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cariantha · 4 months

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Drink Had Me

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff Word count: 3.3K Prompt: Ethan has too much to drink and winds up on Sawyer’s doorstep in the middle of the night. Event: I’m participating in the Song Rewrite Challenge hosted by @choicesprompts. This fic is a rewrite of Drink Had Me by Jordan Davis.

🎵Hell, I was up to nothing

🎵Just sittin' home alone

🎵Yeah, I was gonna cash it in

🎵About to put down my phone

🎵And I had a message waitin'

🎵Them boys won't let me sleep

🎵So I told 'em I would meet 'em out

🎵And just have one drink

Ethan was mentally and physically exhausted. He could feel the stress he’d been carrying deep in his bones. His muscles sighed as he sunk into the comfort of his couch and rested his head on the back cushion. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, enjoying the peace and quiet of his empty apartment.

He tried to push aside the thoughts that had plagued him. The budget crisis. The selfish billionaire. The competition with Tobias. The situation with his mother. But mostly, it was Sawyer that occupied his mind. He worried that the constant push and pull between them was nearing a breaking point.

She had recently gone behind his back and opened Pandora’s box. She compromised the team’s mission. She called him a “goddamn diva” in front of his colleagues. Worst still, it’s what she said when helping him set up his Pictagram profile. “It’s love, Ethan. It doesn’t have to make sense. I guess you just… feel it.” The words nagged at him constantly, and not because she was probably right - like she was right about everything else - but because he felt something. Something unfamiliar. Something scary. Something he hoped was reciprocated.

DING! That sound used to annoy him, but now it made him eager to check his phone, because there was only one person who insisted on texting him. Quickly reaching for his phone, he sighed disappointedly when he saw the message was not from Sawyer.

Ethan groaned. He had forgotten that this morning, while working out with his gym buddies, he made plans to meet them at Donahue's for drinks and a game of pool. In an attempt to rouse Rafael from his suspension-induced funk, Sawyer proposed the night out. And in all honesty, Ethan only agreed because he saw it as an opportunity to spend time with her. It was only after he committed to attend that Sawyer bothered to mention she had prior plans with Stephanie, their coma patient.

Ethan arrived at Donohue’s thirty minutes later and swore to himself he would only stay for one drink.

“... and then she said, ‘Oh, would you prefer to be called a spoiled child or an entitled jackass?’ You should have seen your face, man.” Baz, who had wandered over earlier to say hello, couldn’t contain his laughter as he told the story of Sawyer calling Ethan a diva to everyone gathered around the pool table.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan ordered another drink while the guys racked the pool balls for another game.

“... speaking of workouts... Raf, remember when you asked Sawyer why she liked to work out? And she said because she wants to look good naked. Dude. Best response ever,” Bryce recalled with a laugh as he shared another round of tequila shots.

Ethan gladly accepted, swallowing the cheap liquor in one gulp when the memory of Sawyer standing in front of his bedroom window came to mind.

Every time Sawyer’s name was mentioned, which was surprisingly often, Ethan put a glass to his mouth. Better that than inadvertently slipping and revealing something he shouldn’t.

“Okay, time for a round of Fuck-Marry-Kill,” Bryce announced, earning a groan from Rafael. “Since you’re so excited to play, Raf, you can go first. JLo, Shakira, Taylor.”

“Easy. Fuck JLo. Marry Shakira. Kill Taylor,” Rafael answered. After taking a sip of beer, he turned to Elijah. “Your turn. Lara Croft, Leeloo from Fifth Element, and umm… Jamie Lee Curtis' character in Halloween.”

“Damn, man. Uhhh…” Elijah twisted up his lips as he pondered his answer. “I guess I’d fuck Croft, marry Leeloo, and go all Michael Myers on JLC.”

Raising his hand excitedly, Baz jumped in. “Oh, oh, I’ve got one for Ethan… Harper, June, and Sawyer.”

The other men snapped their heads to Ethan, bracing for the explosive impact. But to everyone’s surprise, Ethan threw back another shot and answered without hesitation. “Fuck Harper. Marry Sawyer. Kill June.”

Reggie made the announcement for last call, and at midnight he kicked everyone out, including Ethan. The inebriated men stumbled outside to wait for their rides. Ethan decided to walk for a while, and bid them good night. He strolled down the block until he reached the rose garden near the hospital. Resting on a park bench, he dug his phone from his pocket. But instead of dialing for a ride to take him home, he called Sawyer.

🎵But the drink had me

🎵Callin' you up, talkin' all crazy

🎵Talkin' 'bout us

🎵And catchin' a ride over to your room

🎵And keepin' your roommates up past two

Sawyer’s phone lit up on her nightstand with an incoming call, but she didn’t notice. She had fallen asleep a couple hours ago.

On the other end of the line, Ethan heard her voice. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.”

“Sawyer,” he sighed before continuing, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the phone screen. Sawyer’s contact picture smiled back at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately. I just… I want you so fucking bad,” he confessed. “I need you to be with me.”

He dropped his chin to his chest in defeat and growled. “But I can’t have you.”

He took a deep breath and lifted his head to look at her picture again. “I’ve been losing my goddamn patience with this situation. I don’t want to push you away anymore. It kills me to know that I’m hurting you, but I’m still afraid of what might happen if people find out about us.”

Ethan stood and held the phone at eye level as if trying to look her in the eye. “I feel like I’m on the verge of losing you, Sawyer.”

He began to pace back and forth and rambled on. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said a couple weeks ago. It really fucked me up, because I don’t think I’ve felt like this before.”

“God, Sawyer, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He closed his eyes and whispered to himself. “Sawyer, say it back. Please say it back to me. I don’t want to be alone in this feeling.”

There was a long pause while Ethan stared at his phone, hoping for some sort of reply. “Fuck it. I’m coming over.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when there was a knock on the apartment door. Sienna, who was still up baking, checked the peep hole and unlocked the door. “Dr. Ramsey! What are you doing here so late?”

His eyes were bloodshot and he smelled of whiskey and beer. The drink and exhaustion rapidly stripped away what little control of himself he had left. Ethan steadied himself with a hand on the doorframe and answered, “I need to talk to Sawyer. I need to see her. Is she here?”

Sienna invited him in. With her five-foot-nothing frame, she nervously guided the towering and swaying six-foot-four-inch sack of muscles into a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll be right back.”

Gently knocking first, Sienna let herself into Sawyer’s room. “Sawyer? Sawyer, wake up,” she whispered loudly.

Sawyer awoke with a start, finding Sienna crouched at the side of her bed. “What’s wrong?” she panicked.

“Ummmm… Dr. Ramsey is here.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“He said he needs to speak with you,” Sienna explained.

Sawyer threw her covers aside and stumbled out of bed wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. She quickly checked the time on her phone, noticing the missed call and voicemail notifications from Ethan. “I swear to God, if he’s here to drag me out of bed for another diagnostics case…” she trailed off.

“I don’t think that’s why,” her friend said, leading her down the hallway.

Once her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting in the kitchen, Sawyer spotted Ethan sitting at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands. His body language reminded her of the times when he had felt pretty hopeless, like when Dolores died and when Naveen was sick. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ethan lifted his head and let out a small sigh of relief recognizing her. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice tired and gravelly.

She followed his eyes to Sienna, who had gone back to her baking. “Let’s go to my room.”

Ethan stood and followed her down the hall. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he threw himself against the wall to keep from stumbling over. Sawyer grimaced at the loud thump, hoping it didn’t wake her other roommates. She quickly tucked herself under his arm and helped him the rest of the way.

Just as her door clicked closed, Jackie poked her head into the hallway. “What the hell was that?” she called out.

Sienna came into view from the kitchen. “Sorry, Jackie, that was me. Sorry I woke you.”

“Do you ever sleep, Trinh?” Jackie yawned, shutting her door and going back to bed.

🎵The drink had me

🎵Wantin' one more

🎵Wantin' to forget what we broke up for

🎵And doin' that make up, wake up thing

🎵I just went in there to have one drink

🎵But the drink had me

Sawyer sat Ethan down on the side of her bed, then stood in front of him casually crossing her arms. “What’s going on? Did something happen? Is this about your mom?”

His head felt like a sloshing fishbowl when he shook it. Focusing on her bare feet, he attempted to ground himself.

Getting more worried, Sawyer stroked her fingers through his hair. “Hey, talk to me.”

Slowly lifting his head, Ethan’s eyes trailed up her long legs to the oversized Hopkins t-shirt she wore. “Is that my shirt?”

Glancing down at the heather gray tee, she replied with a hint of embarrassment, “Yes.”

Sawyer braced her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance when Ethan tugged her close. Standing between his knees, he hugged her tightly around the waist and rested the side of his face against her stomach.

“I miss you,” he mumbled.

A beat later his hands dropped to the back of her thighs. His fingertips lightly caressed her soft skin, eliciting goosebumps. Lifting his eyes to gauge her reaction, he slowly slid his hands higher, palming her backside and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Ethan,” she warned, gripping his forearms to prevent his hands from wandering any further.

“I want you,” he said, kissing her belly through the t-shirt she had stolen from him.

“Ethan, you’re drunk.”

“Say it back,” he whined.

“Say what back?”

“That you still want me.”

She sighed deeply. “Ethan…” When he looked at her with desperate, pleading eyes, she took a seat on his knee. “I want you too,” she repeated and cupped his cheek, “but not like this. Not a drunken mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Ethan asserted. “I know what I want.”

She shook her head. “I know you, Ethan. You’ll regret it in the morning when you’re clearheaded.”

Ethan began to protest when the nausea hit. “I won’t… I–,” he paused and swallowed, “I’m going to be sick.”

Sawyer jumped off his lap and grabbed her garbage pail just in time. Ethan wretched the contents of his stomach while she soothingly rubbed his back. When he was finished, Sawyer offered him a tissue and a sip from her water bottle. She then knelt before him and removed his shoes and socks.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you ready for bed. You’re in no shape to go anywhere right now. You can stay here and sleep it off.” As she stood, she reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. “Scoot back and lie down,” she instructed. Ethan complied.

She met his hooded eyes, giving him a look of warning. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said before unbuttoning his pants. “Lift your butt.” After carefully tugging off his jeans, she neatly folded his clothes and set them atop her dresser. Returning to his side, she tucked him under the covers.

“Where are you going?” he murmured when she stepped toward the door.

“I’m just going to clean this up and grab you some aspirin,” she answered, picking up the small waste bin. “Do you need or want anything else?”

Ethan shook his head.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised with an assuring smile.

When Sawyer returned a few minutes later, Ethan’s eyes were closed and he was lightly snoring. She turned out the lights and crawled under the covers. Hugging the edge of her full-size bed, she resisted the urge to curl up next to him, and soon dozed off.

🎵Next morning came too early

🎵Heart poundin' in my head

🎵And it took me just a second

🎵To realize I know this bed

🎵And it ain't where I belong

🎵But you got my T-shirt on

🎵I blame the alcohol

🎵No, it ain't my fault

🎵The drink had me

Ethan’s head throbbed. The sound of distant, muffled voices had woken him. He cracked his eyes open, thankful for the dim surroundings. Blinking away the fog in his vision, he focused on the ceiling. There was something familiar about the dangling light fixture overhead. A single lightbulb hung from a rope cord. The gentle breeze that wafted through the window caused it to sway back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. Aware that he was not at home, Ethan’s eyes swept the small bedroom, taking in every detail. As recognition set in, his heart began to race, intensifying the pounding in his head.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, his senses were overwhelmed with the sweet smell of her. Daring to cast a quick look downward, he found Sawyer tucked into his side. Her arm was draped across his torso, her thigh across his waist, with a foot nestled between his legs. Ethan’s right arm was at her back, holding her close. His left hand gripped the back of her bent knee, as if he had been using the leverage to keep her locked in place. She was wearing his t-shirt, and he was only wearing underwear.

He reached into the black box of his mind for any remembrance, but came back empty handed. He didn’t know what to be more upset about. The eventual fallout from this reckless encounter, or the cruel twist of fate of taking Sawyer to bed again and not remembering a damn thing about it.

When her alarm rang out, Ethan silently cursed. “No, not yet.” He needed more time to figure his way out of this mess. More time holding her body against his.

Sawyer groaned in frustration as her phone sang a melodic tune of chirping birds. As she did every morning, she buried the tip of her cold nose into her pillow and inhaled. Only it wasn’t her pillow she smooshed her face into this morning. It was Ethan’s chest. His warmth and scent aroused her senses, and she was instantly awake.

Seeing that he was too, she pushed back from him and tried to cover herself with the forgotten comforter. “Shit, sorry,” she whispered, rolling away to silence her phone.

Her surprise and embarrassment confused him. “Why are you apologizing?”

She turned to face him, making sure to keep a safe distance. “I tried to keep to my side. I must have rolled over in my sleep and snuggled up to you.”

“Keep to your side? Did we not…?”

She shook her head.

Ethan looked up at the ceiling and expelled a breath.

Sensing his relief, Sawyer swiftly climbed out of bed. “I’m going to get ready for work. Your clothes are on the dresser and your phone is charging on the desk. My roommates should be leaving soon.”

“Sawyer-”

“It’s fine, Ethan,” she said, rummaging through her dresser drawers. “We can talk about it later when you feel better. Or if you prefer, not at all, because nothing happened.” Ethan rubbed the spot between his eyes. “There's some water and aspirin on the nightstand,” she pointed out before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind her.

A while later, they left the apartment and shared a ride to the hospital, successfully avoiding the topic of last night. They limited their conversation to simple questions and one-word answers, merely enough to get out the door and on their way.

“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sawyer said, and not waiting for reciprocation, she hurried away.

Ethan watched until she disappeared through the sliding doors of the hospital’s main entrance. He cursed at himself the entire walk to Donohue’s to retrieve his car. They may not have slept together, but he still ended up on her doorstep last night and tangled in her bed this morning. He hoped once the hangover cleared, he would remember why, so they could clear the air.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Sawyer was slow to leave the diagnostics office when their team meeting ended the next day. The tension between her and Ethan was so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to study him, watching as he stacked case files, doing his best to ignore her. “This feels like the morning after Miami all over again,” she finally spoke.

Ethan stopped what he was doing, took a deep breath, and braced himself for the conversation he had been dreading. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you the other night.”

She shook her head as if she didn’t care about that. Shifting her gaze out the window, she bit the corner of her lip before speaking again. “Do you remember calling me? Leaving a voicemail?”

Ethan swallowed hard. He had checked his phone yesterday and knew that he dialed her number, but didn’t recall leaving a message. “No. I only remember bits and pieces after leaving Donahue’s.” He took a cautious step toward her. “What... what did I say?” he asked, trying to hide his nerves.

“It doesn't matter,” she sighed, still looking out the window, “you probably didn't mean it.” She downplayed her disappointment with a quiet chuckle, “I never pegged you for a sappy drunk.”

Ethan stepped in front of her, cupping her chin to force her to look at him. “I meant it,” he said firmly.

“You just said you don’t remember–”

“I don't,” he interjected, “but if the result was me showing up at your door, and waking up with you in my arms, then whatever I said… I meant it.” Gazes locked on each other, Ethan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sawyer’s lips finally turned up in a small, forgiving smile.

That smile slowly changed to a mischievous one. Ceasing the opportunity, she started to back away as she spoke. “Well in that case…" She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I want to get married in June. A fancy church wedding and a huge reception. Oh, and let’s honeymoon in Paris! It will be so romantic.”

“Funny–”

“But you should know, I plan to keep my last name,” she continued teasing.

“You’re a brat. Get out of here,” he demanded, playfully tossing a pen in her direction as she scrambled to leave.

“Hey!” she yelped, using the door as a shield.

“Oh, and I want my shirt back!” he hollered.

Poking her head back in, she offered a deal. “If you can get me out of it, Ramsey... it’s yours. See ya!”

A/N: Ethan's drunken confession was also inspired by the song Say It Back by Nicklas Sahl.

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose@potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choicesprompts #songrewrite

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lisutarid-a · 11 months

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[Gakuen K] Totsuka Tatara Route Translation

Baked potatoes

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Totsuka: Hey, attention-attentio-o-on. I have a proposal for everyo-o-one.

Mikoto: Let's go home.

Kusanagi: Well then, thank you for your hard wo-ork.

Totsuka: Don't be so cold to me. It's a really good proposal.

Saya: What's good proposal?

Totsuka: Ahh, I knew it. I knew you'd listen to me properly. Good girl.

Kusanagi: Don’t be so thankful, say it already, Totsuka.

Totsuka: Okay-okay. My friend’s friend is a farmer and he gave me a lot of sweet potatoes.

Totsuka: I can't eat it all by myself, so why don't we all bake potatoes together? That's what I'm proposing. How about it?

Saya: That's great, sounds like fun.

Yata: Is it the standard one that uses fallen leaves?

Totsuka: Un-uh. It's the type where you put fallen leaves into a drum. But that doesn't change the fact that you'll still need a lot of fallen leaves.

Yata: Roger. Kamamoto, let's go gather them right away!

Kusanagi: Yata-chan acts fast.

Saya: That's what's good about Yata-kun.

Totsuka: That's true. You and I will be in charge of picking up fallen leaves as well. Kusanagi-san is in charge of wrapping the potatoes in foil.

Kusanagi: Are you forcing me to participate? Well, fine. I'll do that much.

Totsuka: As for King, let me see... I guess he’ll be a mascot character.

Saya: Mascot character?

Totsuka: Right. Make sure that no one takes the fallen leaves that we gather. Okay?

Mikoto: I got it.

Kusanagi: "Don't let take the fallen leaves", I don't think there are many people who steal leaves.

Totsuka: No-no, there are. The world of baked potatoes is much darker than Kusanagi-san thinks.

Kusanagi: The hell is the baked potato world...

Saya: Totsuka-senpai, I brought the fallen leaves.

