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hermannsthumb · 2 months

Note

Power outage and popsicles for the summer prompts...."dude, why not? They're gonna melt otherwise."

27. Power Outage + 30. Popsicles

from summer prompts meme here

i finished this & checked ao3 and realized that i techhhhnically filled a prompt like this a little while ago, but they're different enough it's ok. giving this a light M rating for some Suggestive Content because i tweeted about this concept and couldn't stop thinking about writing it

------------------------------------------

Look, Newt’s no stranger to a hot, humid summer, least of all a hot, humid summer that he’s left to tough out with nothing but the jankiest old window A/C unit in the world and t-shirts he’s badly modified with a pair of scissors to be a little more breathable. He got used to it back in Cambridge, where his apartment was the top floor of a creaky historic house built back before anybody really thought about things like central air or air circulation or living comfortably in general. But this is just ridiculous, man. Even if his broom closet of a bunk did have a window it wouldn’t be helping him much.

Yesterday’s kaiju attack took out the city power grid and most of the electricity to the Shatterdome with it. They’re not totally fucked, because relying on somewhere prone to frequent assaults from ten gazillion pound monsters to power local PPDC operations would be kind of an insane—if not, like, admirably ballsy—move, but the on-base generators they have as back-up are reserved for critical functions only: LOCCENT, the jaeger bay, and—well, yeah, basically that. Newt would estimate roughly twenty percent of base operations outside that are deemed critical, so whatever electricity is left is diverted directly to the mess hall refrigeration systems (so they can eat) and overhead lights in most of the common spaces (so they can walk down the hallway without falling down an elevator shaft or knocking over something expensive).

Basically, their little k-science team of two ranks comically low on that critical function list no matter how many complaints Hermann lodges with facilities about his precious little computers, or Newt does about the extremely necessary and much more important preservation of his kaiju samples. Under duress Newt will very begrudgingly admit this is not without some reason. It’s still annoying.

Hermann spends the first hour of the Black-Out trying to, essentially, pirate some of that diverted power (admittedly very cool of him) to get his computers back in business and cursing very loudly when it fails. Newt, meanwhile, thanks his goddamn lucky stars that it’s been a lackluster few weeks for kaiju harvesting and every viable sample he has is small enough to fit in some coolers with ice packs he keeps around for emergencies. Problem solved. They’ll want to hose them down before their next picnic so they’re not packing sandwiches in with kaiju guts—Newt’s kidding, mostly, Hermann wouldn’t be caught dead on a picnic with him—but it’ll work for now.

The main problem arises around hour two. On the average day it’s genuinely freezing down here, thanks to the lethal combination of the lab’s somewhat subterranean nature (stickin’ the geeks in the damp basement) and Hermann’s weird habit of keeping the A/C blasting so he can comfortably dress like he's strolling across Antarctica without breaking a sweat. With the A/C casualty to the outage, it doesn’t take long for the muggy humidity of the Hong Kong summer to creep up on them, and by the light of the comically large flashlight he’s very nicely holding for Hermann Newt watches it hit his colleague in waves: the exponential increase in handkerchief-swipes-across-forehead, the unbuttoning of his collar, the blazer shrugged off and tossed at a chair, then (egads!) the sweatervest following.

“Hold that still,” Hermann snaps when Newt lets the beam of the flashlight wander from the functionally useless computer he’s poking cables into to the scandalous display of button-down and wristbones he’s putting on right now instead. Talk about a strip tease. Newt ignores him and wolf-whistles instead.

“I’ve never seen you so naked,” he says. “This is definitely a new record. How many layers of pants do you have on? I’m guessing eight, nine.” He trails the light down one alluringly baggy slacks leg—because what is he hiding under there, man—and then back up to Hermann’s face. Hermann shields his eyes and recoils with a small affronted noise. His choppy bangs are sticking to his forehead.

“One,” Hermann says from behind his hand, “that is a completely inappropriate question to ask, and you are very lucky I’m used to that sort of thing enough by now to not file a complaint with Human Resources straightaway. Perhaps I will anyway. Two, that is categorically false. Please get that out of my face.”

“You’re right, I was being way too conservative. Ten pants?”

Hermann grinds his teeth together. “You saw me with significantly less clothing than this when you accidentally—allegedly—spilled a large amount of neutralized kaiju blood on me last year.”

The decontamination shower incident. Of course. How could Newt forget? Hermann looked like an angry wet cat in there, and Newt made a beeline for the exit the second he confirmed there weren’t any imminent biohazards and/or threats to Hermann’s health and/or threats to Newt's health before Hermann could get out and make one for him. Newt hid on the roof all afternoon.

A cold decon shower sounds pretty nice right now, actually. He wonders if the water in here is still running. A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck. “Which you’ve yet to apologize for,” Hermann continues, because Newt guesses they're still talking about this. “Get that out of my face.”

He tightens his fingers around Newt's wrist and yanks Newt’s hand back to shine the flashlight where he needs it, and, conspicuously, doesn’t address the whole pants question, which Newt assumes has to mean there’s at least three different things going on down there. Hermann strikes him as an old-timey long underwear kind of guy. The kind you'd see flapping on clotheslines in old cartoons.

A minute later he throws down the cables and hits the side of his computer with his cane. “Bugger,” he snarls, pushing himself to his feet. “I have work to do, and now I'll be behind by a whole day. This is completely unacceptable. I have submitted no less than four notices about the importance of—”

“Aw, no luck,” Newt says. He wipes his own forehead on his rolled-up shirt cuff. Would Hermann notice if he took his shirt off? It’s gettin’ hot in here, he thinks. Hermann’s temper is gettin’ hot, too, and he thinks if he doesn’t shut his mouth his foot might find out firsthand how that walloping Hermann’s computer just got felt. “Soooo, can I go now?”

He wants to take his shirt off very badly. And more importantly he has a hot—he means that very literally—date with a battery-operated fan and a minifridge of melting popsicles in his bedroom ASAP, and he’d like to get to the popsicles (and take off his shirt) sooner than later. “Fine,” Hermann says. He takes the flashlight and waves Newt off. "Get out of my sight, you wretch."

Newt’s bunk is darker and stuffier than the lab, if possible. His first order of business is to strip down to his bare chest stat before fumbling with the switches to his fan and the shitty little rechargeable nightlight he keeps on his desk. His legs are so sweaty that the denim of his skinny jeans is clinging to him for dear life, and it takes him twice as long to wriggle out of them. He succeeds, finally, flopping flat on his ass on the mattress in his boxers. After a few more uncomfortable minutes of wriggling he kicks those off too. Definitely a dick out kind of afternoon.

Tiny as it is, the fan feels fucking great. If Hermann wasn’t such a dick Newt would’ve considered inviting him over to bask in how great it feels with him. The popsicles are great, too, and mostly still intact, but—given the distressingly liquidy state of his little minifridge freezer—they won’t be for long. Newt unwraps two of them at once and eats them in alternating bites as quickly as he can without giving himself brain freeze. He’s just unwrapped a third when there’s a brusque knock at his door.

“Uggggh,” he says. “What?”

He rolls over on his side and squints at the door, wishing vaguely for some variation of x-ray vision to see who’s there or (better yet) telekinesis that could just open the door for him. He’s hot. And lazy. Basically, getting up and opening the door is at the very bottom of the list of potential activities he could engage in right now.

“It’s me,” Hermann says.

Pretty presumptuous of him, seeing as there’s a whole Shatterdome of me’s who aren’t Hermann that could’ve been at Newt’s door and who would totally love to enjoy Newt’s company, and frozen desserts, but Newt will let it slide, given ninety percent of the time the me in question actually is Hermann. He peels himself up from his sheets and shuffles over to the door to open it. “Yeah?” he says around his popsicle.

“Did you take my,” Hermann says, and then his mouth abruptly stops moving, and he goes a shade of red that’s impressively visible in the low lighting. “Oh,” he says.

Newt takes a bite out of the popsicle and swallows with a wince. Too cold, overly ambitious of him. “Probably,” he says. “I mean, whatever you’re missing, I probably took it. The sandwich you packed today, yes, your sticky notes, yes. I was hungry. For the sandwich I mean. Not the sticky notes. Didn’t you see my note?” By my he guess he technically means Hermann’s, because he wanted to do the polite thing and leave an IOU for the sandwich like a good little colleague but ran out of his own sticky note pads three months ago and keeps forgetting to order more.

“Do you want a popsicle?” he says. “I’m trying to finish off the box. I’ve already had two so far,” he sticks out his blue tongue as proof, “and I think I might get sick if I eat anymore after this. I guess I could just, you know, stop, but I spent a ridiculous amount of money on these, Hermann, you wouldn’t believe how much, and it would physically pain me to toss them out.” The snack food black market—hyperbolically speaking, it’s not actually a black market, just a handful of convenience stores who have managed to wiggle their way around rationing—doesn’t run cheap, and he paid for roundtrip bus fare on top of that.

“Er,” Hermann says.

He sounds confusingly confused over the offer. Historically, they eat each other’s food all the time, or at least Newt eats Hermann’s, but Newt has never been stingy when it comes to sharing his black market snacks with Hermann. It’s nothing new here. “They’re gonna melt, dude, why not?” Newt says.

Hermann is breathing hard and looking even more like the Gottliebian equivalent of a pin-up calendar right now: button-down undone to the collarbones, sleeves rolled up, slack cuffs rolled up, belt MIA, flush high on his cheekbones. And with his dumb little glasses to top it off, too. It’s working for Hermann. It’s working for Newt. He wonders, if he was to sabotage the lab A/C again in the near future, if it would be worth Hermann’s fury to see him like this again.

Newt sucks on the popsicle. Hermann suddenly thrusts an arm out, catching himself on the doorframe like he’s about to topple right over, and Newt realizes now that he’s looking a little sick in the face. The poor guy must be overheating. A wave of guilt instantly washes over him—Hermann might be a dick, but Newt really should’ve mentioned the fan thing, which makes him equally a dick for not doing so. Basically their dickishness is cancelling each other out here, which he thinks makes them both pretty stand-up guys.

“Okay, fine, you wanna come in?” Newt says. “I have a fan. It’s not, like, good, but it’s better than nothing. Also, obviously, popsicles.” A droplet of melted popsicle rolls down the stick and onto his fingers, and Newt licks it up. He gives Hermann’s sleeve a little tug. “Gotta say though dude, you’re looking preeeeetty indecent right now. I mean, forearms? My God, this is a military base, not a gentlemen’s club. Don’t flash me any sock garters, I won’t be able to take it.”

“I’m indecent?” Hermann chokes out. "Do you not—?!"

His eyes fall to Newt’s lips as Newt sucks the rest of the popsicle off the stick, and as Hermann digs his teeth into his own bottom lip, Newt thinks oh, man. He thought Hermann would be above the whole tragically juvenile popsicle=phallic thing. Very low-hanging erotic fruit. He’s almost disappointed in the guy. Newt can name ten different ways he could seduce Hermann right now, hypothetical success rate aside, that would be way more interesting. Newt chews on the wooden popsicle stick just to shake things up a bit.

“Okay, so are you coming in?” he says.

Hermann’s throat bobs as he swallows thickly. “Newton,” he finally says, and the next bits out of his mouth are a confusing semi-coherent jumble, “I am extremely—what I mean is, I’m not sure—the repercussions of it all, in terms of our working relationship—and loathe as I am to admit it, I do consider you my closest—though of course I find you exceedingly attractive, and I want to, only…”

“Um,” Newt says.

Hermann hovers in the doorway for another ten seconds, weirdly and uncomfortably silent, before shaking Newt’s hand off his sleeve. “I have to do paperwork,” he says.

He books it out of there.

Hermann’s a weirdo, no use trying to figure it out.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag

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babybluebex · 2 years

Note

Hey Luna!!! 👋

I love your writing, especially when it's Eddie, you write him so good and I fall in love with him even more.

If its not too much, may I request (it can be a story or headcanons, whatever you like) about Eddie being a dad.

