#i tried to make him look as hipster as I could manage I hope it came through
Note
Hiii! I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but how about a rafe fic where he is super sweet and gentle and just soft with the reader in private but an asshole once their in public? Just angst and a lil but of fluff and rafe being rafe, if that’s not too much to ask!
Facade ; Rafe Cameron
masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: “This whole thing you’re showing to people. . . that’s not you. Fuck you.”
Warnings: Angst, angst, and more angst. Not the ending everyone’s expecting (I think)
A/N: I’m extremely sorry if this isn’t my best work but thank you for 700+ followers wtf ily <3 finishing all requests in my inbox this week!
“Don’t leave me yet,” Rafe groans. He places his arms around her waist, snuggling close. Her scent of strawberry wafts into his nostrils, and he closes his eyes against her warmth.
“Work.” she mumbles, and tries to stand up again. But Rafe does not let go, still holding onto her skin as if on his last breath, and she lets out a chuckle at the adorable sight.
“I can pay you twice the amount you’re working for right now,” he says. He finally let go of her, and slumps into the vacant pillows that she had slept in a few hours ago.
“I know, and I won’t give you the satisfaction of doing so,” she smiles, and take the chance of freedom to walk towards the bathroom. She checks the naked boy on top of the bed from the mirror, her heart soaring.
His boy.
She kisses him on the cheeks when she’s finally done, swiping her thumb on his pink lips as he whimpers softly in his sleep. She kisses him again, this time on the lips, for good measures.
(Y/N) never really like the restaurant in the country club, because it’s full of impolite kooks and bratty tourists. But money is money, and she’ll never say no to a good sum of them.
She sighs, clearing another dirty table all while thinking of Rafe in his room. Her insides suddenly beam when his kisses slides through her memory, and she wishes the clock would turn faster.
She slides in the empty back room, pulling her phone out from her back pocket and tapping on the top name of her contact. Her fingers glide effortlessly, her mouth forming a smile.
miss you.
Three seconds later, her phone dings.
Rafe: Disgusting.
Rafe: Miss you more :)
She wants to go back to him as soon as possible.
The door behind her back open before she can stuff her phone back in, and she struggles to appear busy as the manager peek his head in.
“What are you doing here? It’s full house. You got a table.”
(Y/N) look up to him, trying to pretend like she wasn’t just skipping some time to text her boyfriend, and nods.
Okay, maybe not boyfriend. She’s not completely sure. They never really certify anything, but whatever’s going on between them is definitely something more than ‘friends’.
She sighs again, picking up a menu before heading towards the group of friends sitting at the long table by the golf course.
“Hey, welcome to—”
Oh my god.
“Hey, you’re (Y/N), right?”
(Y/N)’s attention snaps back to the blonde boy sitting next to Rafe, and she gulps before nodding slowly. “Um, yeah.”
“You work here?”
Is he stupid?
She refrains herself from rolling her eyes, “Yes.”
Rafe scans the menu, not looking at her, and she feel a tug at her heart. Why is he pretending not to know her? She’s not expecting a sudden hug or a kiss on the lips; she’s thinking of something like a goddamn smile.
“Might come down here often, then,” the boy laughs, and the others follow him. Except for Rafe. “What’s the best order here?”
“Pasta,” she mumbles. He’s still looking at the menu, clearly trying to ignore her piercing stare.
“Which one?” The blonde sighs, flipping through the menu. “You got bolognese, carbonara—”
“Aglio Olio,” she answers quickly. He can choke and starve for all she cares for ruining her day like this. Why would he need her opinion on this as if he has never tasted on every single dish on this menu?
“I’ll take that one,” he smiles, and peeks over her arms. “Did you write that down? Can I see it?”
What a fucking cunt.
“That’s it?” She asks, tilting her head to one side. She takes more orders from the other boys, but there’s only one left.
She looks up to him, and finally, he meets her eyes.
“What’s the best soup here?”
Really?
“All of them are good,” she answers, biting her tongue. She never told Rafe before about her workplace, and they had agreed on that, but she did not expect this kind of treatment once he finally found the answer.
“Is this how you treat the customers?”
What. The. Fuck.
(Y/N) bites her lips, and suppresses her groan while the other boys laugh. “We have the best mushroom soup.”
“I’ll go with the mushroom soup, please.”
(Y/N) scribbles down ‘mushfuckingroom soup for the asshole’ down, and gives out her fakest smile. “That’s it? I’ll come back shortly with your food.”
“One more thing—”
(Y/N) turns to them again, still holding onto that smile, “Yes?”
“Try to be nicer to the customers sometimes. That way, we’ll tip you bigger.”
She stalks off, not knowing that person under the same skin she caressed and kissed this morning.
. . .
Rafe bites his lips, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing the call button for the 17th time tonight.
He sighs when the operator comes on, and throws his back against the mattress again.
Okay. Maybe he was mad at that time. She never told him where she works, and he assumed her workplace to be some kind of a hipster cafe with cats for decoration. He didn’t know she would be serving in the restaurant at the country club.
He texts her again, groaning.
Pick up the phone
Helloooooooooo
?
The typing notification pops up, and he waits excitedly for her reply. After a few minutes, the notification disappear. He grunts again, and goes straight to his contacts.
He presses the phone against his ear, waiting for her voice to say something; to listen to his pleas and to come back to his arms. He misses her so much, more than anything else in the world.
“Stop calling me,” she says.
He sits up straighter, feeling his blood rushing throughout his body. “Hey, how are you?”
“How’s the mushroom soup?” She mocks, and Rafe raises his brows.
He sees it clearly now.
“Are you mad about that day in the restaurant? I wasn’t even talking shit to you like Topper—”
“Really? The whole ‘bigger tips’ thing? Was that necessary?” She asks, her voice breaking.
Oh god. “It was a joke!”
“Yeah? Congra-tu-fucking-lations, Cameron, it’s a funny one,” she says, and Rafe can hear her slowly distancing voice.
He panics, “Don’t end on me. Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that you won’t tell me where you work, and it appeared as a shock to me.”
That’s the dumbest reason (Y/N) had ever heard. She feels like laughing and crying at the same time, because this is exactly the problem;
Guys like Rafe Cameron would never want to be with a girl like (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
“Suck my dick, asshole!” she yells, and slams the phone down.
Rafe pulls the phone away, his face contorting in anger, and his shoulders slump. He should’ve known better.
It’s just that. . . he’s afraid of what the others would think of him if they knew about him dating a pogue. Ward didn’t take it well when Sarah ran off with John B, and Rafe assumes he would be feeling the same way about (Y/N).
Why does life have to be so fucking complicated all the time?
Two days after, Rafe heard about a party in The Cut, but nothing from (Y/N). He know he’s fucked up big time, and he’s content to make it right with her again.
He doesn’t like stepping his foot onto The Cut, only going to the other side of the island to meet Barry for his medical issues, and sometimes to see how Sarah is doing.
But he’s driving down to the strange place again, so determined to see his girl one more time.
The party is in an abandoned warehouse, and from the outside, Rafe can see how loud and huge the party is. He sighs, thinking about the amount of time he would be wasting to find her whilst going through the throng of bodies.
But he wants to see her and touch her more than anything.
No one seems to notice him, Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince yet, and he’s hoping to keep it that way until he can pull (Y/N) out. Not one person back in Figure 8 could know about his presence in the party, what more the reason he’s there in the first place.
It’s easy to notice her. Black top, denim shorts, and (H/C) hair flowing from her shoulders. He stalks forward, extending his hand, but stops when he notices the boy beside her.
JJ fucking Maybank.
He balls his hands into a fist, and watches the way she laughs at a joke by JJ.
He takes his phone out, dialling her number, and stares as she grabs her phone out of her pocket. (Y/N) sighs, sliding the call button to the left, and keeps it in her shorts again.
Oh.
Meet me outside
Now.
(Y/N) pulls her phone out again, contorts her face at the texts, and finally look up. Her eyes scans the whole area, trying to find a particular brunette. . .
“What’s wrong?” JJ asks, touching her forearm.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, holding a finger up, and heads straight towards the exit.
Her shoes crunches against the gravel as she tries to look for Rafe’s jeep. She stands there alone, crossing her arms, and groans when she realises that he must’ve been tricking her.
Rafe slides his arms around her. “Hey, princess.”
She yelps, pushing him off and looking straight into his eyes. She relaxes when reality hits her, but stiffen again when reality hits her again.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Her cold voice rings into his ears, but he misses her too much to care.
“C’mere,” he says, extending his hands. “Missed you.”
“Fuck off,” she announces and stalks away, only to be pulled by Rafe’s arms again. This time, she stays in his arms.
“Sorry,” he mumbles against the top of her head. “I’m sorry I was such a dick to you.”
She stays silent, trying to put up a wall between her and Rafe, but it’s near impossible. She misses him a bit too much too.
So she lets him pull her into his jeep, and whatever feud they have before dissipates into the air.
He kisses her on the lips once in the car, and when she pulls away, he groans.
“I’m not going to let you go with just a kiss after 2 weeks,” he says, inching closer to her. She gives him a sly smile, knowing exactly what he’s trying to tell her, and closes the gap.
He pulls away again after finding his hands under her top, and points to the back. She shakes her head, smiling.
“Come on, you missed me too much to say no.”
. . .
Maybe he should say something to his friends to stop them from harassing her.
But he’s glued to the spot, watching as Topper taunts her.
“You lied to me,” Topper pouts, “The Aglio Olio isn’t that good.”
She looks at Rafe, hoping, wanting, longing for him to say something. Anything.
He stays shut, scanning the menu.
“Sorry. Would you like to order anything else?” She sighs, spelling a big ‘fuck you’ on the top of her notepad.
“Do you come with the menu?”
She looks at Rafe again, waiting.
Say something. Please.
She smiles, “I do.”
Topper smiles and the other coos. (Y/N) watches as Rafe’s jaw tightens, and she goes back to her dirty work.
Two can play this game, Cameron.
“Give me your best food, babe,” Topper smiles, and shuts the menu. “Anyone else? Rafe? What do you want to eat?”
She waits. Say something about us, Rafe, please.
“Can we change for another server—” he says, and raises his hand up. “Hey, yo, you, yeah, you the manager?”
Logan gives (Y/N) a warning look before putting on a smile for Rafe, “Yes, sir, is there anything I can do?”
“Can you call someone else to take our order?”
This is way too far. He’s taking this way too far—
“Did our (Y/N) say something?” Logan asks, still smiling. She knows he’s seething inside, and she hates Rafe for putting her in this position.
“No. I just love for a better view.”
That feels like a hard smack across the face. Her throat starts burning, and she can feel her tears slowly appearing.
“That’s no problem, sir, I’ll get you another server—” Logan looks around, “Kate! Yes, c’mere.”
(Y/N) looks at Rafe again. His eyes meet hers, but there’s nothing behind his gaze.
Coward.
She reaches for the cold water on the table, her head’s so light she can literally faint, and splashes the brunette boy so quick that he stands up immediately.
“Asshole,” she states, and turns to Logan. “I fucking quit!”
. . .
Rafe Cameron is 100% an asshole.
She used to think of so many counterattacks to that statement, but there’s zero now.
She hates Rafe Cameron will all her heart, and wishes to never see him again.
He tried contacting her a few times over the week, to which she ignored heavily. She never thought he would stoop so low to preserve his title as the ‘Kook prince’.
To hell with that.
She would never treat him like that, and she’s just so clueless as to why he said all those mean words to her.
He kissed her on the lips, pulling her close. “My baby. So fucking perfect.”
(Y/N) grinded against him, hearing his soft whimpers, and laughed. She watched the clock ticking, and sighed.
“Forty minutes until I’m off to work.”
Rafe groaned, “Stop talking about work. Work with me.”
“As what, idiot?” She laughed, gazing at him lazily. “As a fuckbuddy?”
He sat up straighter, his face contorting in anger. “You are not my fuckbuddy, okay? Stop saying that. God, I will never do that you.”
She smiled, and leaned to kiss him against his chest. She trailed her lips up to his neck, and stopped right behind his ear. He shivered, biting his lips.
“And I’ll make you mind one day, (Y/N), I will,” he whispered.
Now that’s the biggest lie of the century. She gets it now;
The night dates in the most unknown places, like a fancy restaurant in a fucking town 2 islands away from Obx. Not wanting to hold hands or to be posted on her Instagram.
Why had she been so stupid?
“Fuck,” she groans, laying her back against the pillow.
Rafe Cameron is embarrassed to be seen with her. Something like that.
All the sweet things he would say to her in bed is nothing but a tactic to get into her pants. And she allowed him. God.
“You’re a stupid fuck, (Y/N),” she cries, and bites her lips. And she thought he would be the one—
Riiing! Riiing!
“Stop calling me!” She yells first thing when she picks up the phone, trying to stop her voice from cracking. Like always, she failed.
“Yo? You good?” JJ’s voice rang through the phone, a hint of worry in his voice. “I can call you another—”
“No! No, J, it’s fine, I thought you’re someone else,” she sighs. “What’s up?”
“Wanna come down to the beach with me tomorrow?”
“And do what?” She sighs. She doesn’t feel like swimming in the water, or watch JJ swim, or search for dolphins (JJ told her before that there’s dolphins in Obx), or anything, really.
She wants to sleep.
“Surfing,” he answers, like it’s a fact. “Come on, you got the whole summer to practice surfing. Let’s start with asking the hottest guy in Obx to coach you.”
(Y/N) slapped him in the face, giggling ferociously. He picked her up, twirling her around, and when she least expected it, he jumped into the water with her in his arms.
They resurfaced, still in a laughing fit.
“God, Rafe, you’re an asshole,” she laughed, pushing his chest.
“And the hottest guy in Obx.”
She bites her lips, thinking of the memory, and clears her throat. “Maybe not surfing, J, but I’ll come down anyways.”
“Okay to me,” he says, and (Y/N) can imagine a smile playing on his lips. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Night, J.”
She sighs, and shuts her phone off.
Whatever Rafe did to her disappears into thin air when she arrives at the beach and see JJ with two surfboards planted in the sand.
He grins at her when she comes close, “There you are. Thought you bailed on me.”
She rolls her eyes, “I don’t want to surf, J.”
“Since when?”
She groans, “Like. Right now.”
“Nah, come on.”
Maybe JJ’s right. She gives him a nudge every time he tries to hold her, but he’s patient. He waits until she’s more comfortable before helping her up on her board, and when she topples over from the small wave, he lets out the biggest laugh.
And she completely forgets about the fight with Rafe for the whole hour.
“God. You’re a dick.”
JJ smiles, stabilising her board again. “Try again. You can call me a dick once you will not fall over a small wave.”
And she tries again.
By the time the sun sets they were laying right next to each other, just admiring each other’s presence and not saying anything.
She likes it like this. No secrets.
“(Y/N)?”
She hums in response, leaning on her elbows for support.
“You deserve someone a lot more better than Rafe.”
“Don’t talk about him,” she sighs, and closes her eyes.
When (Y/N) told the pogues about Rafe the night after the incidence, they were all fuming with anger and hatred towards the brunette boy. But (Y/N) doesn’t have an ounce of hate in her for him, even after all the hurtful things he said to her.
What an idiot.
“I can’t watch you get hurt again,” JJ says. “I care about you.”
She looks him properly now, watching as the golden light illuminates his handsome face. “I know, J.”
They lay in silence again, staring at the blue landscape of nothingness.
“There’s someone out there who will treat you better.”
She looks at him again. No. No.
“Yeah?” She laughs, trying to give him the idea to stop right now and not make it any complicated for her. She loves him, more than anything in the world, but not in the way she feels for Rafe.
He’s her Laurie to Jo March. Nothing more but a best friend.
He scoots closer, feeling her warmth. “Yeah. Look around, (Y/N).”
She inches away, “J, I’m not looking for anyone. You know that.”
“Except for Rafe,” he mumbles. “Is that right?”
“He’s different.”
“Why, (Y/N)? He treats you like shit, is embarrassed to be seen with you—”
“Okay, J, fuck! I get it, okay? But I’m not looking for anyone. I’m just not. Leave me alone!” She groans, throwing her arms into the air exasperatedly. She doesn’t need another boy in her life right now.
JJ’s right. Except for Rafe.
“I’m leaving,” she says, grabbing her tote bag and stuffing all her belongings. “This is a mistake.”
“(Y/N), wait—” he tries to hold her, but she flinches away. He crosses his arms, “Let me drive you home at least.”
“I can walk.”
“It’s getting darker. Come on, don’t make this any harder for me.”
“A drive back home, and that’s it, J,” she warns, and sets for the black bike a distance away.
The ride towards her small home takes a few minutes on the bike, and all the time she’s sitting behind JJ with her arms placed on his shoulders for balance, they didn’t exchange any words. There’s an obvious awkward dome between the two of them.
“I’m sorry, J,” she sighs, stepping away from the bike and handing him the helmet. “I didn’t mean to lash out on you.”
He smiles grimly, not saying anything.
The engine roars back to life, and he looks at her again; standing with her hair slowly drying and her shirt still sticking to her body. He looks away.
“J?” She calls, placing her hands over his. He raises his brows at her, waiting.
She places a soft kiss against his lips, so subtle yet meaningful to him, and pulls away after a few seconds. She rubs his cheeks slowly, and gives him another kiss on the cheeks.
“Sorry, J,” she whispers.
JJ smiles softly, and runs his thumb over her cheeks.
Maybe in another lifetime.
“(Y/N)?”
Their heads turn towards the voice behind her figure, and (Y/N) swears her heart stops.
Rafe looks at her and back to JJ, his mind connecting the puzzle, and he nods.
“Wait, Rafe!”
JJ tugs on her wrist, his eyes begging. “Leave with me. Come on.”
She looks at JJ, and then back to Rafe, and she hopes for some kind of a way to get out of this. She groans, and pulls her hands away. “Go, J. I don’t need you.”
And that’s enough to hurt the blonde boy.
“Rafe!” She yells after the boy walking to his jeep, but he continues to walk, ignoring her.
She lurches forward and grab his shoulders, turning him to face her. She looks into his eyes, looking for any sign of love for her.
“Rafe, it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah? Were you trying to give him a CPR or something?”
She holds him in her hands again, “No, Rafe, I swear. I was just. . .”
But there’s no proper way to explain why she had kissed JJ. Was it because she feel bad? But why would she kissed him?
“Yeah,” he nods, prying his hands away.
A sudden wave of anger courses through her, because the boy who had hurt her did not just make this look like it’s her entire fault. She pushes him on the chest, and his back hit the car door.
“What the fuck?” He yells, glaring at her.
“So what? You’re making me look like the fucking bad guy now? After all the shit you said to me in the restaurant?
He laughs dryly, “Of course you would point this back at me. Hey, hey, look—” he cups her face, “At least I didn’t kiss anyone.”
She pushes him away, “It doesn’t mean anything! And you’re not my fucking boyfriend.”
He licks his lips, “Yeah. So let me go.”
She pulls him to her again, “Don’t fucking run away from me like this! You didn’t even apologise!”
“Because you won’t pick up my calls!” He yells back, throwing his arms into the air. “You want to fuck JJ fucking Maybank? Then go.”
“Maybe I do want to fuck JJ, Rafe, because at least he’s real. This whole thing you’re showing to people. . . that’s not you. Fuck you.”
“Yeah?” He taunts, staring at her left hand placed directly on his chest. “Then fuck him. You don’t need me.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, watching as her chest heave. “I can go to Kie too, you know, to make this even.”
“Yeah? Would you embarrass her in front of your friends too?”
He shrugs, “No.”
She grits her teeth, knowing that he’s just trying to get under her skin.
“I hate you.”
He turns her over, so she’s facing him, and inches closer to her ears. “You don’t.”
“I do.”
He laughs again, pressing himself against her, and Rafe blames the heat of North Carolina in mid July for the sudden tingling in his stomach.
“I hate that stupid smirk on your face right now, and I’ll do anything to wipe them off.”
He presses a soft kiss against her cheeks, feeling her brush against him, and let out a soft whimper. “Okay.”
After 2 weeks of not seeing her, all he wanted was to talk to her at her house, after all the calls that she didn’t pick up. But when he waited for her to come back from God knows where and saw him getting off JJ’s bike, he lets the cold side of him take over.
He lets her go, sighing. “I’ll just go. This is a waste of time. You’re clearly not thinking about me.”
(Y/N) bites her lips, because a part of her wants him to stay, and they can kiss each other again, but another part of her wants him to go and leave her alone.
“Go.”
He hesitates, and nods. The jeep speeds away, leaving (Y/N) alone in her front step, thinking about what she had just done.
She hurt JJ, who wanted nothing but the best of her, and she just lost Rafe. She’s as good as alone in this world, and she’s not sure what to do anymore. She wishes she never let her temper got ahold of her, but it’s too late.
She just wants to sleep it off right now.
-
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron imagines#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey imagines#outerbanks#outerbanks imagines#outerbanks x reader
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So. Todomatsu always ACTS like he hates that Karamatsu is so eccentric, but we all know he actually doesn't mind that much. If anyone else made fun of him for that stuff, I can't help but think he wouldn't let it fly. So what about a situation where Karamatsu gets made fun of/bullied/put down by someone OUTSIDE the family for being the way he be and Todomatsu gets an opportunity to go into full protective mode over him??
OH SHIT the youngest of them goes feral
dare I say... RELEASE THE BABY!!!!!
God I love Zaimoku, it’s so good <3
-
If Totty is being completely, utterly, unfailingly honest with himself, his brothers need his help if one of them is going to be going on a date.
Really, he’s the only one who has any clue about how to act on a date! He could hit his big brothers over the head with a Clue-by-four with that shit and they still wouldn’t really get it.
Even so… part of him thinks he shouldn’t really be following Karamatsu to a date. Karamatsu is the one Totty knows is never going to come running to him for advice or assistance, especially with girls; he’s got the undeserved ego of an avocado toast sandwich. Totty isn’t sure he’d be pleased to know his baby brother tagged along not because he has to sort out a schedule thing at work, but because he wants to keep an eye on Karamatsu.
What else is he supposed to do, though? Just let Karamatsu go alone and totally blow it? His usual behavior aside, Totty really wants his big brothers to be happy and have fulfilling relationships. He thinks if he can be there to keep an eye on things, well, maybe it won’t go so bad. Maybe Karamatsu will have a shot with this woman. Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend!
The very idea was enough to make him feel a little better about lying so that his brother will take him along. It eases his conscience, imagining that if he manages to help Karamatsu out to the point that the second eldest ends up in a loving, joyful relationship, (obviously as opposed to the past few horrible ones he’s had), then a little fib isn’t so bad, is it?
After all, if he were the one in need of something like this, he’d be grateful for his brothers’ help however they did it.
Of course, when he sees the look this girl gives Karamatsu, a look like the kind a baby gives after licking a lemon for the first time, Totty can’t help but wince. This isn’t off to a great start. He lingers by the counter, greeting Sacchi and Aida, trying not to look as if he’s watching his big brother’s date.
“Aren’t you off today, Totty?” Sacchi hums as she turns to start making a drink.
He nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t stay away, I guess, haha.”
Aida jerks her head toward the table where Karamatsu and his date are. “That’s one of your brothers, right? Still as painful as ever,” she teases. “Is he… oh, my God, he’s on a date??”
“Shhhh, shh!” Totty waves his hands a little, hoping to get his friends to quiet down a little. The last thing Karamatsu needs is to be drawing attention. “He thinks I tagged along to talk to you guys about my schedule. But, yes, he’s here on a date.”
Sacchi finishes serving her customer, one of the few in the shop at the moment, and then leans against the counter to look over. “Aw, good for him. He’s not either of our types, but he deserves a shot with someone who’s interested.”
He lets out a soft sigh. “Agreed there. I kind of just wanna keep an eye on him, you know? To make sure he doesn’t mess it up too much. He should have let me pick his outfit, ugh… that aside, he’s doing okay so far, though, I think.”
Aida frowns as she slides a cup of coffee toward her coworker. “Um, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s got his work cut out for him. I’ve been to some mixers with that girl, and she always finds something wrong with every guy she hangs out with.”
“She’s right,” Sacchi adds. “Good thing you came along so you can carry him home, ‘cause that girl’s gonna tear him to pieces. I mean, she went out with Atsushi and the next day he was in here crying and telling me she made him feel two inches tall. Nobody’s good enough for her.”
Aida clicks her tongue. “Your big brother’s in big trouble, Totty.”
It’s Totty’s turn to frown as he looks toward Karamatsu. Unfortunately, Sutabaa is so small and he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to strain too much to hear what’s being said.
The woman is laughing. However… Karamatsu hasn’t even really opened his mouth yet. “Oh, my God! You’re my date, huh? Last time I let my sister set me up. That bitch, haha. Ah, well… wow, your jacket is hurting my eyes. Could you take it off?”
Karamatsu seems to be trying his best to smile. “O-oh, yes, of course.” He moves to tug it off, folding it over the back of his chair. “Please forgive me. Anyway, my name is Karamatsu. And you, my angel?”
“Ahaha, WHAT?” The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “C’mon, dude. Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s angel.”
Totty feels himself starting to steam. You’ve got that right.
“A-ah… right, my apologies.” Karamatsu just keeps smiling. The expression on his face reads almost like he’s in pain. “Well, should we order?”
She gives a cursory glance toward the menu, then suddenly her eyes are drawn to Karamatsu again. “Oh, my God, hold on… is… is that your face on your shirt?! Holy shit! Are you really that full of yourself?”