Totsuka: Uhm, put them there.

Saya: Hey, where's Souh-senpai?

Totsuka: We had collected a lot of fallen leaves, so I asked him to call Kusanagi-san.

Saya: It that so. I thought Suoh-senpai weren't too enthusiastic about all of this.

Totsuka: King is just hard to understand. But after all, he's kind. ...Oh.

Saya: What happened?

Totsuka: Uhm, like this...stay still.

Saya: (S-so close)

Saya: S-senpai...?

Totsuka: This. You had a dry leaf in your hair.

Saya: I-Is that so. A dry leaf...

Totsuka: Hm, what's wrong?

Choice: [Thank you]

Saya: It's nothing. Thank you for going to the trouble.

Totsuka: I don't think it's something you should be thanking me for. Uhm, you're welcome.

Choice: [I'm nervous] ❤

Saya: I'm kind of nervous.

Totsuka: Ahh...Right. Because I'm too close to you.

Totsuka: Fufu, that's tough. I'm getting nervous too.

Totsuka: Oh, right. We need to decide on the position of the baked potato.

Saya: Position?

Totsuka: I have a particular scheme of placing them. Assuming the center of the fire is here, the position to place the potato is...Whaaa.

Saya: Senpai!?

Yata: I brought as much fall leaves as I could!

Kamamato: We did a great job, Yata-san!

Yata: Yeah. I'm sure everyone will be highly pleased with this! ...Where's Totsuka-san?

Saya: Senpai was trapped under the fallen leaves that Yata-kun brought with him...

Yata: Seriosly?! Totsuka-san, hold on!

Totsuka: Cough-cough...Ahh, what a surpri-ise...

Yata: Sorry, Totsuka-san. I didn't notice...

Totsuka: It's fine, it's fine, don't worry about it. Aside from that, Yata and Kamamoto. Thanks for gathering the fallen leaves.

Yata: Y-Yeah! Hehe...

Kusanagi: What is it, Totsuka, are you pretending to be a bagworm?

Totsuka: Something like that. Kusanagi-san, you've done too?

Kusanagi: If not me than who. Look, I brought the potatoes.

Totsuka: Thank you. Well, I'm going to bake them. Let's light the fire.

Totsuka: Hmmm, it's hard to get it lit. I planted some newspapers in there, just in case, but I guess that's not enough...

Yata: Maybe the fire isn’t strong enough? Then I'll be the one to...

Saya: Em...May I try?

Yata: You?

Saya: But I'm not sure that I can do it...

Totsuka: It's fine, it's fine, please try.

Yata: Eh, is it alright?

Totsuka: Isn't that okay? It's very good that she has a spirit of challenge.

Yata: If Totsuka-san says it's good then...

Totsuka: Okay. Now, you try it. I hope the result would be as good as I think it would be.

Saya: Yeah.

Saya: (First of all, let's imagine. As that time when I used my power to save Totsuka-senpai from the cage during the training camp)

Saya: (As I recall, at that moment, my hands became hot and I felt my ability gathering)

Saya: (Uhm. Now I feel like I can do it. ...Don't let the little fire in front of me disappear...Just a bit more fire...)

Totsuka: Wow! Amazing...The fire immediately becomes bigger...Eh.

Yata: S-Somehow...Isn't this flame strangely big?

Kamamoto: Y-yeah. And what else, it's somehow...looks like it's increasing...

Kusanagi: That's bad, it's going to explode! Totsuka!

Totsuka: I know. You, hurry up and run!

Saya: Eh!

Totsuka: Yaaah, I ran and ran. I'm ti-ired...

Mikoto: Oi, where's the potatoes?

Totsuka: Huh, King. I couldn't find you, have you been here all the time?

Mikoto: What's with the potatoes?

Totsuka: I see, you've been waiting for baked potatoes. We-ell, potatoes are...

Saya: Probably gone...

Mikoto: What do you mean?

Saya: I used my ability to fire up the fallen leaves. And then...

Mikoto: ... Is that why there was the explosion sound earlier?

Saya: Did you hear it from this far?

Mikoto: Yeah. You've done some pretty funny things.

Saya: Funny...?

Kusanagi: It's "funny" because it's more work for the student council members.

Saya: Kusanagi-san...

Kusanagi: The amount of work over there is overwhelming.

Totsuka: Kusanagi-san, where's Yata and the others?

Kusanagi: Shopping. I sent them out to buy some random snacks.

Kusanagi: It's a pity that we can't eat potatoes anymore, but don't be upset.

Saya: Everyone was looking forward to it and was so excited, sorry I messed up all the preparations.

Totsuka: Un-uh. It's alright. You didn't do it on purpose.

Totsuka: There was no evil intent there, right? The result wasn’t good. That's all it is.

Saya: Senpai...

Totsuka: "Amazing" I thought about your power. ...It's more correct to say that I though about it again.

Totsuka: It's too strong, and this time it went out of control. If you master it, you'll be invincible.

Totsuka: I hope you can get it under control. I'm rooting for you.

[Prev chapter] [Next chapter]

#k project #gakuen k #gakuen k wonderful school days #otome translation #totsuka tatara #suoh mikoto #kusanagi izumo #yata misaki #kamamoto rikio

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trackinghallownest · 5 years

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-slides into your dms- tell me about your vessel ocs!!!! Whose your favorite. Everyone has a favorite even if they don't like to admit it! And is it ok if I draw them interacting with my vessel ocs?

HHfngfh gh i’m,,, thank you for this ask i’m dying,, i will absolutely go off if you dont mind me taking this chance!! ft doodles!! because i can!! and you absolutely can draw them with yours i will probably cry and definitely draw interactions back udfkfhvdf;;

some of this i may have mentioned in other posts but i cant for the life of me keep track of what ive put here compared to the discord so! i’m just going to fact dump! and put under a cut so i don’t completely fill peoples’ dashes shkfd

first is gonna be spindle since. i love them. theyre probably my favourite. and also the first i made. theyre just babie

they really are just babey,,

kind of accidentally an endless source of lifeblood which is a long story but its not.. very fun. to be constantly covered in plants. by adulthood most of their torso and one of their limbs is almost completely replaced/encased in plant matter

they take this pretty well actually. even if it gets a lot harder to move

for a vessel they grew up to full size much quicker than others of their kind, likely due to the lifeblood’s properties, but really nobody has much of a clue. didnt have time to get used to their size and still has VERY bad spatial awareness

broke their horn tip by smacking it on a low ceiling hkfdnfbdmvdf

plants bursting out of their shell and eye have pretty badly damaged it, and they can’t see out of the broken eye

theyre trying their hardest!! always!! they can’t move around very well and sometimes get lonely sitting at home in dirtmouth but they’re friendly to just about anybody and have so much love to give

seriously they dont even eat but they like to make sure they have food and drink at home in case anyone drops in and needs it

they’ve never been able to fight, and shy away from violence or combat in all forms

very scared of the dark and carries a lantern with them at all times, usually around their neck

discharges excess lifeblood into soil and grows a garden from it - keeps it from overtaking their body any further, and it’s something to do

not the best at communicating since a wood arm makes signing stiff and tricky, but they’re not much of a talker (signer?) anyway

then we have scratch n thimble who are kinda twins but not really. yeah those are matching scarves they are Bros (sibs??)

scratch FIGHTS THINGS and USES A REAL BIG NAIL

the biggest of all my vessel ocs, just in general. a big and strong friend

made it to the palace but got tossed for starting to care too much and takin a blow for another sibling. saved thimble from dying down there too and they were absolutely inseparable since

really just the embodiment of the ‘you befriended x! x would now die for you’ meme not gonna lie

has almost literally died for Multiple siblings n friends before but they wouldn’t let them. which is, a good thing

too reckless for their own good especially in their younger years but thankfully mellows out quite a bit by adulthood

tries to keep up a strong stoic front but also doesnt hesitate to abandon it if needed. theyre big soft really (they wont admit it tho)

has The Biggest soft spot for kids do not let them tell you otherwise

fought for the sake of it in the colosseum for many years before Stuff And Things involving yet another vessel happened and they kinda trashed the place and never went back

their nail is about as big and heavy as their entire body and they’re surprisingly good at using it for something so unwieldy. could probably crush most bugs just by virtue of it being So Damn Big

spends a lot of time when grown at the howling cliffs keeping an eye on those travelling into the kingdom, and deterring those with malicious intent

they got that eye wound from their sibling… it was technically an accident. they still don’t talk about it though

contrary to their twin thimble is the smallest vessel (as a babby at least - they do end up standing taller than spin and ruth when fully grown)

they have the very unfortunate problem of their shade having fused with void tendrils from the abyss sea as a babby

as such their shade is very violent and kinda has a habit of literally bursting out their shell and lashing out at anything around them under stress

eventually they get a handle on it and learn to control the literally overflowing void inside them but until then their entire life is pretty much a big clusterfuck of trying not to kill people, which they hate

they’re very timid and shy and cling to familiar figures (especially scratch) probably too much, but strike out on their own much more growing up

theyre very strong and capable, moreso than most magic users, but you wouldn’t guess it. the only time they’d even consider showing it is in another’s defense

uses void tendrils like extra limbs. very functional! can hold many things (or offer many hugs) at once. may be slightly slimy though.

their cloak is very long and would probably benefit from being trimmed shorter but they absolutely refuse to let anyone touch it. its kinda grimy at this point and they trip a lot but don’t do anything about it

friends with a bunch of mossflies they picked up in the gardens! they all have names

can communicate with other void-creatures by sharing some of their own void! this was discovered entirely by accident but very useful, if awkward to explain

sure they’re kinda timid and like being on their lonesome, but they’re also very level-headed and friendly, and get along very well with low-energy quieter sorts of people especially

ruth is a small vessel rn/as far as i’ve worked out a timeline for! i know what they look like big but as far as the content on this blog currently goes theyre just .. smal

actual infant. hadnt actually been wandering out of the abyss that long before being dragged up to the colosseum to fight for sport

really doesnt have much of a clue how to act at first, other than ‘stab things before they stab you’

their name comes from ‘ruthless’, a nickname they got in the colosseum because they literally did not (appear to) give two shits whether they lived or died in battle. they’d just come back, anyway

scratch was the one that found them flinging a nail around and immediately went ‘oh thats a baby. this is bad, actually’

for the first short while of freedom scratch is the only one they’ll let even get close to them, and pretty much clings to them relentlessly. not a moments rest

they were actually pretty badly infected by the time they were broken out but theyre better now (another long story)

doesn’t have a natural cloak - it was ripped out and never grew back in. they make do though! their ‘new’ one was made from part of scratch’s that they ripped off and fixed together. they love it more than anything

once they actually figured out not everyone was out to kill them they stopped fighting back, and became a lot more curious and lively in general

still has a very warped and guarded sense of trust, however

kinda iffy around weapons and reacts badly to confrontation but does eventually learn to fight again (just.. in a better way)

pretty short even when grown, and going by height alone is the shortest when they’re all big

likes picking up pretty trinkets and things and carrying them around. has a few tied to their horns (as well as many pockets)

i have just now decided that spite counts as well! they dont actually survive to adulthood in any timeline i have currently (sorry spite) so big spite is entirely a theoretical but theyre fun to draw so

now spite? spite wins the babiest baby award

has one single braincell that bounces around their shell like a windows screensaver

their name indicates they are capable of feeling any negative emotion or hatred which is entirely untrue. by the time this was figured out they already wouldn’t answer to anything else

absolutely no sense of self-preservation or common sense. they are, in most regards, a very cute and very stupid dog

got lost on their way out of the abyss the first time around, ended up in the lighthouse and met friend mori!! was almost caught but eventually smuggled out and away

spent a lot of the time on the run in city of tears with said friend who was pretty much presumed dead by then. got taken in by a family, enjoyed themselves for a while

…but were eventually caught and thrown right back into the abyss along with mori killing them both for real this time. unfortunately.

cut to MANY years later and oops! their shade fused with the corpse and for some ungodly reason theyre both alive. time for the worst buddy comedy ever ft. literal pile of goop and body parts

spite does not seem to know nor care that theyre dead however

mostly happy to sit up there on mori’s shell and nap for hours at a time or fiddle with literally anything in reach. give them a cool rock and they’ll be entertained for hours. they are but a simple creacher

they do actually eventually learn to use a nail but who’s idea was it to give a child a sword. seriously i just wanna talk

#crazandlion #asks #if you actually read this far i would kill and die for you this took me 3 hours to write #and i think it was maybe worth it #hdfkfdvkjfdhvdhf #it was good to gather my thoughts on em i guess? hell yeah #tthank you;;#my ocs #spindle #thimble #scratch #ruth #spite #this was such a great ask to get i am still reeling i. yes #ohyes!! one last reminder theyre all agender/nb and if you gender them on purpose i'll break ur knees (they/them for all please)#(jk but i will correct you)

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noellawrites · 2 years

Text

Strengths and Weaknesses - platonic!Johnny Lawrence x fem!reader

summary: Johnny sees you crying outside of prom and offers some support

Prom was supposed to be the best night of your life. That’s what all the books, movies and TV shows said. A night you won’t forget. Yeah, you wished you could forget tonight forever.

Things had started out fine. You came “alone,” but still danced and hung out with with the Miyagi Do’s and fellow Eagle Fangs. You and Eli even took to the dance floor and danced the robot to some stupid Ed Sheeran song.

A week ago, your father swung back into town. You hadn’t seen him in years, since the last time he took off for Rhode Island or some other East Coast state. But now he was back, giving you rent money, making your lunches and even buying you the prom dress of your dreams. But when your mother reminded you that he couldn’t be trusted, you knew his visit would be short-lived. But not this short.

Because here you were now, sitting on the curb crying outside of the prom venue because of the text he sent you: Sorry sweet pea, but I’ve gotta get back to Massachusetts. I love you.

Bullshit. He left just as he had came because it was always so embarrassingly easy for him to abandon your family whenever it was convenient for him. You wanted more for your siblings and hell, you wanted better for yourself. You were always left alone at every daddy-daughter dance, donut breakfast and beyond. Sure you hated school-sanctioned events but you were still that sad six-year-old inside, the one with the father who never showed up.

When you saw Johnny’s Eagle Fang van whip into the parking lot, you stood up to head back inside. You couldn’t let your sensei see you showing any weakness.

“(y/l/n), get over here! How was your night? Ready to hit the mat tomorrow?” he exclaimed as your back was turned to him.

As you turned around slowly, you watched Johnny’s expression melt into a sympathetic one. Tears stained your face and the front of your dress which was quite obviously visible.

“What happened? Hey, why don’t you get in the van and we’ll go for a ride? Diaz can wait,” Johnny offered through the rolled-down window, motioning to you.

You nodded silently and gathered your dress, taking a seat on the passenger side.

“How ‘bout you tell me what’s going on? Is it the tournament? ‘Cause I need you in top shape to beat LaRusso and Tory,” he joked with a tone of honesty.

Thinking about the tournament only caused you to cry harder, sniffling and attempting to swallow your sobs.

Johnny fished around the backseat with one hand as he stopped by the parking lot exit, grabbing a tissue box and handing it to you.

“Its my dad, h-he left again. I don’t even know w-why it surprises me anymore, I guess I just wanted better for my family this time,” you explained tearfully as Johnny drove down the streets of Encino.

“Your dad was always a dirtbag, even in high school,” Johnny sighed.

“I thought you were friends with him in high school?”

“Exactly. My point is, no matter how old you are, you can always try to do better and I know you thought that's what your dad was doing. But some people never change, they’ll be shitty ‘til the end. You just gotta find the good ones and keep ‘em around. Make your own family. That’s what Cobra Kai was to me, and it’s what Eagle Fang can be for you. We all know your potential in and out of the dojo. You’ve got heart, a hell of a lot more than your father. He’s just some hardened jerk who thinks he’s the shit. Don’t let him get to you,” Johnny said, patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“That’s good advice, Johnny. Thank you. It really means a lot to know you’re here for me. Thanks for being my sensei,” you smiled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You were lucky to have so many people around you who loved you and were there no matter what.

#johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #johnny lawrence #cobra kai

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sanguineterrain · 3 years

Text

Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.

Title: Brooklyn Honey

Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nah

***

“That’s so not how you do it.”

“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”

“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”

“Smartass. C’mere.”

Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.

“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”

“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”

“I keep it interesting, doll.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”

Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.

“Buck—”

“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

More knocking, faster and louder this time.

“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”

Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.

You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.

He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.

“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”

“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”

“You don’t have a bike, James.”

“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”

“Steve rides a bike?”

“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”

“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”

“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”

She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.

You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”

“Well, ouch, doll.”

“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”

“We can be the first.”

“Next time, I’m answering the door.”

You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.

“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”

“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”

“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”

“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.

“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”

“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.

You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.

Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.

Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.

The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.

“How’s it goin’?”

“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”

“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.

“What? Don’t want you to fall.”

“How valiant of you.”

“Ain’t it?”

He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.

“Beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.

Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.

Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.

“The city.”

***

“Honey, I’m home!”

“What did I say about that, Barnes?”

“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”

“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”

“I always mean it, Y/N.”

And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.

“What’s that?”

Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.

“Lemons.”

“What?”

“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”

Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.

“Lemon’s not a fruit.”

“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“

“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”

“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”

“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”

“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”

“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”

“Bucky.”

“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”

You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.

“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”

You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.

“Welcome, doll.”

He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.

“You gonna stay for dinner?”

“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.

“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

He shrugged.

“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”

“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”

“I’m a bright fella.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You ain’t saying no…”

“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?”

“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.”

Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you.

You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table.

“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?”

“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.

“Yeah. We always do.”

***

Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.

The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.

“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”

Steve frowned.

“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”

“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”

Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.

“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”

“Sure are.”

“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”

“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”

“What?”

“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”

“And he wants my furnishing tips?”

Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.

“Guess so.”

You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Want some lemonade?”

