside me. "Fuck me. Harder." I say, earning his amused-proud smile.

He sits upright and lifts my right leg to anchor it on his broad shoulder. He pushes inside me completely, inch by inch with a steady pace. It warms my heart that even if i gave him permission to be rough with me he knows It always takes me time to adjust to his sheer size. Both of us moan because of how fucking good it makes us feel. Bodies shuttering as he finally moves once i am ready.

This time he thrusts so hard it knocks the air out of my lungs. His hand trails up my stomach to my breasts, pinching my hard sensitive nipple making me cry out his name.

"Tell me, still think the things we do are boring?" He wraps his hand around my neck with a firm delicious pressure while the other one plays with my breast.

I shake my head unable to voice out coherent words. All I can do is float in the magic he creates. I reach out for him but he is a bit far. He slows down and frees my legs and guides my arms around his neck to be closer to me. He kisses me as if it has been days without it, picking up the pace where he left off.

He is still clothed. The picture of his clothed body over my naked one doing the most intimate things is erotic to me.

Though I want to touch him. Feel him. Closer than we already are. My hands fly toward the buttons of his shirt. Undoing each one of them until my hands find their home.

His muscles ripple and his body shudders when I drag my touch slowly to the south. Feeling every curve of his criminally toned body, finally reaching his ass to feel the intensity of his thrusts. He groans out a curse.

"See what you fucking do to me? You make me so impatient, can't even wait to undress before I fuck my wife's tight pussy."

He slams inside me with immense force. I sob hearing him say these things with such ease. No holding back. His dark side resurface with teasing words laced with sin itself, pouring out of his smart intellectual mouth. It always leaves me in awe.

"Namjoon..." I can't recognize my voice as I moan his name breathlessly.

"I'm so– so close, please." Tears leave my eyes as the plea leaves my lips. His thrusts become more rough and harder. His fingers reach my clit. Firm strokes and overstimulation finally cracks through me. i surrender to the climax for the second time this evening. I lost my count for the day as our morning started early today.

"I've got you. I've always got you, baby."

My walls squeeze him tight. He grunts with every jerk. With a louder moan he finishes and empties himself inside me. I love watching him loose control, how his beautiful face twists while he gives in to the pleasure. The way his heavy breaths fall on my skin. It makes my heart swell to watch him like that. A sheen of sweat makes him sparkle. Both our bodies limp as the energy drains out along with our shattering orgasms.

He pulls out and lays beside me. He grabs a tissue and gently cleans up the hot mess we made. He always insists on doing that even after my half hearted protests.

Securing his strong arms around me he brings me closer to his heaving chest. "Tired?" He asks in a whisper while kissing lightly on my shoulder.

I weekly nod to answer. "Really? I was thinking of another round," he says and we laugh wrapped into each other, both knowing that none of us barely have the energy left to move.

"Enough orgasms for today, Mr. Kim." I mumble. I turn towards him to hug him properly. The back rubs, his breathing and the beats of his heart makes my body relax without any effort.

"So how was your birthday?" his chest vibrates with his question.

I place a kiss on his heart and with a satisfied smile I answer, "The best I ever had."

• Author's note

~ Written by @covertlydark

Hope you like it. Do tell me in the comments if this gave you butterflies lol... or you know somthin' close to it. <3

#kpop #fanfic #bts imagines #bts army #bts rm #bts smut #bangtan #kim namjoon #bts fic

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1kook · 3 years

Text

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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bubbletaeeee · 2 years

Text

Opposites Attract - Kim Minjeong x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes 🥺

Content: slight angst, a lot of fluff

Warnings: none 😊

A/N: I think my writing is getting better huh? I hope you like this, my motivation hasn’t been good recently but i found the energy to do this 🥺💕

Word count: 1726

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blaring ringing of your alarm awoke you from your peaceful slumber.

Gosh 7:00am, you were exhausted.

Another late night drowning in piles of unfinished work.

You knew you couldn’t hop a day off school so you dragged yourself out of bed and got yourself up and ready.

You threw your headphones around your neck and hung your bag from your shoulder.

Grabbing a quick snack to go you rushed out the door.

It was a short walk to school but it felt so tiring because of the lack of sleep throughout the night.

Once you’d entered the gates of your school, you decided to slow down a bit to avoid wasting any little energy you had left for today, eventually you made your way to your locker and took out a couple of books from your bag to store in there, this makes it a lot easier to get around when your bag feels much lighter and comfortable.

Closing your locker with a worn out sigh, you turned to observe the slow crowd of students roam the corridor. Sometimes the noise of tons of other people bickering and talking would give you a little anxiety so to ease the nerves, you set your headphones onto your ears and pressed play on your playlist.

It was amazing how much music could relieve such worries and emotions.

You hung your head, facing down as you made your way through the crowd of people which actually wasn’t too bad now that a little time had passed.

Until you bumped into someone, you snapped into reality and realised you’d knocked someone’s books out of their hands and onto the floor.

You immediately put your headphones around your neck and frantically picked up their books.

You panicked out an apology before standing to give them back their books.

But you froze when you saw the girl in front of you.

It was Winter.

You bumped into winter.

Her smile was soft and she eased your worries by assuring you it’s okay before taking back her books.

You just stood and stared as she walked away, almost like you’d seen a ghost.

She was beautiful, and she’s the most popular girl in school. Of course!

Have you seen her?

She’s got the most perfect sparkly brown eyes, gorgeous silky smooth hair, her lips were captivating, the cutest, squishiest cheeks, and her body stunning.

Everyone could see she was breathtaking.

She was no cliche little cheerleader captain who dated a million guys or used an army of gullible girls or picked on innocent people to satisfy her bullying frenzies. She was just sweet, beautiful and loved to talk to everyone, and she was well known to be good at dancing and singing.

She did have a small group of girls who were closest to her, Ningning, Karina and Giselle, but from what you could tell they were just as kind.

There was definitely no way you could score yourself with such flawlessness, never in a million years.

You’re lucky if anyone really noticed you. All you did was listen to music and quietly get on with your work, no one really saw you around at lunch times either because you’re usually sitting somewhere outside by yourself, reading books and listening to music.

Anyway… you were snapped out of your thoughts when the school bell rang. That’s when you realised you stood alone in the corridor, no other student around you.

You instinctively cussed to yourself and sprinted to your English class.

Once you’d stormed into class, embarrassment washed over you once all eyes were on YOU.

There was one seat left… directly in front of winter.

I guess you had no choice but to sit there.

So you did. Avoiding eye contact with ANYONE, you sat down and tried to pretend like it never happened and got your book out.

Skipping forward to half way through the lesson…

Your teacher demanded you all get into pairs to complete a piece of work together.

You looked around, realising that no one was picking you and that you actually didn’t have any friends here.

A tap on your shoulder made you instantly turn around.

Once again, you were faced with a figure of perfection. A distinctive shade of red appeared in your cheeks when she quietly asked, "you wanna work with me?".

Your stomach filled with nerves, you barely stuttered out an answer in return, "s-sure, thank you", to which you nervously laughed to yourself, scooting your chair around to face her table.

"Okay you write down some ideas and I’ll write down some of my own yeah?", she ordered nicely.

Afraid to say actual words in case you make a fool of yourself, you just nodded and began to write on a scrap piece of paper, although your hands were a little shaky in her presence.

You were trying to focus so hard on writing that you didn’t realise when she wasn’t writing.

After a while you slowly looked up to find her watching you.

Both of your eyes met with eachother and once again you froze..

Her stare made you so weak and nervous.

You built up the confidence to ask, “uhh… a-are you okay?”, she smiled warmly and responded, “yeah, I’m okay”, her eyes never left yours, and her tone is so soft and soothing.

You could’ve fallen completely weak right there and then.

But then… your moment ended when the blaring sound of the bell interrupted it.

"Okay class, we will continue this next lesson", You heard the teacher announce from behind you.

Quickly gathering your things, you stumbled out of the class and outside to one of the benches under a blossom tree.

It felt so tranquil and peaceful out here and you always loved to just sit and watch as birds flew past, as the leaves fell delicately, as the clouds glided across the baby blue sky.

You sighed with relief and pulled out a book.

You read silently, letting yourself drift off into your own relaxing fairytale land of stories.

You were so engrossed into the story that you didn’t even feel an extra weight sit next to you until the silence was broken by a sweet voice, “what are you reading”

You closed the book in an instant and turned to your right to see the soft smile of an angel, and that angel was winter.

That rosey shade of red appeared in your cheeks upon seeing her adorable expression.

Another anxious laugh escaped your lips, “how come you’re out here… a-aren’t you usually with your friends?”.

She giggled and turned to face you, “yeah, but I guess I just felt like being out here”.

You looked down into your lap, playing with your fingers shyly.

She just chuckled upon noticing your cute little habit, “do I make you feel nervous?”, she spoke up, this just made you blush even more and cover your face with your hands.

She wasn’t sure if she accidentally made you feel even more anxious so she gently placed her hand on your shoulder and comforted you, “it’s okay, if you are nervous you don’t have to be, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”, god! Her words were so sweet and they actually convinced you to remove your hands from your face to turn and see that her face was a lot closer to yours than you realised.

Your heart was pounding in your chest and without meaning to, your eyes wandered to her lips, honestly you just couldn’t help it, the urge was uncontrollable, you could also smell the hypnotising scent of her perfume and it was driving you crazy.

The moment was silent but short because she was the one to break the silence once again, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but… I think that you’re really pretty”.

Wait… did she just compliment you?

Your breath hitched and you visibly stopped breathing.

“Is this real?”, you whispered to yourself, truthfully you didn’t realise you said it out loud to yourself until she giggled and answered your question, “yes y/n, I’m real, this is real”, she shook her head laughing.

Your eyes widened at the realisation that you really did say it out loud.

You frantically attempted to pick up your things to leave the situation as quick as possible.

It was quite hard when you were dropping your things. This was so embarrassing! You wished the ground would just swallow you up and save you.

Winter could see your panic and struggling so she picked up your books and stood calmly in front of you.

“Y/n stop panicking, I’m not going to judge you for anything, come on let me walk you to your next class”, once again, you believed every single word that fell from her beautiful mouth.

Still holding your books close to her, she asked what class you had next and patiently listened when you gave her an answer. she guided you to your next class.

Luckily it weren’t that far, so there was no long, painful awkward silence.

Once you’d got to class she handed you back your books kindly and when she didn’t leave you asked her, “so… are you going to class now?”, she smiled and handed you a small note and headed off to her own class, sending you a wink just before she left.

With your free hand, you looked at the note to see a number that looked like a phone number with a little heart on the end.

She gave you her number?!

And she just winked at you?

She wasn’t too far away yet just after you read the note so you dropped your things on the floor next to the door carefully and caught up to her, hugging her from behind. You were so happy that you didn’t even have a moment to think about being shy right now.

She just placed her hands onto yours which were tight around her abdomen and chuckled.

The slightly taller girl spun around to face you and gave you a tender, precious kiss to the cheek which lingered for a while, “good luck with class cutie”, she spoke with a quiet, soft tone and once again turned to walk away.

You couldn’t help the squeal that left your lips once she turned the corner.

#kpop #kpop girls #fanfic #kpop imagines #fluff #aespa #aespa kpop #kpop angst #aespa winter #kim minjeong #high school romance #high school crush #opposites attract #aespa x reader #gxg imagine #shy reader #lgbtq

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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Note

I’m so excited your requests are open!!! Can I request a blurb of rough sex with Charlie where he throws around and manhandles his girlfriend (it’s all safe and consensual). I just know he’s a bit burly dude who would have no problem picking up his girlfriend with one arm

Watch Your Mouth

C.W. x FEM!READER

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, manhandling, size kink, tummy bulge, praise kink, sub!reader/dom!Charlie, mentions of edging, spanking, overstimulation, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it before you tap it), kind of subspace (nothing too intense), also unedited because i am lazy ✋🏻😔

“But it hurts.” You whined into your boyfriend's ear.

Subtlety was fading fast in your act, after Charlie spent all night last night teasing you with the idea of an orgasm but never actually letting you get there you were far past the point of just horny.

Charlie placed a warning hand on your thigh, fingers gripping the flesh tight enough to have you squirming, “Eat your food and behave.”

His tone was husky, whispers harsh as he tried to keep you at bay in front of his family. Perhaps dinner at the Weasley’s- a usual Friday event- wasn’t the best place to start acting up but really it was Charlie’s fault. He had to have known his teasing would result in something of this sort.

You also knew his hand could be heavy when he wanted it to be, spanks from Charlie always left a mark that could be felt for days following. So you listened to him, quietly picking at your roast as your mind wandered to what might be in store for you once you two got home.

“Yeah, better get going, it’s getting rather late.” Charlie announced as he stood up from the couch, your hand in his.

You had to restrain from vibrating with excitement as you stood up next to Charlie, your head barely reaching his broad shoulders.

Everyone bid farewell to you two, a longer exchange than you would’ve liked but you managed. Finally Charlie pulled you into his side, tucking you under his arm as he appareled you two to your flat- after the war he wanted to move closer to his family and you had no complaints.

Leaning on the hardwood floor of your living room, you stumbled a bit only to be grabbed by Charlie. His arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up and off your feet, carrying you to the bedroom. He grunted through the doorframe, making sure he wasn’t going to hit your head on the wall as he passed through before tossing you onto the bed. Upon hitting the mattress your body bounced roughly, only adding fuel to the fire of your excitement.

Charlie pulled his boots off hastily, hands moving to unbutton his shirt and fling it somewhere in the room to be retrieved later for you to wear. In just a pair of tight black boxer briefs and a single silver chain dangling between his pecs, a dragon tooth at the end.

You watched him with wide eyes, breath hitching as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over with ease. His palm, open and heavy, rested on your plump backside. You panicked, trying to turn around to face him, because you knew what that meant but you thought you had been a good girl.

“But I was good.” You whined trying to move your butt away from him.

He tutted, pulling your hips back to where they were, “You were good...after I had to tell you to behave, and now you’re questioning me.”

“Because I was good. If you hadn’t been mean, not letting me cum, then I wouldn’t have been so needy. S’your fault.”

The silence was deafening and you realized you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“My fault?” Charlie questioned, his voice unnervingly calm.

You shook your head quickly, trying to back track as best you could, “No, no no, I didn’t- I’m sorry, I’m your good girl, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “My good girl wouldn’t blame me for her being a horny slag. My good girl wouldn’t question my authority. My good girl would take her punishment, but no. You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?”

Charlie didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead grabbing the material of your tights and quite literally tearing them apart, exposing your g-string and soaking cunt. He continued to rip and tear your tights until whatever was left didn’t have enough structure to stay on, he picked up the pieces and tossed them to the floor before roughly tugging your shirt and bra off.

There was a moment of silence again, as Charlie adjusted the rings on his fingers. You barely allowed yourself to calm down before he was sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbing you by the waist to roughly pull you across his lap. The action made you squeal, your legs kicking up in an attempt to stall the punishment that was coming. He wasn’t having it, forcing your legs under his thick thigh to keep them out of the way before playing with the thin string that made up the back of your thong. You let out a muffled whine as he pulled on it, lifting it up and making the front of your panties rub against your throbbing clit then letting it go, snapping it against your skin.

“Only thing I wanna hear out of your mouth are apologies after every swat. Understood?” He asked, hand running across the globes of your ass.

You nodded, not wanting to anger him further.

“So you do know how to watch your fucking mouth, good.”

You had little time to prepare before his hand came down onto your backside with a painful sting sending pools of arousal straight to your core.

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

Another swat hit your warm flesh, then another, and another. With each slap apologies fell passed your lips along with muffled cries, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

Forty spanks later your butt was beet red and practically numb, his ring clad hand massaging the raw skin making you whimper. He dipped his hand down to your core, running two fingers up your slit collecting your juices before teasing your entrance making you jolt. His other arm came down to keep you still as his fingers entered you, making your walls clench. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the moans as he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, alternating between fast thrusts and massaging the spongey spot that made your vision go fuzzy.

You gripped his calf tightly as your orgasm neared, your legs started shaking and you could only hope he’d let you finally get off. Only you weren’t so lucky, Charlie pulled his hand away quickly watching as you writhed around in his lap.

“You wanna cum? I’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.”

His hand dove back in between your legs, this time with an unbelievably fast pace making you let out loud, wanton cries. Charlie’s arm pressed down on your hips firmly, giving you no wiggle room as your toes curled and eyes screwed shut, orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You were shoved onto the bed as you heaved, Charlie having no trouble moving your from place to place without your cooperation. He got down on his knees, eye level with your pussy clenching pathetically around nothing.

Making sure you were still sensitive from your first climax, he was quick to dive into your weeping cunt. Tongue lapping at your glistening folds and nose nudging your clit, your twitching was uncontrollable as he was relentless with his mouth. Your hands tangled themselves in his deliciously wavy red mane as his copper beard rubbed the insides of your thighs raw.

You were unable to form coherent sentences, choked cries, waterlogged moans, and desperate pleas were the only things leaving your lips. Charlie gripped your thighs tightly, keeping them open after they had started to close around his head. You came again, loud sobs sounding through the room as he continued his torturous lapping at your cunt only to pull away seconds after your second orgasm hit you to aggressively rub at your clit.

“Go on, cum, you were begging for this.”

The back and forth motion only got faster as you tried to close your thighs and push his hand away, a third orgasm washing over you before you could even realize. Charlie pulled his hand away after giving your clit a harsh slap making you cry out again.

Charlie took his time peeling off his briefs, his prick taut against his abdomen with precum leaking from the mouth watering tip. He had always had a rather gorgeous cock, the lively red of the spongey head contrasting the creamy beige of the shaft had you clenching your legs in need. You’d never say no to that no matter how worn out or sensitive you were, he was just far too beautiful. But the sheer size alone had excited nerves mixing in your belly, regardless of how often you’ve seen him nude. His tip was dangerously close to his navel, and not only was he gifted with length but his veiny cock was girthy- never failing to stretch your aching pussy out just how you liked it.

You watched as his hand gave a few languid strokes to himself before your eyes traveled over the expanse of his torso. His skin was dappled with countless freckles and a few scars scattered here and there from misbehaving dragons or rowdy brothers, most of the time his sheer size as a human had your walls convulsing. Charlie was big, he was tall but by no means lanky, his thighs were deliciously thick along with his biceps, his entire being painted in the likeness of Norse mythology’s Thor.

“How cute, my little girl is staring.” Charlie teased, hand abandoning his cock and coming closer to you on the bed again.

He gripped your hips with his large hands, pulling you up onto your knees with your ass in the air. You were too tired to hold your head up, opting to rest it on the mattress instead as you watched Charlie - as best you could from this position- as he paced a hand on the still raw skin of your backside. You didn’t need a mirror to know that a few visible handprints would be left on the skin for a while. The cool feeling of his hand on the skin made you jolt forward, but Charlie hunched over carefully and placed a handful of feathery kisses on the tender skin- you could’ve sworn the pain started to subside immediately at the contact.

You whimpered as you felt him start to prod at your entrance, he chuckled at the way you wiggled your butt back into him hoping for more. Giving you what you wanted, he pushed in all the way, careful to go slow keeping in mind that he was rather large.

“Look at you, taking m’cock so well.” He grunted, bottoming out.

Cries emitted from your parted lips as you nodded into the sheets, words and sentences long gone as he started to thrust. You knew what was in store, and it only made your moans and chants of Charlie that much louder. It was no secret he had stamina, a product of his insatiable libido was usually you getting to cum twice before Charlie even thought of filling you up himself. Seeing as tonight you had already trembled through two, four and five seemed a bit daunting- but you need it.

