#a teenager who did what he thought was right while put under incredible pressure and pain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allmightluver · 3 years

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**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana.

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy.

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further.

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury.

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on?

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him).

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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When the Pain Ends // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Breaking up with your boyfriend ends with your broken hand, a broken heart and a trip to Canada. Getting out of Oklahoma for comfort of your younger brother Owen brings you into contact with a sweet Canadian.

Warnings: Swearing, hospital, cheating boyfriend, angst and bit of fluff

Words: 3.1k

Requested: No.

A/N: Tidbit of info is that I am a university student. I had last week off and I’m six minutes into my History Zoom Lecture. Here’s a little fic.

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Masterlist

The scowl glued on your face as you waited in the ER for the results from the x-ray you had gotten back from minutes ago. A bag of ice on the swollen knuckles of your right hand still splattered in drops of blood. The same blood as the small drops on your shirt as well. If that didn’t put a scowl on your face, it was the next issue.

The reason for your visit to the ER was in bed next over complaining as a nurse checked his face. His eyes meeting yours in a blend of guilt, regret and fear almost. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes.

Let’s backtrack a little for a short history.

The summer after graduation, you had met a guy on the beach playing volleyball in need of another player. You joined, and then you fell for the guy just as he did for you. For the last three years, you were now twenty-one years old. Parker had been a really good guy. Until yesterday.

“Babe!” Parker sounded congested with the bandages held up his nose. He had been fighting the nurse to come to your side.

“Don’t call me that!” You hissed glaring at the tall boy with the auburn hair colour that had once been your favourite colour.

“C’mon it was a mistake-Ow!” Parker whined at the nurse applied more pressure as she cast a sympathetic glance at you. A small smile of thanks passed to the nurse who had maybe pressed a little no hard on Parker’s nose.

Your eyes rolled at the drama that was Parker when it came to injuries that had been his entire fault, to be frank. Your fist meeting his face? His fault for cheating. What did he expect? A congratulations? Screw that.

“Say anything else I swear I’ll hit the other ball.” You glared at the boy sending him to a fit, shaking fear of stupidity.

The beach was filled up with teens and adults with children on the nice weekend day out of the loud city. Originally you hadn’t been able to join Parker with your mutual friends, but something else had spurred you there. Instead of having the weekly movie night via FaceTime with your younger brother, you had other plans. A particular video sent by Parker’s best friend and his cousin too had brought you here. Livvy had grown close in the three-year relationship you had with her cousin.

Your fury filled gaze flickered around the beach and the grass in the large opening area of the waterfront. Finally, your eyes found Parker sitting with Livvy on the blanket on the grass with Steve. Livvy was the first to see with marching through the people spreading like a curtain from the angry girl.

“Hey, Parker!” You shouted at your boyfriend in a conversation with your other two friends. Parker’s smile grew just before it falters at your expression.

“Hey, Babe,” Parker spoke, climbing to his full five-foot-ten stature. Livvy’s smile pulled up in an amused smirk while Steve looked more confused.

“How was your weekend at your sick Granny’s house?” You came to a stop a foot away from him. Arms crossed just under your chest his thick eyebrows furrowed together.

“Uh…it was okay. She’s feeling better.” Parker nodded to himself tilting his head to the side, “It was-“

“I hope she better. Her treatment must have been incredible.” You replied, unfurling your arms to grab the phone from your back pocket.

Parker grew more confused, “What?”

“The doctor sure knew what he was doing. The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The whistle you made after your statement sounded, but you grew more satisfied with the circle of people behind you.

“Oh.” Steve choked, raising one fist to press against his mouth. By now Livvy had started recording on her phone.

Livvy and Parker may be cousins, but she loathed cheaters when it was the cause of her parents’ divorce. Parker’s lips parted as he paled. The click of the glass screen brought up a video of Parker and a brunette in a hot tub.

“Ba-“

“Fucking look at your actions.” You hissed stepping even closer, “Was it worth it? Jeopardizing a relationship with someone you share years of memories with? Years of love and trust? All for thirty seconds of fun? We both know you tend to…get too excited.”

“Oh shit,” Steve spoke, shifting his gaze between you and Parker like he was a bobblehead of Einstein. The very bobblehead that you had laughed giving Steve with his obsession over the legendary scientist.

“It just happened. I still love you. I just needed a- “Parker stumbled back bringing his hands to his face, “OW! You broke my nose!”

“Ouch.” You hissed shaking your aching hand coated in some blood that splattered your shirt from shaking the hand.

“What the hell! You bit…holy fuck!” Parker screamed as your foot came up between his spread legs, nailing his left nut. He collapsed onto the grass, struggling to hold his bleeding broke nose and his nuts.

“That’s what you get asshole.” You shouted, turning to Livvy, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

“Parker drove, I’ll drive you both there. Steve can keep you two from fighting.” Livvy spoke, ending the video to shove everything in the oversized beach bag.

Now it was hours later as per usual in most hospitals elongating the time you were forced to spend with your now ex-boyfriend. Livvy and Steve had gone home a while back. Parker continued trying to fix the unrepairable damage he had done.

“Y-“

“That’s it!” You exclaimed jumping down from the bed to storm over to Parker. You made a few steps before arms encircled your waist.

“Okay, Slugger.” The gritty voice of your father spoke tugging you as far away from your ex-boyfriend as possible, “As much I want to kill him, I think you broke his pretty-boy face enough.”

The anger drained from your body as you slumped against your dad anguish set in with a tsunami of hurt. Time melted as you broke in your father’s arm; missing the doctor giving information. Your hand was fitted with a cast, and next thing you were aware of it was in the car.

“You bruised hits nuts. Broke his nose.” Dad nonchalantly spoke, turning the steering wheel as he exited the hospital parking lot. He didn’t bother making small talk as he let you be quiet on the drive home.

You didn’t know what hurt more, the heartache or your broken hand stabilized in the brace. The clearing of a throat had your attention is drawn to the house you had grown up no doubt holding your upset mother.

“She’s not that mad.” Dad quietly spoke, handing your phone that had died during the time in the ER. You shot him a look at the inaccuracy of his statement because you both know she was angry.

“Her daughter just spent hours in a hospital with a dead phone. We both know she probably thought I was dead in a ditch.” You deadpanned as you both walked up to the door of the home in Norman, Oklahoma.

The door opened before you could reach for it, and a flurry of blonde hair attacked you in a hug. Your mother hugged then leaned away to scan your features. Catching the dried tear stains paired with the red-rimmed eyes.

“Sweetheart.” Dinah spoke, raising her hands to wipe the tears from your face only causing more to fall, “What’s wrong?”

“Parker cheated on me.” You mumbled melting into her arms in another round of tears, breaking your parents’ hearts.

Meanwhile in Vancouver, Canada

Owen loved his job and the people he had met, but he missed the weekly movie nights with his older sister. The Joyner siblings had gotten down pat a system of sync to have the same movie playing at the same time on FaceTime. Imagine his surprise when he got a text apologizing.

Virtual movie night postponed. It put him in a slump that greatly concerned his roommate at the decrease of excitement. Even the next day, he was sad like a kicked puppy.

“Bro? You good?” Charlie asked from his place in the kitchen, scanning his emails on his computer. Owen barely made his eyes, “Wasn’t movie night with your sister yesterday?”

Owen nodded, “Yeah she-“

As Owen had gone to explain his phone had dinged with a concerning message from his mother.

Mom: Have you heard from Y/N? She hasn’t come home.

Owen swiped out of the conversation to the most used one with you shared with him to send a mass of messages. All not even coming up as read by you. It was his stipulation that you had it one for his safe of mind.

“C’mon you little shit,” Owen grumbled, pressing your contact to call. It didn’t even ring, “Dead cell.”

Charlie’s full attention shifted to the younger guy sitting on their couch in the apartment they used during filming. As Owen started pacing, Charlie was over quick as a bunny to offer comfort to him. The boys had grown so close, with Jeremy too, that they knew how to help the other.

“Owen, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Charlie soothed the blonde with his eyes pleading with the teenager.

“My parents haven’t talked to my sister. She didn’t go home.” Owen admitted scratching at his chest when his chest tightened. The other immediately finding his pulse on his neck to ensure he still had a pulse.

“Oh shit.” Charlie retorted, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor trying to find the right words to help his friend.

For the next hour, the boys kept in contact with Owen’s family and checking your social media in shifts as they filmed. It was a slow day when Owen’s phone finally rang with his mother’s contact once more.

“Mom, did you find her?” Owen asked, picking at the skin on his lips pacing as he had all day. The level of anxiety had been perfect for the scene he had filmed as Alex.

“Yeah. Look, Owen, she needs to get out of Oklahoma. Do you have room for her?” Dinah asked her son periodically glancing in the living room at the lifeless young woman.

“Yeah. We have an extra room.” Owen supplied squeezing the phone in his grip, “How is she? What happened?”

“I’m letting her settle before I ask any questions, but her flight is in a bit. It was either you take her in, or we pay for a hotel room. Oh! I got this lego-“

“I have to get back to filming. I’ll call you tonight.” Owen told his mother as his thumb hit the record circle on his phone. Kenny waving him over to film a scene with Booboo that would be the last before heading home.

The over the counter pain pill went down with a swig of water in the airport waiting for Owen and his roommate. Owen had messaged you that he would pick you up on the way from the set in perfect timing.

“Y/N!” Owen cheered catching sight of your form hunched forward on the bench you had miraculously found empty. Your blank eyes seeing the blue of your younger brother.

Owen’s eyes widened in shock, “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Noncommittal, the girl walked by her brother with her luggage in the mission to get to the car. All you wanted was to burst into years under your blankets until the world turned again, when birds sang, and the word wasn’t painted in dull colours.

Just as it had during the ride from the hospital to the house, it was dead silent in the car with the barest sound of music. Owen and Charlie had been having a conversation with expressions with the tension in the backseat stifling.

“This is our place.” Charlie spoke, opening the apartment door with a flourish for the girl and her luggage. Your eyes scanned the modest apartment with minimal mess compared to the tornado devastation of Owen’s Oklahoma room.

“Okay.” You replied, watching as Owen rolled the luggage to the room you would use for the few weeks you would be here.

Once showered, dressed and settled, you retreated to the couch to watch a film with the two boys. Your mind fluttered between Beca’s blow out with her father and Jesse to the city of Norman. As if thinking of Parker manifested something your phone buzzed with notifications.

@/livvyjo: Go, girl! [video]

@/malia134: Parker goes down like the bitch he is!!!

@/notsteverogers: I got a front-row seat to the fight.

Those three comments on Livvy’s video had more support than hate plus the video itself was hilarious. It caught the entire confrontation from greeting the cheater to being pulled away to spend the ten minutes in the same car. The car you had hooked up in the backseat of in the years you dated him.

“-The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The pure anger on your expression amused you.

“What are you watching?” Owen inquired from the couch he watched the movie from. It made up for the lack of a film last night.

“A girl punching her bag of shit ex-boyfriend. She almost ripped his face off in the hospital.” You softly replied with your thumb double-tapping Livvy’s post.

Charlie’s attention shifted from the pool mashup with the Barden Bellas to the pride evident in your tone. It was the first time he had heard you laugh during the few hours he had been in your presence.

“What movie?”

“Oh, you know Parker’s Dicked Down Adventures. Filmed free with an iPhone.” You spoke sliding down to sit flush to Charlie to show the video you refreshed.

Owen’s mouth opened, “He cheated on you? How stupid is he??”

“You have a mean right hook.” Charlie supplied replaying the video for the third time with a weird feeling in his gut. The confidence stirred a body warming heat in the Canadian actor unlike anything else he had felt before.

“Dad taught me.” You replied, slouching down in the plush couch with a tiny smiling, “The nurse heard what happened. She put excessive pressure for his actions. I overheard his diagnosis; nasty bruised testicle and a broken nose.”

Both boys winced at the description. Owen ditching Charlie’s side to sit beside you, leaving you in the middle of the boys.

“I almost attacked him before Dad dragged me out of the room.” You recounted snuggling into your younger brother’s side.

“Where are my keys?” Owen questioned his roommate, “We need them to drive to the airport. I need to kill the ass that hurt my sister.”

Your deft fingers grasped Owen’s wrist when he went to get up because, in all honesty, he probably would book a flight. He wouldn’t go through with the plan to physically hurt Parker, but Owen had a wicked tongue for insults.

You spent one month in Vancouver with your brother and his castmates from helping Maddie with her homework. Movie nights with Owen changed to include Charlie too. Shopping trips with Sav and Tori. Baking with Jadah. You became family with them.

All good things come to an end. You had settled back in Norman with brighter plans that didn’t involve relying on men. Movie nights still happened with the boys, but things got hectic. Virtual movie nights shifted to texting Charlie and calls.

“Hey dork.” Charlie spoke walking down the street in Vancouver to the restaurant he was meeting the cast at. His lips pulled back in a massive grin, hearing your voice.

“Hey Char!” You enthusiastically spoke, walking out of the building with more pep in your step at the voice of the man, “What’s up?”

“On my way for food with everyone. How are you feeling?” Charlie asked, rubbing his fingertips on the dark denim pants. The sound of your voice brightening up his day more than he thought possible.

“Ooh. I should let you go, huh?” You questioned shifting to hold the phone between your shoulder and chin. Fingers unlocked the new car you had bought with the money you had saved.

A nice change of money from selling the jewellery, clothes and other miscellaneous gifts Parker had given you. The necklace he gave you that once belonged to his grandmother had been given back to him. Other than that you had no interaction with the ass.

“I’d rather talk to you.” Charlie admitted biting his lip in concentration, “I have a question.”

“Okay. What’s your question?” You questioned as your phone connected to your car—Charlie’s voice coming through the car speakers.

“Filming is almost over. Do you have plans for New Years? I’d like you to see you again.”

His words set a flutter of butterflies moving in your stomach at his nervous confidence striking the new information. The change in your friendship had been felt on his side as well and while you usually would think one-month post cheating wasn’t long enough. Something about Charlie felt comfortable as if everything had been preparing to fall for him.

“I could fly-“

“I’d like to see where you grew up. Your favourite places and where you went to school. I want to know the little things that made you who you are.” Charlie spoke coming to a stop outside the restaurant, waiting for your answer.

Owen’s eyes pulled from his debate with Sacha and Jeremy to the nervous Canadian biting his lip outside the window. By the expression on his face, Owen couldn’t guess who he was talking about. It was the smile that had been appearing on Charlie’s face for the last two weeks you had been staying with them.

Charlie had fallen for Owen’s big sister, and he couldn’t think of anyone better. The bond between you and Charlie had been natural and magical to watch. It was kinda gross seeing his best friend and sister having heart eyes with each other. Yet, Owen had never liked Parker, but he loved the idea of having Charlie as a brother.

“Y-yeah. Of course, you can Char.” The flattering blush heated up your skin at the turn in the convo—a grin splitting on the two individuals with more than three thousand kilometres between them.

“Cool. I should join the cast. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Charlie.” You whispered to the boy looking out the window noticing something she had been oblivious to.

The world had regained the colour, the birds sang again, and the world turned once more. All because a boy helped her heal.

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#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #luke patterson imagines #jatp fanfic #charlie gillespie #caitsy and ash productions

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evafrechette · 3 years

Text

With A Little Help From My Hyung

↠ yoongi x seokjin | smut | friends to lovers, slow burn | 18+ | 2.4k

↠ Summary: Seokjin is the best roommate Yoongi could have asked for, he’s funny, respectful, a good cook and incredibly handsome. That’s a big problem though - because Yoongi has a constant boner over him.

↠ Warnings: eventual smut, drama queen yoongi, oblivious seokjin, blowjobs, standing sex, yoongi enjoys seokjin carrying him around, anal sex, yoongi is clumsy and hurts himself, which is a great excuse to have seokjin look after him, the other members make a small appearance, my fic usually has a few swear words, hyung kink???

"Hyung, stop it. Leave me alone." Yoongi's deep voice grumbled defiantly.

"Aish, quit being a baby Yoongi-yah, let me help." Seokjin held his hand out to the smaller man who sat on the cold concrete ground below him, food scattered around his aching body, tangerines rolling down the sidewalk.

Yoongi slapped away Seokjin's hand, scowling at his annoying roommate. He got onto his knees and attempted to stand, wincing in pain the moment he put pressure onto his left foot. Only moments before he and Seokjin had left the convenience store, arms full of energy drinks, jelly candy, ramen and tangerines. But Yoongi being Yoongi was busy in his own world and didn't notice the patch of ice on the footpath right in front of him, once his foot touched the slippery ice he slipped and wobbled about, struggling to balance before his legs came out from under him, falling directly onto his ass. Paper bag flying out of his grip, contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

He tried to stand again, taking his time as he clung onto Seokjin's arm, managing to get himself upright, left foot hovering above the ground, but when he placed it firmly against the sidewalk pain shot up his leg and he suddenly felt faint. "Shit, I think it's broken Hyung." He looked up into Seokjin's eyes, refusing to let the tears spill. Yoongi was in pain, a lot of fucking pain but he couldn't let his hyung see him be a cry baby.

"You hit the ground hard but it's probably just a sprain or something, I doubt it's broken. You're a real drama queen Min Yoongi. Can you stand by yourself for a bit?" Yoongi nodded in reply and let go of the elders arm, watching as he carefully rushed around picking up the spilled food and shoved it into his own bag. Seokjin walked back to Yoongi, spinning around so his back faced the man. He crouched down, holding the overfilled paper bag tight against his chest. "Jump on Yoongi-ah, and don't even try it with me. I'm your Hyung you have to listen to me."

Yoongi rolled his eyes but slowly hobbled over to his taller roommate, awkwardly jumping onto his back, arms wrapping around Seokjin's neck, and his short legs around his waist when the older man stood. "I don't have to listen to shit." He mumbled into Seokjin's messy brown hair. Seokjin let out his trademark high pitched laugh as he carried his injured roommate back towards their apartment, "You're so full of it Yoongi."

The walk would usually only take five minutes, but carrying a grown man (who enjoyed complaining every few minutes) had a part in the trip taking close to twenty. Yoongi laid his head on Seokjin's wide shoulders and enjoyed the way his oversized blue shirt smelled of a calming mix of lavender and vanilla bean, he took a mental note to check what brand of washing powder the man used when he got home.

Something about being carried on Seokjin's back made Yoongi's belly flip, he had never felt so small and vulnerable in his life. He was the strong one of their group - the pit bull, small but tough, with an acid tongue that could make a grown man cry. But being carried around by his cute, tall, goofy roommate was actually kind of comforting, it felt nice to snuggle against his broad shoulders.

Yoongi could feel his cheeks heating up, he had been crushing on his video game loving roommate for a few months now. At first the blond thought they were just compatible roommates, respecting each others boundaries and privacy, they quickly became friends bonding over their love of cooking, but along the way Yoongi developed feelings. His eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than what was socially acceptable, sneakily scooching closer to his side on the couch while he watched Seokjin get annihilated playing video games and "accidentally" falling asleep during their movie marathon nights, head resting comfortably against Seokjin's shoulder. But Yoongi knew nothing would come of his little crush so he kept his feelings locked away and instead tried to focus on their good friendship instead.

Seokjin carefully placed Yoongi on the couch, pushing a cushion under his now swollen foot. He rushed off to Yoongi's room and returned with a blanket which he draped over the smaller man. With a happy hum he walked towards the kitchen and Yoongi watched with lovesick eyes as he put away their food shopping. Everytime Seokjin reached up for the top shelf his shirt would raise a little, giving Yoongi a glimpse of the tantalising caramel skin underneath. Yoongi longed to drag his calloused fingertips along that skin, to leave small kisses down Seokjin's spine, along his lower back and down over his firm ass. He sought to taste Seokjin, to feel his cock heavy on his tongue, to feel the burn of his cock stretching him out.

"Hey Yoongi are you okay?" A cool hand placed against his forehead brought Yoongi out of his Seokjin induced daze. His roommate was looking at him with fondness and concern, "Your cheeks are really red but you're not hot or anything. I thought maybe you were coming down with a fever." Yoongi knew he was even redder now, but he allowed himself to relax against the man's hand. He sighed when Seokjin withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bean bag on the floor. "Yeah, no I'm fine. Just a bit embarrassed about this." Yoongi waved his hand over his ankle.

"Aish, these things happen. Just have to be more careful. And Hyung is here to take care of you okay? Anything you need you let me know. Keep that boney ass of yours on the couch."

The pair spent the rest of the night watching a marathon of Law of the Jungle, empty containers of ramen and Kloud draft beer scattered across the coffee table. Yoongi as usual was unable to keep the snarky comments to himself, "Pfft look at them! Useless. I could survive on that island so much better than any of them." He quipped as a team of celebrities dived into the ocean to try to catch fish with just their hands.

"Errrr Yoongi-yah, did you forget that I had to carry your tiny ass home this evening? Your weak ankles wouldn't last a day on that show." Seokjin doubled over in laughter, clapping his hands loudly as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Jin-hyung," he scoffed, "Like you'd do any better."

"Pretty sure I'd do great on a show like this! You've seen me fishing Yoongi, I'm practically a professional at it now."

Yoongi groaned at this, Seokjin had dragged him out fishing more times than he could even count and he was nowhere near a professional level. The last time they went fishing together Seokjin didn't catch a single fish. He did manage to catch some seaweed and disintegrating plastic bag though.

Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and instead of fighting the feeling allowed himself to drift off to sleep, which wasn't hard as sleep was his favourite hobby after all. Yoongi was having a beautiful dream, he was being carried in Seokjin's strong arms as the brunette carried him along the golden hues of a sandy beach, gentle waves breaking along the shore splashing against Seokjin's bare feet. He mirrored Seokjin's smile as his Hyung looked down at him, carrying him bridal style while the breeze whispered sweetly around them both.

"Aish, Yoongi you are a pain in my ass, but you're kinda cute so it's okay I guess." His gummy smile widened at the sweet but slightly insulting words. "What are you smiling about you weirdo." Seokjin let out a small laugh.

Yoongi was confused, why was dream Seokjin insulting him? It took him a few seconds to realise that he was actually awake and that he was no longer asleep on the couch, but rather in the arms of his Hyung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let his body go slack against Seokjin's chest, adding a few very realistic soft snores for good measure. Yoongi felt his body fall gently against the cold mattress on his bed, shivering slightly at the loss of heat from Seokjin's warm body. A blanket was dragged up his body, before footsteps retreated out of the room and the door clicking shut quietly.

Yoongi's eyes widened once he was alone in the dark room, had he heard correct? Did Seokjin just call him cute? It took all his self control not to squeal like a teenage girl. He wiggled down the mattress, throwing the blankets over his head and snuggled into his soft pillows. That night Yoongi had the best sleep of his life, with a smile on his face and a hard cock in his pants.

-----

The following weekend Yoongi found himself squished between his friends Jungkook and Hoseok in the back seat of Jimin's tiny Hyundai Pony hatchback. Usher's 'U Remind Me' thumped out of the piss-poor and incredibly outdated sound system, tinny and grating on his ears. His friends, including Taehyung who was sitting in the passenger seat, were singing along at the top of their lungs, he threw his head back and groaned. Why did he get stuck with the loud idiots of their group? Yoongi peered through the windscreen, tall, shapely pine trees lined the dirt road they traveled along. Dust swirled around the car, a curtain of brown blocking the view of the car travelling behind them. The sky was dotted with grey clouds, slowly drifting across the sky hiding the sun, who was trying it's hardest to make an appearance.

The car full of friends pulled into a small gravel parking lot and climbed out of the stuffy vehicle. They watched as the trailing car pulled up beside them, excitedly chatting and joking around now that everyone had finally arrived. Today was Namjoon's choice of activity, one Yoongi was secretly dreading - Hiking. He cast a glance towards Seokjin who was dressed in a pair of black and white track suit pants, sneakers, wide brim bucket hat with drawcord and a fluffy cream jumper. He swallowed hard at the thought of wrapping his arms around Seokjin's waist and resting his head against his fleece covered chest. He looked so snuggly and warm and cute, yeah, really really cute.

Yoongi zoned out while the others planned their trek, his mind too focused on Seokjin's beautiful plush lips, enthralled by how his Hyung randomly pouted while he spoke, his plump bottom lip puffing out before returning back to normal. Yoongi found this habit of Seokjin's incredibly endearing and wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Or at just how crazy it was making Yoongi feel.

"Is everyone okay with the plan?" Namjoon asked, slipping away a map into the front pocket of his jacket. The group all spoke at once, loud and chaotic as usual. "Okay well let's go!"

The group trekked for a few hours, enjoying the challenging course. Up and down steep inclines, weaving through lush forest and snaking between narrow boulders that sat unsteadily on either side of their path. They eventually came across a small stream that separated the gravel path, Yoongi looked down at his feet and whined. "Do we have to go through that? I'm wearing brand new shoes." His nose scrunched as he caught sight of the shallow murky water he knew he would have to trudge through.

"Why would you wear new shoes on a hike Yoongi?" Hoseok laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. Yoongi glared at his friend, tempted to turn around and walk back to the car. Fuck nature.

"Don't worry about it Yoongi-yah, climb on." Seokjin smiled, bending down in front of Yoongi, memories of the previous weekend flooded Yoongi's thoughts. Without hesitation Yoongi climbed onto his back, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. He placed his chin into the crook of Seokjin's shoulder and sighed as herbal scented hair brushed across his nose.

"O-okay then, well errr let's get going then." Namjoon raised his eyebrow, the rest of the group watching quizzically as Seokjin happily carried Yoongi across the stream. They exchanged looks with each other, hushed whispers at what had just transpired, Yoongi knew the others would be talking, getting a piggy back ride was pretty out of character for him, but he was blissfully peaceful at that very moment. So fuck what anyone thought.

-----

Back at their apartment that night the pair settled into their usual routine of cheap ramen, beer and trashy kdramas on the television.

"Hey Hyung, thanks for picking me up today," Yoongi bit nervously into his thumbnail, a habit he struggled to free himself from, "You didn't need to . . Hobi was right though, those shoes cost $300 why did I choose to wear them today?" Yoongi knew exactly why - he was trying to look good for Seokjin. He had dashed out to a Camping and Fishing store after work to purchase an entirely new outfit for the day. He settled on a long sleeved yellow and green flannel shirt, khaki trousers and a blue and black fleece fila jacket. Plus those damn tramping boots that cost as much as his share of the rent.

Seokjin leaned in, inches away from Yoongi's face, breath catching in the back of his throat, heart hammering against his rib cage. "It was my pleasure," Seokjin grabbed Yoongi by the cheeks and pinched, jiggling the flushed skin between his thumb and index finger, "That's what a good Hyung does, helps their cry baby friends out." He laughed, letting go of Yoongi and plopping back down onto his side of the couch. Yoongi's hand shot up to his cheek, fingers brushing along his warm skin. Seokjin's touch felt amazing, electric sparks coursed through his body, Yoongi wanted those hands touching him in places that crossed the line from friends to lovers, those long fingers curling up inside of him brushing against his sweet sensitive spot, wrapped around his cock pumping him until it was too much to handle and he was screaming Seokjin's name while he spilled his release over his Hyungs hand.

Yoongi found it hard to concentrate on the television in front of him, eyes constantly drifting towards his roommate who looked amazing in a pair of grey shorts and loose white T-shirt, his feet curled up underneath him, strong thigh muscles catching Yoongi's attention. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes, Yoongi wasn't sure how much more of Seokjin he could deal with. He was the perfect roommate, but his desire to be fucked by the man was becoming an every minute of the day kinda thing. Maybe Yoongi needed to hurry up and move out. He thought about Seokjin at work, while doing his laundry, on the bus to the grocery store, while putting the rubbish out, when pumping his dildo in and out of his ass, Seokjin was on his mind 24/7.

Yoongi's cock twitched as he watched the couple on television, the male lead carrying the female through a cherry blossom lined park while a terrible ballad wailed in the background. He decided that being carried was his newest kink. Or maybe Seokjin's entire existence was his fetish? He tugged on his hoop earring as his thoughts travelled to a million different scenarios in which Seokjin would need to lift and carry him around. He recalled the previous weekend, waking up while Seokjin carried him to bed, how nice it felt to be held in Seokjin's arms, to hear him call Yoongi cute. He wanted, no he needed that again.