“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”

“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.

He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.

“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”

Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.

“Sure, doll. Thanks.”

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.

You turned to Steve, who shrugged.

“Long day at the docks, I guess.”

***

June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.

Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.

You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.

“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”

You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.

The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.

“This city is so ugly.”

Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.

“Think so?”

“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”

“I can.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”

“That was sappy.”

“Yes it was.”

Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.

“But I ain’t mean it any less.”

You hummed, closing your eyes.

“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You could hear his proud smile.

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”

“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”

“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”

Something fluttered in your chest.

“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”

He smiled.

“With you, doll?”

“Yeah.”

“With you, of course.”

“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.

“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.

“You.”

Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.

You turned, now face to face.

And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.

He smiled a little sadly.

“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”

You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.

“You were right, you know.”

“‘Bout what?”

“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”

Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.

“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”

You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.

“And I’m gonna keep staying.”

“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”

“I’ll swim.”

“Even in the winter?”

“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”

“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”

“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”

Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.

“I’ll be there, honey.”

“Now what did we say about that?”

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.

“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”

You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.

“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”

Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.

Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.

Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.

“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”

“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”

“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”

“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”

“Oh, great.”

You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.

“Call me honey again.”

“Honey, honey, honey.”

You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.

“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”

Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.

“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”

You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.

“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.

“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”

And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.

But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.

#bucky barnes x reader #1940s bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #kas9kwc #repost for those of you who asked <3

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

BBQ at the Kent's

Clark invites his friends over for a quiet BBQ at Ma's farm. It just doesn't go quite how he expected.

Masterlist

........................................................................

Clark had invited his closest friends and their underlings to a BBQ at Kent farm. So what if his closest friends, all happened to be from the Justice League. Kent Farm was a perfect location. It was out the way so if power mishaps it was unlikely to be observed by anyone passing by. It was a large space so could hold lots of people. Especially as his friends seemed to have a habit of collecting underlings like Pokémon, in particular Bruce. AND it wasn't Wayne manor which despite what Bruce says isn't always a relaxing place to be.

Ma was catching up with Alfred and Lois which was good, Alfred deserved a medal as well as the chance to relax. The teens and kids were mucking about/chilling in the house, and he could catch up with his colleague slash friends and relax.

What he may have miscalculated though was his little sister returning home to see Ma. She knew about him and his 'side job'. She had also, very early on, figured out his friends ‘side jobs’ too. Working it out was a breeze according to her, they weren’t particularly discrete in the beginning (according to her at least). She had covered for him and saved his bacon more times than he would willingly admit. Hell, she's covered for him to them and covered for them without them knowing. She’d provided so many alibis and removed evidence that they hadn’t thought about. The issue though, with his sister turning up, was more that THEY a) didn't know about her and b) didn't know that she knew and finally c) she could quite easily give them all a run for their money.

___________________________________

Walking into her family home she found a swarm of teens lounging around the living room. They were all chatting and talking over each other that they didn't notice her enter. Raising an eyebrow, she spotted Conner, who was currently wrapped around another boy with dark hair.

"Hey Mini Bale! Nice look you got going. Bet it's driving the old men mad and completely beats the plaid shirts and starched suits. Is Haybale out in the yard?"

Conner jumped, causing the others in the room to stop chatting, and looks to see his sort of aunt smirking at him across the room.

"Hey M, didn't know you were coming too? Yeah Clarks out back. Ummm….. why are you here?"

"This is my home too Mini Bale.” She deadpans him, “I was planning to surprise to see Ma as not visited in person for a while. I don’t need to tell Haybale every time I visit, he isn’t the boss of me.” Conner’s aunt pouted before gaining a glint in her eye, “What I wasn't expecting to see was Haybale having a "small gathering” here and not invite moi! But alas it is what it is."

The glint turning into a smug look with a dangerous edge as she took in the room.

"Auntie M!!!", the call distracted her from the room suddenly as Jon ran in from the kitchen and launched himself into a flying jump to hug with the women standing in the room. "Straw stack!! How are you doing sweetie? Made any new friends?"

While Jon dissolved into conversation with his Auntie, Tim took the opportunity to quickly assess the newly dubbed Em. She was well dressed, the sort you don't often see on farms and would be better placed in the city. Her clothes were expensive, the type he often could see board members wearing when relaxing. Even with Jon holding her attention she seemed to have clocked him studying her and nearly everyone else who was watching her interactions. Leaning into his boyfriend he queried.

"Em? Does she? Is she? Who???"

Conner chuckled at Tim's confusion, as well as the mystified faces of the others there.

"Tim, guys, I'd like to introduce you to Clark's sister, and my sorta aunt and Jon’s definite Auntie, Marinette. M for short. And before you ask Tim, no she isn’t like him. She *does* works with Max Kante in developing high tech material and gadgets since well she grew up with Clark and wanted to help him cope with his powers… She and Max created MiracuTech as a result. It’s her brainchild though really, M doesn’t really need Max."

"Mini Bale stop!! You’re dramatizing it. I need Max just as much as he needs me, our skill set complement each other. We couldn’t make half the stuff MiracuTech does without his input.” Marinette blushed, “Max says hi by the way and to tell you to pop by the office. He wants to test his new “creation” with you. Not that that offer will remain if you keep speaking of him like that. But it does remind me, how are you finding the glasses?"

It was Conner’s turn to smirk at his friends, and they could suddenly see the family resemblance in the pair.

"They're are awesome M. Like the play back function is brilliant. I've recorded so much blackmail."

His friends paused and a shiver went down their spines recalling all the incidents that have happened since Conner got his latest sunglasses.

"Fab feedback. I'll let Max know.” Taking as glance around the room, “I'm gonna take a wild guess as say Battle Barbie, Fishtails, Greedy Gonzales and Moody & Broody are out back with Haybale and Ma, Mini Bale?"

That again caused the room to freeze, being siblings with Clark kinda made sense that she would have known his identity, but for Clark to tell her about other identities was worrying. Conner tilted his head and looked at his sorta aunt as if trying to work out what she was planning.

"Yeeeeah, what are you up to M? I'm pretty sure you promised Clark you'd not cause mischief when you met everyone."

"I deny ever making that promise. I have evidence to back up that claim too. Plus, the amount of shit Haybale has caused me cos of his moral compass and lack of impulse control makes it fair game. Though I do support his altruism.” She paused debating what she would say next, “To set the record straight what I *actually* promised was that I would *consider* not causing *too much* mischief. And I have considered it and think that I'll survive this course of action. You’re not the only one with playback ability. Thanks for the info Mini Bale. Let's catch up more later!"

With that she ruffled his hair as she walked past him out to see her dear older brother.

"You've spent too much time as a cat M!" Conner called as he tried to sort out his hair. The room erupted as she left the room. Confusion, mild panic as to whether their identities were at risk and answers were demanded from Conner and Jon. Tim whined at Conner’s comment, "Cat?! We've got to keep B away from her!"

___________________________________

Out in the yard, Clark was relaxed surround by what he supposed was the founding JL members. He'd heard his sister turn up and cause subtle chaos amongst the teens in the house slowly dreading her announcing her arrival out here. Ma would be thrilled to see her. He was too, sort of. Just not in front of everyone. Kon-El was right with her spending too much time as a cat. And Tim was right as well. He'd have to keep Bruce away from her, she'd be just his latest type.

"HAY BALE! You're holding a party for little ol' me?! How delightful of you."

Clark cringed. He still hated her nickname for him.

"Lois! Ma! You both look lovely as ever! Oh, it’s been too long since I've seen you in person."

Marinette swooped past Clark to the ladies and gave them huge hugs before quickly falling into conversation to catching up with them, thankfully ignoring Clark allowing him some time to deal with his friends.

"Why is Marinette K from MiracuTech at your farm Clark?"

Barry quickly asked, staring at his sister with stars in his eyes. Ok maybe it wasn't just Bruce Clark had to worry about.

"Yes, why is the Guardian, Lady Fortune, at your home?" queried Arthur looking at Clark with confusion and slight apprehension.

"MiracuTech… Guardian," Diana quickly put together gasping, looking at Arthur who had cottoned on to her implications as well, then back at Marinette.

"Guys! Please! Cool it, M I hope," Clark quickly glared at his sister, who was grinning manically knowing the trouble she was causing for him, "can answer your questions and Barry, M, Marinette, is my sister. Why wouldn't she come here? Though this wasn't planned visit that I was aware of."

"You have a sister."

Bruce stated, as Diana and Arthur wondered off talking in hushed tones. Clark could hear that they had figured out one of her 'other' identities but was content that they wouldn't add drama for the moment he redirected his attention back to Bruce.

Clark sighed tiredly, "yes, I have a sister, Bruce. Who likes to keep her personal life private. Which is why you guys have just found out about her and not before."

"Is she Kryptonian?"

"Bruce!! you can't ask Clark that!!" Barry exclaimed, not really surprised by his bluntness but still Alfred was about, and he was ‘Bruce’ currently so social etiquettes, and all should be observed.

"What can't Moody & Broody ask Haybale, Greedy Gonzales?" Marinette enquired, a picture of planned innocence, as she snuck up on them. She gave Clark a side hug and a ‘knowing’ sibling smile.

"M… please… stop with that nickname. Bruce was just asking if you were adopted as well."

"Fine!" She rolled her eyes, "Boy Scout it is then. Moody & Broody I'm not adopted. Ma and Pa had me as a 'Surprise! you're pregnant’ a few years after they'd adopted Boy Scout here"

Bruce frowned at the names she'd been given them. While she just gave a facade of innocence, she held a glint in her eye that destroyed the illusion along with the names she was giving everyone.

Ignoring Clark and Bruce, Marinette turned to Barry to discuss his work at S.T.A.R labs and potential collaboration with MiracuTech. Clark internally groaned as he watched his sister get animated about some sort of tech project she wanted to discuss.

Bruce observed the interaction. It was clear that she knew more than she was letting on. Though he had done research on his peers to know their weaknesses and strengths, Clark having a younger sister never came up. How he had hidden her was impressive, unless it was herself who had hidden her existence from him… That was worrying causing Bruce to deepen his frown as he watched Barry and Marinette chat.

Clark joined in frowning at the pair, but because of how was Barry flirting with his BABY sister before he started to groan as it seemed to go completely over her head. She still seemed to be oblivious to those around her liking her slightly more than friendship.

"M! Ma's told you before no business talk at home."

Laughing back at him his sister nodded "We’ll have to continue this discussion another day maybe Greedy Gonzalez, when Boy Scout isn't being all boy scout-y and acting like a golden child."

Seeing an opportunity Diana butted in and 'subtly' tried to guide Marinette to where she was sitting with Arthur. "Lady Fortune, it's an honour to meet you in person. My mother has told many a tale of our mutual friends’ legacy"

"M is fine. Lady is much too formal for my liking right Ms Prince? Our friends have told me much about your mother as well Battle Barbie. But I must say I'd be more interested to hear about your curator work at the Louvre" Allowing herself to be led away.

___________________________________

Bruce gave Clark a patented batglare, "She knows." Clark rubbed his neck before back at Bruce.

"Yes. She knows. She's my sister. It's kinda hard to hide learning how to manage superpowers from family you know. It was her and Pa that helped find solutions to manage the powers. Lead glasses… her idea."

Growling at Clarks response. "She knows ours. You told her"

Taking a deep breath, "No Bruce.” Clark sighed out, praying to the god’s his sister cared for, for the patience to deal with his paranoid friend, “I didn't. She's smart. Ridiculously and stupidly smart but that's aside. She *knows* who I am. She follows my career, like I do hers. She knows who I work with, like I know who she works with. And who my friends are. The info is all there to work it out. She's also got me out of tight spots as an alibi way too often. I'm pretty sure this is opportunistic revenge for it. Especially for all she did before Lois *knew*"

"Oh god it was her calling you at the watch tower that made you pale. Not Ma Kent!!" Barry cackled, "She's the one you're scared of!!"

"Ssshhhhh Barry! Yes! She terrifies me. Much more than little sisters should. You do realise she has covered all your butts more than you think too. Remember she is a tech genius, she works *with other* tech genius’s and we, sometimes in a rush in the early days, forgot about cameras and visuals lining up."

Barry paled at that. Bruce on the other hand looked intrigued. Of course, her problem solving, and detective skills would attract him. "How long has she known?"

"Mine, since forever and never told anyone. Yours, as she has never said anything directly, I’m going to guess since we worked together the first times. I don’t really know for how long, but it’s been since the early days. You don’t need to worry though; she understands the need for secrets and how to keep them. This,” Clark says waving his hand around, “is her way to letting you know she knows without stating it. It’s definitely her subtle form of revenge on me for having to hack large corporations and delete footage or claiming that I was with her visiting so couldn’t get caught out.”

Clark turned to Bruce all serious, “Don’t antagonise or integrate her. Please Bruce! She can and will break into the Batcomputer and cause it to run slow and force your phones and alarms to only play baby shark.”

“So, she’s the one who helped you hack LexCorp to get the evidence required for your latest article”

“That’s what you got from that?! That my genius *baby* sister sometimes, might, maybe, help gather evidence to take down corrupt businessmen and politicians?! Not the fact that you shouldn’t wind her up!!”

“Well I know your tech skills aren’t up to scratch and though there was potential for Lois, it doesn’t really fit her MO so its nice to know how you truly do it. Do you think she would tell us how she hacked into JL main computer and the bat computer? Or be willing to assist in building better protection.”

Clark stared at Bruce, and was about to respond, but before he could Diana caught his eye as she knelt before M holding her hand. Stars in Diana’s eyes while Arthur looked like he was going to faint.

He groaned. Now, Diana!

His baby sister was really trying to stress him out with all the potential shovel talks he would need to make. The shimmer in her eyes when she briefly caught him looking at her suggested that she may be more aware that she was letting on. With the headache she was causing him, he would need a drink after all this.

Thankfully, before Marinette could cause more chaos with the Atlantean and Amazonian, her phone went off resulting in her slinking off to deal with what sounded like guardian issues from his eaves dropping giving what he thought was breathing room.

“Are you ok Arthur? Do I need to talk to M?” Clark enquired to his friend, hoping his sister hadn’t caused too much trauma for his friend.

“She can hold both sides of the balance and not succumb to the pressure or temptation. A true soul and so young. You let this all happen to your younger sister?”

Ok so she had caused some trauma for the Atlantean after all. He was certain it was related to the cat as well as the bug.

“Let is a strong word, Arthur. Forced is more appropriate. M is more stubborn than Bruce at times. And at 14... yeah hormonal teenage younger sister in Paris. My hand was forced.”

Diana and Arthur choked looking at Clark in horror, “14!?!?!”

Both Bruce and Barry raised an eye at him in judgement. Like they’re ones to talk with how young they let their mentees join the field.

“It is decided. She will be traveling with me to Themyscira and to Atlantis when Arthur puts on his ‘big boy pants’. She requires extra support in this matter.”

“14? Extra support? Diana, what are you talking about? She is in her 20’s not 14. You can’t kidnap Clark’s sister, Can she?”

Barry looked perplexed by the situation. Unsure on what they are talking about. She seemed to be fine and had survived years without assistance and knowing about their identities. Going to Themyscira and Atlantis would not help with that.

Staring at Clark with an unnerving intensity, Bruce answered Barry’s questions.

“She was one of the Parisian heroes. Their leader from what Diana and Arthur are suggesting. She started her extracurricular activities before even we officially did, much younger than we were and Clark didn’t stop her.”

“Oh.... Wait?! You didn’t stop her!!”

Clark was really regretting this BBQ. It was starting to feel more like an interrogation on his big brother skills, a judgement on his mentoring capability NOT a relaxing escape with friends.

“It would explain why Clark was so insistent of a some of the support protocols now,” Bruce mused. “She didn’t let you help and forced you stay away, didn’t she? Your powers, if you got akumatised, had the potential to cause a global disaster and the magic could have hurt you out of costume.”

“If you knew this, why are you giving me grief! And Diana, you can’t kidnap M. She has a support network already.”

“I didn’t. You just confirmed it. And more support can never hurt.”

Damn bat with his detective trickery and throwing his own arguments back in his face. Groaning in response Clark looked at his friends,

“Fine. You can ask but it’s HER choice no forcing it ok.”

After some grumbled agreements they all agreed.

___________________________________

“I hate you,”

“I love you too, Hay Bale.”

Marinette grinned at her brother with a cup of tea in hand. His friends had finally departed more than one had managed to get him to convince her to exchange numbers. She’d agreed to visit Diana when back in Paris to arrange a visit to Themyscira. It scared him how quickly after the initial interrogation and worry they all accepted her. She was bound to provide them so much blackmail on him. Clark was dreading his next JL meeting.

“You did this on purpose.”

“Not really. Ma knew I was visiting her this month. The fact you were here with everyone was just a perfect opportunity which I took up.”

Clark stared at his sister. None of her nervous tells were showing so wasn’t lying to him, not that she would. She hated secrets, and she carried so many with so many implications if they were revealed. As a result, she hated liars if there was not true reason for them.

“Fine. You do realise I have so many shovel talks now to dish out?”

“What?”

“Did you not see the heart eye’s Barry was giving? Or how Diana was constantly trying to get close? And once Bruce had assessed that you weren’t a threat, kept trying to engage you in conversation about detective stuff?”

“Oh, So, errr, they aren’t like that normally to friends?” A faint blush was making its way across Marinette’s cheeks. “I like wasn’t aware. Can I blame miraculous side effects?”

Clark laughed at his baby sister, yeah as clever as she was, she remained her wonderful blissfully ignorant self on flirting which he adored.

“Nah, they aren’t normally that friendly. Didn’t think you noticed and sure let’s blame the kwami, they caused some of this drama any way. I vote for Plagg and Trixx for being at fault.”