Totty’s heart sinks as his brother’s cheeks flush bright red. This is not going well. And while, yes, Karamatsu probably should have picked a different shirt, what’s really wrong with what he’s wearing? Even though he’s a little over-the-top and dramatic, this woman can’t know whether or not he’s ‘full of himself’ when she’s barely letting him get a word in.
Totty is the most socially intelligent of his brothers, and even he doesn’t think Karamatsu’s actually doing anything wrong. He hasn’t drawn anyone else’s attention like he usually does, he hasn’t gone overboard with any poses, and he’s… kind of just being himself, slightly toned down. It’s not like he’s bragging or being a jerk. Hell, it’s just a strange fashion choice; how the hell does she think it has any bearing on what he’s like as a person?
“Damn,” Sacchi cringes. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”
Aida gives a pout toward her friends. “He didn’t even do anything wrong yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
“Yeah, he’s just a little odd and, like, a tiny bit painful. But he’s acting really nice and polite.” Sacchi sighs as she props her head up on her hand. “There’s no pleasing some people. Aida, why don’t you go take their order? Maybe you can accidentally spill it on that pretentious top of hers when you bring it to them.”
“Pfff, if only. I’m on it, though.”
Totty continues to fume as he watches his poor brother try to impress this girl, pretty much in vain. He gets the feeling that nothing Karamatsu says or does is going to be good enough. For some reason, that really pisses him off. Despite the fact that Karamatsu can be a bit much, that he’s overcompensating for being insecure on the inside, that everyone rolls their eyes at him… Karamatsu isn’t a bad guy. He tries hard to make other people happy and treats them with respect. Even his brothers who don’t always return the favor.
By the point Sacchi and Aida are finished making their order, the youngest is ready to explode at this woman. She never even told Karamatsu her name, but she’s spent the whole time talking him down. When she asked what he did ‘besides be super excruciating’, and he told her he didn’t really have a job, she laughed at him. He tried to save it by saying he occasionally played guitar at coffee shops, and she responded something along the lines of, “What kind of hipster loser does that these days??”
Listening to it just makes him so angry. She doesn’t think Karamatsu is attractive, she’s called him embarrassing more than once, and no matter what he does or says, she’s not happy with it. Why the fuck did she even bother going out with him, then?
Totty was worried that Karamatsu was going to screw this up; so far he’s actually managed to be a decent date. He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s date to be the shitty one.
Sacchi brings him a simple iced coffee while Aida returns with the serving tray, a fake smile on her face from laughing uncomfortably at one of the woman’s comments. “God, she’s exhausting.”
“I don’t even know her and I can’t stand her,” Totty mutterrs before taking a sip of his drink. “Why the hell is she treating him like that? He’s just… being himself!”
Being himself. Karamatsu’s really not doing anything wrong. He’s trying to talk himself up when this woman gives him a chance to, but who doesn’t talk themself up on a first date? He just wants to impress her.
It makes Totty feel a little guilty to realize that, honestly, all Karamatsu really wants is to impress everyone because he wants people to like him… including his brothers. If Karamatsu feels the need to seek love and acceptance from strangers like this girl, to the point that he’s willing to put up with the horrible way she’s treating him, what does that say about his brothers? It’s not the first time he’s sucked it up and dealt with something he shouldn’t have from someone just because he wants that person to love him.
His attention is drawn by the woman giggling a little too loudly. “Fuck, you wanna go out with me again? I mean, how do you think this is going? I’m two seconds away from sneaking out the bathroom window. You’re so obnoxious, you dress like an edgy middle schooler, and who wears sunglasses inside, especially when it’s raining outside? You’re, like, cringe incarnate.”
Completely contradicting every statement she made, she slid her hand across the table to take his, if only for a brief moment. The wicked look in her eyes, more sadistic than even Ichimatsu, made Totty’s stomach twist in anger. “I might keep you around, though. You seem like a guy who’d keep me laughing for a while. Maybe next time I’ll take you out with my friends so everyone can laugh at you.”
Oh, that’s it.
He doesn’t know if Karamatsu is oblivious to what she means because he’s blinded and deafened by the promise of another date, or if he knows exactly what she means but perhaps thinks it’s worth it. His eyes light up… and behind that hopeful spark is the pain she’s already put him through.
Baby of the bunch though he is, Totty isn’t going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs while some bitch takes advantage of his big brother.
“Oh, that is sooooo not happening!” he calls as he approaches the table. Although he feels a little bad about just stepping in like this, he’s not gonna let her get away with treating Karamatsu like that. Laughing at him herself was bad enough; parading him in front of her friends for all of them to laugh at him when there’s nothing wrong with Karamatsu isn’t gonna happen if Totty has something to say about it.
The woman gives him an unimpressed look. “Who the fuck are you?”
“T-Totty!!” Karamatsu, on the other hand, looks immediately panicked. “I can handle this… please, go back and fix your schedule, and I’ll meet you at home.”
“Wait, you work here?” She tilts her head at him. “Oh, shit, hold up. You’re the asshole who messed up my drink last time I was here.” Her gaze flits between the two of them, and she laughs again.
“― Oh, my God! You had to bring your twin brother along to come on a date? You’re pathetic!” Her hand pulls away from Karamatsu’s. “Oh, you’re definitely coming out with me and my friends.”
Totty hisses and pushes her hand away from Karamatsu’s. He steps in front of his big brother to physically block this woman from him. “Keep your hands off him! You’re not taking him anywhere. He’s never seeing you again, because you treated him like… like, fuck, I wouldn’t treat a rock the way you treated him!”
He hears Karamatsu make a noise of almost-protest behind him; he can just imagine the other man sinking down in his seat and trying to hide his face. “Totty, please…”
“No! No, she doesn’t get to just treat you like dirt, Karamatsu-nii-san! You think my brother’s just some kind of dumbass you can show off to your friends and laugh at and treat him like crap?!” he snarls. “Well, guess what? He may be sort of a dumbass sometimes, and maybe he’s a little painful, and maybe he’s not the perfect guy you’re looking for! But he’s a whole hell of a better person than you are!”
Although Totty could kick himself for not saying anything to Karamatsu before, it might be best it’s coming out now. He doesn’t have a lot of time to really think about it or pretend or rehearse. What he’s saying isn’t practiced, it’s real. “Karamatsu is the kindest person I know, and you wish you had at least half the passion he does for the things he likes! Who cares that he wears a shirt with his own face on it? He was bending over backwards to make you happy, even though everything out of your mouth was word barf about how embarrassing he is! And, by the way, you’re wrong!”
It only takes half a step for him to reach over to grab his coffee from the counter, assisted by Aida who’s smirking as she holds it out for him. “If my choice was between you or him, I’d be way less embarrassed to be seen in public with him than with you! He’s not perfect, but he cares about people, and he’s always there when you need him, and ― and all this stuff you think is embarrassing, who the hell gives a shit?! It’s what he wants to do and it’s not hurting anyone! I’d break my phone before I let my big brother go out with someone like you again! Maybe he keeps striking out with dates, but he’s never going to be that desperate!”
He feels a little bad about what he’s about to do. That feeling is mitigated by the fact that at least his coffee isn’t hot.
“And, you know, I actually am sorry about messing up your drink last time. So here, you can have mine!” Almost before he’s finished speaking, he’s dumped his entire cup over her head.
He doesn’t stick around to deal with the aftermath aside from seeing the look of abject horror on the woman’s face as the coffee makes her bad mascara drip. And even though there’s a little bit of guilt over the fact that he’s leaving his coworkers to deal with her, the fact that Sacchi and Aida are cackling while they gather up napkins eases his mind.
He grabs Karamatsu by the hand and leads him out, tossing his coffee cup on the way. There’s not much choice on Karamatsu’s part, except he doesn’t particularly look as if he minds that.
“You didn’t… have to do that, Totty,” Karamatsu mumbles. When Totty glances over, the second eldest looks more tired than anything. He knows that look; the exhaustion of something not working out, of thinking you had a chance only for it to all go up in smoke.
Totty huffs, marching the two of them in the direction that leads back home. “Of course I did! You weren’t going to do it, so someone had to. God… you’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Karamatsu-nii-chan.”
The shift to the more affectionate honorific suggests to Karamatsu that this is really, truly something Totty cares about. He squeezes his baby brother’s hand with a thoughtful hum. “… If that’s the case, perhaps a romance for me just isn’t in the cards. I… really thought it was going to go somewhere this time.”
At last Totty slows slightly, from an aggressive pace to something a little calmer. He’s still pissed off that someone treated Karamatsu like that, and although he’s a bit upset that Karamatsu sit there and let it happen, he knows what it’s like to want people to like you so much that you’ll put up with nearly anything.
However, that’s also the reason he doesn’t want Karamatsu just putting up with it. He deserves so much better than to have people treat him like dirt. It’s not right to do that to anybody, but… especially not to Totty’s big brother.
“I’m sorry I kind of… tapped into Murder Totty in there,” he sighs. “Did I go overboard?”
Karamatsu shrugs. “Maybe a little. But I wasn’t truly enjoying myself and I didn’t want to go on another date with her. I just… didn’t know how to tell her no. I suppose I really am lucky you were there, too.”
Silence falls between them while they walk, then after a moment, Karamatsu clears his throat. “Totty… did you… mean all those things?”
“Huh? All what things?”
“Those things, you know… you said I was… kind and passionate and reliable.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You… you said you’d rather break your phone than let me go out with her again.”
… Oh. He. Did say that, didn’t he?
He pouts a bit, then squeezes Karamatsu’s hand. “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I meant it.”
Beat.
“But as much as I love you, I’m just glad I don’t have to do that.”
#Osomatsu san#whump#Zaimokumatsu#Karamatsu#Totty#emotional whump#TOTTY TO THE RESCUE!!!!#don't you dare fuck with any of his big brothers ESPECIALLY the most vulnerable of his big brothers#RELEASE THE BABY!!!
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You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 6
Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook
Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.
Your new desk mate brings his brothers to school and introduces them to you. All they wanted to do was introduce themselves to you but maybe they came off too strong and it might have backfired.
((Their stage names and real names are used interchangeably here. Hope it isn’t too confusing!))
V entered class, ignoring all the girls that were fawning over him in the hallway. Mortal women were so easily drawn by looks that it annoyed him. When his eyes fell on you, his desk mate, a smile appeared on his face.
“Good morning!” He greeted with his boxy smile as he sat down, making the other girls scoff in jealousy.
“Hey.” You straightened up.
“How was your weekend?” He asked and your mood darkened at the memory of the wolves leaving. V noticed this and mentally scolded himself for asking you when he already knew what happened.
“Didn’t do much. What about you?” You lied with a forced smile.
“Oh, my brothers and I finalised the move into our permanent house so it’s just been moving around and unpacking all the boxes to settle in. It has been really tiring but we’re always excited to move into a new place.” V rambled and you nodded your head with a congratulatory smile.
Having a good look at V’s face, you noticed something that was never really apparent to you until you realised it.
V was one of the boys in the dream you had about the wolves as humans. He was the human version of Taehyung. You have officially gone insane, how could you have dreamt of your friend as your wolf?
“Well, V, are your brothers attending school too?” You changed the subject.
“Yeah. I’m usually the scout first, which is why I came alone. But now that we’ve officially moved in, they’re coming today.” V explained.
“Class, we have some new students.” You didn’t even notice that the teacher had come in. You turned to face the front and your eyes widened, your jaw dropping slightly.
It was them, the 6 other boys from your dream. How could it be? You were in disbelief, you were sure you have never seen them before in real life and yet, they were here, standing in front of you as real humans. In your dream, they were just the human versions of your wolves. To be sure you weren’t dreaming, you blinked and rubbed your eyes.
“I’m RM.”
“Suga.”
“I’m J-Hope!”
“Hello, I’m Seokjin.”
“Jimin.”
“Jungkook.”
You let out a sigh of relief when they mostly had different names. Obviously, it wasn’t their real name like how V’s name is definitely a fake name. You subtly side eyed V, who gave the boys a little wave. They were his brothers.
“Are they your brothers?” You whispered.
“Mhmm.” He hummed.
“(y/n).” Their vision all zeroed in on you but you were too busy mentally freaking out to notice. The teacher assigned them their seats. Two were in front of you and V, two were beside V and the last two were diagonally in front. It was like you were literally backed into a corner.
The pale boy in front of you, that was Yoongi. The white wolf. And the one next to him was Jimin, the boys who complained about bland chicken.
“Sorry.” You frowned and stood up, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. As you closed your eyes and leaned against the stall door. Why was your heart suddenly racing?
“Did we scare her? She looked so overwhelmed.” Jungkook thought. Maybe the boys all coming at once was too much.
“Poor (y/n). She looked scared too.” Jimin whimpered.
“Let’s just take it slow, don’t come on too strong or force her to do anything. It’s probably because she remembered our faces from her dreams.” Namjoon said and the rest nodded.
You managed to calm yourself down in the bathroom for a few minutes and come back to class. You sat down with a slightly bow of your head and tried to ignore the boys that were sitting around you as you paid attention to the teacher, taking notes down. V side eyed you and smiled softly to himself. You were just so special.
When lunch came around, you grabbed your bag and got ready to leave class with V trailing behind you.
“Umm... Why don’t you join your brothers? It wouldn’t be nice to leave them on their first day.” You told V, fiddling with the strap of your bag. V felt hurt as he gave you a crestfallen look.
“We don’t mind joining you, if that’s okay with you of course.” RM slung his arm around V’s shoulders. You bit your bottom lip.
“You guys should see the school and mingle with other students... I’ll see you after lunch.” You quickly excused at the end and sped walked away.
“(y/n)! Wait.” V whimpered.
“She eats alone?” Yoongi asked. V nodded. Well, you haven’t really been eating alone. V has been joining you every day ever since he came to the school.
“Should we find her?” Hoseok suggested.
“No, let’s just let her have her space. We may scare her off.” Jin said and they walked the other way.
You let out a sigh and sat down. You felt bad for turning them away when they were trying to be nice to you but you were used to being alone and the 7 of them altogether was just too overwhelming. For some reason, you just couldn’t get rid of the image of V’s crestfallen expression from your head.
“Maybe this is why you don’t have friends.” You scolded yourself. It felt quiet without V and his random conversations. You have grown used to it after he had been eating with you.
After school, you were able to go home before work started. You had gotten a new, better paying job as a barista at local, hipster cafe.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Coming!” You were just about to leave the house.
“Hello- Oh! V?” You nearly jumped back when you saw V and one of his brothers, Jimin, standing at your door step. You weren’t expecting to see them here.
“(y/n)?! You’re our new neighbour?!” V gasped. That’s when you remembered that you saw moving trucks the other day. Were V and his brothers your new neighbours? That was almost too coincidental but you were kind of glad that they were at least your age and people you kind of knew. You gave a small smile and nodded.
“We actually came over to ask if our new neighbour would like to come over for dinner. We didn’t know it was going to be you.” Jimin laughed.
“Right... I’m actually working though. Got a new job.” You said, more to Taehyung. Taehyung knew you worked at a barbecue restaurant, you had told him during one of your lunch talks.
“You got a new job? Congratulations!” V suddenly pulled you in for a hug, making you choke.
“T-Thanks.” You blushed.
“When’s your next day off? We would love to have to you over, we can celebrate you getting a new job too!” V exclaimed excitedly and his brother nodded in agreement. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ah, there’s no need for that. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. You saw the sad looks they gave you and felt bad. You were rejecting them twice in a day and you knew that wasn’t very nice of you when they were trying to be friendly.
“My next off day is on Friday.” You said softly.
“Alright! We’ll see you Friday! Have a great day and all the best for your new job!” Taehyung clapped.
“Thank you.” You smiled and they ran off. You chuckled and shook your head. They were so full of energy that the two together reminded you of Jimin and Taehyung. You went to the bus stop to take the bus into town.
“She’s coming on Friday!” The two wolves entered the house.
“She actually agreed?” Yoongi asked.
“You should know that no one can resist our charms.” The two scoffed, making the other wolves give them disgusted looks. But nonetheless, they were excited for you to come over. That was a step in the right direction. Jin and Yoongi, the chefs of the pack, had to decide what to cook for the Friday dinner and go grocery shopping the day before.
“She got a new job too, today is her first day. We caught her just as she was leaving. She seemed excited for it.” Jimin informed.
“That’s good. She really didn’t like working at the barbecue place. The working hours were not flexible and the pay wasn’t even that good.” Namjoon shook his head. They all know how tired you are when you return home from work.
“What did you all think of human school?” Taehyung asked.
“Boring. And human girls are weird. They fall so easily for looks.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Except (y/n).” Hoseok laughed.
“That’s what makes her perfect.” Jin grinned and the rest agreed. You were probably the only one that wasn’t head over heels for them just because they were good looking. You looked at them as normal people.
“Well, it is an adjustment but we’re all there for one reason only. To be close to her.” Namjoon said.
“I’m going for my run.” Jungkook stood up. Namjoon, Taehyung and Hoseok decided to join him. They all turned into their wolves and ran off into the forest. When the wolves do their daily run, they usually patrol as well to make sure that there hasn’t been any intruders on their land.
“Smell that?” Jungkook looked up. The other 3 followed along, sniffing the area’s ground. There was an unknown scent, another wolf had come onto their territory.
“The scent is quite faint. He probably passed this place a few hours ago.” Hoseok noted.
“Either he passed by or he’s still here.” Namjoon looked around.
“(y/n)’s house isn’t too far from here. Shall we start a patrol shift? In case the intruder comes for her?” Taehyung asked.
“No. This is the first time we caught such a scent so we don’t know for sure why this rogue came. We’ll wait and come again tomorrow. If the scent is still here or in other areas, especially closer to her house, then we’ll start a patrol shift. I don’t want you guys or the others to be too alarmed over this.” Namjoon ordered.
“Hopefully it’s just a passing rogue then.” Jungkook continued walking. Once they did a full scout, they went back home.
“How was it?” Jin asked the group that walked in.
“We found possible traces of a rogue. We’ll go out and scout again tomorrow to determine if he’s a passer or intruder.” Hoseok explained and Jin nodded his head. The 4 boys ran to their rooms.
“A rogue?” Yoongi came out.
“I hope he isn’t trouble.” Jimin frowned, crossing his arms.
“Well, he won’t make it far if he decides to challenge the 7 princes in their own territory.” Yoongi scoffed, heading to the kitchen.
“Namjoon’s right, we shouldn’t worry about it. It could just be a passer. Now come on, let’s start on dinner.” Jin wrapped his arm around Jimin’s shoulders and walked to the kitchen to join Yoongi in cooking. Yoongi cooked a big pan of kimchi fried rice while Jimin helped Jin with making some stir fried marinated beef to have on the side.
“Dinner!” Jin called and the others came down, fresh out of the shower. They sat down and began to eat.
It was late and everyone had gone to bed but Yoongi stood in the back porch, alone in the dark. He held a glass of whiskey, sipping it lightly. It wasn’t like himself to be feeling such strong emotions. He wanted to see you.
He missed you.
He wasn’t one that openly displayed affection but he still adored the way you would try to get his attention by disturbing him with hugs. Though, he wouldn’t really consider them disturbances.
“Hyung?” Jimin was coming down fro a glass of water when he saw Yoongi turn and run off into the forest.
Yoongi ran until he appeared outside your cabin but he kept his distance. He panted as he stood behind a tree. You had already come back from work and he could see you walk past the window occasionally, dancing and singing to yourself. He couldn’t help but smile at your goofiness.
When he focused again, he met eyes with you. You were standing at the window, staring at him. Did you see him?
“Yoongi?” You whispered, seeing a small hint of white. No doubt, it was pure white, as white as the moon, almost shimmering. You knew only one wolf had that coat.
The pair of eyes stared back at you and your heart pounded against your chest as you ran out but the creature ran away as quickly as you came out.
“Yoongi!” You called but there was no reply. Maybe your eyes were really playing a trick on you.
The night wind made you shiver, reminding you that you were standing outside in the dead of night, just in your pyjamas. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you headed back inside. As the door shut, Yoongi stepped back out from the shadows. He scolded himself for being careless. As one of the oldest of the pack and an alpha, he should not be reckless.
“Hyung... Did you see her?” Jimin asked.
“I’m going to walk. Go back to sleep.” Yoongi shut the younger off and headed to the lake. He stood by the edge, keeping his paws a safe distance from the water since he wasn’t a fan of the water.
Closing his eyes, he howled into the night.
Your eyes opened at the howl that sounded through the night. Your heart warmed at the thought that it was one of the wolves. They were still here.
-
You hummed as you listened to your music while heading down to the bus stop. When you looked up, you stopped when you saw 7 of your new classmates there. Right, you forgot that they were also your new neighbours. Clearing your throat, you stepped closer and bowed your head.
“She’s here!” They all thought excitedly. Having lived with you, they knew what time you took the bus every morning so they deliberately planned to be there at the same time as you.
“So, how was your new job last night?” V started a conversation first, making the others eye him in jealousy.
“Good. I like it.” You nodded your head as you took out of your earpiece.
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re enjoying it more than that old barbecue place, huh? So what’s your new job having you do?” V chuckled and you couldn’t help but give him a small smile.
“It’s definitely a lot better. Pay is better too. I’m a barista at a cafe. It’s a lot more chill and just overall, a much better job.” You explained.
“She’s really so awesome. It amazes me how carries her conversations so well.” RM melted.
“Uhh... So... Listen, I want to apologise to all of you for my behaviour in school yesterday. It was uncalled for and I let my anxiety get the best of me. You guys are new around here and you were just trying to be nice. I’m just not used to having so many people talking to me at once.” You chuckled nervously as you rubbed the back of your neck.
“She’s so adorable.” They all thought in unison.
“No, don’t apologise. It was our fault for getting too excited, not yours. We should have never overwhelmed you like that by coming at you all at once. You have every right to act the way you did.” Seokjin smiled.
“Yeah! We were just excited to make friends after V told us about you.” J-Hope grinned. V talks about you?
“F-Friends?” You stuttered.
“Yeah!”
“You wanna be friends with me?” You blinked and pointed to yourself. They all nodded their heads and you felt your cheeks heat up. You smiled softly, they reminded you of your wolves.
“O-Okay.” You said shyly. Taehyung and Jimin excitedly pulled you into a hug and you choked. Yoongi and Namjoon grabbed the backs of their collars to separate them from you. Luckily, the bus came and all of you boarded together. There was one seat left and you were going to stand but Yoongi moved you to sit down.
“Sit.” He said, looking away. You nodded your head wordlessly as he stood over you.
As the bus ride progressed, you tried to focus on something other than the pale boy that stood over you. When you saw an old lady board the bus though, you stood up, almost knocking him over in the shaky bus.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Ahjumma, sit here.” You waved to the old lady with a smile. You held her hand to help her shuffle over and sit down. The old lady sent you a grateful smile to which you smiled back and bowed your head respectfully. Yoongi looked at you in adoration.
“Her heart is forever so big.” He sighed.
“Be careful.” Jungkook held your arm. You nodded your head and stood between him and Taehyung to steady yourself. Once the bus stopped, you all got off.
“You guys shouldn’t walk in with me.” You stepped aside from them, already seeing some students staring and pointing at you.
“Why?” Hoseok asked.
“I’m not exactly the most popular in school. It won’t be good for you guys if you hang out with me. You’ll become outcasts.” You lowered your head. Hands placed themselves on your shoulders and you looked up to see Taehyung.
“We don’t care. You’re our friend now and we don’t ever leave our friends alone. They wanna be salty over it, let them. We’re sticking by you, no matter what.” He said reassuringly and you looked to the others, who nodded in agreement. Jungkook slung his arm around you and you all headed into school. As predicted, everyone was pointing and talking about you.
“What are they doing with her?”
“She’s a loser.”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to ignore their comments like you always do. You headed to your locker to exchange your books. Unfortunately, your locker wasn’t beside the boys.
“So, what spell did you cast on them?” Kira leaned against the other lockers. You gave her a weird look but continued your business.
“I was talking to you.” She slammed your locker door close, making you jump back in shock.
“Is something wrong here?” You felt the presence of all 7 boys behind you. Kira stepped back in slight fear. She shot you a glare and flipped her hair before she scurried away with her friends. You sighed.
“Let’s go to class.” You said and started walking with them. They took their seats while you slid into your chair beside Taehyung.
The boys were all afraid you would be upset after that confrontation with Kira but you were as cool as a cucumber. You unpacked your bag, taking your necessary study materials out as if nothing happened. Honestly, you were just so used to it that you didn’t care.
“(y/n), are you okay?” Taehyung asked cautiously.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You turned to him in confusion, tilting your head.
“Just leave it, Tae.” Jin said.
“I agree. If she says that she is fine, let’s leave it. We don’t give her enough credit, she’s a lot stronger than what she lets on.” Namjoon told them. Yes, they all definitely agreed with their leader on that.
~~
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hello dear librarian! again, thank you for your amazing work, you're incredible and I am deeply glad you exist. your recs make my days better. now on to the actual question: I don't know if you've already done a similar list or answered the same ask but did you happen to know fics in which Remus is in the asexual spectrum? preferably some fluffy and soft ones, since I'm in need of seeing my comfort character (and personality twin tbh) being a happy boy. thank you so much!
Hello dear friend! Thank you so much for the kind words, and know that they are cherished. Below are some recs of asexual/demisexual Remus picked just for you. The Librarian tried to pick ones that were softer, but still check the tags before reading just in case.
