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lightwing-s · 4 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

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cobaltperun · 5 months

Text

Lost (8) - Collect Call

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 8.6k

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-Wishing you could keep me closer, I'm a lazy dancer when you move, I move with you-

Woodsboro was a small place, frankly, you were amazed it even had a proper gym, even if it wasn’t as well-equipped as you would prefer. Still, it had a punching bag, plenty of space to do push-ups, you could run, do pull-ups, lift wights, the basics were there, and you easily spent four to five hours in it a day, sometimes more. In fact, you just completed a two-hour work-out and were in the process of taking your gloves off.

Life moves on, no matter how hard you wish to stop it at times. Right now, however, you eagerly accepted the passage of time, after all, the sooner what Amber and Richie did became left in the past the better, especially for Tara.

It's been almost three weeks since Tara was first attacked and for the most part, everything was returning back to normal. The wounds healed, well, aside from Tara's broken leg, that would take some time, but the scars remained, with two being more prominent than others, the stab through Tara's left hand and the slash that went horizontally just beneath the right side of your jawline. Other stabs and gunshots left their own scars, but those were easy to cover with clothes. Thus, you caught Tara's regretful gaze checking your scar out. Not that you blamed her, you glanced at her own scar every now and then. You still caught yourself wondering if there was anything you could have done to keep her safe, to prevent the first attack. The answer was always a definitive ‘no’ but you still wondered.

The Babadook theme rang almost immediately after you put your gloves in your bag and wiped the sweat off your face and hands with your towel, and you eagerly answered. "Hey, Snuggle Bear," you said teasingly before taking a sip from your water bottle. Damn, you missed having these phone calls with Tara while she was with Amber, and from the looks of it she had every intention to make up for the lost calls.

"As if you're not as much of a snuggle bear as I am," she teased back, though there was a bit of nervousness in her tone. You’d leave that for when you met up.

With a broad smile on your face you faked sighing in defeat. "You caught me, only with you though," there was a small pause once you said that.

"Exactly the way it should be," Tara set the boundaries, your boundaries to be precise. Possessive little snuggle bear. Granted, considering what those cuddles and snuggles included you couldn't say you blamed her for being like that. "Anyway, don't forget to pick me up in an hour," you stopped for a moment. Tara didn't have a check-up today. Hell, her next check up wasn’t until next week.

"Huh?" you were trying to think of the reason for picking her up. You didn't make any plans. Not that you minded abruptly spending time with Tara, but you were still a bit confused.

"Y/N," Tara groaned your name and you could hear her head hitting the pillow. "Your results are in. For your heart. Remember?" oh, that was today, well, at least that explained why she sounded a bit nervous before. She was anxious about the results. Damn, you, on the other hand, managed to forget all that. Your heart felt fine, so you kinda stopped being worried.

"Right, I'll come pick you up in an hour," you reassured her and began packing your stuff as you exchanged goodbyes with Tara.

Almost an hour later you parked in front of Tara's house and knocked several times. You could hear shuffling inside the house, and then there was some stumbling until the doors finally opened and a very drunk Christina Carpenter leaned against the doors, a bottle of whatever alcohol she was currently drinking in hand.

"Y-" she hiccuped and you could smell the alcohol even if you were over a dozen of feet away from her, let alone right in front of her. "Y/N, how you doing?" well, at least she could form some kind of sentence, even if her words were slurred.

"Good. Is Tara upstairs," you sure hoped she was because you didn't trust the drunk in front of you to help her down the stairs and Sam was out at the moment, probably covering someone's shift to earn enough to get by.

"Tara?" you felt a vein popping on your forehead. "She's not with you?" your blood would have run cold at that if anyone else said it.

"Please let me in," you did your best to be as gentle and polite as you possibly could. You knew the consequences of confronting Christina well enough. The last time you did it took a month and a rather expensive bottle of whiskey to let you back into her house.

"Hmm? Sure, suuuree," she stumbled to the side, and you quickly went up the stairs before she could try to continue the conversation.

You reached Tara's room and knocked.

"Come in," you heard Tara's voice from the other side of the doors. She sounded frustrated.

"Hey, you okay?" you came in and saw the issue. She was struggling with her jeans.

Tara laughed uneasily and just gave up, falling back on her bed and spreading her arms in defeat. "Shit, am I late?" she asked, a bit out of breath.

You offered her a smile and knelt in front of her to help her. You began pulling the jeans over her cast as she sat up, her breath hitching as you pulled her jeans up to the middle of her thighs. You stood up and put your arms around her waist so you could lift Tara up. That way she could pull her jeans up all the way and finish getting dressed. You smiled slightly when you felt her leaning her forehead on your shoulder, still embarrassed by how often she had to rely on you or Sam for even the simplest tasks. You didn’t think anyone could get as red as she did the first time you helped her take a shower. Not that you were unaffected, you just managed to separate doing something out of need and out of want, and that was a need, not a want for Tara. "Nope, I got here early," you reassured her, leaning to the side to kiss the top of her head, you always knew Tara was touchy, and that she craved physical touch and affection, but it only intensified after the attack. "Ready now?"

Tara nodded as she pulled away, she picked up her handbag and put her arm around your neck as you lifted her up. "Think we can avoid mom?" she asked as you stepped outside her room.

"She's probably still at the doors, so unlikely," you sighed. It wasn't the first time Tara was uncomfortable about her mom seeing the two of you together, but there was something different about the way she worriedly looked away from you. "Did she say something?"

"Just another fight with Sam, well, another Sam just taking it and mom screaming at her," Tara explained and took a deep breath. "Sorry, you're worried about your results and I'm complaining about my family," she apologized making you nudge her lightly with your head.

"Hey, none of that, or do I need to remind you I forgot about the results? Besides, we support each other, right?" you reminded her as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

Tara looked away. "It feels one-sided lately," she whispered so quietly you nearly didn't hear it. You were certain she didn't intend for you to hear it, so you just pulled her a tiny bit closer. You'd eventually have to talk about all the feelings that remained unresolved, but it didn't feel like today was the right day.

Luckily Christina wasn’t at the hall, you guess she went somewhere else to drink, and Tara seemed to relax a bit due to that, but she was still tense, even as you set her down on the passenger seat.

As you drove to the hospital your mind raced in the other direction. You wouldn't say Tara has been difficult ever since what happened, hell, given what she went through, you thought she was handling things better than most people would. However, there were definitely more difficult moments, especially after she learned she would never have full use of her left hand again. She struggled to keep a firm grip on anything smaller than a cup or heavier than half a pound, not to mention reduced mobility and occasional cramps.

Mood swings, while understandable, were abrupt and immediately noticeable, which, you guessed, was to be expected. Something would trigger Tara, and it would be as if a switch got flipped. All Sam and you could do was remain patient with her. Neither of you could say you knew exactly what Tara was thinking, she refused to talk, but there was a pattern you recognized.

Christina screaming at Sam? Mood swing.

Sam being gone for too long? Mood swing.

Anyone mentioning Amber? Being reminded of Amber? Mood swing and a half.

Tara being unable to do something for herself due to her leg? The worst mood swing of them all.

Combination of any of those? Or all of them? Not fun. Currently, you were dealing with a combination of the first and fourth, perhaps the second as well, depending on when Tara last saw Sam.

Sam also told you that being away from you, caused just as big, if not even bigger mood swings, during which it wouldn’t take long to irritate Tara into an angry outburst. You, personally, didn’t deal with angry outbursts, Tara would get annoyed, or alternatively possessive and/or jealous, but you wouldn’t describe it as angry outbursts.

You stopped at the red light, a few more minutes and you'd reach the hospital.

"Y/N," the softness of her voice calmed you down, it let you know she was gradually getting less irritated.

"Yeah?" you allowed yourself a quick look at her, before turning your attention back to the road.

"I've been difficult lately, I'm sorry," that caught you off guard for a moment.

"I'd rather have you expressing everything you're feeling than the opposite. Both Sam and I will be here, no matter what, so be difficult if it helps," the lights switched to green and you drove for a bit before parking the car in the first open parking spot, still a bit away from the hospital. You turned in your seat, looking at Tara with utmost seriousness. "But, if at some point it stops helping, talk to us about that too. Just don't try to deal with it alone, rely on us."

What else could you tell her? This soon after everything happened? You were sure Sam told her something similar at least once a day, you told her as often as you could. There was no way to tell if it was reaching Tara or not. A shaky breath fell from her lips and Tara turned away from you. "We'll be late," so you drove once again, choosing not to push or force the conversation further than she was ready to accept it.

By the time you were inside the hospital, with you sitting across from the doctor and Tara standing on her crutches next to you, you could only see the worry in her eyes. The irritation, the frustrations, it all vanished now that you were waiting to hear the results.

"Good news, miss L/N," you noticed Tara visibly relaxing. "The heart attack was due to extreme circumstances. According to the tests your heart is a textbook example of healthy. You've got a long MMA career ahead of you with these results," oof, that one wasn't going to age well. You couldn't help but chuckle at that. If only the good doctor in front of you knew...

Tara, overwhelmed with relief and happiness flung her arms around you, causing you to quickly get up so she wouldn't hurt her leg. "Oh, thank goodness," she trembled in your arms as she, over the top happy as she currently was kissed your cheek several times. There was no way the corners of your lips didn’t touch a few times with how she was kissing you and you had to resist the urge to kiss her properly. It was getting more difficult though. Every time she looked you in the eyes a bit longer than she used to, every time she pressed up against you more than it was necessary, every time her lips lingered on your cheek, you had to control yourself and hold the need to kiss her back.

You worried it was too early for her to jump into another relationship, especially given what happened with Amber. "Easy, Tara," you laughed and offered a quick apology to the doctor.

"It's all good," he raised his hands. "I get it. Get out though, other patients are waiting," he chuckled and handed you Tara's crutches that had fallen to the floor.

Still, with Tara this happy, and with a movie night scheduled tonight at the twins' place, you figured nothing could cause another mood swing.

Famous last words, as some would say.

~X~

When you brought Tara back to her house and left her in her room once again, she caught herself glancing at the calendar on her phone. It's been three months now. With some trouble, she went over to the desk in her room and pulled out a box. She went back to her bed and got comfortable before opening it. The necklace inside was her favorite piece of jewelry. Simple at first glance with its round pendant, but the details were intricate and required a closer look to be seen. She traced the round patterns and the small sapphire in the middle with her fingertips, smiling as she remembered what you did back then.

~X~

It was in April 2020, it was a Saturday and you, quite easily, convinced Tara to come with you to another town, one, as you said, better equipped to handle what you wanted to do. You said you needed her help, and it wasn't until you were sitting in a confectionery store that you told her what you needed to do.

"So, there's a girl," she immediately froze when you opened with that. "I really care about her, and her birthday is coming up, and I wanted to get her something, I guess, a bit more, uh something. I thought about getting her a necklace, but I don't know anything about all that stuff."

Tara found it difficult to swallow the piece of cake she mistakenly put in her mouth before you spoke up. She still smiled, even if it didn't reach her eyes. "So, you thought I could help you?" she despised how her voice nearly gave her away when she started talking.

You just rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. "I'd appreciate it."

"Do you, uh, do you really care about her?" she couldn't bring herself to ask if you were in love. The way your eyes brightened was enough of an answer without verbal confirmation.

"I do," not a moment of hesitation. Tara felt jealousy consuming her. She felt regret at not saying anything to you. She wanted to yell at you that you weren't being fair, but how could she do that when you looked so happy just thinking about that girl.

How amazing did that girl have to be to get that reaction out of you? She tried to keep her face at least neutral, even as her emotions spiraled out of control, self-doubt consuming her. She dared to hope that maybe, at some point, you might start seeing her as more than just a friend, but now she doubted that would ever happen. It would be too good to be true after all.

"Let's go then," neither one of you was done with the cakes, but she wanted, no, needed to get this over with. She'd help to the best of her abilities, but she wanted to be quick about it.

You blinked a few times, but didn’t say anything. You must have noticed her mood dropping though, because you placed an arm around her shoulders for a brief moment and smiled at her.

You got to the store, and she looked around, wondering if she could really do it. "What did you want me to do, exactly?" she asked.

"Uh, look around and find the one that catches your eye the most? Let's say as if you were choosing something for yourself?" you looked around, completely out of place. Tara guessed you really never had the time to figure something like this out, with all the training and fighting, and now a job as a cook, you simply didn't have time.

So, going as far as to ask for Tara's help, not to mention taking an entire day off from everything, really made her envious of that mysterious girl of yours. How far were you going to go for that girl if you were taking a day off for a gift? What if she likes you back and you start dating? Who was she kidding with that last thought? That girl would have to be crazy not to like you back. It wasn't just jealousy over that, it went further, to how it would affect your friendship when your already limited free time got occupied by another girl.

So, to keep her mind off those possibilities Tara turned to her task. "What's your budget?" she asked absentmindedly.

"I didn't really consider it. Don't look at the price," were you being serious now?

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Tara asked in a hushed whisper, she knew how careful you were with money, yet here you were, acting like you’d spend a small fortune if needed.

"Buying a gift?" you didn't seem affected by the prices in the store. Well, if you weren't going to care, then Tara would do it for you.

"Welcome, is there anything I can help you with?" a woman interrupted the two of you and Tara gave her a tight-lipped smile. She didn't seem to mind as she began showing the two of you different pieces of jewelry.

Tara considered a ring or a bracelet, but her eyes kept going back to one necklace in particular. Simple, golden, necklace with a beautiful circular design on the pendant and a tiny sapphire in the middle of it. You seemed to catch that, and Tara had long since noticed you weren't paying attention to the jewelry as much as her reactions to them.

"Could you maybe try it? You know, to see if it's comfortable?" you sheepishly asked and Tara sighed, that ugly jealousy increasing tenfold. Did you really have to buy that girl one thing that genuinely caught her eye? And to make it even worse it fit her like a glove.

"Thanks," you looked almost mesmerized at the sight of the necklace around her neck.

"Mhm. Lucky girl," she swallowed down those feelings as your eyes met.

"I'm the lucky one," the tiniest bit of raspiness in your voice as you whispered those words sent a shiver down her spine.

With the necklace paid for the two of you went back to Woodsboro. As payback she made you watch The Babadook and Hereditary back to back. You never mentioned the girl again. She asked what her reaction was, you just shrugged. She asked to meet her, you gave vague excuses not to. No matter what she asked, or how she approached the conversation you remained tightlipped about it. You still had that look of absolute adoration in your eyes when you talked about her and Tara just couldn't take it, so she stopped asking.

Eventually, by the middle of November, she couldn't keep it in anymore. Amber really, really disliked you, and telling her about what happened would only make it worse. Mindy would tease her, so she couldn't go to Mindy either. You were obviously not an option, so, she was really left with the worst possible option.

"I don't know what to do, mom," she lamented when she told her mother the story. She was fairly certain half of what she said was already forgotten by the half-drunk woman.

"That's bad," her mom said, looking straight through Tara with her hazy eyes. "Girl's parents are rich, when she sobers up from her rebellious phase, she'll go back to them and all that money will go to her," Tara felt like vomiting as her mother hiccupped and gulped down another glass of wine. "It's not like they have other kids."

Your parents were rich. There was no denying that, but to think that was why her mother was so supportive of her friendship with you. Tara felt sick. She barely kept her breathing under control and as subtly as she could used her inhaler.

"You clung too hard Tara, and she got sick of it. Keep doing that and people will abandon you again," with tears in her eyes Tara ran outside, clutching her inhaler and phone to her chest. It wasn't the first time her mom had said something like that, that she clung too hard and that it was the reason Sam and her dad left her.

She couldn't call you. She couldn't be that clingy. Instead, she ran until her lungs burned, which, admittedly, wasn't too far. Tara gasped for air, trying to calm down and avoid an asthma attack. This wasn't the time or the place, but the cold air made everything more difficult. Almost out of the blue, she began shivering, only now realizing she wasn't exactly dressed for the cold, she was in her pajama shorts and T-shirt and only had slippers on her feet, not to mention she was disoriented, cold, and out of breath.

"Tara, sweetie?" a voice she barely recognized called her name and she abruptly raised her head to see none other than the lady that owned the restaurant you worked in. A middle-aged woman with hair seemingly permanently in a bun and a kind face that made working with customers seem easy. Tara didn't really catch her or her husband's name.

"What are you doing out at this hour and dressed like that?" the woman quickly wrapped Tara in her coat. "Dear Lord, you're freezing," Tara looked down, ashamed of being caught in this state. "Let's go inside," only then did Tara realize she somehow stumbled to the restaurant you worked in.

"N-No, I'm fine," she tried to refuse, her mother's words echoing in her mind.

"Y/N will go crazy if I leave you like this, come on so I don't have to get scolded by my own employee," she guessed she couldn't argue with that. She knew you, if she refused and left, and the woman told you about it, you’d start looking for Tara and then Tara would feel even worse.

The lady took her through the front doors, through the small restaurant with nice wooden tables and into the kitchen where Tara saw you wrapping up the cleaning. The kitchen was still warm and she gave the coat back to your boss. The woman was reluctant to take it, but seeing the look in Tara's eyes as she watched your back made your boss take the coat back.

"Y/N," her voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet somehow you heard her and whipped around almost as if you couldn't believe your own ears.

"Tara?!" your jaw dropped as you saw her. Immediately you dropped what you were doing and pulled her as close to you as possible. Tara didn't know if it was instinct or habit, but whichever it was it took over and she clung to you as if her life depended on it, gripping the back of your uniform and taking all of you in, the warmth of your body, your scent mixed with the smell of the kitchen and all the food you made tonight, the feel of your muscles underneath your clothes, she took it all in. "Shit, you're freezing," you turned to your boss, looking for answers.

“I don’t know, I just saw her outside,” your boss raised her hands while Tara kept shivering in your arms.

“I owe you one,” you turned your attention back to Tara and picked her up by her waist. You went over to your hoodie hanging in the back and gave it to Tara the moment you lowered her back down.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Tara whispered and let go of you just enough to put the hoodie on.

“Hey, it’s okay,” your smile warmed her up as you took your white uniform off, leaving you only in a plain red T-shirt. The moment that was done Tara went right back to hugging you. Just for a bit longer, she told herself, just until the words her mother spoke became less loud. Just until she was certain you didn't mind. Then she let you go, only to feel you pulling her into your side and leading her outside through the back doors.

"Thanks! I'll make up for this tomorrow!" she heard you hollering as you took her straight to your apartment.

By the time the two of you were in your apartment, Tara was calm, for the most part. You set your priorities straight, cranking the heating up to the max and getting Tara to lie down in your bed to warm up quicker. You even tucked her in, wrapping her in your blankets. Only then did you send a message to her mother. Tara frowned at that. As if her mother cared.

"What happened?" you finally sat down on the sofa next to the bed and Tara wasn't sure what to tell you. She didn’t know how to even approach the topic, how to tell you what she was feeling and what caused her to run from home like that.

"Am I too clingy? Does it bother you?" she eventually blurted out before she could change her mind.

Your eyes widened at that. "It could never bother me, Tara," you assured her, your eyes carefully studying her. "Where did you get that idea?"

Tara sat up in your bed, now feeling warm, for more than one reason. "Mom said I clung too hard, and you got sick of it," Tara just admitted it, she wouldn't tell you what made her mother say that, but she figured she should tell you what made her run from her house like that. "Then she said people will keep abandoning me and I got emotional, so I ran. I didn't even realize where I was."

You clenched your fists and Tara could see barely contained anger in your eyes. "Of course, it was your damn mother," you growled, leaning back and glaring at the ceiling. “Why don’t you just come and live with me once you turn eighteen?”

It wasn’t the first time you asked that question and Tara wanted that, she wanted that so damn much, but she knew you were saving money for the future, and that you would have to get a bigger apartment if she started living with you. Even if you started sleeping together, which, given you were just friends, might become a bit weird over time, she wondered how the rest of living together would work. And then there were your fights… Frankly, Tara didn’t know if she had the strength to see your bruises after fights, even if everything else was fine.

“I… I don’t think it would work,” she gave you that same answer and at first you assured her you’d make it work, and she’d just tell you she was fine in her house.

“Tara,” you sighed, and she could see the complaint at the tip of your tongue.

"Especially since you will have less time for me," Tara finally opened up about what had been bothering her since April.

"What?" you suddenly sounded confused, the question of Tara moving in forgotten for the time being.

"The girl? The one you bought that necklace for. You'll have less time when you get together with her," she explained, not sure why you didn't get that. You were usually more than aware of how much time you could spare on what. Even if you told her your friendship wouldn't suffer because of your love life, she honestly couldn't believe that. And she knew she couldn’t see you hugging and kissing that girl, or any other girl, so the more serious the relationship got the less she’d see you. And she dreaded that thought, she hated how it made her feel like maybe there was some truth in what Amber was saying.

"Is that what you've been worried about?" you asked and moved to kneel on the floor next to her.

Tara just nodded, not trusting her voice right now.

You sighed and reached for the nightstand drawer. Tara's eyes widened when she saw the same box you got from that jewelry store. "There's no girl, Tara, the necklace is for you," you opened the box and looked her in the eyes, almost silently begging for permission. When she, too shocked to say or do anything, just kept looking from the necklace to your eyes you took that as enough of a permission to put it around her neck.

It still fit her like it was made for her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine when your fingers brushed against her neck. "What did you say?" her throat was dry all of a sudden.

You smiled sheepishly, pulling your hands away from her neck. "It was meant to be a gift for your eighteenth birthday, and I really don't know shit about jewelry, so the only way I could find something good would be to, you know, trick you into choosing your own gift like eight months in advance," at least you looked embarrassed.

Tara still couldn't believe what was happening, too speechless to even react. So, you took that as a sign to keep talking.

"I'd rather ruin the surprise than let you worry about something like this. For what it's worth, I didn't think you'd think there could ever be a girl that could take your place. Hell, I was scared you'd see right through me," you chuckled a bit and took her hand. "Please say something," you pleaded, and she pulled you into a hug.

"You're crazy, you know? What were you thinking spending all that money on me, hmm?" she felt tears running down her cheeks. You, damn, dumbass she was so hopelessly in love with.

"Yeah, you kinda make it hard to think clearly," you teased, and she jokingly gave you a light smack on the back.

"I love it," she relented, knowing better than to argue with you about this. "Thanks, Y/N," she muttered into your neck wishing she had the courage to just move up and kiss you.

~X~

Tara smiled as she remembered all that. She spent the night, sleeping right next to you, not quite as close as she did over the past few weeks, but back then it didn't matter. It wasn't the first time the two of you slept like that, but it didn't happen that often, especially in your bed. So, back then she cherished the nights that would end like that. A plan formed in her head, she hadn't worn your necklace over the past three months, due to Amber's jealousy, or well, what she thought was jealousy. So, it was about time to correct that.

~X~

When you arrived at Chad and Mindy’s house, you found Sam on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

"Before you ask, I'm trying to quit," Sam said as you reached her and leaned back against the fence. You just raised your hands, understanding it wasn't the easiest task. As long as she didn't smoke anywhere near Tara you honestly didn't mind.

"You know, I don't think I'll ever miss Woodsboro, but you can't deny the sky is beautiful at night," you pointed out as you looked up over your shoulder.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sam nodding. "Can I ask you something about you and Tara?"

You met her eyes, slightly confused as to why she'd ask you instead of Tara. "Sure."

"Do you know? How she feels?" it was a question that could make or break your relationship with Sam.

"That she loves me? Yeah, I've known since she was sixteen," you admitted. "Her eyes are just so expressive, you know? I can see the way she looks at me. I know the way she clings to me isn't exactly friendly either," the looks, the lingering touches, the apparent need Tara had to just stay as close to you as she physically could ever since she was attacked… You noticed it all. Truth be told, you and Tara had always been touchy with each other. Whether you were carrying her on your back when you were kids, or she just randomly hugged you and wouldn’t let go until she was content throughout your entire friendship, or falling asleep next to each other and eventually watching a movie while cuddling, sure, you guessed some friends did that, but all things considered you couldn’t deny that Tara was in love with you, or that you were in love with her.

Sam clenched her fist. "And you?"

You looked at her as if she suddenly grew another head. "Seriously? That's a question? I love her, Sam."

Sam relaxed at that, at least a bit. "What's stopping you then?"

You looked away from her and back to the night sky. "It was never the right moment. I figured it out a bit before I turned eighteen, but I was about to leave my parents. Then I had to find the balance between MMA, work, and everything else I now needed to handle on my own. I just wouldn't be able to be what she needed in a relationship," not to mention Tara was sixteen at the time, well, sixteen and a half, but you didn’t want to rush her into a relationship until she was ready. Until she knew what she wanted and needed in a partner, you wanted it to work, and it felt like waiting a few years was the best way to make sure it would work, and not fall apart because you were still too young to know what you wanted.

The circumstances were much different now, though. Age kinda wasn’t a factor anymore, not after what the two of you, and especially Tara, went through.

Sam nodded, apparently understanding your reasoning. "And now she went through a traumatic experience, and you want to give her time to heal?" Sam was spot on. Now you were sure you and Tara would work, but between what happened and the way Tara was handling it, you didn't think it was the right time to get together. That being said, you doubted you had it in you to resist if, say, a kiss was about to happen.

"If something happened I think I couldn't fight it, but I'm not going to pursue anything right now," you admitted and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

"Oh, yeah, Tara is waiting for you in the guest room. Apparently, she has something to ask you," Sam's statement puzzled you. You and Tara already spent plenty of time together today. Couldn't she ask before?

"Thanks, Sam," you got inside and found Chad and Mindy in the living room trying to decide which movie to watch. "Hey," Tara's question could wait a minute or two. You approached the twins and gave them a quick hug. "How are you?"

"Doing better," Mindy shrugged, grinning a bit, even though you could see her subconsciously reaching for her chest where Amber stabbed her, it was a miracle she survived. It was a miracle either of the two of them survived, and you could see that night haunting them in the way their eyes lost that childlike innocence they had before this all happened. Other than Tara the rest of your friends had normal childhoods, parents that were normal, that cared for them, they were never abandoned, and now, completely out of nowhere, a close friend tried to kill them and killed Wes and Liv. They would never be as trusting as they were, and you couldn’t blame them. "You know how it goes, we're all dealing with it one way or another," she said, for once choosing not to be snarky or sarcastic.

You nodded. Hoping the answer was honest because, as much as it hurt to admit, you didn't have it in you to fully be there for anyone else.

"Chad?" he was in a rather special situation, seeing as Liv was his girlfriend. You heard from Tara Liv's parents didn't take it well when he tried to talk to them. He dragged her into that mess, they said. It wasn’t fair, but in their grief and anger and no one left to pay and suffer for their daughter’s death, the only target left was Chad. There was a chance Tara would have been the target of their rage as well, seeing as she did introduce Liv to the rest of the group, but they just never had the chance to take their anger out on Tara.

"Hanging in there. Going back to practice has been helping to get my mind off of things," the only one who visibly took all of this worse than Chad was Tara. For a moment you wondered if Tara would be able to handle it better if she wasn't stuck in one place pretty much all day.

You patted Chad's shoulder. "If you ever want to spar, or train together, you have my number," and you most definitely would train with Chad if he asked.

"I'll keep it in mind Champ," he smiled slightly. "Tara's waiting for you," he gestured upstairs and you nodded, leaving the two to find Tara.

“Second door to the right!” Mindy added as you began climbing up the stairs.

“Thanks!” it was a testament to how rarely you visited their place. If the times you came to pick Tara up were excluded you were fairly sure you could count all the times you spent time in this house on your hands. In all the years you’ve known the twins. As kids you just used to spend time in the park, or at the school playground, afterwards Tara’s house became the usual place to hang out, and by the time you turned eighteen half the time it was just you and Tara anyway.

When you found Tara she was sitting on the bed, with a box in her hands. It looked like a jewelry box? "Hey, what's up?"

Tara blushed slightly. "Uh, could you open this box?" she offered it to you.

You tilted your head in confusion but still took the box. You remained on your feet, in front of Tara, not entirely sure if you'd need to move right away. Things became even more confusing when you opened the box. You recognized the necklace immediately and you looked at Tara, a bit lost at the moment.

"Could you put it on me?" Tara asked, clearing your confusion.

Your heart began beating a bit faster. "Of course," you spoke softly and put the necklace around her neck. You tried not to notice how her lower lip trembled, or how it felt like your fingertips touched fire. It wasn’t like this when you first put it around her neck, and your heart threatened to leap out of your chest when you looked at the necklace around her neck. It felt good to see it there once again after more or less three months now.

"I took it off exactly three months ago. It felt fitting to put it back on today, especially if you put it on me," her eyes held a bit of uncertainty as she placed her hands around your neck.