He quickened his pace, eagerly thrusting into your tight cunt as his voice started to crack with each grunt and groan before looping an arm around your midsection and pulling your back flush against his chest. The new position had your head lulling back, pornographic moans crooning from your mouth and into his neck. Your hand came up to make its way the back of Charlie’s head, fingers carding through the copper curls at the nape of his neck as his hips snapped up into you at a hellish pace. His hand, the one not occupied with holding you up, moved to rest on your lower belly wanting to feel the way your tummy bulged with each of his thrusts. You were so tiny compared to him, so dainty, and it made his thrusts get that much harder.

His breath fanned over your ear and neck as he spoke huskily, “Such a tight little cunt f’me, can feel my cock in your belly.”

You hummed in response, his hand pulling yours down to rest where his was just moments before. The outline of his dick, each time he thrusted, running up the inside of your palm making you clench around him.

“S’like I’m gonna slit you in two, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

With pathetic cries and nods you answered, “Yes, want you t’split me in two, need it.”

Orgasm number four hit you before you could even register what was happening but Charlie didn’t slow his thrusts, instead dropping a hand to your pulsing clit to rub rough circles and the engorged nub. His other hand, still holding you up, shifted so he could grab a handful of your breast, pinching and pulling at your erect nipples as best he could while he kept you upright. The overstimulation had you seeing stars, orgasm number five was already knocking on your door ready to come barreling in. At some point, your not sure when seeing as your mind was foggy from your fast approaching orgasm, Charlie had doubled over with your body firmly held in his arms as his hips continued to thrust into your weeping pussy at lightning speed, your back still held tightly against his chest only now your chin was hitting the mattress with each rough thrust.

You could register the stuttering of his thrusts meaning he was nearing his own release and you could finally let go for a fifth time. The weight of his body on top of yours mixed in with his forearm pressing into your abdomen and fingers massaging your clit while his balls were slapping against your glistening and used pussy had your body trembling uncontrollably in his grasp. Charlie gave a choked moan of your name as he finished deep inside you, your body spasming along with the walls of your cunt as you came with him.

Charlie held you to his chest still, but shifted so he was now on his side and you were no longer taking any of his weight. Slowly he went to pull out of you, making you whimper at the feeling, your over used cunt far too sensitive for the movement.

“Shh, you’re ok,” He cooed, gentling running a palm down the side of your face and through your hair. “Gotta get you cleaned up, yeah? Then I want my best girl’s cuddles, ok?”

His voice was gently, coaxing you to open your eyes and look at him as you answered with a feeble nod, “Ok, then cuddles...” you murmured.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinblack003

@maybesandohnos

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley smut #charlie weasley blurb #charlie weasley x reader

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captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

traitor

Summary: It was only one night, no strings attached, just two friends working through their grief together. Steve went to live his life with Peggy and within two weeks of returning, he peacefully passed. Unimaginable things happen everyday, jokes have negative consequences, and protection doesn’t always protect from the possibility… the possibility of carrying a child. He would have stayed if he knew, everyone agrees with this, so why is the world calling Steve Rogers a traitor?

One-Shot (with a happy ending)

Pairing(s): Avengers x Fem Reader; brief Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Warnings: Unexpected pregnancy; serious talks about abortion; brief mention of suicide (if you squint); mentions of Endgame deaths; strong language; minor descriptions of actual birth; ANGST but with a happy ending! This is purely fanfiction.

Word Count: 6,600+

A/N: So, Olivia Rodrigo’s album just came out and dude, jfc every song is magical. like... wtf. This is essentially a ‘song fanfic’, but ehhhh not quite. The lyrics don’t match the fanfic lmao but the melody does??? idk this is a shit ton of angst, be warned. It was from a request I got a while back, so this is kind of a request fanfic.

Up until the moment Steve pressed his soft lips to yours, you were certain you had never experienced such a wonderful sensation of magic. You had been witness to actual magic, to beings from other worlds, and yet Steve’s gentle touch was enough to erase any other image, to completely overpower your senses, a kind of magic that dug deep into the trenches of your heart and settled in its new home.

No, you and Steve were not a couple. There were some flirty remarks over the years, some fantasies that lay dormant, but there was never the craving to actually act upon them. But when half the world disappeared and the remaining Avengers came up with a plan five years later, the loss of a teammate prompted the sudden push of two touch-starved individuals. The rest of the team had gone to sulk in their own corners of the compound, some hard at work at constructing the final piece to the puzzle, and you and Steve ventured off to the kitchen. Two cups of tea each, silent but heavy tears mixing in with the sugar and milk.

You were the first to break, shoulders crumbling and knees rocking under your weight. You fell to the floor, sobs and hiccups forming into a full-blown attack, your hands scratching at your neck. Steve fell beside you, pulling you into his chest and rocking you back and forth. He cried too, the final words of his best friend ringing in his ears like a dreaded song on repeat. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. See you in a minute.

Time was irrelevant, you had enough of counting time, estimating it, time-traveling through it. If you could sit there all night, all week, another five years huddled close to Steve Rogers, then so be it.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ you had sobbed.

‘I can’t believe it either. I can’t,’ he had cried back.

You had simply lifted your head and turned his face toward yours, searching his eyes for any hesitation before you had leaned in first. He had returned the intimate gesture almost immediately, gripping you tightly. Tears dripped in between your moving lips, sobs caught inside breathy moans, grips becoming tighter and tighter as each of you shared your first time together. No other partner up until that point had ever pulled such a pained but grateful cry from your throat, no other human being had ever made you feel so safe and peaceful.

The final battle was over, you had lost yet another teammate, but the world had a chance to start over. And Steve had pulled you aside a few days before he returned the stones, letting you know that he wasn’t coming back the same man. He had been so scared of telling you, of possibly betraying you, but when your palms cupped his cheeks and you gave him a kiss on the lips with a soft whisper of ‘Be with her. Cherish her. Be happy. We’ll meet again’, his worries instantly shattered. He could only rapidly nod his head, grabbing your hands that were soaked in his tears, and kissing them until he said his final goodbyes.

And he returned such a different man, but with a smile you had never quite seen before. Yes, he was older and you only had a few seconds to actually process that, but he was happy. He had been happy. He finally lived the life he deserved.

Sitting in that pew two weeks later, both sad and happy tears streaming down your face, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You simply gripped Wanda’s hand as they carried the casket down the aisle, a sad melody drowning the church.

The first round of sickness hit you the day of the funeral, but you obviously didn’t think much of it. It was the fits of sadness and grief, the hot coil in the middle of your stomach, you thought. It had to be. It wasn’t until your breakfast was regurgitated into your toilet only a few minutes after enjoying it that you were suddenly worried.

You sneaked to some liquor store a subway ride away, careful of not leaving a trail. This was embarrassing, it was insane, it couldn’t possibly be real. You gave the cashier your money and ran to the stall provided, peeing on the stick the best you could before placing it on the dirty sink in the corner. You patted your hands on your thighs repeatedly, careful to not touch any other thing in a goddamn liquor store bathroom.

‘Friday?’ your voice was so defeated, tears already stinging your eyes.

Your little bluetooth sprang to life, ‘Yes, Y/N?’

Your bottom lip was trembling wildly, hands now shaking. ‘Can you stay active with me while I read the results? I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.’

‘Yes, Y/N. Anything you need, I’m here.’ You sobbed openly, thanking her under your breath. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to contact anybody else?’

‘I can’t face them. I can’t face them if it’s positive, Friday.’

‘Okay, it’s alright,’ her voice was so delicate, so quiet and reassuring. ‘Just keep talking to me, Y/N. I think the results should be ready now.’

You inched closer to the test. ‘I’m scared, Friday.’

‘I know,’ Friday sighed, ‘But you will get through this. No matter the result.’

Grabbing the small device from the sink, you swallowed so much saliva that it actually hurt. The plus sign was so clear, so evident in its visibility, and your ears only registered the loud cries escaping your painful lungs because Friday was practically yelling in your ear.

‘Please, calm down Y/N! Your heart rate is too fast-” she was stuttering, an AI was stuttering. ‘I’m calling for help. You need someone to be here with you. I’m sorry.’

It took ten minutes. Ten minutes of banging outside the bathroom door from the cashier, ten minutes of blurry vision and a strep throat. Sam broke through the door as quickly as he could, eyes flying around the small bathroom until he saw you huddled in the corner, a pregnancy test clutched in your small hand. He crouched down beside you, hands extended but not exactly touching you, and eyes trying to lock with yours.

‘Y/N, Y/N?’

Just the sound of his voice, the voice of someone who didn’t need this added pain in their lives, it was just too much. Another weight added to your shoulders.

‘I don’t know why,’ you choked out, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Sam’s face contorted into a pained expression, eyes brimmed with salty tears. ‘What are you talking about? No one is blaming you for anything. You’re safe, I’m here.’

You shook your head violently, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

But as quickly as those words left your mouth, the pounding in your head had become too unbearable. You collapsed into Sam’s arms.

You woke to a single doctor who was monitoring your vitals. She was just sitting beside your bed, clicking random buttons on the screen in front of her. You whimpered slightly, the bright lights temporarily blinding you. The doctor quickly stopped what she was doing and removed the tube from your nose, allowing you to breathe on your own. You ignored the weird scratch that caused, and asked her the question you needed to have answered by a true medical professional - not a liquor store device.

She confirmed what you already knew. There were no ‘congratulations’ or even ‘I’m sorry’s’, just the fact that you were pregnant and it was very early on. There were still options for you, it was healthy so far, you were healthy so far-

Wait, options?

The team were all huddled outside, nerves all over the place. They didn’t know what was going on. Sam knew but it wasn’t his information to pass on. It wasn’t until Bucky’s angry demeanor actually turned violent, a hole forming through the hospital wall. You were all on a private floor, completely displaced from the reality down on other levels, so any freak-outs were only slightly justified. Slightly.

‘Sam, you gotta tell us. I made a promise to Steve, Sam! I promised to take care of her!’

Bucky’s words gripped Sam’s heart in a metaphorical vice. ‘She’s gotta tell you guys, man. It’s not my place.’

You had curled in on yourself, the doctor’s words echoing louder and louder.

‘Abortion is an option. At this rate, it would be quick and safe. I can promise you that. It’s your choice.’

You wanted to die. You wanted the world to swallow you up and bury you alive. You wanted to disappear. If you had died in the snap, this wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened.

The ride back to the compound was a quiet one, with Sam driving you and the radio on low volume.

‘Are you going to tell them?’

You bit your lip, ‘The doctor said I had options.’

Sam’s breath hitched and he tried to mask it, but you had heard it. You felt guilty, disgusting, like you betrayed Steve and the rest of the team. They had just lost him, you had just lost him, and you were carrying his child. And if Steve would have known, he would have wanted it. He would have encouraged you to have it, he would have been so happy, he would have been such a great fa-

‘The choice is yours, Y/N.’ He glanced over at you, ‘Can you at least tell me who the father is?’

The wrecked sobs were like second nature now, choking you with their strength. ‘I’m so sorry!’

Sam pulled to the side of the road and quickly took off his seatbelt, sliding over in the connected front seats to pull you into his chest. ‘Shh, hey. We are not going to be mad at you. Everything’s going to be okay. It may not seem like it now but-’

‘Sam!’ you cried, clutching his shirt in a tight fist. ‘I swear it was an accident! Steve didn’t know! He didn’t know, I swear he didn’t know!’

Sam’s mouth dropped open, an almost embarrassing noise of surprise sounding from the depths of his soul. He ran his hands through your hair, eyes rapidly searching for a single viewpoint. But he couldn’t focus on any one thing, not when you were shuddering against him and apologizing nonstop.

Steve didn’t know.

The team had reacted in a similar manner. They so desperately wanted to wish you a congratulations, it was the norm for this kind of thing. Especially with such a rough few years - bringing life into this world could be considered an ultimate blessing. But this was Steve’s child, his baby, his only baby in this timeline. It was a part of him, something he had unknowingly left behind.

The team took a few days. The pain of losing Natasha, of losing Steve, of losing Tony. The gift of life. It was just too much.

And you found yourself in front of Wanda’s bedroom door, hands clutching your night robe closed and knees wobbly. She brought you tea, she laid underneath the covers with you, she spooned you until you stopped crying.

‘We weren’t together.’

‘You weren’t?’

You sat up, muscles straining due to your thousandth crying session that week. ‘No, it was one time. It was a mutual thing. We just… felt safe. And we made love.’

Wanda shut her eyes briefly, only to open them for two parallel tears to slip. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

‘We used protection. It really was an accident.’

Wanda interrupted, ‘No, don’t try and justify yourself. It happened. It’s done.’

You whimpered, reaching out to grab her hands. ‘I feel so guilty for even talking to you. I don’t know how you did it. I’m so selfish to be pouring all this on you-’

‘Hey, hey,’ she whispered, ‘But I am the only one who can truly understand. I have lost more in my lifetime than anybody ever should. But I am going to help you get through this, Y/N.’

You pulled her into a hug, ‘I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.’

Wanda slowly pulled away, eyes cloudy and touch of red twinge flying in her irises. ‘Alright. I won’t leave your side. No matter what you decide.’

The chair was cold, the room was cold, no matter how inviting the hospital tried to make this room. It was decorated in the most neutral colors, so delicate in its designs, pamphlets and books scattered on every available surface. It was made to make the pregnant person feel secure, to feel comfortable in the hands of their doctor, but it just made you sick.

And when the doctor asked if you would like an ultrasound first, that it wasn’t actually necessary for you to view it, you found yourself saying yes. You were at six weeks, it would be there. Wanda clenched her eyes shut, because even if you were strong enough to do that, she wasn’t. But she was here to hold your hand. She would hold your hand no matter what.

It was the size of a grain of rice. That fuzzy, white figure off a little to the right of your uterus was the size of a grain. A literal grain of rice. The monitor shifted and the doctor cleared their throat, the slimy device absentmindedly being circled around your lower abdomen.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered, eyes locked on the place the doctor had their finger. Wanda brought her hand up to her mouth and looked away.

That’s when you heard it.

The steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat.

Your chest started heaving, tears staining your cheeks as you listened to the beautiful sound.

‘I’m so sorry,’ the doctor mumbled, ready to pull the monitor’s plug to end the live video but you gripped their arm before they could.

‘No, no!’ you yelped, the heartbeat still sounding, so early in its actual life that this was for sure Steve’s child.

You turned to Wanda, face contorting into one of agonizing regret. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Steve.’

Wanda gulped and took in a ragged breath, ‘Y/N, Steve’s not here.’

‘No,’ you whined, head turning back to look at the monitor. The monitor with yours and Steve’s child on it. ‘This is the only real part of him we have left, right?’

Wanda opened her mouth but shut it again, unable to formulate a proper response.

‘This is Steve’s child,’ you stated, sucking in a breath through your sobs. ‘This is my child.’

The team was alerted of your decision the minute you walked into the common room. They had known what you left for, dread itching in their souls and morals twisting greedily, but they hadn’t stopped you. They couldn’t do that to you.

‘Hi,’ you mumbled, placing your things on the counter. Everyone kept their heads down, lumps growing in their throats as each second passed. ‘I’m okay.’

Clint was the first one to speak. ‘Did everything go well? Did they hurt you?’

You smiled with your teeth for the first time in weeks, ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even touch me.’

For a few seconds, no one caught on to your words. But Bucky was the first to register them, to etch them deeply into his brain, to stand from his seat and walk to you cautiously. ‘You decided-?’

You smiled wide now, happy tears falling over your strained cheeks. ‘I’m having a baby.’

The team erupted, cries and cheers deafening you. Bucky stumbled over and hugged you close, arms wrapped over your shoulders and face buried in your neck. He had to bend his knees to keep that position. He weeped into your shoulder and thanked you repeatedly, his own body rumbling with broken sobs. You held him close, fingers digging into his shirt and the skin of his back.

‘We promise, Y/N,’ Sam said off to the side, waiting for his turn to hug you. ‘We promise to take care of you and this baby.’

A few more long-awaited congratulations were shared. ‘Guess I’m on desk duty for the next nine months, huh?’

Bucky held you tighter.

The first four months were certainly eventful. Wanda insisted on taking pictures of you every few weeks. She had you model with a nice tight shirt to show off your growing stomach, different props in your arms as the weeks passed on. Flowers, sporting equipment, random Avengers inventions, signs that read the number of weeks you were at. You even did couple shoots, with your teammates posing behind you with their hands on your stomach and an equally bright smile.

She had them printed out and framed, the compound common rooms now littered with random photos of you and your growing child. It was like a timeline, a museum considering you would catch someone inspecting the photographs. This time it was Scott, casually eating his cereal and balancing it in his hand as he walked the hallway. He had this silly smile on his face the whole time, milk dripping from his bottom lip. In his photo, he was posed behind you with a giant smile, back arched and head thrown back while you were trying your best to arch your back as well. And then he saw you watching him, eyes falling from your face to your stomach, and that silly smile growing wider.

Happy insisted on doing yoga with you every other morning, his chosen playlists actually Tony’s. Half expecting the songs to only emit the essence of rock and roll, you were surprised when the playlist only contained acoustics. Happy winked at you, ‘He was a man of taste, Y/N. He, too, had those sad driving songs.’

Peter was hesitant to visit at first. He was still mourning Tony, as you all were, and seeing everyone again was certainly a hard thing to do. But he managed, and the moment he saw you there, trying to balance a plastic bottle on your tiny stomach, he burst into a fit of giggles.

‘Oh, oh! I almost got it!’ you encouraged yourself, stomach not yet protruded enough to quite get it.

Peter rushed over and caught the bottle as it slipped, ‘You’ll get there. How do you feel?’

You grinned at the kid, ‘Like I’m pregnant.’

Peter chuckled, ‘I wouldn’t know, so.’

‘It’s weird,’ you admitted, turning back to your abandoned bowl of fruit. You popped a piece of pineapple in your mouth, ‘But I just remind myself that they’re gonna be an angel when they come out.’

‘All slimy and angelic.’

You swatted at Peter, ‘They’re healthy. That’s all that matters.’

Peter placed his hand on your stomach, half-expecting something to happen. ‘I can’t believe you’re having his baby.’

You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. Steve should be here experiencing this. ‘Me neither.’

The next month had come so quickly. Your friends - your family - made sure to keep you occupied. Whether it was to shop, to nap together, to eat together, to exercise together, anything, they were by your side. It was so overwhelming at times, but not wanting to scare anyone, you took time for yourself whenever you could. You’d settle in your room, in a nearby cafe, in Natasha’s room, and just sit and breathe. With one hand on your stomach, you couldn’t possibly fathom the luck on your side. It always tore your heart in two when you realized Steve would never meet his child, absolutely mutilated it. But the realization that this child was going to have such a massive family, your family, uncles and aunts who would die for the kid - that realization was sometimes too much.

The thunder from outside startled everyone. The quiet night everyone was having was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a certain god, hair now cut and beard trimmed, running into the common area. He was practically hyperventilating, his quick pace halting as he scanned the room. ‘Is it true?’

‘You got my message?’ Wanda asked, shutting off the water from the sink.

‘I’m sorry, I was away. I just got the message and-’

Thor lay his eyes on you, your obvious stomach, and he started crying softly. ‘It’s true?’

You smiled at him, opening your arms for an embrace. But Thor fell to his knees in front of you, forehead resting on your stomach. ‘This is a miracle.’

‘It really is,’ you laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. ‘The condom broke.’

Laughter sounded almost instantly.

Thor looked up at you, eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. ‘He didn’t know?’

You shook your head, ‘No, Steve didn’t know. I promise.’

Thor nodded, believing you. He stood slowly, encasing you in a tight squeeze. He hadn’t changed much since you last saw him, but he did seem to be drinking less. ‘After so much loss, the Heaven’s send us a gift from a beloved friend.’