I love you

hi babes! several people requested dad!eddie, so i’m excited to write this! i’m gonna do headcanons/bullets for this just to shake it up lol

when you first tell eddie you’re pregnant, he’s a little nervous

ok he’s a LOT nervous cos he’s worried he won’t be a good dad cos his dad wasn’t good to him

but then he remembers how good wayne is to him and he knows that he’s got a good role model in wayne and he’s not as worried anymore

but he’s still shitting bricks cos like. oh my god he’s gonna be a father. in nine months he’s gonna have a little boy or girl. what the fuck

he’ll never admit it and always says all he wants is a healthy baby, but he wishes so badly to have a girl

throughout your pregnancy, he’s there for you for everything, helping you stand up and sit down, making food for you, letting you cuddle him when you want and giving you space when you want it

he’s the type of father that like: you wake him up at 3am cos you have a craving for pickles and he’ll go to the 7-11 in his pajamas to get you a jar of pickles

he goes to those trendy lamaze classes with you and sorta laughs a little at how ridiculous it feels to be doing the breathing exercises, but he knows how important it is to you and sees that it soothes you, so he’s tolerant of it

all of your friends help you throw a baby shower and when you tear up at the itty bitty baby clothes and toys, eddie rubs your shoulders and wipes up your tears

“look at this onesie, sweetheart, it’s so little, babies aren’t that small, are they?”

i can see your baby being a premmie baby, and you’re woken up early in the morning by the cramps and contractions

you roll over and wake eddie up, and he’s up in an instant, a little wild-eyed and sleepy but he’s up and packing a bag and helping you into the van

he’s with you the entire time you’re in the hospital and like. without getting too graphic, he helps wherever he can

he’s asked if he wants to cut the umbilical cord and at first he refuses but then he agrees cos he’ll never have that opportunity ever again

he got his baby girl

he holds your small small small baby so tenderly and his eyes get watery when they cry, and he shushes them and pouts “no no, no crying, please”

you name her violet, tiny little violet munson

eddie never wants to put her down when you get home, he always wants to hold her and carry her and kiss her forehead

she has a little personality from the first moment, and she knows what she likes and doesn’t like, and she LOVES her daddy

whenever she sees him, she’s always coping and everything he does makes her giggle

his favorite is right after bathtime, when her skin is all soft and smells like lavender and she’s got a fresh diaper, and eddie blows raspberries on her tummy

he’ll gasp and shake his head around and blow a long raspberry and she laughs and laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world

and her laughter is the best sound in the world to him

as she grows older, she never loses the love for daddy

she always wants to sit in his lap and play with his hair

and eddie coddles and loves her so much

when she’s finally walking around, he takes her to the playground one day while you’re at work, and she falls and skins her knee, and she cries big heavy tears as eddie blows on the angry skin and puts a bandaid on it

“all better, vi. see? it doesn’t hurt anymore!”

and he spoils her so much

want some ice cream? sure, why not! want a cuddle? of course! how about a new toy?

when she’s all grown up, around five or so, you and him and violet get into a routine where she comes home from preschool and tells you and daddy all about what she learned while you and eddie make dinner together, and after dinner, eddie gives vi a bath and does their favorite raspberries in your big bed while you take your own shower

by the time you’re out of the shower at night, eddie and violet have calmed down and he’s reading to her, doing the voices as he reads her lord of the rings while her little head is resting on his chest

you’ve tried so hard to get vi to stop sucking her thumb, but she still does it before bed, and she’s sucking her thumb as her little brown eyes flag and slowly close, and soon she’s drooling on eddie’s shirt and he slowly closes the book

“good night, little vi. see you in the morning”

she sleeps in between you two, clinging to her daddy’s arm the entire night. she’s entirely dependent on eddie, and he on her, but he wouldn’t have it any other way

#bex answers #anon ask #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x you

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immoralimmortals · 5 months

Text

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 3: Misanthrapologist (1)

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter

Summary of chapter: Time for a sacrifice.

Author's note: This chapter was originally part of the upcoming one, but I decided it should be standalone, both because it is Hidan-centric and because of its contents. I plan on more installments with this song, and if I follow through they should overall end up more fucked up each time. In addition, please regard the notes and warnings of chapter 1 if you have not read it already. Song is Misanthrapologist by Will Wood.

CW for references to periods, being on your period. Also, Hidan, of course, does not reflect how a normal person should view a chronic condition and he's a bit of an ass about it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I wanna meet your maker

Shake him by his ensanguined damask lapels

Holler "Look what you've done, gave this planet a sun

And made a man to wonder if he's more than the sum of his cells"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It becomes impossible to hide, no matter how hard she tries. A flush face, tired bones, and overly sensitive heart make one very vulnerable, especially if those who judge know the reason why. The two Akatsuki don’t yet, and the performer hopes to mitigate it as much as possible.

Doesn’t keep Kakuzu from inquiring, though.

“Sick?” he asks abruptly, looking up from counting the tips made yesterday. It’s been half ten minutes, and the most she’s done for practice is hold her guitar to her abdomen and look pathetic and self-pitying. She fidgets from her seat on the rugged couch, embarrassed as hell.

“...A bit,” she admits.

“Will it effect how well you can work?”

She forces herself to shake her head “no.”

“Alright.”

And that’s the end of that on his end, but unfortunately, after much deliberation, the performer finds she must stand up. A violet eye cracks open from his side of the living room. It watches as she leans down closer than she’s every purposefully been to Kakuzu, and covered lips whisper in his ear. “...Hn,” the older one grunts, “How much?” She mumbles a number as Hidan’s mouth goes into a lopsided pursing. “Mm.” A few bills are dropped into her trembling hand. “Get a receipt.” Without even a look to the prophet, Jashin's disciple is gone; the nature of the whole thing leaves Hidan sour.

“The hell was that all for?” he inquires, praying hands still clasped around his pendant. Kakuzu doesn’t even look up.

“Nothing,” he responds, same tone as ever.

“Fucker.”

“Sure,” he dismisses.

Kakuzu gets the receipt he asked for an hour later, slip of paper in his hand from out of a bag the bard otherwise keeps closed up, lest contents see daylight. He grunts again. Couple cents off, but same bill amount-- decent enough guess, and he got all the change. She thanks him with a small bow and excuses herself up the creaky stairs. As soon as Hidan’s nose is in his space, Kakuzu shreds the paper till unrecognizable.

“OI!”

The old man hasn’t decided yet if this is funny or about to be supremely, unnecessarily annoying, seeing his partner squirm so badly. “Just don’t bother her about it.” Oh, how he should know that kind of talk will only plant ideas in Hidan’s head.

Ugh. People speak too lightly of this kind of thing, she laments in her head as she props herself up against a bedroom wall. “Sick” is the only way to describe the sensation. Her stomach curdles and insides burn. It’s like a vampire bit her and pulled out a cork at the same time-- just totally drained of energy. This pain is so bad her lips quiver as she frowns. The door is closed, but Hidan isn’t the type to knock.

“Oi!” Her eyes flutter open; he walked up without her noticing, somehow, so close she starts with his legs and works her way up. He continues speaking once the eyes lock. “The bastard won’t say anything.” A silver eyebrow raises. “The fuck is your problem?”

Oh. The woman’s cheeks get so red they begin to sting, her mouth feeling more like a squiggle than the line she tries to maintain. “I’m just sick.” The word “just” was a mistake.

“Dying? Fuck, you’re not contagious, are ya?!” Sounding bored with the former option and annoyed with the other. Urgently, the woman shakes her head. “So! What else is it then?!” Frustration loosens up in his expression as he comes up with the only option left. “...Chronic?”

…

She nods.

“Painful?”

Quietly, again she nods.

The expression he has is something you never want from Hidan:

Pity.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'Cause you defy creation

I hate you, I hate you, I do

Hands to the night sky, praying you might die

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The preparations have been made for her mercy kill. Yes, Jashin has convinced him, Hidan needs to end this now. Despite being an immortal, he understood at least a little bit what Deidara was always on about-- the beauty of the end. Last breaths, a body draining till pale like a tipped inkwell, till it stains the ground around it. It was glorious. His disciple had even witnessed first hand! She listened to Hidan, eagerly, curiously; she always asked questions, ones that no one has bothered to since the Akatsuki swallowed him up. Yet...she doesn’t LEARN. The beauty of slaughter has yet to sweep her away in a tangible way, not just philosophical bullshit. The follower will never, ever WANT to kill.

And so it’s better to kill her now and not make anything more of it. Maybe Hidan misunderstood his lord, perhaps she was only to serve as a refresher to his faith, his excitement for the hunt. No more of a pointless existence being whored out for cash by his dumbass partner while he watches idly by. What kind of life is that for him to come back to, night after night?!

It’s time for a sacrifice.

“Uh.”

As she’s wont to do, the performer wrings her hands when particularly anxious about what’s to come. He’s certainly set...a mood…to warrant some tension, her corner of this dilapidated home swathed in shadow, shades down, door closed as a candle passes its light to the others while Hidan savors the burning wax bleeding down his fingers.

For once, he says nothing to even the slightest of words. His gaze concentrates on the fire till he sets the last one, light flickering in anticipation over his purple irises. It’s a sight to behold, someone willingly within his ritual circle. She’ll be good for something, after all.

“I think I complained too much,” she tries to backpedal with less urgency than she really should have, as he begins to prowl towards her backside. “It’s not...curable, per say, but it’s not something I can’t handle. If that’s what this is about,” she adds almost guiltily.

There’s no going back now-- in his mind, she’s a wilting flower, one he’d rather cut and frame for his savior than let decay into nothing at all, but damn if he isn’t curious still about whatever it is making her suffer so much. “Really,” he states, skeptical. His own shadow now doubles over the others, over-top her head. The shift from blades hitched to his spine to being wielded in front of him is unperceived from where she is, seated on the floor, thanks to the refraction of candlelight upon shapes making every one a blur.

“Hidan, I-- it’s-- it’s not a big deal. I promise.” The scythe pauses in place from the height of his swing, only being held by his own insatiable need to know what- exactly- has made her such a tragedy.

“If it ain't a big fucking deal, then stop dancing around and tell! Me! What! It! IS!”

His words come vicious and desperate, hardly contained before, and it makes teeth grit so much Hidan’s mouth begins to ache. Later, he will find, this passion surprised even him-- not because he’s incapable of passion- hell no!...it’s the reason behind it.

Jesus, it’s really going to be like this, huh? Breathe in...breathe out. Alright. It’s gone too far, she decides. He needs to know.

“I. I....period. I’m on my. Period.”

Static and white noise briefly take up the space of the voice in his head, the narrative he made no longer words but nonsense, drowned away. He shorts out, not moving an inch, like a guillotine still waiting to drop down.

“I’m sorry. It’s not a big deal, it’s really not! I can handle it, I have to. I’m just...in the bad part.” The part where she can hardly stand up, that is. Pathetic. “I’m sorry,” she says again.

The shadow of the blades shifts, slowly, surely, bit by bit, as his wrist lowers to his side. Ah, what sort of punishment was she going to endure? For making him go through...whatever all this preparation is meant for.

He walks around the circle, scythe still in his hands as he wraps his head around this. The woman is kneeling down, obedient to him, to his judgment. Her face is drained of color, hardly keeping her head up and not bothering to brush the hair out of her way. Hands folded, hands praying. Her eyes are wet, refusing to meet his own. Something occurs inside of him that’s less of a “click” and more like a sunrise: gradual, consuming, warming. It's foreign, and yet a part of him-- guiltily-- accepts it. Though he doesn't fully understand why, he is granted wisdom that this "condition" is not something he shall remedy.

After all, bloodshed is bloodshed.

“Ah. Well. Shit, then.”A small clink as he reattaches his red guillotine to his back. “Why didn’t you just say so?” Truth is, the performer had correctly guessed that he has a bit of a religious obsession with blood-- didn’t need Kakuzu’s advice to keep the subject private. God, but does she really have to feel so silly right now? That Hidan thought that he needed to do something to save her from it?! She’s...huh.

She’s flattered.

The woman sits lowered before him, and though as helpless as she is, damn if she isn’t curious.

“Did I really worry you that much?”

He quickly spits the taste of affection out of his mouth.

“Sorry.”

“...Shut up,” he murmurs.

“Sorry.” She shuts her eyes.

But just as soon they have reason to flutter open; they can only do so, of course, when she finds a gentle hand takes her own. Hidan’s fingers brush over her knuckles. It’s him, this time, that won’t meet her eyes, his own narrowed while closed lips try to seal in the little breath not lost. The chain around his neck rises over his head. The pendent is set into her palm, and then his own palms fold underneath it. Abruptly, the world is hers.

“We praise Jashin for this pain, for this blood. Thank you for our lives, as we are reminded of the mortal cycle. In life, we anticipate death. In death, we begin to feel alive. Thank you for blessing your disciple, lord Jashin.”

He’s never prayed out loud before in the time they’ve known each other, let alone for both of them. There’s a long pause; the assumption it’s her turn comes around. What should she pray for?

...She doesn’t know. But still, with this spectacle, she’s filled with something overwhelming, and it should come out. Instinctively, she leans down at the end of his prayer, and Jashin’s cold silver sigil is pressed to her lips gently, reverently. He’s foolish enough to look up at this moment and witness this kiss. For the first time, in all her pure, weary glory, Hidan sees he was wrong. He sees she is radiant. He sees she is beautiful.

And silently, unknown to her, he repents for the sin of doubting his lord.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Before I fall in love with you

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#akatsuki x reader #hidan x reader #songfic #hidan #aswtn fic

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1004tyun-archive · 2 years

Text

❥ what best friends do

pairing: yeonjun x reader

genre: best friends to lovers

warning: suggestive content

summary: you have a crazy suggestion with a crazier solution and yeonjun is into it, but not without a little convincing

word count: 777 words

a/n: phew, this was a lot of fun to write! ^_^ i haven't written anything spicy in such a long time so i hope y'all enjoy it!

i was listening to gentleman by gallant on loop while writing this, so i highly suggest listening to it to set the mood 😏

“we’ve done everything best friends do except kiss.”

yeonjun does a double take and nearly drops his phone on his face.