Yoongi glanced out of the corner of his eye, the brunette’s head was down as he browsed at something on his phone, he watered his lips and decided now was the perfect time to enact his master plan. Yoongi closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn, arms stretched high above his head, "Mmmm what's the time?" He asked Seokjin drowsily. "Huh? Oh it's 9:23, are you tired already?" The brunette placed his phone on the coffee table and shifted to face Yoongi. "You're not? We walked a million miles today, of course I'm tired." For theatrics he let out another yawn. Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Guess I've got a better stamina than you."

Over the next half an hour Yoongi let out more fake yawns, complaining about his sore muscles and tired bones - which Seokjin informed him wasn't a real thing and that he was being a whiny old man again. His body sunk into the couch, head lolling against the arm rest as he feigned falling asleep. It would only be a matter of time before he would be whisked away in Seokjin's arms and it was making him giddy, trying his hardest not to crack a smile. Yoongi heard the room fall silent, the television now switched off. His heart was racing, this was it - the big moment - his hands were softly shaking, breath uneven and shallow.

"Hey Yoongi, wake up." A large hand shook his arm attempting to wake him from his faux slumber. His eyebrows furrowed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Seokjin was supposed to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom, whisper a few sweet words in his ear and maybe jerk him off a bit. He opened his eyes and glared at the handsome man standing over him, his plans were ruined and he and his neglected cock were pretty pissed off.

"Why didn't you just carry me Hyung?" Yoongi sulked, crossing his arms against his chest like a defiant toddler.

"W-why would I? You can walk your legs aren't broken."

"Well you've been carrying me around a lot recently so I just thought you'd do it again tonight. Ahhh fuck it whatever." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Aish, Yoongi-yah do you enjoy Seokjinnie lifting you up and carrying you around?" He could no longer hold it in, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Yoongi's cheeks burnt bright red, he was already a small man but he had never felt as small as he did right at this moment. Tears threatened to spill over his long lashes, he knew he was being a little dramatic but his heart was practically ripped out of his chest by his crush. Yoongi bowed his head refusing to look anywhere other than at his hands which were clasped together tightly.

"Wait, shit Yoongi I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry," Seokjin dropped down onto his knees and engulfed Yoongi's hands with his own. "So you do enjoy being carried by me?"

Yoongi sniffed, "Yeah. I like a lot about you Hyung, the carrying thing is one of my favourites though."

An awkward silence filled the room, Yoongi's sniffles the only sound to break the dead air. "Well uh, there is a lot I like about you too," he stroked his thumb against the back of Yoongi's hand softly and slowly. "I like your dry sense of humor, the way you screech when you're excited - that is so adorable. I like how passionate you are about music and I really like how your cheeks turn red whenever we touch each other by accident. I sorta brush up against you on purpose just to see it."

A gasp escaped Yoongi's lips, head snapping up to look into the dark chocolate eyes of his roommate. Seokjin's cheeks puffed wide as he gave Yoongi a sweet smile, his thumb continuing to draw circles over Yoongi's hands which were resting in his lap. "I think you're cute Yoongi-yah, and I'd love to kiss you. If you'd allow me to of course."

Yoongi's eyes darted to Seokjin's plump lips, inviting and glistening. He couldn't hold back any longer, throwing himself forward as he smashed their lips together, hungry and desperate. In the wild rush of lips and tongues exploring new territory their noses bumped together, deep chuckles slipping out between kisses. Yoongi's hands frantically grasped onto Seokjin's hair, pulling him down so their body's were close but it still wasn't enough, he needed to feel naked flesh against his own. Yoongi's long fingers travelled underneath Seokjin's thin cotton T-shirt and brushed against his soft stomach, over his nipples rubbing the hard nubs between his fingers and then back down his chest. He played with the elastic waist of Seokjin's shorts, dipping his hand inside, fingers grazing the wiry mound of pubic hair just above where his hands really wanted to touch, "I-is this okay Hyungie?" Yoongi whimpered, Seokjin's tongue running along the exposed skin of his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin.

"Mmmm yeah, touch Hyung Yoongi." Seokjin bit down gently his teeth scraping the skin. He attached his lips against the smaller man's neck, alternating between sucking on the warm flesh and sly little nibbles, creating deep purple bruises that contrasted beautifully against Yoongi's pale skin. While Seokjin was busy marking his neck, Yoongi pulled his cock out of the shorts and stroked sensually up and down his length, which was growing harder and stiffer in his hand. His hand glided over Seokjin's length at a quickening pace, flicking his wrists and gripping tight around the head before pulling off and pumping again. Yoongi added another hand on Seokjin's shaft and slowly twisted in opposite directions, up then down, left then right. His fingers played with the tip of his cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, stroking playfully over the head.

"Fuck your cock feels amazing Hyung," Yoongi sighed, Seokjin's cock pulsing in his grip, "C-can we fuck?"

Seokjin removed his swollen lips from Yoongi's neck with a 'pop' and took his time licking along the already fucked out man's lips, pressing their soft flesh against each other, gentle kisses that were in in opposition of the acceleration of Yoongi's heart beat. Seokjin sat between Yoongi's legs on the floor, hands roaming over the blonds thighs. When he reached Yoongi's crotch his fingers ghosted over Yoongi's hard cock visible through his sweats, he bucked his hips desperate for Seokjin's touch.

"Hyung's got you Yoongi, just sit back and relax hmmm?" He placed a sloppy wet kiss against the fleece material and helped pull them down to Yoongi's ankles. "Such a pretty cock Yoongi-yah." Seokjin's voice was smooth and sweet. His fingers grazed against Yoongi's balls, eyes flicking back up to watch Yoongi's reaction. He continued to massage his sack, pulling lightly and wiggling the weight in his hand. He rubbed his cheek along the soft skin of Yoongi's balls and then up and down his incredibly hard shaft. Tongue flicking out to leave small licks along the side, down to his balls and then further below to the sweet spot between Yoongi's balls and warm inviting hole.

Yoongi's slit was leaking precum so Seokjin lapped it up, moaning sinfully. A groaned escaped the back of Yoongi's throat when Seokjin took his balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing all over. He took his time enjoying their heat in his mouth. He stroked the blonds length while sucking the pale skin of Yoongi's inner thighs. Seokjin sat back and removed he and Yoongi's bottoms completely, throwing the pants into a small pile in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for Yoongi to stand with him. Their lips crashed against another's once more, Yoongi standing on his tippy toes to match his Hyungs height. A knee slipped between Yoongi's thighs as the two men continued to taste and explore each others mouths.

"Shit, we need lube, uhhh, don't move Yoongi-yah! I'll be back quickly." Seokjin ran towards his bedroom leaving Yoongi standing naked from the waist down in their living room, cock red and hot. He gripped onto the base and squeezed tight, moaning at his own touch. Seokjin returned cock glistening from the lube, bouncing with every step. Yoongi gulped, Seokjin was longer than any cock his ass had taken before but god was he eager to have it inside him.

They kissed passionately while Seokjin fingered Yoongi's hole, stretching him open enough for his cock. Yoongi's mind had turned to mush, absolutely lost in the moment. It was as though Seokjin had flicked a switch in his ass to become a whimpering, whining mess. Seokjin bent his knees and using his right hand guided his cock into Yoongi's tight hole. Once inside he allowed Yoongi to get used to his size while his hands reached out to wrap around Yoongi's small waist. Without warning he lifted Yoongi, a squeak echoing in the silent room. "You are adorable Yoongi-yah, can't wait to hear more noises come from those pretty lips." Yoongi's legs wrapped around Seokjin's waist which readjusted their position, cock now deeper than before, big hands reached down to Yoongi's ass holding him in place as they walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

Yoongi held on tight, gripping onto strong shoulders as he was pushed against the wall with a thud. Seokjin's arms trembled from Yoongi’s weight so he started to pound into his ass before it was too much and he would have to let him go. Yoongi let out tiny pants and whimpers, eyelids half closed, mouth so slack drool was starting to drip from the corners. Seokjin's cock grazed over his prostate, hitting deep and hard with every thrust. "Hyung, hy-hyung ahh ah so good." His hands roamed over Seokjin's back leaving red and pink marks underneath the thin material of his shirt. His cock was trapped between their bodies, friction from their movements driving him insane.

Sweat dripped down Seokjin's face, his arms close to giving out. This was more intense than any workout his personal trainer at the gym had given him. He slammed his cock into Yoongi repeatedly eager to cum inside his ass. Yoongi's whimpers in his ear pushed Seokjin to his peak and exploded his white hot cum into Yoongi's warm hole.

They stood still while Seokjin caught his breath, Yoongi hanging onto his neck for dear life, almost as though the floor was lava. "Hyungie make me come, pleaseeeee I'm so close." Yoongi whined, nipping at Seokjin's lips then pouting against the plush flesh. He would rather be dead than admit it, but Seokjin was right - he was a bit of a drama queen. "I'll have to put you down though, I think my arms are about to fall off." Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi detached his legs from around the brunette's waist and placed them on the floor.

Seokjin reached down and gripped tight onto Yoongi's aching cock, moving his hand in a steady rhythm. Their foreheads touched, breathing in each others air, hushed pants and whimpers shared between the pair as they kiss messily, lips grazing chins and teeth clinking. Yoongi bucked into Seokjin's grip, incredibly close to his high. Seokjin's cum escaping slowly out of his hole and running down his creamy white thighs and the hand around his cock pushed Yoongi to his release, "Ah-ah Hyung don't stop, ahh I'm going to come, shit ahh." His body tensed as he came harder than ever before, Seokjin barely moving his hand as his cock throbbed and pulsated.

"Hyung, you have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen." Yoongi sighed, wrapping his hands around Seokjin's neck, fingers crawling their way up to thread through short dark hair. "I've wanted to do that since the day I moved in," Seokjin whispered in reply, ears turning crimson, "Come on let's get cleaned up and then cuddle."

-----

The pair made their way into Seokjin's bed, snuggled between a mess of cushions and soft toys, their limbs a tangled mess as impatient hands explored naked skin. They laughed as revelations of their feelings for each other were finally said out loud, cheeks tight and sore from smiling so hard. "Seokjin-hyung can we do this more often?" Yoongi's eyes avoided the naked man beside him focusing on the window pane instead. "Well I would hope so since I want to make your my boyfriend Yoongi-yah." Fingers caught hold of Yoongi's chin as his face was guided towards Seokjin's, a shy kiss planted on his lips. "Yes Hyung, fuck yes I'll be your boyfriend."

The roommates turned lovers drifted off to sleep that night with satisfied smiles on their faces, excited for what the future would hold for them both.

#Bts smut #bts fanfic #bts one shot #yoongi #seokjin #Yoongi x seokjin #yoonjin #yoonjin smut #bts fanfiction #bangtaninn #ksmutclub #armywriterssupport #bts fic #yoongi fic #jin fic #jin bts #suga

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it.

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing.

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks.

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.”

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!”

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

#my writing #aspecarchives #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #asexual jonathan sims #cw drinking #gratuitous use of hamlet #the gay agenda

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the-sound-of-her-wings · 3 years

Text

I Am Not Starfire, And That's Okay

I recently read I Am Not Starfire and I had lots of thoughts, which are under the cut. It is spoiler-heavy and an analysis of the main character, who I find to be a charming, flawed, and incredibly human character.

Mandy is a fascinating character and a great look at a teenage girl who feels ostracized by the people around her and who feels disconnected from her parent. Mandy is by no means flawless, and that's what makes her very interesting. It also makes her relatable.

Mandy starts by talking about how she's noticeably different from her mom, being the "Anti-Starfire". She's a regular kid, can't fly, and doesn't own a swimsuit, while her mom is a superhero, can fly, and always wears bikinis.

On page 11 she mentions "her mom hasn't liked how I looked since I was twelve. She wears less than a yard of fabric every day, yet somehow, I'm the one who's dressing weird". While I understand people who call this slut-shaming, and I'm inclined to agree, but I think it's a little more nuanced than that. The next page reads, "My friend Lincoln convinced me this is the cultural divide that happens between family generations born in different countries or universes. His parents were born in Vietnam." This tells me that the authors intended to point out the difference in dress more as another difference between Starfire and Mandy, and less as a reason to blatantly slut-shame Starfire. I think there's absolutely a conversation to be had about why the authors decided to use this language instead of conveying the point differently. I also think it speaks to how Starfire has more or less been sexualized from inception, and how people look down upon her character because of that. In the context of this book, though, it's one of Mandy's character flaws that I think fits her both as a character and reflects what I've seen from actual teenage girls. Our society coaches us to view women who dress a certain way as less than women who don't and unlearning that takes time and effort. I don't think this comment about her mom should have been put in there by the authors, but I do think it fits in with the values American society in particular teaches about women.

Page 15, 16, and 17 all point to a far more complicated state of existence than Mandy points out within the first few pages. For one thing, Mandy has to deal with people who love her mother and only want to use her to get information about her mom and the other teen titans. This is shown by the "Titan groupies" who ask her to tell Starfire what they say about her. Another thing she has to deal with is the expectation to be a superhero and have powers like her mom, and the questions about who her dad might be. She gains her first real friend, Lincoln, because he tells the people asking about her parentage that they are assholes.

It is revealed that Mandy has a crush on Claire after she gets assigned a group project with her. Mandy is in denial over the crush. She thinks about the fact she's meeting Mandy at the end of the day throughout the rest of the school day, causing her to explode something in Chemistry Class. I find this to be highly relatable and gives her character a softer side to the edginess she desperately tries to portray herself as.

While talking about the project with Claire, it is revealed that Mandy ran out of her SATs and didn't complete them. While Mandy tries to paint this as a cool badass moment, the way the comic artist portrays the scene makes me think Mandy had an anxiety attack. Mandy didn't run out of her SAT because she's some kind of alternative badass who doesn't need to take them. Mandy ran out because she got overwhelmed by the sounds of people chewing and the pressure of the test. While she frames it differently, it's clear to me that Mandy is avoiding taking the SAT again because she doesn't want that to happen again.

When Claire invites her to hang out with her friends, Mandy gets treated like she isn't there, or as some kind of unwanted outsider. The topics they discuss seem to be specifically made to make Mandy uncomfortable, like mentioning how stretchy jeans are only made for fat people, and asking if aliens don't go to college. Jaded by this, Mandy makes up that aliens actually have to go through this huge blood right and battle to the death, but tells Claire's two friends she was joking before leaving. This tells me that Mandy deflects her pain by using humor to cope and has no issue clowning on people who are trying to belittle her for being an alien.

Starfire tries to bring up going to college after this, and Mandy just flees to her room. She hasn't told her mom she didn't take the SAT yet or that she isn't going to college. She feels distant from her mom, which is explained further through a montage of birthdays where she never got her powers. Her mom expects a lot from her, and Mandy thinks Starfire is disappointed about her lack of powers.

Later, Mandy invites Claire over to her house to complete the project they are working on. The Titans are still there when Claire arrives, but she seems to ignore them, as they leave shortly after. Mandy and Claire bond as they continue the project. Mandy reveals to the reader that she's never had a girlfriend, except for one time at sleep-away camp where she kind of dated a girl for four weeks. She didn't tell her who her mom was because she was tired of living in the shadow of a superhero. But the relationship ended because Mandy had lied about who her mom was, and the girl she was dating didn't understand why she would lie. I think this really shows just how much Mandy actually wants to be a normal girl like everyone else, to the extent that she'd lie about who her mom was. Her edgy demeanor at school and around town where her mom is known to be her mom is a defense mechanism to having lived under the shadow of a superhero her entire life.

When it's revealed that Claire took a photo with the Titans at Mandy's house, Mandy is understandable heartbroken, and furious. She thought she had been making a real connection with Claire, but this photo makes her think she's been used, again. Claire seems genuinely baffled by Mandy's reaction to this, thinking little of it. But to Mandy, it is a breach of trust from someone she thought cared about her. I think her angry reaction to Claire makes sense because of this, even if it might have been disproportionate to the offense.

On top of this, Starfire has discovered that Mandy walked out of the SAT and doesn't plan to go to college. After a heated conversation, she runs away, but her mom finds her. And then Blackfire finds her. Turns out the fake story she told Claire's friends earlier in the story was actually true, even though Mandy didn't know it.

Since Claire actually cares about Mandy, she tracks down Lincoln who explains to her why Mandy reacted badly, and that she should probably apologize for taking the photo. Claire also admits that one of the friends from earlier, Deb, actually dared her to take the photo. Claire is a good person at heart, but this action shows that she can still be influenced to do something that would hurt another person. And while she might not have known it would hurt Mandy, Deb probably did.

Starfire and Blackfire fight since Mandy has no powers, but Starfire gets injured causing Mandy to realize just how much she loves and cares about her mom, even though they don't see eye to eye on most things. This finally unlocks her powers, as she's let go of most of the resentment she's held against her mom. She even gets asked for an autograph by someone in the audience after the battle.

The story ends with Mandy training her powers, studying for the SAT, and reconciling with Claire, sharing a kiss, and becoming girlfriends.

I've seen a lot of discourse that frames Mandy as being "not like other girls". I don't believe this framing actually fits Mandy very well. The only girl Mandy ever says she is not like explicitly is her mom. She is the only woman she compares herself too, and the only person who she seems to have a lot of resentment for, aside from people who use her to get to Starfire. Additionally, Mandy falls for someone who is what a stereotypical, normal popular girl is often portrayed as. She's preppy, wears makeup, gets good grades, has friends, and runs a fairly popular Instagram account. If Mandy was extremely into the "Not like other girls" rhetoric, she would've made fun of Claire for all those things. Instead, she admires her for them. Mandy is fat, has acne/freckles, dresses goth, and wears a nose ring. If this is the reason people are identifying her as a "Not like other girls" girl, then they don't understand that trope. Simply dressing differently from your peers, being fat, and hating your mom does not make her the "not like other girls" trope. It actually makes her like other, real-life girls who dress and act similarly, because that's who they are, not because they somehow think they are better than other women.

I'd also make the argument that, fundamentally, Mandy IS different from other girls on the account of having a superhero mother and potentially a superhero father. Her life is completely altered by Starfire's existence as her mom and is likely only relatable to the children of other superheroes and celebrities. She is not like other girls because of her mom, and that still doesn't make her someone who falls in line with the conception of being "not like other girls".

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and hope others do too. I read Mandy as a flawed character who was trying to figure out how to exist outside the Shadow of her mom- and eventually succeeds, by learning to embrace her mom. I would've preferred if Mandy had a slightly darker skin tone, as her features seem black-coded to me and Starfire is also often black-coded. Otherwise, I do think this was one of the best DC Graphic Novels for Young Adults I've read, alongside Teen Titans: Beast Boy and Teen Titans: Raven.

#i am not starfire #mandy koriand'r #mandy anders #i am not starfire spoilers #starfire

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somehow-progressing · 3 years

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WTNV 182 / 132 Connection

So this isn't the first time Cecil's mother and trees have been connected.

In 132, exactly fifty episodes previously, her bedtime story was about a boy who turned into a tree.

I reviewed this episode to look for connections and..

Oh, boy.

So, first off, the boy's interest in science obviously reminded me of Carlos, right? But then the similarities stop there.

And start leading towards Cecil.

(The rest under the cut)

We now know that there was a time where Cecil's father was in the picture, although it may have been when Cecil was very, very young. The family dynamic in 132's story matches his exactly: a mother, a father, a sister, the youngest son.

My first thought was, "Well, this can't be a parallel to Cecil's family. They're far too loving, which doesn't match up with what we know of Cecil's mother at all." But then I looked closer.

The boy's parents are verbally insistent that they love him, to the point where it comes off as "I'm your parent so I have to love you, it's my job to do everything for you." Putting pressure, and a sense of guilt, on the child while never actually living up to their word.

"He knew he would never need his father to give his life for him. He just wanted his father to show concern for his health. He knew he would never need his mother to give away all of her belongings for him. He just wanted his mother to show interest in his curiosity." - 132, Bedtime Story

His parent's love is very idealistic, while not being one that they actually show or.. Possibly, feel. They don't show concern for his health, or value his interests. He's their son, but he's not anything more.

"My mom seems really proud of me too! She hid from me for three days! Like, the longest ever! And she’s covered all the mirrors in my house. I’m not sure why, but I think it must be because of pride. Being proud does all sorts of things… to a… um… to a person." - 33, Cassettes

Cecil's own experiences parallel this. He interprets her love through ideals, to fill the void of it in actuality. When you're a child, you think that a parent is supposed to be loving. They're supposed to care. When they don't, or they leave you alone in your house, or they ignore you, or they tell you not to cry after you've been injured because "you don't even exist," your brain doesn't know how to process it. Like he did with his memory loss in 182, Cecil tries to rationalize it. Mother abandoned me because she's proud, because she cares about me- because she's my mother and she has to.

The boy's relationship with his sister parallels Cecil's as well.

"His sister would tell him, “I hate you, brother.” But their parents would instruct her to be nice and so she would say sarcastically, “I love you, brother. I would climb the tallest mountain for you." - 132, Bedtime Story

"He knew his sister really loved him. He knew he would never need his sister to climb a mountain for him. He just wanted his sister to believe him that mountains were real." - 132, Bedtime Story

As mentioned in Ghost Stories, Cecil has had a very difficult relationship with his sister.

"See, my mother disappeared when I was only 14. Abby had just started school, but she had to drop out to return home and raise me, and I thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Our out for a walk. Or just hiding.

But Mom did not come back, not for my entire childhood. And I was petulant and subversive, and Abby was reserved and controlling and she blamed me for having dropped out of school and I blamed her for just… not being Mom.

But in our adulthood, my mother did return home, sick and sorry to two children who barely spoke to each other in the morning." - Ghost Stories

Which would match up with the sister's animosity with him.

The difference here is that, out of the entire family, the boy knows that his sister actually loves him. And in Cecil's life, his sister is the only one he has made amends with. No matter how she treated him in the past, they are part of the same family once again. (As of 182, at least.)

Here, a direct parallel to Cecil is established. This boy's life mirrors his own.

Now, here's where it gets interesting.

Just as Cecil enters the tree, the boy is transformed into one

"He spent a lot of time in those next several months watching his family, their grief at his loss. His parents’ happiness at his sister’s education." - 132, Bedtime Story

There has been a lot of theorizing that Cecil's mother may have been covering the mirrors and leaving flowers because she was mourning Cecil, and not just his father.

"What was it your mother said before she left home when you were a teenager? Did she tell you she was an oracle?" - 171, Go to The Mirror?

It's entirely possible that Cecil's mother knew what would happen after she left, or had enough of an idea to subconsciously work it into a bedtime story.

It's possible that this is a glimpse of a timeline where Cecil really didn't survive entering the tree. His parents mourn, and his sister is allowed to pursue the education she wanted. (Which, in all honesty, a pretty cruel burden to place on Cecil's shoulders. It's not his fault that their mother disappeared, leaving Abby to take care of him.)

Next, we watch the boy slowly lose his humanity as his awareness widens outside of himself.

"Time slowed for him, and his knowledge grew so vast and so expansive, human triumphs and pains became only a small sliver of his interest. There were much larger systems to comprehend than humanity." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil is canonically one of the people in Night Vale that time slowed down for. Like Earl, he has been stuck at a certain age for a long, long time.

"He had forgotten what he used to be." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has canonically lost large parts of his past. He no longer remembers them.

"Later that spring, the woman and the man and the child brought a picnic and some games, and the tree was happy, but could not comprehend why. Nor did the tree intend to. The tree was simply happy, and this was a feeling that existed. Years later, the family wore black again and cried. And the tree felt sad, but it did not connect this feeling to any kind of narrative. It was simply sad, and this was a feeling that existed." - 132, Bedtime Story

The boy tree is becoming incredibly distanced from his family. (A woman, man, and child, just like Abby, Steve, and Janice.)

"You know, Cecil and I first met at one of these things. Seems like we should have met earlier than that. I had dated his sister for a while. But Cecil’s busy, he- he serves his community. He really gives himself to his community. Who do you live for, you know? Who do you give yourself to? Those are questions we should all be asking ourselves." - Steve in 100, Toast

Steve confirmed that Cecil was distant from his family and the people around him before Carlos came along, burying himself in his job.

And then an angel cuts down the tree.

"Over a few days, the tree and the fruits and the separated stump died. But the tree retained everything. As its body was planted into boards, as its twigs were ground into mulch, the tree felt the knowledge of each seed it had planted across the valley, each creature it had nourished with its fruits, and each piece of lumber built into a home for generations of humans to come.

The tree felt its branches burned in a fireplace, and it rose up as smoke and dissipated into carbon across the sky, coming down in trillions of molecules to build more soil, more trees, more creatures. The boy could truly learn everything now, cell by cell." - 132, Bedtime Story

Cecil has given himself to his community. This boy, this tree, has been divided and used up as a resource, to serve the community in which he lived. Not to mention the fact that Cassettes Cecil died before becoming the Voice, like this boy/tree was cut down before he could serve/understand his community.

"Cecil, sweet Cecil. Whose life lies directly on the fault lines of this broken reality." - Huntokar in 109, Huntokar

Patching together:

- this quote from Huntokar that gives off the impression of Cecil as the glue keeping the fractures together, and

- the way that Leonard Burton, a deceased Voice, is brought back the moment that Cecil left town, filling the vacant spot, and

- the way that Night Vale fell apart when its citizens rejected their reality, and began to be patched back together along with the narration of their Voice

It all leads to:

The Voice of Night Vale is a significant, needed position.

It’s possible that he holds the fractured town together, in a way, his words reminding the citizens to keep their will and hold onto what is in front of them. (In the case that the cold light is the Smiling God, this gives it a motive. If it takes out Cecil, the town is left vulnerable for it to devour.)

Just like the tree, Cecil is used by his town.

His mother knew that he would become the Voice one day- it was prophesized. That’s the reason he was given the tape recorder, that’s the reason she told this story.

We still don’t know what was in the book in the table.

Then, this very interesting quote from 182:

“I’ve been in this job for a long time. Probably longer than I’ve been alive. I mean: you’ve been alive.”

He says the truth for a moment, then backs up because that doesn’t make sense to him. Coupled the way his mother’s story parallels Cecil’s, with boy becoming the tree, becoming a resource that serves the town and seeing all of it (similar to how Cecil knows what’s happening in the town and what its citizens are thinking without leaving his studio. See: every traffic report and episodes likes A Story About Them.) and Cecil mentioning the odd nature of his job in 182..

I think we’re about to learn exactly what it means to be the Voice.

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citadelspires · 3 years

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P1-Looking at how great your posts on how Anne,Sasha,&Marcy would interact with both the Duck nephews and Team Magic, I thought I may as well do one on them interacting with Owl House kids and add Sprig & Polly in there too to even it out. Who do you think the Calamity trio, Sprig, and Polly would get along with the best individually between Luz, Amity, King, Willow, and Gus? I'd assume Luz with Marcy (both fantasy nerds), Amity with Sasha (both not so good friends and maybe not so good parents)

First off, thank you I'm glad you enjoyed my posts about the duck crew! Secondly, I am so sorry it took so long to get to this ask, given how much I loved doing the stuff with the duck kids and amphibia girls the first two times around, these types of asks are my absolute favorites to get, so I decided to wait till I had the time to really put some thought into it and give it the response it deserves! That being said, lets get to it! (rest of the post under the cut cause wow this is long)

Ok so I do agree that Luz and Marcy would get along splendidly but I am saving Marcy for later because I have plans for her, along with a few factors that lead me to believe there's some interesting fun to be had with another combination. While Marcy and Luz both share the "enamored with another world" aspect, Marcy's approach is to enjoy diving into studies and making herself useful on commanded missions and such. Luz can't study for longer than a few minutes at a time, and while she's always down to help her friends, she's also perfectly content causing chaos in the home of a known criminal. However, there is a character from Amphibia who loves to engage in the daring adventure side of the world of amphibia, diving headfirst into whatever trouble they can find, regardless of how much they do or do not know what they're getting into.