Also linked is a previous list of Asexual Sirius in case anyone wants more ace rep! 🖤🤍💜
Asexual Sirius
Asexual Remus
Forever -orphaned account
Sirius Black--CoDA, outcast, family disappointment, and fairly famous YouTuber who runs a sign language channel SiriuslySigns with his best mate, James. Remus Lupin-- vegan hipster who dropped out of University and lives with his best mate Peter, and together run HowlingMoon's DIY, barmy science experiments, and ukulele tutorials channel. When Sirius becomes enamoured with Moony's singing, he dedicates a sign tutorial in hopes he'll be noticed. This leads to exchanging of shout-outs and videos, and what Sirius hopes, is a little something more.
Of Barnacles and Mermen [+Podfic and Fanart/Coloring Pages] by @xinasvoice
A deserted island is the perfect new home for a werewolf who is sick of chains, cells, Ministry regulations, and—to be perfectly honest—humans in general. Only, Remus hadn’t realized that, while the island itself may be deserted, the reef surrounding it is home to an unusually beautiful and territorial merman.
O no I hope I don't fall by EverythingButColdFire
Remus and Sirius are roommates in their late twenties. They’re on a weekend trip to see a T. Rex cover band and to rent a boat for shiggles. This is inspired by that tiktok where that lady drunkenly falls off a boat.
Feel Something by @lovingremus
Remus has never really grasped how some people feel very neutral about kissing. It had never been like him to snog random people at parties. Sirius, on the other hand, happens to be a prime example of that person.
Cue Love, Go by @looney-lupin
When Remus decides to assistant stage manage the show "The Importance of Being Earnest", he never thought he would end up falling for the supposedly egotistical actor, Sirius Black.
Go Leor by Chromat1cs
Remus Lupin is not driven by much of what drives his peers. Thus when he finds himself alone, he must look inward and pick at the threads gnarling him up before he tangles himself too tightly to breathe.
Worth the Itch by NachoDiablo
Sirius is smitten with the adorable curly-haired boy who stops by their booth at the farmer's market every week.
See But One Moon -orphaned account
Sirius Black has been pining for the nerdy Barista, Remus Lupin, for three months, but can't seem to get his attention. Remus, however, has noticed the over-excited law student, but isn't interested in being a conquest of the week. When Remus starts listening to the Marauding Hour--a University radio programme, he finds himself enraptured by one of the DJs, and starts to crush on him--hard. Little does he know that Padfoot has known him all along, and is looking for something much more than a one-off.
Like Us As We Are -orphaned account
When Lily drags Sirius to a Werewolf Rights rally, Sirius isn't sure what to expect. He certainly doesn't expect to fall for the head speaker with the adorable dimples and impossible curls. But who could ignore that passion? Certainly not Sirius Black.
Miles To Go Before I Sleep -orphaned account
Working the front door at a posh block of flats, Remus Lupin spends their nights watching the door, and occasionally taking a sleep-walking Sirius Black back to the arms of his flatmate. Pining quietly, everything changes for Remus one night when Sirius' sleep-walking leads to comfort and emotional revelations.
Share this post with your own recs so readers can find more fics!
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but at the cost I payed, I'm pretty sure I got screwed
buck wasn't exactly sure how to process the fact he'd been lied to, his entire life - that his parents had forced maddie to keep such a fundamental part of his past, his life, from him. but - at least he wasn't alone.
or - eight conversations between buck and his true family as he comes to terms with the existence of the brother he never knew he had. set post 4x04
ao3 link
i. albert
Buck had forgotten that Albert would be home, when he managed to stumble through his own front door – breath catching in his chest as he tried to process the bombshell Maddie had just dropped on his life. Maybe – maybe it was rude of him, cruel to forget that he shared his apartment with the younger man, that Albert lived on his couch, but Buck had forgotten, and how he wasn’t sure of a kind way to tell Albert that if he had to have a conversation with another human being, there and then, that he would scream.
And he might not be able to stop screaming.
Albert was looking at him with genuine concern written all over his face, sliding the pan he was using to cook off the hob, so it wouldn’t burn. “Are you okay, Buck?” he asked, and Buck knew he could talk to Albert, and he would try to understand; burdened by his own family issues in ways that would make it easier to admit the insanity of the Buckley family aloud.
But Buck couldn’t.
“That’s kind of a loaded question, Albert,” Buck managed to choke the words out, anxiety clawing at his chest.
Albert inclined his head slightly. “Okay,” he conceded. “Are you well enough to be here, alone – or as alone as you can be with me, here,” he grinned slightly at his own words. “Or do you need me to call someone?”
“I don’t think I know,” Buck admitted, forcing himself to sit at the kitchen table, his blood thundering in his ears as he tried to process everything.
He had a brother. He has a brother – even if that brother wasn’t alive, anymore. Buck had a brother – he wasn’t the only Buckley boy, like he’d believed for so much of his life. For twenty-nine years, he’d thought Maddie was his only sibling, but she wasn’t, and Buck’s entire world felt like it had been spun on its axis and nothing made sense, anymore; but somehow everything made more sense than it ever had before, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that.
Albert pushed a glass of water toward him, a kind look on his face.
“I don’t think I can talk about it, yet,” Buck admitted, the cool condensation dripping down the side of the glass – a housewarming gift from Hen and Karen, glasses nicer than he’d ever buy himself, if he was being honest – grounding in the way it reminded Buck that he wasn’t dreaming, the glass wet to touch.
“That’s okay,” Albert shrugged. “I can talk, instead, if you want.”
Buck could have cried, with relief. “Yeah, that would be great, Albert.”
Albert grinned. “Okay,” he nodded, moving his pan back onto the hob. “So – I had an online class, today, and one of my classmates, they were clearly not paying attention, but as it turns out, they had taken a series of photos of themselves, and were playing it as a video……..”
Buck forced himself to focus on Albert’s words, his roommate talking about the perfectly mundane happenings of his day, how his online classes went, how their neighbour down the hall still firmly believed he and Buck were a couple, and how its quite sweet, really, because she’s trying her hardest to make sure that they know she accepts them, and she’ll be dropping by a loaf of banana bread, in the morning.
It wasn’t until Albert set a bowl down in front of Buck, a simple pasta dish that made Buck’s stomach growl in acknowledgement of how hungry he was, that Buck spoke, looking at his roommate – his friend – with watery eyes.
“Thank you,” Buck managed to sputter out.
Albert shrugged. “You need to eat,” he said, pushing a fork toward Buck. “My grandmother – she always said that the problems of the world looked a little less daunting, when you looked at them with a full stomach.”
“I don’t just mean for the food,” Buck croaked, though he was grateful for the food – because he wasn’t sure if he had the mental energy to try and make himself dinner, to remember how to cook any of the ingredients that sat in his well-stocked kitchen. “I mean – for taking me out of my head, for a minute.”
Albert smiled, in that endearingly sincere way he always did, Chimney’s brother always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “What are roommates for?”
ii. bobby
It’s not as though Buck particularly wanted to tell Bobby, about what was going on – but after the incident at the fire, after the way Buck had been acting, he knew he had to, he knew that he had to admit to his boss what was happening. He’d been insufferable to work with, Buck knew, and his boss was owed an explanation.
What Buck hadn’t expected was Bobby’s reaction. It wasn’t – it wasn’t the reaction of a Captain, a professional acknowledgement of a personal trauma that Buck wasn’t able to compartmentalise and leave at home, like he was supposed to, it was the reaction of a friend, Bobby pulling Buck in for a determined, bone-crushing hug.
“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was calm, against the sea of static that was buzzing in Buck’s head, something Buck could cling to as he stood, still as a statue, in Bobby’s embrace.
“You didn’t do anything,” Buck found himself saying, confused.
Bobby pulled back, hands on Buck’s shoulders. “I can be sorry, even if I didn’t have a role to play in this,” he said. “Buck, I’m sorry for you as your friend – what your parents hid from you, it was cruel. You didn’t deserve to be lied to like that.”
Buck swallowed his tears, focusing his gaze on one of the photos hanging on the back wall of Bobby’s office. “Their kid died,” he said, voice robotic as he voiced the sentence he’d practiced over, and over. “I can’t blame them.”
“Yes, you can,” Bobby’s voice was fierce. “Buck – I had to bury my own children. That is a pain I will never forget, and one I will live with for the rest of my life. I can’t even begin to describe to you what that grief, the grief of losing a child, feels like, and I hope you never, ever understand it,” he said. “But I have never put the burden of that grief on May, or Harry. Your parents had no right to force you, and Maddie, to bear their grief in the way they did. It was wrong. It is wrong.”
Buck hated how easily he was crying – how easily he’d always been reduced to tears, too soft, too emotional, not enough of a tough guy to please his father. “It was?” his voice was tiny as he spoke, unsure if he could take Bobby’s words at face value. Was Bobby saying that just to placate him? To make it so he could suck it up, and work?
“Yes, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was firm. “It was wrong – and no one in this team is going to begrudge you the time you need to process this. We’re your family, and we’re here for you. Okay? I’m here for you Buck, whatever you need.”
Buck hadn’t been hugged a lot, as a kid – not by his parents, at least. That was a pitifully sad thing to admit, but it was the truth – for all the ways Maddie had been kind, and affectionate, pressing kisses to Buck’s curls and hugging him close, his parents had been cold, and physically distant, never giving Buck more than a pat on the shoulder.
He knew why, now. They looked at him and all they saw was Daniel – all they ever saw was the son who would forever be twelve, frozen in time. They had watched him grow up, and maybe he was tolerable, when he was younger, when he was going through all the same phases that Daniel had – but as soon as Buck had turned thirteen, and lived longer than the brother he didn’t know existed, his parents had kept their distance more, and more, and then Maddie had left, and Buck had been left to crave physical affection, taking that intimacy wherever he could get it, regardless of the impact it had on him, regardless of how it would all leave him feeling even lonelier, when it was over.
But –
Bobby was a dad.
Not his dad –
But someone’s dad.
“Could I…” Buck cut himself off, embarrassed. “Could I have another hug, Bobby?”
Bobby’s eyes were sad, and full of sympathy – but not pity, Buck noted. “Yeah, kid,” Bobby said, pulling him in for a hug, Buck forced to stoop a little, to match Bobby’s height, comfortable in the embrace, this time. “You can have a hug.”
iii. hen
“Hey there, Buckaroo.”
Buck looked up to see Hen approaching him, doughnut in hand.
“You were missing out on the sugar delivery,” Hen explained, hanging him the plate. “So I snagged you your favourite flavour.”
Buck wanted to cry. “You didn’t have to do that, Hen.”
Hen shrugged, sliding down the wall so she was sitting on the concrete next to him, the bright sun of the Los Angeles afternoon beating down on them, the corner they were sitting in slightly secluded, distant from the noise of the firehouse that Buck normally thrived in – just, not today.
“I wanted to,” she said, taking a bite of her own doughnut – cinnamon sugar, Buck noted, her favourite. She’d always been the one to support Buck’s belief that simple was best, when it came to doughnuts, never making fun of Buck’s preference for plain old raspberry jelly flavour; unlike Chimney and the rest of the team, who favoured the hipster doughnut place around the corner from the station, and all the weird flavours they sold.
“Because you feel sorry for me?” Buck found himself asking.
“Because you’re my friend,” Hen corrected, nudging Buck’s knee with her own. “And I can see you’re hurting, Buck, so I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Buck knew he didn’t look the best, rocking up to their shift that morning – his eyes were red raw from crying, because he was in that stage of processing it all, now (Dr. Copeland had assured him that crying was a perfectly healthy trauma response, but Buck was tired of Albert’s quietly concerned looks, because apparently even crying alone in his shower didn’t guarantee privacy in the tiny space they co-existed in.)
He just hadn’t realised he looked that bad.
“I guess you know, then,” Buck murmured, poking at his doughnut. He’d given Bobby permission to tell the team, if he felt it was appropriate – he just hadn’t been able to face the prospect of telling them himself.
“No,” Hen’s voice was firm. “Whatever is going on with you, is your story to tell, Buck. Unless you want to tell me, I have no intention of finding out what is happening.”
Buck shot her a confused look.
“Chimney, he gave me the impression that whatever you’ve found out, is something that was kept from you by the people you love most in the world, and you didn’t have a choice in who found out, because Maddie told him first, and when – and when you got trapped, in that fire, Chimney panicked and told some of the team,” Hen said, explaining what Buck already knew – what Chimney had already desperately apologised for, terrified that Buck’s newfound knowledge of his dead brother had pushed him from resident daredevil to on the verge of suicidal.
Buck didn’t blame him, really.
“I didn’t hear the secret, at the fire,” Hen said. “And I asked Bobby not to tell me. I want you to be able to tell at least one person, on your own terms, if you want to tell me. And if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay too – I just want you to have the option. I’m happy to be the friend who doesn’t know, if that’s what you need.”
Hen’s sincerity was making Buck want to cry again, his friend looking at him earnestly as she spoke. He knew that if he asked her, Hen would do her best to never find out what Buck’s secret was – Hen was good with secrets – and Buck wasn’t sure how to voice his appreciation out loud in a way that felt appropriate for the magnitude of what Hen was offering him.
Peace.
The power to take control of his own situation.
Buck hadn’t felt in control from the moment he had picked up that photograph of Daniel, and Maddie had admitted who it was, but now, for a second, at least, he felt in control.
“I had a brother,” Buck admitted, hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. “I had a brother, and they never told me – they kept him from me. For my whole life, they kept him from me, Hen.”
“Oh, Buck,” Hen’s voice was thick with emotion as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
“I know – I know it wouldn’t have change the fact he died, when I was a baby,” Buck continued, managing to talk about it, even just a little, for the first time since he’d found out. “But I deserved to know, Hen.”
“Yes, you did,” Hen was fierce in her agreement. “They had no right to keep his existence from you, Buck.”
“It explains it, you know,” Buck glanced at Hen, the protectiveness that was written all over her face making his heart twist in his chest. “Why they never loved me, not really – I was never Daniel.”
“I’m not even going to pretend to understand your parents,” Hen said, wrapping her arms around Buck’s shoulders, pulling him close, running a hand through his curls, the same way Maddie used to, when he was younger. “But I’ll tell you something for nothing, Buck; I love you. I love you like a brother, and I know its not the same, but I love you. And loving you has been damn easy, from the moment you stepped into this fire station – because you have a heart of goddamn gold, Buck. And your parents inability to see that is not your fault.”
Buck let out a shuddering sigh, leaning into the comforting embrace Hen was offering him. “I’m not sure if I believe you, Hen.”
“That’s okay,” Hen reassured. “I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”
“You will?”
“I will,” Hen confirmed. “Because that’s what family does, Buck. Now – eat your doughnut before we get called out.”
iv. chimney
Buck hated the tentative way that his friend – and teammate, and future brother-in-law, probably – approached him, looking nervous. He hated it – and he hated how he didn’t have it in him to put a stop to it, just yet.
“Hey, Buck,” Chimney greeted.
Buck paused what he was doing, the chrome of the ladder truck already gleaming from the thorough polish he had given it. “Are you here as my sisters boyfriend, Chimney, or my friend?”
“As your friend,” Chimney answered without a second’s hesitation, which Buck had to admit he appreciated.
“Okay,” Buck put the polish down entirely, nodding. “Because I’m not ready to talk to Maddie about this yet.”
“She knows,” Chimney nodded, quiet for a second. “I wanted to talk to you as my friend, Buck, because – and I would walk through fire for your sister – you were my friend before I ever met Maddie, and I don’t want you to forget that. I care about you as more than just my girlfriends brother, Buck, and I’m – I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Buck didn’t have a reason not to believe Chimney – really, he didn’t. “I’m still angry,” he admitted. “That you knew before I did. You had no right to know before I did, Chim.”
“I know,” Chimney agreed, rocking forward on his heels as he spoke. “I wish I didn’t know, Buck,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t found out before you. I – I said, from the moment I knew, that you deserved to know, but as much as it wasn’t my place to know before you, it wasn’t my place to tell you. It needed to come from Maddie, and your parents.”
Buck nodded. It was true – that it would have been worse to hear it from Chimney, and not Maddie, or his mom and dad. Of all the people to hear it from, Chimney would have been the worst one. It should have come from his parents, really – from the people who’d forced a child, their daughter, to keep their older brother’s existence a secret their entire lives. Maddie had been nine, when she’d been forced to pretend Daniel had never existed. She couldn’t have possibly understood the consequences of their parents refusal to acknowledge that Daniel had been a part of their lives, once.
“I know,” Buck said finally. “I know, Chim. I just – I can’t pretend like I’m feeling all that logical, about all of this. I’m trying – I’m just not there yet.”
Chimney’s expression was genuinely understanding. “You don’t need to be logical about this, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re entitled to deal with this and grieve – and be angry as hell – in whatever way works best for you. I just – I wanted to know that I’m here for you, that I’m your friend. And if you need to talk to me, I can be your friend – and just your friend, not Maddie’s boyfriend. What we talk about, it stays between me and you, Buck.”
Buck gave Chimney a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chim,” he said, awkwardly wringing his polish rag between his hands, twisting, and pulling, the material taut in his hands. “I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about it with anyone, yet.”
And that was the truth of it –
Buck wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, not his friends, not Maddie, not even with his therapist – not yet.
“Then let’s talk about something else,” Chimney said, grabbing another polish rag, smirking at Buck. “Like your terrible polish job.”
Buck glared good-naturedly at Chimney. “I’m not a probie anymore, Chim, don’t start this.”
Chimney whistled cheerfully as he started to polish, grinning. “You’ll always be a probie to me, Buckaroo.”
v. athena
Buck hadn’t seen Athena in a while – their calls didn’t actually crossover, all that much, so it wasn’t all that unusual to have not seen her in a few weeks. A part of Buck was glad – and not because he didn’t love Athena, but he wasn’t sure if he could cope with seeing the anger she carried on his behalf in person. Buck didn’t like when other people felt burdened by his issues.
“Buck.”
Buck paused, halfway back to the truck. He couldn’t exactly ignore his Captain’s wife – or anyone, for that matter. Maddie (Maddie, always Maddie, not their parents) had raised him better than that, had raised him to be polite. “Hi, Athena.”
“I know you’re not ready to talk about it,” Athena said, hands on hips, stance fierce and protective and everything Buck never had in a mother. He was glad, May and Harry had her, at least. “But I wanted you to know – parents shouldn’t lie to their children the ways yours have lied to you. It’s cruel, and I’m sorry it happened to you, Buck.”
Buck didn’t quite know what to say. “Uh – thank you?”
“I’m not trying to overstep,” Athena raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not your mother. I’m your friend, though, Buck – and I’m someone’s mom, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking that your parents did all this out of some twisted sense of protection for you, and Maddie. Parents – however hard – should teach you how to grieve. Not teach you to be invisible as a punishment for something you never knew happened.”
Buck nodded, shaking hands gripping tightly to his halogen. “You’re a great mom, Athena,” he said quietly.
“And you’re a great man, Evan Buckley,” Athena gave his elbow a squeeze. “I just thought you should hear that from someone today.”
vi. christopher
Buck had an armful of Christopher the second he walked through the front door of the Diaz household, the little boy flying at him, crutches and all. “Oh, hey, buddy,” Buck laughed, easily scooping a wriggling Christopher up, easing his crutches off of his arms so he could hug him properly.
“I’m glad you’re here, Buck!” Christopher said, grinning widely at Buck, his new braces glinting in the soft light of the evening, reminding Buck of how grown up the kid in his arms was getting – on the cusp of his teenage years, all too soon.
“I’m glad I’m here too, buddy,” Buck replied, holding Christopher close. He wasn’t even the kids dad – and he couldn’t imagine ever lying to him, like his parents had to him, couldn’t imagine doing anything except loving the little boy with everything he had.
“Dad said you’ve had a bad week,” Christopher said matter-of-factly. “So we have a surprise for you.”
“Oh, you do?” Buck gave Christopher a watery smile, flashing Eddie a confused look.
Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “It was all this guy,” he said proudly. “I just did the driving.”
Buck laughed, looking back at Christopher. “Where are we going, then?”
“Kitchen!”
Tossing a giggling Christopher over his shoulder, Buck made his way to the kitchen, Christopher chatting excitedly as he moved. Buck felt like he was going to cry – really, properly cry – when he spotted the feast of all of his favourite things on the Diaz kitchen table.
“We got all your favourites!” Christopher explained. “Popcorn, and chocolate – and pizza! And we’re going to watch Inside Out, because its your favourite film, and me and dad, we’re going to make sure you feel better, Buck.”
Buck wiped roughly at his eyes. This kid. “I already feel better, buddy.”
Christopher’s brow was furrowed. “But you’re crying.”
“People can cry when they’re happy, Chris,” Eddie explained, running a soothing hand down Buck’s back. “It doesn’t always mean someone is sad.”
“Your dad is right,” Buck confirmed. “I’m crying because I’m happy – and I’m very grateful to have such a thoughtful kid taking care of me.”
Christopher grinned again, patting a sticky hand against Buck’s cheek. “You’re gonna be o-kay, kid,” he beamed, and for the first time, Buck almost believed it.
vii. eddie
“He’s out like a light,” Buck said softly, half closing the porch door behind them – enough that they wouldn’t wake Christopher, with their conversation, but still open enough that they’d be able to hear if Christopher woke up in the night.
Christopher had insisted on Buck being the one to put him to bed, that night, despite how hard Eddie tried to get Christopher to give Buck a break – but Buck had enjoyed the routine of it all, if he was being honest, Christopher’s happy snorts as Buck (badly) danced around the bathroom while Christopher brushed his teeth making him forget the car-wreck his life was for a few minutes, at least.
Eddie nodded, nudging a beer toward Buck. “You spoil him, you know,” he said, not a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know you read him two chapters of his book, not one.”
Buck hummed gratefully. “I know,” he said, voice dropping. “Kids deserve to be spoiled, a bit at least.”
“How are you doing Buck? Really?” Eddie asked, and Buck felt a dam inside him break – he’d kept everything he was feeling so bottled up, for so long, and all of a sudden, on his best friends back porch, it all came pouring out, tears cascading down his cheeks.
“I had a brother,” Buck hiccupped out, bordering on hysterical as he cried, Eddie moving quickly so he was crouching in front of Buck, soothing hands on Buck’s knees. “I had a brother, Eddie.”
Eddie’s face was twisted, a mixture of heartbreak and sympathy. “I know, Buck,” he soothed softly, gentle hands wiping at Buck’s tears, taking Buck’s hands in his own, grounding Buck in the new reality he had found himself in, the past few weeks – a world where he was suddenly the youngest of three siblings, the third Buckley, not the second.
“I always wanted a brother,” Buck admitted out-loud for the first time, unable to stop his tears, gripping tightly to Eddie’s hands. “I love – I love Maddie, but I always wanted a brother, too, and I had one, and I didn’t know, and I can’t stop thinking about how different life might have been if he was still around. He was ten years older than me.”
Eddie was quiet.
“His name was Daniel,” Buck said, shakily voicing his brothers name out-loud for the first time to someone other than maybe. “His name was Daniel, and he was ten years older than me, and I’d have been a really good brother to him, and that’s all I know, and I just – I wish I knew more.”
“You know,” Eddie’s voice was soft, and reassuring, comforting and grounding in ways that Buck wasn’t sure how he ever lived without before, his best friend the kind of anchor Buck needed, in his life. “I bet Maddie knows more.”
“Eddie….”
“I know it hurts,” Eddie squeezed Buck’s hands, his expression encouraging as Buck forced himself to look at the older man. “And it’s going to hurt for a long time, Buck, and I’m sorry for that – but you’re not alone in that hurt. Me, Chris, Hen – the others – we’re here, and we love you, and we’ll do our best to understand, but there’s one person in the world that shares this hurt with you.”
“But she knew, Eddie, she knew all along, and she didn’t tell me – and I know she was a kid and it wasn’t her fault, but it still hurts, because she got to know him and grieve him, and I didn’t.”
“Did she?” Eddie countered, wise as ever now he went to regular therapy. “She had to pretend he didn’t exist. To grieve properly – you need to talk about the person, about who they were, and Maddie didn’t get to do that. As much as she can help you get to know who Daniel was, you can help her grieve the brother she wasn’t allowed to remember. I can’t help you do that.”
Buck tightened his grip on Eddie’s hands. “I can’t, not yet,” he admitted hoarsely. “Not tonight.”
“No,” Eddie hummed his agreement. “Tonight its just you and me, and the rest of these beers, and as much crying as you want. Okay?”
Buck laughed. Back when he first met Eddie, he could never have imagined their friendship getting to this point – to where they could sit, and talk, and drink and cry together. Somehow, somewhere along the way, they’d created this safe space, together, and Buck had never been more grateful for his best friend than he was, there and then.
He had a brother.
And tonight – tonight was the first time he’d said that out loud and hadn’t felt bitter, and angry, about it. Tonight had been the first time he’d said those words out loud and wondered who the person was, who Daniel had been – instead of focusing on the lies, the hurt of it all.
That was progress.
Swallowing thickly, Buck wiped at his sore eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he directed his question at Eddie.
“Anything?” Eddie’s lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile.
“Anything,” Buck confirmed.
Eddie grinned. “Did you know - nearly three percent of the ice in Antarctic glaciers is penguin urine?”
Buck snorted, the sound outrageously loud in the quiet of the evening. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”
(He knew – of course he knew. Eddie was the only person who knew exactly how to bring Buck out of his own head, with odd facts and quirky news articles, anything to distract Buck from the overwhelming noise of his own thoughts).