“i dunno, the kind who’ve kissed before!”

yeonjun runs a hand through his hair and sighs, clearly unsure of what to say next. what could he say?

“so, what? you wanna kiss me?” he asks as he rolls onto his stomach to get a proper look at you.

you blush and suddenly the entirety of your shared living room space feels hot.

“i mean…” you start. “i don’t not want to kiss you.”

“Y/N,” yeonjun says in the tone of an exasperated parent.

“what? can’t i want to kiss my best friend once in a while?”

“maybe try not phrasing it like it’s something everyone’s doing.”

“but everyone is doing it, jjun.”

“Y/N,” he says again in that ‘so done with you’ tone “if you wanna kiss me, just say that.”

“okay, fine! since you wanna hear it so badly— choi yeonjun, i want to kiss you. there, happy?”

at that moment, there’s a shifting of energy, as if you confessed to something that had been buried deep in your subconscious for years. the room falls silent, so silent that the abrupt click and subsequent blowing of air from your air conditioner makes you both flinch.

you exhale, as if you’ve been holding your breath this whole time.

“wait, a-are you serious?” he asks and in this moment, you feel like a sledgehammer to the head would’ve been less subtle than what you just admitted to.

“uh, yeah,” you say.

“oh… cool,” he says.

cool? that certainly is a way to phrase it...

“do you wanna kiss me?” you ask, sounding more hopeful than you mean to come across.

there it is, that same heavy silence. you start to wish you never brought it up in the first place.

“let’s drop it,” you say with a forfeiting wave of your hands. “it was just a joke anyway.”

“no no,” yeonjun says and suddenly he’s sitting on the loveseat with you, his hand resting on your knee. “no, i… i want to. let’s try it.”

you look at him with raised eyebrows.

“damn, thirsty much?” you jest and before you know it, his lips are pressed against yours. your eyes flutter closed and you lean into the kiss. it’s soft and a little too eager, your lips hurt a bit from the sudden impact but it’s welcomed.

you separate and look at each other for a moment, and you’re sure you’re thinking the same things.

1. what did we just do?”

and

2. “we need to do that again”

so you do.

yeonjun pulls you closer by the waist and kisses you again and your hand snakes up to cradle his cheek.

and you go back for more and more, with parted lips and roaming hands.

your tongue carefully peeks out to swipe against his bottom lip and yeonjun is hesitant at first. he seems a little surprised that you’d take control in that way but you’re certain he likes it with the way his grip on your waist tightens and he slides his tongue against yours.

he tastes so sweet, like a cherry lollipop, and you want more and more of him.

yeonjun pulls you onto his lap and you straddle him, you give into the urge to run your hand down his toned chest.

yeonjun slides his hand underneath the fabric of your worn t-shirt and goosebumps blossom all over your skin. everything about this room is cold— namely, the air and your skin, but his hands are so warm, so soft yet you can feel every small, rough callous that contrasts with the softness. it’s so him.

how is yeonjun so… himself in every single way?

you separate from him for a moment, leaving behind a thin string of saliva.

“jjun?” you ask, panting.

“yeah?” yeonjun asks, trying to sound unaffected as if he isn’t also trying to catch his breath.

“i don’t think best friends do this.”

“you don’t say?” yeonjun says with a tilt of his head and one eyebrow raised.

he laughs in his usual wheezy, boyish way and buries his face in the crook of your neck and you feel his lips drag against your skin, making you feel so warm.

“let’s go to my room and keep doing what best friends don’t do.”

#tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun #txt fanfic #txt imagines #yeonjun x reader #crystal's fics

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the-void-writes · 1 year

Note

[ CHALLENGE ] : after the receiver teasingly suggests that the sender is a terrible kisser, sender immediately and fervently proves them wrong with a long, passionate kiss that leaves the receiver taking back what they said.

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 👀👀👀

I kind of took some liberties with this prompt, but it was so much fun to do and I’m actually kind of happy with it, so thank you!!! I hope you enjoy these sweet times for Will and his friends.

Freaks of Preston - First Kisses

The whole mess had started with Kevin being his usual teasy self, joking about how Will was probably a terrible kisser. That was when Will admitted that he had never kissed anyone, so he wouldn’t know. Kevin was more than eager to have everyone test his skills, as he grabbed an empty bottle and put all their teammates in a small circle before Will could even blink. At the very least, they all seemed excited to play with him.

“Your spin, Will.”

His hands were already trembling as he took a deep breath and let the bottle fly. It came to a soft stop in Riley’s direction, and while their friends chuckled to themselves, Will felt his face grow warm.

“Oh, we don’t have to do anything,” he said. “You’ve got Tom, and I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable—”

He lost his words as Riley leaned forward, briefly kissing his cheek. Thomas didn’t seem upset, at all. In fact, they gave Riley a high-five as he sat back down. Will couldn’t form proper words, and he felt the floor spinning underneath him, almost knocking him over.

“Sorry man,” Riley said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, you’re fine— I just—” Will sighed. “I’m still not used to it, that’s all.”

Riley smirked. “Maybe Colin should help you practice.”

Colin kicked at Riley’s foot. “Shut the hell up!”

He didn’t really sound angry, and Will could see the flustered smile he tried to hide under his hand. It felt nice, knowing that his first-ever crush might actually like him back. Now, the only step left was to act on it, if he could ever find the courage.

“You better hope we don’t get Will first, Col,” Kevin said as he took the bottle. “I’m tempted to just kiss him now. Can’t believe a cutie like him has gone so long without one.”

“Kev—” Will cleared his throat. “Thanks, I mean.”

Kevin lifted his glasses and winked at him with his badly-scarred eyes. He flicked the bottle and watched it land on Thomas, who smiled warmly as Kevin stretched himself across their circle to face them.

“Oh, this is also nice,” he said. “Hello, my little phantom.”

Thomas snorted. “Shut up.”

“Ouch— Do I get to kiss you, at least?”

“Yes, of course.”

Will was surprised to see Kevin go for an actual lip-to-lip kiss. Riley didn’t even step in until a few seconds had passed.

“Alright, Blondie, don’t get too comfortable. I’d still like some time with my partner.”

Kevin waited a few seconds before giving Riley an equally-long kiss. Will decided it must have been a three-person relationship, which was strange considering how Riley and Kevin still pestered each other. Jin groaned and nudged them both with her metal arm.

“Either get a room, or disperse,” she said. “It’s Sarah’s turn now.”

Kevin returned to his seat. “Someone sounds eager.”

“I’ll destroy you, string bean.”

Sarah, who had been sitting quietly on Jin’s left, laughed and spun the bottle. Unfortunately, it landed on the empty space between Jin and Riley.

“Does that mean we both kiss her?” Riley asked.

“If you guys want,” Sarah said. “I don’t mind.”

Jin pulled her close and kissed both of her cheeks. “You’re so precious.”

Riley opted for a simple kiss on Sarah’s hand, though it still made her giddy. Jin gave her one last kiss before taking her turn. The bottle landed on Colin, and Will could hear his friends failing to hide their laughter.

“Alright,” Jin said, “calm down guys. I won’t do anything too big— That’ll be Will’s job, right?”

“Why do you guys keep making that joke?” Colin said, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“We’re not blind, Colin.” Jin gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “You’re both burning up at the thought of it.”

Will looked away before Colin could catch him staring. He wasn’t sure if he could go through with it, given how hard his heart was pounding. It was the downside to never having a crush before— These new feelings were terribly overwhelming.

Riley took his turn next, practically cheering when the bottle landed on Thomas.

“Check out that luck, babe!”

He kissed Thomas even longer than Kevin had, most definitely out of spite. Will couldn’t help but admire how perfectly they fit in each other’s embrace, like matching puzzle pieces. They were so attached to each other that they were still kissing when Thomas did their spin.

“You’re gonna have to let go, Casanova,” Sarah said. “Unless you want me to kiss you, as well.”

Riley laughed and sat back down. “Go ahead, short stuff.”

Sarah puffed her cheeks at the nickname, but continued to crawl forward and gently kiss Thomas on their forehead. They smiled and squeezed her hand before she sat down.

“Thank you, Sarah.”

She giggled. “You’re too sweet, Tom. I don’t know how you ended up with such grumps.”

“Oh yeah?” Riley pointed at Jin. “How did a softie like you land a sports superstar?”

“You just answered your damn question,” Jin said. “She’s adorable.”

Kevin raised his hand. “Are we gonna ignore the fact that she called me a grump? The guy with the pink highlights?”

As they playfully argued with each other, Colin placed his hand on the bottle. Will watched as he neglected to spin it, instead turning it manually to face him. He smiled at Will nervously.

“They won’t notice, right?”

Will chuckled. “I guess not.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“Yes—“ He cleared his throat. “I mean, if you are, then sure.”

Colin laughed and took his hand, leaning closer until his nose was pressed against Will’s. They kept staring at each other, waiting for one of them to make that final step. To everyone’s surprise, it was Will who closed the gap between them, only for a second before he pulled back and hid his face in his hands. His friends clapped for him.

“Wow, look at you taking initiative!” Riley said.

“Go back to kissing your partner, Ry,” Will mumbled.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

Will jumped as Colin held his shoulder. He had the most beautiful and serene smile on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. “I should have told you— That was my first kiss, too.”

“You—” Will slapped his hand against his head. “Oh god, I ruined it, didn’t I? It wasn’t even big or special!”

“Are you kidding? It was nice.” He laughed to himself. “Maybe we can try for longer next time.”

Will gripped his sleeves in embarrassment. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Kevin grinned and grabbed the bottle. “How about one more round, then?”

Their friends all cheered in approval, and despite Will’s initial timidness, he was so happy to be shown love by all of his new friends.

///////

As soon as Will opened the door to Jason’s apartment, strings of muffled laughter came from the kitchen. His godfathers were standing around a single pot, taking turns to stir it carefully. Will tucked his shoes away and joined them.

“What are you guys making?” he asked.

“Oh, you know,” Jason said with a shrug, “just soup, nothing special.”

“It smells like chicken.”

“Right,” Henry said loudly. “Soup and chicken, just normal things.”

Will squinted. “Why are you guys acting like this?”

“No reason, dear.” Jason stirred the pot for the tenth time since Will entered. “So… how was your day?”

There was clearly a smile trying to fight its way onto his face. Will sighed as he realized what was happening: They both knew what had happened with Colin.

“Who told you—”

Jason spun around, unable to contain his grin. “Kevin did, he texted us everything.”

Henry ran over and tousled Will’s hair. “You really did it, sport! I couldn’t be more proud of you!”

“It was barely a peck,” Will said. “It doesn’t really count.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It sounds like you’ll have more chances to go all out.”

“Henry!”

Will hid his face as Henry laughed heartily. Soon, a thin hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug.

“Do you remember when you were younger,” Jason said, “and you said you would never get married because no one wanted to date you?”

Will nodded, remembering that small, heartbroken boy in Preston. A boy who had accepted that he had no future, until his wonderful new family showed him otherwise. He hugged Jason tighter, crying a little into his sweater.

“You’ve finally found someone who will love every single part of you.” Jason kissed the top of his head. “I couldn’t be more happy for you, Will.”

They were both scooped up in Henry’s arms as he lifted them off the ground.

“Same here, sport. You’ve more than earned this.”

Will held them both close, beyond thankful that both of his godfathers were in his life, in ways that his first father never would have been. Even at dinner, when they kept embarrassing Will with questions about his first-ever kiss, he was still so happy to have their love and support. Friends, family, and a possible new lover… Life was finally being kind to Will Shapiro.

#writeblr #ask games #wip: freaks of preston

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electricbluebutterflies · 1 year

Note

Chris/Melissa + a kiss attempting to convince the other party to stay

Usual post-6B, PG-ish, also on ao3.

She doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

Melissa is… not in a state of crisis, she just doesn’t do crisis, but adapting badly. In hindsight it’ll probably be funny that she’s handling her new empty-nest status worse than she handled finding out that her kid was a goddamn werewolf followed shortly by a brief introduction to a few other supernatural species, but right now it is not, right now it is-

This was probably not the right time to try dating again on top of everything else she has going on, but the universe gave her a decent man who stands a chance of fitting into her chaos and she’s not going to waste that kind of opportunity.

Objectively, Melissa needs a distraction, and it’s good that she has this one because otherwise this would be the kind of overwhelmed where she’d find some delightful bad idea to screw and… she’s been with some real winners, she can admit that in the rearview, and who knows what trouble she’d get herself into without the boys around to prevent it, and-

Good thing she has this one, she repeats. Good thing she has a fabulously fucked-up tragedy of a man to untangle and maybe domesticate a little.