Bucky seemed to be the happiest. Although he shared your beliefs that Steve should be here to experience this, to cherish this, to be the father he had deserved to be, Bucky couldn’t help but feel grateful that you decided to keep the baby. He knew he needed to stop relying on Steve to fix his mind, this he had to do on his own, but the bundle of joy inside of you just added to his undying love for his best friend. This was a piece of him, a true half of Steve’s heart that would soon be breathing air and opening its eyes.

He was currently laying beside you, just woken up from a nap and lazily drawing circles over your clothed tummy. You were still asleep, deep breaths a little ragged since you were twisted slightly to your side. You had given up trying to sleep on your back nowadays.

‘Hey there,’ Bucky whispered, a funny smile forming on his face because he can’t believe he’s talking to your literal stomach. ‘You know you’re a miracle, right?’

There was no response, obviously. But Bucky just positioned himself to lean on his elbow, temple resting in the palm of his hand. ‘We’re going to love you so much. Steve would have loved you so much.’

He placed his metal hand on your stomach, careful not to apply so much pressure. He was hesitant though, the metal hand now from Wakanda but still something he didn’t entirely trust. Still, he rubbed smooth circles on your side. ‘I already love you so much.’

Kick.

Bucky widened his eyes, a hitch in his breath. Was that real?

‘Did you just respond to me?’ Bucky asked, a little laugh escaping his lips. ‘Should I say it again?’

Nothing happened for a long while. He switched hands, rubbing a little deeper now. It was a free massage for you, anyway.

Bucky bit his lip and looked up at your face, still peacefully dreaming. He leaned closer to your stomach and repeated his earlier confession. ‘I love you.’

Kick.

Bucky shot up from his spot on the bed and covered his mouth, a loud laugh accidentally escaping and startling you awake.

‘W-What?’

‘They kicked! They kicked!’

‘Seriously?’

Bucky was shooting through the stars, because even though it was a long shot, he felt like somehow Steve was telling him he loved him back.

Sam’s leg bounced madly as he watched the doctor slick up the generator. You repeatedly tried to calm him, tell him that it would be quick and simple, and there was nothing to be worried about.

You were six months now. Belly now protruding to the point where you could only see the tips of your toes when you glanced downward, and the baby was positioned farther into your back. If anything, you were having a giant freaking baby. He was a product of a super soldier.

You remembered having that scary conversation with the doctors, your whole family beside you as they heard and relayed the information.

‘Your baby is perfectly healthy. The serum isn’t affecting it. His lungs are forming less quickly than the other organs but there’s no serious worry.’

Bucky had literally cackled at that, confusing everyone in the room. ‘Steve and his shit lungs.’

But now you were finding out the sex. Only one person was allowed in the room this time, and Sam had literally begged you with his eyes to choose him.

‘Are you two ready?’

You each nodded at the doctor, waiting for the monitor to spring to life. After a few seconds, the heartbeat was detected. You gripped Sam’s hand in yours, a quiet ‘thank god’ passing through his lips.

Then the giant image of a literal baby appeared on the screen. It was so surreal. It resembled a quick sketch, like one Steve would have casually drew, and you couldn’t help but imagine him drawing that very image from memory.

‘Y/N, I-’ Sam cleared his throat, smiling at you.

‘Would you like to know the sex of the baby?’

‘Yes, please,’ you answered, gripping Sam’s hand harder.

The doctor moved the generator a few times more, hitting the spacebar on the computer to capture the image. ‘Congratulations, you’re having a boy.’

You shuttered a tiny laugh as Sam flew out of his seat, arms extended upward for a moment before he brought his hands down to kiss them over and over.

‘I’ll print this out for you,’ the doctor smiled, leaving you and Sam to celebrate.

Everyone had gathered later that night to find out the news. You had printed enough copies for everyone who wanted one. Bets were placed, a multitude of gifts already mounted in online shopping carts.

‘Don’t keep us waiting!’ Rhodey shouted, champagne bottle at the ready and propped up on his thigh for when you made your announcement.

Sam was standing beside you, a massive grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him and urged him on, telling him that you were fine with him saying it. Sam didn’t need to be told twice.

‘It’s a boy!’

Pop! Drinks were poured and hugs were shared, with even Friday coming over the monitor to congratulate you.

Even in the midst of all the excitement, you felt a little empty. But you enjoyed your pre-baby shower, happy that everything was so unbelievably working out.

It was midnight when you alerted Friday to call Happy to your room. You needed a ride.

Happy was slightly irritated at being woken up, but once you told him where you were heading, he obliged. The ride was silent, comfortable, with Happy glancing at you once in a while to make sure you were okay.

You walked across the grass slowly, hands resting on your stomach and just a little waddle in your walk. You flashed your phone light over the headstones even though the headstone you were looking for was in a secluded area. Happy trailed you, keeping a respectable distance.

You stopped in front of the small building, the fence somewhat blocking your path. But there was no security around, and even if you were caught on camera, your face let everyone know who you were and your connection to Steve. You had no worries.

You broke the lock easily and opened the door. It was almost entirely marble, a good deal of Steve’s actual aesthetic. So simple, not overly patriotic, and secluded. He had refused to be buried in Arlington.

You sat on the bench provided, the three names in front of you standing out like they were begging to be read out loud. So you complied.

‘Sarah,’ you muttered, smiling as the name rolled off your tongue. ‘Thank you for sending everyone a literal angel.’

You muttered his father’s name as well, but felt no personal connection to it. You spent at least ten minutes building up the courage to utter his name, to say his name in front of him again. He was buried right underneath your feet, his name the only thing for you to see.

‘Steve,’ you sighed and rubbed your stomach. ‘Steve.’

You sobbed silently and watched as the tears fell on top of your resting hands. ‘I don’t regret it.’

You were met with silence. ‘I don’t regret any of it. God knows why he did this. But you lived your life, and I just can’t believe I have to bring life into this world without you here.’

‘It’s a boy, Steve. A lovely little boy.’

You brought your hand up to your mouth to bite the side of it, throat clenching. ‘Everyone is so happy. I am, too. I promise you.’

You lowered your hand back to your stomach. ‘I just wish that you could feel that happiness.’

The moonlight moved slightly, shining on his name brighter now. ‘He’ll know about you, don’t worry about that.’ You laughed.

You didn’t want to keep Happy waiting. You stood from the bench slowly, feet sore. You walked closer to him, wishing you could easily bend down and give him a kiss. But you physically couldn’t right now, so you blew him one instead. ‘Thank you.’

Somehow the rumor got out that an Avenger was pregnant. And when Wanda was seen outside without a large stomach, all fingers were pointed at you.

The news went ballistic, most positive and raving, while others pondered just who had gotten you pregnant. You had been seen with everyone in paparazzi photos, so no actual conclusion had been made.

Until a picture of you at Steve’s gravesite was leaked.

It was constant bombardment, timelines were stitched together, magazines and their headlines were having a field day. Rhodey had tried to cancel these news stories, to threaten lawsuits, but to no avail. The world was now cursing Steve’s name - ‘how dare he leave her while pregnant?’, ‘how could he leave her pregnant and for another woman?’, ‘did he even know?’

The team had done everything in their power to try and clear yours and Steve’s name, but no one was having it. Steve’s love story was now tarnished, with many calling him a traitor and a deadbeat. It was no use.

You struggled to climb the stairs, inwardly cursing the staff for not installing a ramp instead. The flashes were blinding, the lights were hot, and the various microphones placed on the stand were comical.

Everyone hushed, looks of sympathy and pity slapping you in the face.

‘I know what you’re all thinking and what you’ve all been saying,’ you started, eyes wandering to the far corner of the room where your team were huddled. ‘But I need to clear a few things up.’

‘Steve didn’t know.’

The crowd erupted, questions flying at you like fast bullets. They were silenced after a few moments. ‘We shared a moment with each other before we brought everyone back. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after his funeral.’

The crowd murmured amongst each other. ‘He told me he was planning to stay in another timeline. To live his life. I encouraged him. He did not leave me alone and pregnant. He truly didn’t know.’

You finished, they didn’t deserve a deeper explanation. You ignored their calls for questions, some even trying to crowd you at the doors. But you pushed through them, cradling your stomach with a newfound sense of pride.

It was time.

You sat up in your bed and quickly wiped away the hard crusts from the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a few seconds before you felt another harsh twinge. ‘A-ah!’

You didn’t know why you paused, legs now thrown over the side of the bed. They felt like menstrual cramps, it could be false labor. You let out a heavy breath and pushed yourself up, legs wobbly. But the moment you did, it was like something snapped. Your legs were wet and a tiny puddle had started forming on the floor.

‘Friday!’

The lights in your room turned on immediately, ‘Y/N, is it time?’

You moaned at the uncomfortable cramping, ‘Yeah, I think it is.’

‘I’m waking and alerting the team right now, Y/N. Sit back down, please.’

You listened to Friday, sitting at the edge of your bed for a few moments before you realized you had to pack a bag. You shuffled across your room and grabbed the duffel bag Scott had left for you a few days ago. You packed a pair of socks, sweats, underwear, vaseline and your toothbrush, hairbrush, and phone. You zipped your bag just in time for both Bucky and Sam to throw open your door, Sam struggling to put his shoes on and Bucky slipping on a jacket inside-out.

‘Y/N, is it really time? Are you ready? Are you okay?’

You ignored the cramping in your back and laughed at them, ‘Yes! My water broke, I’m in pain, it’s time.’

With both Sam and Bucky at your sides, they held onto you as you all stumbled down the hallway. Thor was already waiting with the elevator open, the biggest smile on his aging face.

‘Wanda and Bruce are preparing the room. Scott already called the doctor. Clint’s in route,’ Bucky reassured. The three men huddled into the elevator with you, all instructing you to breathe and to squeeze them if you needed to.

But even though you were in pain, albeit not as extreme as it was going to inevitably get, you were so incredibly happy. They were all so loud, so chaotic, and you were as calm as a cucumber.

The elevator dinged. ‘Good luck, Y/N,’ you heard Friday call after you. You pinched your eyes closed, the thought that Friday was ultimately a part of Tony’s consciousness - Tony was wishing you good luck.

The pressure in your hips was starting to build and you didn’t know how long this would actually take. Some people had quick births, some people lay in labor for hours, some for a day. But it seemed like this was going to be pretty quick, because your next scream was completely involuntarily.

Bucky winced, leading you to the bed Wanda had just lay sheets on. ‘You’re doing great, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.’

You laughed at Bucky and gripped his hand in silent thanks before slipping into the bed and trying to get comfortable. Before you could truly feel like you made it, like the first hard step was done, you sat up quickly.

‘Wait, wait! Nat’s sweater! I was gonna wear Nat’s sweater!’

Thor was already out the door, ‘I’ll get it! Don’t worry!’

You smiled at the ceiling, beads of sweat now rolling down your forehead. ‘Oh, this hurts!’

It was an hour. Once you shimmied into Natasha’s purple knitted sweater, you lay there trying to control your breathing. Everyone had piled into the room one right after the other. The room was big enough, spacious enough for even Bruce to roam freely. Although you were in an immense amount of pain, you still focused on your team.

Scott was on his third cup of coffee, sipping excitedly as he conversed with the others. Bruce was constantly checking your vitals and wanting everything the doctor was saying repeated. Wanda was beside you, a hand gripping yours and the other running ice chips along your lips. Bucky was on your other bedside wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts because it still smelled like him. His logic was that if he was wearing something of Steve’s the first moment he held your baby, then the first thing he smelled would be the remnants of his father.

And Thor was practically speechless, silent in his own little corner and feeling like the god’s really did bless everyone in this room after such turmoil.

Clint arrived with Peter trailing behind him just when the doctor instructed you sit up - you were at ten centimeters.

‘You gotta push, Y/N! You gotta push when the doctor says push!’

You yelled until your lungs gave out, head almost rolling back but Sam held it in his palm. ‘C’mon, Y/N! You’re doing great!’

You usually had perfect pitch when you sang, never faltering when it was time to hit a high note. But your voice was cracking at the most unusual times, throat rubbed raw as you felt your hips splinter open.

‘He’s crowning!’

Wanda traded places with Sam real quick, deciding that she wanted to see the baby when he was finally out. Bucky had a death grip on your hand, tears flowing freely and a smile to match Thor’s.

‘Push, Y/N! Push!’

‘I’m-I’m! I’m sorry! I can’t!’

The doctor was working her hands around the head, trying to ease the baby out easier. ‘Trust me, Y/N. One more big push and the shoulders will be out. That’s the hardest part.’

The doctor’s words were starting to drown out, and your head lolled back again. You felt tiny smacks on your cheeks, ‘C’mon, Y/N. You can do this. Everyone believes in you. You’re so goddamn strong, Y/N!’

That was Bucky’s voice. Bucky.

You opened your eyes, delirious for a second. ‘Steve?’

Bucky whimpered and nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing kisses all over. ‘He’s here. I feel him, Y/N. You can do this.’

And you could feel him. You could see your family but you could feel him. It was so light, like a gentle whisk across the cheek, a promise that this truly was a miracle.

You screamed as you pushed under doctor’s orders, feeling numb and abused but satisfied. His shoulders slipped out and along with them came his arms and torso, legs and all ten toes. The doctor caught him quickly, lifting him up vertically to let you see him. He was already crying.

‘He’s here!’

You sobbed and smiled widely, laughter rattling your chest as the team bombarded you with quick hugs. Sam remained at your side, his eyes motioning for Bucky to go see the baby.

‘Who’s cutting the cord?’

You looked around the room but you knew. You answered the doctor’s question. ‘Bucky.’

Bucky was truly confused. Not because of your decision, but because he couldn’t possibly be worthy of this. His hands, those hands that had killed so many people involuntarily, had almost killed Steve, those hands were now gripping a pair of medical scissors to cut the symbolization of new life entering the world. He turned to you for permission one last time, before he gripped the cord in his hand and cut where the doctor pointed.

His shoulders felt a million times lighter. Like he was set free all over again.

They cleaned the baby up quickly and swaddled him. The doctor placed him in your arms, all warm and utterly safe, to look back up at you with the same blue eyes as his father.

You sobbed happily, brushing your fingers delicately along his pink cheek. ‘Hi. Hi there.’

He was no longer crying, just staring up in pure astonishment at the various faces staring back at him.

‘Y/N, he’s beautiful,’ Clint said, tissue already in hand.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you spoke softly.

‘Do we have a name?’

It was like everyone said it in unison. ‘Steve.’

You snuggled into the bed and Natasha’s sweater, somewhat aware of the doctor still fixing you up down there. You would try feeding later, but for now your newborn needed to be passed around the group and be awed at.

You carefully guided him to Bucky, holding his head gently in your palm. Bucky took him, arms instinctively curling in the correct position. Once Bucky had him in his arms, it was like everything that happened in the world was worth it. Absolutely everything.

Bucky watched in fascination as the baby curled deeper in his chest, little fist clutching Steve’s sweatshirt. He took the sweetest little intake of air…

xxMoni

#steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #angst fanfic #happy ending #avengers x you #captainsimagines #platonic relationships #pregnancy fanfic #marvel fanfiction #by Moni #one shot #avengers oneshot #trigger warnings listed

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

A Shit-Ton Of Sugar

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer work up the nerve to ask each other out after he’s been coming into her café for the past year. Category: FLUFF Warnings: Implied smut, nothing else :) Word Count: 5.3k

Full Request: “...Congrats on 1k that’s so exciting! I was hoping to request barista!reader that works at the coffee shop that Spencer goes to every morning, and literally knowing his order by heart??? And maybe like finally working up the nerve to ask him out/give him her number? Preferably fluffy, but I don’t mind! Thank you!” — @bauhousewife

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

***

DAY 1

The first day he came into the shop, she felt like she couldn't breathe, which may have sounded like a cliché, but how else were you supposed to feel when a man like that walked in and just existed in the same space as you?

However, when she heard the bell ring, signaling someone coming into the tiny café, the fact that it was almost six-thirty in the morning was enough to make her grumpy. Whoever it was didn't even have the decency to wait a half hour until they officially opened? So, she turned around to face the stranger, ready to put on a fake smile and act like she didn't secretly want to strangle them, and then laid her eyes on probably the most beautiful human being she'd seen in a long time.

His eyebrows lifted, simultaneously expressing a greeting and an apology. "I—I'm sorry, I know you're not technically open for another half hour, but I'm in a rush on my way to work and I was wondering if I could just get a quick coffee to go?"

It was obvious that he tried to speak evenly, but between apologizing and being late to work, his words still came out rather fast. And suddenly her annoyance faded, quickly turning into a need to please him however she could.

"Oh! Oh, no worries, I can do that," she rushed out, scrambling to smooth out her apron. "What can I get you?"

A flash of relief flooded the man's eyes when he blinked, and his posture seemed just as relieved, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a breath. "Just a black coffee with lots of sugar is fine, thank you."

"No problem. I'll have that up in a minute. Size?"

"Large, please."

As she got to work, he waited as patiently as he could, looking around the small space.

It truly was what everyone would describe as "home-y". Everything was painted a pale yellow, with lavender and sage green accents in the form of window trim, picture frames, little knick-knacks, and art pieces. As the man scanned over the few tables, he found little centerpieces of old ceramic mugs with flowers painted on them, each one containing real (or maybe fake? he couldn't tell) flower arrangements.

He smiled to himself as he found everything so... comforting. And as his eyes finally made their way back to the barista behind the counter, he finally got a good look at her.

"This is... your place? You own it?"

The woman turned back to him briefly as she poured the coffee into a large to-go cup. "Oh, yeah. I just opened up a few months ago. We don't get too much business, but that's fine by me as long as it's enough to pay the bills."

At her laugh, he smiled a little wider. It was a nice sound, just as comforting and home-y as the place he stood in. "Well, i—it's really nice, congratulations. I'm glad things are working out for you."

She laughed again a little, and if he knew any better he would have swore she was blushing. "Thank you. Um... How much sugar did you say you wanted?"

It was his turn to blush now, the way she was looking at him completely doing something wicked to his insides. "O—oh, um... I guess I never really did specify, huh? Sorry about that, um... Just three tablespoons is fine."

It was clear that he really didn't want to be an inconvenience, even more so when he mumbled a, "Sorry," so soft that Y/N wasn't even sure she heard it. Even still, she put on her best smile—even as she was turned around—to make sure he knew that she wasn't annoyed with him at all.

Though, it wasn't hard to keep smiling when she couldn't think to do anything else around him. Just the thought of his face made her want to smile, like she had a choice in the matter.

She finished the coffee, putting on a lid and turning around to face him again. "Can I get your name?"

He paused for a moment, like he was shocked she'd even ask, but laughed to himself and swallowed before responding, two syllables that almost sent her into cardiac arrest. "Spencer."

Suits him... she thought as she wrote his name down on the cup, her handwriting a pretty mix of cursive and print. And seeing his name spelled out in the penmanship she always got complimented on growing up looked like it might have been the most satisfying black marker trail she'd ever seen. Almost as satisfying as his face...

She cleared her throat and slid the cup across the counter to him, hoping she wouldn't be too obvious about her little eye-candy crush when she spoke. "Three-fifty is your total."

Spencer grabbed a five dollar bill from his jacket pocket and held it out, his fingers just barely brushing hers when she took it from him. If not for the intense concentration she was immersed in, trying not to embarrass herself, she would have jumped at the contact. Instead, she quickly ducked her face behind the tall register to keep from him seeing the stupid grin she couldn't keep away as she opened the drawer and started counting change. When she handed it over, though, she set it on the counter, hoping she could avoid touching him again.

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he scooped the change into his hand and immediately dropped it in the empty tip jar, a small smile on his face.

Just as Y/N said, "Thank you," Spencer grabbed his coffee and said the same, the both of them immediately going warm at the interaction. They let out a small laugh then, Y/N tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before she spoke again.

"Thank you for coming in," she said with a nod.

Spencer took a sip of his coffee and nodded back with a nod of his own. "A—and thank you for the excellent coffee."