Luz is a perfect match to go on chaotic adventures and have massive amounts of fun with Sprig. Sprig, especially at the start of Amphibia, is always the one dragging Anne along on all kinds of adventures in the wilds of amphibia, and Luz is the driving force behind exploring the boiling isles and finding new adventures and places to see, exciting things to do. Whether Sprig ended up on the boiling isles or Luz ended up in Amphibia, I'm certain one of the pair would immediately ask if there were any cool and potentially dangerous places to explore, and the other would be the first one to take them up on it. Sprig would get the chance to see more of what the people from Anne's world are like, and Luz would get the chance to see a little glimpse of that "PG fantasy adventure" she was looking for in the first place. Overall the two of them would have so much fun together, on that I am certain.

Next up, I will admit there are probably better characters for each of these two to get matched up with, so this is admittedly a bit of the two being leftover, but I do think I can buildup a pretty solid argument for the pairing. Willow and Polly is a strange duo on the surface. Polly is bold, loud, and aggressive. Willow is calm, quiet, and gentle. However I think there's some potential there. I think Willow is a really great person to keep Polly out of trouble, in the hypothetical scenario Polly is let loose on the boiling isles that would be a complete disaster(for the isles, Polly would come out of a fistfight with the entire emperors coven unscathed) unless someone was there to reign her in. At first Polly might be a little reluctant to be looked after by someone who is just another kid in her eyes, but we've seen bits and pieces of Polly where we're reminded that, as aggressive as she can be sometimes, she's still just a kid. She's not immune to love and affection, and I think Willow is just the kindhearted, loving person to help Polly feel a little more okay with not always being the strong brave kid she tries so hard to be. As a little bonus I think it would be pretty great for Polly to think she's got Willow and her softhearted nature all figured out after some time only to be taken completely by surprise by the sudden realization the moment Willow uses her magic that "oh hold up this girl is insanely powerful." To be honest that might be a pretty great experience too for her to see that power comes in many shapes and forms. (A lot of the people who are able to fight in amphibia are more agressive about it than willow is so it would be new for polly). This goes double if Willow meets Polly in Amphibia because I mean have you seen how much foliage is in that world? Dear Lord Willow would be a god.

(it is at this point that I realize how long this post is gonna be, maybe I should go put a cut up there somewhere)

For the third pairing I will now reveal where I decided to send Marcy. I would absolutely love to see interactions between Gus and Marcy. Just imagine it. I would argue that Gus is the most curious and inquisitive owl house kid, as well as the most inclined to actually be constantly studying new things instead of jumping right into them. Gus is a dedicated investigator (perhaps too dedicated) and Marcy can absolutely get behind that. Beyond that I think Gus would lose his mind to find another human in the first place, let alone one who can probably recite all of human history off the top of her head. Meanwhile with Marcy, she would be absolutely fascinated by everything and everyone in the boiling isles, and I can just imagine right now that every time she had a new question she'd pose it to Gus and Gus would be like "I... I don't know. *excitedly* I don't know! Let's go find out!" cue the two of them rushing off to investigate:tm:. Also! More than anything else i want Marcy to help provide suggestions to Gus on how to improve/expand his tunnels under hexside because I NEVER FORGOT THE TUNNELS.

With only two pairs leftover y'all can probably guess who's going with who. Unless you can't that would also be fair. I am kinda throwing a curveball with Sasha's I suppose, but I think it actually works out pretty well. Sasha and King have incredibly similar ideas about just about everything. While I think initially King would try to order Sasha around and it would get on Sasha's nerves severely, once that toned down, the two of them would get along really well. Sasha wouldn't see King as a threat due to his size and overall lack of power, and King would just continue seeing Sasha as a very strong pawn, though not out loud so she doesn't yell at him. I mean, we've seen what King would act like provided he became a teenager and it's honestly pretty in line with how Sasha would take over and be in power. I can absolutely see the two of them conspiring to run the whole isle, whether or not those plans ever actually come to fruition, I think she'd develop a soft spot for him.

And finally, I think there's a lot of untapped potential with Anne and Amity. While Anne is more coming from the past of the person who got pushed around and Amity is more the one who did the pushing, the two of them have more to bond over than it would seem. The core concept at the depths of each of their characters, is a chance for them to finally figure out who they are and what they want to be. With Anne it's been Sasha's presence and her need to be socially connected at all times that drove her to have a messed up view of friendship (friends are there to do stuff for other friends, like an exchange for their love), and the feeling she should just be quiet and let everything happen to/around her. With Amity it's the constant pressure from her parents to let them define her along everything she does and all of her relationships. Both Anne and Amity are in a place where, after spending so much time missing out on the chance to form their own identities and become their own people, they're finally starting to realize they can decide who they are. They're finally going to find themselves, and it's gonna be beautiful.

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n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Forget About Me (Outer Banks OC x The Pogues): Chapter Four

tagging: @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle@cactiem & @kazinejghafa.

(chapter one can be found here, chapter two can be found here, and chapter 3 here)

Part Two: One Year Later

key event: the big move

There’s a lot that can happen in a year, a whole cycle of three hundred and sixty-five days. It was a year full of memories, a year full of recounting the smallest of details to her dad, to the cops, and to herself. Clementine was the last person who saw Kimber as she snuck out the window, getting picked up at the foot of the driveway by Liam Gatwin (who over the last year had become more and more suspicious). Kimber doesn’t come home after that. It takes three days for Lyle Adams to report his oldest daughter is missing. The police thought that was suspicious, but they didn’t know Kimber. She was an adult, technically, not confined to the household, and it wasn’t unlike her to spend a few nights at Gat’s house. The question that everyone wondered was “Why didn’t you report it sooner?” and the simple answer to that was no one thought anything was wrong. Yet…little did they know.

Clementine has had a tough year herself. She stopped sleeping, too wracked with the guilt of knowing there could be so much more she could be doing to help Kimber’s case. She knew all the details and had the timeline she’d written down on the back pages of the notebook that was now kept under her mattress. Clementine’s a lot jumpier now, around both her father and around Gat…around everyone now actually. It was like she crept around every corner waiting for something else to be taken away from her. Sure, she was like that as a kid, always anxious about something, but now she had a reason to be. First she lost her mom, then Kimber disappeared, and now the family was moving out of the only place where Clementine could feel either one of them. She tapes another big cardboard box closed and adds it to the stack in the corner of her empty room. Clementines eyes can’t seem to adjust to the look of her bare, white walls so she walks into the living room to curl up on the couch — the same spot where Kimber would sit and watch reruns on the history channel with her dad.

“Quitting time already?” Lyle asked his youngest daughter with a smirk and a twitch of his mustache. He sits down on the couch with a groan and kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

“I might get back to it later I just hate looking at how empty it is in there” Clementine sighs, “The white walls hurt my eyes.”

Lyle chuckles as he grabs the television remote. “Well, this time next week you’ll have a whole new room to decorate however you want, right?” He flicks on the TV and that’s the end of the conversation.

Of course, Lyle Adams got the job over in the Outer Banks. A few months beforehand he flew out to North Carolina from Florida (something he didn’t like as he was notoriously claustrophobic) for the job interview where the dock owners asked him questions about his past jobs and his family life so of course, he passed with flying colors. He was charismatic, a hard worker, and incredibly experienced. He was able to work under pressure and various kinds of duress (such as having his oldest daughter disappear without a trace in the middle of the day that past June).

“I guess” Clementine answers, not in the mood to feign more enthusiasm than she has been.

Lyle looks over at his daughter and sighs. “Look, Clem, I know things have been hard lately. Beyond hard, actually…” He turns down the volume of the tv and turns towards her. “And that’s why I think it’ll be good for us to get away from here, all right? It’s time for us to get away from all of this hurt so we can heal. We deserve a fresh start, as a family. Me, you, and Gat”

Clementine scoffs at her dad. “He’s not our family, Dad. He never has been.” She stands up and prepares to storm off like a typical angsty teenager.

Lyle rolls his eyes, having always favored Liam Gatwin over most of his other workers on the Caprice. He definitely liked Gat more than any of Kimber’s boyfriends from the past…Sometimes Clementine thought that her dad might actually like Gat more than he really liked either one of them. Sure she knew that her dad loved her sister and herself but there was time where Clementine wasn’t quite sure if he liked them. So when Clementine found out that she was moving, and that Gat was coming with them, she immediately wasn’t a fan of the idea. But she couldn’t tell anyone about that— that would unravel the story she worked so carefully to spin in order to cover for Kimber, even though she disappeared. Lyle may have trusted Gat to be his little helper on the fishing boat, but Clementine didn’t trust him at all. How could she? He was there when Kimber snuck out the window. He hugged her, wiped away her tears, and loaded her up into his truck, never to be seen again. Clementine will always remember that moment, down to the most minuscule details. She made eye contact with Gat that day, she knew that for sure. He nodded at her and she nodded back. What they were agreeing to, however, was still unknown to Clementine and would be for quite some time.

“After all he’s done for us Clementine, he’s family. Whether you like that or not, he’s coming with us. End of discussion.” Lyle grumbles and turns back to the television, cranking up the volume loud enough where he wouldn’t be able to hear any further complaints.

Clementine shakes her head angrily and turns down the hall to go back to her room, but something tells her to stop in front of Kimber’s bedroom door. She raises her fist to knock on the door before she realizes she doesn’t need to do that anymore. Force of habit. Slowly she turns the doorknob and lets herself into her sister’s closed-off room, feeling like some kind of intruder. The bedroom feels like a sort of untouched time capsule, a snapshot moment in time that proved Kimber lived there, even though she was gone now. It still smells like jasmine oil and the faint whisper of burnt out candles that Kimber was always falling asleep with still burning. Most of Kimber’s things are still unpacked, there’s a stack of boxes in the middle of the room from when Lyle tried to get started but got too overwhelmed with the task. Clementine grabs a partially full box and starts tossing things inside.

Kimber’s bedroom was always a treasure trove of Stuff. She had lots of little boxes filled with odds and ends: a jewelry box filled with small silver earrings, an empty cigarette pack that was filled with beads from a necklace she broke but swore she’d get around to fixing sometime soon. She was always keeping secrets and her bedroom was reminiscent of that. Everywhere Clem reached she pulled out some little object that Kimber was hiding. There's a plastic bag taped to the underside of her desk that has two little pressed pills in it. It’s molly, Clementine remembers when her sister bought it and came home with her pupils the size of saucers. She laughs and pockets it for later before heading over to the closet to attempt to fold up the bulk of Kimber’s clothes. Clementine fills up one box and then another, labelling them with one of Kimber’s many graffiti markers and stacking them on top of her still unmade bed.

Clementine’s too focused on packing boxes and emerging herself in her sister’s corner of the universe for a while that she doesn’t realize that her dad has poked his head in the door.

“You’re packing up in here?” Lyle questions, looking startled and out of breath.

Clementine looks up at her dad, holding on to one of her sisters jackets. “Someone had to do it” She shrugs, turning back to the boxes.

Lyle takes his hat off and runs a hand through his greying hair. “I was— I was coming down the hallway and I saw the light on…I” He laughs to mask his disappointment.

Clementine’s face falls as she realizes what her dad was assuming. She quirks her lips, evading eye contact. “Nope…it’s just me”

~~~

The house got packed and then the movers came. Everything was changing now and Clementine had stowed her feelings about the topic deep in the boxes that were filled with the rest of her belongings. She still didn’t really know how to feel about moving twelve hours away. Despite everything though, Clementine couldn’t deny the appeal of road trips. She like the anonymity of rest stops, the ugly florescent lights that gave everything that particular green hue. She liked to wander up and down the aisles of the convenience stores that felt frozen in time, reading the bizarre slogans on the bedazzled t-shirts and trying on cheap pairs of sunglasses Clementine “accidentally” steals. She liked the giant portion sizes and demanded her dad buy her the biggest medium-sized cherry slushy that she’s ever seen. It’s a long trip but it’s not too bad when her dad lets her pick the music. They switch off every couple of hours and Lyle pretends to hate everything Clementine puts on but she still catches him tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel. The two of them spend the night at a cheap motel and Clementine steals all the loose change from her dad’s pants pockets in order to raid the vending machine. She sneaks out of the room and sits on the back of the truck eating her peanut butter M&M’s under the neon red lights of the hotel sign. Sneaking back into the hotel room, Clementine takes of her sneakers and gets under the scratchy sheets, staring at the water-stained ceiling and preparing for another day on the road tomorrow.

“Wake up, kid. We got a long day ahead of us” Lyle whispers as he shakes Clementine awake, knowing full well that she wasn’t much of a morning person.

It’s still dark outside when the two of them leave the hotel, Clementine’s bundled up in one of her dad’s old sweaters and she’s lulled back to sleep by the slow bounce of the truck tires on the open road. She wakes up startled when her dad rolls over a big pothole and she hits her head against the window. “Are we there yet?” Clementine mumbles, squinting through the sun and pulling her hood up far over her head.

Lyle laughs, looking at her from the corner of his eyes, reaching a hand out to pull Clementine’s hoodie over her eyes. “Go back to sleep, Tiny”

~~~

Clementine doesn’t know how long she fell back to sleep for or how long her dad was driving before he shakes her awake again. “We’re almost there, kiddo. Look at this view! This is our new home!” Lyle taps excitedly on the steering wheel as he cruises the truck up the coastline. It’s a vast expanse of blue water, speckled with ships and other various boats. Clementine sits up as she notices a handful of surfers catching the crisp waves, craning her neck to watch them as they drive up the long road.

Then she sees it. The sign, sunbaked and faded, enticing her to believe something she wasn’t really sure about yet: The Outer Banks, Paradise On Earth.

“Welcome home, Clementine” Lyle says, honking the horn to let everyone know that they’d arrived.

Home. Clementine looked around, taking in her new surroundings. She likes the look of the small town, the mom & pop shops that had probably been there for decades, the people who made a point of waving at them as they drove past. But Clementine knew enough about wealth disparity to be able to recognize the difference between the different parts of town, noticing the big plantation houses and the flashy ways they tried to cover up their dark history. She knows damn well that her dad couldn’t afford a house like that so she’s not surprised that they drive a little longer, until the roads turn into dirt and pebbles and the much smaller houses have chipped paint and slanted rooftops. The truck tires crunch under the gravel as Lyle pulls up in front of an empty yellow house with a screened-in mudroom. Clementine opens the door to spring out before her dad can even shift the truck into park. She stands out in front of the house and just looks at it. It definitely had potential but it needed a decent amount of sprucing up. It needed plants and string lights on the patio, an outside umbrella. It needed cheesy yard art, or a welcome home mat in front of the front door. Right now it was just a house, it hadn’t yet become a home but that would happen all in due time.

Clementine turns to her dad, squinting at him over her stolen gas station sunglasses, “It definitely has potential”.

#fic: don't you forget about me #obx oc: clementine adams #obx oc: lyle adams #outer banks fic #outer banks oc #the pogues x oc #the pogues

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the-silentium · 4 years

Text

The Lost Future Pt.1

Masterlist Part 2

Pairing: soulmate!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmates share their wounds. || Along with your brother, you are transported into the 1960's with a bunch of kids you don't know. Turns out they are trying to stop the 2019 apocalypse and you are playing a key part of it.

Words: 4590 words

Warnings: Violence, blood, swears, racism.

A/N: Hi readers! This fic' was too long to be posted in one part, so I divided it in three distinct part. The next part will come out pretty quickly, seeing as it it already written but not proof read yet. Please, let me some comebacks in the comments or send me a request!

Groans erupted from your throat, a clear indication that your peaceful slumber has been disrupted by some unknown pull. Your heavy eyelids fluttered open with difficulty, the need to sleep omnipresent in your system. A bright blue light forced you to squint while tears formed slowly thanks to its harsh brightness. Before your foggy brain could comprehend what was happening, the glow intensified in a blinding flash and the sudden feeling of free-falling gave you nausea.

The fall was brutal, your whole body crashed on the ground like an inanimate puppet. Your hands flew to your face with a pained cry, covering the painful spot that was your nose in an attempt to soothe the suffering nerves. To say that you were confused was an understatement. One moment, you were peacefully asleep and the next you were… where? You removed your hands from your face, a pounding sensation still beating under your skin and shrieked as your eyes landed on a disgustingly big spider weaving its web between two oversized blades of grass. You jumped aside, eager to put distance between yourself and the arachnid, when your eyes met the magnificent blue sky, as clear as ever, with the sun nearing its peak. The warmth of its rays touched delicately your cheeks achieving to bring a smile to your lips. It has been a really long time since you last sunbathed and today would have been a perfect day to do it if it weren’t for the strange situation you just found yourself in.

At the foot of a nearby tree laid a brown-haired boy cursing under his breath. He must have scratched his knee somewhere, looking as he was slouched over himself trying to alleviate the pain as you did moments ago. Your eyes traveled up, analyzing the familiar form. His outfit resembled yours, his tousled hair the same shade as yours… You jumped to your feet in a hurry when his green gaze met yours.

"Roo!" You exclaimed, running toward your twin. The teenager only had a second to prepare himself before his body was tackled to the ground by an incredible force. His yelp made you laugh before he pushed you aside, adding another fall on the list of today's activities. Once he got a good look at you, Andrew’s eyes widen. Some tears formed in his eyes, but before they could escape and run freely down his cheeks, he threw himself at your neck, hugging you with all his might.

"Y/N!" His strangled voice was muffled by your neck. Your arms wrapped around his body, mirroring his grip. "I missed you too, Roo," You whispered in his neck. Finally, you reunited with the only person in the whole world that understood you more than yourself.

Pushing you at arm length, Andrew’s eyes scanned you like an awk. "How is that possible?" He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. "You-" Your laugh made him jump and clearly, he was beginning to think that you came back missing some brain cells. Patting his shoulder, a smirk stretched your lips.

"Don't sound so disappointed." You flicked his forehead, just like you used to do when you were kids and you were teasing him. "I might think that you don't like me."

Andrew groaned and pushed you off. Getting up snickering, you brushed off the dirt on your clothes. You had missed it, this perpetual teasing. You both could bicker and argue all you wanted, but you would always recover in no time, never holding a grudge against the other without having to talk about it.

"What the fuck!" Andrew's yell made you look up. He pulled his clothes forward, examining and patting his body like he never saw it before. "No, no, no… Why am I thirteen again?" His head shot up, his green gaze back on you showing his confusion. "What did you do?"

Taking a step back, you put a hand on your chest. "What did I do?" You replied in a defensive tone. "I didn't do shit! Four minutes ago I was-" Your sentence died as your eyes caught on your surroundings. Old cars you’ve had only seen in movies rolled on the streets, ladies walked by wearing old fashioned dresses of various flashy colors and various patterns, different stores displayed proudly their retro signs for all to see. Were you in one of the small American towns that were stuck in time?

"What the…" You heard your brother mutter in sync with yourself. The thought to pinch yourself passed your mind, after all, you did have some really weird dreams recently with all the stuff that happened in your life. Or maybe you watched too much Supernatural in the last months.

Turning around to try and make sense of the scenery, you noticed high buildings beyond the line of trees. If they were anything to go by, you would say that you ended up in a urban park in some random city. The transportation method was still unknown, but that was something you could figure out later.

Women in colorful dresses walked slowly talking to each other on a stone walkway. Some of them pushed baby carriers around while others looked in the twins direction, a hand flying to their mouth, eyes growing as wide as saucers. Looking down, you felt your heart accelerate. You were wearing a pair of black basketball shorts along with a light grey tank top that said: "If I was a bird, I know who I'd shit on". Clearly, you didn’t have the proper attire for this period of time. Andrew was in the same predicament as yourself, with his basketball shorts and his "I play hockey because punching people for no reason is frowned upon" shirt.

Getting a hold of Andrew's wrist, you started to walk away from the outraged women who seemed to be harshly whispering between them, their manicured fingers pointed at them. Would it have been your own modern age town, you would have assumed entirely your choice of clothing, but here, where you didn’t know jack shit about how the people would react? You kept it in and walked away.

"Hey! You two from the 21st century!" Shocked, you stopped in your tracks and turned to meet a brown-haired boy running in your direction. His school uniform was vaguely familiar, although you couldn’t put your finger on where you knew it from. "You guys got transported too!" The boy finally reached them. He was all smile and his bubbly presence made you relax immediately. You noticed six other kids wearing the same uniform walking after their comrade. It reassure you that the majority of the group seemed as lost as your brother and yourself. Maybe you could stick with them for a while. You noticed that they had an unconscious girl with them. You wondered if her state was caused by a fall or by another unknown reason.

"Transported? What are you talking about?" Andrew stepped closer, positioning himself right beside you. He was three inches taller than you and surpassed the new boy by a good one inch.

Bubbly guy turned around, pointing vaguely at one of his approaching friend. "Five time-traveled us here. In the past! So we could stop the a-," a hand on Bubbly's mouth prevented him from saying more.

Before you had time to question the sanity of Five's parents for choosing such a name or ask how one could time-travel back in time, cold blue eyes glared holes in Bubbly's head while maintaining pressure on his mouth. "Shut it. We already have enough attention on us like that." True to his words, people were watching their little group intently, some of them stopping in their tracks to openly stare at them.

The steady rhythm in your ribcage was quickly disturbed by the harsh blue gaze falling on you. A beat or two were skipped, your body too entranced to remember that this muscle was indeed vital to your survival. "We can't talk here." A smirk stretched his lips when his eyes trailed down to your tank top. For a completely unknown reason your body answered to his apparent approval by creating some butterflies in your belly. Swiftly, he removed his jacket and handed it to you.

Eyebrows furrowed, you stared at him, then the jacket and back at him. "I'm not cold thank you." You said confused. Rolling his eyes, Smug Face kept handing you the piece of clothing. "If you walk around looking like that, you might get arrested. People in this decade aren't that open yet." He clarified in an impatient tone.

You didn’t know much about "this decade", but you can feel that he was definitely right. The people around seemed extremely judgemental and unappreciative of your appearance. Sighing, you uncrossed your arms and took the jacket, making sure to not touch the boy's finger in the process. The last thing you needed was your heart stopping indefinitely because it short-circuited at his contact.

"Fine." The black jacket was surprisingly comfortable and light on your shoulders. The coffee scent that lingered on it was quite enjoyable and you found yourself gripping the slightly too long sleeves. Looking down, it seemed like you were wearing a weird looking black dress. If you kept your legs close to each other, that is. Smug Face looked satisfied of your appearance and nodded. His mouth opened to speak again, only to be cut by another.

"Wait. How do we know we can trust you?" Oh, Andrew. Always there to protect you from any harm. Speaking of which, his right arm found its place on your shoulders while his query gaze was fixed to the unconscious girl in one of the boys’ arms.

At that, Smug Face stared at him, seemingly getting colder. "Really?" He rolled his eyes once again and scoffed, turning around. He took off toward a street, muttering to the others to follow him. Some of his companions followed right behind him after sending them curious and apologetic glances. Bubbly and a girl stayed behind, waiting for the newcomers.

The girl sighed and offered her hand to shake. "I'm Allison. Sorry about Five, he's a bit rude." Bubbly scoffed at that, muttering something about a grouchy old man. "The girl is our sister, Vania. She fell unconscious before we time-traveled. Look, I know you don't have to, but you can trust us." Deep inside you, you knew that they were trustworthy. Anyway, if you were proven to be wrong, all you had to do was use your power and get the hell out of there with Andrew. Smiling, you shook Allison's hand before pointing to your brother.

"That's Andrew, I'm Y/N. And don't worry," You pointed at the nosey people still watching their little group, "between the old-timers and you guys, I choose you guys."

Allison chuckled while Bubbly, who presented himself as Klaus, cheered and led the way to catch up with their siblings.

The walk to a small isolated house took a good 20 minutes. In this time, you talked with the rest of the group, getting to know them a bit.

You learned that the familiarity you found in their uniform was caused by their worldwide superheroes reputation. You remember watching the news one day, 6 of them displaying in front of a crowd, proud faces daring someone or something to come at them and try and beat them. You remember feeling proud of being born on the same day as them. You were all special after all.

However, they weren't as invincible as you once thought in your young innocence. Apparently, they failed in preventing an apocalypse in 2019 and ended up travelling through time to survive, which failed once again because you all were back in your early teen age. The idea of being stuck in the past for your whole life was weird to say the least and you hoped that you would find a way to get back home.

Most importantly though, you learned that Klaus was your favorite out of the group. He was carefree, almost too much sometimes, and was not afraid to be himself. You laughed along with him during a big part of the walk, the both of you mocking the outraged faces of the 1963 grown-ups when they got a good look of Andrew's shirt or Allison's too short skirt for their time.

Luther clearly didn't trust the two addition to their little group. He shot some glances your and Andrew's way from time to time, clearly trying to judge if you were a threat or not. At one point, he asked Allison to walk with him. It may have sound innocent but you knew he wanted to protect her from you. You didn't need a power to find out, his eyes were talkative enough.

Diego was at least approachable. He didn't talk much, but didn't reject you either. He seemed funny on first glance and you hoped that you would have a chance to talk to him more.

Finally, there was Five. For you, he was a total mystery. He didn't turned around once, too concentrated to get to his destination and not once did he answer his siblings when they asked where he was leading them. He totally ignored the people watching him like he had two heads, sometimes glaring at those who were too close to him, but mainly kept his eyes right ahead.

You reached a cute little yellow house with rows of beautiful purple flowers framing the door. Pansies you think they are named. You were sure that there would be a lovely old lady greeting you at the door with a nice smell of cookies floating in the air, but to your disappointment, a musty smell gripped you at the throat instead, along with dust entering your lungs.

You coughed a bit just like everyone who entered before you minus Five. He seemed immune to his environment, still walking like he hadn't reached his destination yet.

"Five, the hell are we doing here?" Diego's voice echoed through the silent rooms. You wandered into the little living room, barely dodging Klaus who just threw himself on the first couch he saw. A cloud of dust erupted of the old cushion, like an explosion suffocating the brunette who quickly got back on his feet. You laughed at his antics when a hand got a hold of your arm and pulled you toward a door.

"Come on Panda. They went this way." Andrew released you when you followed after him. The door lead to a basement, where everyone was gathered around Five.

"Thank you for finally joining us." The sarcasm caught your attention, your eyes travelling to the source only to find his gaze on you, reanimating the flutters in your belly. Damn butterflies, you'll need to find a fly swatter soon. "Now we can concentrate on stopping the apocalypse." You froze. The what now?

"The hell?" "Did you just say a-" both yours and Andrew's voice died in your throat when Five lifted the corner of a carpet, throwing it at your feet and gripped two wood planks. If he hadn't lifted the two planks like he did, you would never have thought that they were movable.

"Holy shit! You have your own batcave?" Klaus jumped before Five in the hole in the ground. Five followed suit, threatening Klaus of mutilation if he touched anything. Luther moved his unconscious sister in his arms and entered the hole. Your curiosity to see what was down there got the best of you, so you did one step toward the hole before you were stopped in your tracks.

"Woa. We can't go down there. We don't know them." Roo's uneasiness was clear. He didn't trusted them and being stuck underground wasn't helping. "No offense," he watched Allison and Diego, who stayed behind waiting for them, "but you guys might be killers for all we know!"

A blur passed in your field of vision, passing under your brother's chin and hitting the wall.

"Don't you fucking dare call us killers. We save people." With each words, Diego got closer to Andrew, growing the tension in the room as he went.

"And you think that they'll trust us when you throw knives at them?" Allison grabbed her sibling's arm and pulled him back, away from Andrew's face.

"They have to if they want to come back from here." Five's voice coming from behind you made you jump. You hasn't seen him exit the hole nor did you hear his steps. "And we don't have time to waste. The clock is ticking." His tone let no place to negotiate. He was losing patience. And fast.

"To stop the apocalypse?" The hope of returning home, to your family and friends was relieving. If you could do something to save them in 2019, you would definitely do everything to make sure that happened.

"Yes and if we want to have a chance to do it, we must start to plan. Now." A sigh on your left made you relax. Andrew finally admitted defeat, allowing you to follow Five who disappeared under the ground again.

You stopped in awe at the underground living room. A bunker. The perfect hideout to plan to stop an apocalypse.

…………………………….

Your brain felt like it was going to explode at any second. After Five had thrown spare clothes to everyone, the Hargreeves had taken an hour or so to explain what happened in 2019 and you were now trying to elaborate a plan against an organisation named the Commission. Sadly, every ideas were quickly rejected by an impatient and highly irritated Five.