Not that Chris is just a project, exactly. That’s part of the appeal, but she’s also notoriously drawn to that level of damage, to men who handle situations competently and fluidly and then brood after and oh she did not know another human being could be so completely her type before she met this one and-

If there is one thing she’d completely change about him, one trait she is going to get rid of so help her if it’s the last thing she does, it’s how cautious he is with her.

It was sweet, before anything happened, when they weren’t sure what they were. Her past being what it is, it felt nice to be around a man who hesitated before touching her. But they’ve been involved for a few months and she’s not sure they’ll ever do anything past making out, and there’s a point where restraint crosses the line into repression, and-

She wants more. She’s not sure how to get it. That’s new and terrifying.

They’ve at least gotten comfortable with occasional evenings at the house – she’s used to having people around, he’s used to quiet, they compromise – and the realization that neither of them are good at whatever they’re doing. She suspects the dead wife was the only entanglement he’s ever had that mattered, or perhaps at all, and she’s used to more assertive dynamics, and good grief they’re worse at this than the kids are, and-

To have such complete control over a situation, Melissa thinks, is going to take a long time to get used to. But she can’t just be passive or nothing will happen. She has to…

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she wants, and maybe that’s enough.

It’s getting late-but-not-too-late, the part of the evening where he backs away because he doesn’t want to impose, because god fucking forbid he take up any space whatsoever – there is a distinctly separate persona she’s dealing with as a would-be partner, and it would worry her if she thought she understood it – and it was one thing when she wasn’t getting affection because she wasn’t sure she could find a partner who’d fit in with the chaos of her life but that’s not an issue, she’s on the edge with maybe the only person who ever could and dammit they’re both too passive and-

“Stay,” she says instead of letting him go, as she crosses the small distance between them and pulls him down to her level and she absolutely does not care if that’s uncomfortable. She’s used to height difference, which is to say used to standing on tiptoe and hoping that’s enough, but this is-

She likes kissing him, she knows that much, the combination of scruff and caution and something almost wild that she suspects he doesn’t even know he’s capable of. She doesn’t care for power dynamics but she suspects she’ll have to; she doesn’t-

“What are you doing?” he asks when they break for air, always the concern, always just slightly too much, always-

“I don’t want you to leave tonight,” she says, and she has half an idea what she wants and maybe that’s enough to get her through. “I don’t… just stay. On my couch or whatever. Don’t leave. Not yet.”

She hopes it sounds seductive like she’s never been and not desperate or frightened, and there’s still that worry in his eyes – just her luck, she’s gone and made herself something vulnerable that needs him – but he doesn’t say anything right away, just holds her like she’s almost breakable and dammit he’s making her like him too much and-

“If that’s what you want,” he murmurs, almost uncertain. “If that’s…”

“I’m not taking you upstairs. But this house is too quiet, and I’m not… I’m not you. I’m not happier this way.”

They’ll deal with that accusation later, perhaps, or more likely just let it go. She knows not to try to change too much, and she-

“If that’s what you want,” he repeats.

Melissa shifts her body closer and takes another kiss. “It is.”

#ebf writes fic #chris x melissa #melissa mccall #chris argent #mcargent #queue

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 6 months

Text

Wreckless - A story of a Boy - Part One

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

Tristan is probably so done with me already but after I send him another text giving him a different arrival time, he still responds politely and the day is still a go.

Somehow.

I was worried about Emmett being out so much before we spent an hour looking at a house and doing an offer.

He tells me he doesn't mind driving the rest of the way which I guess means he really is feeling okay but I don't let him.

I have to admit, it's kind of fun driving this car when I know how badly he wants to.

Tristan apologizes as soon as I ring the bell.

"It's a MESS, please ignore it," he tells me, picking up a streamer from the corner.

"We had Angie's birthday party yesterday. Twenty-five fifth grade kids are apparently the equivalent of a small bomb. Don't worry, we cleaned the pool well, shocked it as soon as they left," he jokes.

Then he gets around to yelling at me, sort of.

"Was starting to wonder if you'd make it all but you did and I'm glad. Emmett, you scared the shit out of us on Thursday."

He holds his hands up, shrugs, and grins.

He's adorable.

"Sorry."

"He's promised me he won't do it again," I tell Tristan as we head towards the bathroom.

"Good. We have sunscreen, drinks and food outside. If you need anything else just ask," he says and then he's off, through the double doors and onto the deck.

We sneak into the bathroom together and change quickly.

Emmett pulls his hair up and I growl at him.

"Later, darling."

"Promises, promises. Don't get too much sun and get too tired."

That earns me a look.

We head out and he coats me in sunscreen and we all get drinks and lie in the shade while the sunscreen soaks in.

Peter and Emmett talk, probably about the wreck and I keep eyeing the unicorn float.

It's more pink than I remember.

"I'll let you play on it, don't worry."

Tristan is sweet.

Peter sighs.

"That's the third one. Lost junior yesterday and I spent all morning blowing that damn thing up."

"I keep telling you to order a pump," Tristan says, rolling his eyes.

"There are other things you can spend hours blowing, you know."

Damn, bold.

He looks like he's shocked that he said it and I know him well enough to know he is.

Word vomit, he calls it.

The boy seriously speaks without thinking fairly often, especially if he's relaxed and with friends.

Better than the other way around I guess.

Emmett reaches over and taps my chair.

"You should tell them."

Should we?

It's just an offer but since I offered a bit above asking with no contingencies, chances are good.

"We put an offer on a house, that's why we're late."

Tristan's mouth gapes open and he turns towards me.

"That's a hell of a reason. Where? Tell me it's close by?"

"Not far, actually," Emmett tells them and then describes the location much better than I could.

They're both excited for us, Peter especially so even though I don't know him quite as well and he is usually a bit quiet.

Maybe that's just in comparison to Tristan.

The house pleases him though, that's obvious.

The two big, burly men disappear up onto the deck and Tristan asks me all about life.

We talk about the beach and promise to get a house together sometime next summer... Wrecked be damned.

We know it may not happen and that's good for me because it's definitely little space.

I decide impulsively to tell him.

If he hates me, fine but I doubt he will.

Somehow I think it'll be okay and I'm tired of hiding who I am from one of my closest friends.

"Tris?"

"Can whatever it is... happen in the pool? I'm so hot."

I answer by jumping in and claiming the unicorn.

He said I could.

"What is it?"

"Do you know what 'Littles' are?"

If he does that'll save a lot of explaining.

"Are you being kinky? Like littles? Cause if you mean little league or little people I'm, well, yes. I know what littles are."

He looks at me and grins.

"Why?"

"Because I sort of am one," I mumble under my breath.

God this is scary.

Why is it so scary?

"I always wondered. How old are you when you are in little head-space?"

That's it?

No shock?

No grimacing?

No... anything?

"Um, seven or eight maybe. I'm not sure."

"Ah, so no bottles and diapers?"

"No."

"Hey, no kink shaming, Finn."

He smiles at me.

"So you really, really like the unicorn, eh? And Emmett is your Dom?"

"Yeah."

I'm bright red.

I am so, so embarrassed.

Like I could die.

Fall into a hole.

A whirlpool could develop right beneath me and I will die holding onto this float.

Not a bad way to go I guess.

"Pease, don't tell anyone, Tris."

"What about Peter? Can I tell him?"

"I don't know, I have to ask Emmett. Work, you know?"

Tristan nods.

"I get that but he won't care. So tell Emmett that Peter won't care and then let me know asap because you know me... I could just spit it out on accident."

I do know.

Shit.

"Emmett?"

This needs to be handled now.

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

Note

May I request for traffy when he finds his s/o passed out in the middle of the hall

yes, of course; i love putting law in stressful situations! i had fun writing this so i hope you like it <3

866 words, gn reader (no pronouns), sfw

he warns you about your all-nighters; that you shouldn’t push yourself too hard, especially with how long the polar tang has been submerged. you often find yourself lightheaded, not bothering to disclose your discomfort to him for fear of retribution of some kind. and still, you don’t listen. if only you can push yourself a little more—be more than just the newest member of the heart pirates, someone of use to him.

it eats at you, this feeling; the idea that you could ever be anything more than useless doesn’t register in your brain. instead, you berate yourself daily, finding that you’ve become sullen under the weight of all of your endless critiques. so you work—tirelessly. you barely take any meals, an action that he’s noticed with a permanent frown because of it. every time he wants to bring it up, you somehow busy yourself—a new book to read, notes to organize, things to discover; telling him let’s put a pin in that so frequently that he often says it before you do.

because he’s not the sort to pry without reason, he reluctantly lets you have your space; but as the hours turn into days, the days into weeks, his worry intensifies. it’s unlike you to roam about like the undead, bumping into your crewmates without noticing. he’s ghost-like in how he follows you around, silently motioning for the others to carry on as he observes you from a close distance. on a morning where everyone sleeps in, he washes up before seeking you out. he feels obsessive in a way; always longing, unable to reforge the connection that you once had, driven by the insatiable need to see if you’re okay.

and maybe when he puts his mind at ease, he’ll back off; but for now, he’ll take things into his own hands.

his booted footsteps echo around the hallway, bouncing off of the walls, rattling his nerves without consideration. when he takes the next corner and he finds you on the cold, metal floor, papers scattered about, ink stains on your wrist and fingertips, mouth slightly ajar, faintly breathing. his stomach drops, an irrational panic shooting through him before he sprints over to you. crouched on the ground, he rolls you onto your back, lithe fingers gentle as they prod around your body, checking for the tell-tale signs of a concussion.

you’re having such a lovely dream, one where he takes you to unspeakable heights, a small whimper shooting out of your mouth before you softly call his name out. at this rate, his frown will be a permanent fixture in his life. he brushes some hair away from your face, careful to not disturb you as you rest. you’ll never admit to this truth, but he’s right: you do snore. not that it bothers him—it’s proof that you’re alive. it gives you character, he said once in the middle of lunch; the memory comes to him now, a small smile tugging on his lips as he takes you in his arms. you used to complain that you were too heavy for him to carry you like that, but he shushed you and proved you otherwise each time.

even now, as he makes the long trek back to his room, all he can think about is putting you on his bed and tucking you in securely. you stir in his arms, feeling fuzzy as the motion of his strides wake you up; instinctively, you reach your fingers out and graze his shirt with your nails, fatigue etched into your body, so you can’t say much—although you want to. badly.

“stop that,” he instructs firmly, glancing down once, dark brows furrowing as his eyes narrow at your. “i knew you’d run yourself ragged one of these days.” a tsk bubbles up in the back of his throat, but he does his best to keep calm and swallows it instead. there’s no need for him to beat a proverbial dead horse, so to speak.

your eyelids flutter, unable to properly focus your sight on him anymore, and feel the warmth behind his words. his room is essentially for show; lifeless still lifes, dark furniture, shades of blues and grays, a compact bookcase—he barely spends time in there; but for your sake, he will. in order for you to recover your energy uninterrupted, he makes sure you stay put and keeps his bedroom door locked.

“thanks,” you manage to say, voice soft, practically silent, the blanket wrapped around you cozily.

he opens his mouth to tell you not to thank him—that he should’ve watched you more carefully, that he should’ve asked you what was wrong sooner—when your fingers wrap around his snugly. he plans to sit at his desk while you sleep, but you silently urge him to lay next to you. the hesitation is brief and he hates himself for it. you continue to hold his fingers until he firmly pries them away from you. then, the mattress dips slowly and you feel the hard planes of his body against your back. his arm hangs around your waist protectively, his fingers gliding along your stomach playfully, the softness of your skin putting him at ease.

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #law x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #law is so dramatic but sometimes he's right #this went in a completely different direction but i like it #fic request #lovin-past

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sie-rui · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I request the unknown number with the haitani brothers?

❀ UNKNOWN NUMBER | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 haitani ran, haitani rindou 💿 female reader, second pov (you/your), tw: sexual harassment, implied violence, breach of privacy, stalking, established relationship, imagine 📅 august 25, 2021 🔗 masterlist ,, version: 01, 02, 03

some people need to understand that no is no, and that dick pics are very much not appreciated. the boys are going to make sure some people know that.

. . . HAITANI RAN

It was amazing how stupid people can be.

Ran knew that you were beautiful, he was reminded of it every single day whenever he sees you, whenever he thinks of you, whenever he has to fend off another asshole trying to pick you up. He just can’t believe that people weren’t getting the hit that you were his and he was yours and no one is allowed in between lest they want to face Ran’s baton.

Apparently, self-preservation skills get thrown out the window because people are always trying to get in between the two of you. It's amazing how Ran hasn’t gotten arrested for almost murdering more than then people at this point.

Not only does he get jealous easily but almost-killing people is starting to not get enough.

Just a little more and he might actually get sent back to jail, permanently, this time.

So when you come up to him, tears in your eyes, Ran just knew that someone was truly going to die tonight and he had to pack his bags and run away from the police. (Perhaps prepare some fake IDs as well.)

