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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

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Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

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

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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dameronology · 3 years

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asystole {obi-wan kenobi x reader}

summary: ‘the trouble is the way you stick, to any part of me that remains in tact/but if i pull the plug, it isn’t only me i’m holding back’ - asystole, hayley williams (a.k.a ‘the one where you’re the bane of obi-wan’s life, even as a force ghost’)

warnings: mentions of death, swearing, angst, and me not having a single fucking clue how force ghosts work

this was originally based on a random idea i had and also encouragement from kara/@hellotherekenobi who requested a prompt that i completely forgot to include but...we move. also, i would highly highly recommend listening to the above song just because it’s a real tear jerker and i lOVE it

enjoy

- jazz

Loss, for Obi-Wan, was not a stranger. It was an old acquaintance, constantly lingering beside him -- not quite there, but not gone either. He could always feel its presence, a constant and painful reminder of everyone he’d lost. He could probably count them all one hand but that didn’t make it any better. Loss was loss, whether it were two people or ten. Even if his grief had stopped and started with the passing of his master all those years ago, it was still something he felt in its wholeness and in its entirety. Because that’s all Obi-Wan could do: feel. It was everything or nothing. Zero percent or one hundred.

And with you, he wished it were nothing. He wished that your sudden absence from his life was something he didn’t have to feel in every fibre of his being. It was hard enough to acknowledge and even more painful to comprehend. You were the one person he’d always just assumed would be there forever. How foolish it now seemed, he was very much aware. Everybody died -- Qui-Gon Jinn was a testament to that; as was Satine Kryze and quite literally every other person in the galaxy who’d had the pleasure of being reminded of their mortality. It was just that this was...it was you. You weren’t immortal by any means but maker, you had acted like it. The way you went about life with an air of recklessness and discontent for the rules, making even the hardest of missions into an adventure. His life had been a thousand times better since you’d come running - nay, stumbling - into it. You’d blown his entire world to bits and pieced it back together with tiny, intricate bits of yours. Filled it with chaos and laughter and a light he hadn’t felt since the days of his youth.

Perhaps most importantly, you’d looked after one another. He would stay by your side 24/7 to make sure you kept your head screwed on your shoulders, and you would pester him to drink water and remember to eat. He would remind you when you had important missions and meetings, and in return, you’d proof-read his paper work. He remembered the first time he’d fallen asleep beside you, to wake up with a blanket wrapped around him and his boots pulled off. It was so clear in his head because it was the first time someone had ever done anything for him without asking. It became something you did often, and though he never said it, it was something he kept so close to his heart.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a fool. He knew you weren’t going to be around forever - he just didn’t realise that not forever was going to be a whole lot sooner that he’d anticipated. He used to make jokes about how your recklessness would one day lead to your demise. The idea of it made him feel sick now. He’d been right the entire time. He didn’t want it to be real.

None of it felt real. The whole conversation he’d had with Mace Windu about you not making it felt like a distant nightmare, something he’d tried so hard to wake up from, only to find that he was wide awake the entire fucking time. Night terrors were bad, but reality was arguably worse.

It didn’t feel right at first, to see your chambers still filled with your stuff and your lightsaber still resting on your nightstand. Obi had been the one to put it there when you’d been taken to the infirmary, thinking you would have asked for it when you woke up - but you didn’t. It went hand-in-hand with the robes he’d hung up on your door and the get well soon, moron card he’d brought you.

Then, they emptied your room. Took your clothes and your books and every other worldly possession you had. Your name was removed from the door to your quarters and added to the list of Jedi who had died in combat on the stone in the Temple gardens. Aside from that, any sign that you had ever walked the halls or burst into council meetings at the last minute was gone. You lived on only in his memories, your lopsided smile ingrained into his mind and contagious laugh echoing constantly in his brain.

Throwing himself into work was the only option for Obi-Wan. He already took on a thousand things at once, but without you to help bare the weight, it became a million. If he was busy, he didn’t have time to think -- about you, or how fucking fragile everything was, or about all the ways he could have saved you. You’d slipped through his fingers, even when he’d be holding on so tightly. It wasn’t his fault. It was just...life.

A few weeks passed, and Obi-Wan continued to push himself. Everybody noticed it -- how suddenly busy he was, how quiet he’d become, how tired he looks. Blue eyes had grown exhausted with grief and regret, strawberry blonde hair becoming longer and unrulier than was characteristic for him. When you’d died, you’d taken a tiny piece of him with you. An important part. Maybe that part had been you.

It was on a cold Tuesday evening that he heard the four words. Sat out on the balcony of his quarters, watching Coruscant and life pass by in a blur ahead of him, a tangle of traffic and noise and a million sounds that he couldn’t quite decipher. The sky was a navy blue, cast with the tiny little glints and dots of distant planets. All worlds that you’d once promised to explore

‘You look like shit.’

He thought he’d imagined it at first. In fact, it wouldn’t have been the first time in the last few weeks that the sound of your voice in his head had felt clear enough to be real. Imagining things - hallucinations and echoes of the long gone - was simply part of the grieving process. A process he’d gone through countless times before.

The sudden appearance of you in the corner of his eye jolted him like an electric shock. Perhaps not that far off of the emotional equivalent of being hit by a bus. Or a light freighter. Or...all of those things at once.

You were ethereal. When he’d last seen you, you’d been...tired. Now, you were smiling and radiating some sort of energy that could only be described as quintessentially you. There was not a chance in hell that a grief-induced hallucination could be so life-like, so crystal clear. Plus, why would he have imagined you like this, slightly transparent and with a blue glow surrounding you? A fitting colour for your final form, he figured.

‘Shocked to see me?’ Your drawl continued. ‘Because if you think you’re shocked, let me tell you. One second I was napping and the next I was a fucking Force ghost. Could you imagine?’

Obi-Wan smiled softly. ‘I don’t think I could.’

‘I can float through walls, though.’ You grinned. ‘How cool is that?’

‘It’s...that’s very cool.’ He replied. ‘I don’t suppose you can hug Force ghosts?’

Obi-Wan reached his palm out towards you - slowly but surely, as though he were scared you were going to fade away all over again if he touched you. You mimicked his actions, faded blue fingertips just moments away from his. When they finally touched, they didn’t. You felt nothing. He felt a rush of cold, as though somebody had poured a bucket of cold water over him.

He didn’t fully understand the concept of Force ghosts. Studied them, sure. Understood them? Not quite. There weren’t enough Jedi texts in the galaxy to fully capture the complexity of what made somebody come back. Often, they were linked to acts of heroism, or stemming from action taken when the person was still alive. That didn’t seem like you though. You weren’t the sort of person to try to fiddle with jinxes and hijinkery that would allow you to come back once you were dead - at least not purposefully. There was certainly every chance you did it accidentally.

‘Guess not.’ You murmured. ‘Sorry ‘bout that.’

The icy feeling only grew closer as you took a seat beside him. It was funny, because he thought that if he’d had the chance to reunite with you, that it would have been more emotional than this. Something filled with more feeling and grandeur. Instead, you’d just appeared, and acted as though you’d never been gone in the first place. Obi-Wan preferred it that way.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He continued to stare blankly ahead.

When you died, there were a thousand things he’d come up with that he’d wished he’d said. They ranged from comments about the weather to grand declarations of...how much you meant to him. All things he would never dare say to your face, and that’s probably why he came up with them. Because he would never get the chance to say them. And now, here you were, right beside him, and he had a second opportunity to get that closure -- but the words didn’t quite come. They stayed on the tip of his tongue, there, but not quite there. Even if this wasn’t quite the version of you that he imagined himself telling them to, it was still undeniably you.

‘I should hope so.’ You tried to nudge him with your elbow, but it was just another icy jab. ‘I would say that I missed you too, but I don’t know where I’ve been.’

‘What happened between then and now?’ Obi asked. ‘Between that and this?’

‘Okay, first of all - you can say my death. Coming up with a thousand other words for it won’t undo it.’ You said. ‘And...I don’t know. I just remember blaster fire, then some darkness, and then I was here.’

‘Did it hurt?’

‘Well it didn’t tickle.’ You replied ‘It was quick, if that’s any comfort.’

‘I suppose it is.’ He murmured.

‘You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.’ You observed. ‘I can go away if you want. I’m not sure how this whole thing works but if you want me to leave, I can go and scare Dex-’

‘- that’s the last thing I want.’ He cut you off. ‘I just..I’ve spent the last few weeks trying not to acknowledge that you’re truly gone and it’s a little hard to do that when you’re quite literally a ghost.’

‘I’m not really gone though, am I?’ You said. ‘I’m still here. Not as I’d like to be, but I’m here.’

‘So as long as you’re around to irritate me and make snide comments, you’re here.’ He smiled. ‘Whether that’s in the flesh or...in the blue.’

‘I’m sorry it happened.’ You gently sighed. ‘Not sorry that I died for the greater good but sorry it was so..sudden.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ He wanted to reach across, to take your hand in his or run it down your arm - but he couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with another rush of cold in place of what used to be warm flesh. ‘It was still undeniably your most half-witted decision to date but you saved a lot of people, so I won’t hold it against you.’

‘Oh, how kind.’ You snorted. ‘I bet you’ve secretly enjoyed the peace and quiet, Kenobi.’

‘I miss it already.’

Obi-Wan woke up the next morning, still on the balcony. The air was cold -- as evidenced by his violent shivers -- and the sky had changed from navy, to a turquoise-tainted pink. The city below was moderately quiet, signalling that it was still pretty early. The only sounds were coming from traffic in the distance and the occasional whoosh of a passing jet in the sky above. He stayed like that for a moment, azure eyes clouded with some kind of apprehension as he watched the clouds slowly pass, not a care in the world for the fact it was fucking freezing.

Last night had been real, even if there was no sign of your presence. Actually, that wasn’t quite true -- the robes he’d discarded before your appearance had been thrown over him like a blanket. They did little to protect him from the cold air, but it was a confirmation that you had been there. He wasn’t sure when you’d left - or how - but he was the only one on the balcony.

There were a lot of questions floating about in his head. Why were you only turning up now after weeks? Why had you materialised by him? Why were you here at all? You were finally free, free to do literally whatever you wanted, and you’d wound up by his side. There were millions and millions of places in the galaxy and somehow, his balcony was the one where you’d wanted to be.

After showering and shaving, Obi-Wan found himself heading towards the classroom of the best Jedi he knew: Yoda. If anyone was going to know anything about Force ghosts, it was him. He’d have to make sure not to let slip exactly what he was talking about - your relationship with him was far more attached than the code allowed, after all - in a more general sense, he must have had something to offer. It wasn’t the kind of thing they taught in Jedi training. If anything, it was the opposite. The lesson was don’t become attached enough to someone so that they haunt you! - and it was one at which he’d failed quite miserably.

‘Master Kenobi.’ Yoda sat in the middle of the classroom, meditating. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was. ‘Of assistance, may I be?’

‘Good morning.’ Obi-Wan greeted him with a bow. ‘I have some questions, and I was hoping you might be able to help me.’

‘Do go on. Help, I might be able to.’

‘Right.’ He cleared his throat, awkwardly taking a seat beside him. ‘What do you know about Force ghosts?’

‘Lots. Specific, you must be.’

‘Say you had a dear friend, and they died.’ He began. ‘Then they came back a little while as a Force ghost.’

‘Come back, they don’t.’ Yoda opened one eye, glancing over at him. ‘Never gone, they were. The Force takes time to manifest.’

‘So...the ghost version of them is still them?’

‘Very much so.’ He said. ‘Why, there are many reasons. Many Jedi study for a long time to materialise as ghosts after passing.’

‘What if they didn’t?’

‘Then unfinished business, they have.’ He replied. ‘When a Jedi dies, their Force connections do too. If they are left unbroken, exist as a ghost they will.’

Well, that explained it.

‘Right.’ He murmured. ‘Last question, I promise - how long does that connection usually last?’

‘Months to years, it may be.’ He explained. ‘On their unfinished business, the connection depends.’

‘That makes sense.’ Obi-Wan nodded. ‘Thank you, Master Yoda.’

The little green creature simply nodded in response, turning his attention back to his meditation. He didn’t ask questions -- what was the point? He’d been around hundreds of years, and dealt with hundreds of similar things in that time. Truth be told, he didn’t have all the answers. He was just good at acting like it.

Obi-Wan pondered on the conversation for the rest of the day.

There were a lot of things that could have constituted your unfinished business. The list was endless, especially given how suddenly you’d passed. Nobody knew you better than Obi-Wan, but even he struggled to decipher it. You weren’t the sort of person who would hang around for no good reason. It had to be something important -- something so pressing that you quite literally couldn’t pass away in its entirety without dealing with it. Part of him was worried that he didn’t know at all; you were always sneaking about, always doing something that you shouldn’t have been. That left a long list of possibilities.

But Yoda had directly mentioned Force connections, right? Maybe he’d meant it in a general way, but Obi would have been a complete dumb-ass to think that the Jedi didn’t know what was going on. If the situation didn’t tell him, his seeming ability to know everything about everyone certainly would have. You were the only person he could have possibly been talking about.

It was something he knew he had to bring up, and so he made the mental promise to himself. The best time would have been that night, when he saw you again. If he saw you again. He trusted you to return. You knew better now than to disappear forever without saying goodbye.

And he’d been right. That evening, after he’d exchanged goodbyes with Anakin, Obi-Wan found himself wandering out to the balcony. Sure enough, you were leant against the railings, back turned to him as you peered down at the city below. The air was cold again -- maybe because it was Winter, but also maybe because of you -- and the harsh winds blew back your hair. He wanted to reach out and feel it, to feel you, but he couldn’t. A man whose love language was physical touch was sure to suffer when the person he wanted most was a fucking entity.

‘You’re late.’ You glanced over your shoulder at him. ‘Don’t your meetings normally end at six?’

‘Anakin wanted to talk about something.’ He replied. ‘So is this your life now? Waiting for me to come home?’

You snorted. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been at the diner all day moving stuff around to confuse Dex.’

‘That’s mean.’

‘And what would you do if you were a Force ghost?’

Wait for you. Follow you.

‘Explore.’ He lied, leaning against the balcony beside you. ‘I spoke to Yoda today about...this.’

‘Mmm?’

‘He said that people who usually come back either purposefully prepared for it when they were still alive.’

‘Or?’

‘How do you know there’s an or?’

‘Because I sometimes struggled to turn on my lightsaber. You think I’m skilled enough to do this shit on purpose, Kenobi?’

‘You’re…’ brilliantly intelligent, easily the smartest person I know, ‘...clever. Don’t put yourself down.’

‘Just cut to the point.’

‘Right.’ Obi-Wan cleared his throat. ‘He said that, or that they had unfinished business. Force connections still strong enough to keep them here.’

‘So, you and me?’

‘What?’

‘Our Force connection.’ You said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘You do know what we have one, right?’

‘I...I figured we were always just...close.’

‘No, you dipshit.’ You shook your head with a laugh. ‘They can develop between best friends. It’s a little rare, but we’re both so strong with the Force that it just happens naturally.’

‘That makes sense.’ he turned to look out at the city. ‘I didn’t really have a best friend before you.’

You looked over at him, a smile playing on your lips. ‘Yeah, me neither.’

Obi-Wan quickly fell into a routine, post-you. Not post-you completely, because he still saw you every evening, but that had helped push him towards the transition. He adjusted to only seeing you after work - not in the mornings or during the day or every waking second like it used to be. Nothing was how it used to be. Not even close. You were no longer beside him during meets or climbing into bed next to him when you had nightmares. There were no more missions with you or late nights filled with paperwork and laughter.

That was the problem.

You were here, but you weren’t really. The ghost he saw every night had your eyes and your laugh and your personality, but it wasn’t really you. Obi-Wan couldn’t touch you; he couldn’t feel you in the same way he used to. It was like having a conversation with a figment of his imagination -- conversations of false hope and plans that would never come to fruition. Because you could banter and you could laugh and you act like things weren’t completely fucking different, but they were. You were a ghost. A ghost of yourself, a ghost of the past, a ghost of what used to be.

It had helped the pain at first. Eased the dread of knowing that you weren’t ever going to be back, not properly. Obi-Wan had appreciated that. It made grieving a lot easier when you were technically still there to tease and jester him through the process. Knowing that his friendship was the reason you couldn’t fully let go of existing had both made it better and worse. Better, because it meant you cared for him as deeply as he did for you. Worse, because it was so open-ended. At what point would you be satisfied enough to finally let go? Would he get to say goodbye, or would you just be here forever?

That was the problem, Obi-Wan had come to find.

He was hopelessly in love with you - though that much was obvious - and he couldn’t deal with only having some of you. He wanted all of you, or he wanted none of you. Only being able to talk to a blue apparition of you just wasn’t enough. It was just a constant reminder that the person he loved most in the universe was gone, and that he’d never fully have you. He was kicking himself for that one. What if he’d said something to you when you were still alive? Declared his love for when he could still physically reach out to you?

That was the thought plaguing his mind every night. With you beside him, a cold aura radiating towards him as you sat with your legs hugged to your chest. It had been a few weeks since your first appearance, and your nights together ranged from deep conversations to comfortable silence. The latter was always worse, because Obi-Wan constantly found himself teetering on the edge of saying something. It was hard, because despite everything, he found you to be more enchanting and peaceful than ever. More entrancing.

‘Can I tell you something?’ He asked.

‘Sure thing.’ You peered over at him. ‘You look worried. Is it serious?’

He paused for a moment. ‘Depends how you take it, I suppose.’

‘Try me.’

‘There are…’ he faltered again. ‘There are some things I regret not telling you when you were still here.’

‘I am here.’ You reminded him.

‘No, I know that.’ He found himself unable to look at you. ‘I mean when you were here here.’

‘What’s the difference, Obi?’

‘Remember when you used to come to my bedroom at 2AM because you’d had a bad dream?’ He asked. ‘Or when you’d throw yourself into my arms after we’d been separated on long missions?’

‘Yeah.’

He absent-mindedly reached a hand out towards you; it went straight through you, a rush of cold shooting down his arm. ‘I can’t do that anymore.’

‘You can still talk to me.’ You urged. ‘You can still be with me-’

‘- not in the way I want.’ Not in the way I need.

‘What do you mean?’ You gently pushed.

‘You don’t need me to explain it.’ He finally looked at you, blue eyes shrouded with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

‘Obi-Wan, what do you think has been keeping me here?’ You asked.

You knew. Of course you fucking knew. Try as he might to be mysterious and suave, but you could read him like a book -- and it was a shock to you that he hadn’t seen your feelings either. They were clear as day to both of you, and yet it had been easier to ignore them for the sake of your friendship, and for the sake of the code. You both always figured that you could deal with them at a later date, because that’s when you’d had a later.

‘Just say it.’ You murmured. ‘Say that you love me too and I’ll go-’

‘- I don’t want you to go.’ He cut you off. ‘Because then you’re gone forever.’

‘And then you can move on.’ You smiled. Neither of you knew that ghosts could cry until now.

This was the closest he would ever get to having you now. He could have just sucked it up and dealt with it, and kept you by his side in your ominous form - but would that have been fair on you? To keep you around, just because he was so full of regret over things unsaid and so full of fear over grieving? None of this was fair, on him or on you.

‘I can’t say it.’ Obi-Wan murmured. ‘Not yet.’

‘It’s okay.’ You gave him a watery smile. ‘I know.’

Neither of you said anything else - maybe you didn’t want to, or maybe you were scared to. The fact you’d finally acknowledged the bantha in the room after years, finally admitting that love had been the driving force behind what made your friendship so good, for so long. The irony was that when you’d died, he’d wanted nothing more than for you to come back in some form. Now, he realised that it was holding him back from moving on -- and he couldn’t do that until he’d let you go. But he couldn’t do that either.

Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, his words had been a confession. Albeit a thinly veiled one, but a confession nonetheless. It had confirmed to you the only thing you’d wanted to know before you’d passed: that he loved you back. That was all you needed. It was all you’d ever needed.

Eventually, the Jedi beside you grew sleepy. That’s how it usually went every night -- you’d talk, he’d fall asleep beside you, and you’d cover him with a blanket and slip out to wherever it was that Force ghosts went at night. He never asked, for fear of it ruining the mystery. Obi-Wan knew that he wasn’t the only person you saw, but it was a nice thought, and one he didn’t want to taint. At least you took more mercy on him than you did with Dex, who slowly thought he was going insane at all the random objects suddenly being moved around.

When you heard him gently snoring, you stood up. Obi-Wan looked peaceful, as though he’d finally gotten something of his chest - even though he hadn’t realised he’d done it. He hadn’t realised that it had been enough.

You leant down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. For the first time since you’d appeared, you could finally feel his skin against yours - no cold jolts, no body parts suddenly disappearing through the other. Just your lips against his; warm and...human.

‘Good night, Obi-Wan.’ You ran a hand through his hair, before standing up and stepping back. ‘I love you. I’ll always love you.’

He felt it. He was asleep, but he felt your lips on his and your hand in his hair, and he’d secretly smiled to himself, not entirely realising what was going on. He’d thought it was a dream, or that he was simply imagining that you could finally touch him as though you were a human, and no longer a cold, blue ghost.

Because you weren’t. You were no longer a ghost.

Obi-Wan didn’t realise till he rose the next morning, a blanket tossed over him and the feeling of your lips still lingering on his, even hours later. He even dared to smile for a moment, before the knowledge of what he’d done hit him. He’d given you what you wanted - an unintentional confession of love. The thing you needed to finally cut off your Force connection. The only thing still tethering you to this world.

You were gone, but at least he’d finally gotten what he wanted. You. Even if it was only for a few moments.

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jishyucks · 3 years

Text

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

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memeadonna · 3 years

Text

Metallica

You are an intern working at Fatgum’s Agency alongside our favourite Hard Himbos: Tetsutetsu and Kirishima. Your quirk allows you to control metal, which attracts the attention of a certain someone.

Alternatively: I thought Tetsutetsu might have a thing for piercings and then @malicealieness bullied me until I posted this because we Tetsutetsu simps are starved for content (and don’t worry guys she promised to post more of her own writing if I posted this so I’m more than happy to do so (I love you mom ❤️))

Word Count: 5,971

This story is NSFW. Minors DNI.

Warnings: Switch Tetsutetsu and Reader, Piercings, Size difference/Kink, Mentions of Blood, Biting and Scratching, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Intercourse, Creampie, mentions of birth control, Tetsutetsu being a Simp, mutual pining, this boy deserves more love.

Update: Part Two is Out!

When Tetsutetsu was in his last year at UA, an underclassman joined him and Kirishima at Fatgum’s agency. She was in class 2-A and went by the hero name Metallica. That was you, and you were certain he was terrified of you when you first met. To start with, your quirk was metal manipulation; you could control anything metal and, as the name implies, manipulate it however you’d like – changing its shape, sending it flying, or even adjusting its hardness – and that meant if he were to ever fight with you, he would be at a major disadvantage. It wasn’t like you wanted to hurt him (unless you counted raking your nails down his back and biting his collarbone), but the threat was there.

Tetstutetsu spent a lot of time staring at you, especially when you were in your hero costume or when the two of you had been left alone for a moment. On the rare occasions you met up with him on campus, he always stared at your piercings while you talked. You had ended up fighting with UA over their dress code: students in the hero course were supposed to be limited to only earrings (which you had several of) and small necklaces as jewelry, but due to your quirk you preferred to wear as much metal as you could. Different metals reacted differently to your quirk, and because of that your piercings, bracelets, and rings had been a mix of many different types that you had painstakingly organized so it was stylish rather than garish. It was hard to pull off so many different colours, but you managed. The school wanted you to only wear the piercings in your earlobes during class (the rings were fine), but after a long argument, you managed to convince them to let you wear something so your holes didn’t close up. The stainless steel you ended up with was much less flashy than the other colours you had had before, but you didn’t mind. It was a versatile metal, and the ability to shape and change it to your will was an asset. Besides that, your piercings were not technically support items, so you could use (and had used) them at the sports festival.

The first time you met Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, Fatgum had insisted the three of you go out for food together. Kirishima had spent the whole time talking and laughing with you, trying to get to know you, and Tetsu had just spent his time staring like he was in a trance. You were used to people staring – like someone with a mutant quirk, the large number of piercings you wore every day was unusual, and you had gotten used to stares and comments. You tucked your hair behind your industrial and sipped on some boba. His eyes never left your face, scanning over the barbell bisecting your eyebrow then down to the one on your tongue as you took another sip.