With anyone else, they'd have to work for it, but with Tara, you just moved, letting her pull your head down. She kissed your cheek and then moved her lips closer to your ear. "You're the only one whose mark I'll ever wear," your eyes widened, brain shortcircuited, body moving on its own as you pulled her closer, heart hammering in your chest as she looked you in the eyes. Was she leaning in or was that you?

"Tara, Y/N, we're ready to start the movie!" Mindy's voice startled both of you and you awkwardly separated from each other the moment Mindy came in. The fuck? Didn't the three of them send you up here? And now they interrupted you? "Come on," she ushered you and then probably connected the dots. "Hey, wait a second, did you two just-" she had the most infuriating shit-eating grin on her face.

"No!" both of you denied even if you could feel the tingling sensation on your lips. It wasn't even an almost kiss, your lips definitely touched for a moment, and judging by Tara absentmindedly touching her lips she felt it too,

"Sure, you didn't," Mindy rolled her eyes. "Make out later, we got a movie to watch."

"We weren't-" Tara began and you could see a very prominent blush on her face. "Why am I even bothering?" she gave up prompting you to chuckle.

"Let's just go and watch the movie," you gave up and picked Tara up. The warning you silently sent Mindy luckily kept her from saying anything, she still had an infuriatingly teasing smirk on her face and it only made Tara hide her face in the crook of your neck.

"T, we all know you're not hiding because you're embarrassed," Mindy just couldn't help herself.

"Dude, let me have this," Tara groaned, making Mindy laugh as she led the two of you to the living room.

Your phone rang just as you and Tara settled in, and you glanced down to see it was your coach. Sighing, you pulled away from Tara and smiled apologetically at her pouting face. "Sorry, I have to take this, don't pause the movie," you stepped outside the house and answered. "How did it go?" you immediately asked, you kinda knew the answer already, you were already perfectly fine with it, you just wanted to hear it.

"You're out Y/N, they agreed to let you have two more fights and then you'll have to retire," you couldn't remember ever hearing him so devastated. You didn't get it, honestly, this was much better than you expected. You thought it would be instant retirement.

"Got it. Well, let's just make those last two fights memorable," you said, you didn't try, he tried, and there was nothing else to do but accept the complementary paycheck and retire without making a fuss.

"Why did you have to go after those two?" he asked again even if you answered that same question when he told you the situation you were in.

"I told you. They hurt the one I love," you'd do it again, and again, and it didn't matter what the cost would be.

"Y/N, come on! The movie's really good!" you heard Chad hollering from the living room.

"Sorry, I have to go, we'll talk tomorrow, okay?" even if you were fine with it, you did wish there was another way, but there wasn't so, that's how it was.

"Yeah, sure. We'll talk," he hung up, sounding even more dejected, before you had the chance to do it and you went back inside. You felt Tara's eyes following your every move, even when Mindy teasingly told her the TV was in the opposite direction. Tara flipped her off, but didn't look away and as you sat back down you saw concern in her eyes.

You smiled, leaning in, and kissing the top of her head before pulling her closer to you. "It's nothing urgent, I'll tell you tonight," she'd sleep at your place tonight. It was a bit of an unspoken deal. If Sam couldn't sleep at Tara's place, then Tara would sleep at your apartment. And since Sam narrowly avoided another fight with her and Tara's mother, they both decided it would be for the best if Sam didn't sleep there for a night or two. Just to let things cool down a bit.

Tara looked you in the eyes with an intensity that made you wonder if she would settle for your answer. Luckily, she nodded and went back to watching the movie.

Three and a half hours later you couldn't avoid telling Tara about what happened anymore. You wanted to delay it a bit longer, let her rest, and not worry her about how you were taking the news because you knew she'd be worrying regardless of what you told her. So, you took your sweet time to get ready for bed, hoping she might fall asleep.

She didn't. Of course, she didn't.

"Y/N," there was a playful warning in her tone, one that told you Tara saw right through you.

"Sorry, sorry," you rubbed the back of your head nervously as you lay down next to her. Tara was on your left side, much like she was in the hospital. And just like in the hospital, you were closer to the doors. Ghostface was gone, but Tara did at one point sleepily mutter to you that she felt safer when she was between you and the wall, safe from both sides.

"So, what was the phone call about?" Tara demanded.

"I'm retiring from MMA," you just dropped it on her and watched as her jaw dropped, as her entire face morphed into pure shock.

"What? Why?" she questioned the moment her brain processed the information you just gave her.

"Apparently, a case can be made that I went looking for a fight, for both times I fought Amber and Richie, especially the one at Amber's house. So, while a lot of people accept the self-defense and/or keeping my loved ones safe as a valid excuse, at least just as many people are saying I could have stayed out of it and/or that I took it too far," you explained the gist of the situation. It was a perfect storm, really. You, a young, new fighter, came along, and defeated a bunch of fan favorites, only to then get caught up in a conflict that left more than half a dozen people dead and just as many heavily injured.

"That makes no sense. What were you supposed to do, let them kill you?" Tara's voice shook with barely restrained fury.

"No one is saying that, but plenty of people are saying I went to Amber's house intending to kill her, which, to be perfectly honest, is true," you couldn't argue against that, you really did plan on killing Amber.

Tara frowned and sat up, looking down as you kept lying there. "We went to save Sam," she argued, even if there really was no point in arguing.

"Tara," you sighed, reaching up to brush a couple of strands of her hair behind her ear. "You and I both know that's the official statement. Yes, saving Sam was important, but if Sam woke me up, or if you had told me it was Amber before we went to sleep I would have done the same thing Sam did."

"I killed Amber," Tara kept arguing, even if she did lift her hand and placed it over your own.

"Valid. I still wanted to do it. I would have done it if I had anything but the gun in my hands," you argued back, still fairly calm about everything.

Tara leaned over you, gripping your shoulders. "Why are you like this? Why are you taking the side of people that are against you?" she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

You frowned, choosing the next words carefully. "It's not about sides. It's as simple as acknowledging that I had those intentions. Even if my reason for fighting was justified, and it was, there have to be consequences. Otherwise, you might as well openly give a highly trained group of people a loophole on how to get away with fighting outside the cage, or ring, or whatever," you firmly believed what you were saying. You were fine with this outcome. This was the price to pay to keep Tara safe? Hell, you would have paid a much higher one if it was needed.

"It's not fair," Tara whispered, as she lowered her body down to your own, no longer capable of staying in the position she was in. You were honestly impressed she held out for so long. You just pulled the blanket over your bodies and hugged her. Tara sighed, gently running her fingers through your hair.

"Is the phrase we-" Tara immediately placed a finger over your lips.

"-only use when things don't go our way, I know. You keep repeating that," she huffed, annoyed.

You still kissed the tip of her finger and grinned when she blushed. "It's not so bad. I'm retiring, but I'll have two more fights and I'll get some money to retire quietly. Everyone will end up more or less happy by the end of this deal," you tried to get her to see the brighter side.

Tara, instead, just narrowed her eyes.

"Okay, that's not working. How about this? I get to go to college and work at the same time, while spending plenty of time with you, instead of sacrificing the job in favor of fighting. It's really not that big of a loss Snuggle Bear," you didn't know what else to say to her that could get her to just accept it as it is. It really shouldn't have been this difficult. Tara hated that you fought, before all of this went down, she herself tried to talk you into quitting several times, so all of this, her entire reaction, baffled you.

You understood that she knew how much you loved MMA and you guessed she would be worried about how you'd take all of this, but this was a whole different reaction from what you imagined. And you couldn't put a finger on what was the reason for this shift to save your life.

Though she struggled to do it, Tara moved away from you and tucked herself in the corner. "I wish you didn't pretend you were okay, Y/N. For once be open about your feelings," you didn't have to see her face to know she was crying.

"Tara," you tried, leaning over to wrap an arm around her waist, but she pushed against it. You took a deep breath and sat up. For once you were completely honest about being fine. But that was the point, wasn't it? Because it was for once. So many times, you pretended to be fine, keeping the fact that something was troubling you from Tara and now that she knew you did that for years there was a crack in her trust in you. You got up from the bed and lay down on the sofa to give her as much space as your apartment allowed. It was a long, silent night, with neither of you saying a word or getting any sleep.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader

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here4kpopfics · 2 years

Text

Leave the Door Open | JJK

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Pairing: neighbor!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, a dash of fluff, humor

AU: Strangers to lovers. Or Strangers to fwb? Up to you.

Wordcount: 7,367. oops

Summary: Based off this request. Your neighbor loves to sing karaoke in the middle of the night. You finally get fed up and confront him about it. Except when he opens the door, you realize you’re screwed. He’s gorgeous.

Warnings: Language. All the warnings are smut warnings.

Smut warnings: Explicit sex. Protected sex. Light choking/breath play. Pet names (Sparkles and baby) 69ing oral (both receiving). Light anal play/rim job. Spanking. Biting. Bulge kink. technically cum eating at the end? multiple orgasms. He makes her cry it feels so good. I feel like I’m missing something else. This is just porn with a very baseline plot

Rating: M / 18+

AN: How did we get here you ask? Well @here2bbtstrash made a request and I was just clocking off work and decided “yes. I wish to suffer. I have an idea” and spent the next 24 hours writing porn. Literally a day after posting my first smut. This is for M, but I hope you all enjoy. And as usual, thank you to the oh so beautiful @jjkeverlast for beta-reading for me. and @chryblossomjjk for enabling me with some of these kinks. 🥵 Banner and Divider made by the beautiful @classicseffects

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

It’s been a long day. You had three sets of parents chew you out about the store you work at being out of stock of a specific item. No matter how many times you calmly tell them you have no control over the store’s inventory because you are just an associate, a cashier that never works the floor and couldn’t even begin to tell you where to locate said items. Not your department, not your problem. If your managers really wanted it to be your problem, they should pay you more. But they don’t, and instead schedule you at ridiculous hours and expect the world from you in return.

It’s finally 9PM which means you get to clock out and bolt home. You’re already planning the instant ramen pack and what to add with it from the convenience door next to your apartment building as you walk out the doors of hell. You want the spicy one. Should mix in an egg or something to bring the spice down a little bit, though. Maybe a bottle of soju as a treat? And absolutely some snacks and it’d be a crime not to get ice cream.

The whole bus ride home all you can think about is making the food, settling on the couch and watching the most recent kdrama and judging the couple’s miscommunication issues. Maybe a nice bath too. Oh that’d be nice. You’d light some candles, bring the soju in with you, and just stay in the tub with a nice bath bomb. You pray your neighbor isn’t home so you can have some silence.

You’ve never met your neighbor. He’s literally the apartment next to you, your bedroom shares a wall with what you assume is his bedroom as well. You’re not sure, but going off on the layout of the apartment complex and how similar every unit is, you assume it’s the bedroom. That and the few times you’d heard him bring a friend over and had been able to hear every moan and grunt from both parties. Although you could’ve sworn you heard three at one point. But it was always done on the weekends so it was fine. You weren’t too bothered by his sexcapades. Who were you to judge? If given the opportunity, you’d be bringing people home left and right. But the idea of all that flirting for just a one night stand seemed like too much effort.

Your problem with this mystery neighbor, however, is his karaoke habit. He has the voice of an angel and can sing anything with little effort. You actually enjoy listening to him sing, even softly singing along with him during the day. However, it’s not that often that it happens because he would usually carry out his karaoke escapades after 11PM and continue well into the night, usually around 3 or 4 in the morning. And always on weekdays, when you need the most sleep. You tried to work up the courage to confront him one night, but right when you left your apartment, he stopped and his place was silent. Another night, you just pounded the wall begging him to stop. He did eventually. But not until your thumps on the wall got lighter from you being too tired.

You finally enter your apartment, with the results of a successful quest for sustenance in your clutches. You slip off your shoes at the door, Toss your purse on the counter and begin preparing food. Mission: eat and drink everything and feel no regrets is a go.

While the water is boiling, you head to your room to change. You rip off your bra and your pants and grab a giant t-shirt that you’re pretty sure you accidentally stole from a one night stand years and years ago and have been too afraid to contact him again. So it’s yours now. It’s soft and not too thick. And it’s huge, which you love because it makes you look super tiny. You take note of how quiet it currently is on the neighbor's side. You wonder if he’s even home. Not your problem. You remind yourself as you return to the kitchen and get back to food prep.

It’s now close to midnight and you have eaten all the ramen, grazed across all the snacks, had a good amount of the ice cream, and gone through two and a half bottles of soju and were feeling pretty good. You grow bored of the kdrama and decide it’s time to take that super relaxing bath you daydreamed about on the bus. Your neighbor still makes no noise on the other side, so you take this moment to enjoy some peace and quiet.

You run the bath, light the assorted candles, and toss the bath bomb in before easing into the slightly too hot water full of oils, pretty colors, and an obscene amount of glitter. You put your hair up and slide down the tub in pure relaxation mode. Trying to erase the horrid customers from earlier. There’s no sounds save for the water dripping out of the tap and any movements you make against the water.

The problem with relaxing like this in your tub is your breasts aren’t fully submerged in the water. They could be, but then the water would overflow. The cool air hits your sensitive buds, causing you to clench your thighs together. After a few more breezes tease your nipples, you say screw it and reach your hand down between your legs, looking for any kind of friction. Your fingers find your bundle of nerves underwater and begin moving against it in a figure 8 motion. You whimper softly, entering two fingers past your folds, using your palm and the water to continue to work against your clit. Your other hand is massaging a breast, twisting and pulling the nipple every now and again. You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to burn, already so close to release. So close. Just right there. Right there, oh god right the - !

“Give me your, give me your, give me your attention, baby. I got to tell you a little something about yourself. You're wonderful, flawless, ooh, you a sexy lady. But you walk around here like you wanna be someone else.”

What. The. Fuck?

The sudden sound of your neighbor singing and the music blaring through every crack in the walls sends your hand flying away from your center, killing any chance at an orgasm. Your sudden movement causes the water to slosh over the edge and you hastily make to get out of the tub. You get one leg over onto the floor but it lands on a puddle of water and sends you flying forward. You brace your hands in front of you to catch on the countertop before you slam your face into it. Your other leg doesn’t go the right height to get over the tub and instead slams into the side of it. You let out a sudden cry or pain, finally steadying yourself against the counter.

You give yourself a few seconds to assess what the hell just happened. You were masturbating. It was great. You were so close to coming. And then your stupid neighbor decided right then was the time to sing Bruno Mars. And you almost died getting out of the tub. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You catch your breath, until you realize he’s still fucking singing. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it.” Your voice is laced with hatred as you grab a towel and wrap it around your damp body, not giving a shit about the way you look. You need to give him a piece of your mind and you need to do it now while you have courage, amplified by the soju. You don’t even bother putting on your sandals as you march out your door, turning 90 degrees left and again until you’re facing his door. You take a deep breath and begin pounding on the door, mentally preparing which vile words would come out first. The music stops and you can hear footsteps approaching, but you keep knocking away until the door finally opens.

“You don’t have to keep knocking ya know, I heard the first three.” He has the audacity to sound annoyed with YOU making too much noise? Seriously? You open your mouth to retort back such thoughts when you finally catch a glance at the beautiful sounding singer with horrible timing that you want to strangle to death.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

He’s slightly taller than you. Black hair cut almost like a mullet. With his bangs split down the middle. A lip ring attached to his bottom lip. Big round eyes and a nose you immediately deem the cutest nose to exist. A few freckles scattered across his face and neck in the best places, you decide the one under his lip is your favorite. He’s leaning against the door wearing a matching pajama set of black silk with gray rectangles lining the entirety of it. His sleeves are rolled up and fuck he has a tattoo sleeve. You're ruined.

Your extremely attractive mystery neighbor just stares at you and you’re staring back, lips parted, still trying to find the words you were going to say before you knew you were going to say them to the prettiest man ever. Finally you just grab whatever words you can find so that it’s not silent.

“Fuck me…” his eyebrow quirks up and he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Sure, but at least tell me your name first.”

“What?” You frown.

“Unless you want to stick to nicknames. I’m down with whatever. You can be Sparkly Towel Girl. Though it doesn’t really roll off the tongue as well…” He smirks and it finally clicks in your head what just happened.

You’re in a towel. Only a towel. Your hair is a mess. You have glitter from the bath bomb glued to your skin that is actually still wet. And you just told him to fuck you. Your cheeks heat up and your eyes go wide. “No! No no no not what I meant.”

“You mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” You scoff trying to sound offended. “Why would I want to have sex with you?” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, baby. You’re the one at my doorstep at 12:30 in the morning sopping wet in a towel sparkling like a fairy saying fuck me.”

“No I don’t. That’s not.” You’re very hyper aware of the towel now and tighten it around your chest, praying he both does and doesn’t see the way your cleavage pushes up. You cover your face, trying to rewind back to when you were angry. What were you angry about?

OH. The karaoke!

“I was taken aback. That’s why I said what I said. But that’s not important. What’s important,” you huff, welcoming back your anger with open arms, “is your constant need to sing in the middle of the fucking night on weekdays only. Do you have no consideration for your neighbors who work late nights and early mornings every day? I can accept you having obnoxious sex on the weekends, but keep the singing to day time hours, yeah? I’d like to get a good night’s rest at some point in my life.”

You rush your words, trying to put emphasis on you needing sleep, because you do. You were tired of sleeping only a few hours a night. Even then, it was constantly interrupted by this man’s beautiful voice. You look him in the eye, looking for any form of acknowledgement, until he silently nods. “Okay. No more singing at midnight. I’m sorry.” He almost sounds sincere and you’re willing to accept it and move on.

You make a small enough curtsy that your towel will allow and mutter a thank you before turning to leave. Just as you get back to your door, Sexy Neighbor speaks.

“You gonna tell me your name though, or am I going to have to call you Sparkly Towel Girl every time?”

You turn back to him with a softer glare this time. “Depends. You gonna tell me yours or am I going to have to call you Attractive Pajama Man?”

“So you think I’m attractive.” The most obnoxious grin forms on his lips.

“You know you are.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the door handle.

“Could say the same about you, Sparkles.” He’s having fun teasing you. But his tone turns more serious when he finally looks down at your leg. “Hey you okay?”

You look back at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah, just a little traumatized and embarrassed but I’ll live” you joke, trying to make this as fast as possible so you can get back inside.

“No, I mean your leg. It’s bruised. And swollen.” You look down and gasp. Somehow in the span of you falling out of the tub and stomping over here to give me pleasant conversation has resulted in a gnarly bump forming on your shin as well as a deep bruise.

“Oh. That’s. That’s nothing. Ignore that ever happening. It didn’t.” You turn your door handle as he steps away from his door.

“You should probably go see a doctor. Or at least some ice packs. I have some in my freezer.” He actually sounds concerned as he starts stepping closer to you, eyes still honed in on the bruise.

“No, it's fine. I’m fine. Goodnight, stop singing in the middle of the night please, that's all I ask. Okay goodbye.” You open the door, swiftly rush inside and close the door before he can get to you.

Once you lock your door and head back to the bathroom to rinse off the glitter, you realize that glitter is just a way of life. No matter if you want it or not. It’s going to be stuck to you for days and follow where you go. You take a look at your leg and wince as you lightly touch it. It doesn’t feel broken, thank god. It’s just deep and super painful. You change back into pajamas and crawl into bed with an ice pack, pain relievers, and extra pillows to elevate your leg. You take the pills and settle in, scrolling through your phone until you fall asleep. Sexy neighbor man didn’t sing the rest of the night.

He actually didn’t sing the rest of the week.

He couldn’t. The sexy towel girl at his door looked exhausted. He genuinely had no idea you could hear him. He never heard you make any noises from your shared wall. Originally he was going to just keep singing. One cute girl wasn’t going to tell him what to do. But when he saw the bruise on your leg, he felt overwhelmed with guilt. He could only assume you got it when you rushed to knock on his door by how fresh it was.

So instead of singing around midnight. He had a hard cut off time at 10:45 and then switched to headphones where he would only sing as softly as he could as far away from the shared wall as possible.

What bothered him the most was he still didn’t know your name. He could easily go down to the mailbox room and find your number and therefore your name. But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted you to say it. And for you to say his name. He just had to find the right moment. Which was difficult when you seemed to always be out.

Five days later, he’s working out in his living room. Yes, it’s midnight. Yes, there’s a gym in this building. But he’s got to stay just in case. He’s beginning to lose hope in ever seeing you again, ignoring how ridiculous that sounds when you literally share a wall with him. And it’s only been five days. As he finishes a set of push ups, hope is restored. You’re home. And you’re loud? He freezes, trying to imagine what you're doing just by listening. You’re actually laughing but it doesn’t sound genuine. It almost sounds painful, like you’re angry? A few moments later, he hears music. It’s loud, and he chuckles to himself.

“Let’s see what happens, Sparkles.” He heads to the bathroom, removing all of his clothes and stepping in the shower to briefly wash off the sweat. He steps out and wraps a towel around his hips. He leaves the shoes just like you did and heads straight to your door, pounding on it in the exact same manner you did.

You’re dancing around the kitchen, clothes strewn about the floor as a result of you rushing to change into the giant shirt again with just your underwear underneath. You just got to the chorus, brand new bottle of whiskey in hand and are about to go hard into the dance when someone starts pounding on your front door, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You swing the door open, not caring that your legs and hips were on full display, and are met with you could only assume a hallucination.

You both eye one another up and down, unable to speak. Your eyes are locked on the towel, specifically the corner of the towel that’s tucked into itself to stay attached to his hips. You’re not sure if you’re drooling from your mouth, but you know another place is. Finally, he clears his throat and grabs your attention away from the towel.

“I think I see what you meant. It’s a bit hard to focus when that’s what I’m greeted with.” He tries to hide the devilish smile he gestures to your legs. You hum, not really sure if you’re agreeing, and if you are, to what. Your focus is back on the towel and the abs above it. You want to scratch them. You want to mark any part of him you can. He tilts his head, trying to get your attention a second time. “Sparkles? You okay?”

You finally make eye contact with him. “Sparkles?” You question in a whisper, suddenly remembering the last encounter. “Oh…right…” You hum in response again and then look at the bottle of whiskey in your hand and then back to him, his mouth specifically, down to that damn towel, and back to the whiskey. You shrug as if someone made a good point and put the bottle down on the side table next to you. You smile something sinister and reach out for the towel, tugging him inside, with him closing the door behind himself.

“This is a better option than whiskey.” You let go of the stubborn towel still attached and reach up to wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours in a needy kiss. His eyes widen, hands going for your waist, pulling away from your lips

“What is happening right now?” He sounds so serious and you hate it, so you reach back for his lips when he shuts you down again. “First of all. You’re drunk. So this is not happening.”

“I’m not drunk…I was going to. Brand new whiskey. See?” You pick the bottle back up, showing off its perfectly unbroken seal. “You can even smell my breath. Not a lick of liquor. Very sad. But now you’re here. That's way better.” You pull him back down to you and capture his lips again, this time he returns it in full, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“As much as I appreciate being considered better than alcohol, and glad you can consciously consent,” he smiles into the kiss, “there’s one more thing, Sparkles.”

“Hmm?” You moan out. He kisses down your chin, across your neck, and buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and leaving marks along the way.

“I need to know your name, sweetheart. And you need mine.”

“I don’t need yours.” You mumble back. He laughs, pulling away from your neck to see your face.

“You will need it if you’re going to be screaming for me.”

He can actually see you process this thought, mentally going through every scenario where you don’t know his name. Finally settling on him unfortunately being correct. You don’t want to be called Sparkles during sex and you need a better name than Sexy Neighbor. You lock eyes, suddenly very aware of what's going on. You let fears and anxieties walk out the door and you nod.

“It’s Y/N” you practically whisper. You let your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, leaning forward to kiss his nose. He smiles at the soft action, tipping his nose up to capture your lips again. This time, slow and methodical, but still as desperate. He only pulls away enough to say his name against your lips.

“Jungkook, baby. It’s Jungkook. Now let’s get out of your hallway. I have a girl in front of me who had a very specific request last week. I need to fulfill it.” He lowers himself just enough that he can hook his hands behind your thighs and lift you up and return his lips to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, subtly trying to take the stupid towel off with your feet, but failing miserably.

You’re not sure how you ended up on your bed. You didn’t tell him where to go. You mindlessly confirm your assumptions were correct and you had the same floor plan so he just knew where to go.

He lies you down on your back, legs still hooked around him and he awkwardly crawls over you, mouths staying connected until he rolls his hips into yours. That stupid towel still attached and rubbing against your covered core. You whimper at the friction, but it’s not enough.

You let your legs go from around his form and reach down, finally tugging the towel away and tossing it across the room like it was poison. “Finally” you accidentally huff out loud, causing him to burst into breathy laughs on your lips. You ignore him, reaching down for his length which, though you haven’t seen it yet, feels overwhelming. He’s hard and you can feel the precum on his tip as you slide your thumb over it. You bring your hand down his length, twisting your wrist as you bring it back up, thumbing his tip again. His lips part as he lets out a groan.

“Fuck, baby. Be careful, I’m embarrassed to say I might not last if you keep touching me.”

You whine. “Want it. Want your cock.” You sound so needy and desperate, the complete opposite of how you usually are in bed. Usually in control, usually a brat that needs to be punished. You’ve never been truly submissive like you feel right now. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“And you’ll have it. But first, let me taste you and get you ready.” He moves to sit up and push you further up the bed when you mutter out a “No.” He stops everything and looks at you. Your eyes are trained on his member. “No? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” You just shake your head again.

“Wanna taste at the same time.” You mumble, pulling yourself up, pushing the still confused man to be the one that lays back. You peel your underwear off, leaving the shirt on, and crawl over him, hovering your center just above his chest while facing away from him. You lean forward, grabbing his erection and giving a long lick from the base to the tip, wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking. You can hear his guttural reaction and suddenly two hands are violently tugging your hips closer to his face. You stop sucking long enough to reposition your knees on opposite sides of his head. He brings your hips down when you feel settled and dives into your sopping wet center.

“Shit. That feels so fucking good.” You moan, leaning back down, slowly easing his cock down your throat. He bucks his hips up unintentionally and you gag slightly, but he doesn’t hear. Instead, you brace both hands on his meaty thighs and bob your head up and down, taking him all the way each time and gagging around him before coming back up. You rut your hips against his face as he continues fucking his tongue into you, sucking on your bundle of nerves in intervals. He brings two fingers into play, sliding them against your entrance a few times before easing them into you, letting you fuck yourself with them.

Feeling close to his own release, he glances up at your rim. He runs a thumb along it, adding the smallest pressure possible, yet still earning a pleased reaction from you. He takes that as a yes and brings his tongue to your hole, licking flat against it before dancing his tongue around the rim. You keen, your head falling against his cock that you’re subconsciously still stroking. “Don’t stop. I’m so close. Please, Jungkook. Keep going.”

You find a strand of energy in you, determined to make him come at the same time and wrap your mouth around his tip again, hands working the shaft while you suck mercilessly. You both let out a series of loud moans, groans, and cries before you feel your hips spasm against his mouth, coming hard. At the same time, his hips snap up, ramming his cock even farther into your mouth, shooting the bitter white liquid down your throat. You swallow proudly, resting your head on his pelvis to take a breath.

“What the hell was that…” was all Jungkook could mutter, still processing what just happened. After a few moments he pats your leg where your bruise was starting to fade. “Wait.” He raises his head, a little shocked. ”Did you swallow?” You smile and nod, rubbing your cheek into his skin, humming out a yes and kissing whatever skin was there. He can barely see what you’re doing, but the feeling alone is enough to make his member come back to life. You feel it twitch and move to sit up again and grab it. But he catches you in time, flipping you around and over so he is now facing you from above. “No no. Not again. You specifically said ‘fuck me’ last week. I intend on doing that.” You groan at the change in positions and mope. You look tired and he’s still thinking about your frustrated laugh from earlier.

“But first,” he grabs both of your wrists in one hand, sliding them up above your head while holding himself up with the other by your head. He leans down, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “First, I need to know why you decided to blast music at midnight, and why you were about to crack open a bottle of whiskey by yourself. Are you okay?” his face softens, no longer full of lust. It’s still there, hiding behind his concern and obviously pressing up against your stomach. But he clearly has more important needs right now. Like making sure he’s not about to make a mistake.

You get lost in his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly, supressing the emotions building up behind your eyes. “Yeah. Just had a bad day. But I’m fine, I promise.” Your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes and Jungkook doesn’t know if he believes you.

“No bad breakup or fight with a guy or girl I should know about? I don’t do rebounds and I don’t condone cheating.” He’s very serious. You just laugh, this time it’s real and he can tell immediately.

“God, no. No exes or currents. Haven’t had that in years. No no no. Just…I got fired from my job and want to have something good before having to deal with the impending doom of reality, okay? Just make me forget for a moment, please?” Those stupid emotions are on the brink, threatening to spill from your eyes. You shut them tight, fighting against the feelings you want to let go. He sighs, leaning down to kiss your eyelids, moving up to your forehead.