Even after he left, she waited until he was across the street and completely out of sight before she let out a long, dramatic breath, immediately followed by a, "Holy shit."

And little did she know, it took everything within him not to keep looking back at the café as he left it—and her—behind.

DAY 5

She should have known it was too good to be true. In fact, if it weren't for the vivid physical and emotional reaction she'd had to seeing him lasting for days after it happened, she would have though she'd imagined the entire interaction. Spencer was quite literally the man of her dreams, if only because that's the one and only place he seemed to exist as of late.

Of course, it'd only been five days, and there was a possibility that he could come in again. Right?

Y/N shook away all thoughts of him as best as she could, focusing her attention to cleaning up the tables and closing for the night. The café was empty, the last customer having left no more than five minutes ago. But even as she cleaned tables, Y/N kept the sign on the door flipped to 'OPEN'— because the café closed for good at 10pm, and it was only 9:47. Though no one ever came in past 9:30, she figured it was better safe than sorry.

Soon enough, the small café started to smell more like lemon-scented surface cleaner than coffee, but Y/ didn't mind. In fact, as much as she loved the smell of coffee, after a long day it started to give her a little headache, one that instantly cleared once she started cleaning and closing up. It was calming, getting the place ready for the next day in the peace and quiet. She always turned half of the lights off so it wasn't as bright, a fact she was grateful for especially after the sun went down, but mostly because it made the place feel more atmospheric. Dim lighting during nightfall was probably Y/N's favorite feeling in the world.

At least, she thought it was.

She wasn't so sure anymore when the bell on the door rang and she turned around to see the man of her dreams, in all his tall, well-dressed, beautiful glory.

She froze instantly, the bottle of cleaner falling softly from her hands and dropping onto the table, making her jump.

"Oh, I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Spencer said quietly.

"N—no, it's... Um, it's fine," Y/N laughed, more embarrassed than anything. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to come in so late, we usually don't get anyone after 9:30."

"Yeah, I... I know it's late, I apologize, um... I just got back from work and I figured I'd stop by for a pick-me-up, i—if that's alright."

There he went again, acting like being in her presence was such an inconvenience for her, and it made her stomach do flip flops. There was no way he wasn't a figment of her imagination, right? He always showed up at the weirdest time, nervously asking for a cup of coffee like he wasn't supposed to be there.

Granted, this was only the second time it's happened, but the sentiment remained the same.

Either way, Y/N was happy to oblige.

"It's always alright. What can I get you this time?" She smoothed out her apron before sprinting behind the counter, turning on a lamp in the back that illuminated more of the kitchen.

"Oh, a black coffee is fine."

She couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed a to-go cup. "No mountains of sugar this time?"

To her surprise, he laughed back, and the sound made her feel warm. She wasn't looking at him because she was laser-focusing on the coffee making as to not make another embarrassment of herself, but she could see his smile in her head all the same. Hopefully the dimmer lighting wouldn't give her away, another stupid grin rising to her face.

"Mountains of sugar would be fantastic, actually," he said, his voice ever so warm and friendly, albeit soft. He was obviously tired, and if he was looking to stay awake, this coffee would definitely do the trick for a few hours.

"You sound like you had quite a long day," Y/N observed as she started brewing a new pot of coffee.

"Long week, more like... Work has been... a little rough."

The exhaustion threaded in his voice made her heart ache a little. "I'm sorry to hear that. Though, it sounds like you should be getting sleep instead of coffee."

When Spencer laughed this time, it was humorless. "Yeah, well, in my line of work sleep doesn't really come easily..."

Y/N glanced up at him then to see his head tilted upward as he stared at the ceiling. The dim lights of the café accentuated the peak of his nose and his jawline, and if not for the clear exhaustion highlighting his features, she would have taken more excitement in the fact that he was there, standing in front of her looking like a beautiful sculpture for free.

Though that was definitely an upside to him finally stopping by again, deep down she knew the reason he was there now wasn't because of her; He needed coffee, some semblance of comfort and probably normalcy after a shitty week. And Y/N was inclined to understand exactly how he felt in that regard.

"I'm sorry to hear that," is all she said on the subject. But she had an idea, hoping to brighten his day just a little, to bring another smile to his face. "Tell you what, I'll give you an extra coffee, no additional charge, and if you want, I'll even send you on your way with some of these extra muffins."

The half-worried, 'oh-shit-I'm-being-a-hassle' look on his face was almost familiar at this point, making Y/N laugh a little to herself.

"O—oh, Y/N, I couldn't do that, I—"

Ignoring the feeling she got when he said her name aloud, she stopped him, shook her head, and started pouring the freshly brewed coffee into two large to-go cups. "Really, Spencer, it's fine. I'll have to throw it all out otherwise, and this way it saves me the trouble. Trust me, you'd be doing me a favor."

"A—are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble..."

"I own the place," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And since I'm my own boss, I can confidently say that I won't get in trouble."

Though his smile wasn't as wide as she remembered, the sweetness and utter thankfulness she saw in it this time around was enough to call it a win. "Thank you... A—and again, I know it's late, I'm sorry for coming in—"

"Nonsense. You're welcome here any time," she reassured him with a smile almost as sweet as his coffee.

Maybe one day Spencer would stop apologizing, but as long as he kept returning to the café, Y/N didn't mind whether he did or not.

DAY 30

Y/N was feeling rather bold today. Not bold enough to actually ask him out or anything, but bold enough to have his order ready when he came in.

Over time she learned that Spencer's work schedule was pretty random, that he traveled a lot, therefore he probably wouldn't be in every day. But a few days ago, he mentioned he was scheduled for a week off, which rarely happened, and today marked the fifth day of his mini vacation— every single day prior, he stopped in at exactly 9:00am.

Taking the chance that he would be stopping in a fifth day in a row, Y/N was already making his usual coffee at 8:50.

Beside her, her friend and employee, Heather, snickered, finishing up with a customer and teasing Y/N with an evil grin. "You're so whipped."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she responded quietly, stirring in the mountains of sugar and setting the spoon down beside the cup.

"If you don't ask him out, Y/N, I swear... No way a man like that's gonna stay single forever, you gotta make your move."

"Who says I'm not going to?"

"Oh, so when you hand him his coffee today, you're going to give him your number and not just freeze and chicken out? You know, like you always do?"

She glared at Heather, but it only lasted for a split second before it turned into a look of pure pining and sadness. Pathetic... "Probably not..."

Heather patted Y/N on the shoulder. "It's alright, babe. When he comes in, just be yourself. He obviously likes you, enough to come in every day for your shitty coffee..."

The shit-eating grin on her friend's face was enough to make Y/N laugh again, and she shook her head, then turned back to put the lid on Spencer's cup. "Yeah, yeah... We'll see what happens. But I get what you're saying."

As Heather went off to clean some tables, Y/N wrote out his name on the cup, contemplating whether or not she should put her number next to it. What could be the harm in that, right? It was cute and charming as hell.

Just as she was about to write the first number down the chimes sounded above the door, and as some type of Pavlovian response, Y/N set down the marker and looked up to see if it was him. Instantly she berated herself for being so obvious, but by the look on Spencer's face when he approached, he didn't look phased in the slightest.

"Hey, Sugar," Y/N called out to him, sliding him the coffee and feeling butterflies swarm her stomach at the look on his face when he heard the nickname.

Then she realized she called him by a nickname...

Even though he still smiled and took the coffee, reaching into his pocket for money and clearly not phased in the least by her affectionate nickname for him, it still made her insides flare with a little embarrassment. And if she wasn't nervous about seeing him before, she most certainly was now that he was in front of her, smiling at her and being as kind and charming as ever with few words.

He was going to leave, grabbing the cup and turning, but halfway to the door, he turned back around, and when he spoke it sounded like he was as nervous as she was.

"Oh, um... I'm leaving to visit my mom this weekend, so, I just... Wanted to let you know... You know, so you don't waste your time and resources on my order..."

Though he was obviously looking out for her, Y/N still felt this overwhelming flood of foolishness, like he actually did find it strange that she memorized his order and made it for him so it would be ready on the dot when he got there. She figured, just for a moment, that it was his subtle way of telling her he thought she was taking things to a whole new level of weird.

"O—Oh, sure. Thanks for the heads up. Enjoy your weekend." She gave him her best smile, hoping her insecurity didn't bleed through.

But then he said, "You, too, Y/N," and smiled back, looking at her for a moment that lingered just a little too long before turning away. And before he actually walked out the door, he stopped and looked back at her again, giving a small wave as his face showed all signs of reluctance to leave.

She wasn't sure how long she stared at the empty doorway, but Heather's laugh broke her from the trance.

"You know you have nothing to worry about, right? He's definitely into you."

"You... You think?" she returned softly.

"I know. The next time he comes in, give him your number."

DAY 84

Turns out, Heather was completely wrong.

Y/N hadn't seen Spencer for weeks, and then the next time he came in, there was a girl with him. Y/N tried extra hard not to jump to conclusions— maybe she was just a friend? Or a sibling, or a co-worker... And besides, even if the girl was dating him, it's not like it would have been any of her business, right? She barely knew the guy, and though it hurt to have this stupid crush on him just to find out he had a girlfriend and she'd misread the entire situation, that's all it was. A crush.

A crush that, in the end, well... crushed her.

Because the girl was, in fact, his girlfriend. He didn't really introduce her at first, but the second day they came into the café together, they were holding hands. And the girl, short and pretty and adorning a beautiful mane of long, red hair, clung to his side, giving him the same doe eyes Y/N had been teased by Heather for giving him that day he'd left. Not to mention, when they ordered, the girl called him "Babe".

It was absolutely crushing.

Y/N didn't want to cry, because it was stupid for a grown woman to cry over some dude she barely knew, right? But that didn't stop the tears from welling as soon as said dude and his freaking girlfriend stepped out of the café, leaving her behind with an ache that she hadn't felt in ages.

She and Heather went out drinking that night, and after a few days of wallowing, Y/N promptly decided that Spencer and his stupid, beautiful face and his stupid, beautiful girlfriend could kiss her ass.

Of course, immediately after, she felt bad for thinking so negatively and just settled on staying out of their business.

But it didn't help that they came in almost every day for months. Even when Spencer was at work, therefore absent, his girlfriend was there. Jeannie, her name was. She had a regular order, too, one that Y/N couldn't help but dread making every morning but did anyway, even going so far as to have it ready for her when she came in. And Jeannie was incredibly nice, a fact which Y/N hated because it would have been way easier to deal with if she was awful. At least then, she could have maybe felt better about herself for being a nicer person, but she knew that wasn't fair.

This particular day, though, Spencer came in alone. And despite herself, the first thing Y/N said to him was, "Where's Jeannie?"

Maybe she should have known by the look on his face, but he sighed, returning her question with a simple, "Delaware."

Y/N started to make his usual order, keeping the conversation light even though she was inwardly sighing at he prospect of discussing his girlfriend's whereabouts. "What's she doing there?"

She wasn't looking at him, but the sadness in his voice stopped her in her tracks. "She's there with her husband."

"Uh... What?"

"Turns out she's been engaged for the past five years... They, uh... Took a break to see other people to really see if they wanted to get married, and I guess they... got married. Last week."

"Holy shit. Spencer, I... I don't know what to say, I'm... sorry..."

He didn't say anything, only giving a half-hearted smile that conveyed more sadness than anything. Y/N hated that someone had the audacity to make him feel that way... to use him like that without at the very least telling him her situation first, before getting into a relationship.

She finished his order, but before handing it to him, she reached for a blueberry muffin and wrapped it up. And as he took money out of his pocket, she sook her head and slid his things over across the counter. "Everything's on the house today."

"Y/N, you don't have t—"

"I insist. Jeannie did a stupid thing, and you deserve better than that... You deserve something good. And I know this is small and probably nothing, but I don't care."

A little of the sadness from his smile replaced itself with amusement, and Y/N decided she'd take it. He muttered a small, "Thank you," before grabbing his coffee, but before he took the muffin he looked her dead in the eye and deposited the five dollar bill from his other hand straight into the tip jar.

She sighed and shook her head at him.

But that only widened the smile on his face, most of the sadness gone. In fact, it looked more like a satisfied smirk as he grabbed the muffin and turned to leave.

Despite Spencer's refusal to not pay, Y/N found herself smiling as he left.

DAY 174

Thankfully there were no more girlfriends after that.

Well, okay, it wasn't fair of Y/N to say that, because if she wanted to take her shot she would have, and she couldn't get mad every time he had a new girlfriend.

But of course, that didn't mean she couldn't be relieved every time she saw him walk in alone.

This time it was Valentine's Day. The café was decorated with sparkly red garland and pink, red, and white hearts that dangled from the ceiling. All the flowers on the tables were replaced with roses and tealight candles, and currently, almost everyone was rushing to buy the chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements that Y/N made herself.

She was currently in the back, working on making more when Heather came rushing to the room, calling out her name.

A small panic started to sink in, because if Heather needed more supplies or more of the strawberry arrangements, she would have just sent back a ring of the bell on the doorway to the kitchen. But she almost knocked over said arrangements on her way in, and Y/N was worried that maybe something bad happened.

"Heather, what's wrong?" she asked hurriedly, smearing chocolate all over her apron.

"Nothing's wrong, but your boy is here. He's asking to see you!"

Her heart leapt out of her chest, and suddenly it was like the wind got knocked out of her. "S—Spencer?"

"Yes!" Heather half-squealed, reaching out to pull at Y/N's arm. "Go!"

"Wait! Wait, how... how do I look?"

"Take off the apron, pull down your shirt a little."

"Heather!"

"You asked! If he's here to ask you out, why not give him a little preview? Now c'mon, hand the apron over." She held her hand out, waiting for Y/N to take it off.

She grumbled as she did, suddenly more nervous than she'd ever been. Her hands shook as she untied the apron and threw it over to Heather. She looked down at the deep red v-neck she wore and sighed, pulling it down a little to give a better view of her cleavage. She fluffed her hair out, letting out a huge sigh and then shaking out her hands.

"You're hot, now go!" Heather exclaimed, practically pushing her out of the kitchen and into the bright café main room.

The moment Y/N stepped out, she saw him immediately. And as always, he looked absolutely perfect... In the last few months, he'd let his hair grow out a little, strands of it tucked behind his ear while most of it fell loose atop his head. Currently he was wearing a long coat, though she couldn't tell what was underneath. But she didn't need to know, really, because he could have showed up wearing a garbage bag and she still would have practically drooled at the sight of him.

Swallowing, Y/N made her way over to him with a smile, Heather following behind.

"Hi," she said, hoping her nerves wouldn't show through. "Heather said you asked for me?"

"U—uh, yeah. Hi, um... Sorry if you're busy, I just wanted to... stop by, say Happy Valentine's Day..."

Her heart beat faster than it ever had, and seeing him smile this nervously in her direction made it all the more endearing. "Oh, thank you," she said, giving him a small wave and then wondering why when she could have done literally anything else... Wink? Finger guns?—No, Y/N, what are you thinking? Just keep cool and talk to him like a normal person! "Do you... have any plans?"

Spencer stood still, seemingly starstruck by the question for a few, long, seconds before blinking and slightly shaking his head. "O—Oh, yeah, um... Some friends and I are going out for drinks later, that's all. Should be kinda boring, actually, not really my scene..."

"Oh... Boring's nice, though, sometimes. Personally all the huge Valentine's Day plans are kinda over-the-top anyway." She might as well have been wearing a sign on her forehead that said Lie! Lie! Lie!

He laughed, though, and Y/N's heart sunk. "Yeah, you're right... Um, I'll let you get back to work, then, I just wanted to stop in and say hi."

"Oh... You don't... want coffee or anything? I—I've got these chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements, too, if you want one. You know, 'cause why not?"

"Oh! Uh, sure. That... That sounds great."

His smile lit her insides on fire, ad she tried desperately not to stumble as she worked her way through the kitchen, making everything. He waited patiently by the side of the counter, trying equally as hard not to keep sneaking glances at her as she worked. Meanwhile the pink post-it note with his phone number in red ink burned in his pocket, his hands shaking as he struggled to think of a scenario in which he wouldn't fumble with it and completely make a fool of himself. Because now that he was there, in her presence, it was a lot harder to pretend like he had the confidence to actually ask her out.

And when she brought his order, she flashed that beautiful smile and he knew immediately that he would never be able to give her the post-it. Whether she knew it or not, she made him nervous, and if he was going to mess everything up, he certainly wasn't going to do it in a café full of people on Valentine's Day. He'd never recover.

So Spencer accepted the coffee and the small bouquet of fruit, trying his best not to drop it with shaky hands. "Thank you. How much?"

"For you, on the house," Y/N returned. "And please don't just put a 5 in the tip jar. I'm getting really tired of you doing that."

They both laughed, the memories of every time since the last time he'd done it sparking between them like lightning. Almost every time she insisted on giving him his coffee for free, he pulled a 5-dollar bill from his pocket and landed it in the jar, and every time she rolled her eyes at him and told him to get out.

"Well, I have to give you something," Spencer insisted, the paper in his pocket burning even hotter.

Likewise, Y/N felt like she was going to lose her balance again. Was he going to ask her out? Heaven forbid, would he kiss her? "What do you have in mind?"

The deep tone of her voice sent a chill through him, and in that moment it was now or never. So he set the coffee down on the counter and reached into his pocket. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a raise of his eyebrows. "It's not what you think. I promise."

Somehow she didn't believe him.

But then he pulled out a hot pink piece of paper and slipped it in the tip jar instead, his eyes never leaving hers. "I really hope you empty the jar at the end of every day, otherwise this is going to be a little embarrassing."

"What... What is it?" she asked softly, though she already had an inkling of the answer.

And then he said something that made her heart soar. "I think you already know."

Sure enough, Y/N looked down and saw numbers written on the sheet of paper through the glass. She smiled, letting it burn heart-shaped holes into her eyes.

Spencer was gone when she looked back up, but the image of him was still seared into her brain.

DAY 366

They hadn't even made it out of the parking lot. And you'd think that after months of dating and going on dates he would have been used to how pretty she looked, but alas, yet again he couldn't wait, and now Spencer and Y/N were laying in the backseat of her car, praying no one had just seen what went down not twenty minutes ago.

"You know what, I think that has to be a record," she laughed, combing through his damp hair with her fingers. "I didn't even have my seatbelt on yet."

He laughed with her. "You know I'm impatient..."

"Yeah, and I also know that we're certainly not going to make those dinner reservations you worked so hard all month to get. All that hard work, for nothing!"

He scoffed, though the smirk on his face never faltered. "I hardly think it was for nothing... You are definitely something... Besides, I had to, because today is very special."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Well... I don't know if you know this, but you and I met exactly one year ago today. And I've never been the same since."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide. "Has... Has it really been that long already?"

"Mhm... And it only seems like it hasn't been that long because we've only been technically dating for 192 days... But I wanted to celebrate anyway. Because no matter how long we've been dating, I've actually been enamored by you for 366 days. And counting."

Warmth flooded through her veins as she hugged him tighter to her, pressing a kiss to his jaw before nuzzling into his neck. "Oh, Sugar... I love you."

Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, thinking back to all the times he'd watched her pour a shit-ton of sugar into his coffee at her cute little café— the one he'd only ever stumbled on by accident because he was running late for work and needed a quick fix of caffeine. Turns out it had been the best accident he'd ever stumbled into.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth

TAGS NOT WORKING: @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith

If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you!

#mercy 1k celebration #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #specer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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thatshithurted8 · 4 years

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Sticky Notes

Summary: JJ falls in love with the introverted Kook Pope tutors. (Part two to Introverted. However, you don’t need to read part one.) Requested by @teamnick

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is the long awaited part two to my original fic Introverted. I’m sorry it took me so long to write, but I hope you all love it nonetheless. I also want to thank you all for 650 followers, I adore you all!