Eddie took a swig of his beer, smiling contently. “You’re not the only one who can know weird things.”
viii. maddie
When she opened the door, Maddie greeted Buck with a relief he didn’t feel deserving to be on the receiving end of.
“I’m sorry, Maddie.”
“No,” Maddie interrupted, pulling him close, clinging tightly to his shoulders, refusing to let her pregnant belly be an obstacle to squeezing the life out of Buck – and he couldn’t say he was opposed to a bone-crushing hug from his sister. “You don’t need to apologise, Buck, not to me – not about this. I should be apologising to you.”
Buck pressed his face into the material of Maddie’s cardigan, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. She’d worn the same one since she was a teenager, and in the years when they weren’t in contact, Buck – well, he’d sometimes go to the perfume section of the department store, and sneak a sample, desperate to feel close to his sister, even if Doug had long since cut her off from him.
“I can’t hear you,” Maddie admitted, her voice soft as she ran a gentle hand through Buck’s hair.
“I said,” Buck pulled back slightly, Maddie’s tears reflecting his own. “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about – but uh, Maddie, will you tell me about him?”
Maddie brushed away a few stray tears of Buck’s before they had the chance to drip from his chin, nodding. “I’d really like that,” she confirmed, tugging Buck toward the couch. Her baby box was still on the coffee table, a photograph of Daniel – the same one Buck had found – propped up against the wood, another one next to it.
Of the three of them.
Buck looked as though he couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, in the photograph, Maddie proudly holding him in her arms, a little boy who was familiar, in so many ways, hair blond and bright like Buck’s had been, as a child – and unfamiliar in so many others, a kid who would forever be twelve years old.
“Is that us?” Buck asked, doing his best to fold his long limbs, curling himself up against Maddie, thinking back to when they were kids, and all the evenings they’d do the same – Buck curled up in her lap as they watched TV, or as Maddie soothed his tears after a fight with their parents. Her belly got in the way, a bit, and a part of Buck’s heart ached with the knowledge that someone else, his niece, would curl up in Maddie’s lap the same way he used to, in just a matter of months, but he pushed the thought aside.
“I told everyone you were my baby,” Maddie said, sounding like she was smiling. “Oh, I loved you so much from the moment you were born, Buck, and I wouldn’t let Daniel go near you – because you were mine.”
Buck didn’t try and stop his tears, now.
“He loved you just as much,” Maddie continued. “He would tell dad, how excited he was to be able to teach you to play soccer, one day, and ride a bike.”
All the things Maddie had taught him, in the end, Buck thought to himself.
“He picked your middle name,” Maddie continued. “Because he had a best friend called EJ, and he told mom and dad that you should have the same initials – Evan James - because you were going to be his new best friend.”
Closing his eyes, Buck let Maddie’s words wash over him, painting a picture of someone he would never have the chance to know – but loved, Buck thought, all the same, because Daniel couldn’t have known, how life would turn out without him, because he had only been a kid, when he died – and he wouldn’t have understood.
“He’d be proud of you, I think,” Maddie said quietly, pressing a kiss to Buck’s curls. “Because I am, Buck, I am so proud of you. You are not a disappointment. You are the greatest man I have ever known and I am so proud of you, and I love you, and I’ll tell everyone the same thing I told them when I was eight and I held you for the first time. You’re mine, Buck, not theirs.”
Buck nodded, not trusting himself to open his eyes. “I love you, Maddie.”
“I love you, little brother,” Maddie sounded like she was crying too, now. “We’re going to be okay.”
Buck –
Well, he didn’t have a reason not to believe his sister.
He wanted to believe her.
And maybe –
Just maybe.
He already did.
Yeah.
They would be okay.
#911 fox#evan buckley#maddie buckley#911 fic#in which i ramble#in which lorna writes fic#this is what i did instead of working this morning yes#don't @ me i;m overflowing with feelings after that episode
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Mr Frilly part 2
Part 1
Jaskier makes pizza with Geralt and Ciri. It’s cute and fluffy. Oh and they flirt.
also on ao3
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Jaskier wasn’t nervous. He absolutely wasn’t nervous. Except he was. He totally was because he had a dinner date – was it even a date? It’s just dinner, come on Jask – with a gorgeous hunk of a complete dork of a dad that was utterly besotted with his angelic little gremlin. And Jaskier had just met him. Just met Geralt and Ciri and already he was determined not to blow it. Frankly, Jaskier didn’t care if Geralt wasn’t interested – he's probably ten years older than me, he’s got a kid, he might be straight-straight not just kinda straight – but he so desperately wanted to spend more time with them both and get to know them.
God knows he could use some more friends. Valdo seemed to have left their relationship with all their mutual friends, but I suppose that’s what happens when you date a guy from university for four years and just make friends with all his music friends and –
Jaskier wanted so badly to get this right.
Which is why he stood outside the Rivia house – a beautiful old tall town house which Jaskier would have bet has one of those gorgeous long winding gardens – with a distinctly not-rubbish film and some flowers. A simple but beautiful bunch of wildflowers that Jaskier had stared at for at least fifteen minutes at the shop after he’d left Geralt and Ciri in confectionary. He’d decided to risk it but they’re white and delicate so if he's read the vibe completely wrong they’re obviously for Ciri.
He knocked. Geralt said not to ring the doorbell because next door has a baby.
Oh God I should have changed. Why am I still wearing my shopping clothes and this dumb scarf –
“Hey, Jaskier.”
Jaskier looked up to see Geralt at the doorway, long white hair tied up now and an apron at his waist – oh man why is that sexy?
He had a flour smudge on his cheek and his shirt was covered in flecks. Jaskier was about to tease him and ask why he’s only got a tiny apron when he's wearing a black shirt when he heard footsteps behind the man.
“Mr Frilly!” Ciri cheered as she joined them in the doorway. She was wearing a full-size apron which on a child should look utterly ridiculous but she was also wearing an expression that said she was in charge.
“Already started on dinner I see!” Jaskier said with a grin.
Geralt looked down at his shirt and gave a very sweet shrug before standing to the side and gesturing for Jaskier to join them inside.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered. Ciri had already bounded back down the hallway so Jaskier shuffled in and started to wiggle his shoes off with his feet. This inadvertently drew attention to the flowers in his hand.
“Uh, I brought these,” Jaskier started, studying Geralt’s face carefully. Beneath the white smudge of flour there was a distinct pink blush. He didn’t think Geralt looked uncomfortable but oh God it’s so hard to tell. “I brought these.” He repeated quietly.
Jaskier inched the flowers forward to Geralt and thank God he took them. Geralt smiled. No doubt there, that was a proper nice smile.
“Thank you, Jaskier,” he said softly. Jaskier felt Geralt's hand on his shoulder and he was about to say something when –
“Daddy, the dough has gotten SO big!”
Jaskier and Geralt shared a little laugh before Geralt lead him further into the house.
The kitchen was in surprising order considering the state of the chefs, and Jaskier and Geralt walked in to find Ciri proudly holding up a bowl of proofing dough.
“I’ll show you how to make a base,” Ciri said excitedly.
“Wash your hands, Ciri,” Geralt reminded her and Jaskier also took his turn at the sink. As he dried his hands, we watched Geralt dig around a cupboard for a vase, as though he hadn’t used one in a long time, before carefully arranging the flowers to sit in the middle of the kitchen table.
It was a wonderfully sweet evening. Jaskier and Ciri both managed to get covered in flour as they tried to shape pizza crusts while Geralt seemed to be able to do it blind and helping them at the same time.
Jaskier had figured they’d be using tomato puree (he won’t admit to how many years at university he’d lived on pasta and tomato puree) but Geralt brought over a pan of homemade tomato sauce that smelled so good. Even better was the proud little smile he made when Jaskier told him how good it smelled. Best yet was the blush and sudden inhale Geralt didn’t manage to hide when Jaskier couldn’t resist sticking a finger in to try a lick.
“Toppings!” Ciri exclaimed as she carried what Jaskier assumed was a stack of everything from the fridge. Cheese quickly went absolutely everywhere as they each assembled a pizza and it turned out the pair had a tradition of making an extra Frankenstein pizza with every topping.
They loaded them into the oven – “Daddy's going to build a pizza oven in the garden next spring,” Ciri excitedly informed Jaskier. “But they’re still good in the oven.”
Geralt started to clear up while the pizzas cooked, and Ciri immediately vanished. Jaskier stood next to him at the sink to dry things up.
“Thank you for asking me over,” Jaskier said, even though it was clearly Ciri that asked. “I'm really glad I’m here.”
Geralt Hmmed at that, and Jaskier had started to notice it might be his default setting but it sounded like a happy Hmm at least. “What would your Saturday night have been otherwise?” Geralt asked.
“Oh, um,” Jaskier hesitated and dammit he knew he was blushing but he’s going to think I'm so naive and just struggling and – “Well, I’m usually performing at some venue or another, if I’ve managed to get any bookings.” He looked over at Geralt and he seemed interested, not like he suddenly regretted inviting a hipster over, so, “I sing and, uh, play guitar. Among other things.”
Geralt nodded, and definitely didn’t look at Jaskier's mouth when he bit his lip nervously, except Jaskier definitely saw his eyes dart down.
Jaskier shrugged. “But nobody knows me around here. Not yet anyway,” Jaskier laughed quietly. “I’m on at the open mic night this week at Posada's –”
“The live night at The Mandrake is pretty good,” Geralt cut in. Jaskier couldn’t have contained his smile even if he’d tried. Honestly, so many people laughed at him for still trying and –
Breathe, Jask.
“Yeah? What kind of music do they usually have? I mean, well, a lot of my covers usually go down really well, but I also play a lot of my own songs,” Jaskier asked as he dried up the last bowl. Damn it, he was starting to ramble. But he looked over again at Geralt and the man was nodding, and Jaskier thought he might have Hmmed again. Silently though. Jaskier got a little distracted again watching Geralt dry his hands on Jaskier's dish towel and then start to put things away.
“Hmm? What sort of things do you write?” Geralt finally asked, and he definitely stood closer than he needed to as he reached around Jaskier to pick crockery up from the counter.
Jaskier was absolutely not about to reply something like meeting hot dads at the supermarket when the oven timer beeped loudly.
“Pizza!!”
Jaskier jumped a little at Ciri's sudden – immediate – reappearance and although he had no real reason to blush, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Geralt laughed ever so quietly. Jaskier eyed him carefully as the man's mouth turned up in the slightest smirk. Oh, Geralt was teasing him.
Jaskier flicked the dish towel at Geralt before joining Ciri at the oven, taking the mitts from her before she could try to hurt herself carrying too many hot pizzas. They took the pizzas to the lounge and before Jaskier could worry about where he should sit, Ciri sat him in the middle of the sofa because that’s where guests sit, Mr. Frilly.
“What film are we watching?” Ciri asked, sat on the floor in front of the telly to get to the DVD player.
“Oh!” Jaskier popped up again and went to his bag. “Have you guys seen The Princess Bride?”
Ciri had not and Gert agreed it was a not-rubbish film. Not that Jaskier would have judged him too harshly if he didn’t liked his favourite film.
He sat between Geralt and Ciri as they ate pizza, and Jaskier definitely agreed it was at least the best pizza in town and quite frankly until he tried ‘Papa Vesemir's’ pizza, he was willing to say best ever. They watched the film, Geralt and Jaskier both half watching Ciri watch it for the first time. When Geralt took his hair out from its bun, Jaskier couldn’t help but reach over to tuck a stray lock behind his ear before Geralt tied half of it back anyway.
Away from the warm kitchen, it cooled down quickly in the lounge so Geralt pulled the throw blanket over them from the back of the sofa. He laughed softly when Jaskier stole the opportunity to tuck in closer as his arms were raised, and then laughed properly when Ciri used Jaskier's distraction to steal his frilly scarf.
Jaskier must have dozed off towards the end of the film because he woke up to Geralt carefully easing him up from leaning against his chest as the credits rolled. “Just putting Ciri to bed.”
Ah, yes, parenting to be done. Jaskier blinked himself awake somewhat while Geralt followed Ciri upstairs. As he listened to muffled arguments about whether she'd brushed her teeth for long enough and how many stories she needed before sleep, Jaskier took their cleared plates back to the kitchen.
He was putting the last of the clean dishes away when Geralt reappeared.
“The princess sleeps?” Jaskier asked softly. Geralt Hmmed at him, leaning against the door frame in a way that looked far too good for him to not be aware.
“Are you awake now?” Geralt teased, and Jaskier admirably resisted sticking his tongue out. Really though, he only resisted because he finally closed the distance between them and leaned up, hopeful, towards Geralt. He was pretty sure, but Oh god what if he really had misread things –
Geralt kissed him. He kissed him softly, steadily and with a firm hand holding Jaskier's hip to his waist.
Jaskier sighed, only loud enough for Geralt to just hear. “Yeah, I'm awake.”
#I wrote a thing#geraskier#geraskier fanfic#witcher fanfic#geraskier modern au#single dad geralt#jaskier has the hots for single dad geralt#geraskier being cute#geraskier snuggles#ciri is the sweetest angel gremlin#all fluff no plot
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Self-Defense - Johnny Lawrence Imagine Part 1
Summary: Johnny finds out you know a little bit of self-defense, but learns you don’t know enough as you should when trouble ensues when he’s not around.
Author’s Note: I’m in the middle of writing part 2 so stay tuned and enjoy this first part! (Also I tried very hard to create my own gifs and only one managed to work for some reason so bare with me)
It was nine-fifteen in the evening, you were counting the minutes till you could clock out. It’s not that you hated your job, but it surely wasn’t the job of your dreams. It was something to pay the bills while you worked on your career. It was a trendy hipster bar and restaurant, so it wasn’t the worst. The other employees weren’t too bad, really the worst part of the job was the sleazy men that drowned themselves in liquor and harassed the customers and workers. Your manager had his fair share of jerks he had to kick out, but the past couple months remained enjoyable.
You handed the drink menus to your last table, two young men on a guys night out. You headed back to the bar when you caught eyes with a handsome blonde walking through the doors. He nodded to the hostess, pointing at your direction with a grin on his face. You blushed, making your way behind the bar. He claimed a seat directly in front of you.
He smirked, “Hi beautiful.”
“Hello handsome.” You leaned on the bar.
“I know you get out at nine-thirty but I couldn’t wait to see you.” He winked.
You blushed, flashing him a flirty grin. From the corner of your eye, you caught the men at your table staring at you. You held up your index finger at Johnny.
“One sec.”
He nodded, not-so casually checking you out as you made your way to the table. He returned his attention to the bar, signaling the bartender.
“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?”
“I’m not sure-” One of the men hesitated, the drink menu still in his hand.
“Well, if you’re looking for something strong, I recommend the ‘Shift Drink.’ It’s mixed with a little rye whiskey and ginger syrup, it’s a classic cocktail. But if you’re looking for something sweeter, I’d recommend ‘The Blood and Sand.’ It’s mixed with both orange juice and sweet vermouth. Or the ‘Peach Blood and Sand,’ replacing the orange juice with peach flavoring. Do you like peach?”
“Well -” the man started, completely ignoring your spiel.
“I do.” His friend added, his hand grazing your butt in admiration. You jumped at the touch, though you weren’t the only one. Johnny had turned right at the moment the man put his hand on you, causing him to jump out of his seat, making a beeline towards the table. Meanwhile, you had instinctively grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling it up and towards his back, slamming his head on the table. The commotion shook the restaurant, everyone now staring. Johnny had stopped in his tracks at the scene.
You bent down to the man’s ear. “If you ever lay a hand on me again I’ll break your fucking arm.” You whispered with gritted teeth. Your manager tapped your shoulder, you whipped your head, still in fight mode. He gave you the signal to take off a few minutes early. You released the man’s arm, turning back towards the bar. Johnny gently reached for your arm as you passed him. You looked up, completely oblivious to how close he was to the scene.
“You okay?”
You nodded. “Just gonna get my jacket.” He nodded back, walking towards the bar as you made your way to the backroom.
He reached for his wallet, paying for his drink and tipping the bartender while he waited. You were slipping your arms in your jacket as you made your way over to Johnny. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket, you slipped your arm between his. He peered down at you with a small smile before the two of you exited the restaurant.
***
Throughout the car ride and on the way to your door, the two of you had joked about the situation at the restaurant.
“Who would’ve thought that the sweetest angel in the world could break a man’s arm.” The two of you laughed, arriving at the front of your door. You turned to face him.
“But seriously babe, where did that come from?” He grinned with intrigue.
You shrugged. “YouTube I guess. Ever since I got this job, I thought it would be crucial to learn self-defense, even if it’s just a move or two.”
Well,” He started with a teasing smirk plastered on his face, “I wouldn’t wanna fight you, you’re pretty feisty.”
You blushed with a laugh, pushing him playfully before pulling him into a kiss.
***
- Several Weeks Later -
“Have a good night!” You hollered to the clerk, the door closing behind you with a ring. You had made a quick run to the mini-mart for some milk, it was only a few blocks away from your apartment so you chose to walk rather than waste gas. It was late, pushing nine o’clock. You quickly realized it may not have been the best idea to walk alone at night, especially in such a dimly lit area. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call Johnny, his voice alone made you feel at ease.
Back at the dojo, Johnny was wrapping up with his students.
“Fight!”
Before Mitch could take a second step, Hawk had kicked him halfway off the mat. In the backroom, Johnny's phone vibrated on his desk, the screen illuminating your name.
You sighed, pulling the phone away from your face. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You listened closely, your eyes wide. The sound matched yours, same pace, same route, with the exception of the weight the sound carried. You redialed Johnny’s number.
“Alright now I don’t wanna hear any bitchin’ or moanin’ about feeling sore in the morning. You’re here to work hard and be badass.” His phone continued to be ignored as he wrapped up his session.
You held the phone to your face, hoping it would appear as if someone was on the other line. You dared to turn your head only to find no one behind you. You slowly turned your head, eyes wandering over the environment behind you. You turned - smack - you collided with the chest of a tall man towering over you. You quickly backstepped. Two heavy hands wrapped around your arms from behind you. You jumped with a shriek, the screen of your phone cracked as it hit the ground, the carton of milk exploded over the concrete. The man in front of you grinned before taking his steps towards you.
Miguel was the last to leave the dojo, like most nights. Johnny made his way to the backroom, closing the door behind him as he changed out of his clothes. He placed his belongings in his bag, grabbing his phone. The device illuminated, exposing two missed calls from you. He dialed your number, pressing his shoulder to his ear as he gathered his bag and locked the back room. He walked across the dojo, your voicemail playing in his ear. Beep
“Hey babe, sorry I missed your call, was wrapping up with the kids. I’m on my way out, I’ll swing by your place -” He shut the lights to the dojo off, locking the door behind him. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, opening the door to his Challenger.
***
Johnny had knocked on your door for the second time.
“Babe?” Silence. He sighed, shifting his focus to the outside hallway. He dialed your number again.
Nothing. He pulled his phone down and stared at it. It was past ten, he knew you didn’t work late.
He walked down the steps, starting to feel the heat rise in his chest as he grew to wonder where you were. He figured you’d probably call him by the time he reached his place.
***
He stared at his phone on the kitchen counter. He took another swig of beer and nearly choked at the rapid knocking on his door. He sped to the door and opened it to see one of the most heartbreaking sights he’s encountered. There you were, trembling at his door. Tears had stained your scratched cheeks, a dark bruise covered your right cheekbone, blood peaked behind your hair from the corner of your head. Your lip, cut, quivered in humiliation and terror. Johnny pulled you in his apartment, as if the action would protect you from further pain.
He turned to you, his throat drying up. He swallowed, “Who did this to you?” He asked in a low but stern voice.
“Johnny-” You choked.
“Babe - please, just tell me who and where the hell they are right now.” He demanded, anger rising. He didn’t bother to ask if you were okay as you clearly weren’t, he thought the quicker he learns about what happened, the faster he’ll get to catching these guys.
“I-I don’t know, I was walking -”
“Where??”
“The Mini-Mart-”
“You were walking to the Mini-Mart?!”
“I needed milk.” You said sheepishly, your voice started to crack.
“Why didn’t you just tell me!?”
“I didn’t want to bother you - you were working!” You shouted back, tears starting to form.
“And look what happened!!”
“Johnny please-” You started to cry, your hand covering your mouth.
His heart shattered. Realizing he was making everything worse he pulled you into his chest.
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed your back. Having you cry into his chest made his eyes start to water.
***
Once the tears had settled, Johnny had led you to his bathroom where he helped clean you up. He had you lean on the counter as he dabbed the blood off your face with a washcloth. You sniffled, hiccups still lingering. You watched as he focused on rinsing the cloth. He bent down to you again, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss to your forehead. He looked you in the eyes as if to ask how you were doing. You nodded, unable to muster a sympathetic smile. He showed his instead and kissed you gently on the lips. He left to his room, returning with his Zebra shirt, your favorite. You accepted the offer and sat up as he removed himself from the bathroom.
You were folding your clothes, crossing over to his bedroom when you caught him by the front door, putting on his black leather jacket.
“Where are you going?” Concern in your voice.
He walked over to you, sympathy written over his face. He gently wrapped his calloused hand over your soft ones.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” The two of you knew what he was planning to do after you were calm enough to describe the men and everything that happened.
“Johnny-” You shook your head with worry.
“Babe-”
“No!” You squeezed his hand, tugging them towards you.
His face fell, watching your emotions untangle once more.
“Please Johnny-” You shook your head, voice breaking as tears started to fall. “Don’t leave me.” You hiccuped.
To hear the sincerity and fear in your voice was all it took to convince him to stay.
He looked down, partially ashamed. He nodded, looking back at you. He stepped forward and gently swiped his thumb over your cheek.
“I’m not gonna leave you.”
***
You were sound asleep in Johnny’s bed resting your head on his chest. He, on the other hand, was wide awake. He caressed your hair and continued to stare at the ceiling. He was trying not to grow too angry as he thought about what you had told him. The thought of someone violently harassing you and to learn it was two men, boiled his blood. He wanted so badly to slip out of the apartment, find the men responsible and kick their ass. But he couldn’t betray your trust, he told you he would stay, so he will.
Hope you enjoyed this part, stay tuned for part 2! 💕
#johnny lawrence imagine#cobra kai imagine#william zabka imagine#cobra kai fanfic#Johnny Lawrence fanfic#billy zabka#billy zabka imagine#fanfiction#imagine#fan fiction blog#imagine blog#cobra kai headcanon#Johnny Lawrence headcanon#headcanon
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You Make My Heart Skip A Beet
You Make My Heart Skip a Beet
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)
Word count: 3.8k
Rating: Teen and Up
A/N: Based on this lovely prompt by @greyhoundsgirl. I have to be honest here, I’ve never actually seen Top Chef though so I thought it would be safer to make up a new fictional amateur cooking competition which I’ve titled Chef Wars :p
No warnings to speak of, apart from maybe for awful food puns, but it is a bit of a cracky piece, and it’s in Sam POV (poor guy). Hope you enjoy!! 💗 Huge thanks to the amazing @rainbowsandcoconut for brainstorming, food puns and awesome beta’ing, as usual 😘
Read on AO3
Summary:
“I made soda bread.”
Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”
The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”
****************************
When Sam and Steve had first been approached about being guest judges on an Avengers-themed special of Chef Wars, they’d spent a full fifteen minutes jumping around the common room in the Tower like a pair of overgrown kids on a sugar high.
Guest judges. On Chef Wars.
It so happens that Sam and Steve watch Chef Wars religiously. In fact, Steve even mentioned this in passing in one or two of his more recent interviews when asked how Captain America likes to spend his downtime, which is probably how the show’s executives had thought to invite them in the first place.
Sam’s love for cooking and cooking shows was passed down to him by his mother Darlene, and he, in turn, passed it on to Captain America – though if you’d told ten-year-old Sam that, he would’ve thought you were nuts. Poor Steve isn’t exactly the culinary sort of guy himself, but once Sam started turning up on his doorstep three nights a week to keep him company and make sure he didn’t sink further into depression, he’d slowly started to enjoy the shows Sam insisted on watching with him. Sam figured the familiarity of the actions and the low stakes of an amateur cooking competition would be perfectly suited to someone trying to integrate into a new century, while still being just exciting enough to hold the attention of an adrenaline junkie like Steve.
And he was right. So now, every Thursday night, the two of them chill on Steve’s couch, yelling at the TV and pretending they‘d do a better job of it than the contestants. Which, to be fair, Sam probably would, but Steve decidedly would not. What Steve lacks in culinary skills, though, he more than makes up for with his crazy supersoldier metabolism, rivaled only by the Other Guy and sometimes Thor, once he’s cracked open the mead. Steve can eat, and he does so with relish.
So needless to say, when they got the invite, they’d both jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t, when presented with the opportunity to do the thing they did every Thursday night for funsies, but this time for realsies? And after weeks of giddy anticipation, today is finally the day.
Filming day.
The whole thing had gotten off to an excellent start. The sun was shining, Steve had actually been whistling on their way to the studio instead of nervously drumming his fingers on the dashboard (something which got on Sam’s nerves like nothing else), and they’d been offered some quality Italian espresso when they arrived. The show got on the road as soon as they’d gotten a quick tour of the studio, and after lights, camera, action, the contestants were introduced one by one.