“So, metal,” Kirishima spoke, kicking Tetsutetsu under the table and shooting him a glare that said Pay Attention. “Tell us about that.”

You waved your hand, the ring on your index finger unwrapping itself and forming into a bowl shape. You concentrated as it dipped into your parfait and brought a delectable scoop of vanilla ice cream up to your mouth and took a bite. Tetsutetsu’s brain was all but short-circuiting as you casually dunked the ring into your untouched glass of water and wrapped it back around your finger. As you explained how your quirk worked to his companion, all he could think about was being bent to your will like that. His legs felt weak and shaky, and he was so, so glad you were all sitting in a dark restaurant.

He seemed skittish around you – never wanting to be alone with you, always fidgeting when you used your quirk. Even Fatgum noticed his strange behaviour and pulled you aside to ask if anything was wrong. You felt so guilty as he asked you if the two of you had had a falling out and what he could do to help – was the transition into working at his agency smooth? Were you happy in the position? Why does one of his interns hate you? He hadn’t asked that of course, but the question was there.

In the end, you had cornered your colleague. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you had told him softly. “I don’t think my quirk would even work on you. I don’t want to find out though, because if it did hurt you, I don’t think I could forgive myself.” You told him. “I want to be your friend, Tetsutetsu. I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Scared? It had taken him almost ten entire seconds to process this as you tried to make yourself look as nonthreatening as possible. “I – I’m not scared of you,” he had answered dumbly.

Your friendship blossomed from there. He had to hide a boner whenever you used your quirk in front of him (which was a lot, you tended to overuse it if anything), but now he got to see you smiling and make you laugh, which melted his steel heart every time. He felt extraordinarily guilty whenever he’d sneak off to the bathroom, shove his shirt into his mouth, and beat his dick like it owed him money. This resulted in more than one shredded shirt and several raised eyebrows from Kirishima, but he learned to pack a spare change of clothes in his bag. At least his frantic two-minute tangos were almost enough to get him through patrol with you. Almost.

His situation became more difficult when the agency was working towards a major drug bust. You and your coworkers were excused from school for two weeks and were living out of the agency’s basement. There were three rooms set up there – one for Fatgum with a massive bed, and one for each off-duty intern. Someone was supposed to be patrolling at all times, and all four of you were feeling exhausted. Esuha was not a horribly busy city, but as the dealers you were after were backed more and more into a corner, they began to lash out and take matters into their own hands.

Tetsutetsu was so ready to slide into a comfortable pair of pyjamas, eat a quick dinner and pass out, but the zipper on his hero suit was stuck. Of course it was. Kirishima had taken up residence in the room Fatgum normally slept in, and was snoring loudly, so he shuffled his way over to your door and reluctantly knocked.

You answered the door after a few moments, wearing only a tight tank top and a set of loose pyjama shorts. You were rubbing sleep from your eyes, and if he wasn’t so hyper-focused on what he was sure was the outline of a set of nipple piercings through your tanktop he would have felt bad for waking you. “Zipper,” he said quickly, fighting to tear his eyes from your chest. “My zipper is stuck.”

You reached out your hand and activated your quirk, but frowned slightly. “Your zipper is plastic. Wonder what moron made that design choice. If it gets too hot, it’ll melt,” He was about to agree, but then your hands were on him and he was so, so thankful it was plastic. “Come over here, the light is better.” Your hands unclasped the steel straps across his shoulders, and you used your quirk to send it across the room to rest gently on your nightstand as you worked to get him out of his jumpsuit. He barely registered the door closing and the sound of the lock sliding into place as his brain once more began to short circuit.

You pressed closer to see the zipper better, which only gave Tetsu a great view down your shirt. He had to be hyper aware of his hands, so he didn’t accidentally touch you. He was a gentleman, after all. He had to be a gentleman, even when you once more tugged him towards yourself to get him closer to the light on your desk. Yup. Had to be a gentleman.

You continued to fiddle with the zipper, tugging it this way and that. You stuck out your tongue and dragged it backwards along your lip so the little ball on it clacked against your teeth, and he had to physically stop himself from letting out an unmanly noise.

You triumphantly grinned as you finally got the zipper unstuck, and then your tongue was back in your mouth. “I think the fabric got caught in the teeth!” you told him with a grin. “It was no match for me.” he was so close to you now. You were all but pressed against the wall by him, and as you looked up into his eyes, a lazy smirk crept its way onto your face. “What? Embarrassed that you had to ask me to help you out of your clothes? Aren’t you at least going to say thank… you…” your voice trailed off as he leaned in closer, one arm bracing himself against the wall above you. You weren’t a small person, but he had hit a growth spurt in his time at UA and was now almost 6’6. He made you feel small.

He didn’t lean in to kiss you like you hoped thought he would but instead leaned over to your ear. As you felt his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear and his warm breath prickling the hairs on the back of your neck, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest. “Do you have any idea how much you make me want you?” he growled out, voice gravelly and low. “Are you doing it on purpose?” he pulled your earlobe and the trio of studs it housed into his mouth, and you had to place your hands on his shoulders to stop your knees from buckling.

He was so warm as his tongue teased at your earlobe and one hand came up to run itself up your side, splaying itself over your ribs before slowly trailing upwards. “Well, this is one way to thank me,” you smirked to yourself as he pulled away, snapped out of his trance. “Not even going to kiss me first? No, you’ve just gotta fondle my piercings, don’t you? You have such a one-track mind.”

You ran your hands up from his shoulders to his hair, pulling him closer and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. It wasn’t heated or anything, just a simple brush of your lips against his. He leaned into it, and for the briefest moment, as you pulled away, he chased your lips. He caught himself as he did, a bright blush spreading over his cheekbones. “I’m sorry, I-”

You kissed him once again to shut him up, deep and slow and filled with passion. He relaxed above you, letting himself become putty in your hands and against your lips, pushing his body flush with yours and pinning you to the wall. He was strong enough to keep you there – he could easily snap your neck if he wanted – but the way he held you was so gentle. Like you would break if he wasn’t careful.

That was nice, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You bit his lip which made him yelp and took the momentary parting of his lips to conquer his mouth, tugging his hair as you took control. He let out a sweet little whine as he felt the barbell against his tongue. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, holding you by the ass and thighs as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, kissing you more and more frantically. As you wrapped your legs around his body you felt him throbbing against the soft skin of your inner thigh and smirked triumphantly to yourself. He sat down on your bed and you peeled his jumpsuit off, grinding down into his lap as you kissed.

Once the fabric was pooling around his waist, he flipped you over onto the bed, pinning you beneath his hulking form. “You’re awfully bold,” he rumbled. “Thinking you can get off domming me.”

He kissed you deeply, a rolling kind of pleasure that made your knees weak and your toes curl. A wave of desire swept you away and made you almost forget your name. Then, you remembered you were Metallica and you had a series of bracelets on your nightstand. Maybe it was time to put them to good use.

He was back to mouthing at your ear and teasing your numerous piercings, then trailing his hot mouth down your neck, before grazing sharp fangs along your collarbone. You squealed as he gripped the collar of your tanktop in his teeth and ripped it violently off of your body. The animalistic look in his eyes sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through you, and his hands left your wrists to rip the remaining shreds of your top off of your body. He sat back to admire you, letting out a quiet “Fuck” as he took you in.

He was right, you had a set of matching barbells in your nipples, but he hadn’t known about your belly button piercing. It was one of the more basic piercings, but he seemed enraptured by it for a moment before his hands reached out to cup greedy handfuls of your breasts. One of your bracelets clicked around his right wrist and yanked his arm upwards, sending his body crashing down onto yours. You giggled at the “oof” he let out, and wrapped your arms and legs around him, mouthing at his ear. “I am bold. That’s why you like me,” you held his cheeks in your hands and gave him a commanding kiss before returning to his ear to whisper: “I’m also going to get off with your pretty mouth.” as you sank your teeth into the shell of his ear he full out moaned. What a glorious sound that was. You formed your bracelets into hooks to pull off his boots and his hero suit, careful not to tear it. He did need the thing after all.

Pressed up against you like this, he could feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, and also the drag of cold metal across his body. He began to kiss and suck at your neck and shoulders, relieved that the bodysuit you wore under the armour of your hero costume would hide this come tomorrow. He resisted the urge to sink his teeth into your warm flesh. That was probably too much for your first night but in the future…

Yielding his right arm to you, he used his left to finally grab one of your breasts and caress the barbell with the pad of his thumb. He felt you shift underneath him, and then your thigh was between his legs and he allowed himself to hump it out of desperation. “God you are such a needy bitch,” you laughed into his ear. “Do you really want me this much?”

You were winning. You were winning and he knew it. But if there was one thing Tetsutetsu was, it was hard-headed. In more than one sense of the word. He redoubled his efforts on your collarbones, leaving dark hickies that would probably take days to fade. You raked your nails down his back to get a reaction and he bit you. Hard. The strangled wail you let out was more than enough to make him come back to his senses and he pulled away with a hundred apologies on his lips. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Fuck that was hot. Yes please, more,” you sat up with him and gave him a kiss, ignoring the taste of your blood on his tongue. The feeling of your tongue piercing against him once more made him lightheaded, especially as he felt your bracelets closing around his neck like a collar. You pulled away from the heated kiss with a sly smirk, your lips just barely grazing his as you murmured: “You want to act like a dog then I’ll treat you like one.”

His response was to lift you up a bit so he could get his mouth around one of your nipples. You squirmed in his arms, letting out breathy groans, tugging at his hair and struggling to keep hold of your quirk. He switched breasts, falling backwards so you were on top of him. One hand grabbed the meat of your ass and as you finally released your psychic grip on the bracelet restraining his other hand he was squeezing and fondling the tit he had just been sucking. It was like he couldn’t get enough of your body, and that thought made you gush.

He pulled away from you, grinning triumphantly. “Not so tough now, are you?” he teased, pulling you into another kiss as his big hands roamed your body, squeezing and touching and sometimes just holding certain parts of you. You couldn’t help but feel grounded and safe in his arms, even though you were still bleeding from the shoulder. The warm, fuzzy feeling of safety spread across your body, mixing with arousal, and you smiled into the kiss because he was yours.

Fucking finally.

You then squealed as he ripped your shorts in half, tearing the thin fabric off of your thighs and laughing to himself as you slapped his chest. You pulled back to pout at him. “You asshole I liked those!”

“Fuck, baby,” he answered, hands exploring the newly exposed skin. “I’ll buy you new ones to show you just how sorry I am.” Based on that grin, the amount was zero. You rolled your hips down into his just to wipe that smug look off of his face, and the way he gripped your body to help you made sparks dance inside of your core. You could feel him throbbing against your sex, and based on what you could feel pressing up into you, you were almost sure you would be sore tomorrow.

You made a show of crawling down his body and snapping the waistband of his briefs against his toned stomach. You peeled the garment off and tossed it over your shoulder. In the two seconds you were turned away the smug bastard had folded his hands behind his head and had leaned back into your pillows like he was presenting himself to you.

Your eyes took in his muscular frame, sweeping from his toned arms down to the throbbing cock between his legs. You tapped the tip. “This is bullshit,” you told him.

“What?” his brows furrowed. “Bullshit?”

You nodded. “Yeah, what exactly I supposed to do with this? It’s as thick as my wrist what the fuck. Can it even fit in my mouth? Of course you would have a magnum dong,” you rolled your eyes at him as you pressed a kiss to his tip, wrapping your hands around it. “Fucking bullshit. You’re lucky I brought lube.”

As he processed your words you licked his tip, and that damned piercing grazed his sensitive skin, drawing a strangled gasp out of his lungs. You smirked up at him, giving him another slow lick as you showed off the tongue piercing. He spread his legs a bit and bit his lip, closing his eyes as he slipped one hand into your hair. “You’re good at that,” he mumbled, pleasure washing over him as you finally slipped him into your mouth and gave him an earnest suck. He was absolutely mesmerized by his cock disappearing into your mouth, and the position of your body between his legs (face down ass up – something he hoped to explore more later).

You worked more and more of him down your throat. You reached over and tugged his hand away from his body to bring it gently over your head. You winced as he stretched your throat open for himself, moaning happily as you gagged around him. “Shit, sweetheart…” he let you pull off of him and a hot bolt of guilt shot through his chest as you coughed. “Princess, did I hurt you?”

After coughing a bit more you offered him a sweet grin. “I’m okay, just-” you coughed again, “-your stupid horsecock is too big for me to blow.”

“Oh,” he turned bright red. “Sorry.”

“I have another idea,” you grinned at him, taking his free hand and kissing his fingers before pinning it back behind his head. “Harden it.”

“What?” his eyes widened and his cock visibly throbbed. “O-okay.” He obeyed you, and you licked your lips as you watched the grey steel colour spread across his dick. It was pretty, which was a weird way to think about a dick. It was also way too thick, and you were sure was going to mess up your insides, which only made you want him more.

You raised your hand over him and met his eyes. “Tell me how this feels,” you told him. He nodded at you, and you activated your quirk. His heavy eyelashes fluttered as his back arched, and his breathing picked up speed.

“Tetsu, baby, talk to me,” you cooed.

“Feels good!” he moaned, spreading his legs more. “So good!”

His eyes were all but rolling back into his head as you played with him, and his cock pulsed hard beneath your ministrations. It was almost strange, really, because normally when you manipulated metal it was obeying you and nothing more. With Tetsutetsu, you could feel his nerves lighting up with pleasure, and you smirked to yourself as you twisted your wrist to make him vibrate. He let out a loud moan as you did, and you giggled to yourself.

He squirmed more as you stroked him with your psychic grip, careful not to change his shape. Lord knows that would happen if you did that. “Gonna cum!” he moaned, back arching. “Fuck, what are you doing to me Sweetheart?” you looked up at him, at how wanton he was for you, and your insides clenched around nothing.

You straddled him and leaned up to kiss him again. “I’m ruining you,” you answered lowly. “You’re mine from now on.”

You could feel how his throbbing changed as he came. You felt the thick streams painting your ass and back, and smirked to yourself. He arched up into you and moaned loudly, before slumping backwards, limbs jelly, and panting loudly. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Sorry.”

You reached down to yourself and gathered some of your slick on your fingers. You spread them for him, showing off how wet you were. “Looks like we both enjoyed that,” you told him, watching as his eyes widened once more. He leaned upwards desperately, and you watched in amusement as he sucked your fingers into his mouth. You once more clenched around nothing, and the slick between your legs only got slicker. You wondered if you could take him with how wet you were.

Probably not, but you wanted to try.

Once your fingers were clean you leaned down to give him a kiss, your hands gently tracing themselves over his pecs and down his abs. He had released his hardening after he had finished, but he was still hard beneath you as you continued kissing him, your tongue piercing clacking against his teeth every so often. You slid back down his body and he reached his free hand out to cup your ass. “You’re covered in it, baby,” his voice was gruff and husky.

You brought his massive hand up to your mouth and then it was your turn to suck his fingers clean. He watched you with hooded eyes, and as you pinned his wrist behind his head alongside his other one, he watched you with growing trepidation. You were also a little nervous – would he even fit? You should probably stretch yourself out first, but it just looked so delicious to you. You wanted to feel him. Now.

You wrapped one hand around his thick shaft and guided the tip up to your lips. You were so slick it was practically gushing out of you, and as you ran his head along your lips and thought “I’m going to take all of this,” your lust only grew.

You started to lower yourself down onto him, holding him steady. The pressure of him trying to push inside gave way little by little, and he threw his head back with a ragged moan as you slid the tip inside. It was so thick it was hard for you to breathe, but the stretch felt euphoric. You coaxed more of him into you, bit by bit, but stopped suddenly and pulled off. You used a bracelet to bring over your lube bottle and you squirted a generous amount onto his cock.

“Where do you get off on having such a stupidly huge dick?” you asked him. “Are you trying to split me in half?”

“You’ll learn to take it,” he purred at you, and that thought made you clench once more. You imagined him one day effortlessly able to slide it inside of your ruined pussy, imagined how the stretch would burn so good as you eased him back into you. You could feel him tugging against his restraints like he wanted to grip your hips and help you. You braced yourself against his pecs as you sank further down onto him, and he grinned smugly at your efforts. “Your face is so fuckin’ cute when you’re stuffed too full.” He purred, groaning as you sat back up and slid him in once again. “Not even halfway down yet and you already look like you’re about to break.”

“In your dreams,” you teased back, riding him slowly as you slid his too-big dick further and further inside. Your body swallowed him up like it was made to, and the stretch burned the way you had hoped it would. He was quite a bit bigger than the toy you normally used on yourself, and you wondered briefly if you should get a new one to train your body better. You raked your nails down his chest and slid a bit further down. “Just shut up and enjoy this.”

He looked down and watched his dick disappearing inside of you, and licked his lips. Even with all of that lube, you were still the tightest thing he had ever felt, so tight he could barely move. Even tighter than he had imagined. As he watched you take him, he noticed the slightest tinge of red on his dick. As he realized it was blood, he was not proud that his first thought was to thrust up and ram as much of himself as he could inside of you. You let out a choked sound and clenched around him, scrambling for something to hold onto. “Fuck baby, you okay?” he asked, apologies tumbling out of his mouth in a borage. “You’re bleeding, did I hurt you?”

You had released your psychic grip as you lost focus, and he was instantly up with his arms around you, peppering your face with kisses. “I’m sorry princess,” he cooed, running his hand down your back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, looking down between the two of you. “Just surprising. Guess that was my hymen breaking or something.”

He thrust up into you as you said that, once more attacking your neck with bites and hickies as he carefully rocked your bodies together. He growled at you as you tugged on his hair and let out a strangled sound. He rolled you over, so he was on top, and kissed you hard as you wrapped your legs around him. The drag of his cock inside of you hit all of your nerves at once, and in this position, you were almost certain you couldn’t push him off even if you wanted to.

You once more restrained him, pinning his hands on either side of your head and using his bracelet-collar, brought his face down to you. You kissed him sloppily, once more tugging on his hair as he moaned and panted into your mouth and sucked on your barbell. The feeling of being stuffed beyond what your body could take was absolute euphoria, and as your toes curled and you held on tightly, moaning as he kissed and bit you, you knew you would have to do this again. “Princess,” he cooed. “You feel so good! Fuck!”

“Y-you too,” you hissed, scratching at his back. He tugged at his restraints once more, but as you held his hands firm you smirked up at him. “What’s wrong, want to touch me?” you slid your hands down your body and began to tease your clit, back arching as he sped up his thrusts.

“The things I’m going to do to you,” he growled. “Gonna make every inch of you mine!” he carefully lowered his body so he was in a push-up position over you, and lavished your breasts with his tongue, sucking on your nipples like he was trying to pull out your barbells. He worked them with his tongue, which made you moan and keen and scratch. You could feel his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up, and at the same time felt the drag of his abs against the back of your hand with every thrust. You used your free hand to tangle in his hair, and he bit down again as if on instinct. You let out a surprised yelp and he kissed your sensitive flesh as an apology, licking at the little beads of blood he had left on one of your breasts. Your cunt clenched around him as you heard the gravelly noises he was making, although he was stretching you so open you weren’t even sure it could be called clenching. You were too overstuffed and it was everything you had ever wanted.

“Please,” he groaned. “Please let me fucking touch you. I need-” he cut himself off as he kissed you once again, sloppy and full of passion. “-I’m gonna cum. Need you to first…” you released his hands and he was immediately pulling you up into his lap, kneeling on your bed and bouncing you on his dick while he kissed you hard. Your legs were too high off the mattress to kneel on it, so you settled for wrapping them around his waist instead. He slid a hand over your abdomen. “I can feel myself!” he growled, pressing down. “Right here.” You kissed him back, moaning because you could feel it too. Feel him destroying your insides.

His fingers found your clit and roughly began to abuse it. He was so hot inside of you, pulsing like he was happy to be there. You panted against one another, lips connecting and sliding apart as he bounced you for all you were worth. It was wild, it was feral, and he was grunting like a caveman as he claimed you. You gripped his muscular shoulders desperately, looking up into his eyes as he smirked down at you. He kissed you again, long and hard and slow, and you felt his tongue turn to steel in your mouth. You tightened your grip on his shoulder, activating your quirk on him.

The change swept across his entire body, including his dick, and as he jackhammered even faster into you, you manipulated his body to send twinges of pleasure zinging through him. You could just about hear his thoughts, every “Yes!” “Good!” and “More!” and then the word “Mate!” popped into your mind and you once again clenched hard around him.

He let you fall backwards a bit, once more kissing at your chest as he fucked your plaint body. Your back arched from the new angle, and you gripped at him desperately, insides twitching as they waited for that last push over the edge. You trusted him to hold you and released your death grip on his shoulders, splaying your hands in the air and making his entire body rapidly vibrate. That feeling threw you into an orgasm almost instantly, and your insides clenched around him. You leaned backwards and he held you close. It was so intense you couldn’t even scream. All you could do was lie there stiffly, unable to even breathe as the feeling washed over you. He kept fucking you through it, burying his teeth in your shoulder once again as he pumped you full. As you came down from your high, you gasped for breath and wrapped your arms around him once again. You kissed him desperately as he held you, and as he leaned back into your pillows he kept you in his arms, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You panted against him, aftershocks making your pussy twitch around him.

The metal beneath your fingers softened to skin, and he ran his fingers gently through your hair. “Fuck me,” he croaked.

“What, again?” you laughed a bit, drunk on the euphoria flowing through your body as you reached up to kiss him again.

“I should get my zipper stuck more often,” he grinned, running his fingers gently over the bite on your shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit, but I like it,” you looked at him flirtatiously, before lifting yourself on shaky limbs and reaching down to pull him out of you. The wet Schluck! sound made both of you giggle, and so did the wet slap of his softening dick hitting his abs.

He let out a gasp as his cum began to pour out of you now, dripping heavily all over him. “Fuck, we didn’t use condoms!” he looked absolutely mortified.

“Relax,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got an IUD.”

He pulled you back down to rest on his chest, tracing patterns into your skin. His eyes drifted from the piercings in your ear down your jawline and up to your lips, and he gently ran his thumb over them. “You’re my girlfriend now, right?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into his chest.

He resisted the urge to do a happy dance or pump his fist in the air. “We should get cleaned up,” he kissed your shoulder as he sat up and carried you to the western-style shower. You clung to him as he turned it on, and finally put your feet down as the water warmed.

You removed the bracelets from around his wrists and neck very carefully, and as you smiled up at him, he smiled back. He then blasted you full in the face with the showerhead and the two of you were giggling again. He washed your body carefully, reverently, and even somehow made hosing you out with the shower head feel intimate.

By the time you were done with your shower, you were putting on your hero costume to go out for your patrol. He helped you zip up your padded bodysuit, and his dick stirred back to life beneath his towel as you gently draped your armour-esque hero costume over your body. “You should go rest in your own room, Fatgum will get suspicious,” you gave him a kiss and used your quirk to slide his hero suit onto him, doing up the zipper with a flick of your finger.

“H-huh?” he stared down at it as you clasped his chest straps. “But I thought the zip was plastic!”

You chuckled a bit. “How else was I supposed to get you alone in my room?” you teased, before offering a wink and slipping out the door.

“Clever girl,” he whispered to himself, grinning like a moron.

Taglist: @malicealieness

(If you would like to be added to the Taglist, please send me an ask :D)

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha #tetsutetsu #bnha tetsutetsu #tetsutetsu x reader #reader insert #mha reader insert #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #Memeadonna #Tetsutetsu is a simp #I will die on this hill

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itsnotwierditsart13 · 3 years

Text

Holy Shit (ronance fanfic)

A small little fic about Robin and Nancy getting together:)

It was a thankfully slow day at Family Video as Robin and Steve worked their shift together. Robin was building a new cardboard display case for a shipment that was supposed to have arrived hours ago. Everything was always moving in slow motion at this job, though, and Robin enjoyed it thoroughly. Meanwhile, Steve couldn’t even bother to look busy as he slumped in the one old raggedy chair that Keith allowed them to have. It was pouring rain outside, the windows rattling from thunder every so often. There were probably going to be at least 2 more customers coming in before they closed in four hours. Mostly just older ladies who shouldn’t be driving a car, let alone in the poor weather conditions. Ms. Matheson, a store regular, never rewound her tapes fully, always halfway. It drove Steve crazy, even though he expected it.