You soon find solace on his bed and when Ran wraps his arms around you, he finds that you were shaking badly. Your nose was red and pure genuine fear swallowed your eyes.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” He repeats, trying to keep himself calm when all he could see was red because who the fuck made you cry.

Ran feels the familiar shape of a device pushed to his chest and he looks down, snatching it from your finds as you gave it up with no struggle; merely pushing your head to the space between his neck and the pillow.

It was still vibrating, the phone in his hand.

He swipes it open, already knowing the password by heart, your anniversary.

The sight that greets him turns the red in his eyes to pure black.

“How long?” He murmurs.

Messages, and only recently, pictures were popping in your phone. Pictures of you walking home, pictures of you where you wore what you were currently wearing now. Before that were messages, questions about your address, your age, your sizes, things that one shouldn’t give up to a stranger.

You only shake your head.

Ran looks down at you, averting his gaze from the screen, in case he ends up chucking it across the room or slamming it on the headboard.

Maybe he should. He’d find a way to get you a new one, just to make sure this bastard can’t find you anymore.

Ran looks at you, small, afraid, shaking you. And thinks, he doesn’t mind going to that sick sick place if it means you’ll be living a life without any fear of anyone watching you or bothering you.

He runs his hand through your hair, soft compared to the burning uncontrollable rage crashing inside him and the tight grip he had on your phone.

And he whispers, low and dangerous and a tight smile on his face. “I’ll get rid of them for you.”

. . . HAITANI RINDOU

There is nothing in this world that Rindou wouldn’t do for you, even if he doesn’t like admitting it. Perhaps, outright murder is one of them.

See, despite him always acting as if he didn’t care, he truly does. And he’ll be damned if someone ever makes you cry or if one single strand of hair is messed from your head (unless it was him who did it; there are certain exceptions, this is one of it).

Rindou doesn’t get all yandere like his brother (“I do not!” Ran whines when his younger brother starts murmuring to himself and he manages to hear tiny parts of the silent conversation.), but he gets just as dangerous.

So when he saw you, looking at your shoulder with eyes blown wide, not in surprise but in genuine terror, Rindou was already cracking his knuckles.

Even from a distance, he could tell the way you held onto your arms wasn’t comfortable, grip tight and lightly quivering but not from the autumn wind. You bite on your lip uneasily, guarded.

Rindou plops down on the space next to you, the bench creaking at the sudden weight. You flinch, hard, almost jumping out of your seat and he couldn’t help but raise a brow.

Surely, no one in an opposing gang tried to target you, right? Rindou made it clear that you weren’t to be touched or else bones would be breaking and heads flying. Not even the bravest man wants to face the Haitani brothers’ wrath.

“Rin!” You exclaim, a shaky smile on your face and all he wants to do is wipe it away. He would rather have you just break down than even dare give him that kind of smile.

He squints, noticing the gadget in between your hands.

Rindou only stretches a hand out, palm upwards, awaiting the device while his other arm is on the back of the bench, safely wrapped behind you. Your expression sours, once more looking around and he chews at his gums, trying to look at the surroundings from the corner of his eyes.

There was no potential idiot. Just a couple or two a few steps behind, one with kids, the other with a dog. They were too far away from the both of you so he couldn’t tell the conversation but they were impossible to look suspicious.

Rindou snaps out of it when the warm device reaches his hand, already unlocked as you look at him with pleading eyes; not to stop him from opening it but for help.

He inches closer as you rest your head on his shoulder, silent whimpers in your throat. If this was any other situation, Rindou would have turned red from neck to the tip of his ears, already throwing himself away as if he was electrocuted.

This was not any other situation.

Not when the thing that greets him from your phone was an unknown number asking for your address, for your school, for your social media accounts, for pictures.

Tokyo is wide and vast, Japan even more so. Haitani Rindou is going to look for one person, no name, no picture, just a number, and he doesn’t really feel like giving up.

He shuts it down, slipping it inside his pocket and you watch it without any complaints, almost looking relieved that you could at least temporarily lose contact with that asshole.

“They better be ready because I won’t give them time to even scream when I find them,” he murmurs, hand on your shoulder, gently tapping onto it when he was already losing his mind at the thought of someone having the guts to even message you so desperately when you already had him in your life.

He wordlessly presses a kiss on the side of your head, already planning what to do next.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers ran #haitani brothers #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani #haitani ran #ran x reader #ran #tokyo revengers rindou #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #rindou

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etherrreal · 2 years

Text

“8:26PM”

Pairing: akaashi x fem!reader Genre: fluff Summary: after a late night at the office, you're ready to skedaddle, but your work husband akaashi is draped over his desk, fast asleep, and what kind of work wife would you be if you just left him there? WC: 1,319 A/N: how can I not write something for the prettiest setter in all of haikyuu? -Luna

"Again?"

You’re on your way out of the office when you pause to see Akaashi passed out on his desk for the umpteenth time, face smooshed against his arm as he attempts to lay on the tiny amount of space in front of his keyboard. His glasses are half off his face, one of the arms sticking across his forehead while the other half of the frames are pressed against his face. Nothing about his position looks comfortable in the slightest, but his gentle snoring says otherwise.

You tiptoe over to his desk as quietly as you can, getting a closer look at his face to see the drool trickling out of his slightly open mouth. You’ve always known he’s a hard worker, but you’ve never thought it was so intense that he would crash and begin drooling at his desk.

Carefully, you place your hand on his shoulder, whispering his name in hopes that you don't startle him too badly. His head shoots up, eyes open but unfocused as he looks around his environment. It’s amusing to watch his brain boot up like an old dell computer as he slowly registers that he’s fallen asleep at work and it's dark outside now.

"Damn, that must've been a good nap," you joke, watching him take long blinks as he finally sits up.

He rolls his chair back when he stands, hands reaching above his head while he stretches. His shirt becomes untucked as he does so, showing a sliver of skin above his pants that you try your best not to stare at.

"Thanks for waking me. I guess this article was so boring it put me to sleep," he says, cleaning up his desk.

"It's no problem. I can't have my work husband slacking. It'll make me look bad as your wife," you playfully chastise, leaning against the desk next to his.

He rolls his eyes, but you know by the small smile forming on his face that he finds you amusing.

Your relationship with Akaashi is an interesting one. You both were quick to click in the beginning, bonding over a book you both happened to be reading at the time. It gradually evolved into a mutual friendship where, on the clock, you would be each other's primary soundboards for headline ideas and rephrasing sentences, and, off the clock, you would discuss your current reads and talk about your mutual disdain for your coworkers, sometimes even more personal business.

Said coworkers observed your closeness over the months and started making jokes about your relationship, saying that the way you two interacted and how much time you spent together at your workplace made it seem like you were work husband and wife.

It was so prevalent that you and Akaashi started using the terms ironically yourselves, whether it be you accepting your morning coffee from him and saying, 'thank you, work husband' or him calling you the 'ol' ball and chain' when you needed help thinking of a better lead to an article. But, like most things that begin ironically, it eventually became unironic in its use and more of a reflex with how you refer to each other. There are some instances where you wonder if it's still a joke or being used with genuine affection, but at this point, you're too afraid to ask, fearing that you might not like the answer.

You’ll never admit that him referring to you as his work wife—whether it be ironically or affectionately—makes you feel giddy every time. That you’re hoping that maybe he'll come to bring you your coffee and stay a little longer to flirt a little while on the clock. That every time you see his notification ping in the corner of your eye as you're working, you hope that it'll be the one asking you to do something outside of work without the ties to your job.

It's a secret you're prepared to take to your grave if the topic never comes up organically in conversation, or at least until it becomes something that Akaashi brings up himself. Until that fateful day, you're going to keep your little work crush to yourself lest you make a fool out of yourself by confessing.

"I'm shocked you're here this late," you comment, cocking your head while you watch him pull out his flash drive to put into his computer. "You're usually one of the first ones out. You shouldn't make it a habit to stay here so late."

"You're here late, too, though. More often than I am. What's your excuse?"

"Well, yeah, but I, uh, ya know—" You attempt to come up with an excuse for your unhealthy habit, knowing that regardless of the reason, he'll still scold you, but nothing comes. It doesn't help that he's giving you a look, a knowing side-eye with an arched brow. What a handsome asshole. "Shut up. I should've left you sleeping here all night if this is how you were gonna treat me."

"And neglect your wifely duties? I don't think you'd be able to sleep at night if you left me here."

"I would sleep like a baby knowing you're here, I promise."

"So, what? Waking up every few hours to cry for me?" he snarks.

Suddenly, there's a pen flying by his face that he barely manages to dodge, chuckling at your tantrum. He sits back in his chair as his computer shuts off, capping and uncapping his flash drive in one hand while the other rubs at the exhaustion still in his eyes. It's easy to tell how sleepy he still is with how slow he's moving and how unfocused his eyes are as he looks at the floor.

He also happens to look adorable like this.

"You okay to drive?" you ask, watching as he slowly stands up and sets his backpack on his chair so he can once again stretch.

"No, I'll probably have a cup of coffee first to wake me up."

"It's, like, 8PM. You'll be up all night if you drink caffeine right now."

He shrugs, looking quite apathetic at the moment.

"I can always give you a ride," you suggest, hoping you don't sound too eager. During the very few times you've carpooled together over the length of your careers, it's always been a pleasant experience, but it's few and far between simply because there's hardly a reason to do so since you both have your own vehicles.

"But my car—"

"I can just pick you up tomorrow, then. No biggie." You can only hope that you pull off the nonchalant act very convincingly.

Akaashi chuckles, turning around to put his flash drive away and sling his backpack over his shoulder. "Like real husband and wife."

"Y-yeah, pretty much, I guess," you stutter. And maybe it's your own confirmation bias, but you swear you see a twinkle in his eye that's never been there before when he speaks. It feels like an out-of-the-ordinary comment to make, at least with the addition of the word ‘real,’ but you’re not sure what’s ordinary for you two anymore.

He gestures for you to walk in front of him, the twinkle still bright in his eye. "Alright. Lead the way, honey."

Fuck, he’s smooth. "Of course, darling." It flows off the tongue so naturally, and you try not to let the exchange affect you at all, at least not to his knowledge, but you can't help the little giggle you let out with it.

Even as you drive home, the giddiness from hearing him call you ‘honey’ never subsides, and you fight to keep a smile off your face the entire drive home. But, at one of the red lights, you look over at him and see him already staring at you, and you’re absolutely sure that the twinkle is there because it’s no doubt being reflected back at him in your eyes, too.

Written by: Luna

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#akaashi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #haikyuu x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu imagines #akaashi x female reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #akaashi imagine #hq x reader #akaashi keji x you #akaashi fluff #our writing #luna writes #haikyuu fluff

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rageagainstmymachine · 2 years

Text

Under the Desk - Primis! Richtofen x F! Reader

Summary: You suck off Edward under the desk. Shameless self indulgence.

Words: 2,952

Warnings: NSFW - Cursing, Smut

“Scheiße…” Richtofen muttered under his breath, plopping his finger in his mouth.

Like most days, he was hard at work. Tinkering with a new toy or machine, currently is was the wunderwaffe he had - it had jammed pretty badly and stopped working entirely, almost costing him his life if it wasn’t for you fighting off a horde while he switched guns. The pocket knife he was using to pry a piece off slipped and nicked his finger. You saw him lick the blood off before pulling his figure out, shaking it slightly.

“You okay?” You ask from where you sat opposite of him.

“Ja, it isn’t deep.” He sighed, inspecting the cut. “I’m just… stressed, I suppose.” He let the knife fall on the table, bringing both hands up to rest his head in them.

“The fact that you just openly admitted that tell me how bad your stress is.”

Your hand reached across the once beautiful wooden desk to place it on his own, your thumb rubbing circles in his flesh. He looked tired, as he always did, but the exasperated expression he had amplified it.

The five of you haven’t had a real break since you don’t know when. Safe house to safe house, horde to horde, dust to dust, you get the idea. Constantly on the run, running without a clear view ahead. It got exhausting, and your body was slowly breaking down because of it. This kinda life made sure blisters didn’t heal or bruises not go away. After a particularly bad slam, Edward has had a bruise on his forehead for weeks now, it felt like. Definitely from a mix of not sleeping, eating, and relaxing enough.

Edward was the worse out of you. He was always doing something. The small moments y’all did get to relax he was still working, day and night. He was anxious about what was in store for y’all, and as much as he didn’t want to show that to the rest of them, he would confide in you small bits and pieces of all the worry he had.

“Eddie, you really should take a break.” You tell him. Just as you thought, just telling him that didn’t work, he furrowed his brow and shook his head.

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.” He muttered, half joking, half not. When he saw your worried expression deepened, he just sighed. “I can’t liebe, not now.”

He picked up the knife again and continued to work on the weapon, prying off one of the metal plates. You watched him intensely, brewing up in your mind how to get him to relax a little. An idea popped in your mind that made you want to split your lips into a devilish grin. It took everything you had to keep it down.