#maribat #maribat au #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #marinette x clark #siblings #platonic #marinette x superfam

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zealous-whispers-of-us-redux · 3 years

Text

homecoming

(A/N: I tweaked an old, unposted [on this blog] fic of mine for @multi-stann and her 1k writing event. I picked the smut prompt: "Love the taste of you, but I need more.”) :)

Warning: demon sex and desecration in/of a church. Please don't read if that offends you!!

SMUT AHEAD

Intoxicating dreams. The feeling of her mouth around his cock. His teeth sinking into her plush bottom lip. Heat racketing up his spine until all he knew was her. Wrapping a hand around her neck and feeding on her pleasure as he fucked her. Taking anything and everything she would offer him. He missed her. He missed her.

He...

Bucky jolted awake in the confession booth. Sweat dripped down his face, and he could still feel the flames of Hell licking his skin. He was hard in his slacks. Crossing himself absently, Bucky muttered a few prayers under his breath because this was happening again. He knew what it all meant. He has been away for centuries, but his past was finally catching up to him. The more vivid the dreams, the closer she was to finding Bucky. And the closer she was to finding Bucky, the more his true nature rose within him as his body fought against the angels' invisible chains. Bucky was hungrier than he had been in a long time, but the runes on his skin made him unable to leave the church, let alone go out and feed.

He checked his watch, and as he expected, it read 3:17 a.m. Bucky's heart thumped excitedly in his chest. He knew that she knew where he was. Finally, she had found him, and she would rescue him from this hell. He opened the door to the confessional just as she blew into the church, stalking nearer and nearer until Bucky could take her in for the first time in years. She looked just as beautiful as he remembered- wild and passionate with eyes that glowed from within. With each step she took, the floor cracked underneath her feet. Crucifixes clattered to the ground, and the stained-glass window shattered, raining colored glass down onto both of them. The statue of the Virgin Mary cried, and she grinned.

"There you are," she said, and Bucky could not take his eyes off of her.

"You found me," he croaked in the language he never forgot, no matter how many beatings he took.

"You’ve been calling out to me for ages, but your jailers kept you well-hidden. Even my father couldn't see you."

"They summoned me," said Bucky bitterly. "They summoned me, an' they stole me as a barginin' chip."

"If they think they can stop this, they're wrong. It is only the beginning. My father has gathered his troops. I asked him to wait until I found you. Lord Belial wasn't happy with me, but I came for you anyway. "

Bucky squirmed at the innuendo, his gaze dropping to her mouth. His stomach rumbled, and she must have heard it because she smiled. He reached out for her, and she threw herself into his arms. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing her in.

“You do remember me, don't you?” she asked, sounding vulnerable in a way he would never expect.

“How could I ever forget my baby?" Bucky asked.

"How come you haven't left this church if you remember me?"

"The runes." He gestured to the symbols carved into his skin. "I can't leave."

"You can leave if the angels who created the runes are dead."

"What did you do?"

"They gambled away their vessels, and I burnt them to a crisp," she said, baring her teeth. "It was a fitting punishment, Father said. If they thought they could take away what is mine, they were wrong if they thought they could hurt you without retribution. They deserve worse than what I gave them."

"You-"

"You're free, Bucky," she said firmly, placing her hands against his cheeks. "What will you do now?"

Bucky kissed her, and it was like slipping a key into a lock. He had forgotten almost everything about his old life, except for her, but she saved him and was now giving everything back. He vividly remembered Hell again, remembered how it was not as dreadful as the angels brainwashed him into believing it was. It was his home. It was hellhounds and halls of crystals glittering in the low lamplight. It was decadent food that demons didn't need but ate anyway. It was her naked in his bed, waiting for him to return from corrupting souls on Earth. It was sex all the time, whenever Bucky wanted. She was as insatiable as he was.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“It's been so long,” Bucky replied, pawing at her greedily. “I need ya right the fuck now. I'm starvin.'”

“Remember when we fucked in that church in Romania? Right under the statue of their precious Mary?” she asked.

“Hell, I’ve missed you."

As they kissed again, Bucky felt her heating up under his hands until tendrils of flame erupted from her skin. She pulled back, and Bucky saw her eyes alight with hellfire. He gathered her closer with a groan, knowing he would never get burned. She kissed him again, clawing at his hair as she swung herself into his lap. The confession booth swayed dangerously, but both ignored it. Bucky sunk his teeth in her bottom lip, and she snarled, scraping her nails over his scalp in retaliation. They pulled apart to blink at one another, then she dove to take off Bucky's shirt. Her fingers burned his skin so good, leaving red streaks that would fade quickly. Bucky could feel it crawling under his skin again, the hunger for sex that he hadn’t felt in ages. He wanted; he wanted to feed off of her pleasure and make her scream.

“I see those pretty black eyes,” she said, drawing Bucky’s gaze from her bare chest. “I knew they wouldn’t succeed.”

“Missed you,” Bucky growled, sucking her jaw so fiercely that he drew blood, “Take yer panties off for me.”

“Ask me nicely.”

She dug her nails into his pecs- a warning. Bucky rolled his eyes as he carried her out of the confessional and into a booth.

“Please take off yer panties. Sweetheart,” he said.

“Okay, darling, whatever you say," she replied.

“Disgusting. Don't ever call me that again. An' take your fuckin' panties off, huh?"

“You're such a dick."

"Hey, leave me alone! It's been two hundred years."

She shoved Bucky’s shoulder, trying to push him off of her enough so that she could wiggle out of her bottoms. Bucky ignored her unspoken command. He grabbed her wrists and slammed her arms over her head.

“Keep ‘em there," he said.

“How am I expected to take my underwear off? Think things through, will you?” she said.

“Yer bein’ unusually bratty today.” Bucky wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. “Ain’t had anyone put you in yer place for a while, I guess.”

“Oh, please. My father is one of the seven kings of Hell. If anything, you should submit to me. I remember how much you liked it when I made you beg at my feet like a hound."

“It's been decades since I’ve had ya underneath me. Now that I have ya, I ain’t just gonna give that up so willingly. Stop bein’ a brat."

“For Baal's sake, just do something instead of talking about it."

“No swearin’, we’re in church,” Bucky said. “An’ keep yer arms above yer head. No touchin.’”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“An’ shut that mouth a’ yours too. You don’t want me to gag ya, do you?”

"Who the fuck has been going around and telling lies saying I wouldn't like that?" she asked with a smile.

Bucky softened. He knew he was probably looking at her like a dumbass, but she was so beautiful and here for the first time in a long time. Bucky wouldn't want his first feeding session in centuries to be with anyone else. If a beast like him could love, he was sure he would love her.

"Missed you," Bucky said softly, tucking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and stuffing them in her mouth. "So much."

"Missed you too," she mumbled.

"Did you make 'em suffer?"

"You know I did. They hurt you."

She said everything he needed to know in just seven words. His hunger overwhelmed him, and Bucky blacked out until all he could see was her. Flames tickled him as Bucky leaned down to kiss a fiery trail down her stomach. She growled at him in an ancient tongue, and the foundations of the church shook at her words. The statue of Mary cracked in two the louder her words got, but Bucky ignored it, not content on just eating her out- he wanted her screaming. But she was a hard one to please. Bucky could rarely get her to scream when he ate her out, no matter the amount of coaxing he tried.

"Love the taste of you, but I need more," he said, his tongue flicking over her clit. "We still gotta topple that statue."

"Come up here and fuck me. It's been so long."

Bucky left the plush comfort of her thighs and made his way up her body, pressing kisses along the way.

"I know it has, babe," he said, kissing her forehead in a display of comfort that they were both unaccustomed to. "But I’m here now, an’ nothin’ can pull me away from ya again, you hear me?”

"I'll kill anyone who tries," she said.

Bucky grinned sharply. "That's my girl."

"Not yours," she countered.

"No?"

He reached down and drew her legs up around his waist. She locked her ankles together, holding him there so tight he could not move, not even to get inside her. He growled, trying to break free.

"I'm not yours," she repeated.

"If you fuckin' think for one second you ain't mine, you're wrong."

"I'm a fucking demon. No one owns me."

"Never said 'owns.' I said mine. Now, you gonna lemme fuck you or not?"

"No. How is it different?"

Bucky groaned, dropping his head onto her chest. He pressed a few kisses at her breast, bit her nipple.

"C'mon, gimme a break. I'm starvin.'"

"No, not until you tell me."

"Fuck's sake. You're mine, an' I'm yours, okay? An' I don't wanna feed on anyone else, ever again. You're enough for me."

"Okay."

"You don't have to reciprocate."

"I put a war on hold, and I killed three angels to find you," she said flatly.

"Yeah," Bucky said, his vessel's heart fluttering. "You did."

She loosened her grip on Bucky, allowing him to slip inside her for the first time. His body shuddered in delight at feeling her again. He could taste her pleasure in the air, and his tongue flicked out to gather it from her lips as they kissed. Bucky knew he wasn't going to last long, but he would be (more) damned if he finished before she did.

"Come on, move," she said, her nails pricking his back.

The pace Bucky chose was brutal, and she moaned, arching her back. He remembered now the way she’d never utter more than a moan. No matter the amount of coaxing, Bucky could never make her scream. She had passed out from him fucking and feeding on her a few times, but even then, all he managed to get were a few calls of his name. It kept him desperate to please her even though she was the one feeding him.

"Go faster," she sighed, her head tipped back enough so that Bucky could get at her neck with his teeth.

"I gotcha, babe. Wan' my hand?"

"Yes, please."

Naturally, Bucky obliged. He wrapped one of his big hands around her neck, squeezing gently and then harder. Her mouth fell open against his as he fucked her, and they stayed like that, panting into each other's mouths. And Bucky wanted so much for someone to burst in and see them like this, see him fucking her into the ground and feeding off her desire.

He pulled out of her when he got an idea. She speared him with a glare, but he calmed her down, urging her to get to her hands and knees. Bucky smacked her ass, and she muffled a cry into her forearms. The flames on her skin burned hotter and hotter the more Bucky spanked her until sweat was pouring down his chest. He gathered her hair up in his hand and dragged her up from the floor, curling a possessive hand around her throat. Flames licked his skin wherever her body was pressed to his. Bucky could feel it rising within her, and he gasped at the taste of it after so long without. It was the best drug in the world.

"C'mon, rub your clit for me, and scream when you come. You know it makes it taste better," he demanded.

"Make it worth my while, and I will."

"You wan' it? I'll give it to you," Bucky said, squeezing her neck until she was gasping. "Now, come for me. Gimme it."

It only took a couple more sweeps of her fingers over her clit and a quick kiss from Bucky for her to come. He kissed her to muffle her screams, drinking her down, thirsty for everything she could give him. He continued fucking her through her orgasm, his eager pants ringing around the church.

"Again, again, gimme one more. So hungry, babe, you taste so good," Bucky panted.

It didn't take long for her to come again, and Bucky fed on her, moaning as he felt her slipping down his throat. He licked his lips and pushed himself entirely inside her, holding still until she triggered his own orgasm.

"That's a good girl," Bucky cooed, kissing her to get the last of her orgasm.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, looking upside down at him.

He snuggled closer. "Yeah."

"Are you pulling out or what?"

"Nah, wanna stay here for a minute or two. Missed this. So happy y'found me. You saved me."

"I always will," she said, scowling.

Bucky laughed, burying his face into her hair.

"How's Hell, anyway?"

"It's good. Will you come back with me?"

"I'll go anywhere you want me to."

"We'll get those runes off your skin."

"'Kay, but later. I'm still ravenous," said Bucky.

She grinned, all sharp teeth and fire in her eyes.

"Come on, then. Let's go to a real bed."

"Lead the way," said Bucky, flipping the bird toward the Mary statue that lay shattered on the ground.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #demon au #incubus!bucky #demon!reader #smut #angst #maybe??#multi-stann’s 1k writing event

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yemilnisu · 3 years

Text

INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED

nisu entries:

i got this idea from @memekingofwwiii and some of it are theirs 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you for letting me add it here 😊 it’s a mixture from buzzfeed unsolved supernatural and true crime 👀 i really had fun doing this!

warning: swearing, mentions of death/murder/killing/blood/weed

「part 2」

Tendou: i did have a neighbor who had an overhang of a lime tree, and it was great because i could go pick a little lime.

Ushijima: did you ever think about killing your neighbor?

Tendou: when he didn't give me limes, yeah.

Ushijima: oh, okay; all right.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: this is my bridge now, if you want it back you’re gonna have to kill me.

Oikawa: he did throw someone off the bridge once.

Matsukawa: fuck you, goatman!

Oikawa: Jesus Christ.

Kunimi: *behind the camera snickering as mattsun taunts the goatman much to oikawa’s dismay*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: hey demons, it’s me, ya boi.

Matsukawa: if you want to eat my heart, turn that light on. If you want to eat oikawa’s heart, turn that light on...

Oikawa: don’t drag me into your shit, mattsun.

*torch turns on*

Oikawa: *screams*

Matsukawa: *laughs hysterically as he continues to lie on the pentagram*

Kunimi: *actual wheezing*

Matsukawa: i think this demon’s a wimp.

Oikawa: he’s out of his fucking mind.

Kunimi: *having the time of his life*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Oikawa: every human's capable of murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.

Iwaizumi: okay.

Oikawa: it's true!

Iwaizumi: is that so?

Oikawa: yeah.

Oikawa: i bet you you would murder me if I pushed you enough.

Iwaizumi: yeah, probably.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: …

Tsukishima: so, you're telling me, at nine years old, you don’t go to church. the first time you cross the threshold into holy ground,

Nishinoya: *makes noise and imitates blood coming out of his nose*

Tsukishima: blood expels from your nostrils?

Nishinoya: yeah, yeah. they ran outta tissues! mopping that up.

Tsukishima: …

Nishinoya: it was wild!

Tsukishima: it sounds wild.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: i think it was the neighbor. look, i’m a simple man. i see a trail of blood going to someone's house. even if they didn't do it, come on; you're going to jail.

Kenma: i think it might've been a random person.

Kuroo: all right.

Kenma: it just seems too obvious.

Kuroo: okay.

Kenma: there's a paper trail of their feud. why the hell would he be that dumb?

Kuroo: rage, you know? lust, rage. rage just- just building up, bursting out.

Kenma: well, i've never really gotten that angry. i don't really have that capacity.

Kuroo: it's building. it's building inside you. everyone sees it; we all see it.

Kenma: that's great. oh man, i can't wait for krakatoa then.

Kuroo: *shuddering* oh- oh- i shudder.

Kenma: hope no one's in the way 😺

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: scary.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Daichi: he allegedly chased his mother with an axe when he was 19.

Asahi: not great.

Daichi: (wheeze) no? not off- off to a bad start?

Asahi: no good. i’ve never done that. you didn’t do that did you?

Daichi: no! i didn't- what- is there anything to suggest that I would chase my mom with an axe?

Asahi: (inhales) not outright i feel like if you peel the layers back.

Daichi: you think if you peel the layers back from this onion, you'll see something you don’t want to see?

Asahi: yeah. i think you wear a mask sometimes 😅

Daichi: mm-hmm i think you should keep digging and maybe see what happens 🙂

Asahi: uh no i'm good 🧍🏻‍♂️

Daichi: *staring at asahi*

Asahi: 👁👄👁💧

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: my takeaway is people from chicago are weird.

Atsumu: the- this does not represent chicago. this is people and go "ey! chicago tylenol murders"

Osamu: (laugh) home with the beam, the cubs and the chicago tylenol murders and of course our nation's greatest tragedy, miya atsumu.

Atsumu: that- that's not me.

Osamu: i read it somewhere 🤷🏻

Atsumu: no, you didn’t, you probably wrote it.

Osamu: yeah.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suna: i’d love to be an heiress.

Kita: (snickers)

Suna: i know she’s probably gonna disappear or something.

Kita: so you wanna be a trust fund baby?

Suna: i’d like someone to give me a lot of money for doing nothing. but i want-

Kita: and then you wanna disappear?

Suna: yes. i want to get a lot of money and then vanish from the face of the earth.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Ennoshita: her family believed that when she left at 11:30 am, she had as much as $30 in her purse, which in today’s dollars would be more than $750.

Nishinoya: holy moly!

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche—

Nishinoya: yeah.

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche.

Nishinoya: thirty bucks going that far in 1910.

Tanaka: i don’t even have $750 in my bank account.

Nishinoya: i’ve never had $750 in my pocket! i rarely have had $30 in my pocket.

Ennoshita: well i don’t really carry cash anymore-

Nishinoya & Tanaka: who does!?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Yaku: stop number one, mothman statue.

Lev: it looks very ornate.

Yaku: *shocked that lev knows that word*

Yaku: you’ll be able to stare at it eye to eye.

Lev: what’s that supposed to mean?

Yaku: it means you’re eight feet tall, it’s a tall joke. get it?

Lev: 🧍🏼

Yaku: 🤦🏼‍♂️

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: any... any thought in that so far?

Bokuto: (fart sound) nope. what year is it, ‘66?

Akaashi: ‘66.

Bokuto: few teens out there probably smoking a few funny cigarettes.

Akaashi: you could say weed. it’s 2018.

Bokuto: ...some grass.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kageyama: so my guess is the couples were somewhere around here, maybe on that road over there.

Hinata: yeah.

Kageyama: and i'm not sure of the exact location but this is where they saw him stumbling around.

Hinata: they just… saw him kinda shambling?

Kageyama: yeah.

Hinata: big shambling man. kinda *shuffling his body*

Kageyama: i- i don’t know, maybe he was just taking a walk, i mean, what's it to you?

Hinata: why would you take a walk if you had wings?

Kageyama: he's a fucking creature, he can do what he wants.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: but all im saying is that what you need to gather from this is that he has an effect on people's psyche.

Lev: this mothman's a complicated character.

Kuroo: what does he sound like? what does he sound like?

Lev: he sound like the blood bird.

Kuroo: …

Lev: flappy spookster.

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: that's- come on.