“We should have Nancy come by, since it’s so dead,” Steve stated casually as if he didn’t have ulterior motives. He was slumped in his chair, eyeballing Robin for any type of reaction. It was clear that she had feelings for Nancy. After everything that had happened at Starcourt the four of them had formed a bond. Hanging out together most days, sometimes including the kids.

“Don’t start,” Robin replied while flinging a piece of cardboard at him. It narrowly missed his head and landed on the dirty carpet behind him. “She’s my friend and straight, if you’ve forgotten. I’m not gonna indulge in whatever you’ve cooked up in that head of yours.” There was another boom of thunder, drowning out Steve’s exasperated sigh. It was the same conversation they’ve had about twenty times since Steve had picked up on Robin’s feelings.

“It’s just...sometimes when she’s looking at you. She’s looking at you. Ya know?” Steve explained. He was entirely convinced that Nancy felt at least something more than friendly for Robin. The two acted differently around each other. “And she knows you’re a lady lover. Maybe you’re like her gay awakening or something,” he finished, causing Robin to raise an eyebrow at him from across the counter.

“Whatever you say, Dingus.” It was clear that Robin didn’t believe a word he said. “Now, can you make yourself useful and hand me the duct tape,” she gestured to the roll that was out of her reach. He rolled his eyes as he passed it over to her.

He didn’t have the heart to mention that she was building it upside down.

_______________________________________________________________

Robin was beginning to lose her mind at a rapid rate. It was clear Steve was going to be no help in the situation as he sat on the far end of the couch, minding his business.

The three of them, minus Johnathan, had decided to have a casual Friday night movie marathon. That was nothing out of the ordinary, except the minute Steve flicked the lights off and started ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ Robin’s brain almost short circuited. Nancy, who was previously sitting a good distance away, curled into Robin’s side like it was the most casual thing in the world. She wiggled around enough that Robin had no choice but to wrap an arm around her small shoulders. They were now fifteen minutes into the film and Robin couldn’t process anything that was happening. She knew that her body was rigid and stiff, almost like a statue, but it was impossible to relax. What was Nancy doing? Sure, they had hugged before and the occasional times they’ve had to sit closely. Nothing like this had ever occurred, though.

Nancy seemed relaxed and engrossed in the movie. Robin had been side-eyeing her. Meanwhile, Steve continued to act like nothing strange was happening. Although Robin knew that he was fully aware of the situation at hand. The asshole was probably feeling pretty smug currently. Robin would’ve thrown popcorn at his stupid hair if her arm wasn’t already occupied. Despite the growing anxiety, it felt good to have Nancy against her. The girl was warm and small enough that she fit perfectly under her arm. Nancy’s arm that wasn’t wedged between them was laying gently across Robin’s stomach. It was all so...intimate. Robin had no idea what to think of it. This was the closest she had ever been to another girl before. On top of the fact that she had feelings for said girl.

That thought alone filled her with guilt almost immediately. Nancy was probably used to cuddling up to her girl friends like this, why should Robin be any different. The fact that Robin was a lesbian probably wasn’t even a thought in Nancy’s mind. The girl had taken the news in stride when Robin had slipped up and came out accidentally a month ago. Here Robin was, though, catching feelings for an innocent straight girl. A straight girl who was currently happily tucked into her side. Shit.

Robin stood up abruptly, dislodging Nancy and causing Steve to startle slightly. “Um, I have to pee,” she mumbled out unconvincingly before taking off down the short hallway. When she was finally locked in Steve’s small bathroom she let out a sigh of frustration. It was times like these that she wished she could just be normal. It took another few minutes to calm herself down enough but she knew she had to return to the couch eventually. It would look suspicious if she hid in the bathroom all night.

When she walked back out into the darkened room, Nancy glanced over at her with an unreadable expression. She quietly sat back down and did her best to avoid the two pairs of eyes that she could feel on her every so often.

Nancy kept her distance for the rest of the night.

________________________________________________________________

A week had passed since the ‘Movie Night incident’, as Steve had dubbed it, and things had only gotten stranger. To Robin’s horror, Nancy had been touchy feely with her every chance she got. Such as, entwining their hands while walking or resting her legs over Robin’s in the car. It was causing Robin to be in constant gay panic mode, which was exhausting to say the least. The more it occurred, the more Steve found it entirely amusing, though. Also, Nancy was always hanging around with them at the Video store. She’d stop in and bring them lunch, even if it was just for a few minutes. It was as if Nancy was doing everything in her power to give Robin a heart attack.

Despite everything, Robin could only feel herself falling harder for the other girl. It pissed her off. She could barely focus when the other girl was around. Currently, she was trying not to stare as Nancy walked into the store with all the kids trailing behind her. Dustin immediately made a beeline for Steve, who was stocking shelves. The others all screamed over each other about which movie to rent. Will, with his sweetheart face, gave a small wave to Robin as he passed. He would always be her favorite of the bunch.

“Hey Robin,” Nancy greeted casually, a small smirk on her face. She wore that expression a lot now and Robin couldn’t decipher it to save her life. “Sorry for the midday child tornado. I’m dropping them off at the Byers house but they wanted to stop for movies,” she joked. Robin had to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat and waved her arm dismissively.

“Please, it’s been bleak around here anyway. The only person I’ve had to talk to was Dingus,” Robin responded, gesturing over to Steve, who was now surrounded by all the kids. He was probably getting ready to hand them over a movie that they shouldn't be watching at their age. Nancy let out a laugh and stepped forward until she was standing directly in front of Robin.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Especially when I’m stuck watching Mike while our parents are out,” she spoke and then paused, leaning in a bit more. “Although, I am pretty jealous that he gets to hangout with you all day. Even if you have to deal with customer service.” Robin held her breath as Nancy just kind of stared at her with that same unreadable smirk. Before anything else could transpire between them, Max sprinted through them towards the register. The others followed behind soon after, all yelling about her movie choice. Nancy just rolled her eyes while Robin finally let air into her lungs again. The spell was broken after that as they both made their way over to the, still arguing, group.

Robin didn’t miss Steve making kissy faces at her from behind Nancy’s back. He’d seen the whole exchange.

________________________________________________________________

Another week passed by in much the same fashion. It all came crashing to a sudden halt when Nancy had stopped by the store on a Sunday afternoon. Steve wasn’t scheduled and it was just Robin watching the counter by herself. Nancy had only been there an hour before flustering Robin to her breaking point.

“Okay!” Robin shouted, causing Nancy to startle and take a step back. They had just finished their coffees that Nancy had gotten them while talking easily. When there was a moment of silence Nancy got that smirk on her face again. The one she’d been sporting constantly the last two weeks. Out of the blue, as if it wasn’t a huge deal, Nancy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You can’t do that! You’re gonna kill me!” Robin continued to rant. She could feel the heat rushing to her face as Nancy just stared at her with wide eyes.

“Do you…um? Do you not have feelings for me?” Nancy asked hesitantly with confusion in her voice.

Robin sucked in a breath of air so forcefully that it made her cough a little. “What!” she wheezed out, grabbing ahold of the counter. Nancy had the decency to look sheepish as she shrugged her shoulders gently.

“I sort of overheard you and Steve talking about me. More specifically that you...liked me. But now I’m realizing I’m an idiot and probably misinterpreted the conversation,” she finished, taking another hesitant step back from Robin. “Oh god, you probably think I’m a freak now.” Robin just continued to stare at the other girl in shock. “You were just trying to be my friend and I was touching you constantly. I am so sorry,” Nancy ranted while waving her hands around anxiously. It was clear she was working herself up into an all out panic attack.

“Wait,” Robin startled, holding her hand up suddenly. “You were flirting with me?” The statement caused Nancy to stop her pacing and look at Robin.

“Well...yeah. Obviously,” she gritted out aggressively and crossed her arms over herself.

“Do you have feelings for me?” Robin yelped back. Nancy just scoffed and let out a bitter laugh.

“Jesus Christ, Robin, you’re really gonna make me say it? Yes...I like you, a lot. You’re funny and caring and I just feel comfortable around you,” Nancy’s words were mumbled out but Robin caught the whole thing.

“Holy shit, Nance,” Robin breathed out in disbelief. The other girl just looked up and glared back at her. With that look, Robin realized what a dumbass she’d been and smiled widely. Before Nancy could comment on it, Robin gathered all her courage and leaned forward to connect their lips. It took a few seconds for Nancy, who was probably confused, to kiss back. They stood there kissing gently while everything else around them faded away. Robin wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, pulling them as close as possible. She could feel Nancy smiling into the kiss.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later the sound of the door chiming broke them apart. Luckily, they were behind a shelf so the visitor couldn’t have seen what they were doing. Robin just rolled her eyes as Steve came strolling around the corner, though. Of course he’d make an appearance even on his day off. When he spotted the two of them he stopped dead in his tracks. It only took a moment for him to take note of Nancy’s blush before he smiled widely.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” he stated. In the next second he had to dodge Nancy’s swatting hands. Robin couldn’t keep the smile off her face even if she tried.

#ronance #ronance fanfic #robin/nancy #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things

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pointnumbersixteen · 3 years

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How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.

About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.

As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.

#bbc ghosts #the captain #coming out #sorry for the giant block of text friends #i find it difficult to help myself

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choco-mark · 4 years

Text

Accidents

pairing: roommate!mark x roommate!oc

genre: smut | my horrible attempt at crack at the end, i apologize in advance

warnings: language, masturbation (fem. + m.), mentions of nudes, voyeurism, hyuck and y/n getting it on, oral (fem. + m. receiving), fingering, handjob, pretty explicit sex, sub!mark but more like nervous!mark, praise kink, moaning kink (kinda), i feel like i just wrote fucking porn

summary: you keep saying his name as he watches, and he keeps thinking it’s an accident. little does he know that the only accident he created was the one in your pants.

words: 4k

7 May

“Okay, but I don’t fucking understand why I have to do this,” Donghyuck threw up his hands dramatically, earning him odd stares from around the coffee shop. “This is a team effort. So Renjun, you’re coming with me.”

Renjun looked like he was about to slam his head against the wall, and he sighed. Jeno had his head resting against the table, looking at the younger member with a glint of annoyance in his eyes. “Hyuck. We literally asked you to order coffee. It’s not that hard.”

As the two of them started their regular bickering on a Sunday morning, you were sitting at the table behind the three, with Mark and Jaemin straight across from you. You seemed preoccupied with your phone, at least to Mark, who kept giving you glances as you smiled to yourself. “Y/N? Hello...”

You pressed a few more buttons with a shaky hand, loosing your mind a little as you looked up to give Mark a slight smile. Stuffing your phone back into your pocket, you leaned against the table again. As you started your normal conversation with the two of them, you didn’t realize Mark looking down at his phone to see who had texted him. I’m right in front of her, though. Oh, looks like a picture.

Yeah, Mark regretted ever opening that photo on his phone that morning, nearly flashing it to Jaemin in the process. You were sitting in an open legged fashion, red lingerie decorating your skin without much coverage, showing off places of your body that he had never seen exposed before. He could’ve thrown his phone out of his hand at that moment, maybe even out of the window or at Jaemin’s face, but you were still sitting there all innocent in your oversized sweatshirt, talking to the other boy with a small smile ghosting over your face.

He gulped visibly, shoving his phone back into his pocket and attempting to cover his hard on with the end of his own sweatshirt. Why the fuck did she send me that?..

16 May

It was an accident, that’s what you responded too when you had finally opened up your chat with Mark and had seen your own scantily dressed body with your entire heart beating out of your chest. He had promised that he deleted it as soon as he saw it, his face turned a bright color as you asked him quietly in the living room that afternoon. But, it wasn’t really an accident for you.

You wanted Mark to know how fucking wet you were constantly, every time you accidentally peaked into his room while he was changing, or even when he was sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. He looked so inviting all the time, and you wanted that for yourself. Yet, you could never seem to actually get it. You were going to send your nudes to a group of your friends to ask them if they were good enough for an impression, however you had pressed on the victim’s contact, sending it to the poor boy. The worst part was that Mark seemed so unaffected by the entire issue, just shrugging it off when you apologized and assuring you that it was fine. It silently made you want to throw yourself out the window and fall to your misery, mainly since his entire expression just read a blatant ‘I don’t even care.’

But Mark did care. He did care that he couldn’t get the image of you dressing up like that in a room that was right beside his out of his head. He did care that you had placed your phone in a tilted fashion to get that angle of your body, and it drove him crazy. Drove him insane, to be honest, considering you, his very hot roommate, were always right there in his sight. And god he had nothing more in his mind other than for you to sit on his dick.

Though he already was so turned on by the fact that you—existed, the entire memory of you wearing that pretty lace always flowed back to his brain whenever he was doing anything. He might be in the middle of a lecture, taking notes normally and paying attention until he sees your name pop up on his phone. He might be laying on his bed contemplating whether or not he should finish a huge project that he had been assigned weeks ago, until he hears your giggle from outside his room. He might even be in the shower, quietly massaging liquid into his skin until his eyes fell upon your toiletries. Except every time he was in the shower, the blood would flow straight to his dick, and with a little less embarrassment as he fastened his own hand around the appendage. And it felt so good jerking off to the thought of you, and even though he had been a man of his word and had deleted the photo of you, that didn’t stop him from engraving it deep into his mind. Yet it was so wrong, so fucking wrong and he knew that when you would burst into the bathroom while he was having his own fun time and grab something you had forgotten.

Mark had returned from his last class for the day, completely exhausted from the entire day that he had just spent. It was supposed to be just a peek, a peek to see what the noises from inside of your bedroom were, yet it was much more than you just having stubbed your toe as he assumed. You were laying on your bed, legs spread wide with your hand between the sweatshirt that was just too long for him to catch a glimpse past, to see what action was actually happening.

He stifled a gasp in his throat when you arched your back suddenly, your head rolling back on your shoulders as you let out a loud whine. Just your sounds were making him harder by the second, and surely a few seconds later there was a nice familiar tent in his pants, one that he was now groaning over. God, how much he wanted to yank back the troublesome fabric to give him a better view of you, but he didn’t make a move. In fact, he froze at the sound of his name tumbling from your lips without even a gasp of hesitation, his brain going into a malfunctioning mode as you finally removed your hand. Mark could tell from the juices that were practically dripping from your fingers, that you had relieved yourself—and you collapsed down against your bed, your eyes fluttering shut from the feeling.

Oh how much he wanted to open that door just a little more, show you that he had seen all of your sinful actions with his blessed eyes, but he took a step back, groaning softly as he palmed himself over his jeans. He stumbled to his room, slamming the door shut without a second thought, the only thing on his mind being the sound of your voice moaning his name so lewdly. Fuck, he liked it way too much.

24 May

“Fuck, I don’t care!” Your voice was a frustrated one, coming from the living room so loudly as Mark woke up from his midday slumber, having been met with the sound of your voice immediately. “Just do your job and make me fucking cum already!” There was a bright giggle after your words, one that he recognized as his one and only best friend, Lee Donghyuck’s.

“Wow, you’re a demanding one,” he commented, his unusually low voice being cut off to be matched with the sounds of your moans filling the apartment. Mark widened as he realized what was happening, his face turning a nice shade of red as he couldn’t help but prop open the door, looking out from his room to get a good look at what was happening.

Donghyuck was perched between your wide spread legs, his colored hair blocking the most important part of your body in his view. You were still wearing a shirt, but your bra was on the side of the couch you were sitting on, disregarded as he slipped a hand up to your breasts, flicking the nipple over with his thumb as his fingers presumably slid into your hole. Mark couldn’t tell, not from the angle he was seeing you, which was just as frustrating to the fact that he would’ve done absolutely anything to be Donghyuck in that moment, but he also could tell.

Your mouth was slightly parted open, small puffs of breath coming out of you while your fingers pressed into the nape of the other boy’s neck. Mark hadn’t even noticed that Donghyuck had been lapping at your clit until he pulled away, moving his mouth to leave wet kisses all over your inner thighs. You were still writhing above him, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a delicious sound filling the air: a sound that was so fucking filthy, but was making you feel like heaven was on earth.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” you let out a whine as your hands were now gripping at your shirt, holding onto it so desperately as your eyes squeezed shut, your entire face contorting as the boy between your legs just chuckled, teasing you to follow your words. “Don’t stop—shit, shit, oh fuck—” You looked so ethereal to Mark, your sounds having already caused his dick to be set on fire as it was now being stroked in his hand ever so quietly, just wishing that it was you touching him in the same fashion. “Mark—fuck,” he could’ve sworn that he fucking ascended into the afterlife as his name fell from your lips again, the action only making Donghyuck break out into a soft giggle as he removed his fingers from your pussy, inching them up to pop them in your mouth.

“You’re a dirty girl. Moaning your roommate’s name when he’s right here? Did I not do good enough for your pretty cunt?” Though his words held some truth, Mark had already backed his way into his room again, his ears only registering the way you groaned in annoyance and swore that you wouldn’t suck him off tomorrow if he kept teasing you about Mark. “That’s alright, darling,” his voice was muffled now, the sounds of shuffling and hurried movements filling the room. He assumed that the two of you were dressing. “You know you’ll be stuffed with my cock anyway!”

That last comment had rang through Mark’s brain for the next few minutes, his eyes fluttering shut as the image of you on your knees took up his mind, your eyes that were widening at his length and the pretty lace lingerie that you had worn in that picture decorating your skin perfectly. Your cheeks completely hollowed out with his cock edging down your throat, the gags, the tears, the whines of pleasure. If he came right from that thought, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone.

30 May

Mark was going feral. Yes, feral because his roommate was so fucking hot and he couldn’t even control his carnal instincts right now. You had been driving him mad for the past—literally, it felt like forever in his mind, because every time he had gotten closer and closer to his fantasies, it seemed to be ripped away from him just as fast as he could achieve them. He felt like he was having some kind of weird hormone boost as he paced around his room, feeling the blooming sensation from low in his stomach rising and falling with every single thought going towards you.

Everything about you was inviting: your smile, your touches, your body, your voice. Mark couldn’t really say he was a sex expert, only having had done the deed only twice in his entire existence, but you were making him feel like he was getting more experiences that he even had in the first place. Yet, most of them were unannounced peeks of his naughty eyes.

He knew that every time you sank your fingers deep inside your pussy and allowed those soft walls to clench around them, that you would cry out his name with a type of bubbling noise in your throat. The same cry that made him want to leave everything he was doing at the moment just to fuck you until you were a blabbering mess. Yes, he had so many fantasies about you, so many more than he could ever admit to any of the other boys, and most definitely not you.

But this time it was really an accident.

Mark had a really nice shower, at least it was one that allowed him to take his time and...fulfill his desires. It was late at night, probably past midnight as he finally emerged from the bathroom, walking into the living room at a slow pace. However, when he reached the living room with a hand ruffling at his hair, he froze to the sight he was welcomed with; he would’ve died from embarrassment, he thought later, if that was him in that position. Yet, since it was you, it didn’t even hit him how flustered you were.

Your legs were spread out in the same fashion that they always were, except this time, everything was exposed. The crease of your folds caught his eyes, the arousal dripping from your core staining the neutral color of the couch so beautifully that he could’ve stared at it for hours just knowing it was you that caused it. The tips of your fingers were rubbing at your clit, almost violently from the way you were trying to chase after your high, but Mark could’ve sworn that was probably the most attractive thing he had seen in so long, and he had been secretly watching you for ages, it felt.

“Mark, oh my god,” you kept arching your back, trying to get the release that you knew you needed to get, but it never seemed to come. Your frustration rang through the apartment, bouncing off of the walls as your moved your hand away, both of them now gripping your thighs. “Fuck,” Mark thought you were about to cry from the way you finally opened your eyes, ready to get back to work until they fell on him at the side of the room, watching you intently.

As much as you wanted Mark to throw you against the wall and fuck you until you were begging for him to stop, your eyes still went wide at the sight of him. He looked so fresh in the moment, his hair still dripping slightly of the water he had showered in, his skin glowing and face flushed from how turned on he was getting. A smirk grew from your lips, stretching across your face as you tilted your head at him. He was much more shy than you expected him to be, but that only piqued your curiosity, wanting to push him even further. “Mark?”

He visibly flinched at the sound of his name. “Y-Yeah?”

“How long have you been there?” You noticed his eyes were flitting from between your legs to up to your face, his cheeks deepening in its reddening color as he blinked, not sure how to answer. “Mark—you know it’s rude to stare, hmm?” You couldn’t help but tease the boy a little, but he didn’t even make an effort to look away, even though he mumbled an apology.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You dipped your fingers back between your folds, gathering the liquid around there with his following eyes, before you held them out for him to get a good look at. “You don’t want a taste?” You edged your fingers past your lips, tasting your own juices while Mark’s own tongue darted out from his mouth, licking his lips like he could taste you. “You’re practically drooling over me already, you don’t want to help? I’ve been on edge for so long...”

He walked over with a stumble, only focusing on how wet your fingers were from barely touching yourself in that moment, but you hoisted your feet up onto the couch, giving him an even better view. He didn’t initiate anything at first, looking into your eyes that were burning into his with a dark color of lust. “Come on, Mark. Touch me.”

He didn’t think you would be this bold, but he dropped to his knees anyway, liking your demanding words with so much fire in his blood. Out of all the ways he imagined pleasuring you, he didn’t think it would happen like this: in the middle of the living room where you had shared hundreds of innocent memories, or in the middle of the night, probably only a few hours until your morning lecture. But his hands barely brushed past your inner thighs, your breath hitching at the touch.

“Mark—” you elongated the sound of his name, whining out to let him know how much you were affected by him. Little did you know that he was being ten times more affected, his dick hardened to the point where he thought he was gonna explode. A digit prodded at your hole, and he looked up at you with caution in his eyes. You nodded reassuringly, guiding his finger into you with ease. A soft groan left your lips, your eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of his warm flesh. “Move, Mark.”

He added another finger without your help, the fulfilling feeling of your core reaching as he filled you up. He was pumping slowly, however, watching your each and every move. You could tell that he was inexperienced, but he seemed to know exactly how he was making you feel as he picked up his pace. Mark’s eyes were now fastened on your pussy, almost drooling at the sight of something so beautiful in his view. “Am I doing good?”

You forced your eyes open to look down at the boy, who was blinking up at you with those huge doe eyes that you swore looked too innocent to be true. “Yes, baby, you’re doing so good. Your fingers fuck me so—well.” He curled the digits, managing to keep your legs apart as you choked on the last word, the sensation basically taking your breath away. The pet name made him shiver, but he liked it, only repeating the motion again and again. “Oh fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, please, fuck—”

Mark trailed his eyes back up to your face, and you honestly looked like you were having the time of your life when you came, soaking his fingers perfectly. You watched as he pulled them out, giving them a look of thought before looking up at you in some kind of anticipation. “Go ahead, baby,” you reached over to smooth a hand down his hair, pulling his wrist closer to his mouth. “I thought you wanted to taste me? Isn’t that what you wanted?” He nodded cautiously, letting you pop his fingers into his mouth and humming at the taste.

Your gaze fluttered down to between his own legs, your eyes falling on the bulge that looked almost painful through his gray sweatpants. Mark’s eyes were closed until he felt your hand lingering on the skin on his neck, and he blinked at the sight of you looking down at him. He was on his knees, peering up at you with a flushed face that made you want to giggle, and you gave him a small smile. “Can you sit down on the couch for me, baby? Hmm?”

The pet name slipped from your mouth so casually that he couldn’t help but gape at you, shuffling up to his feet with his stare fixed on you. You latched your hands onto his shirt, pushing him back against the soft cushions as he widened his eyes at your movements. “You’re such a good boy,” you cooed softly, allowing a hand to lift the hem of his shirt as you watched him flinch. He visibly swelled at your praise, responding with a sharp breath as you lowered the waistband of his pants. You grazed your palm against his boxers, rubbing a thumb against him. “You—like that, hmm?”

You straddled his thighs, leaning down to mouth as his toned stomach, smoothing the skin underneath your fingertips as you pulled down his boxers, letting yourself take a look at him. His dick was already erect and throbbing, basically waiting for you to do something—anything, to relieve the painful pressure. He wasn’t the biggest you had seen, but you could almost swear that it was the prettiest dick you had seen. With a look up at him, you pressed your thumb against the tip, teasing the slit with slow movements.