You look in your rear view mirror one last time before getting out of your car. You just arrived to the chateau since JJ asked you to come over. However, you had no idea what he was planning. He told you to wear whatever you want, not specifying anything in specific. Even though you had no clue as to what the mischievous boy was planning you wanted to look your best. Little did you know you could wear a garbage bag and JJ would still be smitten for you.

After changing your mind on countless outfits you finally decided to wear a white dress with brown buttons running down the middle, it was cottage core inspired. Along with your dress you wore a pair of white converse and a gold necklace that your parents got you for your birthday. The reflection and colour of the necklace accentuated the golden aura that seemed to follow you everywhere. That same aura was something JJ loved. It was comforting and reminded him of how soft and reserved you were.

As you close your car door you see Kie, Pope, Sarah and John B all scurry inside of the chateau, which you thought was weird. Yes, you didn’t talk much, but you always greeted them, they were your friends after all. However, your confused thoughts instantly go away when JJ walks around the side of John B’s van, greeting you with a smile and hug.

Everything you wore took JJ’s breath away, but something about seeing you wear white made JJ feel a certain type of way. Not a sexual way, but a loving and content type of way. Seeing you wear white basically thrusted JJ into you guys’ future where he can imagine you walking down an aisle wearing another white dress.

“You look beautiful.” JJ says after hugging you and fixing his backwards cap.

You blush at the boys compliment while fiddling with your fingers. “Thank you.”

Despite being extremely close to JJ now you couldn’t stop yourself from shying away whenever he complimented you. And despite loving you for so long JJ knew he would never get tired of how you reacted to his compliments.

“My lady?” JJ asks, sticking his hand out for you to take which you do.

The two of you walk around the side of the van where JJ previously was and you’re taken away when you see how John B’s yard was set up. You were greeted by string lights hanging from tree branch to tree branch and a white sheet being hung up between two trees, Kiara’s projector sitting a few feet away from it. The only thing seemingly out of place was the van, it wasn’t parked in it’s normal spot.

“JJ.” You softly say, awestruck. It was like a scene coming out of a movie.

“That’s not all.” The blonde says confidently before letting go of your hand, which makes you realize how much you loved the feeling of his hand against yours. You watch as he walks over to the vans sliding door, he smiles at you and opens it.

Your mouth falls open as your eyes scan over the vans contents and walk closer. Inside were a ton of blankets and pillows, on top of the soft blankets sat a small basket full of your favourite snacks and drinks and all over the van were sticky notes in every colour with JJ’s messy writing on them. JJ admires you as you step closer to read what each sticky note had written on it.

You’re beautiful.

I love how down to earth you are.

You can light up the whole universe with just your smile.

Colours seem brighter when you’re around.

You bring out the best in me.

I feel the most like me when you’re around.

Jokes are funnier when you tell them.

You make me want to be a better person.

I love your perspective on everything.

You turn towards JJ as you finish reading all of the sticky notes that were scattered around the van. Your eyes were welling with happy tears while your heart beat only increased.

JJ lets out a shaky breath before speaking, “You know Y/N the first time I ever saw you, you took my breath away.” He says fiddling with his ring clad fingers before looking up to meet your gaze.

The Maybank boy wasn’t the type of person to be intimidated or nervous when talking to girls, but when it came to you it was a whole different story, especially since he also was planning on asking you an important question.

“I’m so happy that we have gotten to know each other.” JJ says grabbing a hold of your hand, which he grazes softly with his thumb.

You nod in agreement at JJ’s statement, but you let him continue talking.

“You are single handedly the most amazing person I have ever met. And you make me so fucking happy Y/N, you have no idea. So I was wondering.” He says trailing off while taking another sticky note out of his cargo shorts and handing it over to you with his free hand. You softly take it from him and read the words that were written in JJ’s legible, but messy writing.

The note read, ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

You look up at JJ, meeting his blue orbs, both of your guys’ hearts were beating a mile a minute. You continue to stare into his eyes, making sure he was being serious, after all he liked to joke around with everyone especially you.However, you could tell he wasn’t joking and what you dreamed and hoped for was finally happening.

“Yes.” You softly, but genuinely say while smiling from ear to ear.

JJ’s nerves instantly go away when you reveal your simple answer. Seeing you smile and be so happy because of him made JJ even more happy in that moment. Much like you, he couldn’t believe everything he planned and hoped for was finally happening.

“Yes!” He exclaims throwing his hands up into the air.

“You’re my girlfriend!” He exclaims again, while throwing his arms around you and pulling you into an embrace causing you to giggle. You could feel yourself relax into his touch.

In one swift movement JJ picks you up bridal style, making sure your dress was covering you fully before spinning around in circles. You start to laugh hysterically at your now boyfriends antics.

“She said yes! Let’s go!” He yells once again, excitement and happiness radiating off of the Maybank boy.

The Pogues come outside after hearing JJ and they start to cheer and congratulate you two as JJ continues to spin you two around.

You and JJ sat in the back of John B’s van, cuddled up together and underneath the countless blankets the blonde brought outside.

“I love this part.” You say, your eyes trained to the white sheet that was currently being used as make shift projector screen. JJ made sure to play your favourite disney movie for tonight which was Cinderella.

As Prince Charming starts to dance with Cinderella, making every other girl at the ball envious of the blonde beauty in the blue dress, an idea crosses JJ’s mind making him kick off the blankets and stand up. You glance between the movie and then back to JJ confused.

“My lady?” JJ asks again like he did earlier, but this time he bows while putting one hand behind his back and one out stretched to you.

Without hesitating you throw the blankets off of you and grab a hold of JJ’s calloused hand. You giggle and blush as JJ copies what Prince Charming does in the animated film and guides you to a pretend dance floor in the middle of John B’s yard.

JJ’s large hand falls on your waist while his other intertwines his fingers with yours and holds them in the air. You blush as you two start to waltz around the open yard. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and you couldn’t help, but look down at your feet, making sure you didn’t step on JJ’s as you two twirled around.

“Look at me beautiful.” JJ says as the movie continues to play in the background.

You look up from your feet and meet JJ’s gaze, causing his breath to hitch at how beautiful you looked under the moon and fairy lights. Your cheeks were flushed and you felt like you were on cloud nine. Never in your life has anyone made you feel the way you do when you’re with JJ. In that moment you finally acknowledged the fact that you were in love with him. It felt refreshing to finally admit that to yourself after trying your best to push your feelings for the blonde away. You were too worried and in your head about him not liking you back. You genuinely thought he could never like the shy and introverted girl, seeing how outgoing he was.

But how wrong you were.

JJ stops dancing, his left hand remaining on your waist while his right hand comes down to caress your cheek, your hand finding his bicep. You hoped he couldn’t feel the heat that was most likely radiating off of your skin because of him.

His blue eyes glance down to your lips before looking back up at your eyes that he adored so much. Without even realizing you both start to slowly move in. Just before the distance between you two is eliminated JJ glances back up to your eyes, as if he was asking if he could kiss you.

“Kiss me.” You softly say, causing more heat to rush to your face. It was out of character for you to be so straight forward and demanding, but you wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you.

And so he did.

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pepperpills · 3 years

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The Harvest - RE8 fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: hi guys, I'm changing a little my posting method. at first, I was afraid the chapters were too big and decided to divide them in parts and post a new part everyday (as long as there was a part to post), but it kind of affects the reading, so I will be uploading a new complete chapter every tuesday, hope it is better for you!

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2)

Part II – The Lord

The day after The Harvest, when you were designated to work for Lord Heisenberg, was a long one. Not really exhausting as you spent most part of it turning from one leg to the other waiting for someone to activate the bridge to the factory.

You were deadened by a miscellaneous of emotions battling to gain domain over your brain. You couldn’t stop thinking about waving your mother goodbye as the sun conquered the sky, shortly before being surrendered by the stormy clouds.

After the speech at the Chapel, you wanted to wander around a little bit, maybe hunt, thinking that it probably was your last walk on those landscapes, yet, you didn’t want to get late on your first day, so your feet lead the way past Heisenberg’s gate, close to the church. It wasn’t even lunch time when you reached the end of the road, facing the factory chimneys and the hell lot of metal discarded in its front yard.

You had completely no idea how to call someone or if you should, as far as you knew, the lord lived there alone and you didn’t think it would be a great first impression if you simply started yelling his name, so he could do that bridge thing.

Thus, you waited. Placing your bag on the ground, you stood there for what seemed to be two entire hours. Then you got tired and sat, your corselet holding your oxygen levels. After a while even being sat was annoying, your legs tingled and your stomach hurt, once you completely forgot to bring any food with you.

That would be a great time for the Duke to make an entrance. As one of his most loyal clients – maybe you sneak once in a while, claiming possessions of one or two crystals –, sometimes you two shared a meal and Gods, he was a good cook. But it wasn’t his week at the Village and that wasn’t his store’s place anyway.

When the day light began to fade and the clouds grew heavier, you started worrying about getting wet. To divert your mind from that thought, you left all your belongings at the end of the road, not too close to the border, so hopefully they wouldn’t fall in the water below, and explored the ruins, studying the bricks that build those structures, absolutely bored, not even anxious anymore. At that point you could think about a thing or two to say to that idiot Heisenberg.

What would happen if he didn’t open the gate? Could you just walk away and live your life? Well, that didn’t sound like a bad plan, if just you could reach the forest first… The first water drop popped in your hair, the rain it announced didn’t take long to join it and a few moments later you were soaking wet, cold to the bone, contracting every muscle.

Suddenly, as you were about to curse Heisenberg’s name, a gear sound rose, it sounded old, but well-oiled and was really loud, louder than the rain and thunders and made you and the crows jump, they flew, you stayed as there was nowhere to go. Approaching your dank belongings, you saw a firm, modular, sand-coloured bridge forming in front of your eyes. Its movement was smooth comparing to something that big. You were genuinely impressed and would like to ask a few questions about how that works.

This surreal vision absorbed you for a few minutes after it was done, you didn’t feel the rain chastening your skin anymore. To be honest, at that point you realized where you were at and what you had to do, after an entire day in standby.

Your own brain didn’t really wake you up from that hypnosis. Oh, no. What made your heart rate rise again was a sudden, strong and frisky voice coming out of nowhere. You looked around, moving your head way too quick, making a spray of water with your hair and saw no one, but his words were most certainly there, echoing in your mind, making your entire body feel warm.

“C’mon, honey pie, we ain’t got all day.” He said, demanding, and then laughed.

Great, a madman, you thought. You weren’t sure, though, if you blushed intensely due to what he just called you or because every cell of your body felt enraged with that joke, it was you who had been waiting for him, you who would be forever wet, because he left you in the rain. You wanted to walk to that factory and tell it straight to that son of a…

Shortly, you understood. It was a test. You took a deep breath, grabbed your stuff, which made a humid sound, and walked resiliently to the factory’s gate. He wanted to see if you were a spitfire and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“She walks.” He giggled, the voice of the wind, and then opened the gate.

Was he doing it with his mind? You knew that Lady Beneviento had some sort of effect on people’s brains, hallucinations they said, Lord Moreau could turn into a giant fish, Lady Dimitrescu had impressive long and strong nails that could tear anyone apart. What could Lord Heisenberg do, really? The villagers talked about he being one of the strongest lords, if not the strongest of them all. He had some power over metal, but you didn’t know exactly how it worked.

Anyway, you stepped in his front yard, facing the absurd, yet fascinating sea made of his discarded toys. For Gods’ sake, you even saw a war tank half buried in the dusty soil, you couldn’t even imagine how he had that and why he would so easily neglect it. There were ripped off motorcycles, destroyed cars, metal pieces with a huge variation of sizes and shapes and a ton of mechanical parts just lying there as a good old scrap heap.

Home, you thought sarcastically and smiled. So, when the last factory doors finally spread open to you, you faced the interior with a smile on your face even though you were miserable due to the storm. Carefully, you came inside just to be greeted by a puff of heat and sweet smoke, really welcoming at your state. The warmth certainly came from all the machinery working there somewhere, making a metal orchestra that never shut off. The smoke, well, it was coming from Heisenberg’s lite cigar.

He came from above, as a god like being, building stairs with metal parts right in the mid-air and climbed them down. You had never seem such thing and it was breath-taking; you were hypnotised for a moment there, silently dripping on the grimy ground, actually cleaning it a little.

He had some sort of waddle on his walk, nothing tawdry, though. Karl Heisenberg looked like an authoritative, impulsive and humorous man and he was, above all, having fun with you being there as if you were his new pup and you sure were.

“Oh, look who finally made it!” He greeted, on the ground, standing three steps away from you, the smoke so dense it made your eyes water, yet reassuringly hot with a tobacco scent.

Heisenberg took off his spectacles, just then you realized he was wearing them inside the factory. Besides that, he was dressed exactly the same as the day before, it didn’t seem he’d showered or so. Nonetheless, now you could see his eyes, his multi-coloured greyish blue abysms staring straight at you for sure this time.

All you felt able to do was stare back, almost not blinking, taken by those soft colours on a rough man like him. You thought you would be scared, although, you were honestly intrigued. You noticed another scar crossing his cheeks and nose and wondered how it ended up there, feeling all of a sudden tempted to reach it with your index finger, gently sensing the cicatrized skin.

“Good evening, sir.” You found yourself saying to be polite, breaking the motionless aura that sunk you in contemplation.

It was bizarre, but you weren’t cold anymore nor angry, you had the grip over your own posture again, your corselet helping you to keep your back straight. You were confident.

“Good evening, Y/N.” This you weren’t expecting, almost broke you. Why would he bother to memorise your name?

You remembered what Miranda said about being solicited by one of the lords, that made you shiver, exactly like the one you had before, only this time you could also smell the iron all over, not only taste it. The scent in the closed atmosphere of the factory had a light, almost undistinguished, aroma of the night, the fresh breeze and dry grass, maybe brought by you, however, most of it was rusted metal, motor oil and tobacco. It wasn’t unpleasant, just uncommon to what you were used to.

“Guess you found less transparent clothes.” He said next, circling you, studying you and your reactions.

You noticed he also smelled like the factory as if he was part of it, or it was, indeed, himself. You closed your eyes and the iron taste emphasized, it felt like you were licking a ring, you head spined.

“It is tradition to wear them at The Harvest.” You defended yourself – and your pure intentions.

You don’t know why, but you felt your cheeks burning, actually, parts of your body that would usually pass unnoticed had lite with the tension in the air and you just hoped you could be alone, devouring some food to calm your nerves.

“Horseshit!” Heisenberg raised his voice, coming through his pressed teeth. “They just make you wear those slutty clothes so my sisterAlcina can see all of her new pups’ assets.” Heisenberg mocked, laughing madly.

“Oh.” You couldn’t think of anything better to say, you never thought of that.

At that point, you were thinking about yourself, your dress and how you felt pretty wearing it. Did it count on the selection? You felt slightly ashamed, Heisenberg’s breathing was too close to your left ear, but you wouldn’t dare to move or your noses could collide.

“Surprised?” He questioned, maliciously. You didn’t answer immediately, you were too aware of how your boobs were trying to escape the corselet’s dictatorship. “I asked you…” He bellowed “are you surprised?” he finished in a lower tone.

“Y-yes.” You finally said. “Never thought of it.” You looked at the ground, discovering a puddle where you were standing.

“You sound like an outsider.” He ruminated, more to himself than to you.

“I kind of am.” You confessed, thinking about the cabins. “I am from the cabin people.”

“Hm… Interesting.” He glanced at you, head to toe, you couldn’t help feeling heated as you never felt before. “Sorry about the rain.” Heisenberg shrugged. “I am a busy man.” He justified, mischievously, remembering you of the anger you felt back at the bridge.

The lord left you alone for a second, walking past through a curtain. You followed him into a small improvised office area with photos all over a wall, it pictured the Village, the lords’ lots and Mother Miranda, a big poster of her right in the middle. It had a knife scratch on it. Maybe Heisenberg wasn’t a family’s man after all.

You were regaining your confidence as he was distracted with the pictures – or you thought he was, unable to really see what he was picturing –, you were seeking for a good ambiguous thing to say about waiting so long for that sort of reception, however, he was quicker and made you gasp, almost choke.

“Take ‘em off.” It was an order said firmly. The way he looked at you, as if he was some kind of authority, gave you the chills.

“Them?” You innocently asked, placing a hand on your belly, trying to breathe.

“Your wet clothes.” He explained, pointing to your entire body.

“All my clothes are wet.” You insisted, flushing heavily.

He took his very own overcoat off and handed it to you. You hesitantly accepted it, not knowing exactly what to do with his eyes on you.

“For fuck’s sake.” He turned away, chuckling.

You waited half a second to be sure he wasn’t secretly looking, you didn’t know if there were cameras in the room, so you started undressing. It wasn’t a very easy dress to take off, you couldn’t reach the laces on your back, because of that, you had to ask for his help.

“Can’t even take off your own clothes, kitten.” Heisenberg mocked, as his adept hands slowly, playfully, untied the laces.

His touch was warm, he slipped his hand and you felt his calloused fingers on your skin, your body hair immediately responded husking and an electrical current flowed through you, lightening your eyes, reverberating to your core. He also felt that and some other things that made him put away his hips, but once you were facing the entrance, you couldn’t see his reaction and only heard a small movement of boots.

Lastly your dress fell to your feet and you covered yourself with his bulky overcoat, feeling better as you inhaled his aroma so intensely you almost fainted with those mechanic flavours petting your skin and his body warmth heating you.

“Now, enough chit-chat. Your duties.” He broke the silence as you finished tying the fabric belt around your waist.

“Yes, sir.” This time it was him who took a deep breath, seeming a little bothered somehow like he could use some time alone.

He had been a lonely man. You didn’t hear other people, well, living people, in the factory the next days and realised it was only you and him. It must have felt weird having someone around after years of living like an eremite. Even with all the jokes and that cheap charms, the view of him tilted to the investigative board gave you the impression that it was a bit too much having you there all at once and decided to put your rain resentments aside ang give him a chance and some space.

“I need some cleaning. I am expanding some experiments and I need to use a new wing for it, but it’s really messy.” You couldn’t see his face, but you were sure he had a grin adorning his scarred lips.

“I will do it.” You said, a little disappointed that this was your choir and surprised you were expecting something more… Dangerous? Exciting maybe?

“Of course you will.” He was leaned on the office desk, not even looking at you anymore, suddenly sold out. “One more thing.”

“Yes? What is it, sir?” Heisenberg shook his head making his grizzly hair dance as if getting rid of a thought. It wasn’t clear if he was still having fun or being disturbed by something.

“There is only one bed in this factory.” You turned stone cold with that announcement, abruptly conscious of all the blood running through your veins.

A secluded part of your mind, a usually quiet one, whispered a thought: It would be good to see where his blood is running to.

“Unless you want to sleep in a stretcher.” He added, laughing vigorously, giving you the chills again.

“Oh no, I will take the bed.” The answer came easily as if it was always there.

You took your wet clothes and belongings after he told you how to access the bedroom and you left him alone to it, whatever it was.

#resident evil #re8 #karl heisenberg #re village #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 village #heisenberg #heisendaddy #heisenberg resident evil #resident evil viii #resident evil 8 fanfic #original post #resident evil village #re8 karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #fanfic #re fanfic #the harvest

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ifeellikeameowster · 3 years

Text

Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

#creativitwins #Darkside!roman #darkside roman #dark!roman #my fics #sanders sides #sanders side fic #i had too much fun writing this #though the living room scene was way too many characters to keep up with holy shit #yes i ended it on a cliffhanger no i am not sorry #will i continue this au?? probably not lmao #the rest is up to your i-m-a-g-i-n-a-t-i-o-n!~~~

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Lake House Tattoo - One Shot

a/n: so my birthday is in a couple of days, and I think a lot of you know I write about piercings a lot, but don��t have any major ones of my own...or at least I didn’t UNTIL TODAY! Finally got my belly button pierced yall! I wanted my nose done, but it’s not safe to do so yet, so I got the next best thing. Anyways...the guy that took care of me was really nice, and made me want to write a little piercer!Harry fic. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: FLUFF!