“Okay, baby. I can do that. Do you want it rough or gentle?” You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at the question.

“Either is fine. Rough would be better…” you mutter under your breath. He just nods, kissing your forehead again, trailing down to your ear.

“I’ll make you forget, baby. Just focus on me and how I make you feel, okay?” You nod, moaning softly when he licks the shell of your ear. “Where are your condoms, y/n?” You gesture with your head to the left nightstand and he lets go of your wrists to briefly move off you to grab one. He comes back, foil unwrapped and rolling it down his length. He gazes down at you and you can see a weird shift in his face. His tone suddenly becomes darker as he slowly pumps himself.

“You’re gonna be good for me, right babygirl?” You nod enthusiastically, mentally making fun of yourself for switching to full submissive for a guy you just learned the name of.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” you sweetly respond, lifting and spreading your legs open for him to crawl in between. He sets one leg on his shoulder, leaving the other to rest on the bed as he lines himself up to you, smirking as he rubs the tip against your clit for a moment, watching you squirm before fully entering you without hesitation.

“Oh fuck” is all you can let out as you lift your hips to meet with him. He lets out a low groan as he pulls out everything but the tip, pushing your hips back down, keeping them there, and slamming back down into you. You arch your back, one hand grabbing onto the bed sheets and the other reaching out for any part of him. He notices, smiling as he leans back down, giving you better access. You find his waist and dig your nails in as he continues with his relentless pace on your pussy. He grunts loudly, fully leaning down over you, both knees over his shoulders.

You grab his neck and pull him into a sloppy kiss, teeth crashing together as you try to breathe through the pounding. “You feel so good, Jungkook. So big. Stretching me out perfectly. Fuck me just like that please. Don’t ever stop.” You cry out mumbling for him to not stop over and over.

He finds his new favorite spot on your neck and bites down before sucking, ensuring you’d be marked, and moving on to another spot. You mewl at his little art project on your neck mixed with the feeling of him fucking into you over and over until you come without warning. His hips stutter at the noise and feeling of you clenching around him and he has to still himself inside you before he finishes. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Flip over. All fours. Now.”

You oblige, albeit slowly. Your legs are shaky and you don’t know if you can hold yourself up very well, but you try. The moment you think you can keep yourself up, a hard smack sound fills the room as his large hand meets your ass. Your arms give out and you almost face plant into the pillows before a tattooed arm slides around your waist pulling you up to your knees.

“No, you don’t. No resting, baby. On your knees, I’ll keep you up.” His hand slides up your chest, under your shirt, creeping out of the neckline to wrap around your throat, holding you against his chest, letting you rest your head back on his shoulder. You’re panting and whimpering against him. He kisses your temple, quietly asking if you were good to continue. You nod and whisper a yes as he slips himself back inside you and continues his pace like he never missed a beat.

“Baby, you’re so tight but you take me so well. You feel like fucking heaven.” He pants in your ear, the hand not around your throat sliding down between your legs to your pulsing center. You whine and struggle as he starts rubbing in big lazy circles. It’s after a particularly deep thrust he feels something under his palm. He does it again to confirm and grins.

“Give me your hand, baby.” You lift it up without thinking too much, unsure where he wanted it. He grabs your wrist and places your hand flat against your lower stomach just above where he’s ruining you. He does another deep thrust and you feel it. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “You feel that? Feel me all the way inside you?” You’re silent, in shock at the bulge you feel. “How about now, baby? Feel it now?” He gives another sharp thrust, lessening his clutch around your throat, forcing you to cry out.

“Yes I feel it!” You feel the knot inside you coil up and ignite. “Please. Jungkook. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore. He eases you back on to all fours and you grab a pillow, clutching it for dear life. To compensate for not being able to be on all fours, you put all your strength into raising your ass to meet with his hips perfectly. He groans at the view, slapping your ass again. He uses both hands to grab to give it a massage, separating your cheeks to get a better view. He sees a perfect opportunity to make you see stars and keep your mind off anything troubling you.

“You wanna come for me, baby?” His voice is low. You nod into the pillow. “Remember what I did with my tongue earlier?” His thumb softly grazes over your hole and you nod, letting out a whiny moan, pushing your ass back for more. “Do you trust me?” You nod again. “No, y/n. I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?” He asks again.

You frown, lifting your face out of the pillow just enough to force out the words “Yes, I trust you. Please, let me come. Please.” And tuck your face back into the pillow.

“Thank you, baby. Relax for me. Just enjoy it.” He pulls out momentarily, chuckling as you whine at the feeling. He sinks his thumb past your folds, gathering up any arousal he could before inserting his cock back inside, eliciting a low moan out of both of you. He smears his thumb across your puckered hole a few times, adding more pressure each time. Once he feels you relax more, he presses his thumb past the tight ring of muscles at the same time as he thrusts his hips deeply into your cunt.

You suck in a breath and hold it, toes curling, and you bring the pillow even closer to your face, biting down on the satin pillowcase. He holds his position with his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Breathe, baby. It’ll feel better when you breathe.” He whispers, slowly pushing deeper until his knuckle slips past the muscles. You let out a guttural moan, pressing yourself back towards him, helping him get the rest of his thumb in. “Can I move again, y/n? You’re okay?” You nod into the pillow almost shouting a yes into it.

He resumes thrusting, starting slow, eventually building back up to his rapid pace curling his thumb with every thrust. Your moans are deep, cut off by trying to catch your breath every other moan. “Jungkook. I’m coming. Please. Let me. Say I can come.” If he wasn’t so close himself, he’d be chuckling at you begging, teasing you and edging you. But he needs his release just as much as you do.

“Come for me, baby. Let go. Come all over my cock.”

And that’s all you need to hear before you’re screaming his name and varied obscenities, clenching around him as you enter a state of euphoric bliss. You see stars and in the background you hear him groan deeply, coming inside of the condom deep inside you. He eases his thumb out of you while you’re out of it and just takes in the view below him, face still in your pillow, back shivering and rising and falling in time with your rapid breathing. How the hell did he just have the best orgasm of his life with a girl he literally met twice even though you’ve been neighbors for who knows how long? His hand on your hip tightens a little as he moves to pull out of you. A small whimper coming from you in the pillow.

Once he’s fully pulled out of you, you fall on your side, freeing the pillow from your face, ignoring the drip of saliva coming with it and watch him begin to remove the condom. You’re exhausted. You don’t want to keep going. Yet your body moves of its own accord and you hold yourself up enough to reach out to stop him from doing it. “Let me” you choke out. He removes his hands, watching you carefully as you slowly remove the condom, hissing slightly at your touch.

You hand him the condom to tie up and toss aside and gently hold up his length covered in his release and, locking eyes with him, lick up his length. “What the fu-uck?” He groans out, tossing his head back. You clean up every inch of him, ending on his tip and he has to softly push you away before he gets hard again. “No. Baby, stop. No more. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I am spent.” He whispers into a laugh.

You grin up at him, launching yourself backwards, spreading out on the bed. Your shirt riding up your stomach. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he leave? Ask to use your restroom first? But why do that when he lives next door. You can see his confusion, you pat the space next to you, gently moving yourself over, wincing all the while, so he has room. He smiles, laying down on his side next to you. It’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to play with the bottom of your shirt.

“Is there a reason you kept this on?” He questions, mindlessly running his fingernails across the hemline.

“It’s too big. Makes me feel small. And you haven’t earned the right to see this divine pair of tits.” You smile at his gaping reaction.

“After all that?! And I still don’t have the privilege?” He drops the fabric and waves his hand around the both of you. “Literally ruined you and I don’t get to see the goods.” He whines dramatically. You giggle, sleep fast approaching.

“Next time.” You mumble.

“Oh there’s a next time?” His eyebrows raise and he smiles.

“You think after all that,” you mimic his gestures, “I wouldn’t want a next time?” You both burst into a fit of giggles. He stops first, reaching out to remove a strand of hair from your face.

“Well I surely look forward to next time then.” He whispers softly, moving a bit closer at the same time.

“Who knows? Next time could be in the morning.” You say it so confidently. You had expected him to fuck you and bolt. But him staying has to mean at least a little something, right? Except his happy expression falls into that of worry and uneasiness.

“I actually have to go out of town tomorrow.”

“Oh…” you frown, trying not to look too devastated. He cups his hand around your face, gently smiling.

“I’ll be back in like three days. I’ll let you know. Then we can have as many ‘next times’ as you want, okay?” He grins as your expression perks back up, leaning across to give you a few soft and sensual kisses. “I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep. But I have to pack, so don’t think I just got up and left in the morning, okay?” You nod your head, shuffling closer to tuck your face into his chest and drift off to sleep immediately.

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. As he said he would be. And thus began three days of complete silence.

On the day of his alleged return, you stayed home all day pampering yourself. You put on one of your favorite lingerie sets that really enhanced your already marvelous chest and curves and put the same big shirt back on over you.

You were ready by midday but you had one problem. You had no idea when he was coming back. You two didn’t swap phone numbers or socials. He didn’t tell you any details. So you spent the rest of the day on the couch moping about being fooled. Which didn’t make sense in the first place. You two weren’t anything. You had a crazy intense one night stand and that’s it. There was no date offered. No deal made. Nothing. So why were you getting dressed up for a one night stand? You tried to reason with yourself until you fell asleep on your bed around 8PM, figuring he wasn’t going to come back, and if he did, he forgot about you either on purpose or accident.

You’re jolted awake by loud music and the beautiful voice of your stupid sexy neighbor at 11PM.

“What you doing? Where you at? Oh, you got plans? Don't say that. I'm sipping wine in a robe. I look too good to be alone. My house clean, my pool warm. Just shaved. We should be dancing, romancing in the east wing and the west wing of this mansion, what's happening?”

He sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the wall and you both hate him for doing this and love that this is how he’s waking you. He continues on as you check yourself in the mirror, convincing yourself you still look good and not to get too excited and eager.

“I ain't playing no games. Every word that I say is coming straight from the heart. So if you tryna lay in these arms, I'ma leave the door open.”

He belts out the last line and you can’t help but laugh. After a final once over, you head out of your room. He’s still singing as you put your slippers on and head out the door.

“And I'm hoping, hoping that you feel the way I feel. And you want me like I want you tonight, baby.”

You turn to his door but it’s already cracked open. You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and open the door to a reverse layout of your apartment. You take your slippers off and follow the sound of his beautiful voice to a room with the door closed. You knock and he answers, finishing the song as your eyes meet his.

“Girl, I'm here just waiting for you. Come on over, I'll adore you.”

The song ends and your smile turns to one of annoyance.

“You didn’t tell me when you were coming back. I waited all day wrapped up like a gift for you and honestly the least you could’ve done is write down a flight numbe - “ he shuts you up with a greedy kiss and you melt instantly as he pulls you closer.

“What’s the gift? Do I get to see this divine chest I’ve heard rumors about?” He grins into the kiss, and you hold the laugh in. You step away from him and remove your shirt, showing off the extravagant set underneath. He lets out a strained groan. “You just don’t know how to warn a guy, do you? Get on the damn bed, Sparkles.” He snaps, pulling you into the room and shutting the door. The start of another intense night.

AN: yay open endings. Decide how it goes. Fwb? Lovey dovey? Have fun. Thank you for reading, I love you! 💜💜💜💜💜

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charlesslut16 · 7 months

Note

can you do a smut with logan sargeant using "there's only one bed" trope. also ENEMIES TO LOVERS.thank youu

-only one bed-

summary : your managers booked one room to two people, logan and you, but what will happen if there is only one bed....

PAIRING : logan sargeant x reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like it, lovie!

masterlist

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You and Logan hated each other. Like really hate. Enemies. But as chance would have it, you and him needed to sleep in the same room and bed at the end of the day.

But first, let's go back to the beginning. You and Logan met when you first started to work at the f1 grid as an interviewer, and he was a rookie, and you spilled your drink on him. Classic.

And since then, many more incidents happened, which made you and him hate each other more. When you saw each other on the paddock, you would evade the other at all cost.

But when you needed to interview him, you did it because it was your job, but when the interview ended you would go back to hating each other again immediately.

The next grand prix you had to stay in a hotel, as most of the time and most of the drivers and team chefs. Your manager wanted to book your hotel room, so that you didn't need to worry about it.

However, it didn't go as planned. You used your key to open your hotel room to find Logan already sitting on the bed and packing some of his things into the bathroom.

When Logan heard that someone had come into his room he was firstly shocked, but after he saw who it had been exactly, he looked angry. How dare you come into his room?

“Get out.” Logan said with an annoyed expression visible on his face. He did not like that you were in here at all. “No, I won't. This is my room!” You answered him with a huff as you came into the room fully.

“What do you mean?! My manager booked this hotel room for me, how could this be your room?” He huffed as he came out of the bathroom with his arms crossed before his chest. “No. My manager booked this for me.”

And just as Logan wanted to answer and argue with you, his and your manager came in with an embarrassed look on their faces. At that moment, you knew exactly what had happened. They had booked the room for two people.

“So we have to tell you both something, and we hope that you can understand it and make the best of it” mumbled his manager, while your manager explained everything to the both of you.

“If I understand this correctly, you booked the room for two people, and we need to stay in the same room for three day, right?” They nodded with an embarrassed look, thanked you both for understanding, and left.

And now you and Logan stood in the same room and looked at each other with puzzled expressions. What the both of you knew was that no one would bow down and let the other one have the room.

So you needed to make the best of it as you could. You packed the most important things away, as he did too. Then you left the room to go and explore the city, and he left to meet some of his drivers.

Both of you left with an uncomfortable feeling. Neither of you wanted to sleep in the same room as the other, but you could not change the fact that it had happened.

You enjoyed the stroll to the city and as you were finished, you left and went back to the hotel room and showered. Finished, you laid on your side of the best, which were separated through many pillows.

Most of the time you spend on your phone and chatting with friends and family and some other thinking about what to wear on each of the day you were on the paddock.

And hours later, you hear the door open and Logan stepping into the dark room, with a not so pleasant face. He showered and then laid on his side of the bed.

“We need to talk about this situation.” You nodded and turned to the side to look at him. “You stay on your side, I stay on mine, no disturbing each other and leaving as soon as we are finished with making ourselves ready, got it?”

You nodded and mumbled a quit, 'got it', which made you angry again. He wasn't the King of you, he had no power or control, but you just wanted to sleep, so you accepted it and turned yourself around and slept.

But as you woke up, you laid with your head on his chest, your whole body tuned into him, while his arms were around your waist, holding you tightly against him.

Logan felt you shifting, so he woke up, looked at you and smiled. Maybe he didn't hate you. And just perhaps he loved you. But he could not tell you that, so he stilled his movements and closed his eyes again.

Nothing could explain what you were feeling at the moment. You were flustered and nervous, your face was tinted in a little red. But there was something else, something that you couldn't quit to catch.

The moment you realized where you were and on whom you laid you sprung up, looked at Logan for a second before you sprung out of the bed, went into the bathroom, showered very quickly and left the room to walk to the paddock and calm down.

The long walk to the paddock was quiet. In your ears were headphones, so you could block the loud surrounding noises, the things in your mind were loud enough.

The things in your mind were you and Logan. You thought that you hated each other, but the morning gave you thinking. Did you really hate him or was there more, you weren't sure of?

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fluff #logan sargeant #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #williams racing #williams formula 1 #williams f1 #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fanfiction #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fluff #enemies to lovers

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starsandhughes · 1 year

Text

Bloody Faces, Bloody Hearts

request: “I would love to see trevor zegras prompt 30 if you want to write it”

prompt 30: “you’re hurt just let me help you”

parings: trevor zegras x reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: injuries, crying, underage drinking, kinda describing a panic attack, pain medication mention, angst to fluff, fighting, arguing

word count: 2.3k (i love writing angst) UNEDITED

(A/N i didn’t specify the team or other player bc i didn’t wanna slander anyone)

Your ever so lovely boyfriend, Trevor, was getting into a lot of fights as of late. But in the span of 5 days, he managed to not only have a physical fight on the ice, but also got into a huge argumentative fight with you.

You were sitting on the couch at Trevor and Jamie’s place trying to collect yourself. You and Trevor got into a screaming match over him going out and coming home late almost every day for two weeks and not making any time to spend with you. You didn’t care about practices, or him going on long roadies, hell you even came with on short ones when you could get out of work. Hockey isn’t, and never will be, the problem. The problem is that you went three days without seeing him other than when he got into bed next to you.

“I think I should go home.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “You are home, what do you mean ‘I think I should go home’?”

“I mean I think I should go home to Michigan for a few days. See my mom, maybe stop by UMich to see Luke. I think we need some time apart to cool down and you need to get your priorities straight.”

He had some words to say about that, but you weren’t listening. He was repeating that you’re his priority in various ways, and the more you packed the more desperate he got.

“So prove it Trevor!” you cried. “This isn’t a breakup. I am not breaking up with you. But maybe you’ll know how it feels to come home everyday without seeing the love of your life and realize you’ve been taking me for granted.”

Your voice got softer as you went on and you reached up with one hand to cup his cheek, “I love you, okay? Always. I just used two Fault in Our Stars terms so you know I mean it.” He laughed lightly at that and brought his hand up to where yours was to hold it.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I love you, too. I’ll see you later.”

It took you almost two days to reach UMich, but you thought having some “not really-but might as well be-little brother” time with Luke would do you some good. The Hughes family is how you and Trevor met, and they were more of your family thank your actual blood one.

‘Hello?’ Luke answered the phone.

“Lukey Moosey! Do you have plans tonight?”

‘No? Why, what’s up?’

“Your favorite person ever just booked a hotel right outside of campus and is stealing you for the night!”

You tried to say this with as much heart and excitement you could muster, but the youngest Hughes saw straight through you.

‘Something happened,’ he said, as more of a statement than a question. You sighed as your response. ‘Is it a “you’re wearing Quinn’s hoodie and we’re drinking” kind of something happened or a “disney movies and pout” kind of something happened?’

“I just drove two days to come home, what do you think?”

‘Don’t get tequila.’

“Jack scarred me too much for me to ever drink tequila again, don’t worry. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

You got a hotel for you and Luke to spend the night in because you didn’t want his teammates around when you just need some Luke time. Plus, you’d rather only be responsible for one teen underage drinking.

Luke nursed a beer while you drank a vodka margarita you made in the bathroom as you told him everything that has happened with you and Trevor.

Luke listened, and spoke as well, to help you sort out your priorities and issues with the situation, and did his little brother duties swimmingly.

You two sat up against the headboard of the hotel bed and put on a Spider-Man movie after you both caught up with everything non-Trevor related in your lives. You leaned your head against his shoulder and pulled your knees up to lay them near his chest.

“Thanks, Luke,” you said low.

He wrapped an arm around you, “any time, y/n/n.”

For the rest of your undisclosed amount of time in Michigan, you spent it at your parent’s house, with some time with your second set of parents mixed in.

The latter is where you were currently sitting on the couch watching the Pregame for the Ducks game. Yeah, you were in a fight with Trevor, but you were still going to root for him.

They had the lead in the middle of second period at 2-0. The other team was becoming more defensive in their playing, as well as more aggressive. And your boyfriend had a tendency to be on the other side of someone’s aggression.

There was a fight. Gloves dropped, punches thrown, blood on faces. And Trevor was not getting as many hits in as the other player.

Fights happen. This isn’t the first Trevor has been in and it certainly won’t be the last. But this one was different. This one was worse. This one was the most violent brawl you’ve ever seen in a hockey game.

Their fight moved down the ice closer to the goal. The other played punched Trevor in the face so hard that he flew back, slammed his head on the goal post, and crumbled to the ground, bending his ankle in an unnatural way.

You suddenly felt extremely hot. Your body felt as if it were burning, your brain was threatening to drop down through your throat and bring you to the ground with it. You stood up when the fight got bad, and your legs gave out when they said he was unconscious.

“Oh my god,” Ellen gasped. You didn’t know if it was in reference to you or Trevor.

“He- he’s…”

Ellen put her arm around you and hushed you softly, “They’ll take good care of him, it’ll be alright.”

You shook your head, “No. No, I should be there. I have to go.”

“Y/N, you’re not in the right mind to drive right now,” Ellen told you.

“I’m not driving. I’m taking the next flight out and I’ll pick up my car from the airport later, I need to be there now.”

Jim and Ellen insisted on driving you to the airport and keeping your car safe at their house. You took the last seat on the flight to Anaheim that took off in the next three hours, and that’s when you finally called Jamie. You got worried when he picked up and said nothing.

“Is it bad?” you whimpered.

‘It’s not great, but it could be worse,’ Jamie answered honestly.

“I have a flight in three hours. I don’t know how I’ll get to you at 3am, but I’m coming.”

‘I’ll see if Mason can pick you up.’

Your flight was agonizingly long, but the wait to board was even worse. Anxiety still flooded your body despite how much anxiety medication you took. Nothing would cure it until you saw Trevor.

Jamie texted you that they were back home from the hospital, because it was bad enough to warrant a trip instead of the PT’s taking care of it, so that was where the very tired Mason dropped you off.

You quickly thanked him and ran out with your suitcase clattering behind you. You carefully unlocked the door and found Jamie dozing off on the couch still fully dressed. You set your suitcase by the door and crept over to the sleeping boy.

“Jamie,” you whispered as you gently rocked him awake.

He inhaled a deep and slow breath when he stirred and blinked tiredly at you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you breathed out a laugh. “What’s the damage?”

“Minor concussion, bruised rib, and a torn ligament in his ankle.”

You winced, “So not great.”

“No, not even close,” he responded, stretching out the ‘o’ sound in no.

You sat in silence for a moment. You knew Trevor was likely asleep, and he needed rest so you weren’t about to go wake him up.

“He asked about you,” Jamie said, looking down at the floor. “The concussion was causing some slight amnesia, and he didn’t remember that you left. I just kept telling him it was hard to get ahold of you and that you were coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done if the memory didn’t come back and you weren’t here.”

You pursed your lips together to refrain from making a choked cry.

“He’s been a mess, y/n. The first thing he did was check for Quinn’s sweatshirt, and he broke down when he saw that you took it.”

“Me leaving didn’t give him enough of a clue that it was serious?”

“I think it just… solidified it, you know? You bring it out when things are bad for you; when you just need a big brother. I think he would’ve gone after you if you went to Vancouver,” he joked.

You stayed silent. You weren’t going to apologize for sometimes needing your family.

“I shouldn’t have left,” was what you got out.

“Yes you should have. I was spending more time with you than he was. You had every right.”

That’s when you broke down in tears. No— tears isn’t the right term, these were wracked sobs coming out of you. Jamie wrapped you in his arms and shushed you as he rubbed your back.

“I need to wake him up for pain meds, and I’m sure he’ll be a lot more cooperative if you do it,” Jamie offered.

“Will you come with me?”

Jamie got up with you and placed a comforting hand on your back as you trekked down the hall to your and Trevor’s room. You carefully sat down on the edge of the bed next to his chest and rubbed your hand up and down his back to wake him up.

“Z,” you singsonged. “Z baby I need you to wake up.”

Trevor grumbled into his pillow and tried to turn over, but was stopped by a sharp pain from his bruised rib. You winced at his cry and helped ease him down on his back against the pile of pillows supporting him.

“Y/N…?” Trevor asked sleepily.

You nodded and combed your fingers through his hair. His cheek was heavily bruised and he had a cut with a butterfly stitch across his eyebrow. For how much the other guy was hitting him, you were surprised his entire face wasn’t purple.

“It’s time for you to take some more pain meds,” you said low.

“You’re here,” he gapped. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t help but think he looked like Bambi.

“Of course I’m here,” you smiled softly, still petting his hair.

“But you left. I wasn’t- I wasn’t expec… expecting…”

“Easy there, Zegras. Don’t need you having a brain aneurysm over me being in our bedroom,” you tried to laugh.

“You’re here.”

“And you need pain-“

“You’re-“

“Z, we will talk about this but I need you to give me a moment. You need to take your pain medication.”

Trevor must’ve seen the desperate pleading in your eyes through the soft lamp light because he immediately stopped talking. He bit his lip and nodded at you. He put his arms behind him and tried to prop himself up so that he could swallow the pills, but he cried out and collapsed back down. When you reached to help him, he pushed your arms back and slowly shook his head.

“I can do it myself,” he grunted.

“You’re hurt. Just let me help you,” you said.

You two locked eyes for a moment before he nodded again. You heard the door click close, a signal that Jamie had left. You put a hand between his back shoulder blades to slowly lift him up, and helped you push himself back to sit against the headboard with minimal wincing. He quickly took the water and pills you handed him and scooted himself back down a little to be be halfway sitting up instead.

You started to stroke his hair again and he closed his eyes, breathing synced with your fingers combing up and down through his hair. You were silently crying and praying to every god imaginable that you didn’t make a sound, but this was to no avail.

“Oh, hey no,” Trevor rushed out. He cupped your cheek with one hand and linked his fingers together with yours with the other.

“You didn’t get up,” you squeaked out. “You went down, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. My ears were ringing, my head was spinning, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’m okay,” he whispered, rubbing circles with his thumb across your cheek bone.

“My mind blacked out when they said you were unconscious. I was standing one second, and Ellen was putting a straw in my mouth to drink ice water the next. And I didn’t know anything until-“

Trevor pulled your face down to his level and slammed his lips onto yours to cut you off. When your lips parted, your foreheads were brought together, with Trevor whispering for you to breathe slow with him, thumb back to caressing your cheek.

“I wasn’t out for too long. Troy and Mason helped me off the ice, and Jimmy rushed over to the arena and rode with me to the hospital. Gibby drove Jimmy’s car to the hospital, and we took him home. Everything is okay,” he breathed out. His voice was soft, low, and steady— a wonderful combination to calm you down.

“I was so scared,” you whimpered.

“I know, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Come here,” he motioned for you to lay down next to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said.

“You can lay on my chest, it’s okay,” he assured.

You crawled into bed next to him and rested your head on his chest. Your hand came up to lay where you could feel his steady heart and you closed your eyes.

“I love you,” you told him.

“I love you, too.”

And with a kiss to the top of your head, you were out.

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jamie drysdale #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl players #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras angst

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acciocriativity · 5 months

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THE U IN US - ATEEZ SERIES - CHAPTER THREE

Summary: You weren't really the lonely girl™ of campus, but it does feel like it when you look around, and there's no one by your side when everyone else are talking and whispering between each other. You did have "friends", more like "group projet friends" that you managed to get for yourself, but they were the ones that were real close, you were there only when they had an extra empty seat. But it seems like the gods above took your nonchalant facade as a challenge. Oh, you don't think you need friends to survive through college? Bet.

Pairing: Non! idol OT8 ateez x reader (platonic)

Tags: college! au; hybrid! au; ateez! au; fluff (a whole lot of fluff and wholesomeness); angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of loneliness and insecurities; mentions of hybrid mistreatment and abuse

WC: 3,4k

N/A: It's finally here and a thousand words longer than the previous chapter! Please reblog my work and let me know if you want to he tagged in the next chapter <3

TWO MASTERLIST FOUR

You were always an early riser. The sun was breaking its first lights on the horizon as you got ready for the day, but there wasn’t a single bone of excitement in you.

Your room reflected the mask you were trying hard to wear early in the morning, spotless and perfectly organized, that was until anyone noticed how messy your bed still was.

You feel asleep early for any college major, but somehow slept a total of 4 hours only. None of them knocked on your door, and you didn’t hear a single peep or saw any lights on from your own slightly open door. They were capable of managing themselves well, you knew that, so you closed the door and were left to your own thoughts for the rest of the night.

Your brain wouldn’t stop running to all the things you needed to do while waiting for a more appropriate hour of the day to actually do them. It was a suffocating feeling, and you hated to feel so impotent. So you cleaned everything you came across at 12 A.M. trying to be as quiet as possible, too restless and tired of all the toss and turn you did already.

You walked out of your room, and it was almost like every single worry you had all night was just in your head. The cop, the plan, your father, they’re now living with you, the shopping you need to do, the paperwork you have to get, their legal documents you have to find wasn’t splashed on the beige walls and the cold porcelain of the floor, so maybe you could just ignore it before your coffee.

“Good morning”, Seonghwa said as you reached the 3/4 of the stairs, now sure that you could see him on the couch and he wouldn’t scare you. Still, he did notice how you grabbed harder on the handrail and had a hard time trying not to smile, but his ears twitching could give him away. “I’m sorry”.

“It’s ok”, you chuckled. “Have you been up for a while?”, you asked as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“No”, he looked over to the windows, the sunrise clear on the horizon. “I did not even notice how early it was until I came up here”.

It was partly true, there were no windows on the basement area, instead a huge glass door that lead to the pool on the other end of the corridor. He did not see the sun rising and did not take notice of the time, he just did not sleep at all.

“Want some coffee?”, you said as you went around the living room to the kitchen.