His body fell under a heat again, allowing him to let out a strangled breath as your hand grasped him from the base. Out of all the times he had caught you, and out of all the hundreds of times you had said his name, this time was best. “Mark,” you rubbed his thigh to gain his attention. “Look at me.” He complied gladly, his eyes fixed on yours as your mouth enclosed the tip of his cock. You sucked him along with your increasing pace of your hand, enjoying how he was falling apart under the tips of your fingers. He looked so ethereal in that moment, at least to you, his head thrown back against the couch. You swirled your tongue around him once more before letting go of him with a pop, a string of saliva falling hot from your mouth as you continued to jerk him off.

“Fuck...” You pulled yourself up with a hand on his arm, smashing your lips against his. It was the first kiss, taking him by surprise as he could barely move them against you. You let your tongue lick at his bottom lip, letting you inch in to suck on his tongue. Mark let out a whine, making you moan at his sounds. “Y/N, I’m c-close.”

You closed your eyes as you trailed your lips down his neck, nipping at the skin to savor to the taste. You could feel him tensing up from below, his body tightening as your let your hand glide over his cock without end. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess.” His hands finally laid on your hips, pressing into your skin so hard that you were sure it was going to leave nice future bruises.

“Ah, Y/N—” You giggled as Mark struggled to get a hold of his words, mumbling nonsense as cum spurted from his cock, covering your hand with the milky liquid. Some of it spilled onto the dark color of his shirt, decorating him with a muffled moan from him. You made sure to milk him of every last drop, watching in awe to how much he came for you; it even surprised him, considering he had came twice in the shower beforehand, and was able to do so again just to the sight and feel of you.

There was a moment on silence as you rested your head against his chest, moving your hands over his, that were still grasping onto your body. You listened to the racing of his heart, hearing his breaths as he calmed himself down to a normal beat once again. “Wow,” was all he said, the exclamation coming out more as a lost breath rather than a word. “That was—wow.”

You let out another chuckle, peeking up at him. “Wanna join me for a shower?” He pursed his lips, feeling his heart speed up once again at the sight of your huge eyes. Did he just take a shower not even a few minutes earlier? Yes. Was he about to reject the chance to see you fully naked? No. “Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Just give me a moment, bro. You kinda just jerked me off right in front of my face.”

“You did not just call me bro after that!” You said with an incredulous voice, your eyes widening. “Do I look like a bro to you, Mark Lee?! Like you said, I just jerked you off!”

“I’m kidding! Calm down!”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct mark smut #mark smut #lee mark smut

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messrmoonyy · 3 years

Note

35 for sylki on that touching list. Please

Ah, another prompt I tell myself I’ll keep short then go off on a tangent for that is you squintttt you’ll see the prompt lmao. Anywho. Enjoy my sweet anon.

I’m gonna start posting these requests to my AO3 too if you prefer to read there!

Prompt from this list

Prompt: kissing their bruises and scars

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Sylvie Laufeydottir

Warnings: mentions of injury, mild language

Check my masterlist for all my other writing, requests are always open for prompts from lists or not!

Finding Sylvie again had been just as difficult as Loki had imagined. She’d spent her entire life hiding from people and only letting them find her when she needed them for something. And amongst the madness of new timelines popping up by the second…. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. But Loki had been determined. In fact it had been his one and only point of negotiation when Stephen Strange had caught up to him, agreeing to work with him and fix the mess… only if they could locate Sylvie first.

He wasn’t sure she’d even want to see him. She’d cast him through a time door after all. But he believed he understood her reasons, her motives. She had spent her entire life looking for the man behind the mask, the person in charge of the TVA, the reason she’d been plucked out of Asgard all those years ago. And she’d finally found him. There was no way she was going to simply walk away from that. So he kept looking for her, determined to find her and hoping his thoughts were correct.

Though she didn’t seem to want to be found. Every trail they found ran cold, but there was always a little something that made Loki know she’d been there. So maybe, just maybe, she was waiting for him after all. Leaving him clues but needing to keep moving. Situations on some timelines were getting rough and he found his fear peak everytime he found a trace of her, wondering if she was hurt. She had survived in apocalypses, he knew she could take care of herself. But this was something else.

Loki felt himself almost waiting for Stephen to tell him they weren’t going to look any longer, that clearly she had fled and wasn’t planning on coming back. But he held up his end of the bargain and Loki helped him regain order on some of the timelines they came across, looking for Sylvie in the process.

Though as time went on and Loki lost track of the amount of timelines they had crossed, he could feel his hope beginning to slip. Only still going forward on pure stubbornness alone. Stubbornness to not want to lose someone he loved again. He’d lost everyone he loved up until this point. Frigga was dead. Thor believed him to be dead. Mobius didn’t even know who he was anymore. He had no friends. No family. Just her. Just Sylvie. His Sylvie. So he would remain stubborn and keep searching for her.

And stubbornness clearly payed out.

“ as far as I can tell there’s no Kang variant here. We should be safe for now. But don’t get too comfortable “ Loki looked around the planet they had arrived on. He got the strangest sense of de Ja vu as he looked at the small village in front of him “ this planet seems peaceful enough but nothings usually peaceful for long anymore “

“ where are we may I ask? “

“ planet called… Lamentis-1. It’s completely wiped from existence in a few hundred years time. That’s probably why Kang had no use for it and left it alone “ Loki wanted to laugh to himself, of all the planets. All the timelines. They had to end up there.

“ she won’t be here “ he was still balancing on the knifes edge of wondering if whether or not she hated him or not. And if she did, she wouldn’t go back to Lamentis. The place their connection was established. The place he felt that shift in his chest by the lake. Had she felt that too? Had her heart dropped deep into the pit of her stomach as she sat there holding his hand, looking at him as if he were put on the earth solely for her? had she felt that too?

Or had he simply over reacted about the entire thing, his purely desperate need for affection simply clawing it’s way out in the fear of his impending demise?

“ well we’re here. So. Let’s look around I’m not wasting my time “ Loki gave a nod and followed him through the village. He remembered passing through there with her, but it had been deserted before. The neon sign he had ‘foolishly’ suggested she tried to charge the tempad with, was glowing brightly by the side of the road. It made his head hurt and he turned away, suddenly feeling too bright for his eyes, instead looking at the people that didn’t know their planet would be nonexistent in a few hundred years. At least those on it now would be long dead by then.

“ why did you think she wouldn’t be here? “ Stephen asked as he dodged a man carrying a large stack of boxes of some exotic looking fruit. Loki hesitated for a moment and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“ I er- we. We have been here before. Myself and Sylvie “ Stephen glanced over at him as if silently probing for more information “ when I first met her… we escaped the TVA and I accidentally brought us here. Right on the day the aforementioned ‘wiping from existence’ happened to be in full swing. We were very nearly wiped out with it “ if he thought hard enough he could remember every moment of that day. Right down to the smell of the ash that filled his nose, the feel of the soft seats on the train, Sylvies fingers on his neck in her attempt to enchant him.

He shook his head slightly to free himself from the thoughts.

“ our… ‘ connection’ was first established here. It created a rapid branch on the timeline. The TVA showed up right before a chunk of rock could take us down “ Stephen hummed slightly in understanding and then came to a stop.

“ then you might have an idea of where she would go if she were here? “ the lake. His head told him immediately though he knew it was stupid. She might still hate him, why would she go back to such a place? But… he guessed it was worth a try.

After telling Stephen his hunch they stepped through one of his portals, much more simple than the previous trek he and Sylvie had made across the planet.

He stepped out of the glowing ring, coming to an immediate halt. Partially because the lake looked a lot more beautiful when it wasn’t being destroyed by parts of a planet. But mainly because there was a woman stood there at the edge of the water. He knew it was her simply by her hair and the same black leather outfit she’d had when he last saw her. Even if it was a little more ragged looking now.

“ Sylvie “ he practically gasped her name, shock and relief washing over him at the thought he’d finally found her. The woman froze stiff for a moment before turning around quickly, arm outstretched with a sword pointed towards him. Her face was bruised, her lip split in one corner, blood dried around her nose and a gash through her eyebrow. She looked a mess quite frankly.

But it was her. It was her. Sylvie. No mistaking. Even under the purple of her bruises. He’d not forget a face like hers, he’d been dreaming of it for.. how long had it even been since he’d last seen her? He wasn’t sure.

“ Sylvie “ he tried again, more confident and strong than before “ I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay “ her eyes were wild, filled with confusion and fear and she didn’t drop her sword “ Sylvie “

“ How do you know my name? “ her voice was the same, If a little hoarse. Exhausted. How long had it been since she’d slept properly? Drank? Ate? He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her back to the sanctum sanctorum, protect her from what ever had caused her harm.

“ you told me it yourself. Right here on this planet, granted it was a few hundred years ahead of now. It’s me, truly “ he racked his brains for a few moments to think of some way to prove it to her then remembered what was in his pocket. He carried it around with him everywhere just in case he finally found her. His TVA tie. She’d only ever known him in his increasingly grubby TVA uniform. So he assumed it was a good place to jog her memory of him.

He raised his hands in a surrender, the tie in his hand, before taking a few more steps closer.

“ close enough “ she grumbled when he was close enough to be only a few centimetres from the end of her outstretched sword.

“ alright. I understand “ he lowered his hand slowly and draped the tie over her sword. She took a sharp in take of breath at the sight of it, holding it in her hand and looking as if she might cry “ I’ve been looking for you. For a long. Long time “

“ why “

“ because I- “ he cut himself off with a short sigh, deciding now was not the time for him to be making deep proclamations of his love for her. Not when she had a sword pointed at him “ I wanted to make sure you were okay “ he opted for instead.

“ I sent you away “ she said, her eyes darting up to meet his. Clearly she didn’t believe him.

“ to the TVA. A place you believed me to me safe, back to my friend “ he wasn’t sure if he was totally believing that himself as he said it, more so using it as a way to see if that was truly what she’d done. Or if she had just pushed him across space and time to get him out of her way. Kissed him as a mere distraction.

“ but you’re not safe. You’re here “ he nodded again and chanced another tentative step towards her.

“ things are a little… complicated. But we have a safe place. So just come with me, you’ll be safe now Sylvie. Stephen- “ he nodded backwards to where he was still stood observing the two of them “ - is helping us fix our mess “

“ our? “ she croaked, her eyes welling up. It was breaking his heart to look at her in such a distraught manner.

“ yes. Our “ she dropped her sword then and fell into his arms, clutching at him as if he were a lifeline. And he guessed, from the looks of her, he probably was. He held her back just as tightly, trying his best to voice to her that she was safe now. She was home now.

“ we should get back “ Stephens voice attempted to break their moment but Loki refused to let her out of his grasp. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and then shuffled around her slightly so that his arm was tightly around her back, never letting any points of contact drop. To his mild surprise she let him help her walk through the portal, leaning into him slightly and trying and failing to hide a limp in her leg. He’d almost expected her to bark her orders that she could very much walk on her own. But she didn’t.

If fact she was quite quiet after that. Not speaking a word as Loki explained where they were now and that it was safe, talking to her like one would talk to a scared child. He felt as if that was what she’d needed. He didn’t expect she’d had much comfort in her life and he was more than happy to offer it to her now. She didn’t protest when he suggested they get her cleaned up, or when they did just that and she fumbled with the buckles of her leathers and he silently went over to help her. She looked even smaller and afraid without her armour, just the torn undershirt and her trousers.

She was still uncharacteristically quiet as he went to work cleaning her wounds. Sitting her down on the edge of his bed and wiping away the dust and debris of wherever it was she had been. She was Asgardian after all and had her own magic flowing through her veins, so most of her smaller wounds had already began to heal themselves. Though he found a few that were a little worse and silently patched her up.

“ I’m sorry “ she said as Loki finished up, so quietly he wasn’t even sure he’d heard her correctly at first “ I’m so. So sorry Loki “ he looked up at her to see her eyes already on him, tears spilling down her cheeks. Loki reached out for her, his hand cusping her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears.

“ what happened to you “ was all he said, still shocked by how much weaker she seemed. So vulnerable. So afraid “ Darling, tell me “ the name fell past his lips before he could stop it, but she simply leaned into his touch more at the name. She was simply as starved for affection as himself.

“ a lot “ she said with a sniffle, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky sigh “ a whole lot of shit” Loki waited for her to continue, getting her to open up wasn’t a particularly easy thing he’d learnt. So he wasn’t about to try and push and break what he’d seemed to be building on now with her “ after I killed him. I thought. I thought I’d feel brilliant. I’d have some magical awakening and feel like I’d finally accomplished what I had to. Some relief. And I did. For the briefest second then I just…. Nothing. Just pure regret and remorse, hit me so hard I felt sick with it “

Her hand came up over his in her cheek, pulling it down into her lap and holding it tightly. He’d noticed she had thing for holding his hand. He wasn’t exactly against it himself, he wanted to contact as much as she did. Needed the contact as much as she did. If he focussed enough he could sense the magic thrumming below her fingertips, he’d always been able to sense magic. But it felt stronger with her.

“ I ran then “ she continued after a few more moments of silence “ only thing I’m good at. I wanted to look for you. Kinda missed having you being a total arse by my side “ he smiled at that, knowing she had missed him too. It hadn’t just been him pining for her after all “ but the timelines…. It’s mental out there now. People trying to take over and growing more powerful everyday…. Plenty of you out there you know. Right evil bastards some of them “

“ they did this to you? “ he questioned. She shrugged. That was a yes then.

“ some of them. Not all as smart as you’d think. Ran rings round them “ she looked up at him then instead of their intertwined hands “ I didn’t think you’d want to find me again… or if you did you’d just want to kill me. Get me back for what I did “

“ I could never. You had your reasons. I understand “ she seemed to hesitate for a moment before her free hand reached up, her fingers gently grazing over his cheek and his jaw.

“ I missed you, you know “ she said softly “ you absolute arse “ he chuckled slightly and his smile grew when one tugged at her own lips.

He couldnt help but think how beautiful she looked, even with the bruises and scrapes littering her skin.

“ you’re staring “ she commented quietly, her fingers creeping closer towards the nape of his neck and toying with the curls of his hair.

“ I am “

“ narcissist “ she teased, clearly returning back to herself again. He preferred it.

“ maybe “ just looking at her was making his chest tighten. He wondered if his past self would have been quite annoyed at him turning to mush about a woman, found the whole thing funny. But he found that he didn’t even care now. Because hisself that lived on the sacred timeline had a different purpose. A different glorious purpose. But his? It was her

“ what are you thinking about? “ she asked quietly and he struggled to find the words to tell her. He’d never been the best at voicing his emotions. Especially something like this.

“ I- Sylvie- “ he cut himself off with a frustrated sigh and she raised an eyebrow at him before pressing gently to the back of his neck, the faint prickle of magic on his skin. He looked at her and understand what she was asking. And for the first time he didn’t block her as she dipped into his mind, let down the walls he used to keep her out and let her swim around through his thoughts. She closed her eyes, focussing on the clearly difficult task of scrambling around inside of his mind. He tried to keep his mind as clear as possible, the one and only simple thought of I love you floating around on the top. And a minute or so later her eyes snapped open again.

She looked at him as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. There was a moment of silence between them before her fingers at the back of his neck applied pressure again, this time tugging him into her just as suddenly as she had done the first time. All that time ago back in the Citadel.

He’d wanted to be the one to kiss her the second time though he wasn’t complaining. But when she began to pull away he pulled her right back in again, revelling in the way she almost melted against him. She was still tugging at his hair in a way that was almost painful, but it was all very… Sylvie. So he didn’t even mind. His hands were cautious on her, in the way they always had been. Always careful not to touch her unless she wanted him to.

He pulled back from her lips slowly, trying to savour every last millisecond. Then found his lips moving to brush over the purple bruises that were littered across her face, the cut that sliced her brow, following the landscape of injury over her pale features and down her neck. He finished with a lingering kiss to a fresh scar on her shoulder, having touched every mark of hurt and hatred he could see with love. Every angry moment replaced with a tender one, shifting slightly then so his forehead rest against her shoulder.

She turned her head to the side, nuzzling her nose into his hair, her hand sliding up to cusp the back of his neck again and hold him in place. Neither of them spoke for a few moments longer, not really needing to. Just holding each other, being thankful to finally be back by the others side.

He lifted his head after a few minutes pressing his forehead to hers instead, his thumb brushing across her tear stained cheek.

“ I promise you, with all my heart, that I won’t let anyone hurt you again “

#messrmoonyy writes #I wasn’t going to post today because I was in suu a down mood bc of Helen. but writing makes me happy so. yeah #Loki tv #Loki #loki laufeyson #sylvie laufeydottir #sylki #sylki fanfic #loki x sylvie #marvel #mcu #one shot #pro sylki

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ayybtch · 3 years

Text

The One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Things are going up and down for you as you try to navigate life after your breakup with Bucky. Everything leads to an accidental run-in with him at a coffee shop that leaves you and Bucky wondering if things could have been different. Based on the song The 1 by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: This is an angsty fic. The reader is actively struggling with mental illness and a breakup. There are mentions of being on antidepressants and symptoms such as anxiety, insomnia, and sometimes not having the energy for personal care, but nothing in-depth.

Word Count: 11,261

A/N: I owe a very special thank you to @borkingbarnes, who has supportively been screaming at me for writing this ever since I told her this idea and gave me some brilliant suggestions during her beta read. The dividers were made by the lovely @whimsicalrogers.

“So, how have the new meds been treating you? Are they still making you nauseous after you first take them?”

You looked across the room at your therapist and shook your head, “No, they’re not making me nauseous anymore. I’ve been making sure that I’ve got food in my stomach first and not just a cup of coffee. I’ve also been better about taking them at the same time each day,” you said.

She smiled at you. “Do you feel like they’ve been helping?”

You shrugged and offered a half-smile back. Not satisfied with your answer, she continued probing. “Well, do you feel like you have more energy than on the other meds? Are you sleeping more….?” She trailed off at the end, voice hopeful.

“Oh. Yeah, I have been sleeping a little better. I’ve been sleeping closer to 5 hours each night, though it’s still taking a really long time for me to fall asleep. I’ve had more energy but I don’t know if that’s because of the meds or the sleep?” You trailed off a bit at the end, unsure of if that truly answered her question.

“It could be a mix of both. I’m glad to hear you’re sleeping more though, you weren’t getting very much when you first started seeing me.” She offered you another smile before adjusting herself in her seat and continuing, “Now, what have you been doing with this extra energy? Any new hobbies, catching up with friends, going on dates, anything like that?”

You shook your head no. “I don’t have much of a friend group anymore, not since…” your voice faded before the sentence finished. You closed your eyes and shook your head slightly. Pull yourself together. “I am meeting Natasha after this, actually. She and I were friends before everything and she’s the only one that’s really stuck around since. It’s been about a month since I last saw her so I’m looking forward to seeing her.” The therapist nodded and offered a sympathetic smile that made your stomach turn. You decided to continue before she chimed in.

“I’m running again too. I used to go on a nightly run before things got bad. It’s not for as long or as far as I used to but it’s better than sitting on the couch, I guess.”

She nodded and began writing on her notepad, “That’s wonderful. What do you enjoy about your runs?”

Her question was unexpected and it took you a minute to answer. “It’s peaceful. It’s one of the few times I can shut my brain off and zone out. Though, if it’s a bad day it doesn't always work.”

She nodded and paused, as if trying to carefully choose her next words. “One thing I’ve noticed whenever stuff comes up is that you always talk about ‘before’, but what about the ‘after’? Have you thought about trying to get back out there and start your ‘after’?” An uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach as she spoke.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” you whispered.

She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. Eventually, she nodded and continued to make notes.

***

The session continued for another half hour before it ended with a smile and a brief conversation with her secretary, confirming your appointment for the same time next week.

As you stepped out the door, you let out a sigh of relief. Therapy sessions were hard. Even though today’s session had been relatively mild, the process was still draining and left you feeling exhausted most days. It really helped though and making the decision to go was one of the best decisions you could have made for yourself. A smile settled on your face as you pulled your jacket tighter across your chest before beginning your walk to meet Natasha.

You had discovered soon after starting therapy that walking to and from the appointment gave you the time you needed to prepare yourself for the session and unwind after. The hustle and bustle of New York created the perfect background noise for you to organize your thoughts. Most days it helped you process the questions the therapist asked. Often, you answered them a little deeper than what you had in the session knowing that nobody would know the real answer except for you.

Guilt gnawed at you as you thought about it. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to be honest? Were you still getting as much out of it as you could if you were completely honest? You shook your head and sighed. Sometimes there were things better left unsaid.

One of the many things that had been left unsaid had to do with what you missed most about being with him. You had shrugged it off when she asked, saying it was nice having a person around because it was less lonely. While true, the full answer was more painful than you felt comfortable admitting out loud. He had understood you in ways nobody else ever had and nobody else ever would again. It gave you the freedom to be unapologetically you every second of the day. The thought of not being known like that again and having to put on a facade felt like the loneliest existence the universe had to offer. It made your chest ache.

Today though, it gave you the chance to collect your thoughts before Natasha had the opportunity to interrogate you. To be fair, it wasn’t really an interrogation. She was far too gentle when she asked you questions, though you’re sure that’s one of the many techniques she chose from. Interrogation or not though, she would be watching you like a hawk the entire meal to make sure you were actually doing as well as you were claiming.

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside Natasha’s favorite Italian restaurant. She always recommended meeting up here purely because of the breadsticks. She swore they were the best in New York and ate at least three full baskets by herself each visit. You paused before entering, suddenly nervous about how it would go. There’s nothing to worry about, Natasha isn’t going to bring him up and isn’t going to push me past my boundaries. You weren’t quite as convinced as you would have liked to be, but you couldn’t delay it any longer as you stepped inside.

A blast of warm air surrounded you as you were greeted by the hostess. It didn’t take for her to lead you back to where Natasha was sitting, a glass of wine already in her hand. A second sat waiting on the table for you.

You walked over, bending down to give her a side hug and a peck on the cheek.

“You’re late,” she said reproachfully, eyes zeroed in on yours.

“I know, I’m sorry. My session went a little over today.” You pulled out your chair and sat down before continuing, “How are you? It’s good to see you.”

Natasha smiled brightly. “I’ve been good. I’ve been really looking forward to this, I was so happy when you said yes. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you.” You grinned slightly and she continued. “I’m sorry that it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to catch up. Work has been keeping me even busier than usual. Stark has been working on all sorts of new tech developments and has somehow recruited me for testing.”

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine, “Nothing he’s made has killed you yet. That’s impressive.”

She snorted, “He’s lucky I didn’t flat out say no. His last update to the Falcon wings sent Wilson through the ceiling and landed him in the medbay for three days with a concussion.” Natasha noticed the look of concern on your face and waved her hand as she sipped on her wine. “He’s fine, don’t worry. All of the Avengers men have skulls harder than concrete.” The two of you burst into laughter at the thought.

A waiter arrived as your laughter died down to take your orders and to refill Natasha’s wine glass. You both thanked him as he turned to walk away. A quiet settled over the table and Natasha’s gaze landed firmly on you.

“So how have you been?” she asked softly, voice far gentler than anyone would expect from a former assassin. You shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“Some days are better than others,” you said, “Overall things are better than they’ve been for a while now though. My shrink has me on some new meds that seem to be helping and I’ve been working harder on doing little things to take care of myself every day, not just the good days.”

Natasha nodded, eyes still fixed on you. Slowly, she reached a hand out across the table and placed it on top of yours. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You can call me any time of day and as long as I’m not on a mission, I can be at your apartment within the hour.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at her words. You nodded quickly, eyes blinking fast to try and keep the tears that were welling up from falling. She gave your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.

“Now where the hell are our breadsticks? This is going to be a failed meal if I have less than twelve in me before the main dish arrives.” Her words made you burst out laughing once again and succeeded in putting a smile on your face for the remainder of the meal.

***

“Are you sure I can’t drive you back to your apartment?” Natasha asked, wrapping her scarf around her neck as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. You nodded at her and smiled.

“I enjoy walking, it clears my mind,” you said. She let out a disapproving hum but didn’t argue further. She pulled you into a bone-crushing hug before turning and walking towards where her car was parked. You watched as she stepped in and waved as she pulled out of the parking lot. You stood and watched until her car was out of sight before turning to start the walk home.