Words: 2.3K

Y/N was a simple woman. She worked a 9-5, regular old office job, and she liked it enough. She had a great group of friends, and a relatively normal family. There wasn’t too much to complain about. She was well past her wild college days, but as her twenty-fifth birthday was approaching, she wanted to do something that she felt was a little out there for herself.

A lot of her friends had different types of piercings. She only had her ears pierced. She had two sets in her lobes, and a simple stud in her cartilage. But her friends has some of the cooler ones, some had their noses pierced, and others had their belly buttons done. Bingo. A belly button piercing would be perfect. It was the little bit of defiance she was looking for, but it was also discrete. Maybe for any other person it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but it was something her mother was adamant about not allowing her to have as she was growing up, which was annoying because it seemed like everyone had it.

“Will you please come with me? I’ll need someone to hold my hand…” She asked her best friend, Maggie.

“Of course! But I promise, it won’t hurt that much. Where are you getting it done?”

“Lake House Tattoo, the piercer came really recommended from some friends at work. I wish I could have my nose pierced, but it’s frowned upon.” She sighs. “And another ear piercing isn’t outrageous enough.”

“Plus it’s discrete like you wanted. Are you going to tell your mom?” She giggles.

“Maybe some night if I get drunk enough and work up the courage. I’m about to be twenty-five, I’m an adult, I don’t live at home, she can’t say anything.”

A couple of days before her birthday, Y/N and Maggie drive out to the tattoo shop. It was on the top of a hill on the coast. The piercer, Harry Styles, came recommended by just about everyone she spoke to, so it was worth the almost hour long drive. Plus, it was a beautiful day out so the girls didn’t mind.

They both walk in, and step up to the counter. There were a couple of people sitting behind the desk. One of them had sleeves on both of his arms and those really large gages. His hair was buzzed short and bleached blond. The other man behind the counter had brown hair with soft curls. It was pulled back by a red bandana and a small clip. His left arm had a ton of tattoos, and his right only had a few. He had a small hoop in his left nostril, and that was all Y/N could see for piercings.

“Hello, I have an appointment at two…I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, the belly button, right?” The man with the bandana says. “I’m Harry, you’ll be with me.” He smiles and then squints at Maggie. “Are you getting anything done?”

“Um…no.” She says.

“Alright, you’ll have to out here, I don’t allow more than one person in the room.”

“But she-“

“Sorry, thems the rules.” He says as he stands up to place some papers on the counter. “Need your license and for you to sign some things.”

Y/N swallows and hands him her license and then signs the forms. She slides the papers over to him and he puts them in a folder. He hands her back her license and comes around from the counter.

“I’ll be right out here when you get back.” Maggie gives her a reassuring smile.

“Ready?” Harry asks.

“Yeah.” Y/N says nervously. She knew it wasn’t going to be that bad, but she didn’t do well with needles, and she knew she was going to be a little bit exposed to a stranger so her nerves were shot.

She follows him down the hall to a staircase, and up they go.

“So, a little birthday present to yourself, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s nice, hope I can add the special experience.” He smiles and gestures for her to head into the private room. It was small so she understood now why Maggie couldn’t join.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He says to her softly. He must be able to tell she was nervous. “I’m gonna take really good care of you, okay? I like my customers to be happy.” He goes into a closet and pulls out a container of different piercings. “Pick your favorite.” He pulls on some gloves. “Just make sure to look, not touch.”

Y/N nods and peers into the container.

“I like this one, the darker clear jewel.” She points to it.

“Ah, so the electric pink isn’t your thing?” He jokes and grabs the piercings she wants. She laughs nervously as he sterilizes it. “So…” He looks her up and down. “You’re not going to want to wear anything high waisted for a while, and you can’t go swimming either.”

“Okay.” She looks down at herself, now feeling stupid for wearing a tucked in short sleeve shirt with high waisted shorts. “I’ll be able to wear these low, it’s no problem.”

“It’s a popular trend right now.”

“They’re just flattering.” She laughs nervously again and he smiles. She watches as he puts something on a q-tip and he looks at her.

“Are you wearing a bra with that?”

“Um…yes?” She had to be blushing by now.

“Could you just tuck your shirt up in it?”

“Oh! Sure.”

She pulls her shirt up and does what he says, and then she lowers her shorts a little. He moves to stand in front of her and then he dips down to his knees, swabbing whatever is on the q-tip in and around her belly button. Y/N was sweating. She knew he must do this a million times a day, but it certainly wasn’t every day Y/N had a cute guy get on his knees in front of her.

“Just cleaning you up, sweetheart.” He must have notice her flinch when the q-tip hit her. “There we go.” He smiles up at her and stands to her feet again.

He sets the bed down so it doesn’t look like a chair anymore for her to lay on.

“Okay, hop on up and lay down for me.”

She nods and does as he says.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited, but I’m really nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart. Like I said, I’m gonna take really good care of you.”

Y/N was screaming internally. She wanted to tell him to keep calling her pet names. For whatever reason it was relaxing her. His was voice was also deep and he had a nice British accent, so it was all just very soothing.

“I’m just going to squeeze here for a second to get the area ready.” He pinches down right at the top her belly button.

She flinches involuntarily when he first touches her. Y/N’s stomach was sensitive, it always had been. She takes a deep breath once he’s done. She looks away when she sees him grab the needle.

“Alright, now you’re going to feel the needle.” He says as he presses it through her.

She gasps, biting her bottom lip and pinching her eyes closed. It was over before she knew it, but shit she hated needles.

“Dis great sweetheart, all done. Just need to crew the top of the jewel on and clean it up.” He smiles at her.

“Thanks.” She lets out a breath.

She flinched every time he touched her stomach. He gets the top of the jewel on and cleans the area up. He explains how long it’ll take to heal, and since it was summer it was fine to go in the water, and he touches her lower stomach at about where she could go up to.

“Just don’t be in there along, especially if it’s a lake.”

“Yeah, stagnant water is pretty gross.” She giggles.

“Exactly! No baths either, just as gross. If you’re in the shower it’s okay to get it wet, just don’t let it get beat under the water, yeah?”

“Okay.” She smiles up at him.

“I’m just going to put my hand on your shoulder so I can lift this back up, and I just want you to sit a moment.”

She nods and her eyes flutter closed a moment as his hand reaches her shoulder, and she slowly sits up. She feels the pinch of the jewel as she does so and winces. She can see it in the mirror before her and she smiles.

“Like it so far? You’ll be able to see it closer in a moment.”

“Yeah! Thank you so much.”

“Oh, my pleasure.” He grabs his card and hands it to her. “Okay, now for the aftercare, this is really important.” He goes into the closet and grabs a can of saltwater spray. “You’ll want to get some little paper cups and q-tips, first thing in the morning and before you go to bed you’ll clean it out. Then a few times a day just spritz it with the spray. The less you touch it the better. These heal from the outside in, so it actually takes six months to a year for it to heal altogether, and then you can change the jewel all you want. You’ve got my card, so please, call me anytime if you have questions. The only stupid question you could have is the one you don’t ask.” She giggles at that and he smiles. “Take my hand, I’ll help you hop down.”

She does so and slowly gets off the chair. She blinks a few times, but she’s alright.

“Lightheaded at all? That can happen afterwards.” He gives her hand a squeeze.

“I think I’m okay.”

He nods and lets go of her hand. She steps closer to the mirror so she can inspect her new piercing, and she beams at herself.

“It looks so good, thank you so much. I’m so happy with it. I’ve wanted this for a long time, and it feels great to have it done.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I like when my customers are happy. Come back and see me anytime.”

“I will.”

He leads her back down the stairs with her to ring her up.

“Do you live around here?” He asks as he gets the order together on the computer.

“About an hour away, why?”

“Well, that’s the only aftercare spray I trust and they sell it locally here.” He gets up and grabs a couple of more cans for her. “Take these on the house.” He winks at her. “But promise to come back for more when you run out.”

“I promise.” She smiles and puts them in her bag with the other can. “Thank you.”

“That’s be sixty altogether.” He slides her the receipt. “Gotta fill that out before I run your card, sweetheart.”

She leaves him a twenty dollar tip and gives him his card. He smiles big when he sees the tip and runs the card. She takes it back and puts it in her wallet.

“All set, Y/N?” Maggie asks, coming up to her. “I was just looking around at the shop.” She points towards the room where people could buy piercings and studs.

“Yeah, take a look.” She lifts her shirt slightly so her friend could see.

“It’s so cute! Love the jewel you chose.”

“Thanks.” Y/N looks at Harry. “Well, if I ever need anything else pierced, I’ll certainly be back. This was a great experience.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I also do tattoos if you feel like being especially brave.” He smirks.

“Definitely won’t be coming in for that, but another piercing for sure.”

“Fair enough. Remember, if you have questions, my number’s on the card.”

“Thanks, I’ll definitely reach out if I need to.”

He nods and watches her leave. She hands Maggie her keys, not feeling up to driving.

“Oh god.” She says as she sits down. “Definitely going to take some getting used to.”

“It’s an adjustment for sure. So, was he as short with you upstairs as he was when we first walked in?”

“Not at all! He was super nice, he kept calling me sweetheart. Oh my god, Maggie…”

“What?” She chuckles.

“I got so nervous, before we got started he, like, knelt in front of me to clean me up…”

“Oh, that’s hot.”

“I wasn’t expecting it at all. I know it’s just part of the job so it’s no big deal on his end, but-“

“How often does a guy get on his knees?”

“Exactly! It was…intimate. He made me feel really comfortable. I nearly lost it when he started talking about aftercare.”

“You’ve read one too many erotic novels, Y/N.” She laughs. “He seemed pretty adamant about you calling him, maybe you should find an excuse.”

“He did ask if I lived around here…but that was just to make sure I had plenty of the cleaning spray. He gave me two extra cans for free.”

“You should ask him if you’re cleaning it right, like, explain to him what you’re doing, and then just see where the conversation goes.”

“It’s probably just the shop number…” She looks down at the card and her eyes grow wide. “Oh my god…he wrote in pen and put his cell number on it!” Her and Maggie squeal. “Okay…maybe I’ll call him. He’s really cute.”

“Plus…it’s kind of hot that he works at a tattoo place.”

“Super hot, I don’t know what it is about it. I wouldn’t mind hearing him call me sweetheart again. I wonder how often he does that.”

“Guess you won’t know until you call him.”

“I guess so.” She smiles and bites her bottom lip as she looks out the window. Best start to a birthday ever.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #tattooartist!Harry #piercer!harry

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alex-r-v · 3 years

Text

Yes James- Bucky x Reader Drabble

Pairings: fwb!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, kinda cheating but not really, crying, swearing, smut for a quick second

A/n: This is the first fic I'm posting on Tumblr, I'm sorry for spelling/typing errors. Or if I switch between using 'you' and 'I'. ~Alex

The plan was simple, but movies should've taught me it never is. Bucky, and you had been struggling to find someone so you went to each other. You laid out rules with him the morning after your first time-

You're simply friends that fuck

If the other started seeing someone everything stopped

And no feelings

You and Buck had been friends for years, and the talk of having sex had come up multiple times. Only now- now it was really happening. Days turned to months, turned to almost a year. Neither of you had tried to find someone else, what you two had was enough for the time. The only issue was as time did go by, you started to catch feelings. Getting naked infront of him got harder, and acted like nothing happened the morning after hurt. You started falling in love with your best friend, and the only thing left to do was tell him. It seemed like you two had gone exclusive at this point. Anytime you were out Bucky would somehow find you, and pry whoever's hand were on you off.

So, with shaky legs you walked up to his apartment door knocking lightly on it. You knew he was home, so when he didn't answer you knocked once more. When the door still didn't open, you naturally assumed he was in the shower. After a long day at work he always liked to rid his body of any dirt or grime. He'd even given you a key, so you could come be there when he got out. Fumbling to get the key in because of nerves caused you take a few tries before getting the door open.

The place was silent which only started to worry you. Pulling out your phone, and dialing Bucky's number as you walked further in. The sound of his phone ringing sounded off from his room. With quick strides you threw the door open to calling out his name to see your worst fear. Bucky's head was in between a women's thighs, and a gag was pushed into her mouth. Both pairs of eyes shot to you as hot tears rimmed your eyes.

How could you be so naive? Neither of you ever specified you couldn't fuck other people. You quickly shut the door and ran out of his apartment. Of course Bucky was seeing other people, he's Bucky Barnes. The guy that had sex with almost everyone he could- leading him to make the agreement with you. Without realizing it the tears had started to pour down your cheeks, as you continued to run out of the building.

Only once you were in your car did you really start to sob. Had stupid could you have been? Falling in love with you best friend, the man that jokingly made a rule about catching feelings. Countless movies, and tv shows should've prepared you for this heartbreak. Minutes passed as you sat in your car sobbing, before the tears finally started to calm giving you a chance to drive home.

When you finally got home too barley made it to the couch. Plummeting onto it, and pulling yourself into a little ball. You stayed like this for hours, tears coming and going as time passed. Soon you fell asleep, all the crying wearing you out. When you woke back up the door to your home was opened, and you jumped up.

"It's just be doll."

Rubbing your eyes, you tried to focus on the figure in the doorway. When they finally did, the voice also registered in your mind. More tears than you knew you had filled you eyes, as you tired your hardest to hold them back.

Bucky stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "Thought we should talk."

Clearing your throat trying to make sure you voice didn't waver- though it did- you answered, " 'Bout what?"

Bucky sighed, setting his key on the little table next to the couch. He sat down putting his elbows on his knees and looking straight ahead at the tv.

"Sit."

His tone was soft, but still demanding. Against your better judgement you sat on the opposite end of the couch. Bucky looked you over, talking into account your bloodshot eyes, and puffy cheeks.

"What happened to 'no feelings'?" He tried to joke, but it fell flat. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "What happened Y/n?"

All you could do was shrug, knowing if you spoke a fresh wave of tears would flood over you.

"Come on doll, you gotta talk to me." Bucky practically pleaded, silently asking you to also look at him.

You look straight ahead like he had been doing, "There's nothing to talk about Buck."

He huffed getting annoyed, "Yes there is. You saw me with someone else, and ran away crying. You also showed up to my apartment unannounced, and I know you weren't looking for sex."

"Can't a friend go to see their friend?" You blew off his first statement.

"We aren't just friends though, and you know that."

There was no getting out of this now. You contemplated trying to lie more, but decided against it.

Your voice was quiet, and he had to strain his ears to hear you properly.

"I didn't mean to Buck."

"Didn't mean to what?" He questioned, even though he already knew the answer.

You looked down to your lap, "Fall in love with you."

Yeah he knew, but hearing it. Damn, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"You love me?"

Slowly more tears slid down my cheeks, "I was gonna tell you, because I thought- I thought you might feel the same. I didn't really think about us seeing other people in a non serious way." A small sob left my mouth as I continued, "You've been so good to me, and I guess I got lost in that."

He was silent for a second, and I felt my heart shattering.

"You really love me?"

You nodded yoir head, finally making eye contact with him. "Yes James... I love you."

The tears started falling faster, and everything hurt in the worst way possible.

"I'm so sorry Y/n."

You close you eyes, trying to will the tears to just stop. You kept them closed as you heard your best friend stand up, and walk to your door. You shut them tighter when when he left, and cried harder when you opened them to see his key still sitting where he set it down.

And that how it ended.

That's how you lost you best friend, and the man you fell in love with.

@dulceslibrary @balenciagabucky

#bucky barns x y/n #bucky fic #fwb!bucky #x y/n #mcu #angtsy #balenciagabucky3k

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

Summary: Hanamaki finally seals your fate by proposing to you- with a crappy ring that is.

Pairings: Takahiro Hanamaki x fem! reader

Word count: 6.9k

Genre: absolute fluff and crack, curse words

A/N: not me screaming when i had this idea, I've never felt more single in my life- brb bawling my eyes out- also let's pretend their in the same classes✋

Well, fate isn't something to be entirely trusted upon and neither should Hanamaki.

"Aw, shit."

He cusses when you bump into him, considering his incredibly tall figure, you were caught off guard on who you even crashed into. A small clink sound lands on the floor as you immediately face the boy who was looking at the ground, quite weirdly searching his pockets.

"Sorry- wait you're Hanamaki right?" You asked him, familiar with his hair color. You've seen him play countless of times due to the support of the school for each of their games yet you've never been this close with him. With his state, you immediately question what's got him so frantic.

He eyes the pen that was dead on the floor and he pouts before crouching down to reach it before he dusts off the dirt on it. He opens the cap of it before mindlessly writing on his hand and frowning even more when the ink didn't held its usual consistency- every stroke of a word had it loosing its pigment.

"Man, 'Kawas gonna kill me." He sighs before putting his hands and pen in his pocket as he looks at you surprised. How can he dismiss that he'd bump into you? He immediately bows in a way to apologize to you, completely forgetting that you were the one to hit him.

You knew he was pertaining to the well known setter but you were solely confused in what he was so worried about. Looking at the pen in his pocket, you saw how the ink was full but there were black spillage in the inside. You raise your eyebrow in confusion.

Did he just drop a new pen?

"I'm sorry I dropped your pen- I can let you borrow mine." You propose to him as he takes the pen in his hands admiring it like a wound in someone's arm. Seeing how you were scrambling in your bag to reach for your pencil case, his eyes sparkled at how it contained numerous pens, highlighters and mechanical pencils.

"Looking at the murder you caused, I'm simply asking for more than one pen then."

You tilt your head in curiosity but instead you opened your pencil case as he digs his hand in there picking three pens making you want to scoff at how he picked the gel pens that were your favorite. He looked at each one, writing on his palm if everything was working. He raises an eyebrow at you making you question if this was a fever dream because of how random it was- he acted like he was in a stationary section and it benefitted him that this particular section was free.

He then takes your hand causing you to internally yelp at his actions. Your eyes trail to what he was writing, you noticed it was his name instead. You look up at him as he smiled. Once he finishes writing, he extends his hand out while with the other hand held a pen ready for you to take.

"What's your name?" He asks processing on your features and asking himself why he's seen you dozens of times yet he's yet to get your name.

"Y/N." You say as he gestures for his hand as if telling you to write it. Somewhat following your instincts, you write your name on his hand. After it, he peeks the spelling of it and then casually shakes your hand as introduction.

"See you around, Y/N! You saved my ass with those pens so I guess I owe you one."

"Those are expensive."

"Now hold on there-"

That was how you met and the universe couldn't even joke about how they put you two together.

Now here you two are, invested in a stare off as Matsukawas sleepy eyes often switch his gaze between you and his best friend.

"Makki, it's in a week."

"I specifically remember it's the week after that."

"You two are hopeless." Issei comments making you laugh as Makki pouts at how you agreed with him. Nevertheless, Matsukawa leans his head on his arm ready to fall asleep at any moment. You return to arranging your notes while Makki twirls a pen in his hands while glancing at you once in a while.

Truth be told, it seems that fate still worked its way to the both of you. Ever since your-rather unique- encounter, a friendship was bound to happen. He surely made an impression on you and how could you miss to not be around him? Soon enough, you were also introduced to his teammates and you disliked how it strengthened your bond with him. There was comfort in his presence and to see him fool around with his teammates always radiated an amazing energy between you and him.

You also wanted to thank Oikawa for being somewhat the reason your conversation led to where you are now.

"What'd the pen do to make you this- scared?" You asked as he puts both hands behind his head, leaning on the seat.