Klaus' whines about his empty stomach was getting on the boy's nerves for the last half hour, but you couldn't stop yourself before finally agreeing and proposing to go get some take out. Thinking with an empty stomach was too much to ask for and by the looks of it, Five would never be satisfied by anyone's idea.

Cheers resonated in the room making you chuckles while Five rolled his eyes.

"I'm coming with!" Klaus cheerfully tapped your shoulder and lead the way out of the bunker.

"Me too! You'll need someone to "pay" for the food." Allison chuckled along with you. You shot a questioning glance at your brother, only to be answered with a shake of his head. You knew he would probably use this time to snoop around the bunker and get to know who he was plotting with. Just as you were about to exit the house with your 2 new friends, a blue flash on your right caught your attention.

"I'm coming." Every damn time! The second you hear that damn melodious voice, your heartbeat accelerates! Were you ill? Was your body trying to tell you something? Warn you against him?

"Believe me, old brother dear! We really don't want to know!" Hands moving in the air like a lunatic, Klaus turned on himself to face you, walking backwards. You barely had time to slap a hand on your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at the boy. "You just want coffee, say it." He added on a more serious tone.

"I'm here to make sure that you newbies don't alter the timeline more than it already is." Allison ignored Five's irritated comment and nudged your arm.

"Hey, sorry about Diego earlier. He really takes his vigilante work seriously." You shrugged it off, it wasn't a big deal to you. You were a bit carefree but not careless. You had good instincts and you knew that you could trust your guts telling you that they were good allies.

"It's fine. Sorry for my brother, Roo really crossed a line, calling you killers like that." You paused, trying to find the right words to describe your situation. "He's just really confused. One minute we are relaxing at home and the next we are back in our teenage body in an old american city." You frown, looking at the ground. A delicate hand found your shoulder and squeezed softly.

"I forgot to ask!" You jumped at Klaus' sudden exclamation. "Where are you guys from? I can't place your accent!"

You scratched your neck, an embarrassed smile forming on your face. "Sorry for the accent." A nervous laugh escaped your lips. "My brother and I are French Canadian. We grew up learning French and English, but I'm way more fluent in French as it's my mother tongue." You were not embarrassed of your country in the slightest. You loved Canada, it was just that a certain piercing blue pair of eyes was glued to you ever since you left the house and they started making you nervous.

Klaus gasped before reaching your side to throw an arm around your shoulder and pull your smaller form into his side. "Our polite neighbors! You don't have to worry, your English is impéccable so far!" You giggled, happy to know that your nationality won't be an issue.

"So you were in Canada and you still time-travelled?" Five's sudden question surprised you. During the whole way to the nearest diner, he had remained silent, listening and analysing. His incredulous tone made you perplexed. Was it wrong? You opened the door to the others before answering the question.

"Looks like i-" A fist hit the counter in front of you, making you jump. Your heartbeat accelerated for a second, the silence in the diner deafening to your ears and rising your nervosity. Every pair of eyes in the room was directed at you, more so at Allison. You perceived her anxiety and immediately, your hand found hers in a weak attempt to appease her. The way her fingers tightly interlaced with yours despite her keeping a strong exterior alerted you that she was shrinking inside.

The looks on the patrons faces made you sick. You recognized those looks. Disgust. Anger. Superiority. For a moment, you had forgotten that a lot of people in these years hated the people of color and that they suffered great injustices.

The clerk behind the counter with his haughty air, pointed a sign behind him. The sight made you gnash. Whites only. Oh how you wanted to show him how colourful he could get if you hit him hard enough. You opened your mouth at the same moment as Klaus, but the both of you were interrupted by none other than Five.

"We're leaving." Your eyes went wide, quickly turning to him to yell at him instead, but were cut off by his hand pulling you out harshly along with Allison. The second you were outside, you pulled your hand back as hard as you could, nearly elbowing Klaus in the stomach when Five let you go.

"Why are you letting them win?" You spat. Some patrons were still eyeing you through the front window, contentment dripping from their features. You nearly decided to get back inside and speak your mind.

"There's nothing we can do about that. Drop it." Your blood was still boiling in your veins. You wanted justice. You wanted to punch the clerk's and patron's smug faces until their thick skull understood that people of color or not, everyone had the same rights. You were all humans. You were all sentient beings.

"It's fine. Let's go." Allison's weak smile didn't even reached her eyes. As much as you hated to, you dropped it nevertheless. Pushing the matter wouldn't do anyone any good so you followed Five towards another diner, your morale at its lowest. He and Klaus went inside to get the food while you waited with Allison outside. You two settled on a bench near the diner so the boys would find you easily and started softly passing rocks at each other with your feet.

"You must miss them." You frowned at the affirmation.

"Who?"

"Your soulmate and your family." Her sad eyes met yours. It was at this moment that you realised that she looked utterly tired. It pulled at your heart to see her in this state.

"I never met my soulmate. But I do miss my family a lot." You recalled your mom who stroked your hair when your weren't feeling good, your dad who would always figure out a way to cheer you up and your dog who would always be a sunshine and sleep over your covers to keep you warm whenever you felt cold. Lowering your head because of the tears forming in your eyes, you blinked several times to subtly kept them at bay. Years of hiding your tears caused you to improve your own technique and become an expert.

"You'll meet him, one day." You slowly nod your head, keeping your gaze low. "You say "never" like it was definitive, but when we get back in 2019, there's still a chance that you'll find him." She pat your shoulder, smiling softly. You returned her smile. You were about to ask about her own soulmate when something shiny caught your eyes. The sun reflected off a metallic surface, which you quickly attributed to a knife.

Before you could register what happened, your brain forced your hand to move and grab the knife in a strong grip. The pain was excruciating. The feeling of a thousand paper cuts all happening at once, cutting through your flesh and leaving a burning feeling in your palms and fingers made you grunt. As much as you wanted to drop the knife, you couldn't. Because if you were to release your grip on the weapon, the moron who tried to stab your friend would get what he wanted.

Only when he pulled back on the knife, cutting deeper into your flesh, did you screamed and fell on your knees. You heard your name but you were too focussed trying to keep the pain at bay, squeezing your wrist in vain. The burning intensified, along with your heartbeat resonating into your hand. A soft touch on your back brought you back to reality. The moron had apparently took out, leaving you with Allison, Klaus and a disheveled Five.

"Wait, you're cut too?"

You couldn't concentrate. Your head along with your hand were pounding, blood pooling between your fingers and tainting your newly acquired old pants. For a moment, all you could see was the deep red of your blood, slowly oozing from the deep gashes in your palm and phalanges. It was mesmerizing and terrifying. You haven't been hurt to the point of bleeding in… years? It wasn't something you missed in the slightest.

Then your world became blue. The most beautiful and calming shade of blue you've ever seen. It happened in a flash and suddenly you were back in the bunker under the yellow house. No more calming blue, no more street, no more cars. No more bubble.

"What the hell happened!?" Andrew's body filled your vision while his beaming voice filled your ears.

"Stop screaming. That's unnecessary." You were certain that if Five hadn't knelt on your side and showed you his hand, Andrew would have definitely jumped at his throat and strangled him. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blood on his hand. Both your cuts were 100% identical. "That explain why you got teleported from Canada." The tiniest of smile graced his features. "Hey soulmate."

You didn't know how you two being soulmates allowed you to time-travel, but you knew two things: you were screwed and the butterflies will keep dancing in your stomach for the rest of your life.

Part 2

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #my fic #the umbrella academy #tua s1 #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #soulmate

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refriedweeb · 4 years

Text

LET ME SANCTIFY YOUR BODY (SHINSOU + PLUS SIZED READER 18+)

A/N: refriedweeb here my little chickadees. Here’s another plus size reader one for all my beautiful thick babes out there. I’ve started hardcore sipping over everyone’s fave emo boy (who I always thought would prefer a thicker girl bc it just screams at you he would be) not responsible for any emotional trauma caused. ALSO, I used the same quirk from the Hawks’ series I have going on don’t judge me it’s honestly my favorite quirk I’ve thought up (and totally not bc I'm self-inserting) also if anyone draws y/n/me/yourself in this hero costume y/n chooses I'd die bc I think it’s so incredible

Prompt: Your hero agency has been pressuring you into a more scant, sexually appealing hero costume. Though you’re a hero, you’re still coming to accept your body and feel that the new costume they’ve put you in is anything but. Your boyfriend has other thoughts.

Tags/Warnings: body worship, oral, sex, spanking, shinsou being an absolute god

Word Count: 6,009

You stared at yourself in the reflection of the mirror in your bedroom. It’d been a long, exhausting past couple of weeks between you and the hero agency you worked for. They were insistent on changing up your hero costume, eager to add some sex appeal and tighter material around the assets that made you such a ‘feast’ as they called it. You were fuller figured, plump in spots that other female heroes weren’t. Your curves had caught the eye of the media surrounding the hero discourse, and you’d become something of a source of body positivity for the public. It wasn’t about your health, rather, but that strength and power came at any size, and a hero didn’t need to look like the heroes of the past in order to do good and be worthy of everything you had in your life. At first you’d been a little skeptical, sure that the other shoe was going to drop and you were going to be shunned for the tummy you had, the thickness of thighs that made you look ‘more beautiful than Venus being born’ according to one of the magazines that had commented on your body.

However, you hadn’t seen anything wrong with the hero costume you’d been rocking prior to the media’s public obsession with you. It hid the insecurities that you wished to conceal, like that very tummy so many people had started to praise. The dimples in your thighs that showed through in the latex and skin tight material that made up so much of hero costumes. Many designers of said hero costumes had been scrambling to get their designs to your hero agency, practically groveling for you to pick theirs. You’d left that day after your seemingly endless patrol (thankful that nothing out of the ordinary outside of small, petty crimes) had come to an end. But...that didn’t mean the work was over just yet. The agency you worked in had been persistent that you needed to pick a new costume by the end of the week, and it was already Thursday.

Your eyes moved from the mirror to the laid out costumes on the bed. The hero alias you went by was that of Nightmare. Your quirk was an Emitter quirk, and worked in a way that many people had been careful to get within your reach of. Once you activated your quirk, you could raise your target’s worst nightmare into a warped physical reality around them, or at least they perceived it to be a physical reality. What it really was, was a field of false reality with layers so thick it was hard to look through in order to see that it wasn’t real at all. A hallucination of the worst kind. You, much like your boyfriend Shinsou, had been people that your fellow classmates had thought would be best as villains, rather than heroes. People didn’t trust you, didn’t want to get to close to you lest you reach out a hand to their forehead and bring forth their own personal hell.

They wanted to make someone they had once demanded be too dangerous to be a trustworthy hero into a sex symbol. The fleeting thought caused you to snort, your eyes moving back over the costume layout once more. Shinsou hadn't popped around to yours yet, likely still finishing out his own patrol. His opinions might have helped, but you weren’t sure when he’d get to yours and you’d rather get the uncomfortable trial and error of why your body didn’t look right in any of the costumes that had been sent to you over with. That way you could curl up in bed under the sheets and wait for Shinsou’s warm embrace. It’d always managed to make you feel better when you were sure the world hated everything about you. That very reason had been one of the reasons you and Shinsou had bonded so quickly. The world was determined to make you a villain before you’d even had a chance to prove them otherwise. You were each other’s biggest support system, the team cheerleader while you raced to make the world a better place.

What would Nightmare wear? What would the unstoppable, dangerous Nightmare wear? The first costume was definitely not your speed, a deep plum color that was beautiful on its own. Yet, it was cut deep in the back with a half-peplum tiered skirt at the back of your waist. To you, it made you feel like a joke of a circus ring leader, feeling more like an overripe raspberry than a hero worth going toe to toe with. You didn’t have a body like Midnight or Mt. Lady. You were fuller all around, a pooch of a stomach that stuck out more than theirs, thighs that were thicker in muscle and fat then theirs. An ass, that as Shinsou had once said when he was drunk on sake, wouldn’t quit. Once again, you didn’t see anything wrong with the hero costume you had now. It was baggier, yes, allowing you to obscure a body you hadn’t fully come to terms with despite the years of progress you’d made with self-acceptance. Sure, the trench jacket did nothing to show off much of the body you’d worked hard to maintain and love, but it hadn’t been about how good you looked. It’d been about being able to do good and save people from villains. If you’d wanted to be judged for your looks, you would have signed up to be a model. But hero politics were the same politics that existed in every aspect of reality, and you had gotten used to it. It was really only a matter of time that you’d be up next in the line of speculation. The first costume was a hard no, and you peeled yourself out of it already feeling the sinking feeling of defeat as it crawled up into your spine.

The second costume was better in some aspects, worse in others. It was black in color which was much more your speed, with a black mask to match that shielded the top half of your face. Yet, over your bust and over the widest part of your hips ran horizontal white lines, giving the effect of making them appear wider than they were. It wasn’t as if they just ran the front of the costume, either. Traced around your back and your butt, you only felt that sinking feeling grow. You looked wrong, and felt worse. There was no way people actually thought this was going to look good on you, did they? An annoyed sigh passed through your nose, doing one last turn around in the mirror confirmed your thoughts. These people had no idea what would look good on you. The cynical part of you was sure that this was the other shoe dropping. This was some grand joke that you were the punch line of. If you picked any of these costumes you’d be ridiculed for your body just like you’d been when you were a kid. That mere thought sparked tears in your eyes, but you pushed them down. There was one costume left. Though you didn’t have much hope for it.

You were so in your negative thoughts at the moment as you stripped down from the second costume, you hadn’t heard the front door of your place open and close. Nor the sound of shoes being kicked off.

The third costume was by far the most aesthetically pleasing to your tastes. Like Goldilocks and the three bears, it’d been the one you thought would be best. It was a one piece jumpsuit as the rest had been, cut deep in the front and back, low plunges that exposed everything to your naval in the front, and the small curve of your lower back. Though where freshly exposed skin would have been free, black mesh was laid overtop to give the graft appearance. There were winding slits down the long sleeves of the costume, making the mesh look like ropes winding down the length of strong arms and deliciously thick thighs. The mesh at the lower back connected to the beginnings of the mesh at the back of your thighs, lining up with the mesh that curved down from your naval and over your hips to meet up with the front mesh of your thighs. The mesh of the costume was one continuous running line, and you had to admit you liked how it shaped your body. It was tight as the other costumes, and certainly left nothing to the imagination of anyone who’d see you. If you picked this costume, everyone would know what it was you were working with. And that was what they wanted, right? The final costume was by far your favorite, opening and closing the fingerless gloves that had come with it. But were you okay with the world seeing the rest of your body? You didn’t think you were ugly by any means, and hadn’t felt ugly since you were a teenager. But...that didn’t mean the world wouldn’t take that chance to pick you apart if they thought you’d gotten too confident.

You leaned up on your toes, angling to this way and that so you could get a full view of how you’d be seen from all angles. Your hand rolled over the little pooch of your belly, over the curve of your backside into that meshed lower back of the costume. The way your thighs blossomed against the costume, looking strong as hell. In the platformed boots you wore to do hero work, it’d look good. You thought. But was it too risky? Would you look like a joke? Your shoulders sagged in defeat, not sure you had the confidence to pull this off like the world seemed to think you did.

“Well, well...” came that deep drawl of the man you cared so deeply for. You jumped, completely unaware that for the last five minutes you’d been examining yourself in the mirror, that Shinsou had been eyeing you up from his position. Leaned against the frame of the door, hands tucked into his pockets with a shameless look on his face. “These those new hero costumes you were talking about?”

Once you were sure you wouldn’t about faint from the racing of your heart, you nodded. “Yeah, they weren’t that great,” you said and jutted your chin to the ones you’d hung back up on their hangers to be sent back. “Those were the first two options, and they looked...gross on me.” you said, voice dropping as the negative term against yourself left your throat. Shinsou angled a brow upwards question, violet eyes moving over to look at them. He doubted that they looked bad on you, almost disappointed he hadn’t gotten to see your skin slip under that tight material, the way it ran so flush over that body of yours he’d worshipped for so long. For all Shinsou cared, you could be running around in a trash bag and he’d find a way to think you were the most beautiful person in the world. But, one thought he shared in common with you on the first two hero costumes, was that they didn’t speak Nightmare. Your quirk was exceptional, like his in a way. It needed something as equally daring, as enticing as you were.

“I doubt that...” Shinsou strolled over to look at them, running the fabric of the raspberry suit between thumb and forefinger. “But they’re not you. They’re too tame for you.” the comment was innocent enough, but your mouth dried up at it. Sunken eyes moved over to look at you once more in that black suit number, one that he found himself to be a growing fan of. “What about that one?” His expression was hungry as he dragged his gaze up and down your body, over the curves showed off so freely.

Shinsou had never had an issue with your body. Rather, he preferred a partner that was on the thicker side to begin with. He liked being able to feel you in his hands without worry about hurting you too much. Your skin was a comfort to him, the way you were soft and plush drove him up a fucking wall. He might not have been the biggest fan of public affection, but when it was just the two of you he couldn’t keep his greedy hands off you. And how could he? Even in that moment, his fingers twitched with the carnal need to have your flesh under the pads of his fingers.

“It’s definitely the best of the bunch.” You shrugged, hand running down the shape of your belly once more, your mind still stuck on whether or not it was going to get you ridiculed. “I just don’t...I think it’s too much. I don’t think...” you trailed off. “I don’t know if I look good in it.”

The sound of a snort from behind you had you meeting Shinsou’s gaze through the mirror. He wore an incredulous expression as if you’d just claimed that there was no such thing as gravity. He shook his head and approached you slowly. “You’re kidding, right?” Shinsou stood behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head. His body was pressed flush against yours, and you could feel the half-hard length of him pressed against your backside. “You don’t think you look amazing in this, (Y/N)?”

A blush hit your cheeks as his hands rested on your shoulders. “It’s not that, Shi. I just don’t...I guess...I don’t think people will want to see me like this. So...exposed.” Being sexy wasn’t the problem here. It was how others would see you and if they’d take the same thought away that the agency had, that Shinsou had, that some of the media had about you. You could take being ridiculed for your ability to act as an hero, if you messed up on the job or anything like that. Those criticisms pertained to your ability to help and change the world, and nothing to do with your physical appearance. Changing your hero costume would open up that path to criticisms about your appearance that had never been there before.

“Ah...so that’s it.” Without having to say much, Shinsou understood where your mindset was. He sighed, feeling somewhat guilty. Had he not shown you how beautiful you were each time he settled his mouth or his cock between your thighs? Had he not told you how you were the only person who was ever going to have his eye whether you were dolled up in a face full of makeup or drooling while you slept? The last thing he wanted for you to feel about yourself was inadequate because of how much you weighed or what your body looked like. He knew it wasn’t for him to decide, that only you could determine your self-worth, but you were perfect for him. And if he was selfless enough to let the world see you how he saw you, he would in a heartbeat. But just because he wanted the world to see it, didn’t mean he was a fan of sharing. Timidly, you met his indigo gaze through the mirror’s reflection. “Here’s what I think, kitten.”

A chill ran down your spine as his fingers started to ghost over your shoulders. “I think...” He slowed his movements, tracing the seam where mesh met spandex, Shinsou’s eyes narrowed as they followed where his fingers met. They ended at the inner point of the V that formed the front of a potentially new costume. Goosebumps erupted over your skin wherever his fingers trailed, and all you could do was watch in the mirror as his head came to rest on your shoulder, doing the same. “This looks downright sinful...” his fingers moved back up the V of the spandex material, only to pause as his fingers cupped the fullness of your breasts, thumbs whispering over piqued nipples. He hovered there for a moment, tracing circles around them as you shivered against the well defined muscle of his chest. “Not a thing left to the imagination...” Shinsou murmured, taking as his hands swept over the top of your chest to your shoulders, slowly down your arms. The winding tightness between your thighs had started, and he’d only been gentle with you so far. His thumbs moved along your inner forearm, traced circles along the sensitive part of your inner wrist before they flowed back up the length of your arms, returning to your breasts where he pulled and teased once more. “You’re telling me I might have to share this with the public...”

Shinsou’s eyes, a beautiful shade of setting sun, were narrowed as his hands traveled down the mesh material of your stomach once more. His fingers spread as he traced your belly, fingers bent just slightly so you felt the drag of his fingertips through the material of the suit. It was just a prototype, after all. The real work effectiveness of the suit would be put in place if you agreed to have it. At the sensation of his nails scratching along your stomach, your thighs turned inwards, backside pressing in against a growing erection. It only caused Shinsou to smile that smarmy smirk that had caught your attention all those years ago at UA. “You’re telling me everyone’s going to get to see this goddess body I get to claim night after night...” Shinsou continued, pulling the soft pudge of your skin in his hands as he raked them to the side to grip your hips. Those fucking hips. His fingers dug in sharper there, knowing your skin could handle it. So full, so fucking lush. “Hell, kitty, you might just raise the crime rate because everyone wants to see you in this costume...” He released his iron grip on your hips, hands sweeping towards your backside to grab at the bountiful ass you had. How it drove him up a fucking wall to see how it bounced against his hips when he took you from behind. “You have no idea...” Shinsou paused to pull up the legs of his pants before he squatted down to his knees, his hands still on your ass.

“How fucking good you look in this...” You were speechless as he continued to knead at your ass, giving that plump backside of yours a soft slap that sounded through the room. He worshipped your body day in and day out, and had simply no problem letting you know how much he loved every square inch of it. Shinsou let out a low hum. His hands continued their march, coming to cup the lower part of your ass in his hands. He was greedy when it came to this, the best fucking handful and then some any god could have given him. “Your ass looks so fucking good...” he whispered, side of his face nuzzled up against the curve of your thigh. One hand slipped from the grip it has on your backside, slipping between your thighs. An idle thumb swept through your lips, so thick and full that when he ate you out he simply rested his head there. A sharp gasp escaped you, rolling into the touch that ended before it’d even begin. This didn’t go unnoticed by Shinsou, that devilish smile there once more. “And these fucking thighs...” he whispered, his second hand repeated that sinful sweeping motion between your legs, his hands gripping your inner thighs, slowing pulling them apart. All the while, you watched through the mirror, his eyes zeroed in on the puffy mound of your pussy that seemed particularly swollen in that jumpsuit. “These fucking thighs that I love to have wrapped around my head...” Shinsou turned in so his nose was pressed against your left thigh, his teeth soon enough caught the material of the jumpsuit between them and pulled it back from your supple skin. A moment later, a sharp snap hit the air as it slapped back against your skin, causing you to squirm. “You’re telling me the world is gonna know how fucking delicious these thighs are...”

He wasn’t the jealous sort, Shinsou. He knew that you wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t want to be. That you came home to every night because you wanted to. In that sense he was secure in his relationship with you. But he wanted to make it astoundingly clear to you just how beautiful your body was, and how everyone else in the world who had their head screwed on tight enough was going to see it too. He was hungry to devour you in that suit right there, to fuck you and mark you so greedily so that the world would know his mark on you, but this wasn’t about him or his selfish wants. This was about making you feel like the strongest, sexiest, most powerful woman on the entire earth. And based off the heat he was feeling so close to his hands that gripped your thighs, his mission was working. He hummed, digging his fingers into your skin. “I could spend hours on your skin, kitten.” he murmured, his nose inching up the length of your thigh to where it curved, the crease of hip into thigh his goal. “Kissing it all over, tasting all of you...” you squirmed as Shinsou shifted on the ground slightly, so that he knelt in front of you. The sight of him looking up at you, sunken eyes dark with lust, made your waver on your knees. It was next to holy imagery, his legs spread wide, hands gripping your thighs for purchase as if he didn’t, he’d disappear entirely. “You gonna let me taste you, kitten?”

Shinsou didn’t wait for your answer, moving on his own agenda. He leaned forward into that sweet, tantalizing mound of yours. His nose burrowed in, hands moving up to grip your hips as he pulled you in against him. The flat of his tongue slipped over the clothed length of your cunt, warmth radiating against the sweetness of your pussy as he pulled your thighs apart for him. You moaned out his name, the action he took so simple but enough to threaten you over the cliff. Shinsou had only touched you, slow and measured at that, and this was the first he’d put a hand or tongue where you needed him most. The fabric that had been between your legs was in his mouth, Shinsou sucking on the fabric there to get as much of you in his mouth that had already escaped you while he’d been busy touching you. The fabric fell from his mouth when he was done, slapping against your heat and causing you to jolt forward. Your fingers found themselves wound through the thick tendrils of indigo hair, balancing as he smiled up at you with his head tipped to the side. The look was downright bastardly, and you tugged on his hair. “Don’t tease me,” you said, breathless.

“No teasing here, baby...” Shinsou breathed, pausing to blow hot air against your sex. “I want to make my girl feel good,” while he spoke, he stroked his middle and index finger up and down the slit of your cunt, pushing in slightly so the fabric dipped in your glaze. “I want to make you feel good about this fucking body I intend to destroy...” He sounded so bored as he played with your pussy that it only drove you crazier. You knew from the bulge in his pants that he was far from bored, but how nonchalant he could be while he was winding that coil of an orgasm tighter and tighter inside of you could have pushed you over the edge. “I want to take my time getting you there...”

You mewled, rocking against his fingers as they slipped back and forth, agonizingly slow in their rhythm. Shinsou had never been a fan of when you doubted yourself or your abilities, your worth and your beauty. This wasn’t exactly what he would have called a punishment, rather a reminder that there wasn’t a single part of you that he would want to change about you, and that you should have felt the same. He worshipped you, every second of every day. Frankly, in his eyes, there wasn’t enough hours in the day to give thanks to whatever deities were out there that created the fucking perfect version of yourself that was stood over him currently. “Sit on my face, kitten.” he drawled, eyes raking upwards over those delicious curves of your body, the thickness of your skin so plump, until he was looking into your eyes. “Let me taste you.”

With the way he’s looking at you, you know you don’t stand a chance of saying no. “Yes,” you rasped out, Shinsou’s hands soothing you as they smoothed up and down your thighs. You took a step back from him, Shinsou staying where he was, frozen as he watched you pull down the suit.

It was like a work of art, his cock hardening as you pulled the front of it down, exposing your mounds of flesh, nipples piqued and flushed from when he’d been teasing them earlier. As the black material folded over your arms, exposing soft skin he ached to get his hands on. Down over your midsection, exposing the little roll over your belly that had his mouth watering. “You look so fucking beautiful,” his voice had hollowed out, thick with need to have your thighs practically suffocating him. He watched the blush deepen on your cheeks, only serving to make him grow harder. His eyes snapped back as the skintight material rolled over your hips and his cock twitched. The way your skin pushed out, full and so fucking desirable from the spandex material sent him over the edge. And then there it was. That glistening pussy with the softest patch of hair extending up towards your naval, a landing strip you’d called it once. Shinsou couldn’t help himself as he reached up to his mouth and ran his index finger over the swell of his bottom lip. He could see how wet you were already from the teasing he’d put you through, how your glaze seeped onto the thighs you’d pushed together. He was motionless as you slowly rolled the jumpsuit the rest of the way, over the curve of thighs into calves, finally at those fucking ankles he rather enjoyed having up by his face when he drove into you like a man starved for your fluids.

“You look so fucking tasty, kitten.” he whispered, settled onto his back. Not once had his eyes left yours. “Let me have you, please.” The please and desperation in his voice caused you to squeeze your thighs together again, and he moaned. But you indulged him once he’d taken his shirt off, your eyes directly tracing the spattering of indigo chest hair that lead a thin trail to his naval, the patch at his waist thickening as it disappeared below his pants. Slowly, you lowered yourself until you were sat on his chest. The slickness that spread on his chest from your cunt caused Shinsou to moan as his hands wrapped around your thighs once more, spreading you so he was face to face with that precious cunt he called his. “Gonna make you feel real good, baby.” he said and pulled you forward so that your thighs were pressed in against either side of his head. When he spoke next, the breath he exhaled was right against your heat. “The world’s prettiest cunt, all mine...” Shinsou’s chuckle had you fisting your hands. “One thing I won’t share...”