There is Bernadette, a Missouri housewife who turned out to be somewhat of a BBQ expert and who reminds Sam of his Aunt Jenna; there’s Bob, a big, burly dude from Kentucky who wouldn’t look amiss on a Pro Wrestling show but who ends up surprising them all with a surprisingly delicate edible flower-dish dedicated to his lovely wife; and Yulia, a tiny, fierce girl from Bulgaria with some mean knife skills who Sam suspects could very well be a distant relative of Natasha’s.
And then there’s Bucky Barnes.
Bucky Barnes is a thirty-one-year-old physical therapist from Brooklyn who’s looking to change careers and get into the restaurant business full time. He has that whole hipster vibe going on: long, meticulously conditioned chestnut hair in a messy top knot, designer stubble, sleeve of – admittedly awesome – tattoos on his left arm. His cool, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones give him a model-like appearance, and yet there’s something soft and disarming about him.
Steve certainly seems to think so, at least.
The moment Barnes came walking through those glass doors, Sam heard Steve suck in a sharp breath at his side. A quick glance at Steve’s slack-jawed expression told Sam all he needed to know, since the dude is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d elbowed Steve in the side until he looked over and pretended to wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes went wide as he hastily mirrored the movement, missing the joke by about fifty yards. Oh, boy.
From that moment onward, Steve’s brain seemed to have gone through a blender, turning it into a rainbow smoothie – which was pretty unfortunate, considering they were going to have to interact with the contestants in a way that was suitable for daytime television.
The thing is, Steve is not exactly what you’d call a people person at the best of times. He’s fine with someone he’s known for a while and feels comfortable with, but with strangers he’s just… a little awkward. Credit where credit’s due, Steve is one of the most loyal, sweet, funny and whip-smart guys Sam has ever known – and let’s not forget stubborn as hell – but he’s also very, very bad at social cues. It’s not his fault, of course. Steve had gone from growing up pretty isolated without any real friends to speak of, to suddenly spending years surrounded only by his army buddies, which wasn’t at all representative for how normal people interacted with each other (Sam knows this from experience).
While Steve’s many social faux-pas are an endless source of entertainment for Sam, he’s not a total asshole, and he has tried to help Steve practice his social skills. Unfortunately, giving him well-meaning advice like “just be yourself” seems to be a sure-fire way to ensure Steve will put his foot in his mouth somehow.
That’s why Steve prefers to put on his Cap persona for public interactions. When he’s Captain America instead of Steve Rogers, all he has to do is look commanding and sort of friendly and say bland things like “I’m very happy to be here” and “You did well, son” and no one would be any the wiser that beneath that righteous exterior, Steve was floundering and wondering when he could reasonably leave whatever social engagement Pepper had sweet-talked him into attending, and head home to the comfort of his armchair and his sketchbook.
For today’s engagement, Steve had wisely adopted this approach as well, and the fact that he was genuinely excited to be there helped to loosen him up a little – so really, it should’ve all been fine.
But then Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn walked into the room and turned his big, blue eyes in Steve’s direction, and Steve promptly seemed to forget who or what a Captain America even was.
So far, Steve has already missed his cue twice, and it’s taken Sam stepping on his toes to get him to focus. To be fair, though, Steve puts in a valiant effort to pull himself together, managing to ooh and aah in all the right places when talking to the other candidates – sheer dumb luck, if you ask Sam. But as Steve’s best friend and confidante, Sam sees right through it. He hasn’t missed the way Steve’s gaze keeps drifting in Barnes’ direction, and coupled with the blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck whenever Barnes’s eyes meet his, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Cap has got himself a Manhattan-sized crush.
Now, most people probably aren’t aware that Captain America is also attracted to men, but Sam has a feeling that by the end of this episode, that cat will be most definitely out of the closet. Steve’s never purposely hid his sexuality; it was more of a question of it never having come up yet. It sure as hell has come up now.
And what makes this even better is that Barnes is just as bad. He stuttered his way through his introduction, very obviously starstruck at meeting Captain America, but also very obviously gay as hell for him, if the way his eyes lingered on Steve’s chest and thighs is any indication. Sam, for his part, is incredibly amused by it all. Not only does he get to be on the set of his favorite cooking show, he also gets to rib Steve, throwing in as many food puns as he possibly can – most of which go over Steve’s head because he’s too busy drooling over Barnes. Sam’s wit is wasted on his friends.
Then, it’s time to judge. In the first round, the contestants are supposed to make something which represents why they got into cooking in the first place.
Sam can feel Steve practically vibrate with nerves at his side as they walk up to Barnes’ station. Feeling magnanimous, Sam decides to have mercy on his muscly pal and take the lead on this one.
“Mr. Barnes,” he says, giving Barnes an encouraging smile. “Tell us about your dish, if you please.”
“Call me Bucky,” Barnes says, returning the gesture with a quick quirk of his lips.
Next to him, Steve repeats the name in a whisper, most likely unaware that he’s even doing it.
Sam has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.
*****
Bucky’s confessional
“I grew up in Brooklyn, as the eldest of five kids. My dad left when I was fifteen, and while I was still in school, my mom had to work three jobs to provide for us all. She wasn’t home much, so it was kind of up to me to make sure dinner was on the table most nights.”
Bucky plucks at the seam of his black skinny jeans, lost in thought. “I think that’s why my specialty is comfort food. Nothing unnecessary, just hearty, nutritious food, y’know?” With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Although since all my siblings moved into their own places I’ve been cooking mostly for myself and my cat, so I’ve been experimenting with adding some twists to my tried and tested recipes.” He laughs, right hand clasping the back of his neck in a bashful gesture. “I’ve had… mixed success. Luckily Alpine has loved all of it. She’s my cat.”
“My first dish today is Irish soda bread with sage butter and Himalayan sea salt,” Bucky continues. “Bread was something we could never have enough of in our household. Five growing kids, y’know? And also, um...” A slight blush creeps its way onto Bucky’s cheeks, his eyes flitting around nervously. “Well, I guess you could say I used to be a bit of a history nerd growing up. I was super interested in World War II, particularly, uh, Captain America.” His blush deepens, spreading upwards from the neckline of his white t-shirt to the tips of his pierced ears.
“I, uh, I basically read every Steve Rogers biography I could get my hands on, which is why I learned to make things like soda bread because, y’know, Steve Rogers was Irish. Is Irish,” he corrects himself. Bucky’s eyes glaze over, taking on a faraway look. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Cap was found a few years ago,” he marvels, “and alive. I don’t think I slept for a week after I found out.” He stares into space for a moment before shaking himself. He clears his throat, eyes refocusing on the person behind the camera. “Anyway, so when I heard that Chef Wars was doing an Avengers-themed special, I immediately applied because Steve – Cap, I mean- Captain America. Um. Yeah, so Cap mentioned in a few of his interviews that he watches Chef Wars, so I figured there would be a good chance he’d be watching this one too, you know? And then I got the email that I’d been selected and that he was going to be the one judging us, and I just…” Bucky trails off, looking a little faint, the blood draining from his face as quickly as it had risen.
“God, I just can’t believe I’ll finally get to see him in the flesh.” His eyes widen. “In person, I mean," he hastily amends. "And I’m excited about my dishes too, of course. I really hope Cap will like them. And the Falcon. Him, too. Yeah.”
*****
“I made soda bread.”
Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”
The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”
When Steve puts a piece of bread into his mouth and chews slowly, he sniffs, eyes turning a little watery. “It tastes exactly like my mom’s,” he says in a hushed voice, sounding like he can’t quite believe his taste buds. Sam pats Steve’s back consolingly, before scooping up some sage butter with his own piece of bread and taking an enthusiastic bite.
“Hmm, nice,” he says, giving Barnes an appreciative nod. “And the butter? You make that yourself, too?”
“You butter believe it,” Barnes replies, then immediately looks horrified, like he can’t believe he made a pun that bad on national television.
Sam cackles, holding out his fist for Barnes to bump. When Barnes has recovered enough to return the gesture with his left hand, Steve stares longingly at their touching hands, before letting his gaze trail over the tattoos on Barnes’ exposed forearm. Since he's not exactly subtle about it, Barnes catches him looking and gives Steve a tentative smile when their eyes meet. Steve chokes on absolutely nothing and launches into an impromptu coughing fit. “Crumbs,” he wheezes, thumping a massive fist on his massive chest, “wrong pipe.”
Sam just smirks at him, before turning back to Barnes. “That was delicious,” he tells him. “Can’t wait for your next dish, man.”
“Really, really, good,” Steve chimes in once he’s caught his breath. “Well done, Bucky.”
Barnes goes as red as a tomato, eyes trained on the floor as he awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Steve, please,” Steve implores.
Barnes bites his lip, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Thanks, Steve.”
Sam's pretty sure Steve stops breathing altogether right then. Christ, it’s like there’s an electrical current running between the two of them, the air crackling with it. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very nauseating.
Sam claps his hands. “Right,” he says loudly, “moving on to the next contestant now… Yulia, what have you prepared for us?”
*****
By the time the second round rolls around, Steve has had a series of meltdowns and Sam has spent precious time he could’ve been exploring the set and taking pics for his mom on talking Steve out of a bathroom stall. Damn, he’s a good friend. It takes all of Sam’s VA-honed therapist skills to convince Steve that he’s doing fine, he’s not embarrassing himself, and no one but Sam has noticed Steve’s massive heart boner for Barnes yet. Sam actually isn’t entirely positive about that last one – or the first two for that matter – but Steve doesn’t need to know that. There are still two rounds to go.
In the second round, contestants are asked to make a dish that represents who they are as a person.
While the contestants are cooking up a metaphorical storm, Sam and Steve walk around their stations to chat with everyone some more, camera crew on their heels. Steve manages to get out at least three complete sentences, and Bernadette and Bob are too in awe of him to notice the few times he says something that doesn’t actually make any sense. Yulia has given no indication that she even knows who either of them are, and Sam can practically feel the relief radiating off of Steve. He guesses that’s part of why he and Natasha get on so well.
When they round on Barnes’ station, Barnes has just started seasoning his dish. There’s a checkered dishcloth slung over his right shoulder and a focused look on his face, which turns into one of low-key stress the moment he spots Steve and Sam coming towards him. Leaning his hip against the counter, Sam settles in to watch Steve make a fool of himself. He's not disappointed.
“Wow,” Steve says inanely, gesturing in the direction of Barnes’ hands. “That’s- you’re- you’re really good at that.”
Barnes pauses his turning of the peppermill to give Steve a slightly panicked look. “At… grinding?”
At Steve’s strangled cough, Barnes seems to realize what he just said, his bewildered expression morphing into one of abject mortification. The poor guy looks like he’d very much like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.
Honestly, these two deserve each other.
When they've finished chatting to everyone and it’s time to taste, Barnes is asked to explain his dish and how it represents him. He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat since their last encounter, his stance a little more confident now and his eyes only drifting to Steve’s pecs every other sentence.
“I’m a simple guy,” he tells them, somehow managing to make it sound genuine instead of cliché. “I enjoy the little things in life. I like taking care of people, making them feel good and comfortable, and I think that’s reflected in my cooking. I enjoy making comfort food, the hale and hearty stuff.” He licks his lips, meaningfully adding, “Although, don’t get me wrong. I do indulge occasionally. I’ve got my guilty pleasures same as everyone else, y'know?” That last part is directed at Steve, who nods dazedly, like he knows exactly what Barnes means. Gross.
“So I guess you could say you’re just… arugula guy?” Sam grins, cheerfully ignoring the growing sexual tension.
Barnes stares at him for a beat, and then snorts. “You know what?” he says, returning Sam's grin, “the s’more I get to know you, the s’more I like you.”
Sam has a very real moment where he thinks he might actually fall in love with this guy himself. It’s only Steve’s doe-eyed look that keeps him from proposing to Barnes there and then. Okay, and maybe the fact that Barnes is clearly smitten with Steve, and also Sam is straight and very happily dating Nat, who would not hesitate to gut him if he decided to elope with some pasty hipster dude.
Barnes’ dish – mac and cheese with black truffle and locally sourced cheeses and fancy cuts of bacon – is mouthwateringly good, and Sam tells him as much. Using appropriate words to do so. You know, like a normal person.
Steve, on the other hand, moans loudly around his bite and then, mouth still full, he blurts, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”
In the painfully awkward silence that follows, Steve and Barnes blush so hard the combined heat of their flaming cheeks could probably power most of New York City. This time, Sam can’t contain his laughter. He crows as he gleefully slaps his thighs, and even some of the crew is hiding having a hard time staying professional in the face of such blatant dumbassery.
Shaking his head, Sam grabs Steve by the bicep and herds him towards the backroom. “Come on, Casanova,” he says. “Let’s get you some ice for those burns.”
*****
For dessert, Barnes goes all out.
He actually makes Captain America cake pops, shaped and decorated like Steve’s shield with blue, red and white frosting. Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees them. Barnes explains how they’re “sort of an adult version” of normal cake pops, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. He’s been on the internet. He unfortunately has seen adult versions of all kinds of Captain America paraphernalia. Fortunately, Barnes just means that his cake pops have some sort of liquor in the center, “for a punch, you know?”
The starry-eyed look Steve gives Barnes clearly conveys just how clever he thinks that is, and Sam surreptitiously rolls his eyes. No game whatsoever, either of them.
“I’ve never had a cake pop before,” Steve says, carefully picking up one of the treats and inspecting it curiously.
“Oh,” Barnes says, blinking at him. “Well, normally you’d eat them in one go, but these are a bit bigger than usual because of the shape of the shield, so you probably won’t be able to fit -”
The rest of his sentence sort of peters off into a stunned silence as Steve proceeds to stick a whole-ass giant cake pop in his mouth in one go, letting out an appreciative grunt as he chews and then swallows.
Barnes’s mouth goes slack. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes glazing over, and Sam cracks up. Again.
The cake pops are actually surprisingly good, despite their garish (sorry, Steve) appearance, and then it’s time to retreat and deliberate. As was to be expected, Steve has a crisis of conscience.
“I can’t vote for him just because he made my mom’s soda bread and he practically raised his baby sisters by himself and he cooks for his cat and he has pretty eyes, Sam!” he laments, voice muffled into his massive forearms. Sam makes the filming crew promise not to air this bit. It takes some doing, but finally Sam manages to convince Steve that Barnes’s food was simply the best. Better than all the rest. He even does a little Tina impression to get his point across, and that seems to do it.
When they announce the winner, Barnes smiles so wide it transforms his whole face and makes Steve melt into a puddle of Gü.
Sam has to nudge Steve again to get him to say his line, since he’s too busy mooning over Barnes to notice the autocue changing. “Ah, yes!” Steve says loudly. “First prize is a substantial sum of money, sponsored by Tony Stark, which we hope will go towards opening your own restaurant–"
“… and a weekend stay at Avengers Tower, also sponsored by Tony!”
Steve’s head whips around to him in surprise. Sam winks at him. “Including a private tour of the premises by none other than Captain America himself. Isn’t that right, Steven?”
A beat of silence, and then Steve.exe starts back up. "Right,” he nods, drawing out the word. “Yes. That’s right.” Sam pats his arm. Good man.
Stepping forward, Steve takes Barnes’ hand and shakes it slowly. “Congratulations, Bucky. I look forward to seeing you again soon," he says, adding, after a quick, bracing inhale, “and maybe when you visit, I can make my mom’s stew for you? If- if you like?”
Sam feels a surge of pride. Look at Steve go, being something almost in the vicinity of smooth.
Barnes laps it up, beaming at Steve. “I’d really love that,” he says in a low voice, still holding Steve's hand. “I’m sure you’re delicious.” His eyes widen. “It’s delicious. The stew – not- not-" Abruptly, Barnes stops babbling, then seems to come to a decision. “Oh, fuck it,” he mutters, and pulls Steve towards him, crashing their mouths together in a scorching kiss.
Over the noise of the assembled crowd's whoops and cheers, Sam gleefully calls, “And that, my friends, is a wrap!”
#stucky#stevebucky#steve rogers x bucky barnes#shrunkyclunks#meet cute#fluff#top chef#chef bucky barnes#my fic#my writing#ao3#sam wilson pov
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5 times Geralt failed to ask Jaskier out and 1 time he somehow managed
I.
Yen calls him immediately after he’s sent her the text. “What’s going on? You said it was an emergency?” She sounds slightly worried, and Geralt realizes that ‘Need help. Emergency.’ does sound like something to be worried about.
“I wanna ask Jaskier out.”
She lets out a long-suffering sigh, and he could swear he hears a ‘fucking finally’ muttered away from the receiver. “Cool, sure. So what do you need my help for?”
“Asking him out.”
She laughs softly. “Seriously? You’re a grown-ass man, surely you can ask someone out, right? You’ve done it before.”
He keeps quiet, and blesses all his lucky stars that she isn’t here to see shame rise red to his cheeks.
“Wait-“ He hears her let out a startled laugh. “You’ve never asked someone out before?”
His silence is confirmation enough.
“How the fuck did you manage to go your entire life without asking someone out?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Whatever. Alright, so, here’s what you gotta do-“
---
He’s waiting outside the doors of the cinema, bouncing on his heels a bit. Jaskier’s always a bit late – fashionably late, as Jaskier himself calls it – which is fine under any other circumstances, but the movie won’t wait for them, so it sets Geralt’s nerves on fire.
Finally, Jaskier shows up. With Triss and Sabrina in tow. To what was supposed to be a date.
“Hi!” Jaskier greets him brightly. “Hope it’s alright that I brought Triss and Sabrina. A movie is just much more fun when there are more people, you know? Hope you don’t mind?”
Geralt smiles tightly, and shakes his head. Later, after the movie, he rereads the text he sent Jaskier a few days earlier, and realizes he maybe didn’t really make it clear that he intended it as a date. Great. Something to remember for next time. Though he’s not gonna ask Jaskier on a movie date again. Firstly because Jaskier apparently likes it better when it’s not just the two of them, and also because they stumbled into their seats ten minutes late, and he doesn’t think he’s gonna survive that kind of embarrassment again.
II.
Okay, so clearly Yennefer’s plan didn’t work out. Maybe he should ask someone else.
It takes a while before Eskel picks up, but Geralt immediately relaxes when he hears his brother’s voice. “Yeah?”
“I wanna ask Jaskier out. I need your advice.”
Eskel breathes out something that sounds suspiciously like ‘finally’. It’s quiet for a while, as Geralt gives his brother time to think.
“Flowers,” Eskel eventually says. “Jaskier likes flowers, right? He seems like a flower kinda guy. So give him flowers.”
“Okay, thanks,” he says.
“By the way, can I borrow your drill? I’m making a shed and mine broke.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay, thanks. Bye.” Eskel hangs up, and Geralt drops his phone on his bed, thoughts mulling over how best to handle this.
---
He shuffles from one foot to another as he waits for Jaskier to open the door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet of different types of orange flowers. It had caught his eye at the florist, because of its obnoxious colours, and he figured Jaskier would love it.
Finally, the door opens. And immediately slams shut again, Jaskier’s high-pitched shriek muffled from behind the wood. “Fucking shit!”
Geralt frowns, and knocks on the door. “Jaskier? Are you alright?”
A muffled sneeze, followed by: “No! I’m allergic to flowers.” Another three sneezes, in quick succession. “Very.”
Great. Just his fucking luck. “Uh… r-right,” he stammers. “I’ll- I’ll throw them away, then.”
He apologizes for it later, and Jaskier tells him not to worry about it, though he’s hardly able to string the sentence together through several sneezes and wet sniffles, eyes red and swollen.
III.
Okay, so no movie date, and definitely no flowers. Maybe he should call someone else. He considers calling Lambert for a second, but he knows that would probably be the worst idea of his life – Lambert would either laugh in his face and hang up, or he would suggest something ridiculous like a bungee-jumping proposal or some shit like that.
Instead, he calls his dad. He’s always been able to rely on Vesemir for advice, so he supposes this time won’t be any different.
“What’s wrong?” his dad asks as soon as he picks up the phone.
Geralt frowns. “Nothing. I’m calling for advice.”
It’s quiet for a while. Then: “Alright, but disposing of a body is a lot harder than you think it is. Just take that into consideration before you go through with it. So first you gotta-”
“What? No, I wanna ask Jaskier out.”
Silence. “Oh. Who?”
“Jaskier. You met him last Christmas. Brown hair, blue eyes.”
“That loud-mouth that kept following you at the party?”
“Yes.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Geralt could swear he hears a muffled ‘thank the gods’, as if Vesemir is holding his hand over the receiver. “Try flowers.”
“Already tried that. Nearly killed him because he’s allergic.”
“Hmm. Take him to a nice restaurant.”
Geralt nods, and he realizes embarrassingly late that Vesemir can’t see him. “Alright. Thank you. But, what you said about disposing of a body, what-“ The line clicks. Vesemir’s hung up.
---
“Hey, there’s this new restaurant, a few blocks away. Di Mare, I think it’s called. Wanna go there, maybe next Saturday?”
Jaskier snorts at him, incredulous expression on his face. “That place? No thanks, way too fancy for me. What do you take me for, a rich person?”
“Jaskier, you’re literally royalty.”
“Nah,” Jaskier continues, ignoring him, “let’s just order take-out. Have a little movie night.”
Geralt nods, hope shining in his chest. “Yeah, sure.”
Jaskier grins at him, pulling his phone out. “Cool! I’ll text Yen and Triss, let them know. Been a while since we all hung out together.” Oh, fucking brilliant.
IV.
“Triss? I need your help.”
“Sure, what can I do?”
“I wanna ask Jaskier out.”
“Oh, yeah, Yen told me about that. So I figure you still haven’t managed?”
“Clearly.” He doesn’t mention the fact that so far, she’s come between his plans twice. He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she’s obviously not doing it on purpose.
It’s quiet for a while. “Uh… Flowers are a big no-no, he’s allergic to those.”
“Figured that out by now.”
“The hard way?”
“The hard way.”
“Yikes. Hmm. Restaurant?”
“No.”
“Fuck, then I’m fresh outta ideas, chief. Wait, no. There’s this new coffeeshop just around the corner. Jask loves coffee, no way you can go wrong with this one.” Geralt highly doubts it, but thanks her anyways and hangs up.
---
The barista makes heart-eyes at Jaskier the entire time they’re ordering, and when they go to sit down, Jaskier turns his cup and finds the guy’s phone number written on the side. He immediately pulls out his phone and sends the barista a text. Geralt tries and fails not to sulk.
V.
“Hey.”
He blinks, then frowns at his five year-old neighbour who’s blocking the exit of the apartment building, looking up at him with a glint in her eyes that she always gets when she’s about to drop snowballs through people’s mailboxes.
“… Hi.”
“Heard you were trying to ask your boyfriend out,” Ciri says.
“He’s not my boyfriend. And how’d you know that?”
“Gran-gran says the walls are thin and you talk loud when you’re on the phone.”
“… Okay.”
It’s quiet for a while, her gaze intent on him the entire time, and he starts to feel uncomfortable, shuffling on his feet. Sure, the effect may be mollified by the fact that she’s missing her front teeth, but she’s still very unnerving.
“… Ciri, can I leave n-“
“You should ask him out.”
“That’s why I’m trying t-“
“Just ask.”
“Ciri-“
“Give him alcohol. Grown-ups like alcohol. Then ask.”
He sighs. “If I promise to do that, can you please let me pass so I can go to work?”
She holds up her hand, pinkie finger extended. “Pinkie promise.”
He hooks his little finger through hers. “Pinkie promise. Now can I please go?”
She nods solemnly, and steps to the side. He’s halfway down the stairs when she calls out to him: “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”
He looks back, sees her staring at him, face blank and grave, and he turns back, getting out of there as fast as he can. What the fuck?
---
Geralt’s walking to Jaskier’s door, two cups of coffee in his hands. Sure, the giving-Jaskier-alcohol part of Ciri’s plan wasn’t the greatest, but he couldn’t deny that simply asking Jaskier on a date might be effective and solid, because it’s so simple.
Except, just his luck, as he walks to Jaskier’s door, Jaskier barges out of his apartment, and smashes into Geralt, coffee spilling over both of them.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Jaskier exclaims, throwing his hands in the arms exasperatingly. He sighs, his foul mood evident on his face. “Guys and coffee seems to be a deadly combination for me, lately.”
“I guess it didn’t work out with the barista, then?” He somehow manages to keep his hope out of his voice.
Jaskier sighs and shakes his head, fishing a paper tissue out of his backpack to wipe at the front of his shirt. “Yeah, no. Total hipster, and he couldn’t stop talking about himself. Like, yada-yada-yada, you like old music, we get it, now can we please talk about me?” He sighs, seems to give up on saving his shirt. “Guess I’ll have to go back inside to get a new one,” he mutters. “Anyways, why are you here? Is there something going on?”
Geralt swallows, shakes his head. “No, just wanted to bring you some coffee. Sorry about uh…” he waves his hand a bit “that. Gotta go.”
He rushes out of there, ignoring Jaskier’s inquiring “Geralt?” behind him.
+ I
“So you’ve finally turned to me for council,” Lambert says in lieu of greeting when he answers the phone.
Geralt sighs.
“I want to hear you say it, Ger-Ger. I’ll help you but I need to hear you say it.”
“Don’t call me Ger-Ger.”
“Say it.”
He sighs again, a headache starting to form behind his eyes. “Fine. I need your help.”
He can practically hear Lambert’s self-satisfied smirk. “Lucky for you, I’ve got just the idea…”
For some reason, Geralt doesn’t exactly feel lucky.