“Sweetheart, I have an idea,” You breathe. You stood up from your chair and sauntered around the solid desk, coming to stand right next to him. Your hand found his shoulder before ghosting up to the back of his neck.

Edward raised an eyebrow at you, knowing just exactly what that tone meant. You’ve used it several times on him. His pulse quickened and although his body was extremely reactive to your suggesting tone, his brain still had majority control, and tried to turn you down.

“Schatz, as tempting of an offer that is, I really need to get this fixed.” He said quite begrudgingly. He absolutely did not want to turn you down, honestly if he had it his way he would spend every single day in bed with you saying yes to your every request, but unfortunately life didn’t work that way. You flashed him that wicked grin you fought so hard to keep away.

“Darling, I didn’t say anything about you stopping your work, I just said I had an idea.” You grabbed the back of the rolling chair he was in and pulled it away from the desk. You stood in the small space you had created between him and the desk and get on your knees, crawling under the desk. You grab his legs and pull him back to his original position. “Just keep working and let me get some of that pent up stress of yours released, how does that sound?” Your hands travel up his legs and grab handfuls of this thighs.

“Gott im Himmel.” Edward breathed, completely taken aback by your proposition. He had to say no to you because he needed to continue working, right? But if he was still able to work… he had no reason to say no to you. If he wasn’t so flustered he would grin at your thinking. “Ja, ja, I think I can work with that…” he said barely above a whisper.

He leaned back in his chair to watch your hands spread his legs more as you got comfortable between them. His pants were starting to get tight, he was excited for you to do something about that.

Too slowly in his opinion your hands went to his belt and undid it. You took your time with the buttons of his pants, you knew it drove him wild - the tent in his boxers solidified that. You kissed the fabric that separated you to your prize, and Edward shuttered at it. It has been a good minute since the two of you were intimate, so he was extremely sensitive.

He knew the whole point of this was so he could keep working. Work while you sucked him off… did you really expect him to be able to focus? Now that you were making out with his clothed dick, all he could focus on was you. He just wanted to watch you and your mistreatments, wunderwaffe be damned.

You decided to just get him out of his fly, not bothering to pull his pants down more, you didn’t need to, this was just going to be a fairly quick blowjob. He groaned as he sprung free, feeling relief from his constricting pants. His cock was already dripping precum, tip red and needy waiting impatiently to be in your mouth. You had to tease him just a little bit though.

With his cock in your hand, your tongue darted out and licked a stripe from base to tip, catching all the precum before taking the head into your mouth. You gently sucked as your tongue traced around the slit. Edward’s eyesbrows raised at the inner corners and his eyes were lidded. He panted and lowly moaned from your teasing. He bit his lip to keep quiet. You could feel his cock twitch in your mouth when you moaned around him, sending electric pleasure up his spine.

“Goddamnit… Richtofen!”

Your reel back, his cock falling out of your mouth as yours and Edward’s eyes instantly widen when you hear Dempsey call from just outside the room, no doubt walking this way. Edward looked panicked, eyes darting from you to the door, a million things racing between the two of your minds.

“Fuck. Ah… Verdammt, just stay there, don’t make a sound.” Edward instructed, pulling himself almost flush to the desk.

The desk was closed off on three sides, so you staying there and not getting caught was plausible… but was it feasible? Edward didn’t even bother tucking himself back into his pants, just doing his best to look presentable from the upper stomach up. He mindlessly grabbed the knife again to pretend to be doing work. You could hear the sounds of footsteps shuffling in the room. Your stomach dropped when you realized it was more than one pair. You could see Edward’s leg start bouncing. Fuck.

“Where is (y/n)? I thought she was with you?” You heard Nikolai ask. Your eyes squeezed shut, feeling a little woozy from the situation.

“Ah… she, went on a supply run. We are running low on food und I am running low on medical supplies.” Richtofen lied through his teeth. His voice was fairly even, you wondered how much it took him to muster that.

“How long do you think she’ll be gone? We all need to discuss some things about our next objective. We can wait for her to get back.” You could hear a chair get dragged across the floor close to the desk. Dempsey let out a small groan as he sat. You were really screwed, weren’t you?

“Nein!” Edward exclaimed, shaking his head. “She will be gone for quite a while, we can have the discussion now und I will relay it to her.” He shifted in his chair, unknowingly pushing his half hard cock closer to your face.

You… felt something. Something you didn’t expect after feeling terrified these last few minutes. You felt some sort of sick excitement from the possibility of getting caught. Of course, you didn’t WANT to get caught, but the chance of it made you feel a type of way, a type of way that was especially dangerous to Edward.

You paid half attention to the discussion, not really any importance compared to what was in front of you. There sat an entirely venerable man, who if you were to do something was entirely at your mercy so as to not get caught. That wicked smile found its way to your lips again as you decided to say ‘fuck it’ and have your fun and do what you love most - teasing your beloved.

You placed your hand on his knee and let it slide up again, grasping and squeezing the supple flesh of his thigh. As you did, his leg immediately went rigid, tensing, almost as to say “what are you doing?!” After a minute, and him possibly realizing you weren’t going to stop, he slowly relaxed it, getting used to your touch. When you got your hand closer to his crotch, his dick would harden a bit more, even in this intense environment your touch turned him on.

Not even a moment after, your hand was wrapped around his dick. It twitched in your grasp and hardened even more. His legs tensed up again but he remained silent while the others rambled. You could tell it was getting close to when they expected him to speak again, so you just had to torture him.

Your lips wrapped around the tip again, tongue swirling around it while you sucked on it with a moderate amount of pressure, much more than the light sucking you were doing right before you were interrupted. Your tongue found his frenulum as he began speaking.

“J-ja, I believe so. That’s…ah what the Kronorium said, anyways.” He got out. His voice sounded entirely strained and ever so slightly uneven. You could tell his breathing was much quicker than it should have been if he was just sitting there, sitting there not getting his cock sucked.

“What’s up with you?” Dempsey asked, sounding more annoyed than anything. They were used to Richtofen’s mood swings so it wasn’t entirely surprising.

“Nein, it’s nothing, just tired.” He waved him off, you could tell he was doing everything he could to sound normal, his tensed legs proved that to you.

You continued just pleasuring the tip as the conversation continued, you were more than happy to keep doing that, but the way his hips started to spasm told you he was begging for more, he couldn’t take this torture. As that as your cue, you rapidly take his entirety into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat and your nose brushing against his exposed pubes. His cock violently twitched in your mouth at that, his entire body stiffening. The slightly salty taste of precum found your tongue. He let out a breathy moan, barely loud enough that you could hear, but soft enough that it was drowned out by the others’ talking. His leg was bouncing, and you could feel him take a shuttery breath in. God, the situation you had him in turned you on immensely, you knew you were dampening your underwear, and by how much that tortured you, you couldn’t begin to imagine the heavenly hell you were putting Richtofen through.

You began bobbing your head up and down on his cock, pulling out enough to suck on the tip again, just to sink back down, it rubbing against the back of your throat. You had tears in your eyes holding everything in, every gag, every gasp so you wouldn’t be heard. Edward’s legs squeezed around you, you figuring it was a way to keep himself grounded.

You couldn’t imagine what facial expressions he was exhibiting. We’re his eyebrows knitted together? It would make him look focused and frustrated. Or were they strung up? Making him look concerned? That would surely give him away, Richtofen would never give concern to another, except you, of course. You assume his hand was in front of his mouth, to hide any silent gasp escaped him. All that might work, he might even look inconspicuous, but what you really yearned to see was how his eyes looked right now. You have seen that fucked out expression of his before, was it flashing in his eyes right now? Loudly telling the world you are fucking him with your mouth? Some deep piece of you hoped it did.

His breathing was shallow now as you sped up a little, in both bobbing motion and sucking. You feverishly lick the underside of his cock, pressing mercilessly against the head when you went up. It was his turn to talk again, and by the way his body reacted to you, he was getting close to cumming.

“Once… the preparations are finished we will… Ah… Verdammt… head to the next location. Und eventually with the summoning key…” His voice was a slight notch higher than normal, and it still sounded strained. You wondered if the others noticed it. You grasped his cock with your hand and started jerking him off, mouth focusing entirely on the tip now. His precum leaked out in a steady manner, and both his legs and his dick was starting to twitch more often, any second now he would explode, you knew it. “We will get to the… whatever dimension.” He gave up on his explanation. You could tell he gestured vaguely, barely having the coherency to think straight. He was getting pleasured under the table and no one knew it, he couldn’t care less about explaining in detail.

You bobbed your head a few more times, tongue licking everything it could reach and hand twisting as it jerked him. Edward took a sharp gasp of air in and tensed his entire body, you finally pushing him over the edge. His cock pulsed as thick strings of cum coated your mouth. His hips jolting into your mouth more, chasing the orgasm that wrecked through his body. You still your head but continue to suck, wanting to milk him for everything he had, you happily swallow everything he gives you.

His body was still for a good few moments, his cock still pulsing on your tongue, you could tell he was holding his breath afraid that he would let out a moan if he didn’t. His legs once again squeeze around you, but this time begging you to stop, starting to get overstimulated from your sucking. You comply, and let his softening cock fall out of your mouth, you slowly and quietly letting go of the breath you yourself didn’t know you were holding. He did the same, going slack and letting a shaky breath out.

You smile, entirely pleased by how it went, you again wonder what kinda expression he had on. Richtofen’s voice had now mostly went back to normal, he was able to participate more so the conversation ended up being pretty lengthy, you spending your time rubbing his thigh but in a more sensual manner. Once the three others were content with the natural end to that conversation, they eventually filtered out back into the rest of the house, in that time you did your best to stuff him back in his pants, feeling like you at least owed him that.

When they finally left, he sat still for a minute, making sure none of them were coming back, before pushing away from the desk, his eyes meeting yours.

He had a stern look on his face, and just about hid the dreamy one from his post orgasm glow, but you could still see it. He looked like he wanted to scold you for doing that to him. But, Edward could only sigh and give you a lopsided grin. He offered you his hand and you gladly took it. You groan as you stretch your legs out, them feeling stiff from kneeling for so long, and your knees not feeling any better.

“You know, when all of this started, I knew I had evil waiting for me, aber I didn’t know it would also appear in the form of einer Frau.” He teased, pulling you to sit on his lap.

You smile at him with faux innocence like you didn’t just suck him dry. You give him a tender kiss, a sweet tone finding your voice. “You know you love it.”

“Mein gott, I do.” He said like a prayer.

Edward might not have gotten his work done, nor really listen to their concerns at all, but thanks to you he did feel a lot less stressed. Only problem is, now, any time he would sit there to continue to fix the wunderwaffe, all he ended up doing was replaying that memory over and over again, getting all aroused in the process.

He needed to find somewhere else to tinker.

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#edward richtofen #primis richtofen #call of duty #cod zombies #x reader #fanfic #smut #no beta we die like men #female reader

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babyboibucky · 4 years

Text

Promises, promises

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You believed that promises are meant to be broken but Bucky always proved you wrong. Until one day, he proved you right.

Word Count: 6,555 (oops I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Angst, a tiny bit of self-doubt but with a happy ending!!!

A/N: Some tags aren’t working, damn u tumblr! Anyway enjoy the angst and the shitty writing lmfao. Also kinda want to do ficlets for these two??? Like short fics about the happenings in their relationship, their first date, how they dealt with the break up idk, lemme know if anyone’s interested in that xoxo

MAIN MASTERLIST

It's been four and a half years since Bucky broke up with you and honestly, you're fine now. Fine, as in you've moved on from him and that you haven't been stalking his Instagram account anymore or have been asking Steve how he's doing since the break up. You're fine now, really.

There was not an ounce of denial left in your body after almost two years of pining and self-blame. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten the pain he caused you when he woke up one day and realized that he didn't need you anymore.

Forgive and forget they often told you and you badly wanted to do so. But it wasn't that easy to do, not when you still feel the pain as if it only happened yesterday.

"What did you say?" your forehead creased as you walked around the kitchen counter, quickly approaching Bucky who had his back to you as he stood in the living room of your shared apartment.

You weren't sure if you heard him right, or if he actually said anything. Perhaps you were just hearing things? Just this morning he woke up and greeted you with his charming smile before pressing a soft peck on your lips. You had cooked breakfast together, laughed together and even talked about what to have for dinner.

Sure, something about his demeanor earlier was a bit off, but you assumed it had something to do about his work and not because he wanted to break up with you.

Right?

"Bucky, what did you say?" you pressed when Bucky remained quiet; he didn't even turn around to face you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, "I said I need space." he murmured.

"What do you mean, Buck?" you asked again, voice small and shaky as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Of course you knew what exactly Bucky meant by that, but you didn't want to believe it. You were hopeful that maybe this was one of those petty fights you used to have, one where Bucky would spend the night over at Steve's. He'll come around the next day, he always does that. You always woke up to him whispering apologies to your ear and you would say your sorry too.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before finally turning to you, "I can't do this anymore." he said, shaking his head before averting his gaze to the floor.