And then he dived in, having dessert before he’d even had dinner. He’d been aching to get his mouth on your cunt since he’d seen that swollen mound of the hero suit you’d tried on. Now that he had it, he was going to ravage you until you were begging him to stop. His nose pressed in against your mouth, hands spreading your legs further as he lapped noisily against your wet pussy. You were so wet for him already, his tongue lapping up those juices only spurred you to drip more. He was always sloppy when he ate you out, simply because Shinsou wanted to have as much of you on him as possible. You tasted like honey, like a lazy Sunday morning, like the feeling of victory. He slurped and suckled, his teeth grazing over your clit as you found the rhythm of his tongue and started rocking against him. Soon enough the sounds that filled your bedroom were the wet, sloppy noises of Shinsou eating you out, and you whispering his name like a prayer as he suckled on your clit with feral need. His face was slick with your silk glaze, running down his chin and onto his neck, the floor underneath him. But frankly, he didn’t give a fuck. Your thighs had done what he’d hoped they would, squeezing and flexing against his head as he played with and teased your clit. Shinsou could hardly breathe, but if this was how he was supposed to go, he certainly didn’t mind.

He’d started to flick and circle, traced his tongue around your bundle of nerves faster, and you started to ride his face harder. It was a chase to your orgasm, and just before you reached that finish line, he stopped. A desperate whine escaped you, writhing in an attempt to get back on his tongue and finish out your eye. Except, Shinsou was hiking one leg over his shoulder so that you were off his chest entirely. You whined once more, your core throbbing at how wet his face was. “You taste like fucking heaven...” he groaned as he wiped his fingers over his face, coating his hand in all your silk. Then, he undid the button of his pants, the zipper. And as you adjusted yourself with legs spread, you saw the brilliant pink tip of his cock, dripping pre-cum as he sprung free. You whimpered, desperate to be full once more and to reach your orgasm. Shinsou eyed you up, taking the wetness of your slick from his face in his hand and pumping himself as he came to rest between your thighs once more.

“I want to cum,” you groaned as you reached out, fingers ghosting through the curls of the violet hair around the base of his cock. Shinsou pried your fingers away, returning it to where it’d been beside your head.

“I’m gonna let you, kitten.” he said, as he continued to coat himself in your silken drip. First, he wanted to take a mental picture of how fucking good you looked on the floor. Hair fanned out around your head, your cheeks flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The rapid rise and fall of your chest, your divine breasts moving with each movement. On your back, you were subject to his mercy. The only plan Shinsou had was to make you cum, to make you realize how fucking incredible you were. “You feel good for me?” he asked as he pulled you close to him by the legs, leaning over so that he could hike them up over his shoulders.

You nodded, any of the previous doubts about your body and how you looked quieted as you watched Shinsou turn his head to the side and nip at your ankle. “You’re so fucking perfect. These fucking legs drive me wild every time, kitten.” You felt Shinsou pressed up against the entrance of your cunt, feeling him leak onto your slip. “I don’t ever want you to feel bad about yourself when you look so good.” He was slow as he pushed into you, feeling the stretch around his cock as you moaned out his name. “Your body is fucking perfect,” he said through gritted teeth as he propped himself up on his forearms, leaned in over you so that violet hair hung over your face. Once he started thrusting, he was slow, hitting deep against your walls.

“This tummy is so fucking beautiful,” he groaned as your walls clamped around him once he picked up pace. “Feels so fuckin-nngh,” he sputtered, your feet locked behind his neck. “So good to rest on.” His pace quickened again, purple shaded eyes dropping to your breasts as they bounced in time with his thrusts. “These fucking breasts,” he grunted. You whimpered as you felt that mounting wave of your high start to climb again. “So fucking hypnotizing to watch while I fuck you,” he hissed, your hands braced against his muscled biceps as his pace started to turn sloppy. Your nails dug in, and Shinsou tossed his head back as he hit the final turn.

When he looked back down at you, there was carnal need in his eyes. “These fucking lips,” he moaned, leaning down to capture your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss that left behind traces of your cunt. “I can’t get enough, kitten...” His tongue ravaged the rows of your teeth, lapped against your tongue as he fought to taste every part of you could. You were at the climax of that wave mounted in your heat, and you moaned his name, the only indicator he needed of to hurry the fuck up. He started to fuck harder into you to the point where bruises were likely to blossom against where his skin slapped against yours. “That’s it, kitten, that’s it.” he cooed, listening to the mewls falling past your lips as you started to spill over, the wet sound of sex filling the room louder than it had been.

Shinsou leaned back just slightly and returned his hand to your clit, the final push you needed as he paid it loving attention. You came undone around his cock and thumb, the shuddering orgasm ripping through you as you cried out his name. Your legs spasmed, squeezing against once more as he followed after you moments later, spilling hot ribbons of cum inside you. He continued to thrust after he’d come, emptying whatever remains he had until he was empty and spent. Breathless, Shinsou flopped against your chest. His head rested against your breast, moving in time with your rapid breaths that mirrored his own. His thumbs traced loving circles over your hips, his cock soft inside you but Shinsou not wanting to leave you aching and empty of him just yet. “That’s my good girl,” he rasped, swallowing heavily.

Your hands raked through the thick wave of indigo hair, gentle as you combed through it. Words and thoughts were out of your functionality for a passage of time, but when you finally remembered how to do both, you asked a simple question. One that you really already knew the answer to, no longer abashed about how it hugged the curves of your body, just another indicator that you were human. After how much attention Shinsou had dedicated to your body, you almost felt silly for having felt insecure to begin with. “The black suit?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the breast opposite the one he was slumped on. Shinsou turned his head slightly so that he could look at you, admire all that you were. And what you were to him was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life making feel that good about herself, about her place in the world. However he had to do that, he would. It was only right because you had supported him through so much and had never asked for anything in return. You were the only person who had ever looked at him like he was normal, like he wasn’t some type of freak. And he’d done the same for you when you’d both attended UA. As far as he was concerned, the only forever he needed was right there, pressed up against his naked body. Shinsou’s grin was lopsided and he nodded. “The black one.”

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cassiopeiassky · 4 years

Text

Black Velvet

Alright everyone, it’s finally here. I’ve been sort of salty about the lack of tall!reader fics for awhile now or maybe it’s just the ubiquitous short, petite, drowning in his sweatshirt descriptions that get under my skin but just couldn’t get a decent amount of inspiration to write one. I have been known to throw in a mention of height randomly in my fics, but my usual workaround to avoid physical descriptions of the reader is to just write Bucky as like six and a half feet tall. Hes a damn super soldier, he should be taller anyway he did not start out as short as Steve. So one day I stumbled across this post by @invisibleanonymousmonsters and for some reason I can’t explain, an idea was finally unlocked in my brain later that same day. (Inspired by a song? Me? No. Never.)

It’s kind of all over the place, so buckle in. It does take a sharp right into smutsville but also ends up flipping a u and landing in flufftown. I don’t know. I just write what the muse tells me to write.

I would like to thank the incomparable @scottish-pepper for her amazing help and support while I wrote the thing - I couldn’t have done it without you, darlin.

Bucky x Tall!Reader

Modern day AU - think of a 40s prewar Bucky if he got a chance to grow up and lived in a small town

Plot: You have a terrible day of epic proportions but a beautiful stranger in a small town helps to make it better.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), smut, mentions of alcohol/drinking/bars, a brief mention of potentially disordered eating, mentions of a thunderstorm, and a very specific shitty family member.

Word count: 12K Yep. Knda got away from me

One last author’s note: This fic includes some ASL dialogue; it is expressed in italics without quotation marks. ASL is an incredibly beautiful and expressive language, and it’s in 3D!! It also has its own grammar structure, rules, nuances, and regional differences, just like any other language, and it can be a challenge to fit it into a two-dimensional space. Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided to write the dialogue with spoken English grammar because my ASL is really rusty and I don’t want to mess it up.

It’s hot. Like 100 degrees in the shade with 95% humidity hot. The trees are wilted, flowers are drooping, and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of hope for a cloud in the sky to interrupt the sun’s torture of earth’s inhabitants. The air is thick and still – there’s no movement at all – yet dangerously unsettled. It’s the kind of weather that if you sneeze, you might cause a tornado in the next county over. Of course your cousin would choose today of all days to get married. And of course her mom pressured her into going black tie, increasing everyone’s suffering tenfold.

“I can’t believe I rented a room for this. I can’t believe I spent $200 on a dress. Why am I even here? What did I expect?” There’s no answer, but of course there wouldn’t be. You’re alone in your car, driving back to a motel that you might not even stay the night in. You’d rented a room because you figured you’d have a few drinks at the reception – you wanted to celebrate the bride, she’s one of your best friends – but at this point you might as well just make the hour drive back home.

About a block from the motel you notice a bar tucked behind a gas station. According to the clock on the dash, it’s only 5:25.

Fuck it. You deserve a goddamn drink after today.

You pull into the parking lot and are surprised by the number of cars, farm trucks, and motorcycles already parked. There’s only one redneck limo, thank God – a pickup truck with a 10 inch lift kit and truck nuts hanging off the hitch, and in your experience driven only by incredibly insecure men – so that’s a good sign, right? It must be a decent place with decent drinks if it’s this busy so early in the evening. Maybe some of your day can be salvaged after all.

The hot, sticky air rushes in as soon as the car door is opened. “Gross,” you mutter; the heat hits even harder after the air conditioning in your car. Glancing over to the passenger seat, you see the hideous shoes your aunt Lydia pressed into your hands upon arriving at the wedding. “You know what, Lydia? Fuck you and fuck your ugly shoes.” You put your heels back on just to spite her.

It’s a small-town watering hole, so of course all eyes are drawn to you when you enter. And they stay on you as you find a seat at the bar – perhaps it’s because you’re a stranger, perhaps it’s because you’re overdressed.

But probably not.

The bartender approaches while drying his hands. He’s got dirty blonde hair in a sloppy undercut, a wide, flat nose, and is wearing a concert tee shirt with the arms cut off to show off his full sleeve of tattoos.

“Do you have blended drinks?” He nods. “Strawberry daiquiri, please.”

“Sure thing.”

You pull out some cash, tipping generously because your drink is a pain in the ass to make, then look around while you wait.

The bar is cool but not cold, not brightly lit but also not uncomfortably dim, is bigger than it looks, and is even busier than the amount of vehicles in the parking lot would lead you to believe. On one side there’s a jukebox next to a small stage with an empty but decently sized dance floor. There are a few high tops, then a gaming area featuring pool tables, dart boards, and a few pinball machines. On the other side of the bar you see a window with someone selling pull tabs, a station set up for calling bingo, a door to what’s probably the kitchen, and a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn. Behind you and scattered generously throughout the building are tables, some with 4 seats and some with 6, and over half of them are occupied.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender places your drink in front of you with a polite smile. “Would you like a menu? The full kitchen is open tonight.”

The thought is nauseating. “Mmmm…maybe later.”

“Too hot to eat?” At your despondent nod, he grimaces and places a tall glass of ice water next to the daiquiri. “Thought as much. I’ll check back in a bit.” You didn’t notice his name tag until now – his name is Clint, and according to the hand illustrations under his name, he’s fluent in ASL.

Unsure if he’s Deaf and fluent in lipreading or if he’s hearing, you both sign and murmur, “Thank you,” before bringing the drink to your lips. It’s on the edge of being burned – just the way you like it. Sipping on the sweet slush is pure bliss, cooling you down from the inside out as it tempers the heat of the rum.

You sign? He doesn’t speak this time. It’s not an uncommon reaction.

Yes. I’m an interpreter.

His eyebrows rise in interest. What made you go into that?

My high school offered it, and I ended up becoming really good friends with the teacher’s daughter, who is Deaf. I made a lot of friends, got involved with the community and immersed in the culture, and I just loved it, so I figured, why not do this for a living? My dreams of being a Triple Crown winning jockey went out the window by the end of 5th grade so…

He laughs, but not unkindly. Yeah, I suppose you are a bit too tall for that. But 5th grade? Damn. His face lights up, Hey, have you heard of PATH, International? They’ve got a campus about half hour north of here. If you like horses, it might be right up your alley.

PATH International, or Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, is an organization very close to your heart. Yes! I volunteer there every Tuesday night.

The look of surprise on Clint’s face is priceless. No shit? I’m there on Thursday nights! You must be the other interpreter the kids are always talking about - they LOVE you! And so do the horses. You know, I was Ace’s favorite till you came along. Now he won’t even look at me unless I bribe him with a treat.

You look again at his name tag, and the name clicks. Wait, you’re Hawkeye! The one that does the archery demos on horseback for the kids’ birthday parties.

He takes a theatrical bow. The one and only.

Clint “Hawkeye” Barton is nothing short of a legend at PATH. Profoundly Deaf yet impossibly accurate with speechreading, he manages to blend both worlds perfectly. He’s also a master archer both off and on horseback, which basically makes him a superhero in the kids’ eyes. There are whispers that he travelled with a circus as a teenager, that he raises horses, and that he moonlights as a vigilante, but nothing has been verified and from what you’ve been told, he will neither confirm nor deny. It’s very likely that there’s at least some truth to the horse raising rumor – Ace is technically his horse, he just loans the chestnut gelding to the program. You’d been dying to meet Clint for a few years now but hadn’t been able to make it work.

It’s so good to finally meet you!

Likewise! I’ve been meaning to swing by on a Tuesday to see who it is that stole my favorite horse’s heart, but I’m usually here. His face lights up, Hey, I’ve got some ideas for a field trip for the older kids and adults but I need to team up with an ASL interpreter since I can’t technically work as a Deaf interpreter on my own off PATH’s campus. You know, rules and shit. You interested?

Absolutely! Just let me know. You dig a pen out of your purse and write your number and email address on a napkin. You know, I’m sorry, but I’m really not sorry about Ace. He stole my heart, what can I say.

He’s a shameless flirt, but I never thought he’d actually prefer someone else over me. But now that I’ve met you, I guess I can’t be too sore about it. He seems to have good taste. He takes the napkin with a grin and folds it up before putting it in his pocket, then looks to his left when a waitress waves for his attention and nods. Duty calls. Let me know if you need anything.

Well, that improved your day considerably.

For a few minutes, anyway.

“That’s an awfully girly drink for a woman like you.” A cloud of stale cigarette smoke with an obnoxious sounding man in the middle of it takes the seat next to yours.

You don’t turn to face him; you don’t even acknowledge him. If that’s his opening line, then you really, really don’t have the patience to interact with him today. This is the guy that owns the jacked-up truck. You can feel it in your bones.

Clint makes a face from behind the drink he’s making, notices your annoyance, and shakes his head. “Dude, she’s got more alcohol in her glass than you and your four buddies combined, so don’t knock her drink of choice. She’s also clearly not interested, and way, way out of your league. Go back to your pull tabs and leave the lady alone.”

You can feel the guy’s eyes on you, but Clint keeps glaring daggers at him and he eventually leaves. You can overhear him tell his buddies, “Thought she’d be an easy lay, but you know what? Even I have standards. How do you fuck someone that tall anyway? I’d need scaffolding!” They laugh, but you continue to hold your head up high. It’s nothing you haven’t heard some version of before. He’s not clever.

Ignore them. They’re lonely, small little men.

I know. Thank you. His protective gesture is touching and completely unexpected. This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often because most people assume you can handle yourself. You can – but it’s nice to not always have to be on the defensive, and today you’re at your limit.

No worries. You look like you had a rough day, I figured you didn’t need Chad making it worse. Clint winks and turns back to his drinks.

Well, he’s not wrong, but the day can only get better from here, right? Right. You nod to yourself then sit back and enjoy your drink. Clint stops by periodically to chat, but otherwise you’re left alone.

Eventually it’s time for a trip to the ladies’ room, and you do your best to ignore the stares and chuckles that inevitably follow you. In your semi-formal black dress you certainly stand out in a bar filled with cut off shorts and tee shirts, but that’s not why they’re staring.

In your black satin and lace, modestly platformed stiletto heels – affectionately known as your ‘fuck me shoes’ – you’re well over six feet tall. Are they uncomfortable? God yes, but they’re also beautiful and totally worth it.

The bathrooms are at the back of the bar, past the dart boards and pool tables. You’re almost there when you hear something ping off one of the pool table lamps and see it ricochet across the aisle and onto the top of the glass and wood cabinets housing the pool cues.

“How – how the hell did you manage that, Rogers?” A man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass heads in your direction. “You were supposed to throw the chalk to me, not your imaginary friend standing thirteen feet behind me.”

“Sorry, Buck,” a blonde joins him, looking appropriately apologetic. “My aim was a little off.”

“Ya think?”

You slow your pace to watch them. The guy with the dark hair is gorgeous – well, they both are, to be fair – but the one…damn. His maroon tee shirt is fitted enough to show off his beefy physique, and his jeans hug his thighs and ass like they were made for him. He throws off an air of cocky confidence with just a hint of danger, lending a genuine feel to his bad boy image. Should you…maybe? No. No, you absolutely should not. You’re not in the right mindset to try to soothe a man’s threatened masculinity just for a bit of company.

He and the blonde reach for the wayward chalk, but it’s just out of their reach. It’s amusing to watch them try to grab for it, but you take pity on them eventually.

Time for your good deed of the week.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Stepping between the two, you reach up and effortlessly pluck the blue cube from its spot before dropping it into the dark-haired man’s hand with a smile. “Here you go.”

Wide blue eyes look up into yours, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even smile. He just stares. Figures.

The blonde looks between you and his companion before clearing his throat. ��Thank you, ma’am.”

The unspoken rejection from the brunette stings. Normally it wouldn’t get to you, but after today? It does. It really does. So you swallow against the burning thickness in your throat and force back the tears with a fake smile. “You’re welcome.” A few more steps and you’re in the ladies’ room, which only serves to make matters worse when you step into an open stall. As you turn around to lock the door, you can see your entire head in the mirror, poking out above the top. A pair of women walk in and they giggle, so you quickly sit down. There’s no point in taking it personally – it actually happens quite a bit in older buildings and you can fully admit that the sight is pretty funny – so you compose yourself and do what you came in to do. You slouch when you stand in order to avoid accidentally looking into one of the neighboring stalls and go to the vanity to wash up.

Even the sink mocks you by making you bend almost in half to reach the water.

A woman with dark hair and bright red lips exits the far-right stall and joins you at the mirror. “Oh wow, your shoes and dress are so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Did you come from the wedding at the ballroom?”

“Mmm hmm.” You glance at her shorts and flowery sleeveless top and swallow your sigh – you feel like a fucking behemoth next to her. “I think maybe I should have stopped by my motel room to change.”

“No, you look really nice!” She smiles up at you, “It’s really not unusual to have people dressed up in here on the weekends, you’re just earlier than we usually see it. I’ll give you a tip, though, in case your feet start to hurt. I know the place looks kinda crusty, but the owners take a lot of pride in it. The floors are clean if you choose to go barefoot.”

Her unexpected kindness surprises you; you’re usually shunned by other women when you’re at a bar because all they see is your height, which they erroneously perceive to be an advantage in attracting men. “Thank you. That’s really good to know.” She turns to leave but you stop her when you notice something wrong with her shirt. “Hey, hon, you’re missing a button.” The poor girl is busty, and she’s likely been flashing an unintentionally generous amount of cleavage for who knows how long.

She looks down and immediately sees the gap in her shirt. “Well, shit. I just bought this shirt. No wonder some of the guys couldn’t look me in the eye. Stupid boobs, always trying to pop out. Why can’t they just make clothes that fit real people?”

“I feel ya,” you mutter as you start digging through your purse. “Hold on, I’ve got something…here, try some of this.”

“Scotch tape?” She looks confused as she takes it.

“Double sided tape.”

Her eyes get wide as she gazes up at you. “You’re a genius. And an angel. An angelic genius!” She takes some and fixes her shirt, smiling brightly. Thank you so much!!”

Despite your incredibly shittastic day, you find yourself warming to her. She’s nice. “You’re welcome! I didn’t want a bunch of creeps leering at you. In a world of Chads, we women really need to stick together.”

“Oh, God, you met Chad?” She grimaces and shakes her head, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire town. He and his friends are not a good representation of the rest of us, I promise. They don’t even live here, they were just permanently banned from the bar in the next town over and now they’re our problem, apparently. But I promise, the rest of the people here are alright.” She sticks out her hand, “I’m Peggy, by the way.”

You shake her calloused hand and give her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. If you feel like some company, just come find me. My friends and I will probably be here for a while, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, I might just do that.” You flash a smile, genuine this time, and go back to your seat at the bar. What the hell, maybe you’ll take her up on her offer after you finish your drink.

A minute passes, maybe two, before someone takes the barstool next to you.

It’s him. The gorgeous brunette.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” You want to roll your eyes at your reply. Smooth. Real smooth.

“My uh, my friends pointed out that I was rude earlier, so I wanted to apologize.”

You turn to him quizzically, giving him your full attention. Is this really the same guy that was playing pool? The sexy one that projected ‘bad ass’? “For what?”

His cheeks grow pink and it throws you off guard. “It’s not nice to stare. My ma taught me better than that – she’d slap me into next week if she saw how I acted. I ain’t usually like that, I’ve just never seen, uh…”

Here it comes. The ‘I’ve never seen such a tall woman’ comment that leaves you feeling like a roadside circus freak show.

“Well, you just got an amazing smile.”

Wait, what? “Huh?”

“I’ve never seen such a pretty smile.” He shrugs and studies the bar top. “Your eyes looked sad, though. I dunno. I guess I was tryin’ to figure you out.” He turns back to you with an almost obnoxiously handsome grin, “My name’s Bucky Barnes. Can I make it up to you? Buy you a drink?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to gauge his intent. He seems genuine enough – he’s either a brilliant actor or you seriously misjudged him, which, in your current cynical mindset, is entirely possible.

You look up to see Clint watching as he dries some glasses. Maybe he has some insight. Is this guy decent? He’s gorgeous but does he have a personality?

Clint snorts, glancing at Bucky then back to you. Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy. He’ll treat you right.

Bucky looks like he’s swallowing a smile when you turn back to him. “Yeah, I guess you can make it up to me.”

“Really?” He seems genuinely happy at the prospect.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Apparently that’s all the invitation he needs to turn on the charm. “So what’s a gorgeous girl like you doin’ in a dump like this?

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head sheepishly, “It’s not. Guess I’m really off my game today. I can usually flirt, I promise.”

A beer and another daiquiri appear on the counter. “Thanks, man,” Bucky nods to Clint. “Hey, you wanna grab a table?” He nods his head to the side of the bar by the jukebox. “It’s quieter there. We can chat and I can show you that I ain’t, in fact, the dumbass I’ve made myself out to be.”

“Yeah, okay.” Why not? Even if you don’t know Clint enough to trust him, the kids that you work with do, and you trust their judgement. So if Clint says that Bucky is decent, you’ll believe him.

***

It ends up being a good choice. Bucky turns out to be more than decent – he’s really nice, funny, respectful, keeps his eyes where they belong, and doesn’t ask if you play basketball.

He asks the basic questions and learns that you live about an hour north of here, that you’re an interpreter, you love to read, write, and draw, and yes, you were at a wedding. Tired of talking about yourself, you take advantage of him pausing to drink his beer and flip the topic.

“So what do you do?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m a mission systems engineer with NASA.”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“A mission systems engineer with NASA. I know, I –“

“Do you have top secret clearance?”

He looks thoroughly confused. “That’s your first question?”

“Do you? Or would you have to kill me if you told me? Have you been to space? Does the government have a plan for if an asteroid comes our way, or would we have to do like the movie Armageddon and wing it with a bunch of oil rig operators?”

Bucky appears to be absolutely delighted at your string of questions. “Well, yes, no, unfortunately no, and I can’t tell you that because has to do with national security.”

“Fascinating.” You sit back, thoroughly intrigued by the man sitting across from you. “What the hell are you doing in a podunk town like this? Shouldn’t you be in Houston? Or D.C.?”

“I live here.” He chuckles at your unimpressed stare. “Yeah, I know it’s a small town – we got a bar, three churches, a motel, a gas station, and a diner that closes by 7 pm every day. Our biggest draw is the ballroom on the lake shore and the hunting grounds in the fall. It ain’t exactly the heart of modern technology. But I grew up here, my family and friends are here, and I stick around to help out on their farm. I fly into Headquarters a few times a year, but otherwise I work remotely.”

“So what do you do?”

“The general gist of it is that I lead a team that designs, develops, and deploys missions.”

“To space?”

“Well, I mean, I work for NASA…”

“What are you working on now?” You can’t help peppering him with questions – this is so fucking cool.

His eyes sparkle. “You got top secret clearance?”

“No.”

“Sorry. Can’t tell you anything,” he shrugs with a smirk.

“I…yeah, I guess I kind of walked right into that. Wow. So you’re really freaking smart.”

“I hope so!”

“Do you like it?”

“Being smart?”

“Your job, dipshit.”

He laughs, freely and openly, and it’s an amazing sound. “I love it.”

You can’t help but stare at him. “Wow. That’s…that’s just really, really fucking incredible.”

Bucky gets quiet. “It is really incredible. Thank you for thinking so.” He looks up, then back down as he starts peeling the label off his empty bottle of beer. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve told about my job that didn’t either tell me I don’t look smart enough to be a mission systems engineer or ask me how much money I make.” He meets your eyes again. “Or both. I get that a lot, too.”

You certainly know how shitty it feels to get those kinds of unsolicited comments based solely on appearance. It’s one thing to have an impression, but to just say those things out loud? “Well, they suck. And they’re truly shallow if they think intelligence has anything to do with how you look. But hey, at least they show their true colors right away so you can save yourself some time.” You lean forward, chin in hand, “Okay, so I know you can’t tell me about your actual projects, but can you tell me about your job? What are your responsibilities? What does a mission systems engineer do?”

Bucky lights up like New York City and spends the next 40 minutes going into detail about what he does, and you hang on every word; it’s impossible not to, really. His enthusiasm for what he does is so evident that even if the topic weren’t interesting, you’d still be entranced. And you thought he was gorgeous before? His animated passion makes him absolutely breathtaking.

You’ve both finished your drinks and, perhaps not so surprisingly, he switches to soda when you do. When unordered appetizers arrive with your new drinks, you both look over to Clint, who just winks and shrugs.

“Well I ain’t gonna complain. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Bucky shoves an entire ham and cheese ball into his mouth, but then has to hasashafahasa because it must have just come out of the fryer. “Ish hot! Rearry hot!”

Bursting into laugher, you slide your ice water to him before cautiously taking a bite of your buffalo wing. Considering how much fun you’ve had in the last hour, it isn’t all that surprising that your appetite has returned. “Me neither.”

The hours fly by as the conversation eventually turns to other topics, and you find yourself talking about things you wouldn’t expect considering you’ve just met. Bucky seems so open and honest that it’s difficult not to reciprocate, and if one doesn’t go into detail about what the other asks, it’s only because there’s so much to cover.

Bucky dips the last bit of pretzel into the beer cheese sauce and pops it into his mouth. “So if you don’t mind me asking, what made those pretty eyes of yours so sad?”

You take a long sip of your Coke Zero as you debate your next move. Deflect or come clean? You surprise yourself when you blurt out, “My aunt, Lydia.”

“Your aunt?”

You squirm a bit at the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, but you keep going. “Yeah. It was her daughter that got married today. Marie and I grew up together – Lydia is my mom’s only sister, so she was the one that took care of me when my mom had to work double shifts, which was a lot. She did the best she could, and she means well, she really does, but she’s just so caught up with appearances. My height is a, uh, a definite sore spot with her.”

“Really? Why? What does it matter?”

“I think it comes down to the appearance thing. Tall women are generally seen as less feminine, even straight up masculine. Lydia is tall, too – not quite as tall as me, but close. She claims that she got her husband through making herself appear daintier. She only wears flats and follows all the newest fad diets to make herself as small as she can because she feels that being a tall woman puts her at a distinct disadvantage.” You shrug, “She was one of the primary examples I grew up with. And to be fair, it’s not like she’s completely wrong. In my experience, guys tend to feel emasculated by me. And it’s not just men that seem to see me through a distorted lens. Even from a young age – I’m talking 4th grade – I’d hear teachers tell my mom that I seemed so much more mature than my peers, that I didn’t need as much support, emotional or academic, as everyone else. I got additional responsibilities and higher expectations. The thing is, I wasn’t more mature. I was just tall, so I looked more mature. Eventually it kind of came true, though. Other than my mom, who was single and working 2 jobs to keep me housed and fed, I didn’t really have anyone that would protect me or support me. I guess no one thought I needed it, so I just got used to doing it myself.”