As it was on the walk to the restaurant, the busy streets provided the perfect background noise needed for you to quiet your mind. You focused on your breathing, allowing yourself to try and channel any residual nervous energy outward. With each breath, the faces passing by began to blur. Neon signs hanging in the windows of the shops you passed by became nothing more than a gentle glow in your peripheral. With each step you took, the background seamlessly blended together more and your focus on yourself heightened. A sense of calm settled itself in your chest. The feeling grew stronger with each block you passed until a small smile made its way onto your face. That feeling ended abruptly as you turned around the next block.

There was a large crowd waiting at the bus stop, but your eyes focused on one man. You stared at his silhouette, panic building with each second. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you and your feet had magically turned into cinder blocks. Is that...? No, it couldn’t be…

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, the man turned slightly so you could see his face, and a sigh of relief left you. You stood there a moment longer to examine his side profile. It wasn’t him; he just happened to look like him. He was about the same height and weight, with similar chocolate waves. Your eyes landed on his light brown leather jacket and a lump formed in your throat. He had worn a similar jacket the day you met. It felt like being thrown back in time as you continued to stare at the man in front of you.

Natasha drug you through a hallway, not caring about your protests to slow down. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She smirked as she spoke, leaving you to wonder what she was plotting.

A group of choices greeted the two of you as you entered the room. You waved at Steve and Sharon sitting on the couch as Natasha continued to pull you across the room to where two men were standing. One of the men was Sam, whom you had met the last time Natasha brought you to the compound. The other was Bucky Barnes. You hadn’t met him before but you knew who he was. It was impossible not to given how public everything about Hydra had become.

“Barnes, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Natasha said, turning slightly towards you.

Bucky turned to look at you, offering a charming smile as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Bucky.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself, hoping to god you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. The pictures of him floating around on the news did not do him justice. Bucky was absolutely breathtaking. His smile lit up his eyes in a way no camera could ever hope to capture. His hair was cropped just above his shoulders, falling into a beautiful wavy pattern. You realized you were staring and felt your face get hot.

“Uh, I like your jacket,” you mumbled, hoping he hadn’t realized you were staring. The leather jacket was a beautiful light brown. It looked old, but well loved at the same time.

He smiled widely at you, “Thanks! Leather jackets are kind of my thing. Sam here thinks I have too many but there’s no such thing as too many leather jackets, wouldn’t you agree?”

As the memory floated away, you couldn’t help but think how Bucky probably would’ve gone up to the man to ask about his jacket. You chuckled at the thought. As soon as he walked away, he would’ve immediately started looking up where he could find one for his own closet. It didn’t matter how many leather jackets he had. He always wanted more.

The chuckle died on your lips and was replaced by an uncomfortable knot settling in your stomach. A heavy weight fell on your chest and you forced yourself to find the energy to trudge forward.

The remainder of the walk was a blur, but not in the same way it had been before. This wasn’t the good kind of blur that helped you to focus. It was the kind that left you feeling suffocated and as if everything would come crashing down all at once. That had been the first happy thought about Bucky since the two of you broke up. His presence in your thoughts was so strong, he might as well have been walking right next to you. You could practically feel his knuckles brushing against yours with each step you took. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could smell his cologne.

The harsh reality of how alone you were hit you as the greeting from your apartment’s doorman pulled you from your thoughts. You shot him a small smile before rushing inside and all but sprinting up the stairs. Your hands shook as you unlocked the door to your apartment, though you couldn't tell if it was from your thoughts of Bucky or from the sudden burst of energy that left you slightly winded.

Once inside, you rushed to your bedroom and changed into the first sports bra and pair of leggings you saw. You needed to get Bucky off your mind and the only way you knew how was to run. It was going to be a long run tonight.

The doorman waved at you again as you exited the building, surprised to see you again so soon. “Someone is feeling motivated today I see,” he joked. You shrugged and slowly began to jog.

***

It took a while to get into your groove, but once you were there you felt good. The movement helped settle the anxious energy that had been building since you had seen the man at the bus stop, while the steady breathing brought your focus back to the here and now just like it had before. That’s something else to mention if she asks about my runs again, you thought. These runs bring my focus to this exact moment in time.

That thought was lost as you passed a small, hole in the wall theater. Small groups were exiting the building, each talking excitedly amongst themselves about the movie that had just finished. The nauseous feeling from earlier came back as memories resurfaced. That was Bucky’s favorite movie theater. Every Sunday they played movies from the 1920s and 1930s. He used to drag you along with him whenever he saw one he remembered from his childhood. Each time he swore up and down that you were about to experience a cinematic masterpiece like no other and that it would change the way you looked at movies. You always rolled your eyes as he said it, but the magic you felt in that theater with him was like no other.

Movies made back then were so different from the movies made now. The characters felt so much more real. They were allowed to be people. Their faults and flaws didn’t take away from the good things about them. These films never failed to make you feel all of the emotions you were meant to feel and each time you exited the theater, you couldn’t help but wish you could’ve remained in that little bubble just a few minutes longer. Those bittersweet feelings about the ending never lasted long though, as Bucky would wrap his arm around your shoulder and proceed to talk your ear off about the movie until you made it home.

“You know Doll, the greatest films of all time were never made,” he said, smiling down at you.

You just laughed and shook your head.“Bucky that makes absolutely no sense.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically, making you laugh again. “Think about it though, how many movies haven’t been made because someone decided they weren’t good enough for the big screen? How many stories have been brought into existence but never been told to another living soul?”

A car horn brought you back into reality. Bitterness crept into your chest as you processed the memory that had just played out picture-perfect in your mind. Those afternoons with him in the theater had been some of the best afternoons of your life. Even if you weren’t crazy about the movie, Bucky’s sheer excitement about it was enough to convince you of how wonderful it truly was. If only he had felt that same amount of joy in other areas of your relationship.

Your bitterness slowly began to turn to anger as you thought about the last few months of being with Bucky. Sunday matinees had stopped being a regular thing as Bucky’s work schedule picked up until they stopped happening entirely. His new position training new SHIELD agents and prospective new members to the Avenger ate away at his time. All of his time. It got to the point Bucky never stopped working. Even at home, his thoughts were on paperwork to be filed, training to be planned, or meetings to be run. You’d be sitting on the couch next to him trying to talk only to receive disinterested “hmms” or the occasional “That’s nice honey.”

You tried bringing it up to no avail. He always brushed it off and said things would calm down eventually and that he just needed you to hold out a bit longer. He never outright said his work was more important to him but the implication was there and you felt the weight of it every single day. You bit your tongue and played along for a while, but after several months of hearing the same excuses, you finally snapped. Unfortunately, so did Bucky.

“All you ever do is work. I can’t remember the last time we went and did something together. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time you cared enough to even ask me about my day. It’s like you don’t even want me around anymore,” you hissed, glaring at Bucky.

“Excuse me for caring about my fucking job. One of us has to if we’re going to continue affording this place,” he scoffed.

Ice filled your veins as you stared at him, fist clenched at your side. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, we both know you’re barely getting your work done on time. You lay here on the couch all day watching TV. You’re lucky you’re allowed to work from home because you look like a walking disaster half the time. You’ve stopped wearing clean clothes, you hardly shower, you hardly eat, and you hardly sleep. Face it, you’re depressed.” His voice was flat as he spoke.

You furiously blinked back tears that were trying to well up as you processed his words. “First of all, I am not depressed,” you muttered, “Second, if I’m such a walking disaster then what are you even still doing here?”

“I am still here because I care about you. I have lost track of how many times I have asked you to get help. I’ve been where you are, I know what you’re going through and I know what it takes to come back from it. If you never bleed, you’re never going to grow. If you can’t move past this, then we -” he paused to motion between the two of you “- can’t move past this.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke. There was no malice in them, but there was also none of the kindness or warmth you wished for. His gaze just felt indifferent.

You remained silent as you tried to find words. Bucky continued watching you, waiting expectantly for a response. A response never came, however, and he let out a loud sigh.

“If you don’t have anything to say to that, then I think we’re done here. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I love you, but neither of us is happy. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I need,” Without another word, Bucky grabbed his coat and walked out the front door of the apartment.

That was the last time that you saw Bucky. He had sent you a text a few days later asking when a good time to come pick up his stuff would be. You responded begrudgingly, telling yourself that the sooner his stuff was gone the sooner your life could get back to normal. When the day came, you forced yourself to get out of the apartment. The thought of seeing him after what went down between you left you seeing red. When you finally went back after he left, you felt none of the happy emotions you had convinced yourself you would feel.

Instead, you felt the empty spots in the room. Every missing item you noticed felt like a blow to the stomach and caused fresh tears to well up in your eyes. Pictures were no longer hanging from the walls; random gaps were in the bookshelves; his leather jacket was no longer slung across the back of the chair he loved in the living room. You stumbled back to your room with your eyes closed, refusing to see what other memories had been ripped from their rightful homes. Once there, you collapsed on the bed and laid there for two days. It wasn’t until Natasha broke into your apartment to check on you after countless missed calls and ignored texts that you finally moved from that spot.

For the millionth time that day, your stomach twisted as thoughts of Bucky floated around in your head. Despite it all, you regretted not being there when he came to get his things. There was never a proper goodbye between you and the thought drove you mad sometimes. Maybe if I had been there, we could’ve worked this out. You scoffed at the thought, but couldn’t deny the heaviness lingering in your chest.

At times you considered reaching out to him, wondering if he would be willing to give you the closure you so desperately needed. Even if it was just over text, it might be better than the nothing you currently had. You still had his number. The two of you even still followed each other on social media. He liked what few posts you made, but you had never been able to bring yourself to look at the stuff he posted. The lines of communication were there, you just had to use them. But communication is a two-way street; if he wanted to talk to you, he’d reach out. Right? That thought had kept you from texting him more times than you could possibly count.

Questions about what could have happened that day swirled throughout your head as your feet pounded against the pavement. Could you have fixed things, or would it still have ended in breaking up? Could you have agreed to still be friends? Would you have at least been able to say goodbye, or would he have walked silently out the door again?

The thoughts continued to plague you until the ache in your legs was too strong to take another step. Out of breath, you looked around at where you stopped trying to figure out how far you had run. It wasn’t until you noticed the fountain about a dozen feet behind you that you realized where you were.

Tony had once rented out a plaza nearby for a 1920s themed fundraiser gala the first year you and Bucky were dating. The gala was the first public event you ever attended with him, though it certainly hadn’t been your last. Natasha had taken you shopping and helped you find a flapper-style dress leading up to it. The two of you did your hair and makeup together, giggling about how you felt like you were getting ready for a high school dance. When you stepped out of the room with Natasha, Bucky wasn’t able to speak. He spent the whole night staring at you like a lovestruck teenager, only to turn bright red whenever someone mentioned it.

Towards the end of the night, you and Bucky had drunkenly stumbled out of the plaza to escape the crowd and found your way over to this fountain. Rather, you had stumbled out drunkenly. Bucky wasn’t affected by human alcohol and hardly had any of the Asgardian mead Thor had so generously brought. While he was a little more cheery than usual, he wasn’t intoxicated enough to even pretend like he was tipsy.

A giggle left your lips as you stumbled forward. “Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.”

Bucky laughed at you and picked you up, carrying you bridal style. He spun around slowly as he searched for somewhere he could set you down. His eyes eventually settled on the fountain and began walking towards it. He carefully set you down before sitting down next to you. His eyes were fixed on you as you took off your shoes, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you did. You smiled over at him, before turning around to stare at the fountain in wonder. A giggle left your lips as you pulled up your dress and began walking around in the fountain.

You laughed any time you went through a jet of water. The temperature difference was soothing against your skin and almost left a tickling sensation as you passed. Eventually, you arrived back at where he was sitting and the smile on his face filled your stomach with butterflies. You bent down slightly to press your lips against his, your hands making their way through his hair. His hands landed on your hips and pulled you closer to him. You felt dizzy as he held you, though you weren’t sure if it was him or the glasses of champagne. You pulled away abruptly as an idea struck you, leading to Bucky’s eyes opening in confusion. His gaze fell upon the mischievous look you wore and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he managed to make a sound, your hands left his hair and were reaching down to splash water onto him.

He tried to catch your hands to stop you, but you stepped back just out of reach, but not far enough you couldn’t keep splashing him. Without a word, he reached down to take off his shoes and socks. A gasp left you as he stepped into the fountain and you rushed to hide behind the fountain’s centerpiece. He chased after you, hands eventually catching your waist and spinning you around to face him. He stared down at you, wonder and adoration written on his face. He slowly leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

The dizzy feeling from before came back, though this time you could say with absolute certainty it was because of the man standing in front of you. His lips were so soft against yours, yet still carried such a force they left you breathless. Fireworks had nothing on how he made you feel. No words could ever hope to describe the love and adoration bursting in your chest.

This time, he was the one to pull back first. He moved his lips up slightly, pressing a kiss to your nose and your forehead before leaning his head against yours. “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and the two of you began to slow dance in the fountain. You don’t know how long you were in the fountain dancing; it felt like eternity paused to give you and your love all the time the universe had to give so you could enjoy this moment a little longer. The only sensations tying you to reality were Bucky’s warmth and the cool water moving at your feet as Bucky spun you around. You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “We should make a wish,” you said.

Bucky looked at you with confusion. “A wish?”

You nodded, a small smile filling your face, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

The laugh that left his lips made your heart flutter. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he paused to laugh again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.” One of his hands left yours and reached into his pocket, looking for his wallet. He opened it and pulled out two pennies and handed one to you. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

You stared down at the penny in your hand, wondering what wish could possibly be better than the night you were currently having with Bucky. The wish hit you suddenly, a smile breaking out on your face. You pressed your lips to the penny and wished with all your might, ‘I wish for us to have more moments like this together, from now through the rest of our days”. You opened your eyes and tossed the penny outward. Bucky’s coin was soon nestled safely at the bottom of the fountain with yours.

“What did you wish for?” he asked, pulling you back into his arms to continue dancing.

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he spun you. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

Bucky chuckled, “Me too honey, me too.”

Your eyes came back into focus and a quiet sob left you. You stood in front of the fountain and cried into your hands, cursing all of the emotions you felt. That night had left you convinced that Bucky Barnes was the one. You had fallen asleep dreaming of dancing like that with him at your wedding. But now? Now all you wanted to do was scream. You wanted to scream at him, at yourself, and at the universe for being cruel enough to lead you back to this fountain without him at your side.

As the tears began to slow, a new kind of weight settled in your chest. He really could have been the one. He could have been everything you dreamed of and more, but there was nothing you could do to go back in time to change things. He decided to walk out that door and leave you with nothing more than an empty space in your heart, one to match the empty spaces he left in your apartment.

The questions the therapist had asked you started ringing through your ears as you continued to stare blankly at the fountain. What about the ‘after’? Maybe she had a point bringing it up today. You were still stuck in the ‘before’. Maybe it was finally time to start moving on. Missing items could be replaced; missing love could be given by someone else. All you had to do was make the decision to take your first steps into the ‘after’.

Your feet remained glued in place as you tried to make sense of it all.

You were confused as to where you were. Looking around, nothing seemed familiar. It wasn’t until a familiar silhouette caught your attention that you realized where you were. Bucky stood at the top of the mountain, staring down at the canyon below. Green trees and bushes lined the ground and the air was filled with the sound of birds chirping. The view was beautiful, but you couldn’t stop staring at Bucky. He looked the same, yet something felt different. Bucky seemed calmer than you had seen him in years, almost as if all of his stress had faded away. His body language was relaxed and he seemed to be in no rush to leave where he was.

Suddenly, the once green mountain top was now covered in a blanket of snow. Bucky was now wearing a thick winter coat and was strapping his feet onto a snowboard. He soon had his helmet and goggles on and began his descent down the mountain. It felt like you were flying along with him as you watched him expertly weave his way through the trees. The ease at which he moved confused you. Since when did Bucky know how to snowboard? He expressed wanting to try but never had while you were together. Confusion clouded your mind until Bucky reached the bottom of the mountain and came to a halt. He removed his helmet and a look of pure exhilaration filled his face. His excitement made your heart burst. As you reached out to try and touch him, the scene changed once again.

This time you were in the middle of the ocean. The vast expanse of blue was the only visible thing in sight other than Bucky. He was in full scuba gear, just floating there waiting. He was so still that if it weren't for the stream of bubbles that came with each exhale, you wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was breathing. Out of nowhere, a shape appeared in the distance. As it got closer, you felt your stomach drop. A large shark swam slowly towards Bucky. You rolled your eyes at the realization. Of course, he would go swimming with sharks with no safety cage. That idiot had no respect for your nerves or your -

You were woken up abruptly by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned and cursed yourself for it somehow not being on silent. In your confused state, you reached out and slowly felt around on the top of your nightstand trying to find your phone. Once you found it, you tilted the screen so you could see who was calling. A beautiful picture of Natasha filled your screen and you sighed. Only Natasha could call randomly and happen to wake you up from a dream about Bucky. You pressed the answer button and begrudgingly brought the phone to your ear.

“Morning, you better have a good reason for waking me up,” you mumbled, letting out a yawn as you finished speaking.

“It’s past noon, you know. Most decent people are already up by now,” You could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.

“Shut up. It’s still morning if I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. What do you want? I was having a nice dream.”

Your gruff response got a laugh from Natasha. “Well I was calling to see how your Tinder date went last night, but now I’m wondering if I should be asking what you were dreaming about that has you being this testy,” she teased.

You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “The dream was nothing special, I’m just mad you woke me up. The Tinder date was also nothing to write home about. The guy was awful. He started off super charming like they always do, but he got snappy with our waitress and then tried to get snappy with me when I called him out on it. I paid for my half of the bill and left as quickly as I could.”

“Ugh, gross. Men are actually the worst,” Natasha said. You hummed in agreement and she continued, “So are you ready for me to start setting you up, or are you going to keep giving these Tinder people a try?”

You sighed and paused for a moment to think. “Nat, I know you’re trying to help but the only people you have that you can set me up with are all SHIELD employees. I don’t see it ending well if I go down that path given my prior dating history.”

A scoff came through the phone. “He’s dating again too, so he has no right to be pissy about anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, he was also the one who ended it so he doubly has no right to be upset.”

You sat up straight as she spoke, your stomach dropping at the thought. “He’s dating again?” Your voice sounded small, smaller than it had in ages.

This time it was Natasha’s turn to pause before responding. “Yes. He’s taken a few of the receptionists here out on coffee dates, but nothing seems to be sticking. If Wilson is to be believed, he’s also on Tinder. I can’t imagine that’s working out very well for him either though.”

You felt nauseous, but you forced yourself to pause to recenter your thoughts. Of course he would be dating again. It’s been almost a year since you broke up. If you’re dating again, it only makes sense that he is as well. He deserves to be happy too. A heavy sigh left you, “Well, I hope he’s having better luck than I am.”

***

You were on the phone with Natasha for another twenty minutes before she had to go. It felt nice catching up with her, and the two of you made plans for another lunch get together later in the week. The conversation had quickly transitioned away from dating, but the fact Bucky was dating again lingered in the back of your mind for the entirety of the call.

You had been on Tinder for a while now, but somehow it never occurred to you that he might be too. How does a superhero just casually join the worst dating app in existence? Do people actually believe it’s him when they come across his profile? You couldn’t help but snort at the thought. Conversations on dating apps sucked enough as it is, but having to try and prove you’re who you say you are the way Bucky must have to certainly would make it that much less enjoyable.

Almost as if it knew you were thinking about it, a Tinder notification popped up on your lock screen. You opened up the app and saw two new messages from someone you had matched with. You typed out a response and then proceeded to scroll through the list of other potential matches. Most of the profiles you looked at were immediate no’s, but there were a few you swiped right on. It never ceased to amaze you how bad the men on this app were at smiling in pictures. Most of them had only a slight grin in one or two pictures. Any profile with a man properly smiling almost always got a swipe right. The only other type of picture that had that sort of response was for cute cats and dogs.

You continued to swipe, pausing occasionally to respond to a message. Out of nowhere, a familiar pair of blue eyes started staring up at you, causing you to nearly drop your phone in surprise. Of course the day you find out Bucky is on Tinder is the day you come across his profile. You quickly took a screenshot before swiping left and exiting out of the app. You sent the screenshot to Natasha. She responded almost immediately, Guess Wilson was telling the truth 🙄

You laughed at her response as you got out of bed, ready to finally start your day.

***

A sigh of relief left you as you collapsed on your couch after spending most of the afternoon running errands. It hadn’t been anything too bad, but that didn’t stop you from being thankful it was over. You laid there for a few minutes, just enjoying the stillness and the comfort of being on your couch. Once settled, you reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the glass of wine you had poured, and opened up your phone.

You opened up Snapchat and responded to the few snaps you had from Natasha and other friends before opening up Instagram. You mindlessly watched people’s stories, skipping through any of the ones that didn’t interest you. You paused however on Bucky’s.

He was standing next to a beautiful woman, each of them holding a painting in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Both of them had smiles that filled their faces. You stared at the picture, unsure of what you should be feeling. On one hand, it was nice seeing him so relaxed and happy. His posture reminded you eerily of how he looked in your dream. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of bitterness. You had practically begged him to go with you to a wine and paint night while you were together. He always used work as an excuse, either he was too tired from work or he had too much work left to do. You stared at the picture for a minute longer, wondering if they’d be going home together or parting ways for the night. You sighed, shaking your head at your own stupidity before continuing to scroll.

The wind blew violently around you as you struggled to make your way up the street. The weather turned unexpectedly as you were out on your run, so you rushed towards the closest coffee shop hoping to wait out the weather and avoid having to pay for a cab back home. The barista greeted you as you stepped inside and you offered her a smile.

“What can I get for you?” she asked.

You stared up at the menu, considering your options. “One large hazelnut latte and a cinnamon roll, please.”

She entered everything into the computer and you held out your card for her. Once your payment was processed, you turned to find a seat. The coffee shop was crowded, no doubt due to the bad weather driving people indoors. You looked around unsuccessfully and had almost resigned yourself to standing when a familiar voice called out.

You jumped at the sound. You turned around and made eye contact with Bucky Barnes for the first time since he walked out your front door. He was sitting there grinning ear to ear, almost as if he was genuinely happy to see you. The thought made your heart burst and it was impossible to hold back an equally big smile.

“Hey Bucky, how’s it going?”

“It’s going really well! Thanks for asking,” he paused and looked around before continuing, “Do you want to sit down? There’s not a lot of seating left and it’s just me here.” His hand gestured towards the empty seat across from him as he spoke.

You paused, unsure of if you should take it or continue to look elsewhere. You looked around the room for an empty seat but didn’t see any. Well, I guess we’re doing this. You stepped forward and mumbled out a thanks as you sat down.

“I’m kind of surprised to see you here if I’m honest. I didn’t think you came to this part of the city very often,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I generally don’t. The weather took a bit of a nasty turn while I was out on my run. I stepped in hoping that by the time I’m ready to leave it’ll have calmed down.”

Another smile broke out across his face as you spoke. “You’re running again? That’s awesome.” He sounded sincere as he spoke which made you smile back.

You nodded, but before you could respond the barista arrived with your coffee and cinnamon roll. You thanked her and took a long sip of your coffee, enjoying the warmth you felt as you did. An awkward silence filled the air as both of you tried to size the other up. You decided to break the silence.

“So, what’s new with you?”

***

An hour later, the two of you were still chatting away happily at the table. Once the conversation started, it didn’t stop. Everything felt like it had at the start of your relationship: easy, comfortable, and filled with excitement. The only pauses that occurred were when the barista refilled both of your coffees and brought Bucky a cinnamon roll, which he ordered after you spent five minutes going on about how incredible it was.

One of the things you had forgotten about being around Bucky was the warmth he exuded. Even on his worst days, he had the unwavering ability to make the room feel safe. You couldn’t ever quite pin down whether it had to do with his cologne being a comforting smell or if that’s just who he was. All you knew is that he always left you aching to lean into his chest and stay there until you absolutely couldn’t. Needless to say, today it left you feeling quite confused given everything that had happened between you.