Kuroo: *glances over to lev's notes*

Lev: the winged wretch. did i already say that?

Kuroo: this just says fright terror.

Kuroo: *throws away the notes*

Lev: you know, just call him batman, why is that hard? 😩

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(howling)

Goshiki: what the fuck.

Shirabu: well those are coyotes… or dogs. Or a large pack of something.

Goshiki: holy shit.

Shirabu: just some coyotes.

Goshiki: are you not fucking alarmed right now?

Shirabu: are you scared? (laugh)

Goshiki: dude wait- this goes beyond belief, that was a pack of, whatever the fuck that was.

Shirabu: it was coyotes!

Goshiki: is that our cue to leave? i think maybe. we've been out here for quite a bit.

Shirabu: yeah, i don’t know if were gonna find anything tonight.

Goshiki: i don’t wanna be in the mouth of some coyote later, that's not how i want the picture wrap on old tsutomu to be.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Atsumu: air force one? they filmed air force one here?

Atsumu: air force one actually, now that i think of it, remember the reason they hijacked the plane is to release for the-

Sakusa: i’m gonna go ahead and cut you off right there 'cause i don’t give a shit.

Sakusa: we’re gonna move over here.

Atsumu: …okay.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kai: four people in a cell, that's a lot

Kuroo: i mean, you put any normal people in a room that's too small. like if you’re in a dorm in college, if you hate your roommate…

Kai: it's tough business

Kuroo: listening to music too loud when i'm trying to study

Kai: hwfrrrrr…

Kuroo: cookin' uhh… top ramen in the microwave when i'm trying to sleep

Kai: you got some axes to grind?

Kuroo: no.

Kai: oh

Kuroo: fuck you, daishou.

Kai: daishou?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(distant thud)

Yamamoto: what the fuck?

Kenma: :3

Yamamoto: is all i have to say to that.

Kenma: they didn’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: you didn't like the thumb talk? was it too much thumb talk? i thought we went about two minutes long on the-

(distant thud)

Kenma: they don’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: *looking around in shock*

Kenma: *stopping himself from laughing*

Yamamoto: uhhhh… holy fuck. holy fuck, holy fuck. if you’re one of the people that had that thumb thing to happen to you, that sucks. what was it like?

Kenma: what do you think you're gonna get right now? 😑

Yamamoto: i feel like we should go see what that is, to be honest.

Kenma: *shakes his head*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: we’re walking over to the source of the disturbance.

Hinata: hello? (sigh) i’m gonna lose my mind. so, it did that twice within the span of 10 seconds but nothing else?

Tsukishima: but, we can confirm that it did sound like this right? *slams the cabinet door*

Hinata: yeah.

Tsukishima: that was the sound.

Hinata: do you think the wind’s gonna do that twice?

Tsukishima: *blows on the cabinet door*

Tsukishima: not moving 🙄

Hinata: well, shit.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sugawara: oh there it is. it’s that. *pointing to where the sound was coming from*

Asahi: what?

Sugawara: there’s a logical explanation for you.

Asahi: ah! okay, there it is. well, there you go, there you go.

Sugawara: but, if we hadn’t seen that...

Asahi: if we hadn’t seen that we would be fooled 😅

Sugawara: no, we wouldn’t have been fooled. you would have been telling me for months.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

*inside the prisoners of ohio state penitentiary*

Kageyama: this is fucking terrible.

Tsukishima: it’s the opportunity of a lifetime to be here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tendou: i’m separating from the group.

Semi: it’s the ideal time to kill him.

Tendou: yeah i mean, if i were gonna die in camera it would be a pretty noble thing.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: I don’t understand what’s wrong with atsumu sometimes.

Atsumu: what was that?

Osamu: i didn’t say anything.

Atsumu: you sure you didn’t say anything, ‘samu?

Osamu: now go back and set ‘em off to make sure they work.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: *inhales*

Atsumu: *inhales*

Sakusa: you need to back up from me. i can feel your air intake. it’s like a gross nasal jet, i don’t know.

Atsumu: *takes a step towards sakusa*

Sakusa: uh no *takes a step backwards*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Futakuchi: latch yourself onto my soul, come back to hollywood with me, and destroy the lives of all my friends and coworkers.

Koganegawa: a little hard to follow, but i like where you’re going.

Futakuchi: kogane’s family has a little-

Koganegawa: ey! ey! do-! do-! don’t!

Futakuchi: -dog named mickey.

Koganegawa:*trying to stop futakuchi*

Futakuchi: real good. you wanted me to give it my all. i’m throwing stuff on the table.

Koganegawa: insults, not personal information. you’re giving him a dossier on my life!

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hornime · 3 years

Text

twinkle tits | tanaka saeko x gn!reader

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

warnings: 18+, timeskip!saeko, kinda dom!saeko, titty sucking, mentions of unsafe driving

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: furudate told me that it’s canon that saeko has tit piercings in the timeskip.

you grumbled in annoyance as a red chrome motorcycle cut in front of you on the highway, forcing you to slam on the brakes and hold down your horn, probably for a bit longer than was necessary. as you both decelerated to stop at a red light, the rider, visage hidden by a mysterious black helmet with a tinted shield, turned back to look at you, making you seize up behind the steering wheel.

they seemed to think something over and rotated back to face forward on the seat, before raising their right hand and flipping you off.

are you serious? you thought. you’re the one who cut in front of me.

all you wanted was to give this person a piece of your mind, but you knew that 1) road rage just wasn’t worth it and 2) doing so would do nothing but make your commute unnecessarily complicated. it was one of those mondays, and the last thing you needed was to get pissed off before getting morning coffee in your system. all you wanted to do was forget about the incident and move on with your day.

unfortunately, the fates weren’t keen on making that happen.

to your frustration, the annoying bike, with, to your newfound knowledge, the even more annoying rider, turned into the lot of your office building, parking in front of a recently sold lot, which was conveniently located right next to your workplace. you debated for a second over where to park, for all you knew, this biker could be crazy or something, but you decided that, at this point, you really didn’t care.

you turned off your engine, gathered what you needed for the day, and stepped out of your car, intending to look straight ahead and get through the doors of your building with as little conflict as possible. thoughts bounced around in your head as the revving of the motorcycle a few spots away quieted: don’t engage, don’t engage, don’t enga—

“hey! you!” a voice called out. you cursed internally, before spinning your head towards the yell.

a woman with brown eyes that glinted dangerously and blonde hair that shone in the early sun was tapping her foot, the incessant click of her black stiletto on the concrete becoming more and more irritating. stiletto? you thought. how the hell was she wearing stilettos on a motorcycle?

your eyes couldn’t help but trail downwards towards her chest, her crossed arms accentuating her soft, leather-clad curves. as you were distracted by her body, she walked up to you, snapping a pair of red nails in your face and bringing back to reality.

“hey,” she insisted, a hint of amusement evident in her voice. “my eyes are up here.”

you looked up, embarrassed at being caught ogling her, and made eye contact. shit, you thought, losing yourself in her sharp features. she’s really hot. suddenly, you remembered what this crazy lady had put you through: and she almost made me crash. “hey,” you responded tersely. “who the hell taught you how to drive?”

you cringed at your bluntness, so much for avoiding conflict, while she raised an eyebrow in challenge, a spunky smile turning her lips up. “who taught me how to drive? what about you? you barely checked if anyone was gonna turn in.”

you chuckled in astonishment. there was no way this bitch was trying to flip this on you. “you’re kidding right? you drive like a literal madwoman.” you thought back, in hindsight, maybe you hadn’t looked to see if anyone was coming, but that wasn’t the point! isn’t it her job to be a defensive driver?

she threw her head back and laughed, a strangely charming sound for how loud and taunting it was. “yeah, i get that a lot. too fast, too reckless, and too cocky. i think it makes life more interesting.”

“well, i think it almost killed me.”

“lighten up,” she snarked, digging the tip of her pointer finger into your chest. “you look like someone that takes life too seriously. you gotta take a risk sometime!”

“a risk that might send me into my grave,” you deadpanned, “no thanks.”

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

you flinched at her change in tone. what?

“well,” she continued. “i gots’ta go. lots of lives to ruin! yours is just one of many.”

you called out as she swiveled to walk away. “wait!” she cocked her head towards you. “where d’you work?”

she gestured to the lot she’d parked in front of. “saeko’s cycles. i’m saeko and i sell cycles. motorcycles. ‘s a work in progress. you?”

you nodded at the building next to hers. “there.”

she approached you again, extending her fingers to dance on your shoulder, sending hot chills down your spine. “we’re work neighbors then.” she grinned devilishly. “guess i’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

you gulped. she really was hot.

“guess you will.”

you both went your separate ways.

for the next few days, the pattern repeated: saeko would cut you off, you’d honk, she’d flip you off, and you’d engage in some banter before heading off to work. you looked forward to interacting with the driving demon everyday; you thought about her throughout the day, on the way home, at night in your bed with nothing more than your imagination, your hand, and an incessant ache for sex... she was driving you crazy.

on saturday morning, you grumbled at the sound of your alarm: you had to drop off some paperwork at the office. reluctantly leaving your bed, you drove your way to the building. a scarlet flash caught your eye, and you were surprised to see saeko’s motorcycle parked in its usual spot. why’s she here? it’s saturday. after completing your task, you reached for the handle of your car door, then stopped. saeko’s probably working in her shop, you thought. it’d be nice to stop by.

you peered in the doorway, hearing the clattering of what you presumed to be tools coming from the back. “saeko?” you called, making your way through shelves of biking equipment and gear. “it’s me.”

the blonde poked her head out from the other side of a muddied motorcycle, hair pushed back with a headband. “hey!” she stood up, wiping her hands on a damp cloth, approaching you in a red-lined vest and a black headband. she looked dressed up, almost for a performance.

“what’s with the getup?”

“oh,” she said, looking down as if she’d just noticed what she was wearing. “taiko clothes.” at your confused expression, she clarified: “taiko’s a kind of japanese drumming. i’m captain of a local team. this,” she pointed at her vest, “is a happi. and this,” she tugged at the headband, “is a hachimaki. i just came back from rehearsal.”

you stood, speechless. she looked really good in those clothes, but you were sure that she’d look even better with them off.

she cleared her throat. “you have a nasty habit of zoning out on my tits. like what you see that much?”

your eyes shot back up to her, the heat of humiliation creeping up your neck. “um, uh. i-i...”

she chuckled at your shame. “no it’s okay, i like the attention.” her gaze turned predatory. “and i like you, too.”

within an instant, saeko was on you, your mouths melding together in a raunchy and needy kiss, tongues clashing passionately. lips locked within each other, she guided your movements, leading you to a small room at the back of the shop.

suddenly, she shoved you off of her, raising her leg so that the toe of her black stiletto teased lightly at your crotch. she gently increased the pressure, causing you to yelp in surprise—and an odd form of pleasure.

“why don’t you take a seat, babe?” the pet name made you shiver. saeko continued pushing you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the leather of a swivel chair, and you fell onto it.

eyes wide with lust and lips bruised with her animalistic desire, she thought you looked absolutely perfect, gazing up at her with a look of pure want. her eyes narrowed as she approached, towering over you. her hand grazed your throat before grabbing it. her hachimaki was hanging off the top of her head haphazardly, and she reached up and took it off, placing it on a neighboring table. she did the same with her happi, leaving you with an enticing view of her top half, clad in nothing but a lacy black bralette.

you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, fervently tracing her delicious breasts. the area over her nipple was covered in a mesh fabric, and you could see—was that silver?

your head jerked up in shock. “you have tit piercings?”

“hell yeah i do,” she teased, climbing onto your lap and spreading her lags on either side of your knees. in this position, her bust was at your face-level, the barbells sparkling hypnotically. “you like?”

you swallowed dryly, convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing: spurring on your already overwhelming desperation for her body. “...yeah,” you whispered breathlessly. “i like ‘em a lot.”

she crossed her arms and lifted the erotic undergarment over her head, bare flesh now tantalizingly close to your mouth. “give ‘em a taste then.”

she didn’t have to tell you twice. your lips swiftly latched onto her right nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, and you moaned at the metallic taste of the piercing. you raised your thumb to play with the other one, and she gasped at the contact.

“you—you’re really good at this,” she panted. “you look cute like this. all needy for my tits.”

you mewled at her praise, releasing her nipple with a pop! and moving your mouth to work the other one. “i like you, saeko,” you mumbled into her skin. “i don’t even mind that you’re a shitty driver.” you looked up at her, eyes blown wide with arousal. “you’re really cool.”

“yeah, yeah, i know,” she giggled. unexpectedly, she pushed her body off of you and landed on her feet.

“why?” you pouted, trying, and failing, to conceal your disappointment, mouth feeling empty.

“oh, stop whining,” she chided, pulling her clothes back on. she motioned to a nearby motorcycle helmet on the corner of her desk. “put that on.”

“wha-where are we going?”

she sighed, kneeling to scrub some dirt off her shoe. “i know i said i’d break you, but i didn’t realize you’d get this dumb just from some sucking. we’re going to my place.”

she turned to glance at you, ravenous gaze reflecting her intense desire. “and once we get there, we’re gonna have a lot more fun. if we survive the drive, of course.”

you let out a sigh of amused exasperation. she’s gonna kill me.

#feeling ultra super gay today #for one woman only #this one #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #hq saeko #saeko x you #saeko x reader #saeko tanaka #saeko x y/n #saeko

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

Photo

Words: 5,266 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. Also YA'LL. ARE. GONNA. LOVE. THIS. A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: After the visit from the Saviors at Hilltop, Daryl and Y/N finally head back to Alexandria, waiting on the edge of war.

Your name: submit What is this?

That night, after the Saviors left, was to be your last in Hilltop before you returned to Alexandria to officialyl kick the hornet nest. You had said something about going to talk to Maggie but after a while you still hadn’t returned and Daryl went to see if there was anything he could help with. He knocked on the door of Jesus’ trailer and Enid pulled open the door. Everyone was there, except for you.

“Hey. Y/N ain’t here?” he drawled. Maggie noticed how his brow drew down low over his eyes, a clear expression of worry.

“She was but she left a while ago,” Jesus said, climbing to his feet. “I assumed she was headed your way.”

“Nah. She ain’t been back.” His stomach twisted a little with anxiety. “Alright… Thanks,” he said, turning to leave.

“Daryl, wait!” Maggie called after him. She got up from her seat at the table and walked over. “You’re leavin’ early in the mornin’, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Headin’ back.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright. Then let us say goodbye to ya now in case we don’t see ya.” She grabbed Daryl into a tight hug before he could protest. He was stiff at first but he soon pressed a hand to her back and returned it. “You be safe. And we’ll see ya soon.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. Sasha grabbed him briefly into a hug. Enid waved from her place on the couch and Jesus strode forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for all your help here,” he said. “It really means a lot.”

Daryl nodded again. “Mhm. We’ll be rid of ‘em for good soon. See ya’ll.” The archer’s broad frame disappeared back outside. He stopped for a minute and scanned the open space for your familiar frame, but he couldn’t see you anywhere. The first places he checked were all the guard posts along the wall but there was no sign of you. He tried Abraham and Glenn’s graves next, but no luck. Then his eyes fell on the stable and he knew you sometimes went there in an attempt to quiet your mind, and after that interaction with Negan today, the things he had said loud enough for everyone to hear, Daryl suspected that your mind needed a little quieting.

His guess was right.

You came into view, leaning up against one of the stall doors, petting a mare who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. There was only the glow of a few lanterns to light the space and your expression was cast in shadow when he came in, the soft hay making his steps nearly silent.

“Hey,” he said, drawing your eyes. “Been lookin’ for ya.”

“Sorry,” you said softly.

“Nah, it’s not¬—nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said, crossing the space to you. You didn’t have a smile for him this time and his concern grew. “Ya alright? Today was…” he broke off, not even sure what word to use.

You were usually quick to reassure him that you were fine, but this time you didn’t. You just stared ahead and absently smoothed your hand down the horse’s neck, trying to gather your courage to speak.

Daryl stepped closer to you until he was leaned up right beside you against the stall door. “Hey. C’mon. Talk to me. What is it?”

He watched you gulp and shut your eyes for a moment, gathering yourself. You shook your head a little and let out a shaky exhale before you glanced over at him. “Negan. What he—he said—and… everyone… the rest of the day today, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. And you know that feeling you get when you enter a room and people were just talking about you? It felt like that in all of Hilltop today.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears burning in your eyes from spilling out. “Everybody here must just think I—”

“Hey, c’mon. Stop that. Nobody thinks anything about it,” he said trying to reassure you. But you turned your eyes down toward your hands.

“The way some of them were looking at me? Yeah. They do, Daryl… Now all of Hilltop knows that I—that I slept with Negan. With him.” It was hard even to get the words out. “And I can’t even really blame them. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I never should have allowed—” you said quietly, breaking off and shuffling your feet back and forth anxiously in the soft bedding on the barn floor. You could no longer stop any of the tears from spilling out and Daryl saw them cascade down your cheeks as you finally looked back up at him and met his blue eyes. “I can’t even blame them for what they probably think of me. What you must think of me…” You hastily wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks. “Hell, a lot of the time—” you shook your head, staring down at your hands again, “I think the worst of it myself…”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. His gaze was intense. He hated that you had been put in that situation. He hated that circumstances had ever collided in just such a way as to put you in a place where your only option was to submit to Negan, to allow him to lay a finger on you. And then you’d gone back. For him. “Ya want to know what I think? Ya were victimized by him. But ya ain’t a victim. You’re a survivor. That’s all ya did. Ya survived. And ya saved my ass! Ya didn’t have a choice. And any of them who are too stupid to figure that out ain’t worth it. They don’t know a damn thing about it. All the rest of us, Maggie, Jesus, Rick, Aaron & Eric, we know. We know. I’m proud to even know ya. And I consider myself lucky that ya’ve chosen me as bein’—as bein’ someone worth yer time.” He watched you wipe another tear off your cheek, your eyes wide and glassy as you looked back at him. He tilted his head gently at you. “C’mere.” His expression was soft and one you never could refuse.