---
The first pebble he throws misses its target, and he cringes as it nearly hits Jaskier’s downstairs neighbor’s window. He tries again. This time it hits its mark, but there’s no sign of life from Jaskier’s apartment. He tries again. No response. And again. No response. He throws three pebbles against the window in quick succession.
Finally, a light turns on and Jaskier opens the window, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Geralt? It’s one in the morning, what-“
He looks down at his phone, frantically searching for the song that Lambert recommended- fucking Lambert. He never should’ve agreed to this, and he’s going to kill his brother once this is over. Finally, he finds the right song. It’s the same one as in that one movie Lambert told him about where this guy held a boombox over his head or some shit – ‘something Jaskier will have definitely watched’, his brother had reassured him. Finally, he finds the right song, and holds his phone over his head, volume as loud as possible, and-
“WANT A BREAK FROM THE ADS?-”
Geralt closes his eyes in horror as the ad continues playing, several lights turning on in the windows of the apartment building. Jaskier on the other hand, is- gone.
Geralt frowns, turns the ad off, and looks at Jaskier’s window, painfully empty. Suddenly, the door to the building opens, and Jaskier comes staggering out, wheezing and clutching his stomach as he makes his way towards Geralt.
“That-“ he says between giggles “that was the funniest and most adorable shit I’ve ever seen.” He hiccups, starts laughing uncontrollably again. “What…?”
“Lambert’s idea.”
Jaskier laughs again, desperately holding on to Geralt’s shoulder as to not keel over. “Of- of course it’s his idea, oh gods-“ He hiccups, finally calming down a bit. “Isn’t this from that one movie?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t it a romantic movie?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you trying to ask me out, Geralt?”
“… Yeah.”
Jaskier smiles softly. “I accept. But please- next time, you can just ask. There’s no need to go through all this trouble.”
Geralt resists the urge to smack his palm against his face. “Alright, I’ll remember that for next time.”
Jaskier looks back, sees multiple lights on in the windows, sees some neighbors frowning down at them angrily. “Better wrap this up or they’re gonna call the cops on us.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against Geralt’s cheek. “Goodnight, Geralt.” He turns around and makes his way back to the apartment complex.
“Goodnight, Jaskier.”
#the witcher#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#drabble#5 + 1 things#fluff#crack#everyone in this is a chaotic bastard#and i regret nothing#literally no one asked for this#but i do what i want babey#feral hours#fuck you spotify ads#modern au#the thing ciri says is shakespeare btw lmao
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Why do you think Tomarry would work? I see a lot of people hating on it and the only response I ever see is that they come from similar backgrounds or people just like enemies to lovers. Also which horcrux do you think Harry would go best with (including Voldemort)
So, this is probably a more complicated question than you intended, but that’s because I live in bizarre head canon lands that few ever dare venture towards.
With that, let’s get started.
But What Do You Really Ship, Muffin?
First, it probably bears saying that I’m not really a Tomarry shipper. I know, I’ve written more than one Tomarry story, so if that’s not Tomarry what is? Well, remember that those Tomarry pairing tags are a filthy lie. October I committed the grievous sin of breaking up the Tomarry and throwing Tom at Harry’s mother. Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus is barely a Harry Potter fic in any capacity, and while the ship is the driving force of the fic, it’s also this nebulous, distant, thing that really shows up only in strange side stories where I try to make people laugh. When Harry Met Tom is probably the closest that I take seriously, but I also intentionally subvert all your typical Tomarry tropes for my own enjoyment.
The only Tomarry story I’d say I’ve ever actually written is “The Burning Taste of Fire Whisky”. It’s a very popular story, sadly perhaps my most popular on Ao3, but I actually loathe it entirely.
A lot of the time I feel like I just happen to have a Tomarry shirt on and then I suddenly became a subject matter expert. If you want the Tomarry opinions from real Tomarry people, I’m probably not the best person to ask. In fact, if you want really any standard answer about Harry Potter anything, I’m not the best person to ask.
Now, I’m not just saying this to be a hipster but to sort of give some background for why I’m going to give the answer I’m going to give and why it’s going to be 100% different from everyone else’s and yes, sometimes, I do think I came from Mars.
Will the Real Tomarry Please Stand Up?
So with that, the bottom line is: taking canon as JKR intended, completely at face value, Tomarry doesn’t work at all. This is because JKR fully intends a very flat, one-dimensional, and frankly quite boring Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle’s evil, Tom Riddle was born evil, Tom Riddle was evil in the womb because of rape. He is completely and utterly irredeemable and understands nothing of love.
Well, that sort of sinks the ship right out of the harbor, doesn’t it? A Tom Riddle incapable of love is one incapable of growth, especially in a romantic focused story. If you try to write it you just get weird sociopathic whump porn where Tom probably whips Harry in a closet somewhere.
Added onto this we get that, despite what she put down on paper, Harry is supposed to be a straight man. That aside, he’s also a righteous man whose understanding of things like love and friendship mean he’d never sully himself with gross Tom Riddle. Ew, what are you people thinking?
Well, what if we take canon just mostly as JKR intended? What if we just look at the characters the way she actually wrote them versus what she was trying to do? Still no dice.
Tom might now be capable of love, be a far more engaging character who can go somewhere, and be pulled out of a pit of rage and despair by someone but that someone ain’t Harry.
First, while I firmly believe Harry is gay (gay, not bisexual, compare his descriptions of Cho/Ginny to Tom Riddle/Sirius Balck/Cedric Diggory/Charlie Weasley, that boy pants after Tom Riddle and Cho’s kiss is “wet”) he’s also a much worse person and much dumber character than JKR intended. It’s really the first that damns the pairing.
I have a whole giant post on how Harry’s a little yikes but the long and short of it is that while Harry thinks he understands friendship and love he’s also someone who will cut out his friends at a moment’s notice if he feels remotely slighted, uses and sacrifices them for his own ends, gleefully uses unforgiveable curses when given the opportunity, and is the kind of guy who would cut someone up in the bathroom, leave them to bleed to death, and only really feel bad about it when it seems he might get in trouble for it.
This Harry ending up even with a Tom who could potentially be redeemed would more likely lead to, well, weird psychopathic whump porn where Harry tortures Tom in his basement to make him pay for all the horrible things he’s done while Harry claims he’s the most moral person ever because his mother loved him.
So, yeah, no Tomarry for you.
But Wait, Didn’t You Say You Believed in Tomarry?
What I believe in are archetypes.
Remove what Harry’s supposed to be, remove what I think he actually is (one maladjusted, violent, dude with a whole lot of anger issues), let’s make Harry what perhaps JKR didn’t even know she wanted: one of those rare fundamentally good heroes who warps an entire story with the strength of their inner nobility.
Harry Potter is meant to be a story about love and friendship. Now, it’s not actually, and we sort of end with Harry being Jesus and none of us are sure why. Except that he apparently forgives Dumbledore and Snape for brainwashing him to be a kamikaze agent. They’re the bravest men he knows. But let’s pretend it actually is a story about love and friendship.
To me, the strongest story of love we could possibly have had in this world is the redemption of Tom Riddle. Here is a man who was supposed to have been irredeemable since birth, he has done many horrific and unforgiveable things, grew up in extreme hardship in a society that spits on everything he ever was, and is mired in bitterness, despair, and rage. Beneath all that, Tom Riddle has given up hope in the world and is now content to burn it down himself.
Harry, through the nobility of his spirit and integrity of his character, somehow managing to redeem Tom Riddle is not only a fascinating story but a very good one at its core. The fact that they are tied together by destiny as well as tragedy, that Harry houses a shard of Tom’s soul (and I do so love horcruxes), only makes it more so.
This is the kind of story that carries epics, and that is why I gravitate towards it.
Now, do I change Harry up to do so? Good god, yes. I wouldn’t say any Harry Potter I have written is anything close to the Harry we know from canon. Some are closer than others, but they always in some way deviate. That said, from what I’ve seen almost nobody writes the actual Harry we remember from canon, so this is a very standard practice I can get away with, without too many people calling foul.
Ultimately ending in tragedy or in the full redemption of Tom: either works with these base characterizations and the world is your oyster.
What About All Those Other Arguments?
I’m not going to get into this too much except that I wouldn’t argue Tomarry works for the reasons you list. At all.
On the similar backgrounds, the fact is Harry and Tom don’t have similar backgrounds, JKR just says they do because she likes that trope (and so do many of the readers).
Harry and Tom have dark hair, they both came from abusive homes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Upon entering the wizarding world Harry is treated very very very differently from Tom Riddle.
Harry, grows up in this weird sort of pseudo poverty where he dresses in rags because the Dursley’s hate him but he never actually has to worry about money. When he gets to the wizarding world he can afford everything he wants. He can buy a new wand, he can buy new supplies, he can buy all the candy off the trolly cart. Money’s not an object to Harry, is barely even a concept.
Tom Riddle is presumably on scholarship and money is everything to him. He buys a new wand but likely all his clothes and books are second hand. He can’t buy whatever candy he wants, probably can’t afford gifts for his peers, Tom is very aware of the haves and have nots.
Harry similarly never has to worry about a career. He never gets that far, fearing for his life so much, but the fact is that Harry has enough money that he doesn’t actually need to work. More, who would turn down the great Harry Potter? He wants to be an auror, is afraid he might not qualify, but it’s not really desperate.
Tom Riddle is to the world an impoverished muggle born. He tries for the Defense position and is turned down mostly because Dumbledore threw shade. Dumbledore tries to make it seem like Tom desperately wanted to work in this weird shop in London’s magical back alley, but probably that was the only position Tom could get (everything Dumbledore ever says, especially in those pensieve lessons, must be taken with a large grain of salt). Everything else goes to friends, family, and purebloods.
Adding to this, Harry has this glowing reputation. Now, Harry might not like it, he might want to be just Harry but the fact is that everyone has heard of him and most people worship the ground he walks on. Doors are open to him everywhere. His first introduction to the wizarding world is from a man who loves him and gushes about Harry as a baby.
Tom Riddle is someone with a muggle last name, who comes from a muggle orphanage, in other words he is nobody from nowhere. (For reasons I won’t get into here I find it very doubtful Tom ever revealed he was the heir of Slytherin until he became Voldemort and let Tom Riddle fade into obscurity). His first introduction to the wizarding world is some asshole lighting all his stuff on fire because the matron talked shit about him.
Harry wants to stay at Hogwarts because the Dursleys are abusive. Yes, this is terrible, but Tom wants to stay because Nazis are bombing London and Dippet says, “So sorry, Tom, no exceptions. Enjoy those luffas!” Harry’s concerns are never treated with the same disdain.
To make a long story short, they do not have similar backgrounds, at all. To say they do is utterly laughable and not much better than saying “they both have dark hair, they have so much in common!”
They both came from abusive homes, yes, but even the nature of those homes were very different and when they went to Hogwarts they were worlds apart.
... So much for not getting into it, eh?
As for Enemies to Lovers, well, it’s a trope and people enjoy it but it’s not my jam. I could go into why, but I think I’ve said enough.
Which Horcrux Do You Think Harry Would Go Best With?
We see so little of the individual horcruxes I’m not sure I can really take a stab at this. I sort of just make up their personalities as it suits me every time I write them.
With that I suppose I’m partial to the one in Harry’s head? Given that he has a front row seat to Harry, has seen Voldemort’s tragic demise, I think he’s in the best position to end up with Harry in a meaningful manner.
Especially as, if you think about it, he could represent the very last of Tom Riddle’s humanity. The single shard of humanity that remained in him until the bitter end.
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Shigaraki - Love You For Everything I Hate You For (fic)
A/N: Well damn… Crusty man gave me some feels these days, so have this smut-filled fic, ya filthy animals!
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The rain came down pouring like a waterfall. Heavy and accompanied by the loud thunder. Rain soaking through ones clothes, only to grip them tightly with their ghostly cold fingers. The smell of the earth and sea overpowering mingled scents of animals and humankind alike.
But the outside world could not reach you, no. Where the birds outside were clinging together in their small nests, you were engulfed by the warmth of your lover’s long limbs. Trapping you closely in his lap. Your legs wrapped around his torso, your hands bound together behind your back, your face buried in his neck. Warmth spread through your body as a result of your actions. The need to comply to his demands bigger than the need to beg for your own selfish wishes.
Tomura’s fingers speeding across the buttons on his controller. Concentration in his eyes and victory on his mind. He would stop at nothing to defeat this final boss. He had spent hours upon hours, trying to collect and level up all his rare armor items. Just so he could end this boss.
“Remember what I told you, you needy bitch,” he spoke directly in your ear, “you have to make me hard as fucking steel before I finish this guy off or else you won’t get anything stuffed inside that greedy cunt of yours.”
A pitiful whine left you. The sound reverberating against the damaged skin of his neck. Grinding your crotch deeper against him, hoping to create any type of friction for the two of you. For him, to get stimulated; for you, to find some sort of release. Both are easier said than done. ‘Cause when Tomura games, he barely acknowledges anything or anyone else. Meaning that getting him to fuck you was a near impossible task. His mind completely elsewhere.
The task he gave you nearly an hour and half ago was to get him stiff as a rod before his finishes his final battle. If you did, you would be rewarded by getting ravished beyond this world. If you failed, you would have to sit on this couch for the rest of the evening with a vibrator attached to your clit. Only problem was you are not allowed to cum. If you did cum, Father would get a new job besides shielding Tomura’s face.
“Come on, I thought you were desperate for my cock. I’m almost done with them. I know you can do better, my little whore.” His words somewhat degrading you, only fueled your resolve to complete your task.
Your hips rolling against the outline of his tip. Still only half hard, but with his size he already looked like he could split you in half. Whenever he would use your mouth, he always made sure to have you gagging and nearly choking you to death. And you loved every second of it.
The peaks of your naked nipples rub deliciously against his shirt. Your teeth seek out his earlobe, tugging hard at them while you let out a long moan. You had to step up your game as you were quickly running out of time. Digging your heels against his back you pulled him closer. With a little ‘pop’ you let go of his lobe.
“I am, I’m only hungry for your fat cock,” you groaned out.
Delirious need now runs through your veins as you think of the feeling of having him inside you. You have done worse, more humiliating things before just get him in bed. You didn’t mind, though. You know what he felt deep inside. Even if you were on your knees, sore from rubbing against the carpet, tears streaming your face, throat hoarse from screaming and gagging, and chest and face covered in cum. You were the only one worthy enough to blow his load on.
Stretching you arms a bit, your fingertips search. Slowly tracing the area beneath you. A hitch of breath from the player in front of you telling you they had found their target. Finger tips grazing the underside of his balls. Gently fondling them. A hardness forming against your thigh. And that’s when you strike.
Thumb and pointer finger pinching on his ball sack and give it a quick tug. The sound of the controller dropped behind you. A low groan coming from his lips. See, you weren’t the only one in this relationship who enjoyed a little well-intentioned pain.
Your vision changes in a flash. You eyes now directed at the ceiling above you. Thrown on the bed, the only view Tomura now had of you was a panting and bound mess. Hair spread around you, cheeks flushed, legs open wide.
“Look at you,” he says breathlessly, “haven’t even touched you and you’re already soaking the fucking bed. Thought you could probably get away with pinching my balls like that, huh?”
Leaving one pinky up, his hand comes down to smack the inside of your thigh. First the left one, then the right one.
“Although you did get what you wanted.”
You dare to sneak a little peak at him. The onslaught on your thighs continue. Tomura slightly hunched over to get a good look at your pussy. The tent in his boxers telling you he’s enjoying this as much as you are. His hand coming closer to your heat, still slapping your skin a delicious cherry pink. Spots of blue slowly forming, only making you even wetter.
“Can’t even let me play my game without wanting me to fuck you, pathetic slut.”
The smacking and his words bring tears to your eyes. And he was right. The poor man can’t even play a nice afternoon of Diablo III without you trying to suck him off. Your desire for him just to heavy to bear. The only remedy was getting your brains get fucked out of you.
“Answer me, slut!”
“Yes, yes, you’re right. I’m a pathetic slut! Please, I need it, Tomura, I need- Ah ah aaahaa!”
Your breath hitches in your throat. His hand finally came down where you needed it. The walls of your pussy squeezing around nothing. Lungs sucking back oxygen, but only momentarily. A hand wrapping around your throat, preventing your body from getting the air it needs. Mouth falling open, you can only give in to the feeling of pleasure you’re about to experience.
A little further down the bed you can hear Tomura shuffle around, probably taking off his boxers. When his face comes into your view, you can already feel the heaviness of his cock resting atop your stomach. His balls rub against your clit and you try to chase the movement. But that only earns you a long pinch on your nipple with his free hand. Your eyes focus back on his face and see a devious grin.
“If you wanna act like a cum hungry bitch, then fine. I’ll fucking breed you and I won’t stop ‘til I say we’re done,” He spat out.
Hoarse and whimpering, you strain your voice: “Yesyesyesyes, please Tomu, ye-e-ee-es.”
He aligns himself at your entrance while coating his dick with your overflowing juices. From all he’s done to you before, the moment he slips in there isn’t any resistance. Walls greedily suck him closer and closer, until he bottoms out. One hand still on your throat, the other pushing back your legs into a mating press, he takes a moment to collect himself. His fingers slightly ease up on your airway before pressing down again. Sure, he loves choke play, but he has no interest in fucking you when you’re unconscious.
“Greedy, greedy little cunt I’ve found myself in,” he pants out.
Drawing back slowly, only to slam back in hard. Setting up a brutal pace, not caring about slowing down any time soon. He leans his weight onto you, his hot breath fanning across your drooling face. Small little whimpers are drowned out by the sound of his hips slamming into yours. His eyes never leave your face, wanting to see every tiny detail as he takes total control over your body. How you tongue lulls to the side of your mouth, your drool smeared across your cheek, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes roll back.
He loves it. He revels in the feeling of having you beneath him at his complete mercy. Seeing sides of you no one else ever sees. And they won’t. He’ll make sure of that. Only he is allowed to see your pretty face twisted in the throws of pleasure. Only he can touch you like that. Him and him alone.
Feeling your walls contracting, trapping him like a vice. He can feel the head of his cock slam up against the spongy part that leaves you speechless every single time. He swears he’s in heaven. Fucking the love of his life, his perfect little cum whore, within an inch of her life. The feeling of dominance it gives him is addicting. Your body is addicting. You are addicting. And he’ll be damned if he ever has to part from you.
“Think you’ve earned it to be filled with my seed,” he barely manages to get out.
You don’t respond. You can’t. All you can do is try to do is follow his cock as he uses you like cocksleeve. Wrapped around him forever.
“Fucking right, you’ve earned it. My good girl, spread open just for me… Take it, take what I allow you to have.”
The words of small praise and demand send you over the ledge. Falling in a white, blinding bliss of euphoria as his hand releases your throat. Your lungs filling with air as you’re cumming on Tomura’s cock. Your cunt sucking him deeper and deeper ‘til he can’t move anymore. He ruts against your soaking wet hole to chase his own release.
His hands grip the back of your knees. Leaving bruises in their place as he fills you up with his seed, all the way to the brim before it spills back out of you. Chants of your name spill out his mouth like it’s the only thing he can remember.
Slowing down and regaining his breath, he pulls out of you. Strings of mixed juices still connecting you two. As he lays down, he rolls you on your side to unbind your wrists. Throwing away the panties he used to tie you with, he pulls you against him.
With sleep at the forefront of your mind, you hug him lazily. The beating of Tomura’s heart slowing down aswell, as sleep tries to overtake him. With a fond smile on his smile and you in his arms, he allows himself to drift off.
Two bodies, joined together as they lay with the sound of the ending rain.
Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @aizawascumslut @hipster-merchant-of-death
#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura#michiiee writes#bnha fic#bnha villains#bnha shigaraki#bnha smut#bnha tomura#tomura smut#shigaraki fanfic#bnha fanfic
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I’m sorry for leaving you
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Requested by anon “nice! okay i was thinking reader is number three and has allison’s powers is there instead of her and reader is also an avenger and she tried to rumour natasha back after her death and basically goes crazy cuz it doesn’t work so she leaves and bucky and sam go look for her after endgame? sorry if that’s too much!”
A/N- I made Natasha, readers love interest hope you don’t mind :)
Warning- talks of death, angst and fluff
———-
“Okay what are your thoughts on this house?” Natasha points out as she scrolls down and studies the pictures, “I mean it’s nice, it’s surrounded by a green beautiful forest and has a nice blue lake close by.”
You lean in and scan the file, “it’s nice, but,”
Natasha’s eyes drift to you and follow you as you move forward to be closer beside her, “but what?” She queries.
You meet her gaze and continue cautiously, “do you want to move? I mean are you ready to leave this all behind.”
Natasha sighs and sits back in her chair, she rests her hands on your legs that were resting over hers and runs her fingers through her hair before answering. “It’s been five years, I think it’s time. And I’m not giving up, I can work away from there, but you know I think it’s time to try a peaceful life in a place where I don’t have to worry about fighting.”
The corner of your lips tug into a small smile and you move back to admire her from afar. “It sounds nice, I like that.”
Natasha turns and mirrors your smile, albeit hers soon turned smug. “And if anything, you can end up just rumoring me, number ten.”
You scoff and shoot her a pointed look to correct her, “number three.”
Natasha giggles and shakes her head, “I still don’t get that, how come your father couldn’t bother to give you a real name?”
You shrug, “easier to go by numbers I guess, plus it distinguished us by how powerful we all are.”
“Well,” Natasha clicks her tongue, “I think we both deserve a more peaceful life. With no number three, no need to use powers to protect ourselves….unless someone tries to break in or something, but who would break in a house in the middle of the forest?”
“Someone very dedicated.” You quip.
Natasha narrows her gaze and just scoffs, she shakes her head and keeps going. “Regardless, is that the house?”
You gaze back at the screen and nod, feeling a small smile on your face and feeling pure, utter joy within your heart. “That’s the house.”
~
“I heard rumor,” your voice echoes and tears sting your eyes, “that Natasha Romanoff came back to life.”
The cloaked red figure keeps looking at you with his hallowed eyes, expressing nothing but the same blank, expressionless face. “A soul for a soul,” his voice echoed around the crisp air. “No exchanges. What’s done is done.”
Your bottom lip trembles and tears roll down your cheeks. Angry and sad tears alike. There's a void within you. Even after everyone came back; your best friends, comrades, and family, there was a void because the woman you loved, your soulmate was gone. After all you went through to achieve everyone’s return, she was the one gone. When you were about to live a life she wanted, a life you both chose to finally have, she was gone.
Now with life back to normal, all you wanted was her back. That’s all you wanted. That’s why you were fighting so hard, why you traveled through space—You knew the pain was detectable in your voice, it made your power stronger, but why wasn’t it working?
You drew in a deep, shaky breath and repeat it again, you seeth it out with all the strength and pain laced through your voice and power. “I heard a rumor! That you brought Natasha Romanoff back to life!”
The cloaked red figure floats towards you and bellows, “No!” Before he vanishes like smoke. You stare at the spot where he was and only see grey cracked stone, you see ominous fog and just plainly nothing else but emptiness that matched the feeling in your heart.
However the emptiness in your heart felt painful in every possible way. It made you feel weak, it made you fall to your knees and sob and shout out in a painful cry. “GAAAHH!”
The pain was so raw and mind numbing, the emptiness, the knowledge of failure changed something within you the moment you arrived back to earth. Something that concerned your best friends the moment they saw you.
“Y/N, where the hell have you been?”
You drift your eyes to Sam and stay silent for a while, noticing Bucky come up behind him with a more gentle, concerning gaze. “Y/N…”
“I’m fine guys,” you assure them, “I was just clearing my mind, I was—”
“In space?!” Sam quips. “You were clearing your mind in space?”
You nod, “yeah, what can I say I like seeing the stars up close.”
Sam scoffs and you see his upcoming remark in his eyes, and you stop him before he could utter it outloud. “I’m back now, that’s all that matters,” you pause and show them the best assuring smile you could manage. Even if you hid the pain within, you manage it. “Now, I’m just going to go to my family’s home to just...take a break,” you sigh, “I’ll return soon.”
You pat Sam's shoulder and offer Bucky a warm, assuring smile that didn’t convince him, but he had no choice to take it. Even as he saw you leave, it bugged him.
But he didn’t question it until weeks of you gone turned into months and then a whole year. Sam was more hesitant, and just told Bucky to leave you to mourn your longtime girlfriend. But Bucky was worried and couldn’t just leave you to suffer alone. He knew you had a family, he knew that your siblings and you were close, but he just needed to assure himself that you were really fine.
“This is the spot.” Sam let Bucky know as he parked the car in front of a tall building.
“Are you sure?” Bucky queried as he looked out the window, “she said small house.”
Sam leaned over and studied the huge building. “Well the file said this is her “small house.”
Bucky hums and gets out, tilting his head back to take in the home, and playfully remark to Sam, “your apartment can fit here like a hundred times over.”
Sam scoffs and just continues towards the door, knocking a couple times to then wait until something opens it.
“Hello, this is the Hargreeves residence, how may I help you?”
Bucky blinks in disbelief and looks down at the talking animal. “Is that a monkey?”
Sam narrowed his gaze on the monkey and nodded slowly, “yep. But why should it matter, we’ve met a talking raccoon and talking tree.”
“I’m an ape, but that doesn’t matter, Is there something you need?” The money asked once more.
“Yeah,” Sam answered, “we’re looking for someone. Y/N Hargreeves.”
“Oh, Ms. Hargreeves is not here.”
“No?” Bucky said in worried tone. “She said she was coming here. We’re her friends, we're concerned for her.”