The thoughts you had several months ago about getting closure were brought back to the forefront of your mind. How had things gotten so bad between you? How had both of you let this wonderful thing fall to pieces without even one final attempt at holding it together? Each little pause in the conversation as you transitioned between topics left you aching to ask all of the questions you had. Everything was so easy and so smooth between you today that you almost felt hope that things were salvageable between you. Maybe, just maybe, your fountain wish could still come true. As you were finally working up the courage to ask, his next sentence knocked all other thoughts out of your head.

“Did you hear that Steve and Sharon are finally engaged? Took that meathead long enough to ask.”

A gasp left your mouth, “No way! It’s about freaking time. Have they picked a date yet?”

He nodded. “First weekend in June. Sharon’s already picked their wedding colors too; sage green and rose gold. She explicitly said she picked rose gold because she wants to serve that rosé champagne you introduced her to. It’s still her favorite to this day.”

A bittersweet smile made its way onto your face as you thought about what he said. You had brought two bottles of that sparking rosé to a dinner Sharon hosted once, back when she and Steve were still circling around their feelings for each other. Sharon had barely taken her first sip before asking you for details on where you bought it. Ever since, Sharon always had a bottle in her fridge. Her friendship was the one you missed the most after the breakup. There had been a few half-hearted attempts from both of you to reach out, but each time her responses felt forced. Eventually you stopped trying.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful wedding. They deserve it,” you said. A chuckle left your lips as a new thought entered your head. “How on Earth is Steve going to choose between you and Sam for best man?”

Bucky joined in on your laughter, making your stomach do summersault after summersault. “Sam and I were actually wondering the same thing, but apparently they’ve decided to not do a bridal party. That makes things easy for me though. I get to kick back and enjoy the wedding knowing I have no responsibilities.”

The idea of Bucky having a blast at a wedding made you smile. The smile faded slightly as you realized this meant Bucky was now going to need a date for this wedding. Images of him in a fancy suit, twirling another woman around the way he had in the fountain with you flashed before your eyes. You felt your heart breaking all over again at the thought of how it could’ve been you if you hadn’t fucked it all up. How stupid could you have been thinking the two of you could talk things out after all this time. He’s probably already planning on asking that girl from the wine and paint night to go with him. She had appeared on his social media several times since that night and each time it made your chest ache a little more. Bucky’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You tried smiling but felt yourself falter and knew he noticed it too. “Yeah, just caught up in my thoughts.” You needed to get out of here and fast. Conveniently, your phone screen lit up and you were able to fake gasp at the time. “Oh my god, look how late it is. I really should get going.”

Bucky stared at you, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change in the atmosphere. You stood and rushed to collect your things.

“It was really nice seeing you again Bucky,” you said, offering him a half-smile as you take your first steps away from the table. He nodded, still looking unconvinced.

“It really was. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” He asked, trying his hardest to keep too much optimism from creeping into his voice.

Your eyes went wide with surprise, but you slowly nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

The same awkward silence from before filled the air, only this time neither of you seemed to know how to break it. You offered a small wave and made your way out the door, refusing to turn around and hug him despite how strongly your body was screaming at you to do so.

Bucky stood there staring after you until you were out of sight. A sigh left him after you rounded a corner and he began to collect his things.

***

Bucky had made his way back to the Avengers compound with relative ease, though his mind was still stuck back at the coffee shop with you. He had nearly choked on his coffee when he saw you walk in and hardly realized what he was doing when he called out to you. His mind had started screaming at him from the second he offered you a seat and apparently had yet to find a good enough reason to stop. Talking to you had been magical. He had forgotten how well the two of you meshed once a conversation was started. Nobody else had ever been able to keep up with his constant jumping between topics, not even Sam and Steve. You never made him feel bad for his quick transitions; you just understood and accepted that was the way his mind worked. Even after all that time, you took it all in stride.

An unexpected slam of a cabinet door caught his attention as he made his way through the communal kitchen. Sam was standing there, unloading dishes from the dishwasher. Bucky greeted the man with a gentle nod of the head as he pulled out one of the barstools to sit.

“That was a long coffee shop visit, you run into a cute girl there?” Sam teased, smirk playing across his face.

“I ran into her.”

Sam’s motions paused as he processed Bucky’s words. He looked up at his friend, who was conveniently not meeting his gaze, unsure of how to respond. “Her as in…?”

Bucky nodded and Sam let out a slow puff of air. “How are you feeling?” Sam asked cautiously.

It took a few minutes for Bucky to find the words. “You know Sammy, I actually don’t know. There are too many contradictory feelings in my head to pinpoint just one.” He finally looked up and met Sam’s eyes.

Sam motioned for him to continue.

“It was so nice to see her again and talk to her. It made me feel like things were back when we were both still head over heels in love with each other. She’s doing so well. She’s made huge progress mentally, she’s been given a promotion at work, she’s just out there living her life. It made me so happy to see...

“But the happier I got sitting there talking to her, the angrier I got with myself for being such an ass while I was with her. Who has a woman like that in their life and chooses to ignore her for work? What kind of jerk does that?” He paused for a moment, staring down at his feet before continuing.

“There was a moment where she looked at me and I looked at her and I just knew we were both wondering where the hell we went so wrong. She looked like she wanted to say something so badly, but decided against it and just...got up and left. I kinda deserved it though-” he let out a dark chuckle, “- it’s what I did to her after all.”

Sam had continued unloading the dishes as Bucky spoke, trying to keep things casual while he got everything off his chest. Once Sam knew Bucky was done, he paused and rested both hands on the counter to give his friend his full attention.

“Yeah, you were an ass who put work first. She was a great girl who loved you unconditionally. You let her down and yourself down too. But she also had her issues that contributed to what happened. It’s not all on you.” Sam shot a reassuring smile at Bucky.

Bucky nodded, knowing Sam was right. He couldn’t help but sigh and put his head in his hands though as more thoughts swirled around in his head. “I can’t help but think about how my actions probably worsened things for her though, you know? She was depressed for a while before I started acting that way, but I certainly didn’t help the situation. And just...I walked out on her. I walked out and didn’t even give her a proper goodbye.”

Sam stood still and nodded along. “You did, but what you’re forgetting is that you also did because it was also the best thing for you at the time. Both of you were unhappy with who the other was becoming at that time. Sometimes breaking up is the best route to take and they don’t always end with a clear-cut goodbye. You guys may have missed out on some closure, but if today went as well as you said it did, maybe you’ve got a different kind of closure coming down the pipe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked up at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed softly, “Man, what did your dumb ass do with girls before I came along?” He continued laughing for a moment before resuming, “What I’m getting at is that if today went as well as you think before the awkward ending, what if there’s a possibility of reconciling? Even if it’s not in a romantic sense, you could always try and be friends.”

For a moment, Bucky’s heart surged. Maybe Sam was right, maybe things could be fixed. He knew things were going well before you got up to leave, maybe he could try and make things right.

Then, the memory of how uneasy and uncomfortable you looked at the end of the conversation replayed in his mind. He felt his throat tighten and tears well up in his eyes. You didn’t want him back. He had his chance today and he blew it.

He shook his head slowly and whispered, “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Sammy.”

***

Sam eventually let the topic drop and Bucky was free to make his way back to his rooms. A familiar meow rang out from across the room and was soon followed by the sound of excited footsteps rushing towards him. Alpine rubbed himself against Bucky’s legs, meowing expectantly. He chuckled and crouched down to rub Alpine’s ears.

“Hey there buddy, did you miss me?”

Alpine meowed, almost as if to say yes. Bucky smiled and picked up the cat before standing up. He made his way to his bedroom and let Alpine jump down onto the bed once they were close enough. His boots were kicked off haphazardly at the foot of the bed before he climbed into bed. Alpine came and curled up under one of his arms, purring slightly as he did. A sigh left him as he mindlessly pet the cat and adjusted his position until he was comfortable.

Bucky’s thoughts turned back to you almost immediately. His heart ached as he began to relive the night he knew he had fallen in love with you. How he wished he could go back in time and experience it all over again.

“So, Stark is holding a fundraiser in about three weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” Bucky asked.

The smile on your face made his heart flutter. “Of course! What’s the dress code?” you asked. “I’m not sure if I have anything fancy enough to wear to a Stark gala.”

“It’s a 1920s theme. I’m not entirely sure what he means by that though, considering I was barely old enough to remember the first half of the decade.”

A teasing smile broke out across your face as he spoke. “So what you're telling me is the oldest man in the room somehow still isn’t old enough to remember the roaring twenties? Tsk tsk,” Your teasing tone made him laugh and lean over to kiss you.

“I’ll have you know young lady -” he paused to place kisses all over your face “- this is a completely unacceptable thing to say. Don’t you know you should respect your elders?” You continued to giggle as he continued to kiss you.

***

On the day of the gala, you were whisked away early in the day by Natasha. She claimed the whole day was needed to properly prepare, which left Bucky standing there rolling his eyes. But when you finally stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the compound, Bucky felt his heart stop. You looked ethereal. The flapper style dress you were wearing fit you perfectly, your hair was elegantly framing your face, and your lips were painted the most perfect shade of red he had ever seen. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire night.

By the end of the night, the champagne finally had gone to your head and you were desperate to leave. You grabbed his hand giggling, rushing as quickly as you could out of the reserved plaza. You stumbled a few times over the uneven cobblestones, so he kept a hand on your waist just in case.

“Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.” you giggled as you spoke, making his heart flutter for the millionth time that night. Without a word, he picked you up bridal style and slowly spun around as he searched for somewhere you could sit.

His eyes landed on a large fountain a short distance away and he began walking towards it. You settled comfortably into his arms, with one hand sneaking under his tux jacket and gripping gently onto his shirt just over his heart. Bucky wondered if you could tell it was about ready to beat out of his chest as he leaned slightly to set you down on the fountain’s edge. He had hardly sat down next to you before your heels were kicked off. It was amazing how much more relaxed you looked just from doing that.

He was so focused on how beautiful you looked he almost didn’t hear you giggle or realize what you were about to do. His jaw dropped slightly as you stood in front of him in the fountain, dress pulled up slightly as you waded in.

Bucky’s eyes never left you as you walked around, letting out the cutest laughs with each stream of water that you walked under. When you arrived back at where he was sitting and his whole world stopped as you bent forward to press your sweet lips against his. Your hands found their way to his hair as his made their way to your hips. With every ounce of his being, he wished his hands could make their home. They belonged there, allowing him to hold you so tightly against him it was almost impossible to tell where his body stopped and yours began.

It startled him when you pulled away suddenly, but the confusion didn’t last long as he was met with a handful of water and mischievous laughter. The splashing was relentless. You refused to stop despite him begging for you to quit it. He rushed to remove his shoes and socks so he could jump into the fountain with you. The excited squeal that left your mouth as you started rushing through the water trying to escape him made him grin. He was going to catch you and you knew it. That didn’t stop you from trying to delay the inevitable though. You tried to hide behind the fountain's centerpiece and to fake which direction you were going to run. When you decided to leave the safety of the centerpiece, he had you back in his arms facing him within seconds.

As he watched your face, the overwhelming urge to confess the extent of his feelings filled his chest. He loved you. He had known for weeks now, but staring at your beautiful face reaffirmed it so deeply in his soul that it felt like an integral part of who he was now. Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed him. Instead, he leaned forward and he channeled everything he had into a kiss. He wanted this to be the kind of kiss written about in fairytales; one that leaves audiences tearing up over and longing for. He hoped you felt everything he didn’t have the courage to say tonight and the small voice in his head hoped you felt the same.

He felt you smile into the kiss, making his heart swell. He pulled away gently after a moment, staying close enough to press kisses across your face. You had told him once how special you felt when he did it; now he couldn't stop doing it. He needed you to know how special you were to him, how loved you were in his arms. When he was satisfied, he rested his forehead against yours. An idea struck him and he smiled at you, “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and he began to lead you in a slow dance throughout the fountain. He had never felt more grateful for the dancing experience he gained in his youth and that it was a skill he somehow kept throughout the years of brainwashing and torture. The feeling of your body against his calmed his mind and kept his focus from wandering back to the past. The only thing he wanted to think about right now was how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to have you.

After a few minutes of him leading you aimlessly around the fountain, you pulled away gently and looked up at him with a smile. “We should make a wish.”

His face twisted with confusion. “A wish?”

You smiled as you nodded at him, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

Bucky laughed as he thought about how much like a fairytale this night was turning into. Apparently his kiss had done the trick. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he chuckled again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your hand and fished around in his pocket until he found his wallet. He’d never felt more relieved to see pennies in his life as he pulled out the only two coins he had. He pressed one into your hand as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

He watched as you stared down at the penny, wondering what wish you were going to make. Your face was serious as you thought but broke out into the most beautiful smile. You stood there, coin pressed to your lips, before tossing it out into the fountain. You stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his wish.

He didn’t need to stop and think about his wish. He knew what his wish was from the day he met you. Following your motions, he pressed the penny to his lips and wished, ‘I wish for a life filled with more wonderful nights like this, with this beautiful woman in my arms’. He tossed the coin in and his hand found its way back into yours.

Without a word, he pulled you back in close to him and resumed leading you around the fountain. After a few moments of peaceful silence, he spoke.

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you said, voice teasing as you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

“Me too honey, me too.”

As the memory faded, Bucky couldn’t help but let the tears that had been building fall. That night had been so wonderful. You deserve someone who could give you nothing but nights like that, not the heartache he put you through. He closed his eyes and whispered to no one but himself, “You could’ve been the one. You should’ve been the one...”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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chaoticallygray · 3 years

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Hi! How are you? Can I request a oneshot about Leopold from the Irregulars? Like that they get into some sort of an argument and the reader storms out, Leo chases after them and accidentally confesses? It's fine if you don't want to do it.

Requested by: Anon!

Hi!! I'm good I hope you're good too! Wasnt sure what gender or pronouns you wanted so I tried to stay general. Might have gone a bit overboard but go big or go home right?? I hope you like it anon even though I feel like I strayed a bit

It had been another day of running with the gang and solving another case given to them by Watson. It was also another day where Y/N felt utterly useless. It wasn't an entirely new feeling for them but with the added cases it felt like everyone had a part to play. Spike made sure everyone got along and always lighened up the room, Jesse had that whole psychic thing going on with her, Billy was the muscle, Bea was the leader and always had a plan, Leo was the brains, and Y/N was just... there. Y/N tried to help but was always told to stand aside. It never really seemed apparent that Y/N didn't do anything necessary to help on cases (not for a lack of trying) until earlier that day.

---

Leo, Y/N, and surprisingly Billy were tasked to find information on any and every poison that could be found in London as two women and a man had suddenly died in their homes and were all found with a note in their hands saying that the clock is ticking.

They'd been trying to solve this case for two days now and getting antsy. They were stuck.

"I'm going to go over there and see what I can find. I'm thinking they could have been injected something or someone poisoned their food." Leo said already grabbing three different books from the shelves and mumbling to himself.

Billy and Y/N looked at each other and shrugged. They were used to Leo being this odd when it came to books. It was his thing.

Heading in a different direction than Billy, Y/N started brainstorming letting their hand glide through some books until a book about botany caught her eye. Whenever Y/N could have more than an hour alone they liked to read. It's not really a secret but they have never mentioned it to the others especially now that Leo joined. He was so much smarter than Y/N and that was precisely what made him catch Y/N's attention when they were first introduced on the case with the missing babies.

Shaking their head and smiling fondly at the memory Y/N sighed. There was no way Leo would ever look twice at them. They weren't going to even entertain the thought. There was a case to solve.

Opening the book, Y/N realized that they had read this one before which was why it probably caught their eye in the first place. Closing it and going to place it back where it belonged Y/N remembered having read about a plant capable of causing respiratory problems and stopping the heart of anyone that touched it for merey a second. Quickly trying to find the page on the plant Y/N ran back to where Leo was looking like a madman with fifteen different books open around him.

"Leo!" Y/N exclaimed and then dropped their voice to a whisper remembering where they were with a blush.

"I think I've found it" Y/N whispered to Leo who wasnt paying attention.

"Yeah Y/N go ask Billy to read it for you. This is important" Leo said waving around a hand in dismissal not really listening to Y/N.

"What? No Leo I think I found what they were poisoned with." Y/N said confused by what he said about finding Billy.

"Y/N don't be ridiculous. Can you stop? I really need to find this" Leo said not even sparing Y/N a glance just continued flipping through different books.

"But Leo..." Y/N started protesting but was caught off by Leo slamming a book closed.

"Y/N stop it! I need silence to think and you going about whatever it is you think you found isn't helping. You never actually help us solve the cases so can you do me a favour and go look at a book with pictures or something while I find the poison and we can all get a decent nights sleep?" Leo told Y/N without even thinking about how he just basically called the one person who is always there for him and the one person he has been heavily crushing on since they met, useless.

Immediately standing up to apologize he didn't get the chance as Y/N whose lip was already trembling slammed the book they had in their hands onto Leo's chest where he already knew he was going to bruise but at this point he thought he deserved worse for hurting Y/N like that.

Running out of the room Y/N nearly collided with a confused Billy.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Billy asked but was promptly ignored.

Billy looked back to Leo who had a kicked puppy look to him shocked at what he had said.

Shaking his head at Leo, Billy went outside to try to find one of his best friends with no such luck.

Y/N was already long gone.

---

Falling asleep miserable yet with no tears was something Y/N was not a stranger to. It had been happening too frequently now and at this point they're exhausted.

Y/N didn't go back to the cellar that day. Whenever they needed space to breathe and just br they always go to a surprisingly very empy not so much of an alleyway near the docks. There is a small nook int he corner where Y/N can sleep peacefully without unwanted company. For safety reasons Y/N only told Spike about this place in case the gang needed Y/N for something. So far, they hadn't.

It was precisely here that Leo found Y/N the next day. He had immediately wanted to run off after them but Billy told him to give them space. When Y/N didn't go back to the cellar that night well after the case was solved, Leo got concerned and started overthinking. He couldn't sleep and all he could think about was how he messed up. He was scared that Y/N didn't want to be friends anymore. Yes, he dreams about being more but he rather be friends than have nothing.

The next day when the rest woke up Leo was still sitting near the cellar doors waiting for Y/N to come back. He looked as though someone punched both his eyes.

"Mate why don't you go to sleep? Y/N will be back" Spike said trying to reassure him.

"I can't. I need to apologize. I didn't mean it I was just stressed." Leo said looking up at Spike, who had a hand on his shoulder, with wet and red eyes.

"Look mate, I'm only telling you this because I've seen you two. You're great together and the best thing is you don't realize you both like each other" Spike said sighing and then told Leo where Y/N was probably at.

Quickly thanking Spike, Leo wasted no time and ran as fast as he could out of the cellar doors on his way to make things right.

Arriving at the docks, Leo went to the left and tried to find the little alleyway Spike told him. Walking as quick as he could with his cane he finally spotted Y/N sitting on top of a wall just looking out at the water.

Stopping at the wall Leo took a second to admire Y/N. The sun was still low in the skyly but it was making Y/N's eyes shine and he had never seen then more serene than in that moment. He wished he could see that everyday and he hated to think that he was the reason why Y/N was upset enough that they didn't feel like they should have gone back to the cellar the day before.

"Are you here to call me useless again or are you just going to stare?" Y/N said without looking over at Leo who was momentarily startled out of his staring spell.

"I'm actually here to apologize." Leo answered.

"Save your breath Leo. You can go back and tell Bea or whoever sent you that I'm fine and I'll go back to the cellar later" Y/N said jumping off from the wall they were sat in and starting to walk away. Leo quickly trying to catch up with his limp.

"No one sent me I-" Leo started but was quickly cut off when Y/N sharply turned around to face him.

"Not surprising since I'm useless." Y/N said to Leo scoffing and turning around once again to continue on their journey with no destination.

"No Y/N listen please" Leo said but Y/N didn't care they just kept walking.

"Y/N" Leo kept trying with no luck.

Getting tired but not willing to stop, Leo tried to speed up but his leg thought that this was the best time to lock up and seize movement and he fell.

Hearing Leo's quick grunt of pain and a slight thud, Y/N turned around and seeing him groaning on the floor trying to get up quickly ran back to help him.

"No, no stop I deserve it." Leo said swatting away Y/N's hands.

Not listening to him Y/N got him in a sitting position. Rolling Leo's pant leg Y/N assessed the situation and didn't think he needed anything more than rest and something cold against his leg. Also less restricting clothes.

"Why are you helping me?" Leo croaked after a minute of looking at Y/N with tears in his eyes from the pain.

Y/N just looked at him and got a small tin from the bag they're always carrying.

Opening the tin and pushing some type of paste on their fingers, Y/N concentrated on applying a light and even coat on Leo's leg hoping the mixture would help soothe the pain.

"You're not useless." Leo said and Y/N hesitated for a second then went back to applying the salve not saying anything.

"I didn't mean what I said. I should have never said that to you. The case was taking so long and my leg was starting to bother me but Billy was there and I didn't want to say anything. I always slow us down. I was angry at myself. At my body and I took it out on the last person I ever wanted to hurt" Leo said closing his eyes willing himself not to cry.

Hearing no response just feeling light careful touches on his leg he continued spilling his thoughts.

"You're so brave and compassionate. You're so so smart and so kind. You always make sure that everyone has eaten and you always somehow know when one of us is having a bad day and you make it your mission to make us smile at least once. You're always polite and make sure to help anyone you see that needs help. You're so selfless Y/N. Always helping everyone and I wish I could help you and treat you like a queen but I'm always hurt and you deserve the world. You deserve someone who isn't afraid to climb a tree with you or even do something as simple as walking all over London. I can't be that and it pains me because I'm so in love with you and I'm so incredibly sorry for hurting you. All you do is help and I called you useless" Leo rambled hoping that Y/N will forgive him not even noticing that he slipped up and told them that he was in love with them.

Sensing that Y/N stopped their movements on his leg Leo opened his eyes thinking that Y/N left him. What he didn't expect was for Y/N to look at him with tears in their eyes.

"You, you're in love with me?" Y/N whispered scared that if they talked louder the moment will have turned out to be a dream.

Widening his eyes Leo finally realized what he said.

"No! I mean yes! I'm in love with you Y/N. I didn't mean to say that! I know you don't feel the same and I know you want someone stronger and not broken like I am but I can't help my feelings. It's ok though I'll leave. I'll leave you alone-" Leo was cut off from his nervous babble when a pair of lips pressed firmly to his.

Hesitantly pulling back from him, Y/N smiled softly at him not caring that they're still on the ground near the docks but needing to say this now.

"I'm in love with you too Leopold" Y/N said and with that Leo didn't care anymore about his leg that strangely enough had stopped hurting when Y/N started applying the salve but he saves that thought for later and focuses on how the person he thought he could never have loves him of all people.

"Are you sure?" Leo said placing both of his hands on Y/N cheeks wiping away a tear that seemed to have escaped from their eyes.

"Yeah I am. I love you" Y/N said looking into his eyes.

"I love you so much" Leo whispered before pulling in Y/N for another kiss.

#the irregulars one shot #the irregulars x reader #the irregulars #leopold #leo x reader

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

falling for you

Tsukishima Kei x reader - Scenario

a/n: ok so, trying to portray fluff with Tsukki was a challenge characteristically, but i’ll be damned if i don’t try. lemme know who i should try next~ i’m open for requests :)

warnings: slight cursing, mentions blood/wounds (nothing angsty)

wc: 1680

---

Tsukishima never intended to get to know you.

He had actually been avoiding you for quite some time.

You see, you got under his skin in the most irritating ways.

It wasn’t like how he loathed Hinata or Kageyama. Or his annoyance with incredibly slow grocery clerks. It wasn’t even similar to the exhaustive irritations he experienced toward the end of a full volleyball match.

Yes, these things are problematic, but Tsukishima can handle almost any obstacle.

You see, his cold, calculated presence soaks in every detail of life for the purpose of learning how to dismantle an issue. He resassesses, maneuver, and overcomes. There’s a reason the boy is so good at blocking.

However of all the problems he could have... this one is the worst.

Previously, he had everything he possibly could, under his control.

But when you came along? Oh, he had absolutely no experience with handling this level of meddling.

Because it isn’t even your fault.

You just somehow manage to interrupt all of his patterns and sneak your way into a majority of his thoughts.

Every. Single. Day.

So it isn’t a surprise that Tsukki, a master of mental strength and strategy, would be enraged by his inability to pin down his feelings for you.