"It's a scary pen when it belongs to Oikawa." You turn to him confused as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, ears perking up at how interesting it was.

"You're telling me you don't own a single pen and you always borrow Oikawas?" He scoffs with a smile before looking at you.

"Of course I bring pens, it's just better if it was from him." You let out a loud laugh, finding it hard to believe this was the sole reason Oikawa would commit murder on him. Hanamaki smiles at the sound of your laugh before shaking his head, at awe at the situation.

It was a coincidence how Oikawa always found a way to strike a nerve to Hanamaki when you visit them in the gym. He knew that beyond his teammates calm composure was a boy who undoubtedly likes you. Ever since Hanamaki returned the pen to him, he knew it wasn't his and in his mind, he asked himself who could've lent him a pen, more so that he had three brand new ones.

So when he sees you tagging beside him, he's taken his first lead to figure the two of you out. After a few more observations, he's convinced that you two were just blind to the feelings that were lingering around.

He's told Iwaizumi about it but all he got was a lecture on how he should let Hanamaki take it easy with asking you out. Which he also argued since it was taking too long, making Iwaizumi land him a smack to the head.

He had his boundaries, maybe not for himself, but for his friends he was more than willing to wait for this relationship to come together.

"So- a date? That's cool right? I mean arcades and shit."

"Makki, you're a loser."

"Arcades are awesome shut up."

"Yeah, for sure. Like Y/N is interested in 'arcades and shit'." Mattsun chuckles as Hanamaki lets out another pout as he sinks in his bed.

"I mean- we've gone on hang outs, she likes them anyway!" He argues making Mattsun shake his head with an amused smirk on his lips.

"So you're telling me you've actually had dates with her then?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs making the other boy groan at the lack of response. Hanamaki raises his head, pursing his lips at the actual thought.

You have actually gone on multiple dates with him. If you could even call it that. To Makki, he thought they were just subtle friendly things but he realizes how he's actually grown some fondness in each place.

"Y/N no I'm telling you- if I were the mastermind, we'd be successful." He argues before taking a sip from his drink. You rolled your eyes as you let your mind ran through the scenarios of having a heist with him and the boys.

You two just finished a heist movie and now you had to endure Makkis fantasies of how it would go down if the characters were him and the rest of the volleyball team. He was so invested in it that you actually had an entire plot and characterization for each teammate.

He argued that he'd be the best mastermind to ever conjure a plan for a heist. A stealthy ninja is what he says he mimics. You tried to argue that Iwaizumi would be good at it, since you noticed how responsible and at control he was but it had Hanamaki listing his reasons.

"No one would ever notice me! Because you know what- their attention would be on Oikawa! Then boom, get in the getaway car with a shit ton of money and thanks to who? Me of course." You let out a laugh making him stop his occupied thoughts to take a look at you. He adores the sound of it too much, especially since he was the usual cause of it. He sees the way you were wiping your eyes with the scenarios he'd told you.

Then your laughter slowly fades when you started to eat again as Makki admires you and how you've effortlessly got his mind to set more dates just to see you this happy.

You look up from your previous position, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Wait, where am I in the heist then?"

He looks at you, almost blurting out the initial idea he had for you in this specific role.

Honestly, I'd spend the money on you. Take you anywhere you wanted to go, Y/N.

That was what he wanted to say but his mouth translated it to a different saying.

"You could die-"

"Makki!" You shouted playfully, ruffling his hair. He laughs but unknowingly, his hand lands on top of yours when you sat back down.

"Excuse you, I can be a good distraction and assistance for action." You commented making him scoff.

"Yeah like you'd be able to hold a gun for a second."

"Please, I had Oikawa beg me to delete a photo of him."

"Okay maybe you are powerful."

You laughed once again, not even feeling how right it was for you to be holding hands like this. It felt comforting yet it brought your heart to speed up like it was in a marathon. You wondered if Makki felt the same, or was this another act of friendliness?

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt though." He whispers, making you smile and blush at the same time. As if it was another point on the score board for how many times he's had your heart go on a frenzy.

"Well, that's what the great mastermind is for right? To keep us safe and succeed?" You say, making him give a gentle squeeze to your hand, as you glanced down on them enjoying the way it looked.

As if I'm gonna let anyone lay a hand on you, Y/N. You're safe with me always.

After a few sly times where he'd hold your hand while you crossed the street or even tugging on your jacket when passing through a huge crowd so he doesn't lose you, he's realized he would absolutely drop the stars for you. He doesn't know whether he should feel terrified because of how he could put your friendship at risk but then he feels- almost relieved that the first person he could ever love is you.

It shouldn't even be difficult to ask you to hang out. You'd usually respond a second after he asks you, it's not even that big of a deal.

Now it's different.

He's finally gotten a clutch on his feelings and he thinks about his next moves. He often just let things happen, loving the way the moments just flowed naturally and perfect in some way but now he's choosing his words since he didn't plan on confessing in such a dorky way- especially when he just says it out loud without proper practice.

"Why don't you ask Oikawa for help then?" Issei suggests making the boy shake his head at the thought already.

"Do you know how much blackmail that idea comes with? He'll never live it down." Hanamaki says as he scrolled through his phone, almost frowning at the thought of humiliation coming from their captain.

"C'mon! He knows a lot of shit about flirting and dates! Maybe even help you in confessing, idiot."

He thinks about that deeply. Each member of the team would have completely diverse answers. As of the mean time, the only proper suggestions he'd get is from Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Mattsun. Though Mattsun has given him plenty of advices, he knew Oikawa was at the top for someone's idea of romance. The man has fangirls, he's obviously heard and experienced many hopeless romantic scenes in his life.

Iwaizumi would've actually been a lot of help knowing the guy is very good at maintaining control and responsibility. He'd give the proper date ideas, the mood to set. He looked like the perfect blueprint for Hanamaki to copy. He also believed that Iwaizumi would think nothing of these advices so it's a win-win if you ask him.

"Right, okay. I got this."

"Why me though?" Iwaizumi asks as Hanamaki spikes another ball.

"Look Iwa- I genuinely trust your judgment more. I just need help." Iwaizumi chuckles before collecting another ball.

"Fine fine. Just meet me after practice."

Hanamaki cheers when he hears him, even smiling now that he can figure out a way to show you how much he likes you.

Sure, he's doing it unintentionally sometimes. Tiny signs that should show you how he is absolutely in love with you. He'd show this in various ways as well. It comes as an instinct in some way. He'd hit you with a "let's have lunch" and you'd gladly accept. Mattsun has pointed out that Makki has already made a move on you countless of times but it had Makki questioning the depths of being friendly and going through courting you.

You haven't even made things official yet these so-called dates had your classmates wondering how your relationship started, even if it hasn't. Makki would always lean his head on your shoulder during lunch, to rest his brain from the lessons. For you, it's nothing. Makki has always been like this after you got comfortable with each other. This affectionate side of him even had Mattsun wonder why on Earth would he ask for help when he clearly doesn't need it.

The three of you are now seated in a lecture, boredom crossing your minds but Mattsun's mind was rattled by Hanamaki. After their conversation about asking help from Oikawa, he thought that Makki would actually go through the plan. Looking back on his motives with you, he just doesn't see a reason why he needs assistance from the setter. He can handle this all on his own, so scribbling down on a piece of paper, he throws it to Hanamaki who awakens by the action.

Hanamaki yawns as he opens the crumpled paper, his eyes widening and cheeks heating at the group of words.

'You can literally just confess to her now, even without shittykawa.'

He glares at Mattsun while the other boy shrugs with an expression that says "seriously, it's not that deep." He huffs before grabbing a pen and replying to his previous statement, then throwing it again.

'Try confessing to the girl you like during a lecture, Sherlock.'

Mattsun chuckles as Makki crosses his arms in front of his chest. His eyes land on you, who is fixated on the lecture. He smiles softly at the idea of a date with you, but this faint moment was ruined when Mattsun directly throws the ball of paper to Hanamakis face, earning a chuckle from some of his classmates.

He opens with eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at the shot.

'Not now dumbass, after classes. Just go up to her and say you like her, it's that easy dude.'

Hanamaki turns to him mocking his words while Mattsun rolls his eyes as Makki writes again. As he was about to throw the paper in Mattsuns direction, a student raised their hand hitting the paper and it suddenly landed on the floor beside you instead. The boys had their eyes widen as you saw the paper.

In a flash, Hanamaki picks up the piece of paper before you could grab a hold of it and you let out a gasp when he suddenly appeared in front of you. You blinked at him as he slowly walked away, wide eyed, to avoid conflict with the teacher.

You and Mattsun share a look together as you looked away, utterly speechless at what just happened. When you looked away, Mattsun hides his laughter by stuffing his face in his arm as Makkis cheeks never grew out of its red shade.

Meanwhile, Mattsun finally held a memory that he can never forget.

"It's not a big deal. You guys have been friends for so long. I don't think Y/N would mind." Iwaizumi comments making Hanamaki silent.

Can you really feel the same way?

A year of knowing you- should that be enough to fall in this deep? Is there even a requirement before someone can confess? Because in a span of time knowing you, there wasn't a moment where he regretted anything. He could thank the universe for one stupid pen, maybe even Oikawa. Everything that led to where you are now, he's never been more contented in his life.

During movies, your favorite spot was to lean your head on his shoulder. To just sling your arm around his waist on the way home, holding his hand while walking through crowds, it just fits. No matter where you were, what you were doing with him, it seemed like there wasn't an extra space in the puzzle pieces, it all connected.

But you two couldn't figure it out for yourselves.

"Well, does every confession need some sort of grand gesture?" He asks Iwaizumi. The ace bites his lips before kicking a rock on the path he was walking on.

"I don't really know. What does Y/N like anyway?"

"Hopefully me." Hanamaki jokes, but he deeply wanted it to be real. He figures if all of this asking for help was going to guarantee him something good, better yet, a yes from your lips. But first, he had to answer Iwaizumis question.

"She likes simple things- you know how she likes it when I like hold her stuff and all? She also likes those weird food thingys at one date-or hang out we had- you know that scent that reminds you of a romance movie-"

"Makki, you know her this well and you're nervous for nothing. I'm sure that she'll love whatever you do- you're friends for a reason." Iwaizumi says making Hanamaki sigh, hearing those words again.

"Exactly! That's the problem. Fuck- I can't even act like I don't like her. Am I being too obvious or friendly? I don't know where the line ends or starts. I shouldn't get nervous cause it's her- she doesn't care what I do- she's happy with whatever but I just want it to be.. perfect." He rants and ends it with a tired sigh. God, he was getting frustrated. At this point his feelings were overwhelming him, he just needed an outlet for it.

He can't just act like the sight of your smile doesn't make him smile as well, or even just seeing your sleepy state when you walk into class. If his heart didn't flutter whenever you were around, maybe by then you couldn't call it admiration but he just fell and there wasn't a way to stop him.

He didn't wanna stop either.

"Mattsun." You say as Mattsun lets out another laugh as you roll your eyes. It was after practice and since Takahiro couldn't walk you home because he told you he had to talk to Iwaizumi about something, Issei was the one to walk you home.

"This is gold." He states making you shove him a bit. He smiles when he sees you pout. This is where he decides. He could literally say how Hanamaki was asking him for advices like you are right now, but a side of him just wants to see what Makki could do. It was all too funny for him, even if hated how oblivious you two were.

If Hanamaki was falling for you with each day, you did the same. It was inescapable. You met him during second year and the fact that he had you tugging on your heart strings, it was something you can't ignore.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm studying, 'Hiro. What's up?" You asked him as he raised an eyebrow at you. You stopped writing to look at him fully.

"We're at a mall." He states like you didn't know. It was bizarre to go to a mall cafe and your purpose was to study when you were with the spontaneous Hanamaki. That's on you for getting distracted on your strict teachers subject.

"Yes, Makki. I know that." He lets out a pft then takes the notebook of yours, closing it. Even putting on the caps of your pens and placing them back in your pen pouch. He also grabs your bag and placing all of those items inside.

You didn't stop him though. You've had enough with 'studying either way'. You'd die if saw how you weren't even taking notes, you were actually writing about how beautiful his eyes were. You were just purely lucky that he didn't care what you were writing because he thought it was about school.

"Happy now?" You asked him as he nods with a childish grin.

"Super. Let's go, cutie." Your eyes widened with his statement so you turn your head away to sling the backpack on your shoulder but he stops you before you could.

He removes his hoodie and hands it to you, making you stare at him.

"What for?"

"It's hot- well duh it's cold, Y/N. C'mon I wanna go to cinema. " He says nonchalantly as you take the hoodie and wear it. What causes you to stop midway was when he pulled down your blouse to prevent it from rising up when you wore his jacket. After placing your arms in, you blushed at minimal gesture.

It made Hanamaki let out a cough, when he did it like a reflex, not even thinking about it.

"Cutie huh?" You teased making him roll his eyes, though he was thankful that you broke the silence.

"Yeah no shut it."

There were many more memories that could list out why you liked him but maybe they just held the same reason.

"Leave him a note then if you can't say it in person." Mattsun suggests, even though he wishes he could've said something else. He doesn't know if that was a good suggestion or not. This could ruin whatever Makki was planning on doing. He should ask him about his plan later on so he can tell you what not to do in order for his best friend to succeed.

You reached the front of your house as you gave Issei a hug, to thank him. He pats your hair as your pull away from him.

"Hey, you've got this. It's you and Makki." He says smiling, assuring you. You nod at him as you sent a wave, him doing the same then walking away.

When you entered your room, your phone rang. Seeing Makkis name light up your room had you answering it in a heartbeat.

"Makki, what's up?"

"Hey, I just called to say I'm sorry I couldn't walk you home today. " He says running his fingers through his hair. He did want to walk with you but he trusted Mattsun. He couldn't waste the time Iwaizumi gave him for advice.

"It's fine, 'Hiro. Mattsun and I are fine." He smiles at what you said, while you left your phone on the nightstand you decided to change out of your uniform. While Makki decides on what to say next.

"Hey Y/N?" He calls for you, once you were done dressing up, you took the phone lying down on your bed.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go out, for real this time?"

"I'm gonna go sleep." He says, biting his tongue, despising how he couldn't say it. He hears you yawn on the other end of the line.

"That's a lie but night Makki Makki!" You said chuckling as his ears turned red at the nickname. He shakes his head with a smile.

"Goodnight, dumbie."

"Hey! I called you a decent nickname."

"Wow okay then. Goodnight, princess."

Hold up, he said what?

I said that?

He quickly ends the call before you could let out a comment on what he just said. A wave of panic rushes to him not knowing your reaction. You covered your face with the pillows the surrounded you, letting out a frustrated scream.

Fuck.

The morning comes and Hanamakis heart was racing like he going to attend a deadly match but in reality he was just going to confess. He's set all the things that he needed for today, mostly the materials but he himself wasn't nearly as ready.

He's going to wear a uniform. How the fuck do you make that look presentable and polished? Should he wear a new hoodie for you to wear afterwards? Just- how?

He's been staring at himself for too long then he hears his parents call for him saying that Mattsukawa was at his front porch. He sighs before grabbing his bag and heading out of his room.

"So you ready?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs. He wanted it to end right away but then again he wants things to slow down while he sees your reaction when does it.

"Fuck no. Iwaizumi helped me with a few things, he said something about gifts so I searched for some." Mattsukawa nods, as he thinks about what you were up to. Can it actually happen now? The two idiots would finally have the guts to confess on the same day?

"Honestly, this will be very entertaining. What time?"

"I was thinking kind of like after school." He says making Mattsukawa agree with him. It benefits the both of you. Never in a rush to admit, it could also give Makki some time to accomplish some of his plans.

"Do you think it'll go ok?" Hanamaki asks, almost nervous for his answer. Mattsukawa only smiles, knowing the possible ending.

"Yeah."

Betrayer. Oikawa thinks.

He lets out a pout of annoyance and when he spots you, he immediately walks over to you before Hanamaki could.

"Morning Oikawa! Have you seen-"

"Y/N-chan! I'll walk you to class today!" He says sweetly making you question in what was going on. He sees you peer your head over his shoulder, looking for Hanamaki which made him scoot a bit so your vision was blocked. Realizing that Hanamaki probably hasn't arrived yet, you shrugged.

"Okay, Tooru."

As Oikawa slings his arm around your shoulder, he could feel Takahiros stare as he walked with you. Even Iwaizumi had to double take on what he just saw.

"What's with him?" Hanamaki asks, feeling a slight burn in his heart when he sees you laughing with the pretty setter.

"I don't know, maybe he's just bugging her." Iwaizumi comments, making Makki roll his eyes. Mattsun takes notice of his behavior and lets out a chuckle.

"Aww, seriously. It's Oikawa! He's not going to steal your girl." Hanamaki blushes at his words and the boys eye his reaction, making them laugh at the change. Makki rolls his eyes before letting out a sigh, an act as if to reassure himself that things would go according to plan.

When Makki enters the room and meets your eyes, you already flash him a smile gesturing for him to seat with them. Oikawa sends a glare in his way making Mattsun lazily raise an eyebrow to the setter. Oikawa turns his attention to you once again, his chin on his palm as he stares at you.

"You're so pretty Y/N-chan! Wouldn't want that to go to waste do we?" Your ears couldn't really believe what you just heard. A sea of gasps echoed through the room when the compliment left Oikawas mouth. Murmurs of how luck you were started to spread and Makki was stood frozen.

"Flirting with my best friend isn't cute, shittykawa." Hanamaki comments, a distinct tone in his voice that didn't sound all too jokingly. The word best friend rings in your head as you actually felt a strike to your heart with his words.

How can you confess like this when you're down to rejection?

You felt like Hanamaki gave you a wake up call. Is this really the farthest you could go? Just friends? You let out a sigh, suddenly throwing away your previous plans of admitting your feelings for him. You gripped the pen in your hand as you tried not to be controlled by the pain.

Mattsukawa sees how your hand was trembling, replaying what Makki said, he nudges the boy next to him who was busy giving a cold shoulder to Oikawa. Mattsukawa prays that Hanamaki realizes what he just said.

Hanamaki feels the harsh nudge of his best friend making him look your way, a downcast evident in your features. Before he could ask you what's got you upset, the teacher walks in making Oikawa and Iwaizumi leave. Oikawa passes by Hanamaki making the tension even more noticeable.

Mattsukawa grips Hanamakis arm, to stop his mouth from sending a snarky comment and to hold him back from a glare. Hanamaki sits in his usual place as he ponders on what's gotten you this down. Was it Oikawa? What did he tell you? Could it be something that included him?

He sincerely hopes it doesn't involve him or else his hearts going to keep aching with jealousy.

What the fuck?

That was the only question that lingered in Hanamakis head.

Throughout the day, he figured that he'd be able to avoid you without you knowing what he was doing but instead, he found himself getting distracted in the fact that you sat with Oikawa between breaks. He couldn't even focus where to put the gifts in, he's totally forgotten about his locker and the possibility of you finding about it makes him panic.

He just hated how he feels the envy consume him. It took him a while to not give in to it. He had to continue, if he didn't- he would cower away. He wasn't going to waste another chance because of Oikawa, he can promise you that.

"You think Oikawa knew something? Maybe he's actually stalling you." Mattsukawa suggests, to remind Hanamaki that he was sure the setter isn't a barrier to his plans.

"He said something to her- I just know it. She's distant with me." He says tiredly, Iwaizumi leans on his arm to whisper to Hanamaki.

"Maybe he figured out you were going to confess." Iwaizumi says shrugging, Hanamaki shakes his head.

Are you turning him down then if this was real?

A way to softly push him away and tell him that your friendship mattered more?

If this was the case, he's leading his heart to a trap.

And it went like this until Makki had to confront Oikawa, sick of the change in you. It was practice time so he had the setter to himself. He knew you were waiting for him so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He just wanted to be yours already.