“Sure, thank you”, he said, but made no moves to follow you.

Seonghwa was enjoying the quiet to put his thoughts in order, something he couldn’t do lately. The last week took a toll on the whole pack to the point their scents changed a little due to stress. Nothing was planned and neither him nor Hongjoong wanted to put their trust and safety solely on your words.

Your presence on itself was something he couldn’t decide how he felt about it yet. It was annoying how submissive and fake most of them got in your presence, including Jongho, which was a shocking sight back on campus. It was in Seonghwa’s nature to be attentive and caring towards others, he was aware of it, but he only offers that to his pack and pack only. There were no humans left that are worthy of that, Jongho himself said to him once. Yeah, he saw you before. All of them ended up on the hybrid protection department at least twice until now. You were just a human child bored out of your mind. What’s so special about it?

“Here it is”, you left the mug on top of the coffee table, eye smiled at him and then left.

Seonghwa was paralyzed on his spot. He did not hear your steps nor your closeness to him. Now the only thing he could hear was his own-scared heart.

There was a dark cloud on top of Seonghwa’s head, so you give him his coffee quick and left him alone on the couch.

Now, you had at least a whole hour until you had to leave to take the subway. It was enough time to make a small breakfast for yourself and revise your notes for today, but not to make a decent meal for 9 freaking people.

You went to grab your coat near the entrance, even though in less than an hour it would be boiling hot outside.

“Can you tell the other boys I’m grabbing food for us?”, you raised your voice as you looked over Seonghwa, at least 10 feet away, still on the same spot as you left him starting at the wall.

He winced because of your loud tone, and you signed, now aware of your mistake.

“It won’t take long, sorry”, you just left, it felt like the best thing to do.

Perfect, you said to yourself.

Perfect, Seonghwa said to himself.

He knew some of the others could mess up this new arrangement out of guilt for searching around your father’s office, but he couldn’t let it happen.

Yunho was the first to walk downstairs, the both of them needed to have a little chat.

You could only hear the click and clack of the cutlery hitting the porcelain plates. For a table with 9 people, it was quieter than when you eat on your own.

The house was always just that, a house, a balance between a safe place for you to rest in and someone else’s property that you had no control over, but never you felt so uncomfortable in it.

The night before you noticed how proper Yunho and Jongho were, but now, looking at all of them, it seemed forced. It was, because it was. Of course, they were trained to be.

“You are really serious about food, aren’t you?”, you couldn’t take the silence anymore.

Most of them nodded, a small chuckle giving a little bit of life to the table. It was true, call hybrid instincts or whatever, but they meant business when it came to food, but they knew very well there was more than that to the atmosphere in the room, and it was best for you to stay unaware of it.

“It’s just that good”, Mingi said suddenly, as he took another bite of the fresh croissant. “Melting on my mouth”, he mumbled more to himself than anything, still a little shocked at how good it was.

Your neighbors glaring at you as you left with four filled bags out of the small bakery three blocks away was worth it.

“You should have it as a sandwich later”, you said, more than happy to have an actual conversation.

Mingi wanted to hear all about your best recommendations, while San, Yunho and Hongjoong had a staring contest.

Wooyoung, San and Yeosang, a trio you never imagined would work well together, but somehow it did.

On the way to university, you found out, actually, the three of them were dance majors, not just Wooyoung. To your surprise, Yeosang did most of the talking for them this time.

In all honesty, Yeosang just wanted to hide in a hole and disappear. Never in his life he thought he’d want Wooyoung to talk more or that he would wait for a miracle, but at that moment, he caught himself doing both.

Every single loud noise made him jump out of his skin, from the sound of the rails to the loud people talking on the phone. It was all too much all at once. Your attention on him and him only was new, his face was all red, and he couldn’t look into your eyes. His hands hugged his bag against his own chest, but the weight wasn’t enough. If it wasn’t for two hands on his thighs, a clear sign of protection and sureness, he wouldn’t be talking at all.

Bless your heart, you gave every bit of encouragement and reaction to every thing he said, but it was not helping.

“S-so, we were trai-”, Yeosang already small voice was interrupted by the announcement of the next station. The doors closed, and you held tighter onto the pole as it started to move again.

“Training for what?”, you asked as you did your best to maintain the space between you and San’s body.

“There is a performance at the end of the year”, Wooyoung said it, faster than Yeosang could think.

“That’s so cool, so there’s a date already?”

She thinks am I cool? It was unconscious how all of them perked up at the compliment. Wooyoung tail seemed like it had a mind of his own, swaying left to right. Yeosang turned even more red in the face, his fluffy gray ear covering the sides of his face as he recoiled between the two bodies on each side of him. San cleaned his throat as he looked the other way, he was not comfortable with how much he enjoyed it hearing such a small compliment from you.

Yeosang was a few beats late when he noticed you were still waiting for an answer.

“Oh, hum, no, I d-do not think so, right?”, he looked over to the other boys, who agreed.

“We’ll let you know so you can come see us”, Wooyoung said as he rubbed Yeosang’s back slowly.

“I’d love that, thank you, but are you sure it’s okay for me to come?”, you asked him, then glanced at San, who was already looking at you.

“We want you to come”, San said.

He said a ‘we’, when you were looking for an ‘I’.

It was a painful and awkward silent the rest of the way, until the three of you could breathe again.

“It’s not here”, Seonghwa said a second time since coming back to your father’s office.

He was already tired due to a sleepless night, now he had to spend all his energy to look for papers that weren’t even there.

“Then look again, it has to be here somewhere”, Hongjoong was loosing all his patience as he analyzed every single paper they found left on his desk.

Seonghwa took a deep breath. Hongjoong was being unreasonable, all of them already knew that, including Hongjoong himself.

“You know there’s no reason for why he would leave that behind, and it’s clear he hasn’t been here in a good while, so why are we doing this again?”, Seonghwa put the old box down on the table, all of it was useless anyway.

“This might be the only lead we get, do you just want to give up on him?”, the last two words barely a whisper as Hongjoong took a step closer to Seonghwa, the papers left scarred inside the drawer.

Both of them did not want Yunho, Mingi or Jongho to hear what was going on up there.

Standing so close to each other like this, eye to eye, they could almost touch the emotions swirling in the room. It was frustrating to Hongjoong. They had a goal and a chance, so why would they fail Yunho now? His anger, resentment and fear towards himself more than anything filled the room and suffocated both of them. Seonghwa looked nothing but empathetic and warm and welcoming to Hongjoong’s fears and worries, even when he could only feel the opposite, Hongjoong’s presence almost physically pushing him out.

It took Hongjoong only a moment to give up, which furthered Seonghwa’s worries.

“We’re going to figure it out”, Seonghwa whispered as he kneeled by Hongjoong’s side. He collapsed on the office floor, now holding onto himself. “We always do, don’t we?”

Hongjoong’s eyes seemed unfocused looking down to something on the ground, Seonghwa’s words barely registered in his mind.

When Seonghwa touched his shoulder, Hongjoong looked up to him.

“We always do, don’t we?”

“We do”, he sighed.

Seonghwa wished to say much more at that moment, but Hongjoong in that state would not hear it.

So he only did what he should do, offered a helping hand for Hongjoong to stand once more.

By the end of the day, you did all you could to not go back.

You called Jongho to tell him to get the food delivery when it was close enough to the house. He was surprised, jacket already on hand to buy lunch himself, but it was too late for a polite decline.

The bell rang and you hung up.

You did not come to eat with them, even though you had over two free hours in between classes, but they did not know that and even if they did, would they really call you out on it? It was more comfortable for them that way, so they could be free to behave like they wished to.

You stayed to study on the library after class, which you never did, you rather the comfort and quiet of your room for that, and it was barely 4 p.m.

The list was your salvation to skip dinner. This time, Jongho had time to thank you for the meal in the name of them all.

“It’s not a bother, don’t worry”, you said as you walked out of the second store, bags in hand and the phone tight between your shoulders and left cheek.

“We can cook for ourselves, you know. Don’t you trust us?”, he had that pouting voice through every word, and it took a small smile out of you.

“Of course I do, but you’re my guests and there’s a clear rule, guest don’t do any work around the house, so get used to it”, those words hit him like bricks when you thought it was a string of fresh water.

It was silent on the other side of the line, and you thought the call ended.

“Are you alright?”, his question caught you so off guard, you stopped walking in the middle of the busy street and a woman bumped into you with full force.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”, you smiled to her, but the woman didn’t look back to see your apologetic self.

Your voice was sincere, so Jongho allowed himself to stay calm.

She does not know, she’s not mad at you, he kept repeating to his stupid mind. Of course, you did not know and were not avoiding them on purpose because of it, but he felt his heart heavy still.

“We were just worried, you didn’t say anything so… but you’re safe then?”

“I’m coming soon, alright? Don’t worry about me, I’m just shopping for some stuff I need”, you walked faster, now feeling guilty to left them without a proper warning.

The moment Jongho hung up, the other 7 were waiting for an update. The winter night and the neighborhood made it seem later than it was. It was only 6:28 p.m., but there wasn’t a single soul outside and barely any noticeable noise.

“She’s coming soon”.

Mingi plopped on the couch, relieved. He barely talked to you, yet your presence and actions warmed him, and maybe he was getting too comfortable too fast, but just the thought of you leaving them now made him want to sob.

Yunho sat beside him and Mingi’s gray ears turned to him instinctively, but he had nothing to say. He knew Mingi well enough to know this meant something else to him, it was the possibility of another person abandoning him, and he was ashamed as it was of it. So Yunho did not point it out how that mentality wasn’t good for him at that moment, just offered his arm, that Mingi was elated to accept and cuddle with.

“Do not forget what we talked about today, can you do that Mingi?”, Seonghwa’s toned softened as he talked to him, a bit different from the actual conversation they all had.

Mingi only nodded.

It was a reminder for Yunho and Yeosang as well, no matter how they felt about the topic, they’d do their best to keep the roof on top of their heads.

Before you could grab the keys in your purse, the door suddenly opened.

You watched with your heart on your feet as a yearning Wooyoung took all four bags out of your hands and disappeared inside, too stunned to say anything.

“Uhm, Wooyoung, were you waiting for me?”, you asked as you stepped inside and closed shut the door behind you.

He hummed instead of answering you.

Beside him, there was no one in the living room, and the lack of noises was enough for you to assume they wanted to keep to themselves.

He carefully laid down your bags on the couch, then stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Is there anything else I can do to help you?”, he stood there shy and small in front of you.

“Yes, there is actually, but can we talk for a bit first?”

The contrast of his behavior from yesterday evening to this gave you whiplash. Is this Wooyoung, or that was Wooyoung? You need to stop trying to figure them out. They carried huge baggage with them, and maybe you’ll never get to see even a small percentage of it, that was clear to you. Still, it is hard to be the one that had to pretend and ignore the elephant in the room.

Wooyoung’s tail stopped its course in the air and his smile faltered, he nodded.

Both of you sat slightly turned to each other, but Wooyoung could not hold your stare, so he looked at the painting on the wall instead.

He thought his minds was playing tricks on him, but you seemed much nervous than he was. Your body was screaming to get out of there and run just like his. What could they’ve done for you to be so tense? Surely, you were not scared of him if you weren’t even scared of Hongjoong or San.

You took a deep breath. Your own mind exhausted you the whole evening and night because of this very moment, you were tired of overthinking every single thing they did.

“I just want to make it clear, so we can stop walking on eggshells around each other”, your voice was barely a whisper, still Wooyoung flinched at the reminder of his own confusing behavior towards you, just like the others he’s been hot and cold to you for no reason, when you’ve been nothing but nice to him. “I want you and the others to be here, and you do not have to do anything because you feel like you have to please me in return, can you understand that?”

He nodded.

“I am also not mad at you by any means because of yesterday”.

That made him look at you, because you deserved at least that level of respect, even though your face was a bit blurry through his tears. He knew your kindness was undeserving, and he would do anything to compensate for it, no matter what you say.

You wished to hug him, and maybe he read your mind, because a second later, Wooyoung launched himself into your arms.

It was a silent cry at first, you were stunned in place, surprise by the trust and vulnerability he was showing to you, then you heard his sobs and the sound broke your heart, you never heard before and never wanted to hear again.

You held him tight through the soft tears, loud cries and slurred words he muttered under his breath on your shoulder. Even when your arms stared to hurt, he did not let it go, so neither did you.

It was comfortable to be near you like this, for the first time Wooyoung understood why San liked you so much, and that did not leave a bitter taste in his mouth this time. You were warm and kind and really soft, almost better than his favorite blanket.

“Wooyoung”, you broke your little bubble, and he hummed into your neck. “Can you call the others for me, please? I bought some clothes for you all to try on”.

He was perfectly comfortable in that position, leaning into your side and the last thing on his mind was to move away, but the moment he looked at your soft eyes and pretty smile, he got up.

He should not be understanding San in this way.

Tagslist: @asherthehimbo @katsukis1wife @a1i33a @idfkeddieishot @pyeonghongrie-main @h3arteyes4mingi @huachengsbestie01 @hhoneylix @alxxxnya @queenproxy-blog @staytiny816 @loveforred @darlingz99 @sundayysunshine @puppyminnnie @officiallydarkgeek

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not-that-dillinger · 1 year

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Nevada Road Trip

(* closed starter for @systemadministratorclu *)

How Ed managed to not spoil the surprise, he didn't know. two months of planning a trip for the two of them, for his son's first time on the other side, and Clu was still... well, clueless.

(Son... they've known each other for two months now, and Ed still can't help the dopey grin every time he thinks about it.)

Well, perhaps not quite clueless. Clu had to know something was up when Ed suggested a very specific time and date, ("I found something I think you'll like, but it has to be exactly on this day"), Or certainly by now, when they were both about to leave the Grid, and Ed was practically vibrating with excitement.

The planning, of course, started when Quorra mentioned Clu wanted to see the stars. Which. Was a dilema, because the light pollution in Los Angeles made the night sky quite disappointing. The next best thing that Ed could think of was a visit to the planetarium. He tossed that idea out after a few seconds of contemplation. Ed personally didn't like crowds, and he didn't want to subject Clu to so many humans on his first time off the Grid. Too many random variables to mess things up. And Clu deserved better.

Ed was going to show Clu the stars.

And so Ed researched the best places to go star gazing.... Which lead to him stumbling into a Los Angeles amateur astronomer club forum.... which lead to three things.

First, it lead to the awareness of the Perseid meteor shower, which was going to peak in mid august.

It also led to Ed buying a (admittedly entry-level, but still really nice with several lenses) telescope. If it was partially because he had wanted one as a kid, that part was secondary. He couldn't wait to show it to Clu.

And most importantly, it led to him discovering dark sky sanctuaries.

And particularly the nearest one, which was about a twelve hour drive north of where they lived.

...In the nearly ten years Ed had worked for Encom, he had never used his time off, and so he had ten years' worth of it. He had never had a reason for a vacation, nobody to spend it with, until now. And so Ed all but gleefully informed Mackey that he was going to be taking a week off in August.

During the day, Ed planned the trip, and gathered supplies. A tent, sleeping bags and mats, a camping stove and small cooking set were added to his supplies. He planned stops along the way, and calculated the time they would need to get there just before sunset, leaving enough time for bathroom breaks and lunch.

During the evening, he did his best to prepare Clu to for what things would be like on the other side, showing him memories from his disc, answering questions, and or bringing him books to read and food to try (if Clu is going to spend over a day outside the Grid, Ed was going to make sure he had something to eat that he would actually like).

And he promised he'd stay the night the night before their grand adventure, so Clu wouldn't have to go through the portal alone for the first time.

And so the evening before the trip, Ed packed the telescope under an excessive amount of blankets and pillows, the camping gear, and several days worth of snacks that didn't require refrigeration into the car, then went to go visit Clu.

The morning of, Ed stood with Clu, doing his very best not to act like a little kid bouncing with his excitement, and activated the portal. "How are you feeling?" He asked softly as the column of light ignited a not far from where they stood. "Think you're ready?" As excited as he was to share his world with Clu, he knew Clu was at the very least, nervous, despite his best to reassure him everything would be alright.

Ed offered Clu a hand, a silent reassurance and promise that Ed would be right be right next to his son to help him, no matter what happened.

#...This post resulted in me sidetracking into looking up tents for star gazing...#which then devolved into looking for other camping gear #...I want to go backpacking now #sorry this took so long

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sailtomarina · 9 months

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Romantic, If a Bit Macabre

She’d burst from the Floo with all the grace of a forest troll straight into Blaise’s drawing room, interrupting the third round of drinks. Draco had just been in the middle of explaining to Pansy that he was not interested in a blind date with yet another friend of hers—just because he and Hermione had broken up did not mean he was ready to get under someone new.

The littlest of details reminded him of her. A line from a song playing in the background at the pub. A book left along a side table, as if waiting to be picked up and finished. The hint of cinnamon when he walked by their favorite bakery, or wafting up from someone’s hot cocoa. He couldn’t escape her no matter where he went, and the twisted thing was that he had been the one to end things.

He’d pursued her so relentlessly at the start, wooed her into acceptance. Their sex was…there weren’t words to describe that level of compatibility. Once she was his and he was hers, he thought they had obtained their happy ever after. For a while—1 year, 2 months, and 23 days to be exact—that was the truth of it.

Then he had to go and muck it all up by asking her to marry him.

She said no.

That was that. The next day, Ginny showed up at the flat they had shared for half a year and packed up all her belongings. She even took Hermione’s favorite mug, separating it from the paired set to which it belonged.

Hermione’s reasons for refusal were simple in that they defined her. How could he deny her dreams? With her planned career path, she didn’t have time to devote to marriage, didn’t want to change her name, and didn’t want to have children yet. Never mind the fact that Draco had never expected any of those things. He didn’t care about continuing the Malfoy legacy and hadn’t for a long time. All he wanted was to be bound to her in the most intimate of ways.

Now she was here, Floo powder dusting her chunky maroon jumper and a streak of soot across her nose. The curls she’d taken to straightening for work were out in full force the way he preferred and dancing in a halo around her head like a creature possessed. She was breathing heavily as if she’d just sprinted across a field, her cheeks flushed red. Draco thought she’d never looked more lovely.

Hermione took three long strides and grabbed the closest person to her by the collar.

“Wha-what’s going on?” Theo cried, just managing to hand off his whiskey glass to Blaise before stumbling along behind her.

“You’re going to be our witness,” snapped Hermione.

She came to a halt in front of Draco. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what he’d done this time to earn the intensity that emanated from her tiny frame. And why did she need a witness?

“Go on, take out your wand.” She waved at Theo impatiently.

Draco took a sharp breath the instant her eyes turned away, and shrugged at the confused looks his friends sent their way.

“What’s going on, Granger?” He asked quietly. If he was about to die, he wanted to at least know why.

The faintest flicker of something, an emotion he couldn’t place, appeared before she schooled her face back to confidence. “I’m here to remedy a wrong.”

“A wrong,” he repeated.

They stared at one another for an awkward amount of time, likely only a few seconds, but it felt like minutes.

“Can you elaborate?” Did she want him to apologize for proposing?

Hermione took a deep breath and as his eyes scanned her figure, he realized she was gripping the hem of her jumper in a familiar gesture attempting self-control.

That flicker he’d seen earlier was fear.

“I overreacted when you proposed to me. I pushed you away instead of listening.” Her words came out in a single exhale as if they’d been waiting to vomit up from the moment she’d appeared.

He probably should have felt relieved, but all Draco could feel at the moment was numb confusion.

“And how are you going to right overreacting and not listening?” His eyes panned over to Theo, who still stood with his wand held at an awkward angle awaiting instruction.

The unexpected feeling of her hand, so small and warm, taking his own snapped his attention back to her. She stared up at him like she was looking for something. Reassurance? Permission? Draco would give it all to her if only he knew how.

“I just need to know one thing first,” she said, just soft enough to stay between the two of them. In the motion to take his hand, she had stepped close into him. He tried not to greedily gulp in her comforting scent.

His voice came out rougher than intended. “Ask away.”

She continued to stare up at him for a few beats more, blinking heavily and lips parting in the waiting. Draco felt frozen within the amber of her eyes, caught like an insect and helpless to the flow of time.

“Do you still love me?”

He sucked in a deep breath. He’d been holding it in anticipation of her question, and now he felt like the hourglass had turned and the sands were rushing him along towards a yet unknown end.

“Of course I do.”

Hermione nodded as if she’d expected that answer, but the loosening of tension in her jaw revealed her relief. She turned back to Theo. “I need you to be our bonder. Place your wand against our hands.”

Bonder?

“I, Hermione Granger…”

His heart thundered in his ears, nearly drowning her out. “Hermione, you don’t have to—”

“…promise to always listen and communicate.”

“Love, please—”

“I promise to cherish you as you deserve and make time for us. I vow to stay true to my love for you, Draco Malfoy, for as long as you share that love.” She turned to nod at Theo, but before the other wizard could bind the oath, Draco cut in.

“I, Draco Malfoy, will never stand in the way of your dreams.”

“Oh, Draco…”

“I promise to support you in every way I know how to help you achieve them. I vow to match every one of the oaths that you’ve made to me and to love you until my very last breath.”

He willed her to feel his resolution through his gaze and grip. The first time he’d been involved in an Unbreakable Vow had been without his knowledge when his mother had made Severus promise to protect him. Draco knew the consequences of a broken vow. He also knew that he could never, ever break this one.

Tears spilled from her eyes as he continued to hold on to her and the golden threads of their oath wrapped around from wrist to wrist. They might as well have been alone, their friends and surroundings fading into nothingness as the light of their promises glowed all around them. They only saw each other and the hope of the future ahead of them.

“Granger, did you seriously prefer an Unbreakable Vow to waiting for me to set you up with Draco?”

Pansy’s shrill voice broke through the spell, effectively dispersing the tension in the air.

“Well, I thought it was romantic, if a bit macabre,” drawled Blaise. He took a sip from what was probably Theo’s glass, given he held an empty one in his other hand.

Draco still held her hand in his own even though the magic of their vow had faded. She didn’t try to pull away, instead nestling forward as he proceeded to wrap his free arm around her. He peered down at her, a smirk starting to form on his lips.

“You were Pansy’s blind date?”

She snorted into his chest. “Yes, you prat. You shouldn’t have turned her down the past few times. We could’ve resolved this much sooner.”

“You realize accepting would’ve meant me moving on, right?”

This time it was her turn to grin up at him, a knowing glint in her eye. “Yes, but I would’ve pulled you right back to me.”

“You’re a witch.”

“I’m your witch.”

The groans that followed reminded them that no, they were not alone. “Get a room, you two!”

So, they did.

WC 1404

DHR Month Fest Prompt: Week 2 - Bonds, September 10 - Unbreakable Vow

Cross-posted on AO3

Big props to Pansy for helping Hermione try to fix things up with Draco, am I right?

While an Unbreakable Vow might be over the top, I don't think it's too unlike Hermione to do something so extreme given what she was like growing up with Harry. The girl has zero chill.

#dramione month #dramionemonth #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

Hate To Love You | ii

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, female masturbation, slight touch of (consenting!!) voyeurism, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, a bit of choking, unprotected sex (god please wear protection, im sorry i keep doing this), sex in a sort of kinda public place, shower sex, continuing to have sex while someone is talking to you ? Idk what that’s called but yeah, that, swearing, talking about toxic ex’s, fluff, angst, love triangle shit, sad Danny and Sammy (very much deserves a warning), sorry if I missed anything!

without further ado, here’s part two! Hope you enjoy :) also fair warning that this is actually kind of filthy by times 😭 I’m unsure of where that came from, but anyway. beware, this kind of has emotions all over the place. also disclaimer, I set this up as a terrible situation right from the beginning because for some reason i literally live for writing angst. i only started this fic bc i knew how i wanted it to end. it’s a character flaw now ig. please be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

Your heart drummed in your chest as your hand slipped around the doorknob, opening the door and sliding through the crack. You let out a sigh of relief when the latch clicked behind you with no interruptions. See, the plan was that there was no plan. Just you and Sam inconspicuously sneaking off at different times and hoping nobody would notice that you’d both magically disappeared without a trace. So far, it had worked out in your favour. And if it hadn’t, nobody had said anything yet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest course of action, but it was the one you were going with. You decided you would reap the consequences when they made themselves known.

You took a seat on the couch of Sam’s dressing room, crossing your legs and leaning into the arm. Their set finished in five minutes, which was your cue to get moving. In no way were you willing to be caught sneaking into his room by one of his brothers after they got off stage. You checked your phone to see if you had any missed messages, but the screen was blank. You pulled up your camera, checking your hair and makeup to make sure you looked good. You sighed as you clicked your screen shut, tapping your fingers against the leather of the sofa with growing impatience.

The boys has started a small tour, just for about a month, and it was wrapping up in the next week. But, the month had been too long for your liking. It had been weeks since you’d seen Sam, or any of the others, for that matter. They had a show booked for a venue a few cities over from where you were living. You had managed to convince their tour manager, which you’d met a few times in the past, to sneak you in the back door so you could surprise Sam. Guilt was creeping up on you for not telling Danny about your arrival, but you were desperate to see the boy who’d been occupying your mind for weeks on end. You loved your best friend, but Sam had somehow wormed his way into your heart and showed no signs of leaving. He consumed almost every one of your thoughts. He’d been plaguing your phone with messages of missing you, and some rather provocative voice messages and photographs. He was making sure you wouldn’t forget about him. Little did he know, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could. So, you packed up for the weekend when the chance arose, just so you could curb the need for his company for a few more days.

So far, to the best of your knowledge, he had no idea. Before you’d arrived that night, Sam had texted you his daily countdown of how many days were left until he could see you. You were quite confident that you were still in the clear. One thing you hadn’t really thought out was how you were going to leave the venue without anyone knowing you’d been in there. And also, how the hell you were going to sneak in and out of his hotel room. You’d worry about that later, though. All you were concerned with was seeing the boy who’d been occupying your mind every night for weeks on end.

You’d fully intended on telling everyone about your’s and Sam’s new found relationship the night it had begun. Somewhere along the lines, the plan was lost in translation. The sneaking around had become thrilling, to say the least. Pretending to hate each other like usual, but sneaking off to a bathroom to make out, sneaking touches when no one was looking or from under the table, or leaving parties ten minutes after each other to go back to Sam’s place, was kind of hot. Plus, the idea of growing the relationship together first, making sure it would last before announcing it to everyone seemed most logical in your brain. But, above all, you were terrified of hurting Danny by telling him. Realistically, you knew deep down it might hurt him more by hiding it, but you were terrified of being the person to cause him any sort of pain. This had been dragging on for months now, no end in sight.

You were jolted back to reality when you had heard laughing and shuffling from the hallway. You immediately sat up, straightening yourself out. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips, practically vibrating with excitement. You were eager to see his reaction when he came in. When the doorknob twisted, your heart could have exploded. The door pushed open and Sam stepped inside, not noticing you immediately. The door fell shut behind him with a thud. He was glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his neck, shirtless and barefoot. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the sight.

“Great show you put on, Sammy. Think I’d be able to get an autograph?” You asked sweetly. His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment to process what was in front of him.

“Y/n?” He asked, still barely believing you were there. You jumped up, running over to him. He picked you up in a hug, kissing you as if it was the last time he ever would. You didn’t care if he was sweaty, you were just happy you were finally back in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, still holding you. Your legs were wrapped around him, his hands supporting your bum.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, and I pulled some strings at work.” You whispered, kissing him again. It was soft, but imminent, showing him all the emotion you had pent up since he left. “I missed you so much, Sammy.” You whispered against his lips.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He said, resting his forehead on yours. “Does anyone else know you’re here?” He asked, gently letting you back down to the ground. You shook your head.

“As much as I love everyone else, I just needed to see you.” He understood what you meant, feeling the same way. “I drove here, so maybe I can just sneak out and meet you at your hotel once you get there?” You asked, hopeful. For the first time so far, sneaking around was much less than hot and way more of a pain in the ass.

“I mean, yeah, if you’d like to do that, we can.” He said, brushing some stray hairs from your eyes. “As long as I get to sleep next to you tonight, I’ll be happy.” He admitted. You couldn’t agree more.

“I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t really think it all out too much. Five days just seemed so long.” You laughed, feeling a little dumb.

“That’s okay,” he rushed out “I’m more than happy to see you, trust me.” He let his fingers trail over your jaw, then down your neck and landing his palm on the back of your neck. He pulled you in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last. You could feel the shift in the dynamic before it was even over. “Bathroom, now.” He ordered once he’d pulled away. The sweet side vanished, quickly overpowered by desire.

“Why?” You cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Because you’re going to get in the shower with me, and I’m going to fuck you.” He stated, simply. His eyes showed no hint of joking.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup. I prettied myself up just for you.” You smirked, knowing your disobedience to the order would get him going. “Don’t you want to appreciate it, first?”