Bucky shakes his head, and you can’t tell if his expression is one of pity, sadness, anger, or something else.

“But Lydia made everything a hundred times worse than it needed to be. I already knew I was outside the norm, I didn’t need the reminders. But every time I’d hit a growth spurt she would share some nasty comment on it, as if telling me that boys didn’t like tall girls would somehow stop my bones from stretching.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Mmm hmm. Despite my mom’s efforts – and the fact that being tall is actually pretty awesome – Lydia’s words really got under my skin, and even now they undermine my confidence sometimes.” You gesture to yourself and the bar, “Obviously. I should be at my cousin’s wedding right now. I don’t go to many family functions anymore, because of her. It just…it puts my head in a bad place. You know, they say it takes five to seven positive comments to balance out one negative comment? The negative is in everything she says. Everything. I love my family to pieces, but I just can’t handle her.”

“What did she say to you today?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky is getting pissed.

“She met me at the door of the chapel with a pair of her ugly black penny loafers. Said that she told the photographer that I wasn’t allowed in any family pictures unless I was wearing them, because she didn’t want my Amazonian ass towering over everyone else and ruining the aesthetic.”

“Your…your ‘Amazonian ass’?”

“Eh,” you shrug and wave your hand dismissively. “It’s not the first time I’ve been called an Amazon and far from the worst thing people have said. I mean, people say it to be cruel, but Amazons were fearless warriors. I just think of it as being put in the same class as Wonder Woman. The part that hurt was that she was prepared to make sure I wasn’t in the pictures, that she thought she could just erase my existence, simply because I’m too tall for her liking.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “I might be overstepping here, but what a heartless bitch. No one should ever try to erase you, what a fucking idiot.”

“She browbeat Marie into dyeing her hair blonde for the wedding. Marie hates it, but did it for her mom’s approval.” You release a deep sigh, “But that’s Lydia, and that’s why I took my Amazonian ass out of there the second the ceremony was over.”

“Hmmmm.” He gazes at you. “You know she’s a princess, right?

“Huh?”

“Wonder Woman. She’s a princess. You know…Amazon Princess…it actually kinda suits you.”

“Seriously?”

“Damn right I’m serious. You’re tall? So what. You’re fuckin’ royalty. Own it, Princess. Correct ‘em. Make ‘em say it. Amazon Princess.”

“What?”

“Yep. Say it with me. Amazon Princess.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the way he’s pressing the issue. It’s not good enough for him that it doesn’t bother you – he wants it to be seen as a term of empowerment and to let people know that’s how you see it.

The moment is interrupted when a booming voice comes through the sound system. “Alright everybody, it’s ten o’clock!” Someone stands on the stage, holding a mike and looking more than a little tipsy. “You know what that means!”

The bar cheers, “Free jukebox!”

A line forms immediately, and the music starts.

“Wanna dance, Princess?”

“Really? You’re going to call me ‘Princess’ now?”

He shrugs with darkening eyes and a suggestive smirk. “If it’s okay with you.”

If he keeps looking at you the way he’s looking at you right now, he can call you whatever he damn well pleases. But he doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah,” you murmur. His gaze is so intense that you have to look around the bar to break it and gather your thoughts. You happen to see Peggy; she’s standing next to the blonde that had been playing pool with Bucky, so she must know him. She catches your eye, sees who you’re with, and gives a thumbs up with a huge grin. Well, alright then. You grin back and remember what she said. “Let’s dance.”

Bucky stands, stopping when he sees you toeing off your heels. “Woah, what’re you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes?”

He shakes his head, “Princess, you don’t need to do that. I ain’t too fragile to dance with a woman taller than me.”

“I know,” and you do, “But I can’t dance in these. And my feet hurt.”

When you stand, you’re almost eye to eye with Bucky; if he were barefoot as well, you would be.

People are still lined up at the jukebox, selecting their favorites. It’s exactly the mix you would expect from a place like this – classic songs like Brown Eyed Girl, Summer of ’69, and Footloose with more modern tunes sprinkled in – the kind of music that gets everyone up and dancing.

Bucky is a great dance partner, and you’re having an absolute blast. You don’t think about your aunt, the wedding that you’re supposed to be at, or how you are, without a doubt, the tallest woman in the bar. He laughs, showing off the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, obviously enjoying himself, too.

The jukebox switches songs again, and on comes the relentless, even rhythm of Black Velvet. For the first few measures, you just stare at each other. It’s the first song to play that isn’t upbeat, and you don’t know what to do until he makes the first move and pulls you close – close enough to breathe each other in. He stares as Alannah Myles’ smokey voice drifts over the steady bass, then spins you so your back is to him.

If Bucky’s a good dance partner for upbeat music, he’s even better when it’s slow like this, when every move counts. He’s enough to handle you, and more than confident enough to do so.

Bucky stays behind you, mirroring you with his hands resting gently at your waist. Your back is against his chest, but his hips keep their distance. Just to experiment, you press yours back and hear a guttural “fuck” before he intentionally shifts.

Bucky is absolutely nothing that you expected. “You’re a gentleman.”

You can feel the dark chuckle rumbles through him. “I wouldn’t say that, Princess.” He spins you around, pulling you close but not too close, and runs his thumb along your neck. “I just ain’t in the habit of taking what ain’t mine.”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine. Fuck. You like him. One night stands aren’t usually your thing…but that’s not what this feels like. He feels familiar. Safe. You like him, and he sure seems to like you. Your mind is already made up – you’ll take the chance and see what happens. You hardly recognize your own voice when you ask, “Do you want me to be?”

“Thought I was makin’ it obvious. Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate and his eyes don’t leave yours. “Are you offering?”

You move your hand to the back of his neck and lightly scratch, watching with satisfaction as his pupils dilate even more than they were. His lips part when you pull him closer, but he waits for you to close the kiss.

The second you do, his hands slide down to your lower hips before he tightens his grip. He’s not timid; he kisses you as though you’re a well-known lover, deeply and intensely, without bothering with introductions.

Bucky suddenly breaks the kiss, spinning you around again to pull your back against his chest. This time, though, he allows his hips to rock into yours with the rhythm of the music, slow and steady and insatiable. The way he moves makes it impossible not to think about fucking him; hell, you’re practically halfway there already. His hands alternate holding you tightly to his body, maximizing contact, and running up and down your sides. Your head falls back when his mouth finds your neck, and your legs go weak when his teeth nibble that spot beneath your ear.

You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His voice is thick when his lips find your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

You nod, taking his hand to lead him back to the table to collect your things. “I’ve got a room at the motel a block away.”

“Good.”

When you take one last look around, you see Clint, still behind the bar, grinning at you like an absolute idiot. Have fun!

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t completely hide the smile.

You step outside to find that the unbearable heat of the day has eased somewhat now that the sun has set. It’s still warm as the humid air kisses your skin, but with the breeze it’s sultry rather than oppressive.

You and Bucky look up at the same time – the stars are barely visible through the haze of clouds. There’s a thunderstorm rolling in on the western horizon.

Bucky walks you to your car, making sure you’re in safely before getting in his own truck and following you to the motel. He jumps out of his vehicle and pushes you against the car the second you’re out of it, kissing you like it’s been days and not 2 minutes since his lips were last on yours.

He doesn’t stop until the first few raindrops hit your skin. Bucky looks up while you grab your purse and your aunt’s shoes out of the car, gathering them clumsily before locking the door. It takes a minute for you to get your room key out of your purse, but you finally manage.

“Looks like the storm is already here. Gonna be a good one if it got here that fast.” He takes your hand, “Which room are you in?”

“Up the steps, furthest door on the left.”

Bucky leads you to the stairs as you both laugh while trying unsuccessfully to dodge the increasingly fat drops of rain. He doesn’t let go of your hand until you need to unlock the door, and the second you hear the click of the lock, his lips are on yours again. He pushes the door open and guides you through, closing the door behind him with a well-placed kick. You drop your purse and the loafers, then step out of your heels as he toes his shoes off. Still connected at the lips, he doesn’t see the things on the floor and trips over one of your stilettos.

“Oh shit!” His eyes are huge, staring up into yours when he realizes he isn’t going to hit the floor because you’ve caught him by the arm. “Good catch, Princess.” Both of you start laughing as he stands up straight, but the laughter dies out when his mouth find yours again. Hungry hands roam your body while you reach beneath his shirt so your fingers can explore the taut muscles you just know are hiding beneath it. Bucky grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls the shirt off altogether, and you are not disappointed. “You like what you see, huh?”

“Damn right I do.” You’re breathless, pressing your lips against the salty skin of his collarbone.

“You sure know how to use that mouth of yours, don’t ya?” He groans, then reaches down to grab the hem of your dress to lift it over your head before tossing it to the side. “Goddamn, darlin.” Bucky eyeballs you like a starving man at a feast before his mouth is back on yours, then moves his lips to the top of your breasts while he reaches around to unclasp your bra. It joins your discarded dress as he pulls you close, groaning at the feel of your naked breasts pressed against his chest. “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you walkin’ into that bar tonight,” he bites your neck and you can’t stop the light whimper, “but I ain’t gonna complain. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess, I promise.”

You believe him. And you cannot wait.

The two of you somehow manage to take a couple of steps toward the bed. “I’ve wanted to do this since you smiled at me after givin’ me that chalk. Those eyes, that smile, that dress, those fuckin’ sexy shoes.” His hands find your hips, hooking your panties with his thumbs to push them down so you can step out of them. “When we started dancin’ all I could think about was what it would feel like havin’ your legs wrapped around me, I want you so damn bad.”

You unbutton his jeans and fumble with the zipper, then pull his jeans and boxer briefs down at the same time, freeing a fully hard cock that is nothing short of glorious. “Then either figure out how to multitask or stop talking and fuck me already.”

Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

He kicks off his remaining garments before pushing you against the nearest vertical surface – which happens to be the middle of the window, where there’s a strip of metal supporting the two panes of glass. You aren’t sitting on the ledge, just leaning against it to keep your balance. It occurs to you that maybe you should close the curtains, but you’re too far gone to care enough to do anything about it.

“Don’t you worry, Princess. I can do both.” His arm is looped around your waist to hold you steady while your upper back presses against the cold strip of metal. You’ve got one arm hooked around his neck and the other steadying yourself on the edge of the windowsill. Bucky reaches down, takes hold of your thigh and lifts it to his hip. He lets go of your waist just long enough to guide his cock to your entrance – and he can slide right in because you’re so damn wet – and fuck, the way he stretches you is delicious.

“Christ, you’re so damn fuckable,” he moans in your ear, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “So fucking perfect…don’t need a bed or a chair, I can fuck you anywhere I want. I could just bend you over, wouldn’t even need a wall.” Between his thrusts, which are as maddeningly steady and slow as his dancing, the cool metal of the windowpane at your upper back, the flickers of lightening, and the crashes of thunder, it’s almost sensory overload. He’s holding you so tightly that you can’t move your hips much, so you’re completely at his mercy. And he knows it.

Each move he makes is a sin; the angle you’re at all but guarantees he’s stroking your clit with every move. Delirious with the sensations flooding your brain, you can only babble nonsense.

“What’s that, Princess? Use your words, darlin,” Bucky

“So…so good…I, huh…”

He chuckles darkly, “What was that?”

He’s not playing fair but you really don’t mind – his confidence with you is a rarity and is such a fucking turn on. “More.”

“More? You want me to fuck you harder? Is that right?” He waits for your nod before flashing a wicked grin lit by lightning, then adjusts his grip on your thigh. “Anything you want, Princess, you get.”

His thrusts come harder and faster, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Then he shifts his hand on your thigh, changing the support from holding it up to pushing it back, opening you further and allowing him to go even deeper.

Oh, oh fuck…

Your entire body clenches with your orgasm, so tightly you can’t even breathe, and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

Bucky follows you just seconds later with a growl of your name against your neck and a few last ragged movements.

He releases your thigh as he gently pulls out, but he doesn’t take his arm from around your waist. You lift yourself onto the windowsill, pulling him between your legs as you hold each other close and catch your breath while the storm rages outside. He keeps his face buried in your neck as you run your fingers up and down his back, calming you both. The thunder rumbles violently while lightning dances in the sky, but it doesn’t worry you. You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of a storm.

Eventually your legs start to fall asleep, so you begin to move. Bucky notices and hikes both of your thighs up to his hips before guiding your arms up around his neck. “Hold on, Princess.” He reaches down and lifts you, carrying you the 5 feet to the bed. After laying you down, he begins kissing you again, then starts exploring your body. “I love being cradled in your thighs like this, but there’s something else I wanna try,” he whispers as he starts crawling down. “Now I can take my time with you.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s going. “Really? Um, maybe I should shower first?” You’re sweaty from the heat of the day and just had some really incredible sex, so there’s no doubt in your mind that things are less than fresh down there.

“If you want to.” He keeps on his slow descent, kissing everything in his path, “But I’m happy with you just like this. I want you, right now, as you are.”

“But don’t you –“

“No. I don’t.” There’s a challenge in his eyes when he looks up from his destination. “I don’t care.” And then Bucky dives in, devouring your pussy like he’d devoured your mouth. He’s got you writhing in moments, all worries gone. But he’s a goddamn tease now that the initial urgency has been satisfied, bringing you to the edge and then backing off again and again in a beautiful torture.

You can’t do dirty talk to save your life, but you’re about to start begging when he finally looks up, chin glistening before he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “Fucking delicious.” Between the sight of him, his voice, and the sensations you’re feeling, your brain just about short circuits. Then his fingers start to circle your entrance, teasing you, making you want more before he slowly pushes two in and curls them to press against that spot, and fuck it can’t feel any better, but then somehow it does. You pull a pillow over your face but he shifts, reaching up to yank it back off and throw it across the room. “No way, Princess, I wanna hear what I do to you,” he rasps, watching you with hungry eyes and a feral grin. You’re almost there…almost…and then he puts his mouth back on your clit and your universe implodes.

One orgasm blends into another and you allow him to push your limits until you can’t handle it anymore. “Stop,” you gasp, and he does immediately. “I’m – it’s too much. I…wow.” You’re so oversensitive at this point that if he breathes too hard, you might jump out of your skin.

Bucky crawls his way back up to you, dropping kisses on your hot skin as he goes. “You’re incredible, you know that? I love how your body responds to me, I fucking love it.”

He kisses you again, and despite your sensitivity, your hunger for him grows. Sitting up, you pull him with you then push him down to the mattress. “Fuck yes,” he whispers hoarsely when you straddle him and slide down, pausing to glide your pussy along his hardened cock, but then you slide down a little farther before spreading his legs so you can kneel between them.

It’s impossible not to groan aloud when your hands find his thighs; thick, tight, and incredibly well formed, they look like they were sculpted by a generous god. “I might have to ride one of these later.”

“Please –“ Bucky swallows hard and licks his lips as he watches you in the dim, sporadically flickering light, “Please do.”

One hand moves to palm his balls while you part your lips to take him in as far as you can, reveling in his heaviness on your tongue while using your hand to stroke the base of his cock. You give it a bit, waiting until he’s writhing beneath you before you pull off and redirect your attention. His eyes grow wide when your fingers start moving down beneath his balls to his taint, pressing gently to find the very root of his cock which will then lead you to the spot you’re looking for. Pressing firmly when you find it, you begin rubbing tight circles.

“What are you – oh. Oh. Oh, fuck, Princess, oh fuck!”

It’s ridiculously satisfying to see him reduced to the same whimpering, quivering puddle you were not so long ago. You make him come once, twice, three times without ejaculating, just because you can.

Bucky’s got his forearm resting over his eyes as he shakes his head, and you take advantage of his distraction to shift your body into position. “Holy shit.” He’s breathless, shaking, “I did not know I had a spot that could do that. Fuck. I – oh Christ…“

You slide onto his cock, smiling when his hands automatically reach to grip your hips – the biology and technique can be explained later. Leaning over, you kiss him deeply then stretch your arms above him to grip the headboard. Rocking your hips slowly, so slowly, you watch him watch you.

Bucky’s lips form words but nothing comes out except for sighs and soft moans as you become more and more intoxicated by his need for you. His hands wander up and down, touching your breasts, hips, ass, and everything in between until he pulls you down for another kiss. “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are? You feel so good. So fucking good. Wanna make you feel good. As good as you make me feel.” Bucky kisses you again, sloppily, then wraps an arm tightly around you before flipping you both.

Now that you’re on the bottom and he’s back in control, he picks up the pace considerably.

You certainly aren’t about to complain.

His hands are grasping yours, holding them over your head, and your legs are locked around his hips as his thrusts eventually begin to lose their impeccable rhythm.

Now neither of you are in control.

The pleasure has been steadily building, an inevitable tidal wave on the horizon. Maybe it’s his confidence, maybe he’s naturally gifted, maybe it’s that his body seems to fit with yours just right. Whatever it is, this is by far the best sex you’ve ever had, and despite already having multiple orgasms, your appetite for him seems to be insatiable because you’re greedy for the next one.

“Fuck, Princess, it feels so good having those legs wrapped around me,” he pants, “Goddamn, I can – I can feel you’re right there. I ain’t gonna last much longer, come for me, darlin, give it to me now. Oh Christ yes, that’s right, just – just like that.”

Your body obeys, giving him exactly what he wants. The velvet sound of his voice, his incessant dirty talk, the way he smells and tastes – everything about him adds to your pleasure induced stupor. The orgasm is so powerful that everything but Bucky goes black, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this world is the way he chants your name as he comes.

His body continues to cover yours as you wait for your racing pulse to slow. He presses kisses to your neck, cheeks, lips, and eyelids, and finally your forehead before he gently lifts himself off to lay next to you. “C’mere,” he pulls you to him, and when you rest your head on his chest you can hear how fast his heart is still beating.

Thoroughly sated and soothed by the feel of his fingertips on your skin, it’s tempting to give in and fall asleep. But not yet. Not if you want to sleep through the night.

Reluctantly, you rise. Maybe, if you’re really fast, maybe he’ll still be here when you get back. It’s probably not the sane thing to do, but you really, really want him to stay the night.

“Where you going?” Is that trepidation you hear in his voice?

You smile as you take in the sight of him lying in the bed, disheveled and clearly satisfied. “I need to shower. And wash my face – I need to get my makeup off. My eyes are getting itchy.”

“Can I join you?” He laughs at your raised eyebrow, “No, Princess, not like that. I’m gonna need some time to recover.”

“That’s good to know,” you smirk, “I was starting to wonder if you were a god wearing a mortal’s skin.”

Bucky blushes. It’s adorable. “Nah, no god here. Just a man that’s never wanted a woman so bad before. Still do,” he shrugs, “Just too worn out at the moment to do anything about it. You’re somethin’ special, I hope you know that.”

It’s your turn to feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you hold out your hand to help him up.

The shower is tender and sweet, full of soft kisses and softer touches. This man just keeps surprising you.

He’s toweling off his hair when his eyes meet yours in the vanity mirror. “Is it okay if I stay?”

A slow smile spreads across your face – you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I’d like that.” You slip into fresh panties and a tank top, turning to face him fully to admit, “I’d like that a lot.” Bucky beams at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and heads to the bed. You finish up a few minutes later and crawl in, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. There’s nothing to hide behind – no makeup, no cocktail dress, no drink. It’s just you, and this is a state that very few people see you in; no one you’ve ever dated has seen you this vulnerable until months have gone by. Some didn’t see you this way at all. “Don’t look too close. I’m very unglamorous and monochrome without makeup.”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare in yours. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.” His fingers trace your freshly moisturized skin. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Outside, the thunderstorm has exhausted itself. He pulls you close and breathes you in, and you both fall asleep to the sound of gentle rain.

***

When the sun peeks through the gap in the curtains at 6 am, you’re not even mad that you’re awake. The sight of Bucky lying peacefully next to you is something you’re thoroughly enjoying.

“You’re staring.” His voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles lightly into the silence as he opens his eyes. “It’s because I’m decent and gorgeous with a personality, right?”

“What?”

Bucky smirks as he stretches and sits up. “I should probably come clean. The bartender from last night? My parents took him and his sister in after their parents were killed in an accident. Clint and Carrie were lucky to survive – he lost his hearing and six months of memories and she was in the ICU for 3 weeks. He and I have practically been brothers since grade school.”

It takes a minute, but you finally put the pieces together. Oh. Well, shit.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was just really surprised to see you sign so I didn’t look away fast enough. I’m sorry.”

You sit up and slap him lightly on the shoulder. “So, you knew what I asked him?

His smile broadens as he gives you puppy dog eyes. Yes. Please don’t be mad.

You try not to smile back as you think about it but lose the battle and shrug. “I’m not mad. Maybe a little embarrassed, but we’ve known each other for what, 12 hours? It’s not like you can tell me everything about you in that short amount of time.” You give him some serious side eye, “Although you could have mentioned that when I told you what I do for a living.”

He studies your eyes like he’s trying to see into your soul. “I told you a lot, though.”

“You did. We both did.” It surprises you, more than a little, that you aren’t horrified at how open and honest you’ve been with him.

Bucky reaches his hand up to cup your cheek and he pulls you in for a kiss. “Good morning, beautiful.” It seems like he doesn’t want to part, because he rests his forehead against yours.

Somehow your hand finds his neck, and you gently rub your thumb along his jawline. “Good morning, Bucky.”

His stomach grumbles. Loudly. “Wanna grab some breakfast, Princess?”

It makes you a stupid amount of happy that he’s not ready to leave you just yet. “Yeah. I just need a little bit to get ready.”

A half hour later, Bucky opens the passenger side door of his pickup. “Your chariot, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking his offered hand and climbing in. It’s an older truck, one with a bench seat, and it smells of hay, Bucky’s cologne, and sweat. It’s not what you’d expected, but it suits him.

In this tiny little town nothing is open at this hour on a Sunday morning, so Bucky pulls his pickup onto the interstate to head to a fast food restaurant a few miles away. You take the time to look around – the area is really pretty and reminds you of the drive to your grandparents’ house, all farmland and pastures. Of course, you can’t help but stare at the horses whenever you pass them. “Whoa. They must breed Appaloosas.”

Bucky takes a quick glance out your window. “Yeah, that’s the Carter farm. They raise Appaloosas and alpacas.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You like horses? Not everyone can randomly pick out that breed.”

“I love horses,” you murmur, smiling broadly when you spot a few foals among the herd. You’re too busy looking at them to notice how he looks at you.

***

Breakfast is simple, just something picked up at a drive thru window, but that’s perfectly fine with you. Bucky doesn’t pull back onto the interstate though, he instead starts driving the winding country roads. You don’t mind in the least; you simply sip your coffee, content to be exactly where you are. Considering the hour, you aren’t even grumpy. Stealing glance at the reason why, you hide your smile and take another sip.

Bucky’s fingers drum almost nervously against the wheel, then he seems to make a decision as he brakes sharply. “Sorry, Princess,” he smiles sheepishly, “You up for a picnic? I know a spot.”

His smile is infectious. “Yeah.”

He takes the left he stopped so quickly for, and then another left onto a dirt road, and a mile later he turns onto what looks like a seldom used service trail leading up to a fenced in pasture. “Just a sec,” he pulls the truck to a stop, then gets out to open a gate. Bucky quickly climbs back in, drives the truck through about 20 feet before turning in a tight circle to face the road, and closes the gate behind him before stepping up to your door. “I got some blankets, do you want to sit in the truck bed with me?”

“Of course.”

He gets the blankets and spreads them out while you grab the food and coffees, handing them to him before you climb in after him.

“I would’ve helped you in, Princess.”

“Bucky. I’m not five feet tall. I can get into the back of a truck.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that. But unlike the other shmucks you seem to have come across in your life, I ain’t gonna make you do something by yourself just because you can. You deserve consideration and chivalry, too.”

What do you even say to that? He’s the exact opposite of pretty much everything you’ve ever known. It’s nice.

He sits down against a box that is attached to the back of the cab. “C’mere. You look cold.”

It was hot when you’d packed your overnight bag so you’ve only got a tee shirt and shorts on, and luckily a hoodie that just happened to be in the backseat of your car. “I am, a little,” you admit as you curl into his side, allowing him to cover your legs with another blanket that he’s pulled out.

He eats one handed, keeping an arm around you to keep you close and warm.

Everything smells clean and fresh now that the storm went through, and the morning air is chilly but fresh with the light breeze. The radio plays softly, drifting through the open windows as you and Bucky eat and watch the fluffy white clouds drift by. It’s the best picnic you’ve ever had, hands down.

“So where are we? It’s beautiful here.”

“My parents’ farm.”

You turn to stare at him. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Lucky.”

“I am. Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.” He stands suddenly, not waiting for a reply. You’re in the middle of a pasture, who the hell is there for you to meet? Bucky brings his fingers to his lips and lets out the sort of piercing whistle that you’ve never managed to master.

And then…and then…

“Are you fucking serious.” Eyes wide, you bring yourself to a kneeling position as a steel grey Percheron comes galloping full speed towards the truck. “Bucky!”

He turns toward you, face almost split in two by his grin. The horse slows down, circling the truck and whickering before coming to a full stop right at the tailgate.

“I’d like you to meet Sergeant.”

“Oh my God, Bucky, he’s stunning,” you breathe, unable to help yourself as you slowly move forward to sit at the edge of the open tailgate. Intelligent eyes take you in before a velvet muzzle finds your hand. “Sorry buddy, I don’t have any treats for you. But I do have ear scratches,” you murmur, firmly stroking the planes of his face before scratching behind his ears. You giggle when he sighs, and again when he mouths gently at your hair.

Bucky beams with pride as he pulls an apple out of the box you’d been leaning against, feeding it to Sergeant before sitting on the tailgate next to you. “I’ve had him for 20 years. I got him when he was just a colt. Trained him myself. He’s one of the reasons why I choose to work remotely – I just can’t imagine not getting to see him.”

“I don’t blame you at all, I don’t think I could’ve left this sweetheart either.” Sergeant blows gently in your face, then nuzzles you hard enough to push you backwards. “Oh my goodness, you are just a big baby, aren’t you, Sarge? Oh, you like that? That spot right there?” You laugh lightly as the giant horse stretches his neck toward you, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how you scratch just beneath where his mane grows.

“He likes you.” Sergeant looks over when Bucky speaks, but then turns back to you.

“Well, I like him.” Feeling eyes on you, you turn to Bucky. “What, are you jealous?” you tease.

“Yes.” Bucky cradles your face in both his hands and begins kissing you. Before you know it, you’re lying in the truck bed with him, making out like a couple of teenagers out past curfew. Time slows even as it moves, and you’d swear the minutes stretched into a blissful forever as you lay in his embrace. But the real world likes to force its way in, and the distant sound of a car’s horn brings you both back to your senses.

Sergeant is about 50 feet away, grazing peacefully as Bucky pulls out his phone to check the time. “We, uh, we should get going. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself, and my folks will be drivin’ by on their way to church in about 15 minutes.”

“Don’t feel like scarring them forever with the view of your naked ass?” You sit up and start pulling up the blankets to fold them.

“Honestly?” He shakes his head, “They’d probably cheer and then invite you over for dinner.”

Pausing your movements, you let that one sink in. “…Oh. Well that would be just as awkward as the alternative.”

He shrugs. “They’ve been dropping some not so subtle hints that they think I should settle down. They’d be thrilled just to know I spent the night with you.”

You tilt your head a bit as you watch him. “Don’t you date?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Really? Why not?”

He shrugs again as you hand him the blankets, then he turns his back to you as he puts them in the box. “I dunno. I guess I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to actually spend time with.”

“Huh.”

“What?” There’s a challenge in his eyes when he turns back around. “That so weird?”

“No, I get it. You definitely shouldn’t settle. I guess…” he’s staring at you now, waiting for you to finish, “I guess I’m just a little surprised that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet. Where I come from, you’re quite a catch.”

“You think so? How’s that?”

Is he baiting you? Teasing you? Genuinely curious? It’s impossible to tell. “I know so. You’re smart, kind, funny, and a stupid amount of gorgeous,” you pause to level a look at him, “but I suppose you already knew I thought the last part.”