"Oikawa, what did you tell her?" He asks quietly. Even if his heart held its beat because of jealousy, he's sure that the boy he was talking to had no interest in you the same way he has. Oikawa has never shown you signs of love or any affection at all. Sure, it was fun to be around him but he looked at you as a friend, a company he can find comfort in but who's to say Makki doesn't feel nervous?

"I didn't tell her anything what are you talking about?" The boy answers making Makki sigh.

"She's avoiding me. It doesn't make sense then." Oikawa raises an eyebrow at Takahiros expression. He looked so- distraught. It starts to sink in him how the lack of your presence takes a toll on his friend and there was the tiny ounce of regret that hits his mind.

When he sees Hanamaki open his locker to reveal a boquet of flowers, his eyes widen. He then closes them immediately, cursing himself for the misunderstanding.

"Isn't that what you were supposed to give Aika?" He asks, his throat dwelling with nervousness. Hanamaki furrows his eyebrows, evidently confused in how their classmate who he is even close to, got dragged into the situation.

"What-"

"Shit."

"Oikawa!"

I hate running.

He says to himself whie doing it, he's never ran this fast before. God, now everything was at rush. He had to pack his things immediately, make sure the sweat didn't cling to him like it did. He even had to rummage through his locker to make sure everything was inside his bag. Mattsukawa was also frantic. Iwaizumi was calm enough to knock some sense into Oikawa after Hanamaki tells the news on what exactly happened.

So here he was running to your neighborhood, flowers and all because he'd be dumb enough to be the guy in Oikawas misunderstood scenario.

"Oikawa!"

"Wait okay fuck I'm sorry- I might have heard something wrong earlier." He says, a hand to the back of his neck. Hanamaki isn't sure if he should feel relieved that Oikawa doesn't have any admiration towards or feel the fucking rage to strangle him for whatever led to this.

"What exactly did you hear anyway?"

"I can't just give the flowers to Aika. I can't act like an admirer of hers, I have to confess to her myself." Hanamaki says sighing as Iwaizumi and Mattsukawa nods.

Oikawa turns his back on the trio as he frowns at the idea of you and Hanamaki not being a couple. It seems that his friendly gestures didn't actually hold anything else, he'd fallen for Aika instead. Though he feels slightly pissed that Hanamaki led you on in some sort of way.

Once he sees you, he immediately goes your way in order for you to not witness the heartbreak that was about to unfold.

"Oikawa, I was planning to confess to Y/N. Mattsukawa suggested that I try to give her the flowers anonymously at first by letting Aika bring it to her but like I said, I didn't wanna look like an unknown loser." Hanamaki lets out a puff of annoyance as Oikawa rests his hand on the boys shoulder, now that tiny ounce of guilt grew and grew.

"I'm really really sorry, Makki." He says sincerely, Hanamaki sighs before nodding at Oikaws, accepting his apology knowing Iwaizumi could lecture the boy after his slip up.

"I need to go to Y/N now." He says but Kindaichi looks at his teammate with a water bottle in hand.

"Y/N-san left hours ago." He says as Hanamaki sends a glare towards Oikawa then he looks at Kunimi just to confirm Kindaichis statement. Kunimi nods before returning back to his unbothered state. Hanamaki lets out a scream of frustration as he dashes towards Mattsukawa and Iwaizumi, Oikawa being dragged along by his shirt.

"Oi, did you two fight?"

"Long-story short he thought I was giving the flowers to Aika. Now please, lecture the damn asshole- I need to find Y/N." He basically hands Oikawa to Iwaizumi who already landed a ball to the captains head as he runs off to his locker to leave immediately.

He could never adore someone else when you remained to stay at the top of his list- since no other name follows it.

He pats down his sweat with a towel before drinking water then spraying his cologne all around him. He was in front of your room door since your parents gladly invited him in while he mentions to be quiet at the sight of the boquet of flowers in hand and now it's finally happening. He was either going to face a prize or a bucket of tears.

Here goes nothing then.

He knocks on the door as you continued to scroll through your phone but you spoke, "It's open!"

He opens it softly, before stepping in your room, closing the door in the process. You look up from your phone only to get the life knocked out of you when you see Hanamaki.

"Hey Makki-"

"Y/N please I just need to tell you something okay."

He takes the vacant spot next to you on your bed as both your hearts pounded loudly with each second. Your mind couldn't stop racing at what he was going to say if it was just flat out rejection, meanwhile Hanamaki doubts what he bought you. He carefully takes your hand with his, caressing it gently while your cheeks were heating at the moment.

"Y/N I-"

You roll your eyes before ending the call, not even caring to know who called. Meanwhile, Makki wanted to stop himself from coughing from the embarrassment.

The phone rings. Oh, fuck me.

"Go on- really sorry." You say with a slight chuckle, as he smiles, thankful you read the room at how nervous he was. Instead, he went to his bag to find a certain box. Once he finds the blue box, he takes your palm and places the object on it.

You smiled at him you opened the box, praying that you don't let out a squeal when you see what's inside.

"Paper rings?" You say chuckling as Hanamakis eyes widen, threatened to pop out of his sockets since he was in full disbelief. You laughed as Hanamaki tried to get the back from you but you ran from your bed to wear the damn thing.

"Y/N!" He yells trying to reach the box from your hands but your laughter echoes through the room.

You're too fucking cute for me. You think to yourself.

"It's a perfect fit on me, Takahiro." You say even holding out your hand with the paper ring as Hanamaki hides his face on a pillow, an attempt to hide the humiliation. He can never bounce back from this. Where was the actual matching rings that he bought? The one with yours and his initials were embedded on? Did he leave it on his desk when he was trying to figure out your ring size? He was truly fucked.

When you tried to reach for him, the ring broke since it was surrounded by tape and it didn't really held strength to it. Realizing that it was folded paper, you opened it seeing scribbles and doodles from Makki.

Y/N's ring size is 6 maybe 7?

Get the flowers that Iwaizumi suggested. Which flower was it again? The ones that symbols love? Fuck it.

Does she prefer me with this perfume or not?

She smells amazing all the time, I hate it.

God, I like her too much it's unbelievable.

I feel like I'm proposing to her but I'm not complaining.

You immediately drop the paper to look at him, switching your gaze between him and the paper. You hid your face in your hands as you wondered if this was actually reality. Hanamaki likes you back? Proposing? It was overwhelmingly cute.

Hanamaki lifts his head from the pillow and he sees you looking like you were embarrassed for him. He immediately goes to you, hands on yours as he tries to lift them off your face.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" He teases, hopefully it was able to grab your attention, and it did. You slap his chest from how flustered you were as he laughs before taking you in his arms, playing with your hair as your mind goes blank.

"Okay maybe the secret is out but I'm serious, Y/N. I like you- so fucking much it makes me wanna buy all the shit you want if we succeed in a heist- and I never wanna stop feeling this. The ring is crappy but I've got the actual one in my room so" He pulls away from your embrace as he lifts your chin to meet with his face who was intoxicatingly close.

"Do you accept my proposal of being my girlfriend?"

"If I said no?" You teased with a smile as he chuckles before locking his lip with yours, his hand finding its way to your cheek as you immediately kiss back, the pieces finally clicking in its rightful place. He deepens the kiss as your hand finds its way to the nape of his hair, pulling him closer while his own hands make a trip to your waist who he soon finds addicting.

He pulls away, caressing your cheek as your forehead touched, smiles plastered on either faces.

"I gladly accept, 'Hiro."

"Not like I'll take no for an answer, princess."

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#hanamaki x reader #mattsukawa x reader #mattsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tooru #hajime iwaizumi #aoba johsai #xine's world of romance

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Champion

Request: omg i saw that u opened requests again and i’m in love w ur writing 🥺 so can i request a fluffy cedric diggory imagine where he wins the triwizard tournament and finally ends up confessing that he loves you bc he thought he was gonna die? tysm!! (i can’t handle his death so this is my way of coping).

A/N: Same nonnie, same. My first Cedric request!! I loved writing it and I can only hope I got his characterisation right! There’s a ton of fluff but a little bit of angst as well because I had to, sorry! I hope you enjoy and I hope I’ve done your request justice! Enjoy reading, love to you all!

Warnings: some swearing, some angst, some fluff!

Word count: 2.5k

“Cedric, are you sure you want to enter? You know what this competition holds.”

“I have to try, (Y/N). Others from Hogwarts are entering; it probably won’t even be my name they pull from the Goblet.”

You nod, his words reassuring you slightly. However, the worry and panic still eat away at your gut as he places the piece of parchment with his name written in his best handwriting into the Goblet.

--------------------------------

Cedric keeps an arm around your shoulder at the choosing ceremony. Your legs bounces to the rhythm of your heart; nerves beginning to get the better of you.

“Calm down, you’re jostling the table.” Cedric whispers into your ear.

You calm the bouncing of your leg, replying, “I can’t help it if I’m nervous.”

“It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

You flash him a small smile, pretending that his words have reassured you but as you watch the flame of the Goblet of Fire flicker, dread pools low in your gut.

The little pieces of parchment are spat out of the Goblet one by one. Each name announced by Dumbledore as the newly appointed champions make their way to a side room to await further instruction.

Victor Krum; champion for Durmstrang.

Fleur Delacour; champion for Beauxbatons.

Dumbledore’s hand snatches the final piece of parchment spat out from the Goblet of Fire.

His voice rings loud and clear through the Great Hall, “The Hogwarts’ champion: Mr. Cedric Diggory.”

Cheers ring out from the Hogwarts’ student body, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. You force a smile across your face as Cedric hand squeezes your shoulder before he heads to the front of the hall to take his piece of parchment from Dumbledore. You watch him walk through a side door

It’s as if the rug has been pulled out from under you; leaving you gasping for breath and grabbing for help.

You lose focus; you don’t hear the Goblet of Fire give one more name, and you don’t hear Harry Potter’s name read out to the questioning mutters of the crowd.

You simply watch the door upon which Cedric had walked through as if your gaze was powerful enough to bring him back.

----------------------------------------------

You wait for him in the common room.

He’s greeted with cheers and shouts of congratulations, but he only has eyes for you. You’re already watching him as his eyes find yours.

Cedric takes a seat next you; he doesn’t speak immediately, already knowing that you’re finding what you want to say to him.

“I’m scared for you.” You whisper, eyes focused on the fire.

He pulls you into his side, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you are.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I’m going to win.”

You drop your head into your hands, “Cedric, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you…”

“Nothing will.”

“You sound so sure of it.”

“I can’t promise everything will be okay because this is a dangerous competition, but what I do know is that with you by my side helping me, not a lot can go wrong.”

You slump back into the couch, “Cedric Diggory, I did not expect our friendship to make me prematurely grey.”

He laughs, “So you’ll help me then? With preparing for the trials?”

“I’ll always help you.”

His arm is back around your shoulder; you lean into his side. A friendship that had been so precious to you for two years now but had always teetered on the edge of something more. As you both lose yourself in your thoughts, you both wonder what the outcome of this tournament could be.

-----------------------------------------------

“Cedric Diggory! Are you making it your life’s mission to give me high blood pressure? If so, you’re doing a fine job of it.”

Cedric looks at you wide-eyed. You’re stood at the bottom of his hospital bed with your hands on your hips, ready to duel the entire Ministry of Magic if it meant it would get him out of this shitshow of a tournament.

“(Y/N), it’s okay,” He reassures, “I’m okay. Look – everything’s working just fine.” He stands from the bed to pull you into a hug. You hide your face in his chest, listening to the solid thump of his heart.

“Cedric, half of your face is burnt. From a dragon, might I add.”

“But Madame Pomfrey has already healed it because she’s a miracle worker.”

“You scared me half to death. They wouldn’t let me in until everyone had caught their egg.”

His arms tighten around you, “It’s okay. I can do this.”

“I know you can, I have every faith in you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be scared for you. If anything was to happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do.” Repeating your words from the common room conversation a month ago has this all settling into place for you; if anything were to happen to him you would never be able to tell him how you feel.

“Nothing is going to happen to me… well, nothing major at least.”

You sigh through your nose, “Cedric, you really are doing an awful job at reassuring me.”

He laughs, “How should I do it instead?”

You bite your lip, “Just keep hugging me. I know you’re still in one piece that way.”

Cedric’s hand rubs calming circles into your back, “I can do that.”

--------------------------------------------

You don’t remember anything before breaking the surface. You don’t remember anything until Cedric is helping you swim towards the stands where warm towels and blankets are waiting for you both.

Your teeth chatter as you ask, “What happened?”

Cedric is wrapping blanket after blanket around your shoulders, ignoring the fact that his lips are turning blue. “(Y/N), are you okay? Are you warming up? I should have known they’d use you when I couldn’t find you this morning. What do you remember before leaving the lake?”

You grab his hand, “Cedric, calm down. Take a blanket, you’re panicking me. I’m warming up just fine. The last thing I remember was being asked to go see Professor Sprout in the Headmaster’s office to discuss becoming a prefect.”

He slumps down next to you on stand; finally accepting a blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders.

Teeth still chattering, your eyes narrow at the teachers watching the scene, “I better get Prefect for this, Professor Sprout.” You call.

The only indication she gives that she’s heard you is a loud chuckle. Your eyes narrow even further, but they’re directed at Cedric, “Why was I down there?”

“It was part of the mermaid’s riddle. They took something I cared about so I would bring it back.”

You shiver, “Oh?”

Cedric nods, not ready to have this conversation yet so instead focuses on your shivering, “Are you okay? Are you sure you’re warm enough?” He shuffles closer to you; sharing his blanket with you.

“I’m fine, Ced. I just don’t think I’ll be going swimming for a while.”

Despite it all, Cedric laughs. You follow; gasping for air in no time because what else is there to do when you’ve been involved in a competition that holds possible to risk to life?

You are both still laughing as Dumbledore’s voice announces the winner. “For his unique use of the Bubble Head Charm, we award First Place to Cedric Diggory!”

Fellow Hufflepuff’s begin to chant Cedric’s name; all trying to pat his shoulder. You sober up; eyes wide as you turn to look at Cedric.

You throw your arms around him, “Cedric! First place! You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”

His arms wrap around you, whispering in your ear, “Thank you, (Y/N). I think you might be my good luck charm.”

“Oh hush. It’s all you and you know that.”

Cedric opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it. He knew what he wanted to say but wanted a better setting. He wanted to confess; wanted to tell you how he felt about you, but he decides against it at the last moment.

I’ll tell her if I win, he thinks.

----------------------------------

Cedric’s eyes seek yours before he enters the maze; knowing that your face would calm his heartrate in no time and help him think logically before completing the final task.

He finds your face in no time and already feels his heart calm down. You’re sat at the end of the row; ready to run to him should anything go wrong. His love for you surges through his body and he suddenly wishes he had told you he was in love with you before all of this.

-------------------------------------

Time drags as each champion makes their way into the maze. Worry had settled in your gut like a lead balloon as Cedric was the first to enter. He caught your eyes before he entered, flashing you a small smile that had your heart racing. As you waited for him to return, you found yourself regretting the fact that you had never told him how you felt before the tournament even started.

You’ve bitten your nails down to the bed in worry. Your gaze does not leave the very entrance to the maze that Cedric had walked through just over an hour ago.

Nothing happens; then everything happens at once.

Two bodies land in the arena. Neither moving.

Dumbledore begins to shout for Madame Pomphrey as he races to the bodies. You finally recognise the Hufflepuff yellow of his jersey.

Your heart falls to the floor. You don’t recognise your own voice as you scream his name over and over again. Trying to get through the crowd forming; elbowing your way to him.

You are caught by Professor Sprout who holds you to her; whispering that he’s alive but he needs to be healed.

He’s alive.

He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.

You sag in her arms; the fight leaving you in a single second. You let Professor Sprout lead you away from the arena. The words continue to circle in your mind; he’s alive, he’s breathing, he’s still here.

------------------------------------

It feels like days before you can enter the hospital wing, but it’s only hours. You refuse to leave the area; sitting outside the hospital wing, back straight against the wall, keeping your eyes on the door.

Cedric’s mother and father both leave the hospital wing and catch sight of you slumped against the wall.

You open your mouth to say something, but Cedric’s father beats you too it.

“He’s awake, and he’s asking for you.” His father says.

You sit up straighter, “Would you mind if I go see him?”

He nods, “That’s fine. Would you keep him company as we go find something to eat?”

You stand up, brushing yourself down in an effort to look presentable, “Of course. Thank you for letting me see him.”

Cedric’s mother smiles at you, “It’s no problem, dear. We’ll be back soon.”

They walk away, hand in hand, needing the physical support of their partner right now. You watch them for a single instant, then you push your way into the hospital wing.

You stare at Harry Potter for a moment; arm bandaged, asleep. You had heard his screams before they gave him a sleeping potion. Mrs. Weasley smiles at you as you pass their bed, pointing to the bed where Cedric lays. You reply with what you hope is a grateful smile before turning to Cedric’s bed.

His grey eyes take you in as you approach the bed; the crumpled clothes, the puffy cheeks and red eyes. He knows instantly that you’ve stayed outside the hospital wing for him and that you’ve cried for him.

Him whispering your name is all it takes for you to begin crying again.

“Sweetheart, no. I’m okay, I need you to look at me.” His first thought is to reassure you; to stop you crying. The pet name falling from his lips without a second thought.

You do; you take in the bandages covering his body as well as what looks to be fresh scar on his left arm. There are shadows under his eyes that no amount of sleep could cure, but he’s smiling at you. Despite it all, he’s smiling at you.

You sob. “Cedric, I was petrified.”

He reaches for your hand; you’re by his side immediately, wrapping it in your own. “I’m here, (Y/N). Did Professor Sprout explain what happened?”

You nod; your tears beginning to dry, “There was nothing, and then there you both were.” You close your eyes, reliving the moment of seeing him lying in the arena, lifeless, “And you weren’t moving. It was like I was in a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up.”

He frowns; despising himself for the pain he had put you through. “In the graveyard… when I was facing him with Harry, would you like to know what my only thought was?”

“What?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Cedric nods, “If I was going to die, I wanted my last thought to be of you.”

The tears start anew, “Cedric…”

“I can’t keep it hidden anymore, not after that. I love you. I’ve loved you since Second Year and you dropped ink all over my notes and in guilt, you made sure your notes were copied neatly so I could have a copy. I would have said something sooner, but I was worried that it would ruin our friendship. I’m not worried anymore.”

You sniffle, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your shirt. The last thing you cared about right now was your appearance, “Cedric, I love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod, “I do. I have since that very same day. When you entered the maze, I had this overwhelming sense of regret that I didn’t tell you sooner, but I’m happy that it’s out there now.”

He smiles at you, “When I’m out of here, I’m taking you on a date.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re going to do this properly. I want to do this properly.”

You nod, “Okay. A date sounds good, but only after you’re entirely healed.”

He nods, agreeing with you, settling his head further into the pillow, closing his eyes. You go to pull your hand away, but his eyes fly open, hand gripping yours tighter.

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to let you get some peace and sleep.”

“Stay with me?”

“Your parents will be back soon.”

“I know, but I want you to stay with me. I don’t want to let you out of my sight just yet.”

You relax at his words, “Of course. I’ll duel anyone if they try to make me leave.” Then the realisation hits, delayed after the drama of the night, “Cedric, you won. You won the tournament. You’re the Triwizard Champion!”

He nods, grinning, “And you’re in love with him.”

------------------------------------

The formal ceremony takes place once Cedric is released from hospital. He’s handed the cup in front of the whole school and Hufflepuff cheer the loudest upon the announcement of Triwizard Champion.

He accepts the win graciously; offering to share the money with Harry, but Harry declines. Cedric won it fair and square; Harry was just happy that Cedric had his back in the graveyard.

As grateful as he is to be named Triwizard Champion, he’s won something better.

You.

*****

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