“Oh, I have.” He paused, eyes looking you up and down. “I’m not going to say it again; go to the bathroom and take your clothes off.” He growled. You tilted your head to the side, staying in place, a sweet smile stuck on your lips. You always found it fun to mess with him. He was already tired of waiting for you, his patience never really existing in the first place.

“Make me.” Your cheekiness was quickly brought to a halt when he reached up, taking your throat in his hand. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, still terrified to hurt you in any way. He smiled, admiring the look on your face. He caught your lips in a kiss before tightening his grip slightly.

“I don’t think you want me to have to do that, sweetheart.” He whispered. You gave a nod, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs. “Now get in there and take your fucking clothes off.” You weren’t sure if Sam had normally been dominant in the bedroom, or if it was an extension of your relationship dynamic from almost the entire time you’d known him. Either way, you weren’t complaining.

He let you go, putting a little force behind it as he did so. You stopped yourself from stumbling and turned on your heels quickly, making your way to the bathroom without another word. You wasted no time ridding your clothes from your body, leaning against the counter to wait for him. You heard shuffling in the other room, presumably just Sam straightening some things out before he joined you. Your mind wandered to what he was going to do with you once he got you in the shower. You were out of your mind with anticipation; you had no idea how you went so long without having sex before Sam. Now that you were with him, it was all you wanted to do.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts consume you, reaching a hand down between your legs for some type of satisfaction. You ran your fingers through your wetness, spreading it up to your clit, rubbing small circles. A gasp fell from your lips as you did so, but you couldn’t help but wish it was Sam’s fingers instead. You found yourself lost in the moment, not even noticing when the door opened until you heard someone speak. “You couldn’t even wait for me, princess?” A disapproving tone broke you from your concentration you quickly moved your hand, embarrassed to be caught. Sam moved towards you, now only clad in a pair of boxers. He grabbed your arm, roughly putting your fingers back to where they were before he’d interrupted. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He reminded.

You watched him, cheeks flushed, trying to process what he was saying. His jaw was hard set, clearly worked up himself. Slowly, you returned to touching yourself, waiting for his approval. He took a step back, allowing himself full view. His breath caught in his throat. “Get up on the counter.” He demanded. You did as you were told without question, placing your hands on the cool surface and hoisting yourself up. You watched him watch you, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It had been far too long since he’d seen you like this. You placed your hands between your legs once more, but feeling a bit nervous being on display. “Don’t be shy, baby.” He said, reaching out and spreading your legs for you. “You wouldn’t have been touching yourself in here if you didn’t want me to catch you.” He said. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. “Am I wrong?” You shook your head ‘no’. Although it wasn’t your original intent, a small part of you definitely wanted him to walk in on you. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“No, Sammy.” You said softly, feeling the anxiety slipping away.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was gravelly. You could tell by his tone he was trying not to take you right there, but he was a bit too cocky to give in so quickly. “Get yourself off.” He ordered.

“Sam-“ you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“Shut up.” He snapped. You stopped, immediately scared that he wouldn’t allow you an orgasm at all. I said, get yourself off.” His hand was still on your knee. Although his tone was harsh, the loving circles he’d been tracing into your skin assured you it was an act. “Then, I’ll make you cum.” He assured you. “I just want to see how you did it while I was gone. Did you think of me?”

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled softly, picking up the pace in which you were rubbing yourself. “Wished it was you every time.” You mumbled.

“Oh so it was more than once?” Arrogance was radiating from him, but you couldn’t help but watch him with nothing but admiration. “Answer me, beautiful.” He said palming himself through his boxers.

“All of the time.” You answered truthfully. You let in a sharp inhale, feeling yourself getting close to your climax.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.” He admitted, hand trailing up your bare thigh. You could tell he was struggling not to touch you.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me, Sammy?” You wanted to put on a show for him, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling him closer to you. He let out a groan at your actions, tightening his fingers around your leg. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do.” He spat, still rubbing himself, trying to get some relief. “Just worry about you. I’m getting impatient. If you don’t hurry up you may not get to cum at all.” You did as he said, quickening your pace and adding your fingers to the mix with your unoccupied hand. “That’s it, gorgeous.” He sighed, his eyes focused on your cunt. With the added stimulation of your other hand, you were painfully close to your climax. You threw your head back, closing your eyes and letting out a moan. Sam acted fast, grabbing your face in his hand and forcing your head back down. “Look at me. I want to watch you.” The statement caused your hands to stutter.

With his eyes locked on yours, gaze unwavering, you gave into the pleasure. Your orgasm hit you hard, way harder than it had in the past weeks. His eyes hardened, scared if he looked away from you, you’d disappear. Your own eyes rolled back in your head as you rode the high, desperate for air. “S-sammy!” You stuttered, almost as if you were praying to him.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, bringing your lips to his. He was painfully hard, already planning on getting you right off the counter into the shower. When he pulled away, you removed your hands from yourself, to which he immediately replaced them with his own. A strangled cry came from your mouth as his calloused fingertips brushed over your overly sensitive clit, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam, please,” you pleaded, trying to push his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re fine.” And he was right, you were. After a few moments of unbearable sensitivity, the euphoric feeling had hit you ten times harder. You were practically screaming your noises of pleasure, only fuelling him further. “Come on, princess.” He whispered, working his fingers into you. “I want you to cum like that for me.” And you did, clenching around his hand while crying his name. Tears were welling in your eyes as your legs shook, hips locked in a solid position. Your throat was hoarse, and you were sure the entire venue would have heard you if not for the concrete walls.

Just when you thought he would coddle you, maybe pull you in for a kiss, he removed himself from you completely. He walked to the shower, flicking the tap on. He threw his boxers away hastily and returned to your side. He didn’t utter a word as he picked you up. “Legs around me, now.” He ordered. You did as best you could to obey, barely being in the conscious mind. He stepped into the shower, still holding you, and pressed your back against the wall. The cool tile felt nice on your warm skin. He supported you with one hand while lining himself up with you with his other. He pulled you down on him, eliciting a groan from you. “Fuck I missed you,” he muttered, withdrawing his hips slightly and pushing himself back in. He stayed slow in that position, wanting to enjoy being close to you again without getting too intense. His head was buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings while he sucked and bit marks into your skin.

“I love you, Sammy.” You mumbled, so fucked out you were barely aware of what you were saying. He paused his movement entirely, pulling his head away from you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ you rushed out, finally coming to your senses. When he dropped you to your feet, your stomach churned with anxiety. He didn’t say a word, but watched you meticulously. You were starting to panic, tears rushing to your eyes. “I’ll just… I’m gonna g-go.” You excused yourself, making a move to get out of the shower. He grabbed your waist, his fingers searing into your skin. He pushed you against the wall of the shower so your chest was flush, but pulled your hips back towards him.

“Say it again.” He barked, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He lined himself back up with you.

“What?” You questioned, unsure of what was going on.

“Fucking say it again.” He hissed.

“I- I love you, Sam.” You said with more certainty. He pushed himself into you, moving his hand to your hip. The steam from the heat of the shower was filling your senses, sending you back into euphoria as he started to fuck you again.

“Again.” He pleaded, all tones of assertion gone, replaced with a touch of desperation.

“I love you, Sammy.” You repeated, confident this time. His hips sped, pushing your face into the tile with every thrust. Something had taken over him, he was more animalistic with you than he’d ever been. You were driving him crazy by saying it. He leaned down, leaving love bites all over your shoulders, gripping you so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You let out a blissful moan as he hit your g-spot. He continued on at that angle, loving the noises you’d been making for him.

A knock sounded at the door just as you were both reaching your peak. You expected him to pull out, or at least slow down, but he continued on. “Brother?” Someone called out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?” Sam yelled back, voice unfaltering.

“You okay, man? You’ve been in there for a while. We’re getting ready to head to the bar.” You could recognize the voice as Josh’s. You had been trying to stay as silent as possible, but Sam did not make it easy. He’d slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers dancing over your already abused clit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t feel too good, don’t know what hit me.” He lied so effortlessly that even you could have believed him if not for him being inside of you.

“Oh, okay, man. You think you’re gonna join us? Should we wait up?” He questioned. A whimper fell from your lips as he had hit the perfect spot. His free hand clamped around your mouth.

“No, you guys can go. I’ll be done here soon, then I’ll probably go to the hotel and call it an early night.” You couldn’t understand how his voice was so steady. You chalked it up to him singing and talking while he jumped around on stage.

“Okay, text us if you change your mind and we’ll let you know where we are.” Josh yelled.

“Will do!” Sam answered. He waited a moment until he heard the bang of the main door shutting, then he removed his hand from your mouth.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” You whispered, still scared Josh would overhear you.

“You certainly weren’t complaining.” He muttered, slamming his hips back into you. You let out a gasp. “Actually, I think you’re gonna cum.” He said, smugly. He was correct. Damn him for knowing your body too well. He swirled his fingers over your clit a few more times before you unravelled, slurring out profanities. “That’s it, baby.” Sam groaned, not far behind you. “Tell me you love me again.” He ordered once you can down from your high.

“I love you.” You said softly, no tone of arrogance or anything other than honesty. He took a sharp intake of breath and reached his own orgasm, moaning your name and pulling you back down on him as it happened. He rested in you for a moment, just basking in the closeness. Eventually, he withdrew and you turned to face him.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said, eyes drooping with exhaustion. You couldn’t help but smile at the confession. “I love you so much.” He sighed, pulling your chin up so he could lean down to kiss you. “We seem to have a thing for fucking in bathrooms, though.” He stated once you broke apart. You both laughed at the statement.

You finished your shower with him, both of you slipping out and wrapping yourselves in towels. You dried off and picked up your clothes, making a move to go back to the main room. He followed closely behind, not wanting you to leave his sight. When you dropped your towel, he gave your ass a smack. You jumped in surprise, letting out a giggle. He went over to his bag and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants, tossing them in your direction. “Here, if you’d like to leave undetected.” He smiled. You nodded, slipping on the bottoms. You had to cuff the sweatpants quite a few times and tie the drawstrings, but you made it work. You threw his hoodie on, leaving the hood up.

You revelled in the confines of the sweater, breathing in the scent. It smelled just like him and it warmed your heart. “You look good in my clothes.” He said, pulling on another pair of his pants. That was one thing you had to laugh at, Sam packed a bag like a middle aged woman on vacation; two outfits for every occasion. He grabbed his wallet from a pile of his things and opened it, pulling out a hotel keycard. “I got two at check in, cause I always end up losing one.” He chuckled. “Guess it really came in handy, this time.” He handed it to you. “The room number’s written on it too.” You slipped it in your pocket.

“Guess so, baby.” You said, giving him a smile. He leaned down to place another kiss to your lips. You held him there for a moment, never wanting to lose the feeling. When you pulled away, you let your hand rest on his cheek. “I’m gonna head out, try and avoid everyone.” You informed him.

“Sure,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“I will, Sammy.” You said, making your way to the door. “Oh, uh, can you bring my clothes back with you?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed at your earlier interaction. A blush rose to your cheeks. He laughed at you, nodding his head at your request.

“Of course.” He followed you as you left, leaning against the doorway as you walked out. He watched you make your way to the exit, smiling to himself.

“Hey, who’s that?” A voice sounded from beside him. Sam looked to see Danny standing, watching you walk away, too.

“Oh, uh, just some chick from the front row.” Sam brushed it off. “Asked security to pull her back here before she left.” He lied quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

“Ah, I see,” Danny said. “And you let her take your clothes home?”

“Yeah, just old shit anyway. Figured I’d never miss it.”

“Uh huh,” Danny paused, knowing that the clothes in question were some of his favourites. “And how do you think y/n would feel if she found out you were fucking groupies?” Sam nearly choked on his breath, whipping his head to look at Danny.

“What?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Come on, man. We all know. You think you guys are being sneaky, but we know you both way too well.” He chuckled. “Just wish you guys would have told me, you know?” He said before he walked off.

“Wait, Danny!” Sam called to him, but he wasn’t turning around.

“Also, you guys are obnoxiously loud.” He said before disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself, turning on his heels and walking back into his room.

•

You pushed through the door of the hotel, taking in the sight of the front lobby. It was beautiful. You didn’t have too much experience with hotels, or travel. Your parents were quite poor growing up, and you never really broke the curse as you grew into adulthood. Hotels and anything of the sort, no matter if they were five star or not, were quite luxurious to you. The lady at the front desk gave you a warm smile as you passed by. You mumbled a hello, returning her gesture. You went directly to the elevator, pressing the button to go upstairs. The doors swung open, inviting you inside.

You looked at the paper holder containing the keycard, seeing the room number written messily on the outside of it. You clicked the floor number and waited. You laughed at the messy penmanship; Sam could be so forgetful by times. Luckily, this time around, it really worked in your favour. The ding of the elevator broke you from your thoughts. The doors parted and you stepped into the hallway. Your legs carried you down the hall, eyes scanning the bold black numbers labelling the rooms.

You landed in front of the room that matched the number on the card, swiping the key in front of the sensor. The electronic lock clicked open and you stepped inside. Upon first inspection, it was so blatantly clear that this was Sam’s room. His cologne was still present in the air from before he’d left for the venue, a towel was left on the bathroom floor, and a few different outfits were strewn on the bed. The blankets were messy and the pillows were all over the mattress. You smiled to yourself, dropping your bag by the T.V. stand and immediately crawling in the mess of pillows, pulling the blanket over you. The pillowcase smelled like Sam’s shampoo, inviting you in and lulling you to sleep. It had been far too long since you fell asleep surrounded by him.

Without even realizing it, you drifted off into a slumber more peaceful than any you’d had while he was away.

About thirty minutes later, Sam was unlocking the door himself and making his way inside. He dropped his own bag by the door, kicking off his shoes. When he looked to the bed, his heart melted at the sight of you. He walked over, carefully sitting on the bed beside you. He ran a hand through your still damp hair, gently brushing out any knots. As you began to stir, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. You let out a small groan, slowly coming back to life. You stretched out your legs, taking in a large breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Sam said softly, hand still tangled in your hair. “Have a good nap?” You couldn’t help but smile. It had felt like an eternity since you’d woken up next to him.

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” You whispered.

“Good thing I’m here now, then.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his interaction with Danny earlier, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the reunion. He knew he’d have to eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time for it. You opened your arms, reaching out for him to lay beside you. “Just a second.” He promised, standing up. He took off his shirt leaving himself just in his sweatpants. You watched him, silently admiring him as he moved. You made a move to take your pants off, wanting as much closeness with him as you could get. You tossed them onto the floor beside you, scooting over a bit to give him some more room to climb in.

He picked up the comforter, sliding in next to you and wasting no time pulling you to his chest. The warmth of his body immediately relaxed you. “I know I already said it, but I missed you, Sammy.” You mumbled, eyes closing once more.

“I missed you too, baby.” He said, his hand snaking under your far too large sweatshirt, caressing the skin on your hip. “I promise I’ll take you out on a date when we get home, I just want to be here with you tonight. I want you all to myself.” He admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed. You both sat in silence for a moment, not moving, just soaking up each others company. Eventually, he pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs. Your head rested on his stomach, your arms brought to your chest, curling the blanket up to your chin. He played with the ends of your hair, letting the locks fall through his long fingers.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” He asked.

“Which part?” You asked for clarification.

“That you loved me.” His hands worked their way up to your scalp, gently massaging it. You let out a hum of pleasure at the feeling.

“Yeah, I did, Sammy.” You whispered, your own hand now moving to his stomach, tickling his skin with your fingertips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed at the contact, causing a small giggle to fall from you. “Of course I did.” You added. “I was scared that it was too soon, you looked almost… mad when I said it. But I meant it.” He laughed quietly at your words, finding it ridiculous that you thought he’d be mad at you.

“I wasn’t mad, y/n. Shocked, yeah, for sure. I wasn’t expecting you to say it.” He admitted. “But I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day I met you. If that was the only thing you said to me for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.” His hand that wasn’t knotted in your hair came down on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you?” He whispered now, gentle with his tone. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just so used to my past boyfriends being mad at me all of the time. I suppose it’s just in my nature to expect you to be mad, or assume I did something wrong.” You confessed. His heart leapt at the use of the word boyfriend. That had not been discussed yet, but he certainly didn’t mind the sound of it. On the other hand, he was curious. He’d never heard you talk much about your former partners.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He didn’t want to pry, but he did want to know more. He gave you the option to tell him or not.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You sighed. “Not much of a story, I guess. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. He was a dick. I dated him all through high school and moved in with him after graduation. He was mean and I didn’t know that it wasn’t how I should be treated. I didn’t know anything else.” A frown encased his lips. “He never let me go out, or have any friends. He wanted me to do anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. He always wanted to fight with me and according to him, I could never do anything right. That’s how I met Danny, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Sam never actually got close enough with you to know much about you in the beginning. He knew you were beautiful, funny and kind. He knew you adored Danny, but not why. He knew enough to fall for you, but he really wanted to know you, now. He wanted the little things constantly stored in the back of his head so he could use them as needed. He wanted to know what made you, you.

“After a particularly bad fight, I went to a bar to get some cheap liquor.” You laughed at the memory. “I’m not sure why, but it seemed right at the time. I barely drank back then. But Danny showed up, he was just finishing up with you guys at the studio. He sat beside me and bought some god-awful looking beer.” You shuddered at the thought. No matter how hard Danny tried to convince you it was good, you couldn’t stand the taste of it. “He introduced himself and noticed I’d been crying. He talked to me all night, wanting to know everything about me. It was the first time I’d ever felt…” you pondered for the right word. “Seen.” You finished. “He was the only person in my life by that point, who’d ever cared enough about me to want to know everything. And he barely knew me.” You had to laugh.

Sam felt a rush of jealousy flood through him, but he pushed it aside. “He offered me a place to stay because my boyfriend at the time told me to get out, and that he never wanted to see me again. You know why?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled, still listening intently.

“A male coworker sent me a friend request on Facebook.” You whispered. “It was bound to happen eventually, and I had an apartment lined up just in case. Things had been really bad for a while. But he just kicked me out, he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Just opened the door for me like I’d meant nothing to him for six years.”

“That’s terrible, y/n.” Sam consoled you, pulling you closer to him as he spoke. ‘I’d never do that to you.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, but I never would’ve ended up here if it didn’t happen.” You reminded him. “But Danny came with me as backup to get my shit from his house. He helped me move into the apartment I live in now. We got wine drunk together and the rest was history. He didn’t care that I was broken. He didn’t care that I had no idea how to make friends, because I was never allowed to have them. Just wanted to be with me.” You shrugged. Sam tried his best to just hear your words rather than think about how Danny felt about you, but he was struggling. “You know, I prayed for months that something would happen, anything to make life better. And he showed up that night. Just waltzed in and changed everything in an instant.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Sam couldn’t help it. The jealousy was surging through him. He wanted to listen to you talk, but his heart was breaking at the words you were saying. You lifted your head to look at him, noticing the expression of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do, Sam.” You were honest. “But it’s never been like that for me.” His body relaxed slightly. “Danny was always meant to be my best friend. He’s been the person I looked for my whole life. Someone to do stupid shit with, to make memories, to be my kids godparent, I love him more than anything, but I’m not in love with him, Sammy.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. I just… yeah.” He muttered. “I just get nervous, I guess. I know how he feels about you. I know how much he cares for you, and you for him. It’s hard to think that he could steal you away at any given moment.” He laughed quietly, more to himself. “You know, it would’ve made so much more sense if you ended up with him. He deserves you way more than I do.” He said, guilt seeping through his pores.

“It was never a matter of ‘deserving’ anything. If I wanted to be with Danny, I would be. I’m in love with you, and I always knew it would end up like this. The minute I met you… it was like all of the bullshit from the past didn’t matter. The pain from the last relationship didn’t hurt, because it brought me to you. It made it all make sense, you know?” You sighed, fingers still dancing with his. “I know we treated each other like shit for a long time, but I always knew. From the minute I saw you, I wanted to love you, to be in love with you. I wanted this, exactly what we’re doing right now.” His heart drummed against his ribs, threatening to break them. He couldn’t believe how much you affected him.

“Me too, baby.” He sighed. “All I want to do is love you; I’m sorry that I was an asshole for so long.” You sat up, moving around to sit on him. You straddled his waist, pulling his face in your hands and running your thumb over his cheek.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?” He smiled at your words, putting his hands on your hips.

“I guess so.” He agreed, catching your lips in a kiss. “I’m so lucky to be able to love you.” He breathed as you parted ways. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you; I want to make sure that you know how you deserve to be loved. I hope I can do it properly.”

The sentiment of his words hung over the room like a cloud of serenity. You two enjoyed the alone time, rolling around in the bed, sharing kisses and laughs. You played music softly in the background, singing along to songs that had no meaning to you until that night. The evening dwindled by too quickly for either of your liking, slipping into the late hours of the night and eventually to the earliest ones of the morning. You wanted to live in that moment forever, where nothing was wrong and it was just the two of you making up for lost time. Sam made it so easy to fall for him, with his sweet words, loving touches and fantastic sex. He treated you better than you ever could have imagined a partner doing. The months of romance felt like an eternity; you felt like you’d known him like this your whole life.

Eventually, exhaustion enveloped the two of you and the music that was once fuelling your energy turned into lullabies. Sam was on his side, facing you with his arm draped over your bare torso. Somewhere in the events of the night, you both had ended up naked, but not resulting in a sexual motive. The intimacy of being completely exposed with no intent of sex was beautiful. It was just the two of you seeing each other completely, loving each other fully. Your eyes were drooping, barely being able to hold them open. His were similar, but he was forcing himself to stay awake so he didn’t miss a second of admiring you. His eyes on you, holding so much emotion behind them, felt like pure bliss. Being appreciated by Sam was the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced.

“I love you, princess.” He whispered, voice laced with sleep. “So much.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You said, the words coming straight from your heart. You were sure that you both had said it a million times that night alone, but the novelty of the phrase was too exiting to stop. Finally, the proclamation of emotion you’d both been feeling for so long was in the air, accepted and desired.

“I’m gonna take you to breakfast in the morning, before you have to go. Just me and you.” He promised. You smiled at his words but your chest ached at the realization you’d have to leave him again the next day. Although the time between now and seeing him next was much shorter than the one previous, you didn’t want to be away from him at all.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” You laughed at him, barely awake and still trying to hold a conversation. You had both closed your eyes, finally giving your bodies a chance to rest, just minutes away from sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head quickly finding its way to the crook of his neck. You drifted to sleep to the scent of him, finally feeling at home.

•

A violent knock on the door shook you both from your slumber. Neither of you had moved from the position you’d fallen asleep in. You both ignored the first knock, figuring it was one of the boys coming back drunk and wanting to chat. “Go back to sleep, baby.” Sam mumbled, clearly not caring about who was looking for him. You tried to do as he said, but another burst of loud knocking pried your eyes back open.

“Sam, open the fucking door!” You were upright now, immediately recognizing Danny’s voice. Sam groaned, reaching out for his phone.

“It’s 4 in the morning, man, go to bed! We can talk tomorrow!” He shot back.

“I know she’s in there, Sam. I just want to talk to her.” Danny pleaded. You could tell he was plastered. You could hear it in his voice. Your heart was racing, panic encased on your features. Sam gave a look to you as if to say it was okay. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants as you searched wildly for clothes for yourself. You threw on the clothes Sam had given you earlier, crawling back in the bed and hoping that Sam could convince Danny to go back to his room. Sam wanted that, too, hoping you would just talk to him in the morning, when you were both sober and in the right state of mind.

Sam shuffled to the door. You heard him open it a crack before speaking again. “Just go to bed, Danny. You’re hammered.” Sam sighed, trying to reason with him.

“You’ve both been avoiding me for months and lying to my face the whole time. I’m done. I’m sick of waiting for you to decide to tell me the truth.” Danny snapped. Your stomach twisted in a knot, palms breaking out into a sweat. He knew. He’s known all along.

“Hey, stop, man. It’s okay. We can talk in the morning.” Sam muttered, obviously still half asleep. You didn’t understand how he was so calm about the whole thing. Sam made a move to try and shut the door, but Danny pushed it open again, not done with the conversation.

“Just let me talk to her, please.” Danny said again. “I know she’s in there. I saw her car outside.” Danny was pushing back on the door as Sam tried to hold it closed. “You can’t keep my best friend from me.” Something in Sam snapped at his territorial marking, not liking it in the slightest.

“Okay, fine, in the morning!” Sam was losing his patience. “I’m not letting you talk to her while you’re drunk and pissed off.” Sam was being overly protective, not willing to budge from him stance.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Danny argued. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I have to talk to her.” With a final push, Danny got the door open and stepped in the room. Sam sighed, stepping down and out of his way. Danny walked in, his eyes immediately landing on you. He stared for a moment, watching you sitting in Sam’s bed, wearing his clothes, looking scared. He felt a wave of hurt enveloping him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten his answer already. He already knew what he would find, but he was hoping he was wrong.

“Danny,” you started, but he’d already turned to walk back out. Your heart shattered, but you pushed it to the side. You were not the one that should be upset in the situation. You jumped out of the bed, following after him. Just as he was rounding the corner into the hallway, Sam grabbed your wrist to stop you from following. “Let go, Sam.” You warned.

“Y/n, just wait until the morning. We’ve waited this long, we can wait one more day.” He begged.

“That’s the problem! We never should have waited this long to begin with!” You cried, still trying to shake yourself from his grip. “We lied to him. I hurt him. I’m still hurting him!”

“This isn’t a good idea, you’re both upset-“

“We’re going to be upset either way! I need to make it right with him before it’s too late. He’s my whole world, Sam.” You pleaded with him. Sam’s eyes darkened at your statement, once again feeling that pain he’d felt walking into Danny’s apartment the year before.

“What about me, y/n? Am I not part of that world, too?” He said, hurt dripping off of his words.

“What? Of course you are Sam, what do you mean?” You scoffed.

“I mean exactly what I said. This is just like it was in the beginning. No matter how many times we fuck, or how many times you say you love me, he’ll always come first, right?” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but found no words coming out. “That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanna go talk to him? Fine by me.” He dropped your wrist. “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”

“You’re jealous now, of all of the times you could’ve been jealous? We did something to hurt him and you’re pissed off because I want to make it right?”

“No, I’m pissed off because it seems like I was right the whole time. You may not have been fucking him, y/n, but he will always be the most important person to you. He says jump and you’ll do it, no matter how high. No matter who’s begging you not to.”

“Sam you’re being ridiculous.” You scowled, feeling the months of hatred and vicious words coming back.

“It’s four in the morning, y/n. He shows up drunk and wakes us up, barges in here and doesn’t even say a word to you, and you’re chasing after him. Im asking you to stay. I am begging you to at least wait until the morning, when he’s not drunk and you’re in your right mind, but you refuse to see that maybe that’s the most logical thing because like I said a million times before, he comes first, before anyone else. It. Will. Always. Be. Him.” He annunciated his words so harshly that it caused your blood to boil.

You couldn’t believe that after everything you’d told Sam, every memory and sweet word over the last few months, everything that you’d professed to him that night alone, he could throw this out the window so easily. Tears welled in your eyes, begging to be shed. You loved Sam, but he always seemed to be the one to know exactly how to break your heart. You thought that he’d changed, that him being an asshole was just one big misunderstanding, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sam would never change, no matter how much you hoped he would. “I’m not fighting with you over this, Sam. Not again.” You said, completely defeated. “I could go into the next room and spit on him, even kick him in the face and you’d still try and argue that I’m in love with him. You didn’t believe me when I told you the million other times, and you never will. I’m done fighting.” Your voice broke.

“If you leave,” he paused, eyes angry but you could tell it was covering sadness. “If you run out there after him, I’m done, y/n. I can’t always feel like I’m in second place.”

“That’s your problem, Sam. You’re trying to beat him in a race, but you guys aren’t even competing in the same one.” You took a step towards the hallway. “Oh, and if you’re genuinely giving me an ultimatum, whatever this is, ends here. Because if you make me choose, I will never forgive you.” You said, back turned to him now. You couldn’t see it, but a tear fell down his cheek, too. He didn’t answer, just watched you teeter between the hallway and his hotel room, hoping you’d turn back towards him.

“You say that because you know you’d choose him.”

“If you make me stay, we’re done.” You whispered.

“I guess we’re in stalemate, then.” He replied. You closed your eyes, praying he’d say something else, that he would change his mind. Instead, you were met with silence. You looked back at him over your shoulder, wanting to see him one last time before you made up your mind. The sadness in his features implored you to stay, to hold him and tell him you only ever wanted to love him, but the anger towards him that was brewing in your chest was overwhelming. “Please, y/n, come back to bed with me.” He tried one last time. You checked to make sure you’d slipped your phone and your car keys in your pocket when you got up, relieved when you found that you did.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whispered. His eyes glistened with hope, thinking that maybe you were going to stay. As soon as he’d let himself feel it, it was quickly shattered. You had stepped into the hallway and slammed his door shut, not even waiting for him to say it back. He stood, staring at the doorway where you’d been standing just seconds before, not knowing where to go from there.