For example, last week, you accidentally bumped into his arm, stumbling a bit. Tsukki grabbed your arm before you could hit the floor, but as his hand meets your skin he feels as though he’s taken a fall of his own.

His heart fluttered.

And when you immediately turned to him, apologizing and thanking him sweetly and sincerely, his whole mind went numb.

You make him feel confused. Uncertain. And… real.

But that doesn’t mean he likes those feelings. No, he doesn’t, Tsukishima tries to convince himself.

So why is it you that he pictures your figure whenever he closes his eyes? Or that your laugh echos through his head after someone tells you a cheesy joke from across the classroom? Or how whenever you call his name, he can’t help but temper his irate disposition?

You’ve got him spinning in circles and it’s driving him wild.

Because Tsukishima doesn’t want to need anyone. Not a friend. Not A lover. And he definitely isn’t in the market for another disappointment.

However, as much as he tries to avoid you, your touch, your smile, he can’t seem to stop running into you. He can’t bury his feelings for you, as much as he wishes he could.

Even though he’s tried to find reasons to hate, laugh at, or ridicule you, he simply can’t. Because the reason you are so bothersome and so obnoxious has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with his inability to cope with how relentlessly wonderful you are in his eyes.

---

Your walk home conveniently crosses with Tsukki’s own path and every so often he’s out of volleyball practice just in time to run into you. An increasing occurrence over the past couple of months.

Tsukishima may not realize or want to admit it, but he treasures the rare moments where he’ll walk in sync with you. His stride subconsciously copies yours, slowing him down significantly, and somehow it’s okay.

You, harboring your own feelings toward the blonde, always try to make small talk or ramble about your day, doing your best to find some type of common ground with the tall boy next to you.

He finds himself responding to you again.

He’s tried for so long to not get involved, but over the past few days, he can’t help but let his thoughts flow. You make him uncomfortably comfortable, if that’s at all possible.

His snarky comments are (currently) nonexistent. His abrasive nature, moderated.

I mean, of course he’s dripping with sarcasm, but Tsukki wouldn’t change that part of himself for anyone.

Today something seemed to have clicked between you two, likely due to Tsukishima briefly relinquishing his stubbornness and fear of connection. It’s infrequent, but with your consistency, he’s finding himself far more capable of seeing outside of his past.

As the conversation picks up speed, so do your feet. The pebbled path you walk doesn’t help you keep your footing, so you find yourself unsteady and sliding every once in a while.

Suddenly, your feet are out from under you, and similarly to the week before, you plummet to the earth.

You’re not quite as fortunate this time, because as quickly as Tsukki swoops down to catch you, your hands and knees are already covered in dirt, sand, and bits of rock. Scraped and bleeding, you do your best to calm yourself down and assess the situation… so you turn to Tsukki.

Poor boy looks so awkward, unsure of what to say, but still attempting to keep his cool demeanor.

“Are you okay?” He asks, crouching down to meet your eyes. As masked as it is, you see a flicker of concern in his expression.

He takes your hand in his, trying not to let his feelings intervene with your pain, and studies the tears in your skin.

“I- I’m okay,” You stammer, partially from the pain, but mostly from his gentle touch.

“Okay… let me see if I have anything that’ll help.” Turning toward his bag.

It aches and the grimace on your face shows just how nasty the gash on your knee really is.

He gently lets your hand down, taking out tissues from his backpack and uses one to wipe off your knee while you use another to apply pressure to your hands.

The air is very still, almost as though it chose to pause for this moment.

“Hm, the weather actually is nicer down here for you short kids. I’m envious.” Tsukki jokes, breaking the tense silence.

“Haha, very funny. Maybe if you ever fall down, I’ll actually be able to catch you, since I’m already down here.” You retort playfully.

“Okay captain sassy, whatever you say.” He shoots back, “Now how ‘bout we see if you can actually stand up.”

He offers you his hand once again, the feeling making your heart race and his face go blank.

You attempt to straighten out your legs entirely, moving a foot forward, but find yourself in extreme discomfort.

Tsukki notices and without skipping a beat, suggests,

“Well, I can… y’know, carry you?” He turns his head, the lightest dusting of pink touching his cheeks.

You, still using his hand for support, look down, your face becoming red.

“I think that may be the, uhm, best option. It hurts a lot.”

He silently stoops down, placing his arms under your knees and behind your back, making sure to not agitate the wound any further.

The walk continues in a nervous, but intimately close manner. Neither of your eyes knowing what to focus on.

So you decide to fixate on him for a moment,

“I’m sorry about all this… I should’ve watched my step.” You express, “But… I’ve really enjoyed our walk together.” You crack a warm smile.

Tsukki returns your gaze, pulse jumping slightly, his honey-brown hued irises capturing your soft (e/c) eyes,

“Yeah, dumbass. You should’ve at least remembered how big of a clutz you are.” He smirks.

“But I guess this was nice… not so much the falling part…” He takes a moment to consider his next few words, breathing a little deeper.

“But these walks, speaking with you…” He averts his gaze,

“Just you, actually, y/n.” If your blush wasn’t already apparent, it was clear now.

He’s approaching your house as he finishes his sentence, but it feels as you’re both walking through time and space. A small galaxy opening up just for the two of you.

Reality stops in moments like these, Tsukki notes.

And it doesn’t feel… bad.

It feels right. Nice, even.

Before making it up to your front door, you reach your soft hand toward Tsukishima’s forcibly stoic face.

While outwardly, he’s kept his composure, his insides are producing so many SOS signals, it’s not even funny.

You lean forward, hand resting on his jaw, and place a short kiss to his cheek.

Leaning back, you catch a look of adoration in his eyes. Something he has no idea he’s physically showing right now.

He takes this chance to capture your soft lips in a kiss.

He hasn’t really done this before, but Tsukki gets how a kiss should work.

What didn’t cross his methodical, logic-based brain was just how good it would feel. Like a cloud, back-lit by golden sunlight, or a perfect chord progression to the most touching ballad.

It’s imperfect, but it’s electric.

Your lips melded with his so well, every second melting away his icier emotions. It began to introduce him to a new reason for life and a new meaning to love.

He eventually sets you down in front of your door.

But he has your hand lightly held in his, careful not to disturb the scrapes.

A huge grin spreads through your face, eyes lit up.

And he now knows why he can’t stop thinking about you. You really are a necessary part of his life. Worthy of breaking routines. Special enough to stop his flow and grumpily facetime you. Important enough to reshape himself to account for your existence.

With this final realization, Tsukki goes to his next line of action.

“So, are you free Friday?” He inquires.

“Actually, yeah! Can we go see that new dinosaur movie? I’m kind of obsessed with it.”

“Well, damn. This is gonna be even better than I expected.” He smirks, leaving you confused, but smiling at his response.

No, he wasn’t going to tell you about his discoveries from that day.

At least not in great detail.

But, thanks to this… to you, Tsukishima is learning to open himself up again. To take chances on himself and others. A process that is never too early to begin.

All it took was helping you back onto your feet to get you into his arms.

Something that both literally and relationally makes a whole lot of sense for some reason, Tsukki concludes.

#lmao my titles are so cheesy #the fic isn't tho #just fluffy and sweet #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff #hq fanfic #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima oneshot #tsukki #sneezefiction

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jeonsjiddies · 4 years

Text

8 letters | knj (m)

summary- If all it is is eight letters. Why is it so hard to say? If all it is is eight letters, why am I in my own way? Why do I pull you close and then ask you for space? If all it is is eight letters, why is it so hard to say?

8 letters - why don't we

or, emotionally constipated Namjoon is too scared to admit he's in love with you.

rating- explicit 18+

word count- 6071

pairing- namjoon x reader

genre- fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: mentions of jimin x reader, daddy kink, rough sex, edging, jealous Namjoon

a/n: thanks again to @sweetnspicy93 for beta reading and helping me bounce ideas back and forth. Love you <3

Find Jimin’s happy ending here (both stories can be read alone.)

Namjoon typically thought of himself as a pretty intelligent man. He was clumsy, but he was competent. He could solve an equation in his head in under a minute, he’d learned English on his own. He could read a novel in a few hours, and constantly sought out new knowledge. Namjoon was book smart. When it came to love though, Namjoon felt like an idiot.

He wasn’t in denial or anything, he was aware of how he felt and he could name it. It’s not like Namjoon didn’t know he was in love with you, he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He wanted to, god he wanted to. He wanted to tell you everything and pull you into his arms and show you everything he’d bottled inside over the past few years.

If he could just shut off his brain long enough to throw caution to the wind, he would tell you everything. If he could stop thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong, he would take a chance. If he could stop worrying about ruining everything, he would do something. But Namjoon can’t figure out how to turn his brain off, so he just sits. And stares.

You’d met Namjoon in college, both of you timid freshmen in a large lecture class who got paired together for a research paper. Namjoon had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and spent far more time looking at you than looking up sources to site for your paper. You were pretty sure your cheeks never went back to normal after that, permanently painted a slight shade of pink at the handsome man who couldn’t stop watching you.

Despite the heat in your cheeks and the way Namjoon couldn’t keep his eyes off you, you both quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. You’d never felt so close with someone so fast in your life. Strangers one day, best friends the next. You felt like you’d known each other your entire lives within a matter of days. You’d both spent the entirety of your college career attached at the hip, and you still were to this day.

Now, you shared a two bedroom apartment with your best friend and spent every moment you could together. You never got tired of each other’s company. Lately though, you’d noticed Namjoon was acting a little weird. Namjoon wasn’t shy when it came to affection, and would often pull you into a hug or let you cuddle up to him while you watched a film together.

But the past few weeks he had been very hot and cold. He’d pull you in for a cuddle then stiffen and shuffle away, avoiding your gaze. He’d lean into your touch when you played with his hair then squirm away and mumble apologies before disappearing into his room for the rest of the night. It felt like Namjoon was pulling away from you and it was breaking your heart. You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were determined to revive your friendship to its’ former glory.

“Joonie!” you called, shouting down the hall as you made your way towards his room.

You knocked lightly on the door and he called for you to come in. His head lifted to look at you as you hopped your way over to him excitedly.

“What are you doing?” you grinned, leaning over his shoulder and pressing your body against his back as you surveyed the contents of his desk.

Namjoon coughed uncomfortably and leaned away from you. You frowned and stood up straight.

“It’s a proposal for work on Thursday. We’re going to be expanding the marketing department and launching a new social media campaign and they want me to come up with the pitch to give the director for our new campaign.” he explained.

“Why are you working at home?” you asked, your brow furrowing in worry.

“Because I need to have this done in two days.” he sighed.

“Oh Joon, please don’t overwork yourself. Look at the bags under your eyes! Aren’t you exhausted?” you cooed, letting your thumb run under his eye in an attempt to soothe the bags.

Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed happily while leaning into your touch, relishing the feeling of your skin on his for a moment. His breathing seemed to even at the comfort he felt when you were close to him. You smiled fondly at the soft man under your touch before Namjoon snapped back to reality and jerked away from you.

“I should get back to it…” he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

“Joonie…” you sighed, wanting to reach out to him.

“Hm?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop where he typed away.

“Nothing. Good luck with your project.” you sighed.

A few hours later, Joon emerged and immediately fell onto the couch next to you, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and snuggling up against your frame.

“My head hurts.” he whined.

“You’ve been staring at that computer all day. Of course it does.” you accused, but began running your fingers through his hair gently the way you knew Namjoon loved.

He sighed and leaned into your touch, letting you bring comfort to his aching brain. Namjoon melted into your touch, and you hummed quietly, hoping to soothe the pain at least a little. You hated how hard Namjoon worked, you hated seeing him suffer in any way and just wanted to hold him and make him relax.

Soon, Namjoon’s weight against you grew heavy and you knew he’d fallen asleep. You maneuvered his head off of your shoulder and into your lap so you could watch him. His unconscious body seemed to seek yours out. He snuggled closer to your stomach, resting his cheek against it and smiling. You giggled quietly and let your fingers gently trail over his features.

You traced the bridge of his nose, up over his forehead, and he hummed happily in his sleep. You giggled and let your tender touches float down his cheeks and over his lips. You traced the outline of his full lips more than once, wondering idly what they might feel like against your own. They were soft and thick. You wanted to taste them so badly.

You sighed and moved your fingers back up to his cheeks, starting your journey over again. Between the soft sounds of his even breathing to the warmth of his body on yours, you didn’t really stand a chance and ended up falling asleep too, your hand on his cheek and your head lolled back against the couch.

You woke hours later in your own bed tucked into your duvet. You frowned at the cold air surrounding you and the lack of Namjoon in your arms. You huffed in annoyance and flung the blankets off your body, stalking towards Namjoon’s room to ask him just what his problem was. You were about to fling his door open and give him a piece of your mind when you heard a quiet moan from inside.

Was his headache that bad? Poor Joon. Maybe he’d just needed to lie in a dark place. You cracked the door to glance in and check on him, and froze as your eyes soaked in the sight before you. Namjoon lay naked on his bed, sweat slicked hair stuck to his forehead as his massive hand worked up and down his equally massive dick. Your own hand came to cover your mouth in shock but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Joon grunted softly, running his thumb over the tip and jerking his hips at the action. Moisture pooled in your panties while you watched his abdomen constrict with the pressure building as he tugged and moaned. Joon’s moans were sinful, beautiful, melodic. You wanted to draw the lovely sounds from the man, but you just watched him pleasure himself. His breathing picked up pace and his moans turned to whines as he got closer to release. Joon met his high and spurts of white shot from his length as he bit his lip to hold in the loud groan. You quietly shut the door so you wouldn’t get caught peeping on your best friend, but couldn’t shake the image of his body shuddering under his ministrations. The scene played on repeat in your brain the whole night, invading your dreams as well.

***

“You had a sex dream about Namjoon?” Jimin coughed, spitting out a little of the coffee he’d been drinking.

“Yes. Ugh. And… it’s not the first time.” you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ooh, who would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” Jimin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ughhh. Jimin help me. The dreams didn’t used to be this vivid but when I saw him jerking off the other day-”

“YOU WHAT?” he choked.

“Oh yeah. Ummm… I kinda accidentally watched him masturbate?” you said it like a question.

“Accidentally?” Jimin raised an accusing brow.

“I was checking on him since he had a headache and… I saw him jerking it.” you hid your face in your hands.

“Oh my god.” Jimin laughed. “Wait how big is he?”

“Jimin!” You chastised, but grinned knowingly.

“I knew it. Damn. I feel insecure now. Joon really has it all.” He laughed.

“I’m sure you’re fine.” You giggled. “Now help me!”

“He doesn’t know that you saw, right?” Jimin confirmed.

“No!” You blurted out, a little too loudly for the small cafe.

The barista glared at you. You lowered your tone, sending her an apologetic smile.

“No. I could never look him in the eye again. I’d have to move.” You gushed anxiously.

“I bet he was jacking off to you.” Jimin smirked.

“Oh shut up Jimin. I’m the one with the crush not him.” You sighed.

“Y/N. You’re both clearly into each other and neither of you has enough balls to do anything about it.” Jimin tutted.

“There’s no way.” You shook your head in denial.

“Wanna bet on it?” He smirked. “$50 says he likes you too. He just needs… a push.”

“A push?” You asked.

“Let’s make him jealous.” Jimin grinned.

“How?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Pretend you’re into me. We’ll flirt in front of him, cuddle a bit, see if he snaps.” Jimin’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“That will never work because he doesn’t like me.” You argued.

“Well if you’re right you’ll be $50 richer. What do you have to lose?” He shrugged.

“Well… I guess you’re right.” You nodded. “Fine but only to get you to shut up about Joon liking me. And when I win you have to help me get over this weird lusting phase.”

“Phase.” he scoffed “Like you haven’t been dying to get that man inside you for years.”

Your face turned bright red and you flipped him off, but didn’t object with his words. You couldn’t. It’s not that you hadn’t been attracted to Joon before, it was just intensified after the events you witnessed the night before. It seemed to be all you could think about when you looked at him.

So for the next few weeks, you’d slowly introduced PDA with Jimin while watching to see if you got a reaction out of Namjoon. It started off light, hand holding here, a kiss on the cheek there. Namjoon seemed uncomfortable, but not jealous. You were ready to collect your $50 and call it quits but Jimin kept insisting that if you took it a little further, Namjoon would crack and be unable to hold back his jealousy.

And that was how you found yourself on your couch straddling Jimin’s lap.

“Jimin this is stupid.” You whisper-hissed, trying your best not to make contact with his crotch despite your position.

“Trust me, if Joon walks in on this, he’ll lose his shit.” Jimin assured you.

You heard the door unlock and sent Jimin a panicked look. He grabbed your hips and ground your body down on his and quickly moved his lips against your neck to leave a mark on the skin. If you weren’t so gone for Namjoon you might have actually enjoyed it. You did your best to put on a show, leaning your head back and letting out quiet moans.

A loud crash came from the direction of the front door of your shared apartment and you gasped, looking up to see Namjoon frozen in place with his jaw nearly on the floor. The grocery bags he’d been carrying had fallen from his now limp hands. Jimin’s lips stilled against your skin and you both looked towards Namjoon feigning shock.

You scrambled off of Jimin’s lap and stood up, smoothing your clothes. Jimin stayed on the couch, just observing.

“Joon! I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” You squeaked.

“I-uh… yeah, I just… sorry.” He mumbled, ducking his head down and picking up the spilled groceries.

You dashed over to help, but Namjoon flinched away from you so you backed up and let him finish the task. You gnawed on your lower lip, waiting for him to say something else. You glanced at Jimin who sent you an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

“If you guys don’t want to be interrupted maybe you should do that in your room, and not the shared living area.” Namjoon finally spoke, trying and failing to hide the venom in his tone.

Jimin stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head at the crook of your neck and peppering soft kisses at the exposed skin, licking over the previous lovebites he’d placed there, making sure Namjoon saw them. Namjoon stiffened.

“He’s right, let’s take this somewhere a little more… private. Poor Joonie shouldn’t have to witness the things I’m about to do to my dirty slut.” he purred seductively, hot breath fanning over your ear.

You shivered and glanced at Namjoon who was staring daggers at Jimin. A gasp escaped your lips as Jimin rolled his hips into your ass and you felt a very real erection. You turned to look at him and he grinned with no remorse, tugging your wrist to lead you to your bedroom. He closed the door and slammed your body up against it, hands pressing into your shoulders, but kept a distance from you now that Namjoon wasn’t watching.

“Jimin, what the fu-” you began.

“Moan. Loud. Make it believable.” he whispered. “If he thinks I’m fucking your brains out in here he’s going to lose his shit.”

“Jimin why do you have a boner?” you hissed.

“Y/N.” he scoffed. “I am absolutely team Namjoon okay? But I am a man, and a beautiful woman was just grinding on my dick. Sue me.”

“I-”

“It doesn’t mean I’m into you or anything, but that was hot. I’m not going to try anything but I can’t stop my anatomy from functioning properly. You can’t tell me you’re not a little turned on.” he grumbled, removing his hands from your shoulders and stepping back so you could peel yourself off the door.

“Okay. You’re right. Now what?” you asked.

“Be a good girl and moan for me.” he winked, sitting on your bed and pulling out his phone.

“Fuck, Jimin!” you did your best impression of a moan despite how uncomfortable you felt, sitting beside him and holding a pillow in your lap.

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up.

“Damn. Okay.” he whispered, then got louder as he groaned. “Fuck baby right there. Mmm… your pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock.”

You stifled a giggle and shoved his arm and he shot you the cockiest grin you’d ever seen on him, which was saying something. Jimin continued to moan loudly, until he decided it was time for things to kick up a notch.

“Okay, show time baby.” he winked, and stood up.

He began shoving your headboard against the wall rhythmically. It was loud enough it shook you, so you knew Namjoon could hear.

“Fuck, YN. You’re so tight.” Jimin groaned, sending you a pointed look.

“Ugh! Right there!” you whined loudly.

“Who owns this pussy?” Jimin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Jimin!” you cried out, then tried not to laugh when Jimin dramatically fanned himself.

“Harder! Oh god don’t stop!” you called out, and Jimin gave you a thumbs up while he continued shoving your headboard against the wall.

“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock?” Jimin grinned.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” you screamed, honestly a little impressed with how realistic you sounded.

Jimin joined in your chorus with loud moans of his own, and stopped slamming your headboard against the wall. You suddenly got very embarrassed he’d heard such intimate sounds out of you, even if they were fake. Your cheeks burned cherry red and you avoided Jimin’s gaze.

“Damn. That was hot.” he whisper-laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours as he sat beside you.

“Shut up.” you giggled. “Kinda was though.”

“If things don’t work out with Joonie, call me.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Please, you couldn’t handle all this.” you joked, gesturing to yourself.

“You’re right, you’re an emotional basket case and I am not as patient as Namjoon.” he laughed, flinching when you punched his arm.

“Asshole.” you giggled.

“Come here.” he suddenly said, reaching for your hair and messing it up.

“What the fuck!” you hissed.

“Do you want to look fucked or do you want to look like we faked it?” he narrowed his eyes.

“True.” you agreed, reaching over and doing the same to his soft tendrils.

“Ooh, scratch my neck. Wait no. Should I walk out there shirtless and have you scratch my back?” he smirked evilly.

“Take your shirt off.” you instructed.

“Damn round two already? You’re insatiable!” Jimin chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and waited for him to rid himself of his t-shirt, then thought about the most realistic angle. You put your hands up to assess, turning and standing and checking your options. You finally decided the only way to get realistic marks was to act it out.

“I think you’re gonna have to get on top of me.” you concluded.

“I thought you’d never ask.” he smirked, exaggeratedly rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Shut up, I just want it to look real.” you hissed, laying back while Jimin hovered over you.

“Suuure.” he grinned, looking down into your eyes from his position above you. He smiled.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and dug your nails experimentally into his back. Jimin shivered involuntarily. You bit your lip to conceal a giggle and raked your nails down his back, making sure to dig into the skin a little so the marks would stay. A quiet whimper left Jimin’s throat.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” you accused.

“You’re probably right.” he laughed. “I’m going straight home to jack off after this.”

“You’re disgusting.” you laughed.

Jimin shrugged unapologetically. “You should probably do it a few more times to make it look like I fucked you real good.”

“You just like it.” you laughed.

“That too.” he agreed.

He had a point though, so you repeated the action a few more times, desperately trying to ignore the noises that erupted from Jimin as you did. If you weren’t so in love with Namjoon you’d probably jump Jimin’s bones at this point. You did your best not to focus on his toned abs when he finally rose from you, allowing you to inspect your marks.

“Looks good.” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

An idea struck you so you shimmied your pants off and slipped on some pajama shorts and changed into Jimin’s shirt. He nodded in approval.

“Show time.” he sing songed, pulling your bedroom door open and sauntering down the hallway.

You followed him, noting Joon on the couch watching some new Netflix documentary. You didn’t say anything as you breezed past him, following Jimin into the kitchen to brew some tea.

“I need a snack to replenish my energy. You really wore me out, baby girl.” Jimin teased, pinching your behind and causing you to yelp.

“Do you want me to make something?” you asked.

“Mmm… cooking for me? Maybe we could use some leftover whipped cream for round two.” he suggested playfully.

“Stop.” you giggled, covering your face.

“I really should get going though, it’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow. I wish I could just stay here, in your bed. I don’t think we’d get any sleep though.” he chuckled.

“Let me change out of your shirt real quick.” you offered but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against his body.

“Mmm… keep it. Looks better on you anyway. Plus, I wanna show off my battle scars.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Namjoon got up off the couch, turned off the tv, and stalked to his room, slamming the door shut without a word. You looked to Jimin in surprise. He smirked victoriously.

“Check. Mate.” he grinned.

“He’s probably just annoyed because we’re being obnoxious.” you sighed.

“Trust me, Y/N. He’s jealous and filled with rage. If looks could kill, you’d be planning my funeral right now.” Jimin assured you.

“If you say so… do you really not want this back?” you asked.

“Nah. I got a spare in the car.” he smiled, “good luck, okay? Don’t chicken out if the opportunity presents itself. You like him. He likes you. You guys could be happy. Let yourself be happy, yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself be comforted by your friend’s words and his warm embrace. He hugged you back even tighter, then pulled away, holding you at arms length so he could look into your eyes.