“You and I both,” the monkey shared, “she came here once to reunite with her siblings, but she left soon after and never came back.”
Sam and Bucky both looked at one another and shared a confused look.
“But,” the monkey continued, “her brothers may know where she is. One is here, so if you gentlemen want to wait here while I fetch him that’d be fine.”
Bucky and Sam share another look and this time silently come to an agreement and follow the monkey in the suit inside a long living room with a portrait of your siblings and you over the fireplace.
“What a small house,” Sam remarked sarcastically as he stopped in front of the portrait.
Bucky looked up at the same thing and smiled as he noticed you in a mask and a school uniform. “Cute.”
“Rich.” Sam quipped as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“And also my fathers pride and joy,” a voice said behind Bucky and Sam, earning their immediate attention and making them turn around to face a slim man that looked almost like a misplaced hipster. He waved his hands and they noticed tattoos on the palms and a grin on his face. “Hello. What a surprise and an honor to have two of the best looking Avengers come to my humble home. I’m Klaus Hargreeves, one of y/n’s brothers.”
“Sam,” Bucky introduced the man next to him before introducing himself, “Bucky.”
Klaus smiled wider and had a child-like glow in his eyes before walking to the bar and speaking what he knew. “Pogo says you’re looking for my beloved sister. Drinks?”
Sam nodded and approached the bar, while Bucky only followed behind to decline and say his reason.“Yeah, we’re worried, she said she was going to return and she hasn’t yet. We keep trying to call her, but nothing. We just wanted to know if she’s okay.”
Klaus sighs and puts the alcohol away, he props his hands on the edge of the bar and his face turns more serious. “She only came home once. She left that same day and never came back.”
“Do you know where she is?” Sam probed.
Klaus meets his gaze and nods. “I do.”
“Can you take us to her?”
Klaus gets water and drinks it as he moves away and avoids the question until Bucky asks again. “I’ve been told not to.”
“Do you atleast know how she is?” Bucky insisted.
“No.”
Sam sighs and meets Bucky's gaze to share a weirded out and concerned look.
“And she's blocked me out too. She doesn’t want to speak to anyone, she said to let her grieve in peace and as someone who has also lost their soulmate I understand her.”
Bucky scoffs, “she’s in pain, she needs us, just like she needs all of you. We can’t just leave her to deal with it alone. I understand pain and it can be devastating. We need to check on her. She can’t be alone.”
Klaus hesitates but he decides to give in and give them what they want. “Fine, I’ll take you to the town she’s living in.”
And he does as he says, he drives several hours to a small town where you’re supposed to be in, but stops at the first street and turns back to both Sam and Bucky. “This is far as we go, beyond here we have to ask someone. She just told me which town, not which house.”
Sam groans in annoyance, but he and Bucky begin to follow after Klaus, searching for someone in this town who would give them the time of day, but none of them gave them the time of day. They would simply look at the trio and stare for a few seconds before walking as if nothing. And usually Bucky didn’t like to gloat. Anymore, but he knew that Sam and him were well known around the world. Someone always recognized him.
Not even kids came up to either of them. It’s like they were ghosts. All women ghosts in fact now that he really got to noticing his surroundings.
Until the wrong people came up. A police unit. “You’re not allowed to be here. We have to ask you to leave now.”
“What?” Klaus squeaked, making the policewoman look to him and stare at him for a long time, not saying anything, like if she was searching her own mind for a response.
“Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes are not allowed within the perimeters of this town.”
Klaus sighs in relief and grabs his chest once the woman looks away. “Oof, thank god, I am allowed here. Now lovely ladies do you happen to know where my sister is? You see it’s an emergency. Our mother has died! She needs to know, please.” He begged dramatically.
The policewoman calls something in her radio and then tells them to wait but they point their guns at Sam and Bucky, insisting they get out. Just as a fight was going to break out, someone’s voice came out of the shadows of a nearby alleyway. “Klaus, brother, why did you bring them here?”
Klaus shrugs, “because we want to talk.”
You scoff and slowly walk out and maneuver through the crowd of policewoman. “About our robot mother dying? What happened?” You play along
“A heart attack, because she was devastated about your disappearance.”
You shake four head and glance at Bucky and Sam before looking back at Klaus. “Well it’s a good thing she doesn’t have an actual heart. So she’s fine. Now why are they here?”
“Why are you?” Bucky quipped, stepping up towards you.
“Running a town.”
“Full of woman?” Sam snapped. “That look like they’re all mind controlled?”
You sigh and shove your hands in your coat pockets. “They’re blackwidows, like Natasha was. I’m just helping them.”
“Helping them by controlling them?”
You simply shrug and frown as you look at the floor. “I’m helping them.”
“By taking them hostage?” Bucky rebutted. “Natasha wouldn’t want that. Let them go to live their lives, come back home with us, they’re not going to fill the void you have inside you. Don’t be that person.”
You clench your jaw and ball your hand. “That person? I’m just helping them, they’re the closest thing I have to Natasha. They’re going to help me bring her back.”
“Oh, I see,” Sam sighs, “so they’re your army? Your perfectly trained soldiers. What are you going to do? What’s your plan? Invade the planet where she died? Natasha is gone! She wouldn’t want this for you.”
You step back and feel your eyes sting. But you don’t let yourself cry, instead you glare at them and just as you were going to rumor them both, Klaus stepped in front of them and quickly blurted out. “Don’t. She’s here.”
“What?” You snapped as you snap your attention towards him. “What do you mean? Don’t mess with me Klaus.”
“I’m not,” Klaus quickly explained himself, raising his hands and looking to an empty spot beside him. “I got to connect with her.”
“What?” Bucky questioned too.
Your eyes widen and you leave your lips parted as Klaus begins to talk for her. “She says that she loves you, that she watches over you every second of every single day.” Your bottom lip trembles and tears once again fill your eyes. “She says you’re acting stupid right now and that if she were here she’d punch you.” You cover your mouth and sob softly. “She says that she doesn’t want this for you and she’s sorry for leaving you.”
You fall to your knees and keep looking at the space where Klaus was looking at, Bucky and Sam listen in disbelief, but Bucky manages to come to your side to try and comfort you.
“She wants you to go back home, be with people you love and just live life. Either being a hero or just simply living a life. All she wants is you to be happy, knowing she’s also going to be by your side. She loves you.”
“I’m sorry,” you cry, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted this, I just wanted you back, please..forgive me.”
“She does.”
“I love you,” you mutter, “and I miss you every single day.”
Klaus walks towards you and crouch’s down in front of you, cupping your cheek and offering you a kind smile. “She loves you too.”
A wobbly smile grows on your lips and you know by the look on Klaus’s face she was gone again. However you didn’t hesitate to do as she had said, you did the right thing with the Black Widows. Even if it was painful to think of Natasha dying, you let them go.
“So what now? You mumble as you look at the three men in front of you, swaying back and forth on your heels.
“Depends on you,” Bucky tells you, “we can use you out there, but if you want to go home, you can. We were worried for you, we just wanted you to be okay.”
“I will be,” you sigh as you hook your arm around Klaus’s. “Soon.”
“Well we can go back to your huge house,” Sam suggested, “I saw some expensive alcohol in that bar and I’m down to go there.”
You chuckle softly, “fine. Let’s go home. For a while, but after, I’m getting back to work. I know you boys can’t be without me.”
Sam snorts. “Sure whatever you say Number Twenty.”
“It’s Number Three!”
#marvel#avengers#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#Natasha Romanoff imagines#natasha romanoff x reader#Natasha Romanoff x you#Natasha Romanoff request#avengers imagines#avengers imagine#avengers fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#Bucky Barnes#Sam Wilson#Klaus Hargreaves#the umbrella academy Au
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They are discussing it
Leave Winterfell to me and the ghosts. Actually made this boat for the commercial that looked like a giant food tray. Dark rich cabinets in the master bathroom pairs well with the neutral color of the smooth, stone countertop and dual sinks, as well as the tile used in the walk in glass shower.. There's the creepy snigger of her (now ex) stepfather as he spied on her in the bath, forcing her to flee home at 17. Dementia can last between eight and 10 years, or even longer. Located on the hipster Melrose Ave, Sportie LA has pretty much every shoe and style, including exclusive limited editions. Hill witnessed "The Decision" that adidas fgstirred up controversial emotions throughout the country, but says he still kept his initial opinion of "The King.". Those are big shoes to fill but my goals will be the same as his get on base, be a table setter and make
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Third Time’s a Charm - Tim Drake x Reader
A/N: This is set in the YJverse and you’re Batgirl since Barbara is now Oracle
Summary: M’gann and Conner attemp to play matchmaker on you and Tim Drake.
The weekend at Mount Justice was awfully colorless. No missions, no plans, no fun for everyone. Everyone who had a significant other were lucky enough to spend time with each other, making things seem less lifeless at the Cave. Artemis was teaching Wally to shoot, Dick was constantly flirting with Oracle, Beast boy was out with Perdita, and so on. The rest who didn’t have significant others decided to entertain each other, playing games.
For M’gann and Conner, being a motherly and fatherly figure, stood beside each other against the kitchen countertop, watching everyone get along with each other, with big heart eyes. That’s until she spotted two certain people alone.
You were listening to your favorite music on your headphones as you stared at the window, looking at the magnificent view of Happy Harbour.
Tim on the other hand was just on the couch, watching videos on his laptop while holding a coffee mug on his left hand.
M’gann, bored out of her mind, noticed something between you and Tim. She whispered to Conner point at you two, “Is it me, or is Tim and Y/N the only people in this cave single?” Conner looked at M’gann disbelief, not realizing that as well. “Oh yeah. I can’t believe I failed to see this. It’s funny how they grew up together in Wayne Manor but barely talk to each other.”
The truth was, you and Tim weren’t exactly close. You both exchanged a couple of words throughout the day, but both of you were are always too focused on either your jobs or yourselves when you had nothing to do. Back at Wayne Manor, Tim spent his time being the best student in Gotham Academy while you spent your time being the best in your extra curriculars, such as being the captain of a varsity.
Of course M’gann, wanting to play matchmaker, proposed the idea to Conner, “They have potential chemistry together. I say we play matchmaker and bring them together.” Connor looked at his girlfriend with a silly face, “You’re really bored, aren’t you?”
“Don’t worry, it’ll only take three steps for them to fall for each other.” M’gann said with a mischevious smile.
--
1. Friday night at the fair
After M’gann making Tim ride with you in every ride possible, Conner whistles for Tim to look up, “Hey Drake, come over here.”
Tim walks over with both hands on his pockets, “What’s up Conner?”
Conner pulls out a wallet from his back pocket and holds 20 dollars in the air. “This should be enough for you to buy yourself some a large cotton candy.” Tim shakes his head and returns the money, “Thanks but I’m alright.” Conner pushes back the money to Tim with a serious look, “I insist. Go. Buy. Youself. Cotton. Candy. Now.” Tim nods, and walks away terrified.
You just came back from the bathroom after fixing your hair when you saw Tim holding a huge stick of cotton candy. Your eyes widened and you ran quickly to him, jumping up and down. “TIM, can I have a piece? Please, please, please??”
Tim not caring about the cotton candy gave everything to you. “Uh, you can take the whole thing.” he sheepishly smiled.
“AH THANK YOU!” you bursted with joy.
“Knock yourself out, Y/L/N.” he scratched the back of his neck and chuckled.
As you happily savored the taste of the cotton candy, all Tim could see was you and the background lights of the carnival at night. His eyes were focused on you. The way you smiled with a satisfied sound as you ripped small pieces of the cotton candy, piece by piece. This is where he started to take more notice of you. He tried to look away as you took notice of his staring. You smiled and motioned for him to take a piece and he did, just a little so you could have it all. “Thanks, Y/N.”
“No thank you, we wouldn’t have had this if you didn’t have bought it.” you smiled innocently.
Tim thought, ‘I guess I have to thank Conner for lending me the money.’
Then as he looked around for Conner, he failed to find him but luckily saw a carnvial game stand. The particular one where you have to shoot all those plates with one try without missing a single plate.
He noticed that nobody was lining up for it so he grabbed your hand and ran towards it, causing both of you to blush.
“Where are we going, Tim?”
“How about I win you a prize?”
As you both stopped, you saw the booth in front of you. “Tim, you sure you can do this?”
He scoffed, “Have faith in me, Y/N. I’m getting you the biggest prize they have to offer.”
Thanks to Jason teaching him a few tricks, Tim successfully shot down all the plates with one try, making you gasp in excitement. “Oh my gosh, Tim! What’s the prize! What’s the prize!” you jump up and down.
The person in charge of the booth handed Tim the biggest stuff animal, coincidentally your favorite animal, and 100 bucks!
As Tim lovingly gave you the stuffed animal, you spotted the 100 bucks, “What are we going to do with the money?” you shot Tim a curious look.
Tim thought of a brilliant idea. “Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?” waving the money.
“I’d love to, Tim.” you blushed.
M’gann and Conner were just behind the booth, thanking the person in charge for handing their money to Tim as they knew he’d win.
“Can’t believe this is happening.” M’gann hugged Conner. “It’s going all so well, Conner!!”
“Can’t believe he hasn’t gave me back the change for the cotton candy.” he joked.
--
2. SaturDATE
Tim’s lunch date was such a Tim thing. He brought you to a coffee shop, but like one of those hipster coffee places where everything looked so colorful and vibrant.
As you walked in, you gave him a curious look. “I know you’re a coffee guy but I expected the shops you’d visit frequently to be more dark and casual.”
“I wanted a change for today. Besides, this place reminds me of you. Colorful and vibrant.” he smirked.
This day just got better and better by the minute. The both of you learned so much about each other as you started tackling simple questions to the deepest ones you could get to.
“I regret learning more about you at such a late age, Tim! Who knew we had so much in common.” you said with doubtfulness.
Tim sighed, “I totally agree. I could imgaine us right now as best of friends at Wayne Manor, staying up all night, watching movies together, and basically doing everything together.”
“Believe me, I feel the exact same way. I tried doing these things with Dick, Jay and even Damian but it never felt right.”
The two of you had so much fun that day that you were there from noon to evening, not even realizing that you both had a big mission the next day.
It was 10pm and the both of you got voice messages from Dick and Conner saying, “Hey love birds, it’s nice to see you finally bonding but we have a big mission tomorrow. I expect to see you both at the cave in 10 minutes.”
The both of you checked the clock and laughed at how neither of you knew it was getting SUPER late. “Well, we better get going.” Tim said as he held out his hand for you to stand up from the bean bags you sat on.
--
3. Sunday madness
Klarion, the witch boy, posed as Tempest and stole the remaining fragments of the stature, needing to resurrect Tiamat from Aquagirl. He made his escape through a portal, but was followed by Tula.
Beta Squad, led by Nightwing, arrived on the scene in the Sacred Well of Marduk’s Temple. But Klarion threw the reconstructed statue into the pool which caused a giant water snake to come out.
Klation blasted the water snake, knocking the tablet of Destiny which was bound to Tiamat ran off with it. Klarion chased after it, leaving the heroes to fight the water-snake form of Tiamat.
The watersnake knocked you out, leaving you unconcsious. Tim saw this and yelled, “Y/N!” He ran towards your body, checking for a heartbeat which he heard, sighing in relief. He stayed with you the whole time from when Aqualad came out from another room, saying the mission ended because the tablet was destroyed and Klarion escaped, to bringing you to the Cave, waiting for you to wake up.
After a few hours, your eyes started to open slowly. You were about to stand up until someone stopped you. “Hey, it’s okay. Just lay down for awhile, you still have a concussion.” a familiar voice said.
It was Tim. He smiled and stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. “Why don’t I get you some water?”
“How about some coffee from that hipster place?” you weakly laughed.
“I don’t want to be too far from you. I hope my coffee here will do.” he stood up and left the room when M’gann, Conner, and Dick came in.
“Hey kiddo, how ya feeling?” Dick sat on your bed.
“Better, especially that my favorite brother is here.” you said with a big smile. Dick playfully looked back hoping Tim wasn’t there to hear that, “You’re lucky Tim didn’t hear that! You would have broken his heart!!!” he whisper shouted.
M’gann stepped forward, “He wouldn’t have been hurt by that. She sees him as something else, don’t you Y/N.”
Before you could answer, Tim popped in with 2 mugs of coffee in his hands. “I hope she does because I see her as something else.” You blushed as you took a mug from him and kissed him. “I hope that answers it.”
Before Tim could kiss you back, Dick pushed Connor and M’gann out, “Let’s give these two some privacy, after all they already have a room.”
--
Dick crossed his arms and chuckled at M’gann and Conner. “I’m so disappointed in you two.” which made that look at each other with a confused look.
“How come? The both of us managed to make them fall for each other!” M’gann said.
Dick jumped in annoyance, “Don’t you see? ‘The both of us?’ YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME BE PART OF YOUR MATCHMAKING THING! I COULD HAVE HELPED A LOT! IT’S NOT FAIR! I SHOULD HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO MY ADOPTIVE SIBLING’S RELATIONSHIP!”
Connor patted Dick on the back, “Okay you can plan out their wedding all by yourself. In fact, your whole family can deal with the expenses while we sit back and relax.”
“FINE.”
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rosemary’s corner
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 2,788
summary: There’s something up with Bucky.
warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.
a/n: This is dedicated to @johnnynunzio. I love you so, so much and I’m so proud of you.
There was something up with Bucky.
And Sam could call him paranoid all he wanted, but at the end of the day, Steve Rogers knew his best friend—goddamnit—and he knew something was going on.
Bucky had gotten into the habit of disappearing for hours on end—sometimes entire nights—without warning, only to reappear and act as though he had been in the Tower the whole time. And even though he wasn’t big on hanging out with the rest of the team before, it had gotten even worse over the past few months. Hell, when he was with the team, he spent the entire time staring at his phone.
Steve’s brows furrowed as he stepped out of the elevator. He’d spent the past four hours down in the gym, desperately trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his best friend.
But if he couldn’t figure it out, maybe FRIDAY could.
“Hey, Fri?” He called out as he shut his bedroom door.
“Yes, Captain Rogers?”
The heat of the water turns his skin pink as he scrubs at his hair. “Do you know where Bucky’s been going?”
“Yes, Captain Rogers.”
When the A.I. doesn’t continue, he frowns up at the ceiling as though she was up there. “... Can you tell me where he is?”
The A.I. sounded almost sorry as she said, “I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but Sergeant Barnes asked me to not tell anyone his whereabouts.”
“Even me?”
“Yes, even you.”
And okay, yeah, that kind of really fucking hurts. It hurts that Bucky is keeping something from him because in their hundred years or so of being alive, they’d never kept secrets from each other. Shit, Bucky had even told Steve when he first got his hands up a dame’s skirt way back in ‘34.
They told each other everything.
“Alright,” the blond said as he shut off the water. “Guess it’s time for Plan C.”
Plan C, as it turns out, requires a little more time. It means waiting until Bucky gets back to the Tower and then waiting for him to leave again.
But apparently that’s even harder than he thought it would be since trying to catch the former Winter Soldier leaving is like trying to catch a ghost.
It took him almost two weeks to finally catch him. It was a little after nine, and the rest of the team had retreated to their respective bedrooms for the night.
Steve, however, spent almost half an hour by his door, ear pressed to the wood and listening for the tell tale sound of Bucky’s door opening from across the hall.
When he finally heard the creak at precisely 9:42 PM, he makes sure to wait a few minutes before following him out. He took the stairs, bolting down each flight. He had to wait several long minutes for the elevator to catch up, watching as Bucky zipped up his jacket before heading out into the cool autumn air.
Not for the first time, he cursed his best friend’s ability to sneak through the streets of New York almost undetected. Plan A had been Bucky just telling his best friend where he was going as he should’ve done as his goddamn best friend, and if that had happened like Steve had hoped, he wouldn’t be traversing down tenth, after having to follow him through several subway rides.
He’s even more confused when he started to spot the NYU signs littering the area.
He stopped in his tracks as Bucky stepped into a familiar looking store, a string of lights glittering brightly in the window display despite the late hour.
He vaguely remembered walking past the shop with him a few weeks before, but when he’d told Bucky that they should stop in sometime, he’d immediately clammed up and shrugged, claiming that it was probably too hipstery for either of their tastes.
Which, to be fair, it was really close to the New York University campus.
Steve got a little closer, just enough to peek in through the window that had ‘Rosemary’s Corner’ emblazoned across it.
The store was the perfect picture of cozy, though it did have that hipster feel that both him and Bucky tried to avoid. Shelves full of records lined the front end of the shop, lights hung up along the tops of each one. He could just barely see what seemed to be a coffee station towards the back, a menu with titles such as ‘Pumpkin Spice Marshmallow Latte’ and ‘Blueberry Delight Cappuccino’ hung up on the wall behind it. A vintage record player in the corner was crooning out the familiar voice of Billie Holiday, just barely audible outside the shop.
And there in the back, amidst the waist high shelves, was his best friend. Steve’s eyes widened as he watched him grab a record from a cart next to him, handing it to a girl who seemed to be the only employee present. There was a flush in his cheeks, a shy smile tugging at his lips, that the blond hadn’t seen since the forties.
The girl seemed to be just as enamoured as him as she placed the record amongst the stacks. Her movements were slow, unhurried, as she took each record that Bucky offered her. She seemed so content to just be in his presence.
Bucky’s mouth moved silently and he lit up like a Christmas tree as he watched the girl erupt into giggles. Her teeth caught her lower lip as she moved to shelve yet another record, but she froze as the man’s flesh hand reached up to gently tug it, releasing it. The two of them were stuck in place, too lost in each other to think about the task at hand.
And despite the fact that anyone could walk past at any moment and see them through the window, Steve felt like he was intruding on something… private. The intimacy between the two so apparent that it sent a blush to his cheeks to have seen it. Just before he turned to leave, he saw Bucky rub the back of his neck in embarrassment, the both of them attempting to pretend that they didn’t just have a moment.
He went back the next day, when he knew that Bucky would be stuck at the Tower for at least a few more hours. He wanted to be able to talk to her in private, to maybe ask her intentions.
And yeah, it was really shady for him to go behind Bucky’s back, but he wasn’t about to just let some girl walk in and fuck with his emotions if she didn’t intend on staying.
So he made the trek up to tenth once again, though it went a lot faster now that he knew where he was going and he didn’t have to hide.
Rosemary’s Corner looked almost the exact same during daylight, though Steve wasn’t sure why he was expecting any different. The only difference is that there’s a few more patrons than just Bucky during the day all spread out through the shop.
The girl’s sitting at the cash register towards the back, flipping through a book. She looked up as the bells above the door chimed with his entrance, an easy smile gracing her features. His eyes are drawn to her shirt, recognizing it as the flannel that Bucky had been wearing the night before over his t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled in order to accommodate her—she wasn’t exactly the size of the super soldier—but she looked so cozy it was hard to imagine her ever wishing him harm. “Hi! Welcome to Rosemary’s!”
He tried to pretend as though he’s not there to interrogate her, perusing through the stacks in what he hopes is a casual and aimless manner.
“Hi.”
Steve jumped, whirling around to stare at the girl. “Hey.” The super soldier was more than a little surprised that she was able to sneak up at him—he had espionage training from Natasha fucking Romanoff. But even so, she’d somehow managed to approach him without making the slightest noise.
“You’re James’s friend, Steve,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake as she gave him her name.
He eyed her hand warily. “How do you know me?”
Her eyebrows rose as she stared at him, reminding him a little too much of how a certain redhead would look at him when he was being particularly stupid. “It takes more than a baseball hat to fool me, Captain.”
Swallowing, he crossed his arms over his chest, going into full Captain mode. “Then I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
But she simply breezed past him, heading for a cart at the end of the aisle with a sign on it that read Don’t want it? Leave it here! Thanks!
He stood there in his spot for what seemed like ages, staring after her. Did she really just disregard him? He was Captain fucking America. No one had disregarded him like that since he was in the USO shows.
“You know, I used to come here everyday when I was a student,” she said, pushing up the sleeves of the flannel to her elbows, before nudging the cart towards the first row of stacks. “Back then, it was owned by Albert Cook. He opened it for his wife back in ‘97 because his wife, Rosemary, missed records. Everyone was using CDs at that point, and it just wasn’t the same. They added the coffee shop in ‘02.”
Steve followed her like a puppy as she reshelved the records. He wasn’t sure where she was going with all of this, but she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to put up with him pushing her around.
“They hired me here my freshman year, but I was here even when I wasn’t working. It’s my favorite place in the entire world, and Albert and Rosemary became my home away from home. It’s not easy moving so far from home for college, but they helped me. A lot. Two years after I graduated, it became mine.” She paused, staring at the Cher record in her hand. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and Steve could feel the sorrow rolling off of her in waves. “Albert passed and in his will… I told Rosemary that I wasn’t going to take the shop from her, that she could have it, but she insisted I take it. Apparently her and Albert had decided to put me in his will ages before he died…” Her eyes crinkled up as she laughed, “I thought their kids were going to shit themselves. They were so mad.” She shrugged as she finally put the Cher record in its place. “Rosemary didn’t really understand why they were so mad about me getting the shop when they never came in. But she moved upstate with her kids and I moved into the apartment upstairs. I still see her every week for lunch.”
“Excuse my interruption,” Steve said when he finally sensed a pause. “But why are you telling me all of this?”
She finally turned to him then, looking so open and honest that it took him aback. “You’re here to question me about James, and I get that. He’s been through a lot.”