Don’t worry!! It doesn’t end here, there will be a part three! 🫶🏻

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yojeongin · 1 year

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DON’T BLAME THE LOVECATS — 26: LAST NIGHT I DREAMT THAT SOMEBODY LOVED ME

→neighbor!jaemin x neighbor f!reader

genre: social media au, neighbors au, fluff, angst, enemies to friends to lovers, humor

wanring(s): jealousy, heart break, misunderstanding

wc: 3.2k+

m.list | previous | next

an: if he had listened to karina none of this would’ve happened… the butterfly effect and karma are real guys

White lies are meant to never hurt. They’re meant to avoid said thing and to help out but when it comes to what you and Jaemin have, one always ends up getting hurt. For the most part the affected party ends up being you.

As much as his friends and yours wanted you both to get out of this week-long rut and talk about what had caused Jaemin to act the way he is— neither took into consideration how fragile you had become over his actions.

Jaemin had been the first guy that you’ve ever felt this strongly about. Sure you had your fair share of past partners and loved some of them dearly but none of them made you feel what he’s accomplished in only three months. Now that joy and giddiness was dying over a misunderstanding he refused to talk about and was making things worse.

When Amiliah, Karina, and Mark had planned to have you two talk about what was going on, they expected the both of you to have a heart to heart. With input from Ami, the other two knew you’d need a bit of time to forgive Jaemin but that was about it. None really expected what in a matter of minutes was to come.

Through peer pressure and begging Ami and one of your coworkers had managed to get you out of the tiny restoration lab. All morning you had been stuck there, barely muttering a word to what your peers had found odd. After all, you were always a ball of sunshine at work. In their mind the best solution was treating you to lunch since their best bet was you being sad over your friend leaving in just two days.

Sure you were sad about Sunwoo, that was weighing you down as well but Jaemin pushing you away was only making it worse. If Sunwoo waited this long to tell you it was because he knew you were happy with Jaemin but now he didn’t help the situation either.

Spring was exactly two days away from starting, on the exact date Sunwoo was to leave. With such a reason, the sun shined brighter than before, the grass was greener, and the flowers that sat on top of the table Jaemin waited at illuminated his area.

He had been so concentrated on his website prototype that he ignored the ringing doorbell of the cafe when the group of three entered the shop. Karina welcomed you all in a sweet pitched voice when noticing the two girls she’d been anticipating to arrive.

Mark had taken the opportunity to tag along with his roommate to make sure the two of you talked. Right now he had been sitting on a stool beside Karina chatting her ear off in wait for your arrival. So like his young friend, his face lit up seeing you two and company, hopeful that this silent era will finally finish.

He really wondered what happened for his friend to become so cold towards him and you all of the sudden. While he couldn’t ignore Mark like he did you since they lived together, he did try his best to avoid him thus staying in Frou Cafe night and day in his free time.

The cafe was slightly packed, everyone in the area was on their lunch break and needed the quickest fuel they could find. While Amilah and your coworker talked about what to get, you remained silent looking around the cafe for an area to sit once you’ve all got your meals.

But in the moment you had done so, that familiar mint green hoodie caught your eye. The spring color complimenting the white tables and most of all the bright red roses that sat besides him.

As much as you tried fighting off that smile that formed on your face when looking at his frustrated one — the images for the prototype had been insanely low quality — you couldn’t help it. An intense frown always presented itself when he was frustrated with work, an inner tantrum going on inside of him.

You always found it cute how he acted in stressful situations. He never got mad if anything they bothered him and made him act childish.

Regardless, the universe had other plans for you and slowly your smile faded when a nice looking raven haired woman walked inside the cafe, annoyance on her face but fading when she saw Jaemin.

A smile had plastered replacing the annoyance, apologizing for taking too long with the call and properly greeting him with a hug. What caught you off guard is that he chuckled with a smile of his own, handing her a cup of coffee that by now might be cold.

Now it was you who ported a frown, a frown the two friends of his didn’t miss. Their enthusiasm had fallen when your smile did and now they were filled with panic.

“What are you getting?” Your coworker interrupted your train of thought. Your head was pounding and your chest felt heavy. Eating is the last thing you want to do. All you wanted now was to get out of there away from them all.

“I’m good, thank you.” You clear your throat, your voice meek and delicate. She smiled, shaking her head insisting but you didn’t want anything. If you felt like you’re going to expel bile right now, adding more into your stomach would make it worse.

By this time all three of you had reached the register with Karina and Mark looking at you with pity. Poor Ami had been clueless due to her gossiping but she could tell that something was wrong.

Turning to the two in front, Mark had signaled with his eyes to the scene that had broken your heart.

How clueless can Jaemin be to not even notice the two of you being there by now? He surely takes his job seriously. It’s worse that he’s conversing with laughter and hearing his pretty sounds make your chest ache more.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.” The third of the bunch pushes, smiling kindly to which you have to bite your tongue to avoid telling her to stop. But you manage to press your lips tightly and smile as kindly as you can, muttering that an americano is fine enough.

“I forgot to turn in a report to the manager, do you mind if I leave? He needed it before lunch, he’s going to kill me now. I’ll catch you at work, okay?” You tried to say in the most cheery voice you could but your voice was betraying you and with every syllable it kept breaking.

Your coworker knew the man was scary so she confused your weepy voice for fright and not for heartache. She simply nodded looking at you with pity, only different from the one from the other three.

She couldn’t even respond with words when you had bolted out of the shop, clutching tightly onto your sleeves to avoid letting it all out in front of everyone.

“Oh forgot to ask her if she wanted it sweet! Do you mind as—“ “On it!”

Amilah wasn’t going to let you leave on your own. She knew you better than anyone and though you didn’t want sympathy or comfort from anyone, she just wanted to make sure you’d be okay.

Glad enough that there was a park not too far from work and the cafe, Amilah found you sitting on a bench facing away from the street. Shooting a quick message to your mutual coworker to get her off both your backs; she sat besides you as silently as she could but you knew it was her. The strong smell of roses and amber giving her away.

Roses. Like the bouquet Jaemin had for someone else and not you.

A soft bitter giggle left your lips when remembering the image of the two greeting each other. How cruel can love be?

“How are you handling, honey?” She tries breaking in, scooting closer to give you more warmth. “Like a fool, Ami… You should’ve seen the way his face lit up when she came in.”

Your face scrunched up at the memory, your hands reaching for your mouth when the first sob came out, and your eyes began to prickle in pain from the hot threatening tears.

“Oh, sweetie.” She calls out, pulling you into an embrace caressing your hair the more your tears kept falling. “I don’t know why I thought he’d be different. He’s been such an asshole all these years. I feel like such an idiot thinking he was actually nice.”

The pain of your voice made her own heart ache. If she had never listened to Mark and Karina this would’ve never happened. Sure you’d still be sad over Jaemin but at least you wouldn’t be aching how you are now.

Your heart was swollen but not from happiness. It ached like never before and your entire body felt numb. What did you expect from someone that has treated you like garbage since meeting? From a guy who spent two years hating you over some petty argument and barely treated you like a human being until recently.

You should’ve never trusted Na Jaemin. Things were better when you two hated each other and never talked. With one conversation he had trapped your heart and now he was taking advantage of how delicate it was. Maybe your friends were right in thinking you were fragile, that is the only reason Sunwoo avoided telling you he was leaving after all.

With only two days for Spring to come and for his parting, Sunwoo found himself downtown leaving some transfer papers at his current club. Given it was near your job, he was going to take the shortcut through the park and surprise both you and Ami with lunch although the one ending up being surprised was him the second he reached the other side and saw his two friends despondent on a bench.

Panic bells rang in his head, rushing him to where you two were and crouching in front of you both. While you couldn’t even bear to look at him through angry tears in your eyes, Ami shot him a sad apologetic frown, continuing to caress your hair.

“What happened?” He questions, taking one of your hands and squeezing it softly for comfort. “Um…” Ami tries speaking but your sobs get louder at the idea of hearing it all again.

Sighing to herself, Ami cocks her head signaling him to stand beside her so she can whisper in his ear what went on. Through the back pain of leaning over to a short level, he ignored it if it’d help you.

“We saw Jaemin with another girl at a cafe and she’s completely distraught over it…” In a mixture of guilt and pain, Ami whispered. Not only is she going to comfort you over your broken heart but now she’s going to deal with Sunwoo’s rage.

Standing up straight with fire in his eyes, Sunwoo grunts with deep rooted anger within him. Walking around, the football player let out silent curses and plans on how he’d destroy your neighbor.

“That fucking asshole! Where is he now?! I’m going down there and I’ll bea—“ “NO!”

Through pained cries you interrupted your friend. The two of them looked at you confused as if this was someone else’s problem, you'd be the first one to encourage this behavior. But all you wanted to do now was get Jaemin out of your system.

“Please don’t… Let’s just— Don't do anything to him.” You sniffle looking up at Sunwoo. As angry as he is, he succumbs to your swollen eyes, frowning at what the man you’re protecting has caused.

“Let me cry it out right now and we all can ignore anything that has happened in the past months. Don’t tell the rest either, Jeno and Winter will most likely kill him if they find out. I don’t want to see him after this anyways.” You try laughing it off but sobs continue to fall. As much as you’re trying to act like it’s all fine, it wasn’t.

Na Jaemin has broken your heart once and for all.

The two reluctantly agree, both hugging you for comfort. “I’ll go check if Mido is still at the cafe, okay?” Amilah speaks, receiving a nod from you. Standing from her spot and walking behind the bench on her way back, Sunwoo turns to bid her goodbye.

In the instance he does, Ami stops, pointing at herself and behind her — to symbolize as Jaemin — pretending to punch the air letting him know that she’s going to take matters into her own hands.

The contortions her face made caused him to stifle a laugh, nodding in agreement with a smile on her face.

Now it was just you two alone.

Amilah had ran back to the cafe, panting when she crossed the threshold and finally catching the attention of the man who earlier didn’t notice you two before.

While Jaemin interpreted Amilah approaching him as a polite gesture to greet him, he smiled at her standing to greet her as well but he was soon caught off guard when she opened her mouth.

“You little shit, I told you if you did anything I’d beat your a—“

His face had filled with horror and now stood behind his chair seeking protection. If it wasn’t for Karina that had rushed to cover her mouth and Mark who held her back, she probably would’ve cursed him until his next life.

Karina laughed nervously telling the guests to ignore anything that happened while Amilah’s muffled words kept being blocked by her palm. “Let’s go to the conference room — Ow! Don’t bite me!— NOW.” She spoke menacingly, pulling Amilah along her while rubbing her hand against her apron hoping it’d sooth the pain away.

Jaemin didn’t get time to excuse himself from his client, ashamed of what was going on but regardless he trudged behind his friends and neighbor.

After unlocking the conference room and having everyone involved inside, Karina pulled down the blinds so customers won’t continue to meddle in their business. Glad that it was sound proof in case of any more screaming.

“I told you if you hurt her I’d beat your ass!” Amilah continued what she had been cut off from earlier, attempting to launch at Jaemin but once again was stopped when both Mark and Karina took a hold of her.

“Let me go! I’ll do it! I don’t care if I’m short!” She struggled in their grasp. “What are you talking about?” Jaemin finally speaks, confusion branded onto his face.

“Are you stupid or do you just like acting?” Ami spits out, finally freeing herself from their grasp after promising she wouldn’t claw his face off like she intended. “You’re here with another girl, have flowers for her, and don’t even notice that yn saw everything? Even, you kekeing like it’s all fine. You’re such a dick!”

Jaemin was aware of how the situation looked like now. If he was in your shoes he’d be as sad. “She’s just my client… Did you two know yn came?” Panic rose in his voice, looking between Karina and Mark exasperatedly.

Reluctantly the two nodded, ashamed looks on their faces. “You two know she’s my client, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“She ran out so quickly, what did you want us to do?” Mark answered, feeling anxious from the way things were going. “I told you if you had talked it out with her, things wouldn’t have come this far.” Karina lectured, disappointment decorating her face.

Amilah now stood a bit confused. Karina knew something and she needed to know now. Turning to the taller woman, Amilah squinted her eyes in distrust in all of them now.

“Spill.” She crosses her arms, causing the fear to shift towards Karina.

“Well… um—“ “I will make sure you never get to savor her flan ever again if you don’t speak.”

Now that was a way to torture someone.

“Jaemin heard yn practice how she’s going to reject him so he’s been avoiding her to not get attached and get his heart broken. I told him to talk it out since there’s no way she’d reject him, everyone knows she’s in love with him just like he’s in love with her!” Karina confesses in one breath, inhaling and exhaling sharply when her voice gives out.

With the way Amilah turned on her heel, the three could’ve sworn she was one of those haunted dolls in horror movies. There was a nefarious amount of anger in her eyes that they feared they would die in seven days after this talk.

While she contemplated what to scream at him now, Mark’s eyebrows furrowed thinking about what Karina had just said. He out of everyone knew you’d never reject Jaemin. So why would he think that?

Unless… Unless he had overheard you two talk the day before he started acting weird. Oh no… Jaemin had heard you practice with Mark on how to reject Sunwoo and now things had been ruined. It made it worse that he had encouraged Jaemin to confess to you not long before that conversation so of course he thought it was about him.

Now that explains why he was so cold towards him too. Jaemin thought he was being betrayed…

“Did you ever think about asking her?! Now things are worse because you don’t know how to deal with your insecurities, Jesus fucking Christ!”

“I-I…”

Jaemin couldn’t speak, the cats had eaten his tongue. Amilah had always been the sweetest person but now she’s showing to be very intimidating.

“Jaemin… she wasn’t practicing to reject you. I— Okay, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone but she thought someone else was going to confess and she was scared about it so we practiced for it but it was never you. She really does like you— a shit ton.”

Mark tried to not show how hurt he was over Jaemin thinking he’d ever betray him but his entire body was a traitor (like Jaemin thought he was). Now it wasn’t just one person he had hurt but two he held dearly.

Taking a seat in complete shock, Jaemin props his elbows on the table, fingers raking through his hair in horror of what his insecurities have done.

“I need to see her.” He whispers, looking up at Amilah who by now found herself at the door of the conference room, having enough of what had happened.

She scoffs, shaking her head, “She doesn’t want to see you ever again so good luck.” With that, Amilah slammed the door behind her. She knew the other two tried helping both you and Jaemin but things had gone downhill and only a miracle would help this be fixed. That or your love for him.

She also wanted to avoid the gloominess of that room. With Karina’s guilt, Mark’s too along his hurt feelings, and not to mention Jaemin’s overall destruction— it was best to avoid anyone involved with him.

They all just hoped things could be mended with you but who knows. You’re losing a friend in less than two days and now you’ve lost the love of your life.

taglist: @bbymatz @dandelionxgal @w3bqrl @liljeongseong @n0hyuck @minjiville @xxxx-23nct @liliansun @ihrtnyu @kpopwh0r3 @buubbbbly @luvenshiti @igotkpoops @xuimhao

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buckysimp101 · 2 years

Text

Love at First Grade (18+) - 1

Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader

chapter warnings: none

a/n: I am so excited to work on this fic. I am a sucker for a good singledad!Bucky fic and to add the teacher!Bucky to it as well? A dream! let me know what you think of this first chapter in the comments! I hope y'all enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Becca, come on you have to get up,” Bucky whispered as he lightly shook his sleeping, six year old daughter. Becca’s face twisted up in discontent as she attempted to pull her blanket up to prevent having to go to school.

“Sweetheart, don’t make me turn on the lights,” Bucky threatened lightly, not wanting to turn on the lights himself but he needed her to get up. They had to be leaving for school in thirty minutes, he’d already been up for an hour and a half preparing for the day.

Becca groaned at that threat, knowing he’d do just that if it meant she’d finally wake up. She threw her hands over her face and peaked through them, her blue eyes catching his.

Becca was Bucky’s twin with her brown hair and blue eyes, she got way more of his genes that she did her mother’s. A fact that made Dot angry every time any of Bucky’s family brought it up. When Dot walked out on them Becca was two. She hadn’t known her mother long enough to miss her, but Bucky knew that there was a mom shaped hole that he would never be able to fill completely, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“But daddy I don’t wanna go to school,” Becca whispered from behind the safety of her hands, trying not to make eye contact with her dad.

“Why not, Bex? You were all excited about going to first grade last week, what changed your mind?” Bucky asked quietly, trying to find out where his daughters sudden fear of the first grade had come from.

“Because you’re not my teacher,” she whispered, looking down at her hands and avoiding Bucky’s face. His heart dropped. He knew that Becca had been hoping he would be her teacher, but since he was her father that wasn’t going to happen. Their school liked to avoid the “my parent is my teacher” stereotype and placed the kids with other teachers instead.

“I know, sweetheart. But you know who is your teacher?” He responded, smoothing her brown curls as she looked at him with those big blue eyes, shaking her head no. So Bucky whispered, “Uncle Stevie.”

Becca’s eyes grew three sizes and next thing Bucky knew she was throwing off her blanket and running to the closet, “UNCLE STEVIE IS MY TEACHER!?”

Bucky chuckled as he watched Becca’s curls fly around her head wildly as she tried to find “the best outfit for the best teacher EVER!”, though that last statement hurt Bucky just a little bit.

“Alright Bex, calm down. Now. Let me see what you plan on wearing,” he said, his hands on his hips. He didn’t care what Becca wore to school but sometimes she liked to play dress up just a little too much. Becca showed him her outfit and he nodded his head in approval.

“Alright kiddo, I’ve got breakfast ready. Let's go eat real fast then you can get changed, brush your teeth and we’ll be off to see Mr. Rogers.” At that, Becca zoomed past Bucky to the kitchen and he swore he’d never seen a kid eat faster, and he’d had plenty of lunch duties in his day.

As Bucky finished packing their lunches and fixing his togo coffee, he listened to Becca chatter on about how excited she was to be in Uncle Steve's class and how she was scared that she'd forget to call him Mr. Rogers and how many friends she was going to make, the last statement making Bucky chuckle as he shook his head. Becca didn't know a stranger. She made friends everywhere she went. Suffice to say, she got that skill from her mother. The difference? Dot made friends at the drop of a hat, but she was terrible at maintaining those friendships. Bucky was physically pulled out of his thoughts by his six year old tugging at his slacks, "okay daddy! I'm all ready!"

Focusing on Becca, Bucky had to hold back a laugh. While his daughter had managed to put on her clothes correctly, right side out and everything, her hair was a different story. The chestnut curls looked like they hadn't seen a brush in days, and knowing how busy he'd been setting up his classroom and getting ready for the school year, it probably had been that long. "Okay, Becca Bug. We need to fix this hair, now run and grab your brush so we can head out. Daddy can't be late for the first day of school," he said with his hands on his hips trying to put on as serious a face as possible, the action nearly impossible with a giggling six year old running from him. He couldn't help but think, "this is gonna be a long year."

By the time the pair made their way to the school Becca was practically buzzing with excitement. Gone was the shy and somewhat scared six year old he found laying in her bed this morning, Rebecca Dolores Barnes "but you can call me Becca please" had taken her place. The pair didn't make it as early as they normally would today but Bucky had the opportunity to walk Becca to her classroom before returning to his own to greet his students.

Steve Rogers opened his classroom door as he heard the excited tone of Rebecca Barnes approaching. "UNCLE STEVE!! I'm in your class this year!" Becca shouted, practically flinging herself into his arms making Steve and Bucky laugh at her enthusiasm. The two offering a one-armed hug around Becca's small body.

"Remember what I said this morning, Becca- bug," Bucky said somewhat sternly, making sure to look her in the eye. Where her sudden sass came from, Bucky had no clue, because next thing he knew his daughter was rolling her eyes and sighing, "I know daddy, he's Mr. Rogers when I'm in his class and at school."

Steve tried his best to suppress his laugh with a cough. Steve knew where she got her attitude from. It was a perfect (read: deadly) combination of Bucky, Dot and Becca's namesake her Auntie Bex, Bucky's sister. Not him though....she definitely wasn't influenced by her Uncle Steve...not one bit.

Bucky cut his eyes at Steve, trying to get him to realize that he was serious about teaching Becca what she needed to know at school, when he recognized the slow flow of students entering the halls. The first day of first grade had started. Bucky turned to Becca and wrapped his daughter in a hug, "Alright, Becca. Be on your best behavior for Mr. Rogers, learn lots of things, make new friends, I'll see you at lunch. I love you to infinity and beyond, Becca-Bug."

"I love you to the moon and back a kajillion times, daddy!" Becca responded, squeezing her dad tight before kicking her feet to try and get down and enter her classroom. That was Bucky's cue. He gave Steve a final hug before heading to his classroom. As the kids approached, Bucky greeted them and the people dropping them off. Most of the kids were excited to see some of their friends from Kindergarten again, others were already in the process of making new friends. Bucky continued through the line of students and guardians, avoiding the occasional flirting by some of the moms thrown his way, when he reached the final student in line.

She was looking at her feet, suddenly preoccupied by the pink converse on her feet and trying to avoid his eye, her fingers finding interest in picking at the sequins on her pink unicorn shirt. A throat cleared from behind the young girl. Bucky saw black heels first, followed by a black pantsuit, a white blouse and finally a slightly concerned face looking down at the young girl. You bent down to get to her level and whispered something in her ear, the girl looking up at Bucky quickly but promptly turning her face into your shirt. You looked up at him with an apologetic look on your face. Luckily, Bucky knew what to do.

He bent down slowly, and stretched out his hand, "Hi, I'm Mr. Barnes and welcome to the first grade. We've got a lot of fun things we're going to do this year." The little girl poked her head out under your arm, looking at Bucky's outstretched hand as if it might attack her any second. You took that moment to nudge her, nodding your head when she looked at you like she wanted to say something.

The little girl took a deep breath, poking her chest out and thrusting her palm out to meet Bucky's, "My name is Avery Claire L/N, and I am six years old. It is very nice to meet you, thank you," she stated, stumbling over her words a little but when she was done she looked at you, almost for approval. You shook your head at your daughter's silliness. What Bucky didn't know is that Avery had been practicing for days how she wanted to introduce herself, she'd seen her mother do it a million times and she wanted to get it just right.

"Well, Avery, it is very nice to meet you, are you ready to go make some new friends and have a great year," Bucky asked, gesturing to the classroom door behind him where the other students were already talking and playing with each other. Avery poked her head around his legs to get a better look, obviously something sparked her interest cause the next thing you knew she was giving your legs a squeeze and yelling, "bye mommy! Love you!" as she ran into Bucky's classroom.

Bucky laughed at her enthusiasm, she reminded him of Becca. He turned to face you, extended his hand and said, "I look forward to teaching Avery this year, as I said I'm Mr. Barnes. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N."

The corner of your lip twitched upwards, almost like you wanted to smirk at his assumption that you were married, and you reached your hand out to give his a firm shake before stating, "It's Ms. L/N. Y/N L/N. And I look forward to hearing all about the joys of first grade, Mr. Barnes."Bucky swore his face lost all color. The blood drained out of his face so fast the second he heard her full name. He'd heard of Y/N L/N. Who the hell hadn't. She ran L/N Enterprises and was known as one of the most ruthless executives in New York. Your smirk turned into a smile full of teeth, a smile Bucky was sure you'd perfected in all sorts of business deals and meetings over the years.

Or maybe it was one you reserved just for people when they found out who you were, your reputation obviously preceding you, Bucky couldn't help but think to himself. He opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off as your phone started to ring, "thank you for the introduction, Mr. Barnes. And thank you for your work this morning with Avery, she's a little shy and I'm not entirely certain where she got that from. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." You turned down the hall, heels tapping the linoleum flooring as you answered the phone with a harsh, "What?"