He must have seen the look in your eyes when he faced you. As much as you believed that you were pretty good at hiding your emotions, it never worked on Bucky. He was the only person who could always read you; you could never hide from him.

"Bucky, I don't understand." you let out a nervous chuckle as you hugged yourself, biting your lower lip to prevent them from quivering as you held back the urge to cry.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, "I just...you've been too...fuck, I don't know how to say this without hurting you. I really don't want to." he admitted dejectedly, looking up at you.

You scoffed, "Just fucking say it, Bucky. I'm already hurt just by having this conversation." you told him.

"You're too good for me. Way too good."

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind again as you laid your eyes on him, four and a half years after your break-up. And just like that, you were back to square one.

You did your best to avoid him after he left, you felt like Bucky too tried to do the same. It was harder than you thought, given that you belonged to the same circle of friends. There were missed birthday parties, anniversaries and get togethers. If you knew Bucky was going to be there, you’d bail. Thank god you had a bunch of understanding friends who never took your absences against you.

But an engagement party between two of your friends? Now that was something you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

You’ve been really happy for quite a while now, to the point that it never crossed your mind that Bucky would surely be attending as well. He had been out of your system since the day you decided to move past him, which is why you thought that you were finally a-okay.

Tonight proved you wrong because as you watched Bucky smile and greet your friends, you realized that you still wanted to punch him and hurt him and tell him that you were still in lo—

“Hi.”

You were too focused on daydreaming about how you wanted to hurt Bucky that you failed to notice that he made his way to you and was now waiting for you to greet him back.

Bucky was smiling at you the same way he did on the night you first met at a college house party. You and Bucky have been together for that long.

“Hi.”

The music was too loud that you missed out on the stranger’s greeting, if not for his shadow looming over your hunched figure as you sat on the staircase, you would’ve completely ignored him.

The guy was looking down at you with a charming smile that made your cheeks turn pink. He was tall and slightly muscular, something you noticed right off the bat all thanks to the tight red henley he was sporting. The guy had long hair too, but it was tied back into a low man bun that was messy enough to leave tendrils of stray hair to frame his handsome face.

“Hi.” He repeated with a chuckle, a hint of amusement laced in his tone as he bit his lip at the sight of you just staring up at him.

“Hi?” You stammered awkwardly.

He laughed, “Um, can I pass through or is there some sort of password required?”

You realized that you had been blocking his way, everyone’s way actually. Quickly, you apologized and stood up to leave your spot only for the guy to block your way before you could even hop off of the last step of the staircase.

Thinking that you must have confused him and the direction you intended to go, you murmured a soft apology again before sidestepping him but to no avail. You looked up at him with a frown when you noticed that he was intentionally blocking your way.

It didn’t help that he was way taller than you. Despite the one being on the last step of the staircase, the guy still loomed over you.

“Excuse me?” You snapped and tried to move past him but he was way bigger than you and managed to stop you from passing through.

He had a cheeky smile on as he watched your futile attempt to squeeze your way out of his large body. You huffed out when he held onto the rail while his other hand on the wall, completely trapping you on the staircase.

“What’s the password?” He asked, still grinning at you.

You deadpanned, “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

You stared at him blankly before glancing at his hands, observing whether you had a chance at prying them away from where they held on. It was then that you noticed how his left hand was covered in tattoos. The sleeve of his henley rode up quite a bit to reveal that his tattoos reached his wrist, he probably had his entire left arm sleeved with ink.

“Can I please pass?” You huffed out when you concluded that there was no way you would be able to escape him.

“Like I said, I need a password.” He insisted.

“Penis.” You stated, face free from any sort of expression.

The guy choked on his laughter, “Why would you honestly think that?” He asked incredulously.

You shrugged, “I thought you guys liked dick jokes.” You reasoned out.

The guy laughed as he shook his head, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“It’s not the password?” You asked. “Don’t I get a hint or something, I really don’t have time for games right now. I have to go back to my dorm. I have a test tomorrow.” You told the guy.

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about a test. What’s your major anyway?” He asked.

You groaned, “Like I said, I don’t have time for games or even for a conversation. Come on, just let me pass through!”

The guy hummed as he stared at you, as if he was thinking of something. You wanted to look away but he had beautiful ocean blue eyes that you found yourself slowly getting lost in.

“I’ll give you hints.” He announced. “Two hints actually, because I’m feeling generous.”

“Okay, then. Just spit it out!” You rushed.

The guy grinned.

“The password is made up of your name followed by your number.”

“Hi.”

You blinked when Bucky repeated his greeting. When you regained your senses, you cleared your throat and simply nodded at him as acknowledgment. You saw how Bucky’s smile faltered seconds before you looked away and pretended to look for someone.

“I can’t believe you just brushed me off.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Bucky had cut off his hair right after graduation. He sported a clean cut since then but now he had longer locks; not as long as his college hair though. It just looked fluffier, you fought the urge to imagine how it’d feel through your fingers.

“I can’t believe you just expected me to greet you as if nothing happened.” You told him, letting your eyes wander around the place.

Bucky exhaled heavily and shook his head, “I thought we’d be okay by now.” He admitted. “Guess I was wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, snapping your head into his direction after avoiding his gaze earlier. “I am okay, but that doesn’t mean I am okay with being around you.” You hissed.

“I honestly thought we’d still be friends, you know. Civil at least.”

What has gotten into Bucky’s mind for him to expect a lovely reunion between the both of you? Things didn’t end well, he just left. He was too ambitious to even think that you’d greet him with rainbows and butterflies.

“We’re not friends, Bucky. Not even acquaintances.” You told him.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something until someone tapped on the mic, announcing that the newly engaged couple, Wanda and Vis, had something to say to their guests. By the time he looked back at you, you had already walked away and joined Nat at their table.

It reminded Bucky of the days when he used to watch your back retreat into your dorm whenever he walked you home.

“So, you gonna tell me the password or what?”

You felt all your blood rush to your head and you’ve never been thankful for existence of strobe lights. You were probably red as a tomato. Who wouldn’t be anyway? This handsome dude just asked for your name and number!

“Is this a joke?” You managed to asked and thanked the heavens that you didn’t stutter.

The guy shook his head, “I don’t really joke around.” He shrugged.

“Why do you even want to know my name and number?” you curiously asked.

Bucky shrugged, “Been watching you since you arrived.”

“Creeper.” you accused.

“Hard not to when you’re the only grumpy person in a party. I know your friends dragged you here, I mean you said you have a test tomorrow and you don’t seem the type to party a day before. Besides, you’ve been keeping to yourself the entire time. Figured you might want some company, one with substance.” he boastfully wiggled his eyebrows at you.

His confidence appalled you but you were also surprised at how he seemed to have read your mind. Or personality, in general.

“Hey, Bucky!”

You watched the guy turn his head towards front door where a blonde guy— Steve from the student council, you recognized— entered. You thought it’d give you a chance to slip away but the guy, well Bucky, kept his hands in place.

“Kinda busy right now, pal. I’ll catch up with you later.” He said.

Steve’s gaze moved past Bucky until they landed on you. He chuckled as he shook his head at his friend’s antics. Steve walked away but not without acknowledging you.

“He may not seem like it, but Bucky’s a good guy. You can take my word for it.”

Bucky turned to you and lifted an eyebrow, “I mean, coming from a student council member, that’s a pretty credible source.” He said confidently.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. You had to admit, Bucky had a way with words and actions. His boyish charm was working on you and you hated how easily you were falling for it. And you just met the guy like ten minutes ago!

“So, what’s the password?” Bucky asked again.

You tapped your foot as you crossed your arms over your chest, “You promise to let me go if I tell you?”

Bucky made a face, “I don’t think that’s the right term because you can expect more of me once you give me the password. But I’ll definitely step aside. That’s a promise.” He reassured.

“Promises are meant to be broken.” You stated.

“Yeah, well watch me prove you wrong. Password? Pretty please?” He asked cutely and fuck, Bucky was really winning you over just like that.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you tell him your name and number. Just as he promised, Bucky stepped aside and quickly fished out his phone to type in your number. You honestly didn’t expect for him to remember it after hearing it once, but you peeked and he actually did. Impressive.

“Like I promised, off you go to study.” He said and motioned his arm towards the front door.

You sighed and offered a small smile before finally walking past him. You were about to open the front door when Bucky beat you to it.

“I told you ‘let go’ is the wrong term ‘cause I’m walking you home tonight.” Bucky said. “And tomorrow night too. And the next night and the next next night. Or afternoon. Morning? Whatever time your classes finish.”

Bucky really proved you wrong that night because he did walk you home the next night and the next next night too. It went on until he no longer had to watch you enter your dorm or apartment because eventually, the two of you ended up going to the same home.

It’s very ironic really, that it was also Bucky who failed to prove you wrong when he broke his promise not to hurt you, ever. You wondered whether it was your fault that you actually believed in him. It was hard not to though, because Bucky’s earned your trust from all the promises he made and kept.

Which is why it was even more painful when one day, he decided to break the one promise you truly held on to.

“I’ll always love you, you know that right?”

Bucky blurted it out randomly that his statement confused the hell out of you. The two of you were just playing a video game when he said it, making you hit pause.

“And where did that come from?” You asked with amusement.

Bucky frowned, “You could’ve reacted differently. I was hoping for a high-pitched ‘awwww!’ and this is what I get?” He teased, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb to pull you close so he could bite your nose playfully.

“You said it out of the blue!” You told him with a laugh. “But it made me happy though.” You admitted and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, well it’s true. I mean, this thing we got? It’s forever.” Bucky said and lovingly smiled at you.

You pretended to gag at his words but it was obvious that you felt like you were on cloud nine when Bucky said that. “Cheeseballs!” You teased.

“This cheeseball’s gonna put a ring on that finger one day. That’s a promise!”

A finger snapped right in front of your face, “You good?” Nat asked.

You nodded and tried your hardest not to look at Bucky. He was seated with Steve, Sam and some other guys at the table next to yours. You could feel him staring at you and it was making you anxious. Nat and Sharon exchanged looks before letting out a sigh in unison.

“Come on, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that!” You told them with a forced chuckle.

“What did Bucky say?” Sharon asked. She’d seen Bucky approach you upon his arrival, saw the expressions you both had as you talked and knew immediately that it didn’t go well.

Nat hummed before taking a quick sip from her glass of wine, “We’ve been watching and we’re curious.”

“He was expecting for us to be friends.” You simply stated.

Nat and Sharon groaned and rolled their eyes, “What a dick.” Nat said.

“Men really do have the audacity.” Sharon laughed and shook her head.

You joined her laughter and lifted up your own glass of wine, “I’ll drink to that.” You said before finishing your drink in one go.

One glass of wine turned into two and then three and then four. Six drinks later and you were buzzed and unstoppable. You weren’t that drunk, you were good at handling alcohol but you were tipsy for sure. The formalities of the engagement party were finally done and the guests were left to mingle around.

Wanda and Vis immediately went to your table to catch up and after giving them your heartfelt congratulations (and apologies for missing out on plenty of events), you decided to step out of the venue to get some fresh air.

The silence allowed you to process your thoughts, the same thoughts you had repressed for years. You were happy for Wanda and Vis, truly. The two have been the epitome of soulmates and it was only right for them to end up tying the knot. But you also couldn’t help but wonder, would you and Bucky end up in marriage too had he decided to stay and work things out with you?

You lift up your left hand and stared at your bare ring finger. Just a few years ago, you’d been wearing a simple gold band studded with tiny diamonds around it— a promise ring. Bucky had given it as a gift on your 6th anniversary. You’d gotten together when you were just 19 and Bucky 21. People always doubted that your relationship with him wouldn’t last long given that the two of you were so different. Not to mention, Bucky had a reputation. Girls fawned over him; he was tall and handsome, had a rugged appeal to him thanks to his long hair and tattooed left arm. He drove a damn motorcycle that got him into trouble plenty of times.

You were Miss Goody Two Shoes who played it safe and Bucky was the Big Bad Wolf who liked taking risks.

It was a surprise when your relationship with him kept on progressing and the next thing you knew, the both of you have been together for a total of eight long years. It would’ve reached nine but shit happened and Bucky decided that those eight years didn’t matter to him anymore.

“Can we talk?”

If Bucky asked you that a couple of years ago, you would’ve probably punched him in the face and kneed him at the crotch before running away. Well, you still wanted to do so but a part of you wanted to talk things out. Get a proper closure maybe since Bucky failed to give you a detailed explanation that would help you understand why he chose to leave you.

Nat told you once that some things are better left unsaid. You spent years secretly pining for Bucky after the break up, spent nights questioning yourself where you lacked that made him leave you. You’d asked Steve about Bucky whether he met someone knew or how he was dealing with the break up; it did you more damage than good until you finally gave up and decided to actually move on.

But now that Bucky was here and there was no way to avoid him, maybe you deserved this confrontation after all.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the pavement right in front of you.