“He’s told you?” He asked, blue eyes wide. “About all the… HYDRA stuff?” At her nod, he narrowed his eyes at her. “But he never tells anyone about—”
“Well, he tells me,” she snapped, her hands going to her hips. “I know about all the things he’s done and I don’t care. He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” The girl closed her eyes as she paused, taking in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, the storm in her eyes had settled. “I need you to know that I love James. I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him. And while I can appreciate that he has a best friend like you—”
“You don’t like your loyalty being questioned,” Steve finished, much quieter. He felt as though he’d been put in his place, which didn’t happen often. “I… I don’t either. Not when it comes to Bucky.”
A sarcastic smile settled on her lips. “We have that in common, Captain.”
The two of them went quiet as she went back to her task, occasionally having to go to the front to ring up a customer or make a cup of coffee. At some point, Steve started helping her, handing her the records just as Bucky had been doing the night before. Customers came and went, but as it got later, it got less and less populated.
“I changed the hours a few months after I got the shop,” she mused as she glanced over at the few college kids studying at one of the tables. One of them had put on a Hozier album, the earthy songs sounding like they belonged on a record. “It’s better for college students. Gives them a place to study or just hang out late at night, and they can choose any album from the used record wall to play for free.” Her nose scrunched as she smiled. “And I’m not much of a morning person, so it gives me a reason to sleep in until noon.”
“Does he know you love him?” Steve asked suddenly, cheeks going a particular shade of pink. “Bucky, I mean.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she said, nudging him. But she was just as flushed as him. “I hope so. I haven’t exactly been subtle. But I might have to make a move soon if he doesn’t.”
He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You should. Make a move, that is.”
“He can be rather shy, can’t he?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Both of them looked up, startled, to see the man of the hour standing there in the doorway. Neither of them had heard the bells above the door as he entered.
“James,” she breathed, a fond smile painting her lips as she saw him. “You’re early tonight.”
His ocean eyes softened just a tad as they flickered over to her, but hardened juts as quickly when he turned his attention back to the other man. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you last night,” he said, apology clear in his eyes.
“Why?”
Steve flinched at the harshness of his tone, but knowing that he more than deserved it. “I was worried, Buck. You weren’t telling me where you were going, and you disappeared for so long and I was just… I was worried.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” Bucky said as he moved to stand in between his girl and his best friend. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know that.”
“Then why—”
“James,” she said, cutting him off, “He’s here because he cares. We both do.” The man searched her eyes, his metal hand gently resting on her elbow. “I’m okay. Captain America can’t scare me.”
Steve crossed his arms over his chest, once again feeling like an intruder. He’d never seen his best friend so taken with a girl, so... enraptured. “Don’t worry. Your girl put me in my place faster than I could blink.”
The brunet flushed, shaking his head. “She’s not—”
“I think I should go,” he said, backing towards the door. “I’ll leave you two alone. But, Buck—” He nodded towards the girl, who had slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t be afraid to bring her around the Tower. I’m sure everyone would love her.”
Bucky nodded once, his arm moving to wrap around the girl’s waist and bring her into his chest. “I will.”
As Steve stepped out into the night air, he was shocked by how late it had gotten, by just how long he’d spent in the shop. A breeze promising an early winter ruffled his hair and sent a chill through him. As he wrapped his jacket tighter around him, he took one last look at the two through the window.
The girl was pressed up against him, eyes sparkling as she stared up at Bucky. He could clearly read the words ‘I love you’ on her lips and the shock on his best friend’s face. Without a second thought, she pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair. It took a few seconds for his brain to start working again, but when it did, his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her in for another kiss just as she started to pull away.
Steve headed for the subway, a smirk on his lips. “You’re in good hands, jerk.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic
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Hi Bunnie! Your Misumi jealousy headcanon was so so amazing! Would it be okay to request the same hc but for Kazu, Tenma + Taichi? Ty and can't wait to see more from you! 🐰
oh my gosh! thank you so much!!! that makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed it; tbh i was a bit nervous due to the different take on misumi’s more thoughtful, erratic side so i’m glad it wasn’t too ooc! for you, i’d love to do a jealous hc for kazunari, tenma, and taichi! let’s GOOO !!!
summary: everyone gets their heart broken, and you were the cause of their broken hearts
warnings: anxiety, cheating, fake/toxic relationships, heartbreak, unrequited love
author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for your support ♡ this is definitely on the longer side for sure, i hope it’s worth the read!!!
i explored different types of jealousy for each person and how it would affect their daily lives! sometimes, the best thing to do is not act on your impulses. is it really worth losing a relationship with someone over? arguably, the only person with a “happy ending” would be taichi~ fair warning!
word count: 4,799 (total) — 2,078 (kazunari), 1,616 (tenma), 1,105 (taichi)
music: ghost heart – closure (kazunari), shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t – niki, rich brian (tenma), needs – verzache (taichi)
jealousy (pt.1)
🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari
it was so hard to always thrive off the attention of others when it was exhausting keeping a smile up
sure, kazunari was a burden when he was excited with his nonstop, loud rant about whatever he learned in his liberal arts university... but people seemed to like him even less when he was quiet and contemplative. he was the butt of the joke, so he had to fake it until he made it
he’d rather be the funny jokester of the group and be remembered as the tolerated clown than forgotten completely
kazunari wanted people to come to him, be his friend, and find him important in their life. kazunari wanted to be everyone’s favorite, the #1, the name you’d say when asked who your best friend was
but no one liked him like that. no one looked to him first when a joke was made to check if he was laughing, everyone assumed he was. but it was so much energy to keep this happy go lucky act and it began taking away from his art
envy made up every cell of his being as he saw groups of supportive friends, students congratulated in front of the class, and just happiness in general. kazunari was always jealous, he wanted so much. he wanted someone to be his best friend
and then, you aced the role with no auditions needed. you made the cut, you entered his life as kazunari’s best friend
you made an effort to include him in group activities, responded to his over–the–top DMs with too many emojis, and even amused him with his spontaneous ideas like road trips to the next town over for the hell of it
it didn’t matter if he called you at the crack of dawn, you picked up before the last ring with just as much enthusiasm to go wherever to make lifelong memories
kazunari didn’t have to pretend like he was full of energy around you, because he was! you charged him up to his full battery and he wouldn’t stop moving until he had you to himself for a few hours
at first, it started out by staying a little bit longer after group project meetings, offering to get absolutely buzzed on overpriced hipster coffee he had to perfect as a barista, and exchanging obvious notes in class while getting in trouble for snickering way too loud
then it became seeing premieres of movies kazunari honestly didn’t care about, he just wanted to do the yawn trick without getting made fun of. he liked dramatically fighting over the popcorn with you before pretending to give up, knowing damn well at the end he’d let you have all his snacks. movies became any event possible: single mixers that were just them huddling in a corner planning to make the most memorable exit ever, mall trips that had inappropiate fashion shows in the dressing rooms before getting kicked out, even beach visits year–round and complaining when the temperatures were too extreme but still having the sickest bonfire
all these moments were posted on his private, more personal instagram where his feed would have your face in every row (he also posted the extremely candid shots of you, he was sneaky with his camerawork). everyone with a social media account knew you guys were platonic soulmates, people destined to meet each other and be by their side for every lifetime
it moved into territory like bringing you to his favorite secret hideouts. eventually, it came down to places he knew his other friends would trash and poke fun at. he began trusting you with his most prized places. his safe space that became yours as well
even his art studio rented out at the border of the urban city with a water–damaged wooden floor. you would drop by everytime he didn’t respond to your text within 10 minutes, with plenty of food because you knew kazunari gets into an obsessive state with completing a project in one sitting. he let you in without a second thought even though you had the spare key; now you were lounging upon a thrifted sofa staring at the sunset
golden hour was gorgeous on you, kazunari thought out of no where, shocking him to the core when he nearly dropped his paintbrush onto the plastic covers. get a hold of yourself man! whatever, he always hyped you up, it wasn’t a big deal. it was just usually, intentional
you didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through your phone as your shadow giggled at something on screen. kazunari felt sick (and it wasn’t the cheap takeout), he hated not being in on the joke and getting left out. jealousy brewed at the pit of his stomach as he faked a childish huff to get your attention. you didn’t look over, too busy sending a meme to someone
“whatchu laughing at?” kazunari asked curiously as he resumed painting, to which you fidgeted under his gaze. shrugging nonchalantly, you pocketed your phone that pinged with a notification. the vibration caused you to read the screen immediately without a second thought. huh...
“just some guy.” you offhandedly mentioned, opening some dating app kazunari could pinpoint. he didn’t know you even liked those types of meet–ups, he dropped his brush this time before fumbling to pick it up as cool as possible
pretending to pay attention to the painting, he lost focus as he glanced at your frame. you looked so relaxed, so casual, who were you so close to? you always told him about the few partners you had, this one threw him for a loop
“guy? don’t tell me my best friend is falling in love~!” kazunari quipped, feigning a pose of shock like it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. honestly, maybe it was, or he was a damn good actor and those hours of practice were working. maybe they were if his best friend couldn’t even see past his facade
you blushed at the implication, but didn’t deny it. you just muttered something about having privacy and rolling over to your side, continuing to text at an inhuman speed
kazunari frowned slightly, drawing his eyebrows together as he couldn’t help but steal glances at your backside. usually he got a joke, a confirmation he was basically your boyfriend, and they both hysterically laughed about it at the end of the day. not this time, apparently
this time, it was different. next time he saw you wasn’t sitting next to him in class, or beneath his arm hiding from the scary film on the projector, it was at the café you frequented to see him. except, you were with someone else. kazunari hadn’t seen you in so long, ever since you were caught messaging someone else
you ordered the same thing as always, you didn’t even have to ask before kazunari had it ready for you. but his whole personality was jittery, like he accidentally ate the entire stock of cacao beans raw. he stammered and his tone fell flat, contrasting his lively speech and flair for drama. he looked... overwhelmed
kazunari spilt your date’s drink last second, his chaotic mind barely controlling his limbs as he knocked over the order. as you tried helping him, every customer saw kazunari hide back in the shell he tried so hard to break. he simply shook his head and delivered his customer service monologue about being very sorry and the next one was on the house
there was at least in attempt in sounding cheerful, but coach would’ve definitely cursed him out for his terrible performance. he knew he was showing too much teeth right now and his eyes were too big to be genuine, but he couldn’t do anything else without his foot tapping repetitively
when you shot him concerned side–eyes from their usual table by the window, you looked different in the orange–hued sky. you were gorgeous in golden hour, kazunari bitterly thought as he wiped down the surfaces until he could see his teary eyes staring back with disgust. he was letting his guard down in front of everyone, how lame
he could hear your walls coming down, you becoming attached to the hip with that date of yours as you two became the only customers left. he heard it all, the flirting, the conversations that would definitely lead to you going back to their place with them. he excused himself to his indifferent manager before hiding in the employee stall, sliding his back down against the wall to sit down on the cold tile floor
kazunari found dates boring. all they led to was him getting his unfinished meal in styrofoam boxes and taking an uber to your place to spill what happened like it was a daily struggle. you laughed and laughed, never having stories of your own since kazunari lived through a lifetime of them for the tall tales
kazunari wanted to go back to that, when both of you were single and laughing together about how absolutely dumb committed relationships were. who else would they need besides each other? kazunari remembered asking, knowing all they could trust in was each other forever
but more importantly, maybe kazunari wanted to be more than your best friend. you were the one who cured his constant artist’s blocks with just words of affirmation, the heartfelt gestures making his serotonin levels skyrocket to oblivion before maxing out on the motivation to create anything that would make your efforts worth it
kazunari thought he just did his best with his friends by his side. but, was it normal for friends to feel like this? kazunari began imagining a painting of a figure, of someone that looked like you, except they were so far away and out of his reach. he wanted to jump through the frame and find you, manifest you for him only
no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the face to resemble anything like yours, like you weren’t his to claim creative rights over anymore
kazunari was jealous. jealous of how easily passerbys fell in love with the way you made anyone feel like they were the main character of their own story. kazunari felt stupid, like he was your comic relief sidekick who so desperately would do anything to be your final love interest
alone, kazunari laughed pitifully to himself as he picked his head up to hear your voice through the thin walls. whatever elaborate joke you were playing on him, it wasn’t funny in the slightest
he only wanted you to laugh with him, hell, he’d go make a fool of himself at any time even if meant you laughed at him
you weren’t one of his artworks, yet you were a masterpiece compared to any canvas he could have made in his entire career
kazunari wanted to paint you in all the colors possible, make you see how you were the rainbow after his rainy life
pushing himself up, kazunari stumbled out of the bathroom before shaking his head. it wasn’t worth it, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? you’re still his best friend, you just loved someone else, that’s all. all he ever wanted was a best friend, why wasn’t he satisfied with that?
when would he stop being jealous? (when would he be your #1 boy? he thought against his will)
taking a deep breath to compose himself, kazunari smiled and waved at the new couple. he saw the relief on your face before you resumed the discussion with the most animated expression he hadn’t seen in a long time. he couldn’t even recall when
everything would go back to normal before you became kazunari’s best friend. you would begin hanging out with the other person more, taking them to all kazunari’s best events. you would eventually stop answering his calls because it interfered with the other person’s schedule. you’d have plans outside of him, and kazunari would go back to being by himself. he’d keep going on dates and stay till the end this time, searching for his #1
(he would have to mute your account after seeing your posts with them, but he never told you that)
kazunari heard something other than you. he looked towards the window: it was raining again, again, and again. he opened his smartphone to take a picture:
kaz–PIKO [new post!]: i hope this rain ends soon!!!
it didn’t, at least, not for a very long time
🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma
tenma was what you would call, gifted. grew up with successful, charistmatic parents who watched his every move like a hawk, never giving him the time to improve from his mistakes
so every time he didn’t immediately get something, he’d give up and find other things to beat others at
the only thing he did that was acceptable to his father was acting, so he never looked back
tenma became a headliner of countless blockbuster movies and walked the red carpet as a fabricated actor with no authenticity
magazines labelled tenma as the playboy with on & off again relationships, although they were staged by his label to make him appear like some heartbreaker
truth was, he’s just like every other high school student who was really bad at focusing on academics (and had definitely not been in a real relationship)
but tenma was famous, fake friends came and went every time his popularity rose, hitting him up for favors. it was okay, he was famous, anyways. it’s not like he needed a bunch of no–bodies
at least, that’s what he told himself every time he sat with his parents at awards banquets with no one to share his success
(tenma was not jealous at all of stars with full rows of people of their friends who were always so loud and supportive)
(it wasn’t awkward going up on stage to receive a trophy with only polite clapping in the background)
you got cast as tenma’s next love interest
you were supposed to be a fake relationship that lasted longer than every other person he’s been with before
you were an up and coming actress full of potential and enthusiasm to boot, ready to take on in the industry like you were the biggest threat around
but it was clear, you loved acting
you loved playing different characters like they were an extension of yourself, paying close attention to other people’s habits so you could incorporate it in your own persona
it was strange—meeting someone who loved acting at its core and didn’t do it for the money. most people wanted their name in lights, drama with them in the middle, to have an adoring fanbase. who actually liked acting as an art form?
tenma was sure you were just hiding something, lying about your sweetheart public image to gain fans
you and tenma became public by having a public brunch date (tenma hated brunch, it was so pointless!) where photographers hid in bushes to take expensive pictures of tenma’s newest girl
tenma at first put on a facade, pretending to be the cocky star everyone made him out to be by flexing his muscles with a charming but practiced wink. why not, right? every girl loved that!
all of a sudden, you were gripping the tablecloth, dying laughing as you tried your best to stifle your outrageous response. tenma grew hot under the collar when it was clear you were very much a real, hard to hide your feelings type person off screen
immediately, he told you off in an aggressive manner but before he could apologize for being so suddenly boyish, you retorted back just as quickly. the friendly banter between you two sent sparks flying from the electric energy
those staged acts didn’t have any effect on you (unless he was in the mood for some serious jokes which he gladly fought back) so a genuine friendship formed
due to you both being competitive at heart, you guys were always caught in a friendly rivalry where you two shared real bonding moments together
your chemistry was off the charts (your managers were both very pleased with the outcome, oblivious to tenma’s defensive no ways!)
tenma’s favorite memory was ditching a panel interview without his parent’s permission to go blow his money on a popular chain arcade im the mall he could most definitely afford with his credit card. it was impulse but he texted you the address and miracously, you showed up on your own
both of you wore the worst disguises possible: snapbacks and funky graphic tee shirts as if you two were just regular students. tenma tried everything that even caught his eye, and you knew he wasn’t entirely happy with anything he got despite winning ten games already
clearly he wasn’t getting distracted enough, something must have happened on set
so you made a bet, whoever won the basketball hoops game would take all the tickets. you knew this would ignite the competitive flame within tenma
“you’re on!” tenma declared, shaking your hand with a firm grip and wolfish grin. that would be one of the last times tenma saw you as “one of the boys”
it was when you finally won against his bruised ego but chose a prize for him that tenma realized, he liked you for you. normally, he’d be showering his fake partner with stuffed animals before being ditched on the street corner, the plastered smiles gone and replaced with nasty annoyance
(he’d never admit it, but even the fake affection was nice while it lasted)
no one really liked him for him, he was just another famous teen actor with passable looks to be the side boyfriend
yet, you still got him something despite winning, giving him the plant and ignoring his surprised face
it wasn’t expensive, but it was the most meaningful gift he’s ever received
it was the first time tenma was given a present like that: a tiny bonsai tree
“maybe that’ll teach you some responsibility!” you joked, pushing him teasingly as he just stared at the little tree, feeling like something inside grew as well
he ignored it by challenging you to a DDR tournament (you won, again)
tenma began seeing the bonsai as a symbol of your friendship with him, and it felt good to finally have someone who would go out of their way to be his friend
(as a result, the bonsai was as healthy as ever)
but maybe, his macho–man act turned you off the wrong way and made him seem like a spoiled rich kid. you never could open up seriously about problems you had without laughing at tenma’s serious face, always messing up his bright orange hair and calling him a loser
tenma was tired of being a kid in your eyes, he wanted to be your manly boyfriend that wasn’t just a legacy actor
he was jealous every time you talked about your actual friends from home, who you shared everything with and made them out like they were the best people on the planet
it was silly, but did you think about him like that? did your friends even know you were with him?
tenma, for the first time, wanted a relationship that was more than just a publicity stunt. he wanted to be your boyfriend, more than just the faker
he wanted to meet your friends, then your family, and learn more about who you actually were. know what you were made up of, past the glamarous movie lifestyle he knew too well
tenma wanted to stop lying to the media because you deserved the truth
tenma wanted to recite his script about love but mean it, pretending like he was staring into your eyes and delivering the best performance of his life (if you ignore the fact he almost said your name)
but every time you guys went out, you acted like you were a babysitter and tenma was a child. you never could see him as a potential partner, just a rival who reacted like a brother would
but you read his behavior all wrong
(though honestly, tenma took every opportunity possible to have you close, because he knew you’d never be his again)
by the time the contract was up, tenma was too late. you were ruffling his hair and smiling like a sibling would, commenting on how fun it was to be with him and he could call you up anytime for tutoring. to you, he was just some high schooler who needed you to study with
but to tenma, he had caught feelings and there was nothing he could do about it
tenma would soon see the tragic news titles of how japan’s favorite it–couple split and you moved onto someone else
(someone much more serious and cool than he was, unfortunately)
tenma began booking roles in much more different films, ones with much more somber tones and melancholy scenes that fit his jealousy perfectly (he was often reviewed as having a “real connection” to his character, like he lived through the pain)
tenma noticed the way you were around the same age as your idol partner, how you actually held his hand while blushing for once. you even kissed them and hugged them in front of the cameras, which you refused to do with tenma, saying it would be weird to kiss a kid
tenma was jealous. jealous how he wasn’t as grown up as you wanted him to be. how he wasn’t mature and had a fiery temper and didn’t think things through. but his next partner was assigned and he had an outing with them soon
as soon as tenma met up with them, he flashed a picture perfect smile and heard the cameras flash behind him. they seemed to like that
his new partner didn’t question a thing as tenma addressed them by your name without noticing
that day, tenma came home to his bonsai dying, despite watering it properly
tenma gave up on you, despite the jealousy. if he wasn’t good at this dating game, there was no need to try anymore
he didn’t return back to that arcade for a while
🍁🛹 nanao taichi
the moment taichi saw you, he was convinced you were the one like every hopeless romantic out there
he was literally blown away. the wind picked up stronger when he saw you and he swore he saw red hearts around you
pretending to skateboard like he was just passing by, he bumped into you on veludo way and pretended like he had no idea where he was going
“sorry! i’m a bit lost... could you help me?” taichi paired it with his puppy eyes and tragic pout, unaware he was a bunny face to face with a wolf in sheep’s clothing
but you recognized him, the famous actor from mankai’s autumn troupe
yet, you pretended to follow his plan, knowing how quickly mankai was regaining its popularity status in theatre
(hey, maybe you’d even get free stuff if you played your cards right)
then began your relationship with taichi, where he was head over skates for you and did everything in his power to make you stay
taichi rearranged his schedule for you, staying up countless hours into the next day just to text you and have every possible moment with you
taichi always reserved you front row seats for every mankai production, sometimes even bringing you backstages despite the warnings from his other members
(they never really liked you, especially not the way you had so much control over taichi)
“taichi... you look tired. are you okay?” omi asked one day, when taichi had been on his phone the entire meal and anxiously fidgeted for a reply
(you sometimes did that just to mess with him a little, by leaving his multiple messages on read) (he hated it)
“me? i’m doing the best i could be!” taichi exclaimed, sneaking a glance at his screen to still see it dark
when omi carefully nodded and turned around, taichi’s posture slouched and the insomnia he was developing just to talk began catching up to his performance
taichi did everything a perfect boyfriend did in plays: wrote you love letters (you never read them), created thoughtful playlists that flowed well (you never listened), even learning new fun talents just to impress you (you never paid attention)
it was never enough to make you see him as more than a key to the theatre industry
to you, taichi was nothing more than a loyal puppy on a leash
taichi didn’t realize how tight his collar was until he was confronted by his troupe members, all who were as serious as it got with them
“what’s up?” taichi offered, faking a grin and suppressing the yawn building in his throat. the bags under his eyes were dark, and his blue eyes were dull. he hadn’t slept in so long. he was low on money for buying too many things. he couldn’t remember the last time he finished a meal
omi exchanged looks with the others, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news because well, maybe he’d soften the blow a bit better
it must be bad if even juza and banri are not fighting, taichi mused, not really listening until he heard:
“—they’re cheating on you, taichi.”
taichi’s head snapped up, his body becoming rigid from the accusation. his sight landed on a digital image on banri’s phone screen, where you were clearly all over another person
(taichi remebered them, they were your lockscreen. he never questioned it)
(even if he was always jealous of how you hung out with every other friend much more than him, you own boyfriend!)
there was nothing to justify. banri explained how he and juza came upon them at the mall, and he was sorry
(it wasn’t banri’s fault, but he apologized because he was genuinely sorry for all taichi went through)
it’s not like he could say anything, the photo was clear as day! but taichi’s fists were tight by his side and he stood up defiantly
“that’s not true! maybe, that’s just their friend! or family member! i trust them, stop making baseless claims against them!” taichi knew he was making a scene, but it gave him a window to storm out of the front door and run down the sidewalk
“taichi!” he heard, but no one dared followed him. maybe he needed to face it by himself and open his eyes
they’d be back waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally realized he didn’t deserve to be in a toxic situation like this
(taichi did so much to become even better, just so you would like him more... it never worked)
taichi stopped at the park, panting deeply and leaning forward to catch his breath
this couldn’t be possible! he was the perfect boyfriend, right? he did everything for you... what wasn’t enough? when would he be enough?
but the proof was right there. taichi could see you with the same person in the image right in front of him
that’s when it hit. you knew taichi had acting practice right now, he wouldn’t know any better
all the pent–up anger within him exploded, his desperation masking a much more weak, unstable truth: fear of abandonment and the unrequited jealousy of the other person, no matter how much he hated to admit it
taichi was jealous. jealous of how you liked everyone else so much better than him, taichi wanted to be better, for you
but you were gonna leave him, toss him aside like your time together was nothing, like he was nothing
you never loved him, you liked the attention
taichi finally saw the signs, the red flags you were manipulative and knew he was easy enough to twist and break. he opened his eyes and you hadn’t even noticed him
but then, he tried to tell himself maybe he actually liked that, but it sounded hollow and fake even to him
taichi had to say no now
taichi was hurt, but he couldn’t show that to you anymore. you didn’t deserve the privilege having a say in his feelings anymore
walking by and pretending to bump into you, your face didn’t change as you saw him, simply raising an eyebrow in question
“just leave me for somebody else,” taichi humorlessly laughed, staring at the way you felt nothing for him
you stepped onto his heart and broke it, there was nothing else to say. even then, he wish he was the person you loved, even if it killed him
“enjoy yourself.” taichi finished, knowing these would be the last words he would ever say to you before returning back to the dorms
he didn’t look back, not anymore
#miyoshi kazunari#kazunari miyoshi#sumeragi tenma#tenma sumeragi#nanao taichi#taichi nanao#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game#a3! headcanons#act! addict! actors! headcanons#mankai a3!#mankai company#a3! x reader#a3 x reader#kazunari x reader#tenma x reader#taichi x reader#a3! kazunari#a3 kazunari#a3! tenma#a3 tenma#a3! taichi#a3 taichi
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