As Bucky watched you walk away he let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in since you introduced yourself. "This really is gonna be a long year."

~~~~~~~

I don’t have a taglist for this fic yet, but if you’d like to be added just let me know!

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #single dad bucky x single mom reader #bucky barnes x yn #teacher bucky barnes #bucky as a teacher and a single dad? all i ever wanted #original characters #rebecca barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #BuckySimp101

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clumsiestgiantess · 9 months

Text

Chapter twelve of the Other-world Universe; Alexis returns after four years of time away. How much has changed? (tw various hints of abuse)(disaster is afoot)

[Who all this was for]

For the rest of the summer, I focused my attention on other important things, mainly getting into college. Next school year would be my senior year, and I’d already narrowed down my top picks. The summer dragged on, but I was more determined than ever to avoid the other-world. For once, I did not give in to temptation and visit it for anything. I kept myself busy with various small summer projects instead.

Of these, my favorite was a silly little shark plushie I tried to make myself. Its proportions were very squished and it bulged a bit at the front, but I thought it looked awfully cute. However, I began to lose interest even in the little projects. I was almost relieved when school started up again. High school easily distracted me more than any of my summer plans had. Though every once and a while I would catch myself wondering about the other-world — whether Erica was doing alright. I’d always disregard those thoughts once I began longing to return. They often disappeared as quickly as they emerged. Once I remembered how I’d left, there really was no reason to go back. Erica was probably fine. She finally had a life completely separate from me, and any harm I might cause.

School was.. well, school. Tough, but nothing I couldn’t do with enough practice. Before I knew it, volleyball season had returned and things started looking up. I actually enjoyed my new routine. It was certainly a lot less stressful dealing with only one world instead of two. By the end of the year I’d been accepted into one of the colleges I had looked at over summer break. Time flew after that. A bucket list formed of things I wanted to do before I left home, and I constantly strived to complete everything on it. I was anxious but content, and dare I say happy. Before I knew it, graduation day had arrived. Suddenly, I could barely recall the other-world anymore. After a large graduation party, and weeks of preparing and packing, I officially left home. Adult life was more difficult than it was made out to be, but I managed. I mean, technically I was still in school.

I tried to even out the stress of assignments and due dates with a steady relationship. There was this nagging ache I'd feel from time to time whenever I got bored or lonely that needed to be filled. However, none of the guys I'd ever dated felt quite right. Something was missing. I had no clue what it could be. Some of the relationships I’d been in had come pretty close to perfect, yet that small ache was never quite satisfied. So in the end, I never stuck around.

It was the week before Thanksgiving, three years after my high school graduation, when I got an unexpected call from my dad. He and Liam were cleaning out the house and trashing a bunch of unnecessary things. They’d even rented a dumpster and everything. Dad asked me if I could come over during my break and help them move the heavier things out. Of course, I agreed. I was happy to go back home, I had lots of good memories there, and thanks to the holiday, my grandparents were there too — the whole family.

Everyone celebrated the small family reunion upon my return. My first day home, I stayed up late talking with my brother and reminiscing. The next day, after sleeping in late for the first time that month, I got to work. All morning I was preoccupied with moving an old sitting room setup. The furniture was heavier than it looked. I was barely able to drag everything into the dumpster in the driveway before throwing in the towel and stopping for lunch.

My next task was removing a flimsy ping pong table from the storage room in the basement. As tired as I was, the ping pong table was made of old plastic, so it wouldn’t be very hard for me to lift. While I walked downstairs with my father, he gestured vaguely to the main room of the basement. “We’ll probably be dumping the playtable too. I got Liam to clean all the crap off of it so we can trash it.” He shook his head, “I don’t think that thing’s been touched in years.” Just then, my grandmother yelled down to Dad. She was having trouble with the automatic coffee machine, trying to figure out how to make tea with it. “I’ll be back when I can,” he sighed, “This might be a while.” He disappeared upstairs, leaving me in the basement alone.

The table, having been mentioned, suddenly appeared in the forefront of my mind. It was like visiting old ruins, forgotten by the world — a piece of my childhood I’d forced out of my mind, back from the dead. As if in a trance, I walked slowly over to its edge. It was completely empty. The city and everything else I remembered was gone. Of course it’s all missing; I’ve been away for years. Still, its blank surface was unnerving to me. It didn’t help that I could still feel the strange static sensation that had first drawn me to it. That feels like a lifetime ago.

I glanced at the stairs, then back to the table uncertainly. The age-old question returned from the depths of my mind. Should I go back? It’s been so long, but I probably shouldn’t risk it, right? I hesitated for only a moment. A strangely familiar feeling overcame me, and I was in the other-world again. It was uncanny how little things had changed there. The valley I always appeared in still seemed completely untouched. Well, it’s only been four years. What did I expect? Honestly, I expected it not to work. I had doubts that I’d actually been to this place, but this world is very clearly still here, as real as it ever was.

My nostalgia trip which started at home continued into the other-world. I meandered through the old mountain range and followed its edge down to the subdivisions and the city. So much had happened since I was last there. I was only eighteen when I left. I'm twenty-two now, closer to twenty-three. Yet, the familiarity of the other-world brought me right back to older days. Memories I'd long since suppressed came back to me in a sudden rush.

Purposefully, I’d tried my hardest to forget what happened on my last day, but once I passed by the hidden lake, the weight of what I'd recognized was too much for me to dismiss. I hurt so many people here. Why do I want to come back again? Now I remembered why I left. I'm too dangerous for this world; I don't belong here. I'll just check to see if the city still looks like how I remember it, then I'll leave. I'll ask Dad to throw away the table today so this world can't tempt me anymore.

Sure of my decision, I walked on without a single glance back. However, when I neared the beginning of civilization, I stopped dead in my tracks. I gagged on the heavy scent of gasoline in the air as I gazed out over the little houses. The whole neighborhood was shredded, like the aftermath of a tornado or hurricane. Many of the houses were completely destroyed, and upon closer observation, even the ones left completely unscathed had long been abandoned. Many of the peoples’ possessions were still left in their houses. They hadn’t even had time to bring everything with them.

Looking out at the horizon, I saw even from a distance that a similar devastation had taken place in the city too. One of the signature pronged buildings had collapsed, damaging the skyline. What happened here!? “Oh no,” I gasped aloud, “Did this happen because the table was cleaned off?” It can’t be, I realized, or everything would be completely gone. The table and this world are not the same. Some of these houses aren’t even damaged; that isn’t the reason. I was utterly baffled. The amount of mass destruction was terrifying to see.

So if this wreckage wasn’t caused by the table, then what happened? I looked around, distraught. “Hello?” I called, “ Is anyone here?” I had turned back from invisibility; there was really no need for secrecy anymore. In all honesty, I would rather catch someone shrieking in fear of me than finding no one at all. “Hello?” I called again. Still there was no response. Stepping through the wreckage, I slowly made it to the city, stopping every few feet to call out again. Each time I was met with silence. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t a single person left. A single living person, that is. An unnerving amount of damaged and shredded corpses were scattered about the ground almost everywhere, sending chills down my arms.

The silent tension grew as I walked the abandoned streets. I used to have to be intangible just to be nearby. Now I can walk right through. I meandered up and down rows of empty buildings and roads, an unnerving static humm in the air. There wasn't a single soul in sight. Where did everyone go? I don't understand, how could everyone just disappear? There has to be someone left! In my rapidly upsetting state, I returned to invisibility. I wasn’t quite sure why, other than some vague gut feeling.

After walking through the abandoned city streets for some time, I began to feel a strange connection. As if I subconsciously knew I needed to be there somewhere. I invisibly stalked the ruined streets until I came to the place I was drawn to. I'd never been in that part of the city before. It was always too crowded for me to ever get close, but with everyone gone it became an eerie and desolate wasteland.

Shouts echoed through empty halls and a door suddenly swung open behind me. People! I turned in excitement. A rough looking gang burst through the open doorway, and I was instantly disappointed. There were about five or six men filing roughly down the stairs; each one carrying an impressive array of weapons with them. They had everything from simple crowbars and home-made weapons to rifles and pistols. One even hauled a machine gun on his back. Why was I taken here? Who are these people? Where's everyone else?

One final man marched out of the building. I recognized him instantly. John, Erica's awful ex-lover whom I'd thankfully never officially met. He was holding some kind of metal dog chain, the other end of which was still inside the building. I was instantly repelled by the sight of him. I hate this man. Out of all the people I could have found, why him? Why did HE survive whatever apocalypse happened while I was gone?

I watched him saunter down the stairs, and as the men flanked him on either side, I realized he was the leader of this post-apocalyptic gang. John yanked on the chain he'd been dragging, and I readily expected some scary breed of dog to come rushing out. However, that was not the case. I watched in sheer horror as an even more familiar face was yanked into the open, gagged and bound.

Erica was practically thrown down the stairway outside, landing in a heap in front of the other gang members, all of whom began to laugh cruelly. What in the actual fucking hell!? Every so often I would get nightmares of Erica or the destruction I’d caused. She would always be yelling at me, my own size, hunting me down to hurt me for what I’d done to her — face blurry with the years of forgetting. Sometimes I would be trapped in a dark room, other times I’d be running through the forest by the lake. If I hadn’t woken in fright by then, I would eventually come across the crushed corpses, and then I’d wake up. It was so horribly surreal to find her in such an awful situation when she’d been my tormentor for so long.

The chain and Erica were roughly tied to a streetlamp just outside the door. That pole in particular was caked in dried blood. "So much for your escape plans, little girl," John remarked coldly, prompting more laughter from the other men. "Did you really think you could get away from me that easily?" He was leaning in close to Erica's face, forcing her to look at him with an iron grip on her throat. Suddenly, she lashed out and kicked him square in the groin. John fell backwards in pain and called out to the others. "Fuck! Give her hell!" Every man raised their weapon. Those who had short range weapons surrounded her, and those with guns took aim.

"NO!" In a split second, I leapt forward, reaching out in front of Erica to defend her. Though she’d been torturing me in dreams for years, I knew that it was only in my head. I couldn’t stand by and watch her get hurt. I rushed blindly into the side of the building, sending everything crashing down around me. Thankfully, Erica was spared the brute of the avalanche I'd created, having been shielded from its force by my hands. Some of the men were not as lucky. A good half of them had been buried under the rubble, including John. From the corner of my eye I watched his shocked expression as clouds of dust billowed around him. The last I’d seen of him was that very face being torn apart by debris before a wall of cinder brick collapsed on top of him.

To the remaining men, I appeared as if from the air — a towering shadow of an angry behemoth, obscured by the cloud of rising dust off the crushed rubble. They all looked up at me in fear, and for once I was delighted by it. "YOU'RE ALL DEAD!" I screamed, reaching for them. A few tried to fight back, but most of them just ran. Someone even shot at me, but the bullets barely stung more than a bug bite would.

I killed them all easily. Too easily. Each thug was crushed unrecognizably between muscle and rubble. In sheer anger, I picked up a couple men and hurled them at the side of a building. Another, the final escapee, I tore apart in fury; like you would tear apart a bad drawing or unwelcome notice.

After the last man had been finished off, I screamed aggressively out into the barren streets. The thugs' punishment had been too quick, I had nothing left to inflict my wrath upon now besides warped corpses. All my anger over Erica’s captors, as well as my actions in this world and their awful consequences, spilled out into a blind rage.

Instead of searching for more bodies, I took out my anger on another building. It toppled to the ground in a groaning broken sound that only further fueled my wild adrenaline-filled rampage. I kicked and clawed, beating it down mercilessly until I was bloody and bruised. My chest heaved with heavy breaths as I finally began to feel the pain lashing out. Legs going numb, I fell to my knees in the center of the destruction. My anger subsided just as quickly as it emerged.

Easing out of my fog, I remembered who it was for. I turned, unsure. Erica was still chained to the streetlamp, fighting desperately against her bindings. I rushed to her side and she went completely still, eyes going wide. Reaching out, I carefully took the chains between my thumb and index finger, crushing them until they snapped. The metal fell onto the concrete with a dull thud. Instantly, Erica struggled to undo the rest of her bindings. As she freed herself, I surveyed the damage I'd done, recognizing that I'd proven yet again how destructive and horrible I could be.

I heard more chains fall to the ground, and I carefully lay myself down to look Erica in the eyes. It had been so long, and she looked awful. Bloody, bruised; as messed up as I was, she looked inherently worse. The moment she was free, I began an apology. This was by far my worst episode yet. At least the other times I’d hurt people I'd done so by accident. Not that it mattered to her.

"I'm so sorry, I-'' she didn't let me finish. Erica raced forward and grasped my open hand, desperately sobbing into it. I realized shortly afterwards that this was her attempt at a hug. My massive size made things a bit more complicated, but I delicately scooped her up and held her to my chest. Erica continued to cry; I could feel her clinging tightly to me. An angry burning feeling rose in my throat, and I pressed my eyes shut to keep tears from seeping out. For what seemed like an eternity, we sat together. Both of us were locked in an embrace that neither of us wanted to let go of.

Eventually I could feel Erica's grip loosening, and I carefully placed her back on solid ground, giving her a moment to gain her balance and stand. "I missed you so much," Erica whispered hoarsely. "I didn't think you were coming back." She'd missed me? She wanted me back? Of course, I realized, my slight torture of controlling minds to make her life better was likely a paradise compared to whatever hell she's gone through without me.

"You're ok," I told her softly, "You're alright. They can't hurt you now." I whispered sweet nothings to her as she crawled back into my outstretched palm, just like the day I'd left her. I stood ever so slowly, cupping her close. "Don't leave," Erica begged quietly, half asleep. Her drowsiness worried me; it was very unnatural, likely brought about by drugs or whatnot, but she needed the rest either way. "I won't leave you," I assured her. Erica nodded drowsily, then passed out, her body falling limply across my palm.

The sight of Erica's forlorn form laying in my hand forced forwards the tears I'd been trying to hold back. My eyes began to water, and tears slid silently down my cheeks, but I managed to cast them away with a swipe of my free hand. How did this happen? What's going on!? The city is destroyed, abandoned, and overrun. Where is everyone else? Is this really all that’s left? It can’t be.

I was sure Erica would answer my questions eventually, so I headed to the cliffside where the mansion once stood. Erica's house had been completely demolished in whatever event had taken the rest of the houses there. Despite my being gone for years, the now barren mountainside still felt like home. I watched my step where I walked; it was a force of habit, though many of the buildings around me had long been torn apart.

When I reached the cliffside, I carefully placed Erica down on a rubble-free part of the lawn. I dug through the remains of her old house and found a blanket that was only a little worse for wear. I shook it out and draped it over her sleeping form. An echo of a memory flashed before my eyes like deja-vu.

My heartstrings were pulled taunt as I watched Erica laying on the cliffside where her house, that I'd bought her, lay in ruins. She looked different now. Older, for sure, and her hair had grown out from her favorite neck-short cut, but she also looked a lot more worn down. It was fairly obvious why, but at the same time, it made no sense. Why would she go back to seeing John? How could he get away with doing something like this? However, judging by the ruined state of the landscape around me, I assumed that laws were likely a lot more lenient in the apocalyptic aftermath of whatever disaster had struck the other-world. I badly wanted Erica to wake up and talk to me, so she could help me understand what had happened.

Solemnly, I stood at the cliff's edge, watching valiantly over Erica’s sleeping form. Was she always this small? My hand hovered briefly over her for a moment before she shifted in her sleep and I quickly backed off. I remembered the people of the other-world were little, but she was only a bit taller than my pinky finger.

Not knowing when exactly Erica would wake up, I took the chance I had to rush into my world and grab some food. I haphazardly threw together a quick sandwich and grabbed a few things for the road. Both my father and grandmother were in the kitchen at the time, confused at my rushed gathering of supplies, but I was in too much of a hurry to come up with a decent excuse. I only worked faster to avoid any more attention and returned to the basement. I had no idea when I would be back, so I left dealing with my family for later.

Gathered items and shrinking box in hand, I quickly returned to the other-world, only to find myself right in front of Erica's mansion. I almost walked right into the rock face. Oh shit, I can go to more places than the field? I guess I’ve never tried. That would’ve been useful to know before I left.

Thankfully, Erica hadn't moved since my pit stop, so I settled into a more reasonable pace and shrank a few items for her to have whenever she woke up. Her unnatural drowsiness kept bugging me, though. For the next few hours I spent waiting for Erica to wake, I frequently checked her pulse and breathing, just in case. What I would've done if either had stopped I don't know, but thankfully it never came to that. With nothing else to do, I addressed my own wounds. Most of which I'd given myself in anger. The bullet holes were actually quite painful. I knew I should get the metal out of my skin, and I had preemptively grabbed a first-aid kit from the basement. I removed the tweezers from the small box and set to work.

It was hard going; the metal pieces were miniscule, and I could barely latch onto them with the tweezers. Once the bullets were all finally removed, I was left with raw gaping holes in my skin where they'd hit. I sucked in a pained breath of air and began to bandage them up. Taking a tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kit, I stepped away from the cliffside to pour it over my cuts before I finished wrapping them. While I was at it, I poured some water over my hands to wash off the blood and grime from the city.

When I returned, I saw Erica’s little form sitting up on the cliffside and I ran over in an instant. I was starting to get worried she might not wake up. She stood shocked at my sudden appearance. "Alexis?" Her eyes shone hopefully for a brief moment, then they dulled. "This has to be a dream," Erica whispered, "You left," she stated, pointing at me, "I know you did." After looking me over, she shook her head and sighed longingly. "God, you're so gorgeous this time. This is torture; I know you're not real," she grumbled. "I'll probably be chained to the wall somewhere when I wake up." Did she just call me gorgeous? And how often does she get chained to a wall!? I stared down at Erica, who was pacing back and forth across the cliff edge in front of me, ranting about the likelihood of everything being a fever dream.

"But," I interjected, slightly confused, "I am real. Erica, I'm back. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm here. What happened? Where is everyone?" She only laughed and brushed me off with a dismissive wave. "Yeah, like you don't already know," Erica chuckled sarcastically. "I'm sure the real Alexis wouldn't give two shits about this place. She's off in her own world — probably forgot about me." Saying this, Erica stopped pacing and her expression fell. She turned from me, and I suddenly felt very melancholy about disappearing for so long. How do I get her to listen to me? Usually in movies someone needs to feel pain before they know they're not dreaming. I won't hurt her, but maybe…

Tentatively leaning over the cliffside, I reached out and brushed her arm gently with the pad of my finger. I couldn’t think of much else I could try, but maybe that would be enough to snap her out of it. At my touch, Erica stiffened and slowly turned to me, eyes widening with recognition. She dazedly reached out with her free hand and gently placed it over mine, still hovering by her side. Finally, she seemed to realize that our meeting wasn't her imagination.

"Is this..? Are you..?" Try as she might, she couldn't finish a sentence without choking up. I was filled with ecstatic joy now that she recognized me. A smile spread lopsided across my face. "I'm here. It's me," I assured her. She grasped my hand in a fierce wave of emotion before stumbling backwards out of my grasp. "But.. how? Why? You're here! You're actually here, holy shit!" she yelled, overjoyed. "You asshole," Erica chided suddenly, "Where the hell have you been? I waited weeks, months even, and you didn't come back. Then the world went to shit and I thought: 'for sure she'll show up to fix this', but you didn't!"

Now she had her arms crossed, glaring up at me. "My house was destroyed, I barely escaped with my life. I went to John, I- fuck, I don't know why. I shouldn't have, but I didn't know he'd gone batshit insane! I- he.." Erica quieted, thinking back to who knows what. Eventually, she held up her wrists in silent explanation. They were rubbed raw where the chains had been, and I shuddered at the sight. "Where were you? I needed you!"

I looked down at her indignantly. Although I did feel sorry for her, I couldn't help it. "You told me to leave and never come back! I was traumatized by what I'd done, and I swore I would never return to this world again!" I explained in exasperation. "I'm only here now by coincidence, and I have to leave in a week to go back to school. I came here to say my final goodbyes before my way here gets destroyed, only to find everything in ruins, and people dead in the street!"

Erica was taken aback by this. Her arms fell limply at her sides and her angry expression melted away. "But you can't leave," she said solemnly, "I- I know I told you not to come back, but I didn't think you'd actually listen. You- You never actually really left before, just distanced yourself for a while." Erica tilted her head back to gaze up at me meaningfully. “I honestly thought you would still come around to check up on me, and try to help out like you always do to make up for things. You actually leaving.. That is what I told you to do, but I guess it.. it isn’t what I wanted. It isn’t what I meant! I just wanted you to leave me alone for a while! I- I didn’t want you to leave for forever! You were supposed to come back for me.”

Erica was quiet for a while, then gasped. "That fight in the city, did that-? That actually happened, didn't it? He.. he’s dead?" I nodded slowly. Erica stilled, undoubtedly realizing the full extent of what I'd seen and what had happened. Her face flushed and she looked away, ashamed. I doubted she'd have wanted me to find her so helpless like that. She was even forced to wear an awful outfit the thugs from the city had given her; if you could even call it that. There was significantly more bear skin than fabric, but she had no other option. Her actual clothes were likely lost to the rubble of the mansion.

A long, heavy silence filled the air. My mind was still reeling from the fact that she'd been waiting for me all this time. I was so sure she never wanted to see me again. "I remember.. in the city.." Erica whispered, barely audible. "You said you wouldn't leave me."

I could practically feel my heart shatter at her words. For so long I'd been trying my hardest to forget about Erica, and all along she was right here waiting for me. To stay would mean undoing all of the progress I made moving on in life; to grow up and forget this fantasy. But leaving would prevent any chance for me to start something new. I wanted so badly to have Erica’s trust. I’d broken it too many times, but now she truly needed it.

As Erica gazed up at me with gut-wrenching uncertainty, I could feel something steel up inside my chest. Some primal, protective urge clawed its way through my mind with chilling determination. Whatever happened to her while I was gone will not happen again. Not on my watch. Leaning over the cliffside, I carefully inched a finger closer until it brushed lightly against her cheek. "Never,” I said earnestly, “I will never leave you again." My words resounded in the soft quiet between us. "I'll only ever go if you ask."

Erica nodded, tearing up. I bent down even further, resting my chin on the ground in front of her. Hesitantly, Erica stepped closer and brought my head even lower, pressing her forehead to mine. I held my breath as chills wrung down my spine. We've never been this close before. I closed my eyes; I've only ever dreamed of a moment like this, back when I had good dreams about her. Relief swept through me in a shuddering gasp, and suddenly I was in tears. I guess I’d never realized how much I missed being there.

I can't really lie to myself, though; I didn't miss this world nearly as much as I missed her. "Oh god, don't cry," Erica laughed halfheartedly, "Then I'll start crying too." I smiled as she brushed a tear off my cheek, lifting my head slightly to see her. I couldn't help it, I blushed rose pink. We held each other's gaze for a moment, then I sighed. "I'm just happy to be back." Erica nodded, and I slowly pulled away, propping up my head on my arms, smiling blissfully. Then I caught a glimpse of the ruined mansion.

I bolted upright. Suddenly, all my questions came racing back to me. "What happened here? Where is everyone?" I asked. “I was so worried; I came back and everything’s dead.” Erica blinked in confusion, her smile slowly disappearing in thought. Damn it, I didn't mean to upset her. "You know what, nevermind. I- You don't have to tell me now. Let's celebrate my return; I brought snacks!"

"You really don't know?" Erica asked, interrupting me. She studied me closely. "I guess people might want to keep this a secret," she mumbled, motioning for me to come back down. I knelt in front of her over the cliffside so we were eye to eye. Erica fidgeted nervously with her hands, flinching as she touched the raw circles of skin on her wrists. "Well, there's no easy way to say this, but.. I think your people have been abducting us for science… And before you say 'that's impossible'," she added hastily just before I could say it, "I've seen it happen. That's where everyone went. I think. Hopefully some of us escaped."

I was struck speechless. Why? How? Did they know the secret to this world? Obviously not, or whoever it is would be mind-controlling everyone to their will. "You have to help us," Erica insisted suddenly, "I know you don't care about my world or anyone besides me, but.. Are you really just going to stand by and watch everything burn?"

"What?" I asked in disbelief, "I- Why do you think that? I care about your world!" "Then help us,” she spat back, “If you care so much." "I will," I said matter-of-factly. "Great. When the hazmat giants come back through their portal you can tell them to fuck off." "What makes you think they'll listen to me? Clearly they aren't very reasonable." "You're one of them," Erica said, exasperated, "They have to listen to you."

I sighed and sank to the ground below, trying to process everything that happened while I was gone. I lay back on the face of the cliff. It’s only been four years, yet it seems like a lifetime ago. How did my world even find this one? What are they planning to do with everyone they took? Maybe Erica misunderstood, and the people who used to live here are just hiding somewhere. Why haven’t I heard about anyone finding this place on the news? It must be some top-secret government project. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I would’ve heard about the discovery of a tiny world.

Looking out over the wreckage of neighborhoods, I could now see the slight hints of people my own size. Footprints in the ground and divots made by machinery suddenly became glaringly obvious. The overpowering stench of gasoline also made a bit more sense. It was too powerful for anything other-worldian, but about average for something my own scale.

“So,” Erica prompted, “you’ll get rid of them?” I nodded, “I’ll talk to them, find out what’s going on.” “But you’ll get rid of them, right?” I glanced up at the top of the cliff, a few inches above me. Erica was standing there, peering down at me while trying to keep away from the edge. “Yeah, I’ll try. I don’t know how well they’ll react to some random person from their own world telling them to get out, though.” Erica shrugged, “Worth a shot.” I nodded in agreement. The sun was slowly sinking; it wasn’t getting dark quite yet, but it was low enough to tell the day was coming to an end. I pulled some of the snacks out of the pile of my things on the ground nearby. “Here, eat something,” I told Erica, handing her some of the shrunken food. I stood to go collect wood for a fire, since the lights in the house were clearly damaged beyond repair.

Before I could take more than a step away from the cliff, Erica called out after me. “Wait! Where are you going?” She sounded so concerned; did she think I was leaving to my own world? "I'm just going to get firewood, I'll be right back." Erica glanced around uneasily, as if she were expecting some apparition to appear in the growing shadows and steal her off. "Do you have to?" I gave her a small knowing smile, I had promised not to leave her. "Would you rather come with me?" I asked, offering her my hand. Erica hesitated briefly, then nodded and climbed on.

Despite having been gone for years, she seemed rather comfortable with me. I knew it likely had something to do with events I wasn’t there to witness, though. Erica brought the blanket with her, and settled in a cozy little heap in the palm of my hand, tucked against my cupped fingers. I couldn't help but smile slightly at the feeling. Whatever the reason, I'm glad she's safe. For once it actually paid off to come back to this place.

There was plenty of easily accessible wood lying around thanks to all the destroyed houses, so it wasn't long before I'd gathered what I needed. Soon, a raging campfire was steadily burning on the cliffside. We ate dinner together and caught up on eachothers' lives. I didn't get much of an update on Erica's life; she didn't want to say much, which I completely understood. The only thing I noticed was that Erica had a scar over her left eye. I hadn't noticed it earlier, as I was a bit distracted by everything going on. That definitely wasn't there before I left. I didn't ask about it, though. I was afraid it might bring up some awful memory of John and the looters. In the end, I mostly just blabbered on about everything that had happened to me since the last day we were together, four years ago. Afterwards, we watched the sun dip below the horizon. The ruined skyline glaring at me from afar.

I should help them, right? My world shouldn't be messing with this one; that's not really a fair fight. Then again, that's a little ironic coming from me. I glanced down at Erica. She was tucked away into a sleeping bag she'd pulled from the rubble earlier, staring blankly skyward in thought. Our little bonfire had died down to a few smoldering wooden planks.

"Look at that!" Erica whispered suddenly, pointing at the cloudless night sky. "You never see shit like that around here. The city's usually too bright." I bent my head back to see what she meant. The stars shone so vividly without the light of suburban houses or the city to compete with. They flickered brightly in the vast black sky; it was as if you could reach out and grab one. I was in for a small surprise when I noticed that some of the stars were wild colors, not just the normal whites and blues. I’d spent so long in the other-world when I was younger, how had I never noticed that? "It's beautiful," I nodded, "but we should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." "You mean you have a long day ahead of you," Erica corrected me. "I'm not going anywhere near the hazmat giants, they could kill me way too easily. But then again, so can you."

I flinched; it was upsetting to think about. Even if I did eventually get Erica to fully trust me, there would always be a drastically uneven divide in power between us. Erica watched as I slowly hunched back down the cliffside, looking slightly guilty for ruining the mood. I'd tried to change my height to match hers a few times years ago. I’d created a small object for me to wear — similarly to how I the boxes I'd made in the past — which was supposed to make me their size when I wore it. However, when I tried it on, nothing happened. I guessed whatever influence I had on the other-world only worked with objects, not living things. How is it that I can become invisible, walk through walls, manipulate minds, and generate infinite money, but can't make one simple bracelet to shrink me to their size? It's unfair, really.

I turned to face Erica, "I would never-" "I know," Erica said, cutting me off. She turned over on her side, facing away from me. "I was just saying you could. You wouldn't. I.. I don’t think you will... Nevermind, just- Let's get some sleep." Sighing, I drifted down to the bottom of the cliff and sat with my thoughts for a while, just short of miserable.

#why’d the world have to get ruined while Alexis was gone?#hopefully Erica will be ok now that she’s safe…#other-world universe #g/t #giant tiny

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clearexpertarcade · 1 year

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Dude your getting fat

Joey understood the joys of indulging. So far, his favorite part of college was the food court. There were lots of options there: sodas, pizza, pasta, McDonald’s, Dunkin’ Donuts and pints of Ben & Jerry’s. The best part was that he had tons of points on his meal plan and no one to tell him no back home joey only ate healthy foods becouse his family forbid junk food now that he was no longer subject to his parents dictating his eating habits and being able to eat what he wanted when he wanted was the best On his first day of college joey ate for dinner two quarterpounders, a large fry, a large Coke, and a slice of cheesecake drizzled with chocolate syrup.

Joey became immediately obsessed with food…and lots of it. He visited the Pizza Hut lunch buffet every day, eating $50 of pizza for the $5 he plopped down. Dinners were spent between Chinese buffets and the college cafeteria; in both cases, Joey spent hours eating anything and everything he could get served

but Joey’s eating did’t go unnoticed Mikey was completely stunned with his roommate’s growing body Joey would sit on the couch eating food and watching TV all day long. Days passed and he followed the same routine every day, just eating and getting fatter as Joey’s weight ticked upward and upward, his belly and bulges getting bigger by the day reaching new levels of gluttony and before long his love of burgers and pastries were steadily increasing his waistline to the point joeys gut was on the verge of an overhang.

After three months of college joey’s gut now hung way over the top of his pants and jiggled like jello every time he moved Mikey opened the door to see his once thin roommate standing sitting at his desk. Joey’s belly was poking out of his extremely tight white undershirt that outlined every pound of fat as well as his plump womanly tits. He had on a tight pair of sweatpants too. They only made his love handles more pronounced. Mikey noticed that he was chewing and then he saw the pack of twinkies on his deck’s Mikey patted his roommate on the stomach and said, “Careful buddy, you’re gonna get fat.”