It was all you needed. You fell into him and his strong arms wrapped around you tightly and pressed you into him, like he needed you there against his chest. Daryl breathed in the scent of your hair and settled you against him, smoothing his hands over your back lightly. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and focused on that feeling of safety. “S’alright. I ain’t ever thought less of ya because of what happened to ya. It ain’t your fault. Wasn’t a choice. And if anybody so much as looks at ya sideways, ya just come tell me and I’ll knock them on their ass, alright?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You pressed your hand flat against his chest, loving how you could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers and the expansion of his lungs as he breathed. You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his handsome face. He looked worried still, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. But, finally, you gave him a smile, albeit still a little teary, and he relaxed some. His fingers smoothed through your hair and you sighed, feeling a return of the warmth he always gave you. It grew and spread outward in your chest, spilling into your face, and you arched up onto your toes and kissed him.

You were setting your heels back down when his arm snaked around your lower back and pulled your hips into his. You looked up and met his eyes again and he nudged his nose up once. Daryl’s request for another kiss. You gladly acquiesced and this time you both sank into it, breathing each other in. Daryl’s hand clasped your face and his thumb traced the edge of your jaw gently as your lips moved in sync with his, effortless. The sensation of your hands light on his sides was enough to send him reeling with electricity.

“Thanks,” you said softly, after you finally broke apart. Daryl’s hands were landed on your hips and he gave you a questioning look. “Just—for what you said.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me. S’just the truth,” he said. He gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “C’mon. S’late and we gotta get up early to head home. Let’s get some sleep.” He nudged his head in the direction of the door and you nodded.

You smiled as he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you back to the trailer.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl’s bike rumbled down the road and he pulled it into the garage at Aaron and Eric’s which was standing open. You were still climbing off when the door into the house burst open and Aaron and Eric both came bounding down the stairs.

Aaron reached you first and barreled into you, drawing a laugh from you as you stumbled backward a little before regaining your balance. Daryl watched the interaction with one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Aaron said, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

You patted his back. “You too,” you said fondly, smiling widely.

“Alright, quit hogging her!” Eric said, shaking his head. Aaron pulled back and gave you a warm smile before stepping aside to let Eric wrap his arms around you. “We’ve missed you,” he said.

“Missed you guys, too,” you replied, shutting your eyes and giving Eric a final squeeze.

“How’s Hilltop?” Aaron asked as you finally withdrew, glancing between you and Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. “Ready as they’ll ever be. Maggie’s got it,” he nodded. “How’re things here?”

“Ready,” Aaron said. “For the most part. We’re expecting The Saviors today thanks to your intel.”

You felt your stomach twist and you nodded. “Yeah… Hard to believe we’re really about to do this.”

“It’s time,” Eric said, looking suddenly sad. “You heard about Olivia and—and Spencer?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We heard,” you trailed off. “Olivia was sweet. That shouldn’t have happened to her, of all people. But Spencer? What the hell was he thinking?” you asked, shaking your head sadly. “He put himself right in the line of fire… he was naïve, but nobody deserves what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t handle Rick being in charge after his Mom,” Aaron said. “Thought he could do better.”

“Only someone who was completely clueless about what that means would say that,” Daryl drawled. “Ain’t an easy job, what Rick’s doin’. And he feels responsible for every damn thing that happens to everybody.”

You sighed. “That’s a lot of weight to carry around…”

“Speakin’ of,” Daryl said, glancing back over at you. “I wanna go see everybody. Check in with Rick.”

You nodded. “Go. I’m gonna catch up with these two for a bit.”

“They’re gonna wanna see ya, too,” Daryl said.

You felt your cheeks flush a little, nerves still at the idea of being brought so fully in as part of Daryl’s ‘family’. “Alright. I’ll meet you there in a little while,” you said with a nod. “Promise.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Alright. See ya soon, then. Aaron. Eric,” he said, nodding at each of them. Daryl disappeared out into the bright morning sun.

Considering what he knew was coming, Alexandria seemed quiet.

But when he pulled open the front door of the house his group shared and paced into the kitchen, he was surrounded by his chosen family. Rick placed Judith in his arms and smiled as Daryl cooed at the little girl. “It’s good to have you back,” Rick said, clasping Daryl’s shoulder when he could.

Daryl nodded. “Yah. Good to be back.” He bounced Judith a couple more times and then glanced at Carl. “Hey. Take her for a minute, would ya? I gotta talk to your dad.”

Carl accepted his baby sister and Daryl straightened Rick’s old hat on the teenager’s head, eliciting a smile.

Once Carl was out of ear shot, Daryl leaned onto the counter with his forearms and sighed heavily. “We really doin’ this?” he drawled. “Ready?”

Rick nodded. “We’re doing it. And we’re ready. Everything is set.”

“And Negan?”

Rick scowled. “I’ll take care of him when the time is right.”

Daryl stared down at the pattern of countertop for a moment. “What if I get the chance first? Or Y/N? We ain’t supposed to take it?” he asked. “If anyone deserves to put that bastard in the ground it’s her. I can’t tell her not to.”

The muscle in Rick’s jaw twitched. “Yeah… I know. But—for now? We need to knock down what he’s built first. Can’t just be him.”

“I know. But if we get a shot at him… Rick, I want him dead,” Daryl growled. “For what he did to Glenn and Abraham. For what he did to all of us. For Hilltop, for the Kingdom… but most of all for her.” The archer straightened up. “If we get the chance, no hesitation. He’s dead.”

Rick eventually nodded, a tentative agreement. He wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger on Negan, but how could he argue for you or Daryl to not get the job done if the opportunity presented itself. “Where is Y/N?” Rick asked.

“Catchin’ up with Aaron and Eric. She said she’d come by in a bit.”

“Good. That’s good…” There was the weight of many cares on his shoulders. “When they get here, I don’t want either of you two anywhere they might be able to see you,” Rick said.

“Why? They saw us yesterday at Hilltop. They already know we’re part of this.”

“I know. I just don’t want to give them an opportunity to take a shot at either of you,” he replied. “And after yesterday, at Hilltop, with what they now know? They might.”

Daryl sighed and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Ya, about that… Negan said somethin’ yesterday. He wants Y/N alive.”

Rick stared at his friend, his brow furrowing more deeply. “Alive?”

Daryl nodded, pacing a little restlessly. “That’s what he said to his douchebag lieutenant Simon. It seemed genuine. He wants her prisoner, and I don’t think he’d kill her after he got his hands on her.” Daryl’s face darkened with rage just at the thought. “So, that means that wherever we think Negan is gonna be, Y/N needs to not be…”

Rick considered the grave expression on Daryl’s face. “Will she agree to that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. But she’s gonna have to. I ain’t puttin’ her somewhere he might be able to get his hands on her again.”

“Not sure any of us can boss Y/N around,” Rick said, a small smile curving his lips despite the grim topic.

Daryl let out an amused exhale in place of a laugh. “Ya… tell me about it.”

As if on cue, Daryl and Rick heard the front door open and soft footsteps up the hall and into the kitchen. You had a small smile for Rick and the others who were gathered in the living room. Rick returned it as you came to stand beside Daryl. “Good to see you,” Rick said. “We sorely missed having both of you around. And not just because you two can get supply runs done in record time.”

You laughed a little lightly, exchanging a look with Daryl, and nodded. “We missed being home too.”

“Listen, I was just telling Daryl—” Rick hesitated. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near the gate when they show up. I don’t want him knowing you’re here.”

You straightened up and looked at Daryl briefly. His blue eyes met yours and he nodded once to show he was onboard. “Alright,” you said, turning back to look at Rick. “We’ll hang back.” Inside, you were hoping that if Negan didn’t see you there wouldn’t be a repeat of what he had divulged loudly for everyone at Hilltop the previous day. You sighed and looked at Rick. “Once you do this today, there’s no going back. And people are going to die. Our people.”

Rick’s expression was grave, but he nodded. “I know. But if we leave it be, more people will die anyway. At his hands.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “I just want to make sure you really understand what we’re all getting into. Negan, he’s—” You broke off, unable to continue and sighed.

“I know,” Rick said forcefully. “We’ve all seen it with our own eyes.” You weren’t looking up at him. “Hey—” he said, forcing your eyes back to his. “Whatever happens isn’t gonna be on you. You told us all you had to tell. You stopped us from rushing in unprepared. And you didn’t even have to do any of that. We owe you. More than I can say. And I—” Rick pressed his hand over the center of his chest, “I’m so grateful.”

At length, you nodded. “We’ll get it done. We will. I know it.”

Daryl was looking at you in awe of your strength and he watched with a swell of happiness as Rosita grinned at you and waved from her place in the other room and you went striding over to greet her.

“Daryl.” Rick’s voice drew his eyes again. “Whatever happens… we’re fighting the good fight.” And it was then that Daryl suddenly realized that Rick was worried that perhaps you might not make it through this. And he was worried about what that would mean for the archer. It was war. Anything could happen.

Daryl straightened up to his full height and chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “Ain’t gotta worry. Y/N and I are both making it through this. Rick, she’s—” he paused and glanced back over at you, feeling himself soften as he watched you laugh at something Rosita had said, tossing your head back, your eyes crinkled closed. “She’s stronger than me. And she makes me strong. We’re gonna be just fine.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was surprised when he woke the next morning and realized you weren’t beside him. He shot straight up in bed, his heart pounding, and that’s when he realized that he could hear the shower running and the gentle sound of you humming to yourself over the pattering of the water. He flopped back down onto the pillow and reached over to your side, wanting to see if the warmth of you was still there.

Your side of the bed was cool but Daryl could still see the shape of your body in the sheets and the impression of your head on the pillow. He heard the shower turn off in the bathroom and the sound of you opening the door and stepping out. The archer climbed out of bed and made his way over to the doorway. He leaned against the door frame, taking in the shape of your figure wrapped in a towel, a comb in your hands as you ran it through your wet hair. You finally caught sight of him in the mirror and you gave him that megawatt smile that always sent electricity jumping up his spine and his heart skipping a beat.

“Hey. Morning,” you said, turning to look at him leaning up against the doorframe.

“Ya left me alone in bed?” he drawled. “Real nice…”

A small smile still curved you lips. “I’m sorry. You were really deeply asleep still. Must have needed it. I couldn’t sleep anymore and I just really wanted a hot shower.”

Daryl left his place leaning against the doorway and walked over to you in front of the mirror. His hands landed on your hips and you felt a flush of heat in your chest and face at the contact.

“Yah. Ya didn’t invite me to that either,” he joked quietly.

One of your eyebrows quirked down low over your eyes and you gave him a look, obviously trying to read what was on his mind. “Should I have?” you asked, turning around again to glance in the mirror. Daryl’s hands stayed on your hips and you soon felt his body pressing up against yours.

“Always,” he said, his voice deep and a little gruff with sleep still. He bent and kissed the bare skin on the side of your neck. The stubble on his face was exhilarating and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin immediately. He next pressed his lips to the skin on your shoulder. He thought you smelled of lavender and vanilla. His fingers gave your hips a gentle squeeze.

You bit your bottom lip. “Daryl Dixon…” you said softly. Your tone was smoky, silky, and it drew his eyes to yours in the mirror. “What are you doing?” you asked him playfully.

One corner of his mouth twitched up but then his expression was almost serious. He gently gathered the wet strands of your hair, his fingertips sweeping your neck softly, sending another electric jolt through you. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and pulled you back against him more tightly.

You felt your lips part slightly of their own accord and your eyes closed. You let out a small exhale and Daryl straightened up again, taking in your expression in the mirror and feeling a flame of heat growing in his chest. After a moment your eyes opened again and met his once more. “Do you know what you’re doing?” you asked quietly. Your breath and heart were increasing in pace and the tingles running through you were becoming impossible to ignore.

Daryl ducked his head a little bashfully for a moment, but only for a moment. When he caught your eyes again, he tilted his head back toward the doorway into the bedroom.

Now your heart was absolutely pounding. You broke from your gaze in the mirror and spun to face him, your brilliantly colored eyes searching his face. You peered up at him and once again Daryl was taken aback by the vulnerability he saw in your eyes. All he wanted in that moment was to wrap you up and make you truly his, show you exactly how goddamn head over heels he was for you. “Are you sure?” you said, and then you hesitated. “I mean, am I—am I reading this right?”

One of Daryl’s hands lifted from your hip and clasped your face gently. And he swept you in against him, his other hand on the small of your back, kissing you deeply and insistently. You felt your knees start to go weak but there was no chance of falling with Daryl’s arm around you, pressing your hips into his. His tongue flicked over your bottom lip and you granted him entrance, letting out a small noise of pleasure as he deepened the kiss even more.

You suddenly pulled back, your hand landing flush against his strong chest. “Wait. Wait…” you breathed, looking up into his handsome face, his blue eyes connected with yours. “Are you—is this—”

Daryl studied your expression and smiled at your hesitation as he realized you were worrying about him. He clasped your face again in both of his hands delicately, his eyes flickering between both of yours. “I’ve wanted this with ya for a long time. I just—I needed there to be other things first… I didn’t want to—to risk ruinin’ this because I rushed anythin’.”

You nodded though there was some mixture of confusion and disbelief on your face. You gently rested your hands on his sides. The lightness, the delicate quality of your touch drove him crazy…

“Hey, I—” he paused for a moment and licked his lips anxiously, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N, ‘M in love with you.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Daryl’s heart was pounding as he waited for your response.

The confusion and disbelief in your eyes was suddenly replaced with a wild happiness that grew, like your smile, by the moment. He felt your fingers curl more tightly into his shirt. “I love you, too,” you said. You let out a joyful laugh as you looked up at him and then immediately arched up onto your toes, crashing your lips into his again.

Daryl kissed you back eagerly, feverishly, but he pulled back suddenly leaving you wanting more. He stared down at you and you gave him a questioning look again, but were unable to stop smiling. “Can you, uhh—could ya just say that again?” he asked, a little self-consciously.

You grinned at him and looped your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes. “Daryl Dixon. I’m so in love with you.”

His heart leapt to hear those words leave your lips and he crashed into you again, his arms pulling you into him and lifting you off your feet. When he set you back down, your lips didn’t separate and you pressed your hands into his strong chest, pushing him backwards into the bedroom again. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth, dragging them lightly over it, and smiled into the kiss as the action elicited a chesty growl from him. His fingers dug more deeply into your hips.

He broke from you for a brief moment and looked into your face. His eyes were intense, wanting. “Are ya ready for this? This okay? We don’t have to—”

You grinned at his sweetness and captured him in another fiery kiss briefly before pulling back again. “Get your damn clothes off right now,” you said breathily, grinning at him. “How is this fair? I’m already in just a towel.”

His pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth briefly and shook his head at you like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You grinned and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. Your eyes wandered over his strong shoulders and bare chest down to the V of his hips, hitching again on the scars crisscrossing his skin.

Your hands went to him immediately and you leaned into him. He gulped a little nervously, staring down at the unmistakable desire in your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him and arched up onto your toes again, your lips meeting his hungrily, and Daryl happily sank into it. Suddenly he felt your fingernails raking gently down his back and he almost shivered at the sensation. He felt the overwhelming warmth in his chest blooming outward, causing his head to go vaguely fuzzy.

Before he could even think about doing it himself, he felt the towel wrapped around you fall to the floor and suddenly his fingers were wandering over the bare shape of you, unimpeded by distracting or cumbersome fabric.

He smoothed his hands from the flared curve of your hips up the narrowing of your waist and onto the angles of your ribs. His fingers reached around your frame and felt the sharpness of your shoulder blades. You felt small beneath his hands, delicate, despite the fact that he knew you were no wilted daylily. His lips wandered from yours to leave a trail along your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. You heaved in a small breath at the sensation. Your fingers found his waistband and soon both of you were only skin, completely reeling with the sensations of one another.

A moment later you let out a surprised gasp as Daryl picked you up as if you weighed nothing and laid you down in the bed beneath him. He leaned over you, propped up on one elbow, moving aside a strand of your hair with the other hand. You stared up at him wantingly, your lips parted and waiting again for his. His hands, a little rough but so gentle, clasped your face as he kissed you before tracing the line of your collarbone and wandering down to explore all your curves and angles. You pulled his lips back to yours and tangled your legs with his, gasping in pleasure as the two of you became one and moved in sync together effortlessly.

Daryl was sweet and gentle but needy and fiery all at once and you were both just bounding hearts and sensations, curling toes and waves of rising pleasure. He kept one hand laced with yours and couldn’t take his eyes off you beneath him as you moved together unless it was to press kisses to every part of you. You relished the feeling of his strong muscles moving beneath your fingers, and when you both finally reached the peak his lips on yours were insistent before they softened. He drew back to watch the expression on your face as the two of you came down from your high, rushing breaths and a heartbeat that was loud in your ears.

Daryl settled down beside you, his chest heaving and an arm draped over you which you rested your hand on.

“Oh my God,” you gasped breathily, glancing over at him with a starry smile on your face. You turned onto your side so you were facing him, knowing your face and cheeks were flushed. Your fingers traced over the scars on his chest and despite the afterglow you were basking in you felt a twinge of anger and sadness at what he had gone through.

“Yah,” he agreed, a smile curving his lips. “I can’t even tell ya how long I’ve wanted that.” You thought you saw a blush in his cheeks too. His hands smoothed up and down your side from your shoulder to your hip, memorizing the feeling of you.

You sighed contentedly. “Same.”

Daryl nudged his nose up at you and you gladly acquiesced and pressed your lips to his softly, clasping his face and running your thumb along the line of his strong jaw. You watched his blue eyes open and you drank in the softness in them. His hand came to rest on your hip and his thumb drew absent strokes on your soft skin. You pressed a hand flat to his chest so you could feel the racing of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

“Wish we could stay here like this forever,” you said softly.