Bucky barks out a laugh but at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“You have an absolutely beautiful horse, which wins points with pretty much every person I know. Your parents took in a couple of kids when they needed a family, and you learned a new language so you could keep communicating with your friend. You have every opportunity to move to another city, but you stay here to be close to those you care about. And,” it’s dumb, really, how you’re suddenly too shy to meet his eyes, “You’re really good in bed. Like, really really good. You’re the whole damn package.” When you finally look up, he’s staring at you again. “There’s a perfectly real possibility that you’re a total asshole and that you’ve been acting this whole time – I’ve only known you for a day – but I haven’t seen any cracks. I get the definite impression that I met the real Bucky, and he is one hell of a catch.”

“Huh.” He hops down and turns, holding out his hand to help you down. Do you need to take it? No, but you love that he offers anyway. He doesn’t let go after he helps you out, instead choosing to hold your hand as he walks you to the passenger side. Bucky only lets go because he has to, and once the gate is secured behind the truck, he takes your hand and holds it for the entire drive back to the motel.

***

Ever the gentleman, Bucky walks you back to your motel door.

“Do you have to go?” The words are out before you can think too long on them.

He’s shaking his head before your entire sentence is out, “No. Not if you don’t want me to.”

You don’t even care if you sound needy or clingy. “Please stay.”

Just like you learned last night, Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

At least the drapes are closed this time.

***

A sharp rap at the door and an equally sharp call of your name interrupts your post-lovemaking bliss. It’s your aunt.

“I don’t wanna,” you whine.

Bucky bristles, sensing your distress. “That her?”

You nod before pulling a pillow over your head. “I’m just going to pretend I’m still asleep. Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Don’t worry Princess, I got you.”

You feel the bed shift and move the pillow. “Bucky!”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised, as another insistent knock echoes through the room.

“You’re naked!” It comes out as a stage whisper, making you both snicker.

He flashes a shit eating grin. “So?”

Is he really gonna…

With a dramatic huff, he stops to find his boxer briefs and quickly tugs them on. Kind of. They’re sitting awfully low.

First there’s the sound of the door swinging open, then Bucky’s voice, bored and borderline intimidating. “Yeah?”

The following silence is deafening and you almost wish the room was set up so you could see your aunt’s face, but all you can see is the back half of Bucky’s sensational body leaning in the doorframe.

“Uh, hi? I’m looking for my niece? I thought this was her room?”

“You mean the tall, gorgeous drink of water? About my height? Killer smile? Was wearing, uh, let’s see, what was she wearing? It’s been awhile and she ain’t wearin’ much of anything now.”

The blood rushes to your face, but you can’t even imagine how embarrassed Lydia is right now. The thought is nothing short of glorious.

“Uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times, feigning concentration, “Oh! A black dress with the sexiest heels imaginable? Sound about right?”

“Well, yes, but –“

“Yeah, she’s here.” His tone is still bored, but you think you can pick up on an edge of amusement. Your aunt must be squirming by now, and it’s all you can do to not start cackling.

“I thought…well…the gift opening is in an hour. I thought she was going to meet us for breakfast before –“

“She won’t be goin’ to the gift opening. Or breakfast, but don’t you worry, ma’am. I made sure she ate something.”

The not so subtle innuendo almost makes you choke on your own spit.

“You can’t – are you holding my niece hostage or something?”

He laughs darkly but yells out, “Princess, am I holding you hostage?”

Your own laugher, unable to be contained any longer, bursts out. “Nope!” you call out, absolutely feeling as gleeful as you sound.

Lydia is practically apoplectic by now. “But what about the gift opening?”

“She doesn’t. Want. To go,” he growls, stooping down. “And here, she doesn’t want your fucking ugly shoes, either. Stop projecting your insecurities onto her – she’s perfect the way she is.” Bucky closes the door – perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary – and you hear the sound of the lock sliding into place before he saunters back to the bed.

“Thank you for doing that, Buck. I – holy shit, I cannot believe you answered the door like that.” Your eyes are glued to how low his boxers are sitting – he’s showing more than just his happy trail.

“What? Everything’s technically covered.”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Princess?”

“I – I’m not even sure how you managed it, but you basically turned your boxers into the dick version of a pasty.”

He grins, “Like I said. Everything’s technically covered.” Bucky moves closer, crawling into the bed until he hovers above you. “But not for long,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “Now, the way I figure it, we got another two hours till checkout.”

“Mmmmm…” you’d rather not think of the time. It’s necessary if you don’t want someone from housekeeping to accidentally walk in, but you don’t want this to end.

He kisses you deeply before pulling back, looking just a little hesitant. “And then, if you want, we could continue this back at my place? If you’re not in a hurry to get home?”

He’s kept his lips to himself for a few seconds, so your head manages to clear enough to process what he just said. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I get it if you have to get back. But,” he shrugs awkwardly, his current vulnerability at stark odds with his usual confidence, “I like you. I’d like to spend the day with you if you’re free.” He kisses your neck again and nibbles your ear. “We can do more of this. I like this, too. A lot.” He pulls back to look you in the eye. “But we could also do some talkin’. Maybe you’d let me take you out to a nice dinner before you head home?”

A smile, broad and genuine, stretches across your face. “I’d like that. I’d really like that.” Even if you never see Bucky again after today, you’re hungry for whatever time you can get with him. He’s addictive and you’ve never in your life felt more satisfied and safe than you do right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His borderline cocky confidence returns as his hands resume roaming the landscape of your body. “Good,” he mouths against your throat, and resumes his worship of you. “It’s gonna be a good day, Princess. A good fuckin’ day.”

Tags: @hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire @learisa @widowvinter @kaaatniss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @denialanderror @k-nighttt @givemethatgold @manders2487 @afangirlrambles @polkadottedpillowcase @bluebrrn @saysay125 @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508 @scarlettsoldier @natalie-nightcourt @im-beautifully-sewn @lovemarvelousfics @feistytravel @tbetz0341 @nearly-whitches @jamie-leah @shliic @dessinemoiunehistoire @lucywinchester2000 @solarbarnes @a-proper-chicken @movingonto-betterthings @seekingkairos @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @part-time-patronus @natashasnight @fairislesheets @new-romanticz1989

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x tall!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my work #black velvet #5.6.20

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bbhyeoliskooks · 4 years

Text

/* 𝐈𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 *\

It’s strange that even though Taehyun doesn’t return your feelings, he becomes jealous when another boy grows closer to you.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader (female)

Genre: 2 cups of fluff and like three tablespoons of angst

Warnings: Puking, Attempt at drugging in punch ._.

Song: It Might Be You

(Guys! Guess what. I’m making another unrequited love au yay)

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Of course, moving on was going to be difficult. A big blow to the heart obviously wasn’t a good thing, but you knew you had to do keep going forward or else everything would be awkward. This was what you prepared for, but it was going to be hard when you thought of his words every second.

A lot of people would laugh at you for being so weak under pressure, but you confessed to Taehyun just a month ago when he asked you if you possibly liked him.

After a year of hiding your feelings from your best friend, you couldn’t take it anymore and you told him what you truly felt. You should’ve known better not to say anything about your foolish love, but you weren’t able to keep what was forbidden from him any longer.

Just the way he would brightly smile at you was enough to give a tremor in the knees because you were so in love. You couldn’t go a minute without thinking about how sweet he was like an amber flower and he would envelope your happiest dreams in a vibrant, heavenly-like scenery as you reached out to take his hand. You swore that every time you would take grasp of his hand, he would pull away no matter how tight you held on which caused you to wake up with a deep frown on your face.

Quickly it became very unbearable, and you loudly burst, telling him that you wanted to give your relationship a chance.

It was obvious that he didn’t like you as much as you did by the dumbfounded look on his face when you told him, but you hoped that somewhere deep in your heart that he longed for you as well. Your delusions were quickly shut down as he softly reminded you that he only felt platonic feelings towards you and desired to continue being your best friend since you two had a lot of history with each other. You didn’t know how you did it, maybe by the adrenaline or so, but you managed to keep a fake smile on your face through the day before coming home and letting tears out from how much you wanted to turn back the time and just say no when he asked you.

It was a good thing that he shut you down before the heart grew fonder, but you hated it more than anything. More than anything, you wanted to hold him in your arms while you watched the gleaming stars of the night fall down into the palm of your hand, reassuring that he was the only one for you. It was a shame that you couldn’t get what you wanted, and you had to accept the fate of destiny before you moved on.

It was considered strange for someone who was just rejected, but you actually made an effort to get over Taehyun each day. You cursed yourself for falling in love with your best friend knowing that it would be hard to find someone who you really liked enough to replace him. By making those attempts, you went out more- going to parties that everyone was invited to, talking to those out of class, and calling the boys that had a bad reputation for playing with other girls’ hearts. You did things that you didn’t like just because you were hurt.

Eventually, your strong friendship with Taehyun had grown apart each day since you tried to avoid seeing him. You wondered if he was disappointed in you for acting this way, but perhaps this was the only way to purge your feelings. That led you to try even harder than before because you wanted to salvage what little you had with him. Despite your efforts, you would find his breathtaking smile in the most saccharine of dreams you had at night while you soundly slept.

It only made you unhappy because you had put a limit on seeing him each week as well as ditching him every time he asked to hang out with you.

Today was a bit different than the others, the only thing being that you wanted to throw up whatever you had in your system. You got up from bed that warm morning with a lightheaded feeling and a parched, dehydrated throat. You felt horrible because all of the energy was drained out of you even after a great rest and decided to take some syrup medicine for colds like this. It seemed strange to you because you slept for a good amount, maybe ten hours at most if you counted correctly.

Your stomach was bubbling when you drank a little bit, although not the good kind. There was a big exam today that you studied for, so you knew you couldn’t skip class just to stay at home and get better. Yes, it wasn’t wise at all, but you didn’t want to miss the test that you had been stressing over all week.

Not to mention a party today that a specific someone invited you to go as their partner. You had to go because you would grow guilty if you saw him sad the next day. Lately, you had been talking and found out that you had many things in common. His name was Min Minho, a boy who was from the other class and somehow became your study partner. It was fun to go on little dates with him for just the two of you, but it was as if your heart was only dormant when you were with him. You didn’t feel butterflies when you saw him like with Taehyun, but perhaps with each time you spend with him, your heart would flutter. You were forcing your heart to like him, your feelings being as real as much as the way you denied you loved another boy who was your best friend.

---

You found yourself dozing off in class even if you had drunk a few cups of coffee from your favorite cafe. Usually it worked if you had one cup, but it wasn’t enough to energize you, and you kind of overdosed drinking three. For a few times during different classes, you went to the bathroom just to throw up nothing because you didn’t have breakfast. You thought it would help, but it went the opposite of what you expected.

In times like this, Taehyun would scold you while feeding you a lot of food during lunch that he purposefully brought from home, a little meaningful thing that he always did when he somehow guessed that you hadn’t eaten yet. You hoped that he wouldn’t nag you for today when you two sat together to eat lunch as promised on the rooftop.

You walked out of the bathroom with a frown engraved on your lips. You were too busy thinking about how you would fall over if you didn’t sleep that you didn’t notice that someone was waiting for you, leaning against the wall of the girls’ bathroom. You bumped right into him, tripping over your feet and shutting your eyes at the impact of the floor hitting your bottom.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Your head was incredibly dizzy, and you stood up slowly from the spot on the tile. The person helped you up a little bit with a soft grip on your arm, and you recognized that scent from anywhere. You opened your eyes and gasped when you made eye contact with Taehyun and involuntarily slapped his hand away.

He gazed at you anxiously, realizing that you looked a bit heated and cleared his throat at your panicked stare directed at him. “Y/N, you feel too warm. Are you sick? You never go to the bathroom in the morning unless you need to throw up.”

You shook your head, holding in the urge to throw up again so you wouldn’t seem sick in front of him. You couldn’t let him check up on you daily after he rejected you a week ago. It was ridiculous, but you wanted to save enough dignity to meet his eyes every time you saw him.

You found it funny how you prioritized your pride more than telling the truth.

“I’m feeling fine, Hyun. I should go back to class now, see you later?” You didn’t give him time to answer before rushing away using all of the strength in your legs. He glanced at your direction, sighing in disappointment as he watched you drift away from him for the nth time that week. “She always says that, but it never carries through.”

---

You got ready that night after a few hours of rest and homework, but that made you feel even worse than earlier. You thought that catching up on a little bit of rest would heal you a bit to keep what little food you ate earlier, but that didn’t work. You just felt sicker when you got up from bed, however you couldn’t leave Minho alone. You’d be so guilty even if you called him to let him know that you were sick.

Taking a few more teaspoons of medicine and chugging a bottle of water, you wondered if Taehyun was really going to be there. He didn’t go to these events, but you heard that a girl from his homeroom asked him to come so she wouldn’t be alone. This irked you since he said yes immediately, but you could only be curious. Maybe he liked her which is why he agreed and that hurt you much more than the rejection. You should’ve known with the way he didn’t hesitate to accept.

The place was full of sweaty teenagers who were dancing in every corner. You pretended to realize that it wasn’t your thing, but you knew this whole time, getting angry at yourself for not staying at home. It was so warm and stuffy that you wondered if you would ever be able to find Minho in this mess. You hated that you were in the middle of everything, and walked over to the drink section when a familiar figure walked up to you.

“Y/N! My baby is here!” Your tired mind was hazy with burning thoughts, but you knew that voice straight away when it passed through your ears. It was Minho, but why did he call you his baby? You weren’t in a relationship with him, so he had no right to call you that as of now.

You turned back to see him holding one red solo cup in his hand that meant he had gotten punch from the table. You were going to yell at him for calling you that, but you knew that it would come off as rude when you had been leading him on this whole time. Maybe tomorrow was the a better time to remind him that you weren’t looking for a relationship when the music was blasting so much so that he was barely able to hear you. ”Uh, hi? It’s good to see you as well, Minho.” You could hear your voice dripping with passive aggressiveness, but he didn’t seem to actually catch on how pissed you sounded with your clenched smile.

He stepped closer to you with a smirk on his face as he gripped onto your arm. It was too tight for your comfort, but you couldn’t get out of his grasp. He raised an amused eyebrow at you who surrendered easily and fell against his chest as your strength had failed you. He smugly chuckled at your weakness and patted the top of your head despite your muffled sounds of protest. “Take a drink, baby. You are a bit tired and I think it will definitely make you feel better.”

Many alarms were going off in your head, but all that was ringing through your ears was to be polite. Minho was your study buddy, you knew that you could trust him as always. He wouldn’t drug you or something like that, right? Oh, if you just looked at the evidence before then you would see how much you were a fool for not thinking that he had ulterior moves.

You lazily opened your mouth a little, feeling hypnotized by his charming green eyes as he was about to pour the drink. You were waiting for the liquid to fall straight into your lips, but it never came when the grip on your arm suddenly became loose. You rubbed your eyes in shock when you saw Taehyun grab the drink in Minho’s hand causing the both of them to get drenched from the sudden movement. You weren’t able to make sense of it at that moment and thought that Minho was only looking out for your well-being.

Taehyun sprinted up to you as you felt yourself gradually become light each second. His hands were wet from the drink when he took your hand into his, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to go home by yourself because you were already pissed that today was ruined just because you had a tiny little cold. You were sure that the exam went terrible, and now that the two of them were fighting for no reason was not much worse than the two of them compared.

You glared at him and forcefully jerked your hand from him. “Get away from me! Leave me alone, you know you’re only making it worse.” His eyes widened and he stepped towards you with uneasiness in his stance. “Y/N... I’m only trying to help you, but you do all of these things that I tell you not to! Your boyfriend here was trying to drug you, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if I wasn’t here.”

He was in disbelief that you were angry at him when it was supposed to be the other way. Why couldn’t you see how worried he was for you? Especially after he had hurt your feelings unintentionally. He couldn’t stand seeing you sad because of him and tried to give you space so you could move on, but that clearly turned out sour. He did some thinking these past few weeks and realized that all he craved for was your soothing presence. Just for you to be in his arms while he softly sang you to sleep was enough for him, but he couldn’t see it until now.

It was really unfortunate that you had to avoid him to make him discover his feelings, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you had already moved on due to how he treated you this week.

When he went back to class today after talking to you, he knew that you were lying to him when you told him that you weren’t feeling sick. He was planning to grab a little bit of food for you during dinner so you’d feel a bit better, but he was startled when you didn’t answer the door. He cursed himself for not remembering that you were planning to go to the place with Minho when he advised you not to. He always got bad vibes from him, and this just proved his point when he begged you to stop seeing him. He was your boyfriend now, right? Taehyun had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t stop himself from being so when he might’ve lost the chance to be with you.

“Boyfriend?! You think he’s my boyfriend after a month you rejected me?! What are you trying to say?” You clenched your jaw feeling the tension elevate in the atmosphere, growing frustrated at what your best friend was assuming. You were probably overreacting, but after all of the crap that happened, you found this the only way to escape the situation.

He grabbed your hands pleadingly that it would seem desperate to whoever was looking your way. This time you didn’t pull away because your heart was yearning some type of affection from Taehyun even if it was something little like this. You were too weak both inside and weak to walk away from him. It was ridiculous to anyone from the outside, but perhaps more or less 30 days without touching him was not suitable for someone like you.

“That’s what you realized after I supplied you with all of that information?” He sighed in disappointment and brought you closer to him, a stern glare on his face. “He was going to do something awful to you! Why can’t you see how much you’re hurting yourself when you go to these things? You’re so naive when I’m not able to watch over you for a little bit!”

You sniffled, realizing that the drops of tears that you tried to hold back were already falling. He was yelling at you and for a good reason, but it was tiring to hear the same things over and over again from your friends, and especially from him. You acknowledged that it wasn’t good for you when you’d wake up every morning with a headache, but you didn’t want to hear it from him. In your head, if he was really looking out for you then he wouldn’t avoid you like you did.

It was an extremely petty and unfair opinion, but that still didn’t stop you from feeling hurt.

“I know, I know, Taehyun! Don’t tell me again that I’m wrong!” You furiously rubbed your cheek when yet another tear fell. His expression became horrified when he noticed that you were upset, but you didn’t have a chance to listen to him since you interrupted him. “I know I shouldn’t go to these parties since I might be in danger whenever I talk to someone I haven’t met. I know I shouldn’t meet up with people that you warn me about. I know I shouldn’t go without your permission because you’re always too worried about me, but if you only knew the reason why, then you’d understand!”

You looked up into his sparkling eyes, subtly letting him know that you were the most vulnerable in moments like these. You hadn’t been very open with him this past few year because of your heart, so this could be the only time where you’d truly be honest to him. Of course you confessed, but you lied and said that they were only minor feelings when they were the exact opposite. Hopefully, he would be able to see through the obstacle of your tears and understand how hurt you felt from making terrible decisions.

“I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I shouldn’t have fell for you I know, but you don’t have to rub it in. I’m tired of feeling like this because I’m aware you’ll never feel for me like I do. What makes it worse is that I’m trying to get away from you, but you always seem to haunt me in my dreams! I love you so much so that it seems hopeless.”

He peered into your twinkling eyes that were unfortunately filled with what he hated the most, a look of genuine sadness because of him. He couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable you sounded, but you took it as a hint that he was mocking at you for saying the truth. You lingered for a little bit for him to say something just in case although being delusional wasn’t the best choice right now.

Taehyun cleared his throat and let go of your hands before scratching the back of his neck. You looked at him again instead of the dim floor, seeing a little bit of red coating his cheeks. You shook your head rapidly, swearing at yourself for thinking that he was nervous because he had something to say- something like a confession. You waited for a while, a few doubts clouding your mind until he spoke again, mentally preparing your heart for the worst.

“Y/N... I’m sorry, but I don’t think I like you.” You had to hear it for the second time again. He was saying something with a big grin on his face, but you couldn’t hear it without the sound of your heart cracking piece by piece in your ears. It was almost like anyone could hear it shatter, and you just wanted to get out of there. Even getting for the rejection wasn’t good when you actually had to process what he said.

You gulped the big lump in your throat and softly smiled at him, one that was obviously artificial for someone who knew you for a long time. Here you were again hiding your heartache despite how much he knew! You wanted to hit yourself wherever you could for feeling the things you were as the hate for yourself grew more stronger. Questions racked up in your head like if there was someone better than you and you weren’t good enough to appeal to him.

“Ah, see? I was right. I should get going though. My stomach hurts and I feel a bit under the weather.” He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips thinking for a second before saying something. Again, you didn’t give him a chance as you glanced at his confused face and waved a hasty goodbye that only he could see. “I’ll get going, Hyun! See you tomorrow!”

You were sure that you looked like a fool at the moment, but you took off the heels that you were wearing and ran away from his sight while he was yelling at you to stop. You didn’t know how you were able to do it, maybe because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood, but you made it home in one piece after walking by yourself in a gloomy night.

You crashed into bed drawing out a long sob that had took the remaining energy out of you. You shouldn’t have gone to this party knowing that Taehyun would be there. Heck, it didn’t even ring an alarm bell in your messed up head that suspicious Minho tried to drug you with something! One of the people that you trusted and wanted to get closer to had ulterior moves that you didn’t perceive, yet you skipped past of it and looked more into the relevant rejection. It was probably the reason why Taehyun wasn’t able to see you in that way because you were too naive to be around with. The negative thoughts reverberating in your cracked heart was enough to knock you out, as well as the perpetual tears that flowed out from you.

---

The following day, you awoke to a few quiet shuffling sounds from the covers. The morning sunlight was shining through the window which caused you to wake up from your deep rest with a subtle frown on your face. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright when you had to get ready for school, and it confused you as to why the sun was peeking from the corner of your window. You felt tired than usual again, but it wasn’t an excuse to get back to sleep when there was a lot of work to complete.

You were actually tempted to fall back asleep and snuggle against your fluffy plushies until you realized that today must’ve been a Saturday. You were so lucky to have a day to yourself! A sigh of relief came out of you and you rubbed your cheek against the pillow you were resting your head on until a big realization smacked you right in the face.

Wait a sec... yesterday was a Thursday, right? That only meant today was a Friday then! Didn’t your alarm go off?! You shot up from your spot on the bed, but instantly stopped from how dizzy you felt. It felt like you were going to fall over if you didn’t have the bed to support you from underneath your sweaty palms.

There was a light chuckle from someone on the corner of your bed and you sat up slowly before they ushered you and tucked you back in. Your eyes seemed to be waking up as they were filled with a black horizon that stretched across both of them. You rubbed your face, groaning as you thought it was your guardian who came back from one of their business trips. You sighed and smiled softly, thinking that they would make your favorite food for the day since you were feeling terrible. It was a surprise when your vision finally cleared.

Your eyes widened when you made eye contact with Taehyun and you plunged back into the heavy blanket, covering yourself so that he wouldn’t see how ashamed you were. How did he come inside anyway? It obviously wasn’t like you handed him a key earlier that month when you warned him that it was for only for emergencies.

Just like that, a big gush of memories whipped across your head and you slowly regained what you had said yesterday. You facepalmed yourself and held your breath, wishing that he wouldn’t say anything about what happened last night.

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. You could tell that a grin was gracing his features because of how playful he sounded, but you didn’t want to look. Yes, he was breathtaking to look at, but that wasn’t the point! You wanted to hit yourself for thinking of those few words while you wondered if he was going to say something.

“Why didn’t you stay at home yesterday, dove? You were sick, and you shouldn’t have gone out like that. I was planning for us to order some take-in and watch movies all night and hold you in my arms.” You covered your eyes with the blanket, feeling embarrassed for thinking in such an irrational way. Your mind must’ve been heavily tampered with how sick you were if you thought yesterday that Taehyun was in the wrong.

“I couldn’t have let Minho go alone! You know exactly who I am, probably better than myself. I understand now that I shouldn’t have entrusted him with my secrets, but if you got to know his persona, then you would’ve been fooled too.” He didn’t say anything, so you continued to fill the empty bubble of silence. “By the way... I’m sorry for acting like that towards you. I should’ve been more mature about the situation, so I sincerely apologize for my actions.”

He smiled at you, inching towards your spot to hold your hand. You peeked out from the covers and you accepted it hesitantly but happily since he forgave you by the grin he was shooting at you and slid closer. “Hey it’s okay, but you should’ve brought me. You didn’t get to hear what I said before you ran away.”

Now, your heart was pounding. Was he seriously going to reject you for the third time? You held back a laugh of disbelief because you didn’t want to talk about how he rejected you twice, much to your embarrassment. It was difficult to look him straight in the eye and smile as if you had really meant it. Nonetheless, you remained quiet as to hear what he had to say and looked sadly at his drooping figure. “What do you want to say that could possibly make this better, Taehyun?”

He exhaled in the comforting silence, seemingly clearing his head for a second before turning to you. “Well this is going to sound awkward, and you might not accept it anyway after all I’ve done. I thought you said no yesterday when you ran away, but turns out you didn’t hear me. I thought it’d be better to wait for you to get some rest since it might’ve come out as a shock.”

You nodded your head, a bit puzzled on why he was rambling. He usually didn’t do this unless he was nervous to tell the truth or something like that. You hoped that it was good, one that wouldn’t send another hit to your poor heart that you still needed a bit more time to mend.

“What I’m saying is... I love you, Y/N. I really do, it’s just that I didn’t see it until you avoided me.” Words were caught in your throat and you were going to yell at him to stop playing with your feelings, knowing that he was blind sometimes. However, by the look in his shimmering eyes plus the tint of sadness, you realized that he was only telling the truth.

You were unable to say anything as your mind couldn’t find the words to, so he continued. “I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that. I did a lot of thinking, and I couldn’t help but be jealous when you hung out more with Minho. By that point I had already known I loved you so much, but I was unable to say something to you because I thought that you had already hated me.”

There were tears welling up in his eyes that he tried to hide, but you saw through him anyway. You heard how innocent the little sniffles coming from his nose were, and grinned although he couldn’t see it with how busy he was trying to conceal his tears. His feelings towards you were so pure, but he couldn’t put them into words and he didn’t know if you were going to reject him like he did to you.

The baby bluebirds were chirping outside of the window when you were the first one who finally spoke up. It had seem like a long time where you both wallowed in your thoughts and waited for the other to say something, even if it was negative. He just gazed at you longingly as you did the same, wondering if he could feel how much you were at the moment.

Your voice started a little wobbly, but you didn’t mind. You just felt so happy that you finally had what you desired after a whole year. “So this whole time, you love me?” He was going to say a word, but you were quick to cut him off. “I have absolutely no words to say. I can’t say anything, but yes! Of course, I still love you, dummy. What makes you think that I was going to say no?”

You jumped up from the bed to give him a back hug on the edge of the right side and nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. He giggled a sweet melody, wiping away the few tears that had fallen and leaned into your embrace.

“So, you’re my girlfriend now?”

“You must be blind if you think I’m going to say no.”

Both of you laughed a little before you grew quiet at what you both obtained.

This was the feeling that you had strove for, to finally know that he was yours and that you were his.

*^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^◯)*_^ω و *^

Posted: 7/25/20- Added to Queue

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

Evanescent

Group : NCT

Pairing : Na Jaemin x Reader (+ the rest of the Dreamies)

Warnings : blood, death, a few curses

Genre : fluff, angst

Word count : ~6300

M.list

Life was such a cruel, sick joke. When people think about their teenage years it’s all about dumb high school crushes and sneaking out to parties to get drunk. It’s never been about killing, running and surviving. It shouldn’t be. They should think about how they’re going to pass that Chemistry test next week, not about running out of food. It wasn’t the case for the silent group of five kids hiding in the shadows.

Jaemin often swore he was a step away from losing his sanity. He sometimes thought it would have been easier to just give up, end his own suffering as not to give those brainless, disgusting creatures the satisfaction to rip him to shreds. His eyes shone with pure anger and hatred for the poor excuse he calls his life. He has been on the run for the past 3 years, ever since he was barely 17. He never got to experience real life. He didn’t get to debut with his friends at the school’s musical event or get his driver’s license. But what he regretted the most was not getting to tell his parents how much he loved them before this madness began.

So what kept him from ending it all? Maybe it was the warm eye smile Jeno would bless him with from time to time. Or Renjun and Donghyuck’s playful banter that would often light up the depressing mood that fell over them. But the one thing he knew for sure was that it was her all along.

It was her soft touch on his cheek when she reassured him, it was her firm grip on his hand when she got restless, it was her strong spirit that kept them all going through this hell and her brilliant mind which amazed the other 4 boys.