‘‘am not getting fat’‘

joey reply “I wonder how fat you’re gonna get before you actually realize it!”

Joey shrugged, getting anther Twinkie . “I’ll still hit the gym and run, you know?’’

“when do you Work out!” He immediately lifted Joeys’s shirt off of him and slapped his newly-fattened belly, watching the new rolls of fat ripple

Joey pushed his roommate away. “Gimme a break. I might’ve put on a few pounds but I’ll lose it.’

"A few!. Looks like two or three dozen to me I don’t think you could lose it…even if you tried” Mikey answered then lifting joey’s heft up and letting it fall and jiggle.

next few weeks Mikey noticed that joey Eating habits stayed the same and so did joey’s expanding waistline One morning, after getting out of the shower, joey put on his gray boxer briefs and noticed they were skin tight on his ass. His belly drooped a little over the elastic waistband. joey shrugged and pulled on his 33” cargo shorts having to suck in his gut to button his pants later as Joey ate at his He groaned again at the tightness in his stomach, and reached down to unbutton his tight shorts; shorts that he knew were loose on him just before he came to college. The button struggled, but his hands were deft and the clasp was freed. He sighed in relief as his stomach fell gratefully into the extra space.Joey then got up and and when to reach high in the shelf to get some more beers, the bottom of his belly got exposed due to the motion. Mikey saw the bottom part of his belly. It had a nice overhang now and belly lopes along with it. noticing joey softening middle hanging out of his shirt and noticing joey’s unbuttoned shorts.

“Dude, you’re getting fat. You can’t even close your shorts.”

“Shut up yes i can”

“OK Fatty then button them.”

Joey them Try to Button His pants again, but his stomach was in the way. He pulled hard, and managed to get the button nearer to fastening, but didn’t quite manage it. He sucked in his stomach, and had nearly buttoned them when he lost control of his belly and it went jiggling back into place. “Everything ok? Joey or did they shrink in the dryer” Joey jumped again, his face bright red. “I CAN BUTTON THEM!” Joey said hurriedly, surprised at how out of breath he sounded. “Yeah dose not look like it.” Mikey merely stared at him. Joey grinned and tried to fasten his pants again, pretending that nothing unusual was going on. But his belly was having none of it. He continued to fumble with the button, painfully aware of Mikey’s steady gaze. On what must have been his sixth or seventh attempt, he sucked in his stomach as far as he could and hastily forced the button shut. To his relief it fastened, and he relaxed his stomach. He thought he heard the button groan “see button” Joey said out of breath But then hurried into his bedroom and slammed the door shut, locked it, and began unbuttoning his pants allowing his stomach room to expand without having to suck it in for Mikey.

Joey pants were getting tighter and tighter to they finally gotten so tight They started leaving red marks after a long day joey would normally unbutton his pants when home alone but Joey leave it done no matter how tight he pants where getting whenever Mikey was home joey was sick of hearing how fat he was getting i mean it was a few pounds Joey did’t know why he was making such a big deal about it till joey could no longer deny hie growing gut from Mikey anymore when joey leaned forward to reach for his beer, when suddenly he heard the button on his shorts groan. There was a pinch at his waist, then a loud snap, and the pressure dissipated immediately from his waist as his button went flying across the room. His zipper gave under the pressure of his surging belly and jiggled wildly on his lap, jutting forward even farther than it had ever before, leaving his belly completely exposed, pale, flabby and jiggly right before Mikey’s eyes.Joey’s first reaction was to suck in his gut But Joey could only hold his stomach in for a few seconds before the muscles in his abdomen relaxed and his gut jiggled back into place Mikey let out a hysterical laugh and gave joey’s belly a slap. joey felt waves ripple through his thick fat

“Dude, i told you were going to getting fat now you can’t hide it your belly sticks out wherever you go”

‘‘am not fat Mikey you asshole’‘

“Prove it, fatty Let’s see how big you really are, fat boy”

Mikey reaches for a tape measure and wrap it around joey’s wast joey limitedly suck in he belly

“Only 42 inches? No way, porky! Let’s wait and see.”

Joey’s stomach muscles beginning to hurt from the strain of holding in his big gut before and in less then a minute joey’s muscles give out. and stomach suddenly inflates to its full size

“That’s more like it, porky. A nice, fat 48 inches ”

Mikey then slapped joey’s gut and pinched his newly pierced man tits, saying

“See how that belly looks Fatboy? You can’t tell me you don’t fucking see it Just look at you. A total fattened porker‘‘

#fatstory #fatboystory

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millepara · 3 months

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bye for now...

I DIDN'T cry in the arcade, I swear I didn't, depending on what your definition of crying is. lmao. I knew my eyes were less dry than usual but no one else would have.

I'm surprised, shocked even, that all three cabinets were still working. as mentioned here and there, I haven't been able to play for various reasons for a long time, so I have no idea how many people are still playing here. all I knew is from Luna posting about her trip where she encountered various defunct cabinets. I assumed that the ones at my home arcade would be the same. I guess that's the difference between tokyo and osaka at work... admittedly my arcade is hardly the top pretty series arcade in osaka, though. it's closest to the station so it's frequented by a lot of tourists etc passing through to spectate, which means it gets loud/a little unpleasant sometimes, which probably drives away most of the serious (?) primagi players (and those of other games too). but I can handle that if it means I'm not having to pack up all my cards and eject my usb and move after every single game.

anyway, none of that matters because I'm moving out of osaka and primagi is moving out of existence. the whole 3ish? hours I played today not a single other person came to play primagi until I was packing up to go. I was able to play and record everything I wanted to without being rushed or distracted or whatever. I almost didn't go at all because I'm moving next tuesday and it feels really irresponsible to go to the city and play at the arcade for hours this close, but... while packing I found a lithium ion battery that had swelled up into a mouse-sized pillow and the only place in the goddamn prefecture that will dispose of sick batteries happens to be a 20-minute walk away from my arcade. so I had no choice but to go!

luckily I set aside some coords & MAGIC☆VITAMIN's ids just in case back when I packed my pretty series box, so I already had that ready in my bag! kind of wish I'd gone over all of my coords a little better or picked coords that matched each other better, but I was focused on packing quickly at the time, and I didn't even use one of the coords I brought, so that doesn't even qualify as a regret. a little closer to a regret is how my larger usb did that thing where it gets too excited and stops recording in the middle of my game, so I spent the the last half of my arcade time muttering please please please PLEASE keep recording dont freak out you can do it come on come on--but it always does this so in a way, it was just like old times. back in the arcade with my wretched usb at my side. I got everything I wanted to record in one piece, at least, though it took a couple tries sometimes.

I was planning on only getting friend cards because I love looking at them and I don't need to start collecting coords on my final day of playing the game lmao, but!! I forgot or didn't know there are pretty rhythm coords in primagi!! I knew about the pripara and prichan ones, but other than Mirai's they were mostly stuff I don't care abt seeing on my idols... but the pretty rhythm ones!! they added so many details and definition to update the coords for primagi, and I love looking at that sort of thing!! I only did extra shopping one time when pure premium wedding and rainbow 7th coord showed up in the same game, and then with the random cards you get at the end of the game I managed to finish both, as you can see at the beginning of this post :)

I ended up playing an extra game with Milk because I wanted to see her in the wedding dress, and I was planning on playing one final game with Biscuit, but then... well, I'm totally unaware of the new songs aside from Miruki's Puzzle Buzz one, so I just chose the Himeme/Mychara Girls duet because I wanted to see a Milk/Biscuit pretty rhythm duo, and.... oh my god. it was the cutest song in the world, even (impossibly!) cuter than Buzzle. my idols got engaged......... in pretty rhythm wedding dresses..... . it seemed like too perfect a place to finish my primagi career (and I had to record it twice bc of my usb) (and I didn't particularly have any coord/song in mind to use for Biscuit after that) (and right after hearing morning and gift in the arcade after so long it was a direct hit to my idol emotions) so I finished up and went home.

I'm really glad I got to play one last time. I had already resigned myself to the fact that I just wouldn't get to, that's how it had to be and it sucks that I'm moving at the same time, and I figured it would be fine because I haven't been able to play regularly. but I feel so relieved since I went! I'm going to the middle of nowhere so I won't be able to play aipri verse regularly even if I want to (tbd), so I think this nice long farewell concert helped me feel ok about primagi ending and moving away and whatever aipri is going to be instead of just like... it's inevitable, so oh well.

I haven't had time to check the vids yet. fingers crossed that they turned out fine...

#more of a diary entry and less abt primagi specifically. its my blog i can do anything #milk idol diary #primagi arcade

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immajustvibehere · 2 years

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❛ i never quite realised how lovely you could be. ❜ please? Female reader if possible

The Caretaker

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

oneshot, seperated in three parts, but you find all of them under the cut

summary: You join the gang shortly before the Blackwater masacre and quickly find comfort in the gang's enforcerer, Arthur Morgan. Even you seem to catch his eye, as he starts to flatter you with little gifts. When he flees from the O'Driscolls, you have the honor of taking care of him.

masterlist here!

When I finished the story I realised that part 1 & 2 are actually useless backstory. If you want to read a 10 minutes fluff (& mild hurt & comfort) just scroll down to Part 3! (This also includes the requested prompt) :D

5000 words, 30 minutes reading time

or 1800 words, 10 minutes reading time (if you skip to Part 3)

Part 1 - Exposition

You had become a part of the gang when they were camping near Blackwater. It was sheer coincidence that you ran into them, but every day you felt grateful that you did. Your father had kicked you out for - as you felt, and Dutch had agreed with you - unjustified reasons. Your parents had an outdated understanding of honor, which you found quite repulsive. Your dream was to work and earn money, if possible in an occupation where you could help people or change something for the better; but your parents cherished the idea of you becoming a housewife to a reputable man. As soon as you were of age, there was talk of finding you a good match and securing you a fine husband. No matter how much you pleaded that you'd rather work at your father's apothecary, even if it was just sweeping the floors, and marry someone you actually liked, your parents had set their mind to execute their plan of your future.

Maybe it's fair to say that it wasn't your father who "kicked" you out. Rather, in a fight where both of you had gotten louder, he had said something along the lines of ‘if you wanted to bring dishonor to this family, do it without us knowing and piss off’. This is what you did. And barely a few hours had passed when you met Dutch at the saloon. Dutch bought you a couple of drinks and before you knew it, he had teased out every last bit of your life's story and assessed the value you could bring to his gang. When he asked you if you were okay with living in a gang of murderers and bandits (he had phrased prettier) you had been too drunk to fully understand what you were getting into. An hour later and sobered up from the ride on Dutch's horse, you found yourself in a camp full of outlaws.

Over the next couple of days, you slowly got to know everyone. The first night you slept under the open sky was terrible. You feared that you had made a terrible mistake and would end up abused and eventually dead; but over the next couple of days, you learned that most people were very kind. The girls immediately welcomed you and after a week you already felt accepted in your new family. Dutch put you in charge for the management of the medical supplies and in general as someone capable of patching the men up if they needed it. Despite your father denying your official help in his pharmacy, you had learned a lot just by hanging around, watching and listening. You knew how to do stitches and you could bring down a fever in a couple of hours. Treating Jack's splinters, disinfecting wounds after someone had been in a bar fight or dealing with snake bites was of no challenge to you.

However, there wasn't much time to get comfortable. Barely two weeks after you had been welcomed in the gang, you had to flee. It was the messiest escape anyone could have pulled off. You had to admit that you again had regrets when you quickly packed everything valuable that couldn't be left behind onto the wagons, trembling hands making it difficult to make firm knots. "I got this, go help Tilly!", a stern voice appeared behind you. You were carefully pushed away by Arthur's hands on your shoulders. For you, this was the moment when you properly noticed him for the first time. You had been introduced, of course, but Arthur had seemed absent-minded, and his nod of recognition had been a bit too cold for you to think that he was too happy of having you in the gang. But when you had let go of the rope you had tried to knot together and looked up to Arthur, nothing could have been more reassuring in this moment than his gentle gaze on you. He was a valuable member of the gang and though everyone in the gang seemed to converse and interact on eye-level, you sensed Arthur's high status. He didn't have Dutch's charm or Hosea's creativity, but in a way he had enough of both, additionally to the force and strength to bend things to his liking. Arthur still was somewhat of a mystery to you but being recognized and acknowledged by him in the way of grounding hands on your shoulder and a simple demand suddenly made it easier to approach him.

The following days were rough. You had to flee into the mountains and a snowstorm was making sure that your progress was slow, cold and painful. Never before had you experienced so much death. You had lost Jenny and Mac, Davey was groaning and dying in the same wagon you were sitting in with Abigail, Jack and Tilly. Besides your trembling hands and your inexperience when it came to fatal gun wounds, you treated Davey as well as you could. Still, everyone knew that he didn't have long. Even though Arthur was regularly tasked with scouting ahead, every time he returned, he would stop by at the wagon you were in, inquire about Davey and ask if you were warm enough. Everyone was freezing, but this was a question of survival, rather than comfort. Even when you had arrived in Colter, it seemed like Arthur made an extra effort to make sure you had food and weren't cold. Back then, you attributed this additional attention to him realizing how freaked out you were and having lost people who could have been considered in your care.

Things started to change when you reached Horseshoe Overlook. While you had been treated with care, so you wouldn't be scared off, Miss Grimshaw did everything to put you to work from this point onwards. You - and the other girls - worked yourself sore with chores all day long. You rose early and went to bed sometimes before the sun was fully set. There was a lot to do, now that you had found a place where you could stay for a while. Arthur greeted you occasionally, but there wasn't the same care or concern on his face like it was in the mountains. You made it your task to observe Arthur more closely. It painfully reminded you that you still were in a camp full of outlaws, bad men and degenerates.

Arthur's as well as the other men's cruel remarks towards Kieran, who you fully believed hadn't done anything wrong and was misjudged by most of the gang, disgusted you. You treated Kieran's rashes on his wrists when the ropes had cut into them or cared about him staying hydrated. For you, there was nothing funny about hearing Arthur's or Sadie's insults that were thrown at this man. Also, even though you didn't specifically kept count, Arthur returned with scratches or black eyes more than anyone else in the gang. He wouldn’t even let you treat them, dismissing you with a sarcastic: "Very kind of you Miss y/n, but I'm fine."

The harder you tried, the less you understood Arthur. The deep understanding you seemed to have of him in the cold slipped away with every day you heard more about what he was getting up to when he left the camp for a day’s work. It was tricky forming an opinion of him. One evening he returned and tells everyone how he and Micah shot up half of Strawberry, the next day he makes your heart flutter when he heaves Jack onto his horse to take him fishing. Anyways, you never saw too much of him. He was often riding out and even if he returned at night, you'd be in bed, exhausted from doing the dishes and patching up pants and boots.

One evening, you were getting ready for bed and finishing up your last chore of the day, feeding the chicken, when Arthur approached you.

"Y/N", he greeted you. This wasn't unusual. He did greet you from time to time, but he'd often stick to a nod and your name, sometimes a "good morning" and then he would go on, doing whatever he had set his mind on doing that day.

"Evening, Mr. Morgan." Honestly, how you addressed him changed according to your mood. You had called him by his first name before, and sometimes you would go back to calling him sir. Recently, you had started to notice that he called you by your first name when nobody was around. Hence, him calling you like that right now. You preferred it. Your family had raised you to be courteous to people who you weren't properly acquainted with or were of higher rank, and you struggled to shake off the old habit.

"How have ya been holdin' up?", he asked, lighting a cigarette and watching you spread the corns.

"Fine. It's a lot of work but...I prefer this side of the country. I didn't like the dry and brown grass around Blackwater. Washing dishes is not so bad when you can sit in green grass doing it, I suppose", you smiled. You swiped the last grains off your hands and turned around to face Arthur, who was watching you attentively. A few moments passed in silence before the man stirred into action again. With the cigarette loosely resting on his lips, he started fumbling around in his satchel.

"Tha's right. Wanted to give ya something", he mumbled. You watched how the cigarette danced on his lips, never falling but threatening to, if the smoker showed a second of negligence. "Here ya go", Arthur pulled your attention from his lips away to a bear claw on a string, which he now dangled in front of your eyes. The claw was huge, about the same size as your middle finger, and on one side there was a fine engraving of a bear. "Is this-?", you wanted to ask when you took the claw into your hand.

"The bear I shot with Hosea", Arthur answered. He had returned with some nasty scratches about a week ago after his hunting trip with Hosea. This was pretty much the only time he let you patch him up, probably because he couldn't have reached some of those wounds on his back himself. "For yer trouble", he added. You smiled and felt your cheeks get warm. This was a fine gift. "Thank you!"

"Sure", Arthur almost dismissed it, "if ya don't like it, it should be worth something. I commissioned a fence with the engraving. He probably got it done for way under the market price."

"Oh, I won't sell this", you quickly stated, "it's a beautiful reminder that even you sometimes need some assistance." Arthur clicked his tongue, his lips curled into a slight smile. "If ya say so."

Part 2 - Little Gifts

As soon as you were used to and had learned to appreciate Horseshoe Overlook, Dutch, John and Arthur were chased out of Valentine by the law and returned with a shot Strauss in tow. Apparently, a man whose train they had robbed a couple weeks back had located them in Valentine and a shoot-out had happened. While you patched up Strauss with gentle care; since he wasn't as rough and thick-skinned like the rest of the men, there was talk of moving. You had witnessed some detectives suddenly standing in the middle of your camp a few days prior, so you imagined that a change of location was appropriate anyways. In the evening of the same day, the gang had reached Lemoyne and settled on a piece of land called Clemens Point. Though the move and packing weren’t as stressful as the time you left Blackwater, with bullets flying past your ears, you were drained after you had done your bit of preparing the new spot for the first night. Later, you completely passed out on your mattress, before you even noticed that Arthur had tried talking to you.

"Y/n!", Arthur called on you after you had dressed for the day and finished your cup of coffee. You looked up to locate where his voice had come from, but Arthur was already approaching you from his tent. He was neatly dressed in a shirt you hadn’t seen him wear before. The new shirt was probably due to his other one being stained with blood from yesterday – not his own blood, he had assured you after he had returned from Valentine and you had given him a quizzical look.

"Good morning", you offered him a kind smile. The morning air was still fresh, and the birds were slowly waking up, chirping and singing. It was marvelous watching them fly low over the lake to catch bugs. Arthur and you were two of a handful of people who were already awake, the rest was still resting from the demanding relocation.

"Ya ever seen real gold", Arthur asked.

"Hmm", you had to think for a second before you answered, "Don't think so. In a coin, maybe."

"Look at that", Arthur pulled out a gold ingot about the size of your hand.

"Wow", your mouth was agape, "That's worth a lot, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded and proceeded to tell you the story about the Germans, whose father he and Charles had saved. While he told you this story, you thought about how this was the longest he had ever spoken to you, and you enjoyed every second of it. He let you hold the ingot, which you carefully weighed in your hand and looked for your vague reflection in the polished metal.

Over the next couple of days, you noticed Arthur's attempts of starting a conversation with you. You were always happy about the attention and even happier when Arthur started to bring you little things he found on his journeys. One day it was a beautiful songbird feather, the next it was a violet snowdrop, a handful of blackberries he had picked or an extra bar of chocolate he had "accidentally" purchased. It had almost become a ritual: Whenever you saw Arthur returning to camp, you’d walk up to him, greet him with a “you should hurry before all the stew’s gone” and he would jump off his horse and make you blush with a “I got something for you”.

You brought it up one afternoon, when you sat in a circle with the girls, all of you busy with another piece of clothing that needed patching.

"I never expected Arthur to be so kind to women. First, I thought he hated me because he was so cold and distant, but now he started bringing me stuff almost every day", you introduced the topic.

"Kind to women?", Tilly asked, a cheeky smile already forming on her lips.

"Yes. He does bring you flowers too, doesn't he?", you asked, still in the belief that you weren't an exception when it came to Arthur's attention.

"Oh, of course", Tilly joked, "look at this basket full of flowers Arthur gave me over the last couple of weeks." She nodded towards the empty laundry basket. The girls giggled at your confusion, but Mary-Beth didn't want to tease you for long.

"Arthur has maybe brought me...one gift ever. And this was months ago. He likes you, y/n. We thought you had noticed!", Mary-Beth explained. You blushed at the topic of your discussion. "You think so?", you quickly asked, more due to a lack of having nothing else to say.

"We know so", Mary-Beth confirmed.

"And we know that you like him back", Tilly added.

"I do!?", you asked, trying to hide your red cheeks by looking down at the shirt you were mending.

"I'm sure the way you blush and smile every time you see him or treasure every gift, he gives you does not indicate any affection whatsoever", Mary-Beth teased.

"But- Arthur never said anything-", you stuttered.

"Neither did you!", Tilly interrupted.

You grumbled in defeat. Apparently, it was obvious that you liked Arthur and that Arthur liked you. Now you only had to find a way to resolve all of this. You thought about his higher status in the gang and how new you still were. Would it be even appropriate to approach him about that? Surely not. And what if the girls had it wrong and he was just...being kind, so you would feel at home after the uncomfortable start you had had. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dutch who yelled out "Gentlemen? Like Colm O'Driscoll?"

"They want a parley? It's a trap", Hosea chipped in from across camp. You and the girls weren't the only ones whose attention was caught by the conversation. Some of the men, including Arthur, gathered around a table in a livid discussion. Two minutes later, you saw Arthur, Micah and Dutch mounting their horses to ride out.

"What was that about?", Karen wondered.

"I don't even want to know", Mary-Beth sighed.

Your eyes however were fixed on Arthur's back which slowly disappeared in the shadow of the trees.

Micah and Dutch returned the same night, without Arthur. You were in no position to ask what had happened, but from Dutch's expression you could tell that it surely didn't go according to plan. Over the next two days, nobody wondered where Arthur was. When you asked, out of concern and worry, the replies were similar to "probably out looking for a lead", but deep down you knew this wasn't true. Even though you still worked yourself sore every day, you stayed up late, hoping you'd catch Arthur in case he returned at night.

On the third night it paid off. You weren't the only one who noticed the slouched rider who fell from his horse when it arrived in camp. But when Karen, Mary-Beth and Dutch approached the figure now stretched out on the floor, you already knew exactly what was going on.

"Miss Grimshaw, I need help! Reverend Swanson! Miss y/l/n!", Dutch yelled.

You jumped up and joined the group of people forming a circle around Arthur. He leaned on Pearson's support, Dutch leading him to his cot. His union suit and weapon's belt were the only thing he wore, and on his shoulder, you saw an evil looking wound. You could tell, though the light was only dim, that Arthur was in a horrible condition. Maybe not fatal, but the state he was in clearly wasn’t a comfortable one. The warmth drained from you fingertips, the realization that a man who could probably handle a broken nose with a shrug and a bottle of whiskey could barely stand, let alone walk, shocked you.

"You're safe now, Arthur. You're safe now", Dutch repeated. A bit of anger arose in you as you ran to the medical wagon to gather everything you'd need for proper first aid. You were sure that Dutch’s and Micah’s negligence had brought this upon Arthur.

"That's pretty, Dutch", Arthur coughed as he fell onto his cot, "that's real pretty."

Dutch looked out for you, who was fast approaching Arthur's tent, arms full with medically supplies. "Miss y/n. Will you tend to his wounds and sit with him for a while?"

"On it", you confirmed, spilling the supplies across Arthur's table and readying yourself for the treatment.

Part 3 - The Wounded

There he lay in front of you. Arms and legs sprawled out, his union suit dirty and stained with blood. The wound on his shoulder looked nasty, but you could immediately tell that he had already taken care of it - to an extent. You were nervous beyond comprehension. You had taken care of Strauss' and John's gunshot wounds, but this was different. The wound wasn't fresh plus the man who suffered from it was one you cared the most for. You whirled around, your gaze landing on the faces of Miss Grimshaw and Swanson.

"Reverend, could you bring me a bowl of water? And Miss Grimshaw, please be so kind and close the tent flaps. I got it from here", you ordered. While Miss Grimshaw had total control over you when it came to washing dishes, she knew that you were in your element when administering first aid and she respected you for that. As soon as the flaps were closed and you had washed your hands, you turned to Arthur who was heavily breathing on his cot. Your eyes met his tired and exhausted ones.

"You're going to fine, Arthur", you affirmed, "I'll patch you up."

"Yeah, that's alright", he said in a raspy voice, his eyes slowly closing.

He was out the very second. It was difficult to get his limp body out of his union suit, but you were determined to at least have his upper body naked, so you could properly assess the damage. Besides the gun wound, which you swiftly cleaned again and patched up, there were several bruises on his abdomen that suggested he was being hit multiple times, probably tortured. It took you almost an hour to treat every scratch and bruise, but you had set your mind to doing it properly. It would have been hard to put into words what you felt when you treated Arthur. Mostly, you were just angry that this had happened. Then you felt anxious, what if you had done something wrong and the wound wouldn't heal? But at the end you just felt tired.

With your hands freshly washed you sat down on the chair next to Arthur's cot and took his hand into yours. It was what your mother had always done when you were sick and suffering. There hadn't been anything else she could do, with your father being the proficient doctor, but she would always sit next to you, simply being there and granting you physical contact. You tried sitting on the chair and holding Arthur's hand, but your eyelids became heavy and you fell asleep a couple of times, only to be woken up when gravity made your head jerk down. So, you decided to settle down on the ground next to Arthur's cot, kneeling next to it, your arms and head resting next to Arthur's hips, his hand still in yours in front of your face.

You were woken with the soft touch of Arthur's thumb slowly caressing your cheek. It took you a couple of moments to understand where you were but when you had finally pieced together everything you sat up straight. The twisted sleeping position hadn't done you any good. The backpain started to harass you the second you took your first conscious breath. It was still dark in the tent, only a ray of sunlight had found its way through the flaps and illuminated the dust dancing in the air. Arthur's eyes found yours, his hand which had cupped your cheek now resting motionlessly at his side.

"How do you feel?", you were the first to disturb the silence.

"Fine", Arthur answered briefly.

"No- but really", you asked again. The sweat on Arthur's forehead made you suspicious. It wasn't that hot, and he was...barely clothed. You hadn't even tried to put his union suit back on, so he had been left half naked all night. Arthur couldn't finish his shrug before you felt his temperature on his forehead. A mild fever, you quickly assessed.

"Don't lie to me. Not when you're in my care", you said worriedly. You tried to hide the stress in your voice, but you weren't sure if you had done such a great job at that. You blamed yourself for not waking up earlier, for having fallen asleep when Arthur was getting a fever.

"Sorry", he apologized before he avoided your gaze. You smiled gently; you weren't mad at him, and there was no point in blaming you. You silently prepared a mixture of some herbs and dipped a cloth in water to place on his forehead.

"It's just a mild fever. Maybe a small infection in addition to the stress...you're going to be alright. We'll have this fever down in no time", you explained, handing him the mixed herbs that you blended with water for Arthur to drink. "Taste's awful", you warned. It was gone in one gulp, and though you saw him scrunch his nose he didn't complain.

The fever was gone after a few hours, but Arthur remained exhausted for a couple more days. Most of the day you'd sit at his side, sometimes caressing his hair or hand when he was tired enough to barely notice. Arthur rarely spoke for the first two nights, he only groaned when he had to get up and walk to the forest with shaky knees or thanking you when you handed him a cup of water. One time, he asked you for a cigarette and as he reached out to take it, unconsciously used his hurt arm, which resulted in him flinching back. So you slowly brought the cigarette closer to his lips. Arthur shot you a curious gaze before he allowed you to let the cigarette rest in the corner of his mouth. He patiently waited for you to light a match and consequently the cigarette, puffing it a few times before he finally used his perfectly working arm to smoke comfortably. Never would you have thought to wait for a sign of gratitude, you knew that Arthur wasn’t a person who liked to be taken care of. He didn’t want to be a burden, you understood that sentiment. But every day you sat at his bedside you found him accepting your help more and more and you could tell, just by the way he looked at you, that he was slowly starting to enjoy it.

You often fell asleep with your head resting on his cot, and just as often would you wake up with Arthur's hand on your cheek. After the fifth day, Miss Grimshaw made you work chores again. Arthur still had bedrest. Every opportunity you found; you'd join him in his tent. Chopping carrots? You would do it on his desk. Mending trousers? Why not by his side? When Arthur had rested enough and though he wasn't physically fit, he'd talk to you a lot. You'd find the opportunity to tell him more about your family and the circumstances that made you join the gang. He, in turn, would tell you a bit about the earlier days, when it was just Dutch, Hosea, John, Miss Grimshaw and him.

It was in those hours that you got closer. You didn't stop holding his hand after the first night, you had made a habit of it. At first, only when he was falling asleep, but soon you found yourself brave enough to grab his hands when you were telling each other stories. You couldn't help but blush, every time you demanded his hand, but the embarrassment disappeared when, one night, he was the one who grabbed your hand.

It was late, his tent flaps were closed, and the only source of light was a lantern flickering on the table. You were seated on the cot next to Arthur, a reasonable distance between you.

"Thank you fer takin' good care of me", Arthur mumbled.

"Naturally", you smiled, "I'm just glad I found a purpose in this gang. Caring for you folks..."

"So what? Every man here gets the hand holding treatment? Is that what ya did to Marston after ya stitched his face up?", Arthur teased.

You giggled: "No. I dare say that's special treatment just for you."

"Yer treatin' me way better than I deserve, ya know", Arthur said after a short silence. His eyes darted around in the tent, searching for something to direct his attention towards.

"I don't think so. Spending so much time with you over the last couple of days...I think I never quite realized how lovely you could be", you admitted. That's right. You never thought that the man who gave you the cold shoulder and the enforcer of the gang, the brute who can shot up half of Valentine or Strawberry would happily shuffle in his cot when you let your hand glide through his hair. This time it was Arthur's turn to blush. Even in the dim light of the lantern you could see his colored cheeks. Even his ears were a brighter red than usual. You grinned satisfied at his embarrassed state. Arthur had to take a double take at your face to figure out what you were so smug about before he said:

"Look at ya, all happy about me being helpless. Don't even wanna know what yer parents would say about ya going around flattering a bad outlaw", Arthur was desperately looking for a topic that would give him control over the conversation. Your comment about him being lovely had thrown him off course more than he'd like to admit, and he struggled under the knowledge that you knew you had an advantage at the moment.

"I can imagine what they'd say but...here I am giving a damn on their opinion", you answered. You finally realized that the manners of the gang had rubbed off on you. Never before in your quiet household in Blackwater would you've been able to talk like that to your parents. Suddenly you found yourself holding eye contact with Arthur. It wouldn't have been any easier figuring out what both of you were thinking if you had been an open book. You would be lying if you said that you didn't think about kissing Arthur a lot the last couple of days. He was so handsome, especially when he was asleep, and you had taken the time to study his features. Deep down, you hoped he had done the same when you had fallen asleep and were woken by his hand caressing your cheek. There was a certain magnetic pull in the situation you were in. Neither could you move forward, nor backwards. You felt frozen in place, unable to close the little distance that was between you and Arthur. Doubt started to creep up in you quickly. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe not yet. But your thoughts were interrupted by Arthur, who blinked and suddenly spoke to you in a low voice.

"Y/n...it's okay if ya say no, but I'd really like to-"

"Yes!", you nodded hastily, and you could barely close your eyes before Arthur's free hand found its place on your cheek, cupping it carefully, as his lips made contact with yours.

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