“Mhm. Me too. We can for a while though at least,” he drawled, moving closer to you again so he could feel your weight and your warmth. You draped your arm over him, the tips of your fingers brushing his back. Daryl watched you fondly as you settled in against him and closed your eyes.

At that moment, it was hard to believe anything could ever break the sense of fulfillment and peace both of you had.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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5uptic · 3 years

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hey fanfic spotlight again:)

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Summary: “I miss you,” Steve mumbles through the phone, and his voice has that soft, honest tone that it always does when he’s like this. 5up’s heart clenches. It’s these moments that keep him from leaving like he should’ve done four months ago, these soft-spoken truths that time and time again have him believing that maybe, maybe this time will be different. It never is. or 5up receives a phone call and ponders his life.

jealousy, jealousy by planetwitch (5up/Fundy, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy are best friends and have never crossed that line into something more. Until Fundy gets jealous at 5up's constant admiration for a certain 6 foot tall musician.

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Summary: a drabble for the word of the day, every day, for 100 days.

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Summary: Hafu neither confirmed nor denied, instead snatching the half unraveled ball of yarn out of his hands forcefully, a cheshire grin finding its way onto her face. Before 5up could clearly decipher the situation, she flung it at him, smacking him directly in the center of his face. or 5up loves throwing yarn at walls, and everyone else quickly picks it up from him. But in different ways.

Inside My Mind by SilverSprinklez10 (5up/Apollo, Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: Soulmates are usually a blessing. But sometimes, a soulmate connection can feel like a curse.

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Summary: "Sleepy found the ring by luck, something that matches his lover's graceful beauty that he could still afford. Twisted strands of thin silver with a little shimmering opal in the center, it was perfect." Aka: Sleepy's love for Five brought him heartache. If they try, there's still a chance the two could be happy.

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Summary: Steve might be drunk out of his mind, but David's just really hot, okay? [or, steve propositions david, kind of. hafu and dumbdog bear witness to his lapse in judgement.]

mi casa es su casa by some_spooky_shit_right_there (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.9k words)

Summary: Apollo's soulmate is cautious. Except, apparently, when it comes to coffee. Because, for the fifth time this week, Apollo wakes up to a burnt tongue. It's annoying. He can't really be mad though, because he has given his soulmate so much worse. The occasional burnt tongue is a meager act of penance, comparatively.

I love you too (I love you too) by some_spooky_shit_right_there (5up/Apollo/Steve, general rating, multi | 3.9k words)

Summary: Apollo comes into 5up's coffee shop. He always gets a cup of coffee and either a bagel or a croissant. He always seems tired, and he never comes in on weekends. Steve would really love to find out just who, exactly, he is.

i'm more fool than wise by 5fu (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 5.8k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steven Suptic is a brilliant crewmate - ask anyone. Okay so don't ask Janet. Or Dk. Or Koji. You know what, don't even ask - it's pretty obvious he is. But when new recruit and stunningly intelligent 5up boards the Crewfu, Steve isn't so sure he can compete. Not that he cares. Totally. Absolutely. On their mission to gather intel on Polus and find out what happened to the previous crew that disappeared from the planet three years earlier, Steve may realize that maybe he was indeed more fool than wise - and maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

i was praying that you and me might end up together by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.8k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Four years at Polus University. Four first weeks of school. Two strangers become two friends, and maybe even something more. Apollo hates being seen, hates having attention drawn to him, hates living in a world that feels like a game where everyone knows the rules except him. Steve thrives on attention, purposefully draws the gaze of everyone in the room, making his own rules as he floats through life. They're a match made in hell, but Apollo finds that when Steve looks at him, gives him nothing but attention, he doesn't mind being seen after all.

Long Journey Home by some_spooky_shit_right_there (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 9.6k words)

Summary: Homesick and lonesome and I'm feeling kind of blue Feeling kind of blue, boys, feeling kind of blue Homesick and lonesome and I'm feeling kind of blue I'm on my long journey home

there’s so many ways to say “i love you” and i wouldn’t wanna waste ‘em (on someone who, don’t feel it too) by Dear_MaedaysUnwelcomedGhost (5up/Steve, 5up/Hafu, 5up/Ellum, 5up/Kimi, teen rating, multi | 13k words, chaptered)

Summary: Love was a strange thing, 5up found. It was everywhere. And not in the way it may seem. It wasn’t in the adverts of perfect couples with artificial lighting. It wasn’t in the glittery cards made by factories or the flowers sold at grocery stores. Not in the TV shows made to bring in cash and be thrown out, with couples who don’t have anything to hold onto but brief infatuation and physical attraction. But in the friendly smiles of strangers as they pass by. In a mother cutting fruit up for their child. Running a hand through the hair of your partner, as their eyes flutter close and to sleep. Helping a stranger pick up their dropped papers, asking for nothing in return. In the graffiti on the wall by the alleyway you walk by everyday to get to work. To the goods baked by small independent bakeries. Flowers planted in parks to make it just a little nicer, or the ones growing out of pavement cracks with determination.

Also!

GuardianPuppy‘s this city needs to be destroyed or at least painted in a different color collection.

spaded_ace’s Casino in the Sky collection.

5fu’s among all this pain collection.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

#crewfu #fanfic spotlight #long post #finally a steve/dogfu fic.... come kiss me author

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bechloeislegit · 3 years

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My Spy - Chapter 9

A/N: I know, I know. I was supposed to post an update yesterday and I was going to. But, I didn't like the way one part turned out so I had to take a step back and do some editing. I like this version better and I hope you do, too.

The next morning, Beca sat at her little dining room table drinking a cup of coffee. She held a conversation with herself as she thought about the events from the night before.

"She looked and felt so good," Beca thought as she sipped her coffee. "Even a scar on her cheek couldn't take away from how beautiful she is."

Beca's coffee cup hit the table with a thud as she suddenly sat up straight, her eyes wide.

"Scar? How the Hell did she get the scar?" Beca's shoulders drooped as she slumped back in her chair. "There is so much I need to learn about her. Oh, God, why didn't I stay and hear her out? I may have blown my last chance with her, and for what?" Beca stood from the table, mumbling, "I need to find out where Chloe is staying and go talk to her."

Beca sighed as she moved away from the table, leaving a half-full cup of coffee behind. She picked up her phone and pulled up Chloe's number, hitting the call button before she could change her mind.

Beca put on her shoes and grabbed her wallet and keys, putting them in the pocket of her hoodie.

The phone rang once and then went straight to voicemail. Beca left Chloe a message, apologizing for walking out and asking her to call back.

Since Chloe didn't answer, Beca couldn't find out where Chloe was staying. So, instead of rushing out to see Chloe, she threw herself onto the sofa bed to wait and see if Chloe would call her back.

Unbeknownst to Beca, Jason and the Director had started a barrage of calls and texts on Chloe's work cell, and when those went unanswered they started calling her personal phone. Becoming tired of seeing their names on her caller ID Chloe turned off both, so Beca's message sat unheard amidst a sea of unanswered calls and texts.

~~ My Spy ~~

Chloe gave up trying to sleep and sat up. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around for her phone. She saw the two phones on the desk across the room, remembering now why she had them so far away.

Chloe pulled back the blankets and slipped out of bed. She went to the desk and picked up her phones, holding them while deciding if she wanted to turn them on or just leave them.

"Maybe Beca tried to call," Chloe mumbled, as she turned on her personal cell.

The phone immediately started buzzing and pinging with text, missed calls, and voicemail notifications. Chloe sighed and put her phone down, thinking she'd come back to check everything after she finished packing.

Chloe had just finished gathering everything from the bathroom when there was a knock on her hotel door. She glanced at the door briefly before throwing her toiletries into her suitcase. Another small knock sounded.

"Hold on," Chloe called out. "I'm coming."

Chloe closed and zipped her suitcase. She then grabbed it up and took it over to the door. She reached for the door handle as she set her suitcase down. She opened the door and frowned.

"What are you doing here, Uncle Matt?" Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know you don't want to see me," Matt said, causing Chloe to scoff. "This isn't about you or me. It's about your Aunt Peggy."

"Aunt Peggy?" Chloe asked, dropping her arms and furrowing her brow. "What about her?"

"She's in the hospital," Matt said.

Chloe gasped.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

"They think it was a heart attack," Matt said, still standing in the doorway. "A nurse from the hospital called and said a neighbor found her lying next to her car earlier this morning. They were running tests and they think she may need to have surgery."

"Oh, my God," Chloe said, frozen in place as she stared at her Uncle Matt.

"Come on," Matt said, taking Chloe's arm. "The jet is waiting to take us home."

"Us? You want me to fly home with you?"

"Of course, I do," Matt said, looking at Chloe. "Peggy would kill me if I didn't bring you home, too."

"I need to get my bags," Chloe said.

Matt stepped into the room as Chloe grabbed both her phones, shoving them into her purse. She then reached for her larger suitcase only to have Matt take it. Chloe gave Matt a small smile and picked up her smaller bag.

"Is this everything?" Matt asked.

"Yes," Chloe said.

Matt turned and started for the door, with Chloe close behind.

The tears Chloe had been trying to hold back ran down her cheeks as they entered the elevator. Matt pulled Chloe to him and rubbed her back.

"She's going to be okay," Matt whispered as he held Chloe until they reached the lobby. "She's a tough old broad."

Chloe sniffled as she held onto her Uncle Matt. She stepped away from him as the doors opened to the lobby. She was surprised to see Jason standing there, waiting for them.

"There's a car waiting to take you to the airport," Jason said, as he grabbed Chloe's suitcases. "Your bags are in the car, Director. The jet will leave as soon as you two are on board."

Matt nodded and put his hand on Chloe's back, guiding her off the elevator.

"Thank you, Jason," Chloe said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Jason gave her a small smile and nodded before turning to lead them outside to the car.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca was still sitting on the sofa, looking at her phone when Amy came through the door.

"Have you heard anything from Chloe?" were the first words out of Amy's mouth.

"Nothing yet," Beca said, still looking at her phone.

"Um, so, I've been thinking," Amy said hesitantly.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked, having never heard Amy hesitate to ask anything. Ever.

"I'm okay," Amy said. "I was thinking about what you said about the FBI wanting to talk to me about my dad."

"Yeah?" Beca said, looking over at Amy. "What about it?"

"How would that work?" Amy asked.

"I, uh, I don't know," Beca said. "I guess they ask you to go in and then they ask you questions."

"Will I be under arrest?"

"No!" Beca was quick to respond. "At least I don't think so. They'll invite you in for a conversation. You can either accept or decline. It's totally up to you."

"Can I just go in on my own and ask to speak with the agent investigating him?"

"Probably," Beca said. "Are you thinking of going in and answering their questions?"

"I think that's the smart thing to do," Amy said. "Would you go in with me? For moral support or whatever?"

"Sure," Beca said. "When you go in, I think you should ask for Chloe or her partner Jason. Um, I think his last name is Parker. He's the guy who tried to ask me questions when I was supposed to be on that date with Chloe."

"I'm really sorry about how that turned out," Amy said.

"It's not your fault," Beca said. "I'm the one who freaked out and accused Chloe of using me. She tried to tell me she had nothing to do with it, but I wouldn't listen to anything she said. I hope she can forgive me for doubting her motives."

"Can you go with me tomorrow? I want to get it over with."

"I'll call out for work and tell them I have a family emergency," Beca said.

"Thanks," Amy said.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca sat on the sofa, looking at her phone. Chloe hadn't responded to Beca's text and Beca was worried she really blew it with Chloe this time.

Beca had finally convinced herself to call Chloe when her phone rang. She smiled as she looked at the caller ID.

"Hey, Emily," Beca said in greeting as she took the call. "How are things?"

"Everything is good here," Emily said. "I'm calling because the Bellas are planning a reunion and I wanted to make sure you have time to make arrangements to be gone for a week while we're in Europe."

"Europe?" Beca repeated, sitting up straighter. "Emily, I can't afford to pay for a trip to Europe. I'm surprised any of the girls can afford that."

"Don't worry about it," Emily said. "Aubrey's got it covered."

"How can she afford it?" Beca asked. "I thought she was managing a retreat in the woods. Somehow, I don't think that pays enough to cover expenses for all of us to go to Europe."

"She's not paying for it, silly," Emily said. "The military will be footing the bill."

"I think you left out some vital information, Em," Beca said. "How and why is the military footing the bill for our Bellas reunion in Europe?"

"Oh, sorry," Emily said. "Let me start from the beginning. Every year the military puts on a USO show and Aubrey's dad helps make arrangements for the entertainment. Aubrey got him to add the Bellas to the show. They will fly us all to Europe and put us up either in a hotel or on a nearby base."

"That's amazing," Beca said, perking up a bit. "We'll get to perform for the troops and sing together again? Sounds like a win-win to me. I'm in."

"Great!" Emily cheered. "We'll email you everything you need to know. Then if you have any questions we can take care of them before we leave. Oh, my stars, I almost forgot. The show is being headlined by DJ Khaled."

"Really?" Beca asked. "That's big news."

"There's even bigger news," Emily said. "This is going to be a competition. Khaled is going to choose one group to open for him for a holiday TV special he'll be doing for the troops. And, if all goes well, it could lead to a recording contract with his studio."

"Wow!" Beca exclaimed.

"Wow, indeed," Emily said, giggling. "Can you tell Amy about it? We'll send her an email with the details as well. I'm just giving everyone a heads up so they can make plans to be away from home or their jobs."

"I'll tell her," Beca said. "Thanks, Emily. I'm looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the girls."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, as well," Emily said. "I have to go. I still need to make a couple of calls."

"Okay," Beca said. "Bye, Emily."

"Bye, Beca," Emily said and ended the call.

~~ My Spy ~~

"Hey, Chloe. It's me again. Um, Beca," Beca rambled. "I, uh, I don't know if you are actively avoiding me because I ran out on you the other night, or you had to leave again for another assignment. Or maybe you just went somewhere to get as far away from me as possible. Whatever your reasons are, I really want to talk to you; to, uh, hear your voice. I do love the sound of your voice. Not necessarily on the phone but, like in person."

Beca paused and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"I want to apologize again for not sticking around to hear what you had to say. I, um, would like to know you're okay. So, even if you don't want to talk to me, could you maybe, just, I don't know, shoot me a text so I know you're okay? Please?"

Beca swallowed loudly.

"I still love you, Chlo," Beca said softly. "I hope we can talk soon."

Chloe couldn't help the smile that came to her face after hearing Beca's voicemail. She immediately texted Beca.

Chloe [9:47 PM]: Hey, I just heard your message. I'm okay now that I know there is still an us. I'm in Portland and know it's after Midnight there, but could you call me when you get this? I don't care what time it is, just please call me. I have so much to tell you. I know talking over the phone isn't ideal, but it's the best I can do for now.

Chloe read the text over before hitting send. She placed her phone on the charger and settled into her bed. Her thoughts were racing as she thought about how scared she was for her aunt and uncle. Her Aunt Peggy was having surgery the next day to have a pacemaker put in. Chloe sent up a silent prayer for both her aunt.

Her thoughts went to her uncle. She and her Uncle Matt had silently set aside their differences to come together for the sake of Peggy. Chloe's thoughts went back to the plane ride from New York.

Chloe sat a few seats away from Matt, not wanting to have to talk to him. She still wasn't over him ordering Jason to crash her date with Beca, especially after she specifically asked him to leave Beca out of it.

Chloe looked at Matt and sighed. He was slumped in his seat staring out the window.

Chloe always thought her Uncle Matt was one of the strongest people she knew. But seeing him like this, looking broken, made her heart hurt for him.

Matt ran his hands down over his face, wiping away the tear that slid down his cheek. If anything happened to his wife, he didn't know if he could go on. She is the love of his life. He glanced back at Chloe. He was ashamed of having ordered Jason to try and get Beca to talk about Patricia Hobart and her father. Chloe had come to him and begged him to leave Beca and Patricia, or rather Fat Amy, out of their investigation and to focus on Fergus Hobart. She had asked that they not use someone who wasn't even close to him to catch him. Good police work would take care of that.

Matt sighed as if he just realized that Beca was to Chloe, what Peggy was to him. He shook his head at himself and stared out the window again.

Chloe watched her uncle and could tell he was hurting. She decided to put aside her anger and got up and moved to where Matt was sitting.

"Anyone sitting here?" Chloe asked with a small smile.

"It's all yours if you want it," Matt said.

Chloe sat down and took Matt's hand, squeezing it. The move startled Matt, but he recovered quickly and squeezed Chloe's hand back. Nothing was said as they continued to find comfort in each other just by holding hands.

Chloe wiped a tear from her eye. She fluffed her pillow and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep in a matter of moments.

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca woke the next morning and grabbed her phone to check it. She wasn't sure if the smile that spread across her mouth was because of the notification that she had an email waiting for her from Emily, or the text notification from Chloe.

Beca's smile faltered a bit as she chewed on her lip. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear what Chloe had to say so she opened Emily's email.

Beca chuckled as she read through the email. She just knew that based on the amount of detailed information, Aubrey had a hand in writing it. Her eyes widened slightly when she read that the tour was to begin in one week.

"That doesn't give us much time to prepare," Beca thought.

"Whoa!" Amy called out. "We're leaving for Europe in a week?"

"Looks like," Beca said, looking over at Amy. "Do you still want to go to the FBI this morning?"

"Um, yeah," Amy said. "Are you still cool with going with me?"

"Yep," Beca said. "What time do you want to go?"

"Let's plan to leave at eleven," Amy said. "We can get lunch after. If that's okay with you?"

"That's fine," Beca said, staring at her phone. She cleared her throat and said, "Um, Chloe texted me."

The night before, after telling Amy about the USO Tour, Beca had told Amy about calling and leaving a message for Chloe.