“I mean it. Let yourself have this. Don’t be scared.” he coached gently.

“Thank you, Jiminie. I love you.” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too. Now go get your man.” he grinned, walking out the door and leaving you alone in the living room.

You took a deep breath and walked down the hall past Namjoon’s room, slowing as you heard crashing from inside. You knocked lightly on the door.

“Joon? You okay? Did something break?” you questioned, hand on the knob.

The door flung open and you were greeted with Namjoon’s chest as he towered over you. The look he gave you made you feel even smaller though.

“I dropped something. Not like you can complain about my noise level, Y/N.” he huffed.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you said quietly.

“I’m fine. I actually think it might be time for me to find somewhere else to live.” he stated.

You froze, panic filling your chest.

“What?! Why?” you squeaked, tears welling in your eyes despite your urge for them to stay away.

“If you’re going to be seeing Jimin, it’s clear that you guys need your own space. I don’t want to listen to you have sex with him all the time, and I’m sure you’d appreciate the privacy.” Namjoon sighed, avoiding your eyes.

“But I… we… it’s not-” you tried, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating with your racing mind.

“It’s fine. It’s about time you got a boyfriend. It’s probably weird that we’re both single and living together.” Joon shrugged.

“No it’s not!” you argued, a pout on your lips.

“Don’t you want to fuck your boyfriend in peace without having to worry about your roommate hearing?” Joon challenged.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you blurted out.

“What?” Joon tilted his head in confusion.

“He’s not… he’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t have sex. We only pretended to. Jimin had me convinced that if I pretended to be dating him that you’d get jealous and that you’d make a move because I’m too scared to. I told him you didn’t like me and that it wasn’t going to work but he wouldn’t shut up about it, he kept saying-” you began but Namjoon cut you off.

“You made out with Jimin on our couch and pretended to have sex with him to try and make me jealous?” he clarified.

“I know it’s stupid I told him-” you rambled on, wringing your hands together anxiously.

“You didn’t fuck him.” Joon clarified one more time.

“No.” you confirmed.

“Oh thank god.” Joon sighed in relief, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened in shock but you soon melted into his embrace, your entire body alive and buzzing with adrenaline. Joon guided you towards the wall until your back hit it with a gentle thud and he pushed his body closer to yours until you were flush against each other. His hands came to cup your face, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. He pulled away, but remained just centimeters from your lips.

“That was extremely immature and childish.” he chided, “But it worked. I wanted to kill him.”

“Mmm…” you hummed happily.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of another man kissing you,” he sighed, letting his lips gently brush against your own. “Another man marking you,” he whispered, his kisses moving to your neck and sucking his own marks to claim you. “Another man touching you…” he trailed off, hand running down your side until his fingers brushed against your nipple, barely concealed by the thin fabric of Jimin’s shirt. Joon’s soft touch froze for a moment.

Without warning, he ripped the shirt you were wearing over your head and tossed it aside, revealing your shorts and barely-there bra. He smirked in satisfaction. “I don’t like you wearing another man’s clothes either.” he purred, bringing his lips back to the skin of your neck and allowing them to travel down to your collarbones.

Upon hearing your real whimpers, you couldn’t believe how fake you’d sounded earlier. The noises Namjoon managed to elicit from you were real, raw, and desperate. Namjoon grinned against the flesh of your collar bones, moving his kisses even lower to the swell of your breasts. Namjoon had fantasised about these breasts more times than he’d care to admit, and he was about to bust in his pants now that his fantasies were coming true. He was determined to give your body the attention and admiration it deserved.

He reached behind you and unsnapped the flimsy bralette you were wearing, letting it tumble to the floor unceremoniously. You shivered as the cool air hit your nipples, causing them to perk and harden. Or maybe that was the effect Namjoon had on you. You didn’t find time to ponder the reason because soon, he had those delectable, pillowy lips wrapped around one of the hardened buds, nimble fingers rolling the other.

A haggard moan left your lips and your head lolled back, hitting the wall while Namjoon rolled his tongue over your sensitive flesh. He let his teeth graze it gently, and your body jolted off the wall closer to his. He took the opportunity to guide you towards his bed, shoving you down onto the mattress. Your body bounced with the impact and he hovered over you, ripping his shirt off and tossing it aside. Your eyes locked on the smooth planes of his stomach. Your mouth watered as your gaze trailed lower to the trail of hair that led to the part of him you’d been dreaming about since you caught him with his hand wrapped around it.

You reached up and pulled him back down to you and Namjoon took the opportunity to slip his hand between your bodies, slipping it under the fabric of your shorts and panties.

“Mmm… so wet. Is this because of me, baby?” he grinned.

You thought about teasing him and saying it was Jimin but you’d waited too long for this moment to fuck it up now.

“All for you, Joonie.” you whined, bucking your hips up to get some friction.

“Mmm.. that’s not my name baby doll.” he smirked.

“Fuck… daddy.” you whimpered.

“That’s right baby girl.” he praised, “You want daddy to make you feel good?”

“Please.” you begged.

Namjoon smirked and began rubbing lazy circles on your clit, spreading your juices along the swollen nub. You groaned, leaning your head back. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. You needed to be filled.

“Fuck me, daddy.” you whined.

“So needy.” he tutted, dragging your shorts and panties off and tossing them to the floor.

He shimmied out of his shorts and boxers and your eyes locked on his cock. Thick, long, and leaking precum. Your tongue involuntarily darted along your lower lip, wetting the surface as you stared at Namjoon’s length with desire. You leaned up and tentatively licked at the tip, gathering the pre-cum on your tongue before swallowing and humming happily. Joon closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a moment before pushing your shoulders back.

“We can try all that later. I want to cum inside of you, and I won’t last if you wrap those pretty lips around me.” he sighed, “but let’s get you ready, hm?”

You nodded and laid back against the pillows while Namjoon slipped two fingers in your drenched hole. You moaned loudly, finally feeling something fill your aching pussy. Joon curled his fingers and pumped them in and out of you, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. His lips crashed against yours again, swallowing up your moans and whines while he finger fucked you. The ridges of his fingers sliding against your velvety walls had you in a state of bliss. It wasn’t long before the familiar fire built deep in your belly and you were rocketing over the edge. Joon worked you through your high, never relenting in the slightest until you whimpered and pushed his hand away.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes.” you let out breathlessly.

Joon smiled and rolled the condom onto his shaft before slowly sliding inside of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the way Namjoon fit perfectly in your walls. You could feel everything, like he was made to be inside of you. The stretch burned for a moment, but Namjoon remained still until you were comfortable. Once you gave him the signal that it was okay to move, Namjoon held nothing back.

His hips snapped into yours at a merciless pace, making your body bounce with the impact and incoherent gibberish leave your lips. Your arms found purchase around his neck while he rode you like there was no tomorrow. Namjoon had a lot of pent up sexual frustration when it came to you and he had every intention of unleashing it on you. He brought your nipple in his mouth once more.

You didn’t think you could last long with the way Namjoon was hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust, every time his cock landed against your walls it was just right and you were a mess beneath him in minutes, writing against his movements, bucking your hips up to meet his.

A chorus of his name slipped from you like a prayer, or a chant. You didn’t know. All you knew was that Namjoon felt so good and the only thing you could focus on was him and the impending orgasm he was unleashing inside of you with his relentless thrusts. Your nails dug into his back and your walls clenched around him as your orgasm built until you were just over the edge.

Namjoon stilled inside of you, and the orgasm ebbed away. A sob escaped your throat and you looked at Namjoon in confusion. He slipped out of your heat and you felt empty at the loss. He simply smirked and moved his head to begin kissing at your inner thighs.

“Joon, what-” you tried to ask, panting.

“Mmm… only good girls get to cum.” he hummed against your thigh. “Teasing daddy by grinding on your little friend… you weren’t being a very good girl, were you, baby doll?”

“But I…” you whined.

“I know why you did it.” he nodded in agreement, “and I agree. I needed a push. But I still didn’t like seeing your sweet little cunt grinding down on him. That pussy is mine.” he growled, possessiveness filling his eyes.

“Yes, I’m all yours daddy.” you sighed.

“That’s right.” he smirked.

He moved back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses as he went until his lips met yours again. His fingers brushed teasingly along your inner thigh and dipped in your heat, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow place. His knuckles grazing your walls, his hot breath in your ear, whispering dirty things like a secret for just you to know, it was all too much.

Namjoon brought you to the edge over and over again before ripping your orgasm away from you each time. Tears welled in your eyes at the frustration. You were a complete mess beneath him and he only smirked in satisfaction, lazily rubbing patterns on your sensitive clit.

“Mmm.. does my baby want to cum?” he cooed.

“Fuck. Yes. Please. Joon please please please.” you nearly cried.

“Hmmm.. do you think you’ve earned it? Has daddy punished you enough? You sure did like showing off and making me angry.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m yours, only yours. PLEASE.” you whined.

Namjoon hummed and seemed to think deeply about your request. He nodded in approval and soon he was pounding into you again like he’d never stopped. It didn’t take you long to reach your end after that, so riled up and sensitive from the edging. You were so close, so close again.

“Cum for daddy.” Namjoon breathed in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You screamed his name as your vision went white hot and your back arched off the bed. Blissful euphoria enveloped your whole body while Joon rode out your high with you, soon meeting his own end. You were panting breathlessly to the point your lungs were burning as you both came back down. Joon discarded the condom and wrapped his arms around you, gently smoothing your hair away from your face and whispering encouraging things to you.

“You did so well for me baby.” he praised, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, snuggling closer into his frame. You were too exhausted to formulate a reply. Your brain was jello after the fucking of a lifetime you’d just recieved. Joon held you quietly, hands roaming tenderly to soothe your aching muscles. You leaned into his touch and when your heart finally returned to its’ normal rhythm, you looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I’m kind of thankful for Jimin.” Joon spoke.

“Hmm?” you questioned.

“I think if it weren’t for you assholes trying to make me jealous, I would’ve never pulled my head out of my ass.” he sighed. “I was just so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way and I didn’t want to ruin everything we had, you know? You’re so important to me, Y/N. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me.” you confirmed, fire in your eyes and passion in your voice. “But I get it. I was scared too.”

“Every time I see you, I get these words stuck in my head. All it is is 8 letters and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N, but I was terrified of being rejected.” he admitted, eyes downcast.

“Joonie?” you whispered warily, moving your head back so you could look into his eyes.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose

You bit your lip to try and hide the smile threatening to cover your face while looking into Namjoon’s eyes.

“But if Jimin ever puts his hands on you again I will kill him.” Namjoon grumbled.

You giggled and hid your face in his chest.

“I love you.” you repeat, unable to find a better response, and to be honest, it just felt good to say it out loud after all this time.

Joon’s grumpy expression morphed into one of fondness and affection, he caressed your cheek in his large hand, bringing his lips gently to yours in a chaste kiss.

“I love you too.” he sighed happily. . “So very much.”

#kim namjoon #namjoon #bts #smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #rm #rm x reader #rm smut #bts smut

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amrio · 4 years

Text

The Jacket War

Not that he was one to blame his daughter on anything, but Drake absolutely blamed her for starting the war for Launchpad's jacket. Sure she was just pushing his buttons at the start, but by the time that they were quite literally chasing each other for a coat, it had turned into a downright competition. One that neither of them had any intention of losing.

Launchpad was never one to forget things, as he rarely had anything with him to misplace, but his jacket? The pilot never left anywhere without it. You never know when you might take a nosedive into the side of an icy mountain after all. The only time Drake ever saw him without his beloved bomber jacket was when he stayed with him and Gosalyn after a night of patrolling and he took it off to sleep. Even then, it was never far away—either thrown over the back of the couch he was sleeping on, or on one of the bedposts if he managed to make it to the bed they had set up for him without falling to the ground snoring in that ever so loud, but quite endearing, way he does when he's truly exhausted.

So when Drake got up one morning and found the leather coat on the back of the couch, with no sign of Launchpad anywhere, he was certainly surprised. The pilot must've gotten up early that morning and left in a rush if he forgot it. Not to mention that he managed to leave without either Gosalyn or himself noticing. The two of them were such light sleepers that they were normally able to send Launchpad off with a tired goodbye before stumbling back to bed. Not saying goodbye was almost as depressing as having to say goodbye at all was.

McMoneyBags probably called him, Drake figured to himself as he stared down at the article of clothing. It looked so out of place without it's owner. Upon further inspection, he found a new tear and a few scorch marks on the back. They weren't from their patrol last night, he knew that much for certain. They had been dealing with another liquid type villain that had escaped from a lab and sought to wreck havoc on the scientists that created it. McDuck better not let this happen often, he groused picking up the jacket and feeling the worn leather between his fingers. He's my partner. If anything ever happened to him...!

It took the man all of two seconds to realize what he had just admitted, despite being in his mind. Drake quickly whipped his head around and scanned the area, lest he find that his thoughts had been projected for the rest of the world to hear. Or worse still, Gosalyn. She had been poking fun at him ever since she found them curled up together on the couch after a particularly rough night.

They had been tired, beaten, battered, and emotionally exhausted after Darkwing had accidentally gotten captured. None of them had the strength to even look at the stairs leading up to their bedrooms and instead flopped over onto the couch dead on their feet. Launchpad had fallen asleep first, three hour drives between St. Canard and Duckburg taking up a more obvious toll with the additional stress of the night. Much to no one's surprise, Launchpad was a sleep hugger. And okay, maybe Drake enjoyed the sleepy affection too. It was something he was very unaccustomed, but not entirely opposed to. Launchpad was warm, he was tired, and with Gosalyn safe and nearby he may or may not have allowed himself to cuddle into the much bigger duck's chest and fall asleep that way.

The thought of that comfortable evening brought more warmth to his cheeks and a nervous twitch to his fingers as he looked around. Thankfully the pale morning light illuminating the tower was his traitorous thinking's only audience.

Launchpad could handle himself. He had proven it on any number of occasions, matching Darkwing's battle prowess with ease. Now...what that had to do with the sudden worried possessiveness that his brain had just given words to and his fondness of that sleepy evening...well...Drake wasn't going to sit there and ponder that while it was still so early. That was a problem for several cups of coffee and some breakfast. Yet he found himself holding on to the jacket for a few moments more, looking it over and marveling at just how big it was (and how big it would be on him), but it ended up being for a few moments too many.

"Hey nerd! Whatcha doin'?"

Drake yelped and quickly dropped the coat back over the couch as a warm red re-exploded on his face. "G-Gosalyn! Uh! I'm not doing anything! W-what are you doing?" He couldn't figure out what to do with his hands as his ten year old eyed him suspiciously and ended up shoving them into the pockets of his purple bathrobe before they gave away his nervousness.

Gosalyn stared him down, her eyes taking on that glint that he often saw when she was trying to work out how to save her grandpa. Her analyzing look. Much to his horror, he watched her gaze drift to the couch and land on Launchpad's coat. Oh, he really didn't like the look on her face now. She was grinning in the same way that said she was going to try a new trick shot with her crossbow that would absolutely send his coffee mug spilling to the ground.

"So, have you tried it on yet?" she smirked, knowing exactly why her father had gotten flustered.

"No! And I have no idea why you would suggest I do such a thing," he said trying to grapple for at least a little bit of his dignity. "Why are you up anyways?" It was a Saturday and neither of them were much for mornings.

"I heard you up." She crossed her arms over her green pjs with a huff. "Why are you awake?"

"Oh you know...uh. Just trying to get a jump start on those files from yesterday." He gave a nervous laugh, knowing full well that WANDA had already sorted and sifted through them the moment they were uploaded.

Gosalyn wasn't impressed. "If you say so."

After a staring contest that Drake quickly lost to the knowing eyes of his daughter, he ended up trudging to the kitchen for some coffee. In the back of his mind he was aware of how empty the spacs was without a certain pilot serving up coffee with a cheery grin. Drake would never understand how Launchpad was such a morning person. He got less sleep than the average college student and yet he still managed to shine brighter than the sun at six in the morning when he woke up either to a demanding phone call from Scrooge or to the sound of Drake struggling with another nightmare.

As he was pondering this he all but choked on his coffee when Gosalyn wandered—and almost tripped—into the kitchen.

"What? You weren't using it," she said as she struggled to climb into her seat at the table.

She was wearing Launchpad's jacket.

If Drake had thought the coat would be big on him, it was downright gigantic on Gosalyn. It all but swallowed the girl whole as she looked up and challenged him to do something about it. She wasn't a dress kind of girl, but that's the only thing he could even remotely compare it to. It buried her at the table and hung over the edge of the seat, hiding her arms and feet entirely. Well, maybe a king sized blanket would be a better comparison.

"Isn't that a little uh, big for you Gos?" he finally asked as he tried to decide if the sight was more adorable or comical.

"Nope," she said, somehow with a straight face, as she got situated. All of her moving and struggling with the coat had thrown her bed tousled hair into her face and she ended up pulling her arms out of the sleeves so she could shove it away and reach for the mug of tea he had made for her. "It's comfortable. And really warm." She sipped at her drink before grinning around the edge of the mug. "You should try it on. LP certainly wouldn't mind."

"I—! You—!" he sputtered trying his hardest to keep the blush out of his feathers. "That's none of your concern, Waddlemeyer."

Though she gave a genuine smile at the name, glad to hold onto her grandpa's name for a little while longer, she couldn't help but taunt him in her reply. "No? Or are you just too afraid to take it from me and find out?"

Should he stoop to the level of his competitive ten-year old? Probably not. That wouldn't sound very good on paper now would it? "I'm not fighting a child for a coat."

"Chicken."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Darkwing Duck is no chicken."

"Prove it then!"

Well if that's how it was going to go, screw the paper and how it would sound. Drake set his coffee down and narrowed his eyes at the girl only to find her mirroring his actions.

Some part of him knew how ridiculous they were being, but that was heavily outweighed by the fact that A) he wasn't going to back down from any challenge no matter who it was from and B) Gosalyn was smiling more this morning than all the other mornings combined. He had seen her sleep-fits often enough that they were probably tied when it came to who had nightmares the most. Mornings were fragile things unless Launchpad was there to comfort them or snap them out of it. Now it seemed that his jacket was doing a good enough job at keeping them light-hearted in his place.

So yeah. He was totally going to steal that coat from Gosalyn.

If the fact that she pulled a hair-tie off of her wrist and pulled her wavy red hair back in a messy ponytail said anything, it was that she was more than happy to make the challenge as difficult as possible.

When Launchpad came back to St. Canard later that day after returning the Duck family to the mansion from an adventure involving magical dirt...? he hadn't caught the name of it; all he knew was that it was blue and turned Dewey into a mini dragon (it took them an eternity to convince him to change back). Regardless, he certainly wasn't expecting to find Drake and Gosalyn chasing each other around the base in some sort of game before lunch.

"Hey guys! Guess who's back!" he hollered stepping through the main door.

"Hi LP!" Gosalyn greeted as she sprinted in front of him. She had something in her grasp, but she was moving too fast for Launchpad to figure out what it was.

Hardly a second later, Drake ran past him as well and gave a distracted hello before he jumped up and off the wall at his daughter. The two of them ended up in a roll as they fought for whatever item the girl had until Drake was the victor. Not for long though, as his rather loud victory "HAH!" was cut short when Gosalyn snagged the item out of his outstretched grasp and made a mad dash in the opposite direction.

Launchpad couldn't help but laugh at the frustrated growl from Drake. He had no idea what they were doing, but he was happy to see them getting along. Drake had formally adopted Gosalyn a couple of months ago, but they were still adjusting to the whole family dynamic thing. Gosalyn was stubbornly independent and Drake got caught up in his nightly alter-ego all too easily. There were good days and bad days, but today just happened to be an exceptionally good day.

Eventually Drake got up from his dramatic pouting on the ground and gave chase to his daughter once again.

Seeing the determined look on Drake's face and the cocky grin on Gosalyn's made the pilot realize, not for the first time, just how much he adored them. They were chaotic and a little bit of a mess—he noted Drake's bathrobe abandoned on the couch—but they were a family. He knew Gosalyn couldn't say it yet and that Drake would hesitate to admit it, but it was true nonetheless. They were his adventure family. So he let out a fond sigh and rested his arms against the railing to watch their antics for a time.

As the green blur of Gosalyn sped down the stairs, Launchpad realized that she was struggling with the something in her arms until it unfolded into something he recognized. She had his coat! So that's where he had left it! He knew it had to be here with them, or at the fast-food place he frequented between cities. It was a good thing it was here and not the fast-food joint, because he forgot to stop there in his excitement to get back to them.

Gosalyn fought with the gargantuan jacket until she managed to get her arms into the sleeves and continued running with the rest of the coat trailing after her. She tried to scrunch up the sleeves so she could use her hands, but there was simply too much jacket so she gave up and let the sleeves flap as she ran. It was adorable to say the least. What was even better was how much she resembled her father. At some point, Launchpad couldn't remember when exactly, Drake had stolen one or two of his shirts for pjs. So now both Drake and Gosalyn were running and jumping around in Launchpad's clothes and both of them were absolutely dwarfed by the bigger sizing

Launchpad couldn't have squashed his grin if he tried. But he didn't try. He smiled openly at the sight presented and laughed when the much-too-long sleeve of his coat got caught on a desk and brought Gosalyn to a screeching halt. Drake jumped at the opportunity and immediately scooped up his daughter so she couldn't escape again, holding her in front of him to avoid her kicking feet.

"Ha-HA! Can't get away this time can you!"

"That doesn't count! I got stuck!" she cried trying to fight out of his hold.

Before Drake could retaliate with some sassy remark or another, Launchpad spoke up with a laugh as he made his way down the stairs and to them in the living room. "So...you two haven't seen my coat anywhere have you?"

Their responses were immediate.

"Nope haven't seen it."

"What coat?"

When Launchpad got closer it finally sunk in that they were still in pjs. "Wait...you two aren't dressed yet...don't tell me—" his voice rose in concern and too much volume "—that you haven't had anything for breakfast?!" Because he could see the kitchen, and there were no plates or bowls or even orange peels left out to indicate otherwise.

"Um. About that," Drake started nervously. He was no stranger to "Uncle Launchpad's" mothering and neither was Gosalyn.

"We got...distracted?" Gosalyn supplied after a beat.

Launchpad was having none of that. Drake and Gosalyn were quickled ushered into the kitchen and to the table, their game of keep-away momentarily forgotten, while Launchpad set about righting the wrongness of no breakfast. It wasn't long before Gosalyn had a stack of waffles drowned in syrup in front of her and Drake had a bowl of cereal and half an orange to dig into. As Launchpad brought over refills to their coffee and tea, he marveled at how small his family was.

His coat was filling more chair than Gosalyn was and she had to reach out from behind the zipper to reach her sugary meal even sitting on her knees. He had no doubt that she could shut the zipper and hide in the thing and no one would know the difference. Meanwhile on the other side of the table, one of his green t-shirts was hanging loosely off of Drake's wirey frame, looking more like a night-gown than a shirt. Warmth blossomed in the pilot's chest as he really took that information in. His little adventure family really was little. They could handle themselves, but he would always be there to have their backs and protect them. How could he not? They didn't even fill his shirt!

"You good LP?" Drake asked, snapping him out of his thought. "You stopped talking."

Was he talking? Oh right! He had been telling them about the adventures of Dewey as a fire-breathing dragon while he fixed their food. "Buh...Uh ye-yeah I'm good. Sorry about that."

"Where did you go?" Gosalyn asked around her mug.

"Where did I go? Did I leave the kitchen too?!" He hadn't thought he had left the room, but he wasn't paying attention. What if he did and he didn't know it?!

"What? No!" She snorted at his stricken expression. Her mug was set down so she wouldn't spill it as she clarified. "I meant what were you thinking about."

"Oh! Ok yeah that makes more sense." He wasn't one to lie, so he didn't and told them. "I was thinking about how small you two are."

Drake gave an indignant "hey!" in response while Gosalyn just giggled at how offended he got.

"I think it's the other way around LP," she said lightly. "You're big and so are your clothes. Look at this!" She gestured to the jacket surrounding her. "It's like, way bigger than me!"

"I guess so... hey! Speaking of my coat, can I have it back?"

"Nope!"

#familyfluff #dwd #drakepad #gosalyn #launchpad's clothes are too big for his family #launchpad #fluff

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