You felt Bucky stand beside you, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans before turning to you, “About us.”

You snickered, “Us? What about us? What is there to talk about us?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

Bucky’s eyes have always been your favorite feature of his. They were very expressive and if Bucky could see through you every damn time, it was his eyes that you could always read. They were still blue but they held a certain emotion in them as he gazed at you.

Sadness and...regret?

Before your assumptions could get the best of you, you turned away and waited for Bucky to speak again.

“I can’t keep on avoiding you.” He said. “I’ve been doing so for the past few years and it kills me.” He admitted.

“And you think I want to keep doing this too? I’ve missed out on so many occasions because I just couldn’t be around you. You’re not the only one struggling.” You said.

Bucky shrugged, “Then let’s stop avoiding each other.”

The way he suggested it almost offended you; he was so nonchalant about it as if it was so easy to just let him waltz back into your life. Truth was, you dreamt of the day that he’d come crawling back to you. But you knew better than to let your walls down just because you miss him.

“When Steve told me that you seemed to be doing well, I really thought it meant that we can become friendly with each other, y’now. I mean, eight years. Those years meant so much to me, we’ve been through a lot and—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Barnes?!” You bitterly chuckled.

“If those eight years together really meant a lot to you, you would’ve stayed. You would’ve allowed me to work it out with you! But what, you broke up with me because you thought I was too good for you? That you felt suffocated just because I was looking out for you?”

You didn’t mean to snap at Bucky like that, in your mind you thought you would be able to have a calm conversation with him. But with the alcohol running through your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing yourself and and feeling the same way you did on that specific night.

“Too good? How am I too good for you, Buck?” You asked, immediately wiping off the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You have everything planned out! For yourself, for us. And it makes me feel fucking useless! I see you work your way up at your job and I’m still figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life!” He exclaimed.

You shook your head, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” You whispered. “If you told me this then I could’ve done something about it, Buck! Rather than let it get this far, I would’ve fixed it.” You told him and tried to reach out but Bucky took a step back.

“That too! You’re a fixer! You always end up fixing things. This relationship has become an endless cycle of me fucking up things and you picking up the pieces. And every single time you clean my mess, I feel like you’re hoping I’d be like the others. It’s like you’re trying to make me into a person I’m not just so I could fit this, this certain mold you had in mind!” He accused you.

You wiped again your tears and refused to believe him, “That’s not true, Bucky! I’ve always loved you for who you are, I never asked you to change for me!”

“Yes, you do! You never said it but I always felt it...when Steve got promoted and when Sam finally launched his business. You always wanted me to be like them, you never said it out loud but that’s what you made me feel whenever we talk about my job...or lack thereof.” He chuckled bitterly.

Bucky may not be traditional in the sense that he considered himself an artist. He never liked the idea of settling for a nine to five desk job so he took on a job as a tattoo artist. It wasn’t a permanent job and he didn’t have clients demanding for him all the time so it gave him time to work for a motorcycle shop too.

It was never a problem for you but practically speaking, your and Bucky’s joint savings wouldn’t be enough for the future that the both of you have planned out.

“I’ve been supportive of you! I never asked you to give up on those jobs, Bucky.” You defended yourself.

Bucky nodded his head, “You don’t know it but you do. That’s how I felt whenever you suggested that I try something else.”

“It’s because I know you can do so much more! Stay at the tattoo parlor and mechanic shop, then fine! But don’t settle because you have the potential to make it out there, that’s what I want you to know! I don’t understand why you’re limiting yourself, Buck. Why you’re suddenly so afraid.”

You carefully took a step closer to Bucky and thank god he let you this time. You swallowed the lump in your throat and reached out to cup his face in your hand. Bucky was livid, his chest rising heavily with every breath he took.

“You were the one who taught me to be brave, to take risks. I used to be so afraid, remember? Afraid to ride your motorcycle, to try out that job I thought I couldn’t handle. I was so scared to commit,” you chuckled, remembering how much you hesitated to give Bucky a chance when he asked you to be officially his girlfriend.

“...but you’ve always been there for me. And I want to do the same with you. I know that it seems scary to let go of what you believe is your calling. You don’t have to let go of it, Buck. But you gotta try something new too.” You said as you let your thumb caress the skin beneath his eyes.

There was silence between the two of you. Bucky had calmed down and you thought that it was over. Little did you know that it was simply the calm before the storm. Because the words that came out of Bucky’s mouth were the words you didn’t expect to hear.

“Well, this is me trying something new.”

Bucky refused to meet your gaze and simply let your hand move away from his face. You shook your head no as you turned around to compose yourself.

“We were fine this morning, Buck. What happened?” You asked and embraced yourself, seeking comfort you knew you’d only get if Bucky changed his mind.

“I thought we were fine too. But the tattoo parlor is closing in a month and we haven’t been getting plenty of clients at the motorcycle shop. And it just hit me y’now, I dread coming home to you because I know you’d be disappointed and that again, you’d offer to fix my shit and the thing is, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to fix my shit or tell me how to deal with my problems! I woke up and realized that I just don’t...” Bucky paused when you swiftly turned around with a frown, eyes brimming with a fresh new wave of tears.

“Don’t say it, Bucky. I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t nag you or pressure you into anything. Just please, don’t say it. Please don’t. We can still work this out.” You begged Bucky.

You weren’t sure you could take it, what he wanted to say. You already knew what he was going to tell you, you didn’t want to hear it. Let other people say it but god, it’d break you if you heard it from him.

“I’m sorry but I don’t need you anymore.”

The stabbing pain in your heart felt so familiar, the kind that punched all the air out of your lungs. You thought you were done crying over Bucky, but you were so wrong.

“I fucked up.” Bucky huffed out, bowing his head as if ashamed.

“You realized that just now?” You snickered. “Do you know how long it took for me to get over you? To forget the pain from hearing you tell me that you don’t need me anymore? After eight years together, Buck. You were my first everything and you gave up on us. And you really expected us to be friends, just like that?!” You spat.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed, lifting his head to look up at you and you were surprised that his eyes were glazed with tears.

“I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong. Because you were right, I shouldn’t have settled then. But god I was an idiot, an insecure idiot.” He admitted.

“I was so used to being the one who guided you that it fucking hurt my ego when I noticed that you were becoming your own person outside of our relationship. I was supposed to be the one supporting you, pushing you to be better. You ended being the one leading me. I let my ego get the best of me and thought I’d be better off without you. But it was the biggest mistake of my life because when I left, I felt even more lost.” Bucky explained.

You were left speechless, you weren’t sure why Bucky was telling you all this. Did he want you back or was he simply apologizing? You didn’t have words so you remained quiet and waited to see whether Bucky had more to say.

“I’m so sorry, I really am. I hurt you. I should’ve stayed, should’ve worked with you to fix our relationship. I hate what we’ve become, I sincerely wanted us to be civil with each other at least.” He said.

“Bucky, you’ve been saying the same thing over and over again. I’m not sure you understand the situation. I can’t be friends with you. Not after what happened. I thought I was fine but now I realized that I’ve never really moved on from the pain you caused me.” You told him and sniffed, looking back to check whether your friends could see you.

Thankfully, all the guests were still busy mingling with each other. It’s as if the universe meant for this confrontation to happen. But now you weren’t sure what to do after you finally got a clear explanation from Bucky.

“I wanted a fresh start with you.” Bucky said. “Thought that it would make it easier for me to win you over if we were friends again.”

You scoffed in disbelief, “It’s not that easy, Buck. I can’t just let you walk back into my life after your apology. It doesn’t work that way.”

You tried to move past him but he immediately blocked your way, “When I said I’ll always love you, I meant it. I still do. I want to make things right, please. Give me one last chance to fix this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was Bucky’s words and how sincere he sounded that made your head spin. Your heart was racing and your palms turned cold. You wanted him back too, so bad but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. He broke your heart and your trust, you weren’t sure if you’d survive if he left you again.

“I can’t continue this conversation, Bucky. I have to go.” You told him and made your way towards the door to the venue.

However, Bucky was quick to stand in front of the door. He had a determined look on his face, one that looked extremely familiar. You were still hurt but couldn’t deny the fact that you too, still love him.

Even after everything that had happened, Bucky still owned your heart.

“Bucky, can you please move? I want to go home.” You said and tried to reach for the door knob but Bucky moved and leaned against the door.

“You need a password to get through.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’re way too old for this, Bucky. I’m not playing with you.”

He shook his head, “I’m not playing either. Give me the password or else we’d be here the entire night.”

You huffed out, “This isn’t funny. Let me through.”

Bucky shrugged, “No can do. Like I said, I can do this all night.”

You deadpanned, “What’s the hint?” You asked with a defeated sigh, knowing well enough that there was no way you could walk past him without playing along with his stupid little game.

“Consists of three words.” Bucky said.

“Penis boobs vagina.”

Bucky cackled, “And I thought you said we’re too old for this.”

You groaned, “I’m serious, Bucky. Just let me go.”

“No. I made that mistake once and I’m not doing that again. I love you. And I promise that this time, it’ll be different. I know you still love me too, so again I am asking you to take a risk and say it.”

Bucky said it with conviction and you hated how it made your stomach flip. Up until this day, Bucky had a way to make you fold. And he could still read you.

“I’m not saying it, Bucky. How sure are you that I still feel the same anyway?” you asked.

Bucky tipped his head towards your neck, “Not sure if you just forgot but you’re wearing the promise ring as a necklace.”

Fuck. Of course, you’d forgotten about it. You may not have been wearing it on your finger, but you still continued to wear it. It meant a lot to you even after the break up, so much so that you couldn’t simply throw it away or remove it. You figured that it might be better to keep it around your neck. Out of sight, out of mind but still there. You wanted it to exist, it was a part of you.

“Say it and I promise that you won’t regret it.” Bucky insisted.

“Promises are meant to be broken. You proved that the night you broke up with me.” Your voice quivered when you said that.

“And I want to make it up for it for the rest of my life.” He reassured.

“History repeats itself. I don’t think I can deal with it again if you realized the second time around that you don’t need me. Buck, you really hurt me.” You said, voice cracking before you could even finish your sentence.

Bucky quickly took your face in between his hands and for some reason, it felt right. The warmth of his palm, the love in his eyes as he gazed at you, it felt like home.

“I know and I hate myself for it. So fucking much. But I promise you, it wouldn’t happen again. I fixed my life when you left, realized that you were right. I’m better now. So let me be the fixer this time, let me be the one to fix this mess, to pick up the pieces. Because I’m just as afraid to let you go again. I can’t do that again. I love you and I need you. I always did.”

The kiss he pressed on your forehead caused your walls to crumble down. All of a sudden you were sobbing into his arms and apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you then, Buck. I didn’t know, I’m sorry too.” You cried.

“Shh, no. Please don’t apologize.” Bucky coaxed as he pulled back to kiss your tears away. “None of this was your fault, baby. It’s all on me. Let me make it up to you, please?”

The term of endearment made your heart flutter and as much as you hated how Bucky easily won you over, again, the love you have for him was quick to outweigh it. You knew you shouldn’t have given in to him just like that, but this was Bucky. He was your greatest love, someone who owned your heart even after he left.

“I miss you, baby. Couldn’t fathom the thought of you being with someone else.” Bucky admitted as he hugged you tightly.

“I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. I hated myself for hurting you. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

His hand rubbed circles against your back, helping you calm down after your breakdown. He swayed you from side to side, pressed kisses on your crown and whispered promises that he was sure he was going to keep and you basked in it. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your face into Bucky’s neck and inhaled his scent.

He smelled the same, like comfort and love and trust. You hugged him tighter and smiled into his skin and mumbled, “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, “You got the password right but I don’t think I’m letting you go just yet.”

“Nat and Sharon’s gonna kick our asses if they find out.” You chuckled.

He pulled back and stared at you lovingly, “I’ll take the hit for you.” he laughed.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled again, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Forgiven.” You told him and stood on your tiptoes until Bucky bent down to meet your lips in a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss. Four and a half years of pain and anger all gone and replaced with the love you always had for Bucky. His lips against yours made you dizzy but in a good way.

It felt right, like this was how things were really supposed to be.

You pulled back and sighed, “As much as I want to stay like this, I’m really tired.”

Bucky let you go but took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m driving you home tonight.” He said.

You smiled.

“And the next night. And the next next night.”

Yet again, Bucky proved himself to be worthy of another chance. Because he drove you home the next night, and the next next night. It went on until he regained your trust back and all was well enough for him to finally reveal the black velvet box that he had been keeping in his pocket since the night of your eventful reunion.

“You need a password to see what’s inside.” Bucky grinned up at you as he bent down on one knee.

You chuckled through your years, “Any hint?”

“One word, three letters.”

You wiped away your tears with a smile followed by a subtle nod.

“Yes.”

Bucky kept his promise all along, he really did put a ring on your finger. Took quite a while with plenty of obstacles that caused its delay, but a promise fulfilled nonetheless.

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#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan

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