It was Y/N, Jaemin’s childhood sweetheart. They had been attached at the hip ever since they were in diapers. They were each other’s entire world, the center of their Universe. It’s always been like that, even when it wasn’t just the 2 of them anymore. They were all so different, but they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. They completed each other and brought out the best one from the other. And the other boys also cared for her in their own ways. Donghyuck was fiercely protective of her, he always had her back. Jeno has always been like an older brother, despite being the same age, offering her piggyback rides and the occasional bickering. Renjun was her advisor, reminding her she was only human in the end. And Jaemin... it was useless saying he would have done anything for her at any time of the day, no matter what.

“Jaemin!”

‘Huh?” the said boy raised his gaze to meet Renjun’s exasperated one.

“Were you even listening to what I was saying?”

Renjun didn’t need an answer to his question, it was already obvious. He sighed and repeated himself, knowing now he had the younger boy’s attention.

“We’re running out of food. We have to find the nearest form of civilization and restock.”

Jaemin stayed silent. He knew what that meant. They were going to encounter those ugly bastards again. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. The last time they approached a small town they barely got out of there in one piece. What if they weren’t going to be so lucky again? What if one of them was going to get left behind? No..no that couldn’t happen, he couldn’t let that happ -

“Jaemin-ah?” a soft whisper came from the side. His head snapped towards Y/N, wide and alarmed, only to be met with deep orbs which only reflected calmness and slight concern. “It’s going to be alright”.

She could read him so easily, it was like he was an open book for her to read.

“I know, it’s just the usual worry.”

She sent him a small smile and moved closer to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and interlaced their cold fingers. He slightly turned his head to leave a butterfly kiss on the crown of her head and he felt a million emotions running through him : love for the only light in his dark life, anger to the world for making them go through this and melancholy. Such a deep longing for the old days when they’d lay on a sofa in this same position, under the warm blankets. Jaemin hated that he could do nothing to give her a better life.

“Stop overthinking and let’s get some rest, we’ll need it”

She griped his hand tighter for a moment, before she got up and moved to the couch where Donghyuck was already sprawled. Jaemin heard Y/N silently nudge over the boy and slip beside him with a creak from the wooden floor of the incredibly small but convenient cabin they found a few kilometers away from a village.

Only then did Jaemin realize just how tired he was. With a huff he walked to the mattress laid on the ground a threw himself on it beside a sleeping Jeno. He took a last look around the room to see Renjun dozing off on the armchair in a slouched position and the other two, lying knocked out on the sofa.

He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and slipping off into a dreamless sleep.

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

“Bloody hell, Y/N!”

Jaemin ran his fingers through his hair furiously. He was so frustrated he couldn’t even put it into words. The other guys were tense, angry and scared in their own ways.

“Look, guys, stop it, nothing happened”

“How can you just say that Y/N?! Are you even in your right mind?”

Renjun put a comforting hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, interrupting him.

“Look Y/N, I have to take Jaemin’s side this time. It’s not about what happened, it’s about what could have happened. And we both know it could have ended in a disaster.”

“I think we shouldn’t linger on this”

“Y/N stop! You’re being stubborn, you know we shouldn’t take this lightly” Donghyuck tried to reason with her. She sighed and lowered her head, avoiding everyone’s gazes.

“I..I’m sorry, okay?.. I’m sorry.. It was an accident.” Her voice was weak, almost a whisper. Jeno shuffled closer to her and linked their pinkies together as an act of reassurance. She tightened her grip on his finger and he could tell she was just as shaken up as the rest of them.

It really was an accident. But an accident that already ended one of their friend’s life almost a year go. He was a senior from their school, Mark. They were in the same group of friends and he was the one who always took care of them, even during this dark period of time in their life, after everything was switched up in the most sick and twisted way. Mark was their protector, their anchor, their lighthouse where they felt the safest. He was the reason their group stuck together through thick and thin and for a while after his shocking death it seemed like everything was about to fall apart even more than it already had.

No one really expected it. The most common answer to “Who do you think will survive this shit?” was always Mark. So it came as an even bigger disaster when it happened. How could their only hope vanish so fast, right before their eyes and at the hands of the creatures they swore to destroy?

Despite everything, he died a heroic death. He took his promise to protect his friends with him, six feet under with utmost honor. During a run for food, their younger friend, Chenle rushed to gather everything he could put his hands on. He didn’t bother to check the balcony above the box he was searching through in the small house’s yard they decided to loot. It was already too late to move out of the way when the undead fell right towards his from a few meters above. And Chenle wouldn’t have escaped if it wasn’t for Mark’s vigilant eye. He slammed into the younger boy, trying to get the both of them out of the way, but the creature had already latched onto the fabric of his hoodie. Mark kicked him with everything he had, using the bat he had found at the beginning of the apocalypse.

Even in the mild panic, Mark’s brain still worked logically as he sternly told Chenle to get the rest and get the hell away from the house. The Chinese boy trusted Mark with everything he had so he did as he was told, believing his senior must have had a plan, as he always had. Only when they were already too far to do anything did he realize just how much chaos they had caused and just how much unwanted attention they had attracted from the other brainless things around them. Only then did Chenle realize Mark’s only plan was to buy enough time for the others to get away.

They returned to the damned house a few hours later, when the place was as empty as it was before everything happened. Everyone held onto their last glimmer of hope that Mark was fine. He had to be fine, right?... He wasn’t.

They found him in the same place he tried to fight, under the balcony. He was disfigured so badly it was almost impossible to recognize him, blood pooling everywhere, staining the once green grass into a sea of angry red. His signature bat was lying bloodied just a few centimeters away from his outstretched hand, as a last impulse of desperation a brink away from the terrifying darkness that was slowly and agonizingly swallowing him up.

Chenle’s knees bucked under the pressure of pure devastation. He could barely register Y/N dashing to the what was left of their older friend, throwing herself beside him and curling her fists in his ripped jacket, shaking his body and screaming in false hope.

“Mark! Mark Lee! Mark, stop this stupid joke! Mark! Oppa, wake up, this isn’t funny! WAKE UP!”

Donghyuck ran to her side, bitter tears running down his face, and wrapped his arms around her torso. He buried his face in her neck, trying to soothe her and move her away from the disturbing sight.

She collapsed on her elbows, her forehead touching the shining red grass below and slammed her fist against the ground, heart wrenching sobs violently shaking her body.

“No..no please...PLEASE...this can’t happen, this isn’t real, that’s it, isn it? I’m finally going crazy is that right? Right, oppa? Oppa? Mark...please”

She was gently picked up from the ground and in Jaemin’s warm arms. She could feel his body tremble as he held her head pressed to his shoulder. Still, her hand extended to where Mark laid now in Jeno’s unstable arms as the younger boy picked his senior up on their last trip together.

They buried him hours later in a field with heavy hearts and breaking souls. The 2 youngest were huddled up, using each other as a comfort blanket. Jaemin couldn’t watch the entire thing go down so he waited a little away crying as he heard his friends’ heart breaking murmurs of last goodbyes. Jeno helped bury Mark, even though he could barely sustain himself he insisted on doing everything right, out of gratefulness for everything the elder has done to them. Renjun tried to toughen up and just be there for everyone. Now he was the eldest one so he had to fill in Mark’s place as best as he could. It was what his hyung would have wanted. Donghyuck was simply heartbroken, he couldn’t understand how this had went down, how they could have just lost him, their best friend. Renjun had to unclench his fingers from around Mark’s hand, he just couldn’t let him go. Not now, not ever.

Y/N stayed glued to her spot beside his fresh grave until the others had to haul her up to keep moving. She sat there the entire time, with her knees to her chest, begging anyone and anything for something to happen, to bring her life support back. His death took a tool on her. She lost her joviality, the light in her eyes, gaining cruelty for everything other than her friends. Her sole purpose became their survival.

Despite everyone’s efforts, the group fell apart, they just couldn’t function properly. And before they regained their rhythm it was already too late, as their group lessened and lessened. That’s how big Mark’s spot in their lives was.

And now, that they were about to lose someone else in a similar way drove them crazy. While passing through a garden, one of those creatures fell from the roof, right beside Y/N and attacking her. She barely got out in time.

The boys were shaken up to the core. If they had lost her, what would have happened? They would have lost everything. No one wanted to think about the ‘what if’s’.

Donghyuck could tell what she was thinking about. It wasn’t hard to guess. With the same thoughts in mind he approached her and caressed her head with gentle fingers.

“I’m sorry for yelling, we know it wasn’t your fault. Everyone’s just on edge and what just happened can’t be a repeat”

“I know” she looked up at him with glistening eyes. He hasn’t seen her so emotional since Mark’s death.

Renjun sighed and rubbed his temple with a shaking hand.

“Let’s just go to sleep for now. We need rest, especially Y/N. We’ll talk about this in the morning when everyone has calmed down a bit.”

They all nodded. Jaemin trudged to the other 3 standing and put a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Can I sleep on the couch tonight?” he whispered. Donghyuck understood the real question and nodded patting the girl’s head one more time and bidding them good night. Jeno kissed her head and also retreated to his sleeping arrangement.

Y/N kept her head low. Jaemin just couldn’t stand seeing her like that so he took her hand and slowly guided her to the couch, motioning for her to lay down first. She did and he followed her, but the moment he closed her eyes he could see and feel everything again. His blood freezing in his veins when seeing that monster on top of her and his Y/N struggling to avoid its sharp teeth, holding it back with everything she had. Everyone rushing to her aid and himself ripping it to pieces in a blinding wave of rage. Their run back to their little cabin and the haze that followed during the next half an hour. He was sure he was in shock. He could hardly believe he let this happen. But when thinking of it he didn’t see Y/N standing in front of them trying to keep herself calm. No, he saw her body torn up, a resembling image of Mark’s. And that terrified him, how close she was to that.

He flinched awake and turned his trembling body to face her. She was there, alive, breathing, with her back turned to him and her hair sprawled around the cushion under her head. At first he put a shy hand on her waist, just to feel her side rise and fall with her soft breaths. But then, his raging emotions and past turmoil overcame his rational mind and he wrapped himself around her, nuzzling his face in her shoulder, finally feeling at peace.

“Please Y/N, never again, okay? I..I need you, so stay by my side” And he fell asleep with his word barely leaving his mouth in a whisper.

Unknown to him, she gripped his hand back and caressed his knuckles with her thumb lovingly.

“I promise.”

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

“Well fuck you”

The small flower slipped through the slight gap between Y/N’s fingertips, emitting a huff and a whispered curse from the frustrated girl. It just wouldn’t stick the right way and it frustrated her to no end.

“Language, miss.” she heard an amused voice scold her from above.

She raised her head lazily and met eyes with Jaemin, who wore a smirk on his face. She hasn’t seen him so playful in a long time. She’s missed it.

“Shut up” Y/N retorted with fake annoyance.

Jaemin took a seat beside his best friend, watching Y/N’s nimble fingers trying to mold the flowers into a pretty crown. She had already done one, she had 4 more to go, including the one currently in her hands. She knew she didn’t have enough plants for all of them and she also knew the boys weren’t going to be happy with her reason to go out, but that was a problem for another time.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked as if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“Have you also gone blind after you lost all of your brain cells?”

“Ha ha,Y/N, very funny. The real question is why are you doing this?”

“Boredom. I had to find an occupation so I don’t go crazy. I think it would also make a great accessory for you guys”

“Fair enough, I’d look fabulous. When did you gather all these though?” He asked gesturing to the flowers laid beside her on the couch.

“Why so many questions? I just made a quick stop when I was returning from the lake with Renjunie”

He hummed and continued watching her work.

“Where have you learned to make these?”

She released an airy laugh at his oncoming questions and Jaemin couldn’t help but grin like a lovesick puppy at the sight of her so relaxed and happy. He would sell his soul to be able to keep her like that. If he could have bottled her laugh and got drunk from it every night, he would have done it with no hesitation.

“I learned it back in sophomore year for the kids at the center.”

Jaemin froze. He knew the children center she used to volunteer at during high school has been a sensitive topic for her. She loved the kids there so much and dedicated a large part of her time to them. Y/N was like a big sister for all of them and a sibling bond formed between all of them. The staff there always told her she was a miracle for the young children but Y/N always shook her head and concluded that they were her guardian angels and her time at the center had always been her healing time when she felt her happiest.

Jaemin’s grin dropped as he watched Y/N. She had a dreamy look on her face. A slight smile lingered on her lips and her eyes twinkled with adoration for the fond memories. Her mask was wearing off, breaking in tiny shards, baring the girl’s true feelings to Jaemin’s eyes for the first time since Mark’s death.

He shifted closer to her and picked up a bright yellow flower, sticking it in her hair and smiling at her when she turned her head to look at him with wide surprised eyes.

“Yellow suits you”

She smiled back and continued her work with him stealing glances occasionally.

“This really sucks” She broke the silence after a while. She didn’t have to explain furthermore. Jaemin snorted.

“Tell me about it.”

“No but really. I had such high expectations of the future and this...this just isn’t it” Her voice lowered, just above a whisper.

“What is the future you dreamed of?”

“I wanted a family above all. I wanted to get married to the love of my life as cliche as that sounds. I wanted a big family with at least three kids and a few pets” she chuckled at the mere thought, him following along.

“But you do have a family. We are your family, aren’t we?”

She looked around and caught glimpses of Donghyuck and Jeno playing some dumb game they probably invented out of boredom and Renjun curled up on the armchair reading a book he had found when they first discovered the cabin. Y/N read the book too after Renjun first finished it. She found it boring, but Renjun insisted she just had no taste for the real gems out there. Y/N vaguely remembers this being the seventh time he’s absorbed in the pages of the worn out book. She could really find some resemblances between her dream family and what she already had, she definitely could.

“Now that you put it like that I guess you are..”

Jaemin was lost in thoughts for a few moments before he quickly snatched a flower and turned his back to Y/N, ignoring her questions. Barely a minute later he faced her again with a weird expression on his face.

“Give me your hand.”

She watched him a little tentatively as she slowly extended her arm. He grabbed her and quickly slid something onto her ring finger. Y/N examined it and beamed when she saw a flower twisted into a ring adorning her slim finger.

“Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” She teased him.

His face reddened, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears.

“Oh shut up. I know it’s shitty and it can’t compare to what you actually want but it’s better than nothing, right?”

She stopped his rambling with a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Jaemin”

The color of his ears darkened even more as he shrunk in his seat, toying with his fingers and a coy smile spreading on his face. They both knew she wasn’t thanking him only for the stupid ring he had made. She thanked him for being by her side and not letting her lose herself between tunnels in the twisted labyrinth of her mind. She thanked him for loving her as she is.

“You’re welcome”

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

“Jeno!”

He barely turned around before a smaller body slammed into his, sending him face first into the couch, a weight falling on top of him, a contagious laugh echoing right beside his ear, making him mimic the delightful sound.

She gripped his waist, raising him slightly to cover herself from the oncoming laughing Jaemin.

“Help me, Jeno, he’s being mean again” Y/N whined, cowering behind Jeno’s broader body.

Jeno tried to contain his laugh as he raised his hand to stop Jaemin from reaching behind him and gripping Y/N’s squirming frame.

“No can do, young man. Duration and purpose of the visit.” He tried saying in the most serious tone he could come up with, lowering his voice.

“It’s tickling payback.”

Jeno grinned at his younger friend’s words.

“Then count me in!” He exclaimed, twisting around and gripping the girl’s sides and wiggling his fingers, emitting the sound the boys loved the most in the world. Her laugh was so loud, a clear happiness brought in everyone’s hearts and a healing medicine for their souls. Jaemin leaped at the chance to tease his best friend alongside with his other best friend and for a while it seemed like everything was right, as if the world was as it should be.

Both boys tickled Y/N to no end, basking in the girl’s laugh, bringing smiles not only to their faces, but to the other two guys too who watched them fondly from the other side of the room.

“Yah, rascals! Leave the little bub alone!” Renjun playfully scolded, despite fully enjoying their little tickling session, distracting Jeno’s and Jaemin’s attention long enough for Y/N to escape their hold and dash to Renjun’s side. He engulfed her in a protective cocoon of his arms, glaring at the other boys.

“Aigoo, Renjunie, always had a soft spot for your precious princess am I right?” Donghyuck teased the older while sporting a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t be a little bitch, Hyuck-ah. Stop pretending you aren’t wrapped around her finger. You’re basically her puppy by now.”

“At least I’m cuddly and soft and she likes having me around.”

“Ah, stop spewing shit, being fat doesn’t make you more likeable.”

“What did you say?!”

“What you just heard, you fluffy pillow”

Y/N felt Renjun’s chest rumble with laughter as he fought with Donghyuck like elementary school girls or a pair of angry cats in a park lot, squishing her in the middle of them.

“Yah, let me out! Guys! Hey! Hyuck, what are you doing?” She tried to make her way out of their awkward, too energetic hug. Then, Donghyuck, wrapped his arms around her and snatched her away from Renjun, turning around and hiding her from the other’s view, smothering her.

“See, she only wants me.” He sassed, sticking his elbows backwards to softly push away Renjun, who was reaching out for the girl.

“Onlyyy meee~” He sang, kissing the top of her head. “Only your Hyuckie~” Another exaggerated *smooch* left on the crown of her head as he swayed her from side to side with Renjun laughing at the ridiculous scene Donghyuck was making and side eyeing Jaemin who was dreamily staring at the pair before Jeno slapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You know, you’re absolutely whipped, dude.” Jeno whispered in his ear, smirking at his friend’s poor try of covering his feelings.

“What? No, it’s just..I haven’t seen her like that for a while.”

“It’s nice isn’t it?”

“Of course it’s nice. It’s always nice to see a friend recovering and acting like themselves again.”

Jeno called bullshit.

“Dude don’t try this with me. You should just tell her, it’ll make things easier for everyone, honestly.”

“Tell her what?”

Tell her that she’s the most amazing person he’s ever met and that she doesn’t deserve any of this thrown into her face? That without her none of them would have made it this far, especially himself? That she’s the last thing he thinks about before falling asleep and the first when he wakes up? Tell her he’s madly, irrevocably in love with their guardian angel?

Jeno just sighed, as if being able to read Jaemin’s thoughts. He patted the younger’s shoulder, before running to Y/N and sweeping her out of Donghyuck’s arms and into his own, throwing himself on the armchair with her on top. He cuddled her, squeezing her tight to him, enjoying the long lost feeling of holding one of his most precious people so close.

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

‘Keep calm and quiet, find the others whenever uneasiness sets in’

Jeno knew the rules better than anyone, but he couldn’t help the strange feeling drowning his heart in fear. He had no real reason to be afraid or alarm the others, he was just paranoid because of a bad feeling he’s been having since the beginning of their run in a nearby village for food.

He gripped his handgun tighter, his hearing heightened. He was walking carefully, barely putting any pressure as the soles of his shoes touched the creaky floor. His eyes darted around the living room he was in, checking the windows and the front door from time to time. There was really nothing out of the ordinary, but he was unusually tense that particular day.

“I will be damned if I let this madness get to my head” he muttered to himself while quickly looking through a drawer. A sigh left his lips as he straightened up after finding nothing useful. He rolled up his shoulders in hopes of relieving the tension that crumpled him like a piece of thin paper.

The others weren’t even far. Donghyuck was upstairs, rummaging through the bedrooms. Renjun was in the garage with Jaemin and Y/N was in the backyard. But everything was just so silent, it almost seemed like time has stopped. Jeno could almost hear the blood pumping through his veins and the irregular beating of his heart.

‘Maybe I should go find someone, better a coward than dead.”

Just as that thought invaded his head, he heard the faint sound of a door opening. The long moan it emitted froze Jeno’s entire body. He swiftly hid himself behind a corner, holding his breath. He prayed Donghyuck would remain silent. He could hear footsteps slowly walking towards his, the old floor slightly bending beneath the intruder.

Jeno’s index finger hovered above the cold trigger of the gun, waiting for the right moment to make his move. He had to be quick and finish it with one shot. He couldn’t afford wasting any more bullets seeing as they were already low on ammo. The creaking was nearing his spot, it was so close now and Jeno was turning purple from the lack of oxygen. He even forgot how to breathe from the horrible waiting he had to endure.

Just one more second.

The moment the last creak resounded against the dirty walls of the house, Jeno’s body swirled around and his finger pushed the trigger without hesitation.

He froze in place. The breath he just inhaled was knocked out of him as his hold on his gun slackened, letting the heavy object fall to the floor. The deafening sound the shot created covered his broken cry as he rushed forward and dropped to his knees beside her fallen body.

He just shot his friend, his best friend. He shot Y/N.

“No no no, this can’t be happening! Y/N come on, I’m so sorry please!”

He couldn’t stop the salty tears trailing down his cheeks as he pressed his hands over the wound in her chest. She didn’t even have enough time to let out a scream or move out of the way.

“Jeno, why..?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I just... I-”

“Jeno?” Renjun’s voice echoed.

“Renjun! Renjun, help! Help please!” Jeno begged his friend.

As soon as Renjun laid his eyes over Y/N he rushed forward towards them, crouching besides them and removing Jeno’s hands from the girl’s wound before quickly covering it himself. He was no specialist, but he knew enough to be able to tell that Y/N was in serious trouble.

“Fuck, what the fuck happened, Jeno?”

“I don’t know, I thought she was- I don’t know Renjunie, please just do something, please..” He cried in such a heartbreaking way that it brought tears to Renjun’s eyes too. Jeno carded his bloody hands through his hair and over his face in such a raw desperation. They couldn’t lose her. Not like this, not at all.

“Jaemin-ah...Where’s Jaemin?” Y/N barely got the words out. Even when going through such pain, she asked for Jaemin, as if she could take everything away and mend her in a blink. But he couldn’t.

“He’ll be here in a second, baby, just try to keep your eyes open, okay? Breathe in and out, follow me.”

Renjun leaned her head on one side as a thin stream of blood trailed out of her mouth. His entire body was shaking and his heart was clenching. Jeno was curled up, sobbing and Renjun was a moment away from knocking him out. Sounds of hurried steps followed by the backdoor opening barely switched Renjun’s attention from Y/N to the other two boys arriving at the scene.

Donghyuck froze as soon as he saw Y/N’s small body crumpled to the floor, her skin and lips becoming paler as every second passed and crimson blood staining her clothes and spreading across her chest. Her lips were parted as it became hard for her to breathe properly. Her eyes were slightly unfocused but somehow they calmed Renjun down, they anchored him down to Earth the same way they lulled everyone in an eerie sensation night after night as she listened to their worries and remembered the good old days together. They still held their warmth, even in those moments.

Something in Jaemin broke at the sight of Y/N. In a fraction of a second he pushed Jeno away and smothered Y/N’s hair out of her face while his other hand tightly gripped onto one of hers. His eyes barely looked over her wound for a second without retching his guts out. He looked into her eyes as if he found his world again with all of the stars that shined through the dark sky, as if he saw them again for the first time. But his face was contorted with hopelessness despite his try to mask it.

“Y/N, I’m here, you’ll be okay, do you hear me? Y/N!”

As if in a lost moment of sanity, her eyes found his and Jaemin felt like he found home. A warm home with no pain or sadness where he could be himself and love as hard as he could.

“Jaemin” She gasped out his name and it sounded like the last ounce of light in her life, saved by her hero, a lifeline keeping her from drowning before she could get rid of her main regret.

“Yes baby, I’m here. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and neither are you ,hear me Y/N? You’re not leaving me, we didn’t come up to this point just so you can fucking give up” he chocked on his words as his voice broke under the pressure of the world, his world vanishing under his fingertips “You can’t Y/N. You can’t, please...”

He wanted to scream, to clench his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to watch the light leave her eyes. But he knew he couldn’t afford losing a second with her.

“Oh God, no”

Jaemin could hear Donghyuck’s whimpers and his begging for this to be only a cruel nightmare and Jeno’s sobs as he teared at his hair. He didn’t miss Renjun shaking his head in despair when he locked eyes with Donghyuck who collapsed a few feet away from them.

Y/N’s hand lifted slightly. It was barely a flinch, but Jaemin didn’t need anything more. He gripped her cold hand and brought it to his wet cheek as he gave her a weak smile. The corners of her lips curled weakly as another trail of blood left her lips. Jaemin had to choke back a sob as he leaned down, closer to his first and last love.

“I...love you” the silence was deafening, no one could move a muscle. Her half closed eyes moved from Jaemin’s cloudy ones and racked over the rest of her small family almost blissfully “..all..”

And that was all. Her eyes closed and her body fell limp. Their souls hit rock bottom, the bottom of the darkest and deepest oceans where hope had no way of growing and their nightmares became reality. Monsters were real and they ate away at them with such hunger it wasn’t in their power to stop them and neither did they have the motivation to try. They had no guardian angel for she had gone home, away from such cruelty.

“I love you. I love you more than a sunflower loves the sun, more than a bird loves its freedom, I just love you”

Jaemin knew it was too late, far too late and his hidden confession fell on deaf ears, only the wind could hear his hopeless love and whisper it to the moon which would cry with him at night, They’d cry for their lost lover, one they couldn’t get back. She slipped through his fingers like sand and her warmth vanished, leaving him in a cold, lonely hell.

The next minutes were a blur, the way his mind went blank as he jumped at Jeno, letting out his anger on the boy who couldn’t feel anything anyway. The anger who was actually directed to himself for being a coward, for leaving such regret behind. The way Renjun gathered Y/N in his arms, cradling her like a mother to her child, almost like comforting her “It’s okay now, it’s over”, words which only comforted himself. The way Donghyuck found her flower ring in her pocket and shakily slipped it over her finger. She had her ring, a brutal irony to the broken promise that shattered in a million tiny pieces and pierced their hearts until there was nothing left of them.

The way home was silent, the longest journey and the last with their fallen angel. Jaemin insisted on carrying her all the way, despite his unstable form. He kept talking to her in a whisper, as if he was spilling his secrets hurriedly to his best friend before parting for a while.

Lowering her into her place of rest was exhausting. Exhausting for their numb souls, shells of what they used to be, shells in which the desperate echoes of the sea resounded with pleas of turning back time. Their tears left tracks which burned their skin with ashes of crushed wings.

Night came and they each battled their demons which slashed and screamed at them in their own minds, but Jaemin couldn’t. He couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t watch their home : the couch where they shared parts of themselves, the carpet where they laid surrounded by laughs, the window she always stared out, like a caged bird, because that’s what she felt like. A bird locked into a living nightmare, trapped with demons and lost children.

So he left. He packed a bag, in the silence of the night. He packed his memories and her only trace, a flower crown, wilted, resembling himself. Jaemin stopped by her. He crouched down and looked toward the sky where he knew she was finding her home, a proper one where all she felt was serenity. They would meet again, in a better world and with a better him. But for now, he was left alone, with the moon as his only listener. He traced the words engraved on the stone over her one last time before bidding goodbye to his lover.

“Only love can save us”

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

Y/N's eyes snapped open. Her entire body felt so heavy, as if tons of bricks dragged her down. The lights in the room blinded her and she had to struggle to be able to open her eyes properly. It took a while before she was able to prop herself up on a shaky elbow, looking around the almost empty room.

She was surrounded by white. The walls were as monotone as the rhythmic beeps coming from the IV connected to her right arm. What was happening?

She remembered everything vividly, her life, with both good and bad moments, spent with her best friends. She could remember the butterflies fluttering in her stomach whenever Jaemin touched her or the warm feeling spreading through her chest at the mere thought of her boys. But she could also remember her blood soaking her clothes and her friends' hands as she took her last breath. Was everything just a dream turned into a nightmare?

A loud bang resounded around the room and the door snapped against the wall. Y/N flinched as the strength in her arm was barely enough to hold her upper body up. She barely looked up before she froze in place, confusion and shook seeping deep into her bones. A messy head of black hair slipped inside and towards her with almost inhumane speed as firm arms wrapped around her body and pressed her against his warm chest. It hardly registered in her brain who was hugging her so tightly, almost leaving Y/N out of breath. She inhaled his familiar scent, finally having the most desired feeling : that she was finally home.

Reality or not, she finally had him back, she finally had Mark back. She was so drunk in her happiness she didn't even hear him thanking any deity that the brought his Y/n back to him, along the lines letting out the sentence that would change their life forever.

"... you're finally out of the simulator"

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