"What did she say?" Amy asked, looking over at Beca.

"I don't know," Beca said. "I'm afraid to read it."

Amy got up from her bed and took three steps toward Beca.

"Hey!" Beca said as her phone was snatched from her hands.

Amy waved her hand at Beca and pulled up Chloe's text. Beca watched as Amy read, noting that Amy's expression did not change. Beca became slightly panicked.

"What did she say?"

Amy tossed the phone at Beca. "She wants you to call her."

"Really?" Beca asked, looking at the text. "Oh, my God. She still wants to be with me."

Beca immediately hit the call button.

"Hello?" Chloe answered, her voice gravelly from having just woken up.

"Hey," Beca said and then chuckled. "God, I forgot how sexy your voice sounds when you just wake up."

"What time is it?" Chloe asked, trying to see the time on her phone.

"It's eight-thirty here," Beca said, grimacing when she realized it was only five-thirty in Portland. "Sorry it's so early."

"S'okay," Chloe said, yawning. "I did say call me when you got my text."

"So, um, when do you think you'll be in New York again?"

"Not for a while," Chloe responded. "My aunt had a heart attack and is having surgery in, well, just a few hours. I think I'll probably stick around to help take care of her when she gets home. Any chance you might be able to come to Portland?"

"Um, I'm sorry to hear about your aunt," Beca said.

"Thanks," Chloe whispered.

"And about coming to Portland," Beca continued. "The Bellas are leaving for Europe next week to be part of a USO Tour. I don't think I can take any more time off work after that. At least for a while. Maybe a long while."

"I understand," Chloe said softly. "I'm just happy knowing that at some point in the not too distant future, we'll be together. I really miss you, Becs."

"I miss you, too, Chlo," Beca said. She sighed. "I wish I hadn't been so quick to run away from you. We would already be together."

"It's not all your fault," Chloe said. "I'm sorry I didn't make you stay and hear me out. Jason should never have been there and I told my uncle as much."

"Your uncle?" Beca asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I never got the chance to tell you about him. My Uncle Matt is the Director of the team I was on. He's married to my Aunt Peggy. He's also the one who recruited me into the FBI."

"Sounds like we have a lot to talk about," Beca said.

"We do," Chloe said. "I want to hear all about what you've been up to the past few years. And I want to tell you as much as I can about what's been going on in my life."

"I want that, too," Beca said wistfully.

Beca heard a knocking and then a muffled voice calling out to Chloe. She assumed it was Chloe's uncle.

Beca's assumption was confirmed when she heard Chloe call out, "I'm up, Uncle Matt."

"I guess you have to go," Beca said.

"Yeah," Chloe responded. "We wanted to be at the hospital early so we can see my Aunt Peggy before they take her down for her surgery." Chloe let out a breath. "Can I call you later so we can talk more?"

"Absolutely," Beca said. "Call me when you get home from the hospital, okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said, smiling into the phone. "I'll talk to you later. Bye, Beca."

"Bye, Chlo," Beca said. "I, uh, I love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe responded and ended the call.

Both girls sat on opposite sides of the country, smiling as they stared down at their phones and started the countdown to when they could talk again.

After a few minutes, they both sighed and stood to get ready to start their day.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fic #beca mitchell #pitch perfect fanfiction #bechloeislegit

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rouiyan · 4 years

Text

𝘗𝘜𝘓𝘓 𝘔𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 [ 𝘯.𝘫𝘮 ]

⧏ jaemin’s installment of the undone at twenty-one collective ⧐

synopsis: one estranged at the hands of love and the other tethered to his reputation. it's no wonder they find solace within each other.

✧ bartender!na jaemin x (fem.) reader (ft. ex!mark) ✧ college au, almost fwb au

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slight comedy ✧ word count : 15.5k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurities, anxiety attacks, mentions of sex (no explicit smut, as per usual)

✧ author’s note — i'm so sorry to do this to you guys on a weekly, i swear, dropping double digit k fics is not normal and has definitely fucked with my sleep schedule ++ i hit 127 followers on thursday! for a total of four minutes but it was cool while it lasted! thank you!

maybe it all started when na jaemin got the job at the bar. it certainly didn't suit him, not the sweet boy he was, keyword on 'was.' he'd taken a course on bartending over the summer between senior year high school and his first year of college, just for fun until he realized he could actually use his license to get a job that paid slightly above minimum wage. maybe, it all started when he'd seen a classmate at the bar, a pretty girl at that, who'd smiled in a way that could only be classified as flirtatiously. maybe that's what had jaemin winking back, for the first time in his life. maybe that's what got him laid later that night. and maybe that's how he started to identify as more of a fuckboy than a heartthrob. it was a far out though new feeling, he thought. high school jaemin could never, he thought.

but maybe it all started to come to an end when you walked into the bar for the fourth time that week, eyes rimmed red and breath already tinged with alcohol. you ordered a draft beer from him, something light to keep you slightly buzzed but not completely knocked out. the hands of the clock were nearing two in the morning and the bar, especially the area of the counter he was tending, was beginning to empty out. jaemin struck conversation once you were the only one left and seven minutes before his shift ended.

he realizes, again, that you have zero recollection of him though he'd also struck conversation for the three nights before.

"how was your day, miss?"

you look up, head propped on your right hand, hand propped up with your elbow. "me?" slightly wary, you sit upright in front of the guy behind the counter. his smile never falters when he nods. you blink twice before remembering to respond, "i- no, i mean, today was okay," you slouch back into yourself, "a little less than okay, actually." the bartender's eyes widen in consideration, remembering that you had stopped at just 'okay' for the past days he'd asked you. he takes from this to offer politely, "do you mind if i ask what happened?"

your eyes are focused on the sink behind him, distractedly. almost forgetting to reply, you gather your thoughts by clearing your throat and pondering for a few moments before beginning to speak, hesitantly, "well it's like when you just know something bad's gonna happen, and you know for awhile. then it does happen and you don't get to be surprised or shocked because you already knew. so all you're left to feel is just," you heave a sigh, "sadness, or maybe even regret."

the metal nametag pinned to his chest glints in the lights above as he moves forward to place his elbows on the counter, leaning casually. you notice it to spell out 'jaemin' and a part of your subconsciousness is trying to make you remember that you know this guy. you know him from school, from rumors, from your gossiping friends, you know him from the bar even. but all you're able to process is that he is one hell of a good-looking specimen.

jaemin's eyes glint in the light as well when he poorly guesses, "did bad on a test? late homework assignment?" laughing and completely missing the fact that this 'stranger' had correctly assumed you to be a college student, you shake your head, "if it were either of those, i'd be awfully dramatic for coming to a bar and drinking my days away instead of studying." he's laughing as well and you can't help but think that his smile, straight pearly whites and all, is probably the most welcoming sight your eyes have laid upon the whole day. picking the conversation back up, you decide that it probably wouldn't do much harm to indulge jaemin in the latest and breaking news of your life. "actually, i was dumped today."

he sucks in a long breath in understanding, licking his lips, "so, a bad breakup. those aren't too fun." agreeing, you shake your head. the atmosphere is good-natured when you quip, "would it be worse to say that it was the eighth time too?" jaemin's brows shoot up in surprise and he pushes himself off his elbows, shifting his weight onto his hands. "eighth? as in eighth breakup or eighth time you've been dumped?" a chuckle escapes your complexion, giving way to how vulnerable you were feeling, vulnerable to a laughable extent. your eyes are cast downward when you respond, "the second."

jaemin pries in a way that doesn't seem like prying, you wonder how he does so. "care to share?" it's possible his range of bartender-ly duties extends to the likes of a therapist, "i mean, i don't see why not." you quirk your lips, the only thought coursing through your mind consisting of how the bridge of his nose was so carefully structured and how oversharing with this man didn't seem so much of a bad idea. you were, after all, far too caught up in your drunken stupor to think anything otherwise.

"let's see, i was ghosted by my first boyfriend in ninth grade, cheated on by my second, figured out that my third was only dating me for a bet, fourth just straight up stopped liking me, fifth lied to me about his age, objectified by my sixth, thought i was dating my seventh but turns out he forgot he asked me out, and my eighth...well, that one's a bit different."

he's back on his elbows, in intriguement and also due to the new song that began to play from the speakers above, louder than the last, "how so?" you're afraid the feelings are going to pour back within your forefront thoughts so you keep your answer short, "we dated for two years."

"and?"

you're quiet for a few moments. those moments are taken to mull over the exact reasonings behind your shitty day, almost as if you had forgotten. blinking slowly, the dryness of your contact lenses becoming apparent, you respond hesitantly, "and, he said he didn't see a future with me. that i could only ever be his first love."

jaemin seems to mull over this as well, "and did you see a future with him?"

you haven't looked up at him in a while, instead, focusing your sights on the way you've let your acrylics grow out far too long, how the skin around your nails is peeling, and how your palms are also creased with dry lines. using the same hand to lift the bottle from its handle, you toss the rest of its contents down your throat, swallowing in one motion. setting it back down, tongue grazing over your lips to catch the spilt extras, you look jaemin in the eye.

"yeah," you move to collect your things, "i guess i did." you pay. you take your leave.

he sees you again the following day, for the fifth time in that single week and he's led to wonder if there is a reason you seem frequent this one bar. the atmosphere possibly, the customer service maybe, or even him, though he's doubtful.

this time you're accompanied by two friends, one he knows to be jeno's best friend, eunmi, and the other, the crush of that same friend, jaein. jaemin's known eunmi for as long as jeno has, since the beginning of high school. jaemin also knows that eunmi, as of the late, doesn't like himself all that much. he figures it has something to do with the bit of a reputation his name now carries.

jaemin thinks the girls are by your side for emotional support. perhaps, today proved even shittier than yesterday, but he's thwarted a few moments after when the three of you seem to be lost in the depths of interesting conversation, light-hearted laughter, and glasses that can't seem to fill themselves as fast as they empty into your stomachs, except for jaein, that is, but especially for you.

it's 12:48 in the morning when he's thrown off guard for the first time that night, in the midst of whipping up a whiskey for the grumpy man down the counter, eunmi falls asleep, literal in the sense that she really does fall and would've completely sagged into the ground if the table had not been in gravity's way. jaemin watches as jaein lifts the poor girl's head off the surface, revealing an angry red splotch, and transfers eunmi's weight onto her lap.

he's thrown off guard for a second time at 1:22, watching you stand straight from your seat, swaying a tad bit, but brows creased in strong will and determination. you're walking towards him, steps that would be quick if only you were even mildly aware of sidestepping the paths of others. you pant as you reach the table, head feeling a little too hot and too heavy to aid in clear thinking. squinting at him, though you were but a few feet away, "your name. what's your name again?"

jaemin repeats the actions you'd done yesterday, slightly wary in expression and checking his posture, "me?" you don't reply but continue to scrutinize the way he looks. he supposes that's just as much of an answer, "it's jaemin, i believe we talked yesterday." your mouth parts in recognition and moves as if to form a word or two in response. jaemin watches as it opens and closes again and, even after much deliberation, the only thing you can find to say is, "well, you're fucking hot."

"oh-"

"shit, didn't mean to say that aloud." your lips smack in embarrassment, shifting your weight to your left foot. your mind is yelling at you to sober up, to save your face.

a smile adorns the man's features as he bemusedly remarks, "i'm sure you didn't." there's a silence that hangs between the two of you, and you're on the cusp of excusing yourself from further embarrassment when jaemin blurts out, "if it helps, i think you're fucking hot too." it might just be the alcohol in your system that's making the heat rise in your countenance but you swear you blush, and you never blush!

fingering the lobe of your right ear, you fumble with your thoughts until settling on a quiet, "thanks." jaemin busies himself with swiping a rag across the counter, unaware of the awkwardness on your end. looking up, he offers, "would you like a drink?" nodding, you take a seat at the bar in front of him, eyes slipping back to the girls for a split second, only to see jaein on her phone and eunmi still asleep. returning your sights, you're met with a slight humor traced in jaemin's expression, "what?"

he lets out the smallest of chuckles, mouth moving but lacking words, sentences starting but never ending, until he finally makes himself clear. "you- would you mind ordering a drink then?" your hand comes up, as if you had a point to make, but returns into your lap as you realize you'd never elaborated. "oh," your hand resurfaces to massage your temples, "same as yesterday then."

jaemin doubts you even remembered what you'd gotten yesterday but goes on to fill a bottle of beer from the kegs behind him. you're staring at his back in wonderment at how lackluster in...social interactions you'd become, how lackluster in flirting you were. you guess two years of being cuffed would render anyone a little rusty. hell, it wasn't as if you were keen on flirting with every hot guy you saw but jaemin, not that you remember much, gave off the right feeling after a wrong relationship. that was surely a green light, right?

"here," he slides it across the counter with a wink, entirely out of habit. you wince at that, "ew no, don't do that around me, i'm not one of your fuckbuddies." retying his black waist apron, he replies with a, "right, you're not." he pulls a neat bow in place and sets his hands back on the counter, there's a lilt to his voice when he speaks, "but, if you ever feel like you need-"

you wave him off, "i'm good, thanks for the offer though."

he watches you chug the draft beer. nodding, he replies under his breath, more to himself than anything, "i see." you finish the bottle in no time but it looks as if you were to vomit, or pass out, or maybe even black out, or all three at once. jaemin really does not mean to spur your flirtatious gene as much as his own but seeing you like this he offers, "it's on the house." you're definitely surprised for a good half of a second but in the other half, you drunkenly lean across the table, so far so that jaemin's nose is but a few inches away from yours.

something in jaemin stirs. the stench of your breath, your hardened eyes, the delicate lines of your lips. jaemin finds that it isn't lust that rumbles beneath his carefully built expression. and though it might as well be some form of pity, he doesn't hesitate to take your phone from you when you ask, "can i have your number?" he doesn't mind the smile that graces your face as you take your phone back, as you turn around to head back with your friends, not even in the right mind to say a goodbye, and even as you exclaim, rather loudly, to jaein, "i got his number," a smile of his own is quick to light up his face. but na jaemin hides his silly smile and even himself a little later when jeno appears to drive the three of you home. he even goes so far as to hide the smile and the meanings behind the smile from himself, afraid that he'd uncover something that was very un-bartender-ly of him to feel for a customer. at least, that's what happens before he ends his shift.

when you first wake up, it's at the sound of the door of your room clicking shut. jaein, you suppose, you'll thank her later. the ceiling is oddly comforting after a week that just didn’t start well, go well, end well. love isn’t your forte, loving yourself, loving others, anything to do with love. you supposed that getting dumped the seventh time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. you fall once again to sleep that night with nothing on your mind other than the thought that you might as well be single for the rest of your life.

but you wake up in the love, not of a lover per se, but of a best friend. the post-it note on your bedside reads, text me when you wake up!, and the smile that lifts your face is instantaneous. jaein has never failed to care for you, despite being almost a year younger, and in that way and many others, you feel indebted to her.

you fail to recall any of the events of the night prior, though if anything horrendous happened you knew jaein would be more delighted to share. you stumble across your phone somewhere in the sheets after searching aimlessly and you decide that making a call would perhaps be more thoughtful than a measly text. but as you scroll through the names in your phone, upset that you didn't have jaein's contact pinned in your favorites, you stop, well, your heart stops because right below her contact is listed na jaemin.

you are two thoughts away from crossing over to tap the shoulder of the girl a little ways in front of you, her silhouette a great deal similar to jaein's, when a hand is placed on your own shoulder. you don't have a chance to turn and see who it is because that hand has traveled a little ways across your front, latching from one shoulder to another and bringing your body flush with his. you tilt your head to get a glance, only to find jaemin smiling down at you, the strobe lights glaring a brief red across his features. "been avoiding me?"

yeah no shit you've been avoiding him, suddenly nowhere to be found at the bar you used to appear at every single day of the week. and though the two of you attended the same college, you made extra sure to-

"jeno told me eunmi asked him for my lecture schedule for you, wonder why." a smirk grazes his lips, playfully. he’s grinding on your ass now, slow compared to the music blasting from overhead. taking your shoulder in his hands, he spins you to face him, "why are you avoiding me? tell me." jaemin places a hand on the curve of your neck, brings you closer to him, either so that he could hear your response better or because of whatever lust was running through his eyes. somehow, even with the minuscule amount of alcohol in your system, you can’t bring yourself to mind that he’s looking at you like some starved animal.

"what do you want, jaemin?" he doesn't hesitate to show you, a lazy kissed pressed to your lips before leaning in towards your ear, "i want you in my bed."

no objections are made when the arm around your shoulder tightens its hold, so as not to loose you in such a crowd. nothing is said in opposition when he ushers you towards the stairwell, brushing past people left and right. no sign of reluctance is apparent when you cross the threshold of his room, shutting the door behind you. and not a trace of hesitance is found as you find a spot beside the man who's already placing a strand of wide kisses onto your neck.

"what'd you say about not being one of my fuckbuddies the other day?"

"well," you hastily move to straddle him, allowing him to a wider expanse of your chest, "i was drunk, fuck whatever i said." you lean back for the slightest of seconds to catch his expression, lust lined his eyes. certainly, you felt like one of his fuckbuddies now but maybe this is what you need, a distraction. just one thing in your life, one time, one moment in time where it wasn't so frustratingly shoved up in your face that your world, your one love, hadn't been torn down right before your eyes. maybe kissing jaemin with such raw desire would finally give you the reigns over your goddamned emotions. his lips on your collarbone, tracing down slower and slower onto your breasts, his hands guiding you lower and lower into his bed, it felt exhilarating. in that one second, when his fingers moved to the hem of your dress, eyes shifting to meet yours in question, you nod fervently because really, you want to let him in, you feel safe letting him in.

but it only lasts for that one second because the door is burst open in the next, and a tipsy man and a wasted woman are storming on inside, eyes raking the place until they land on you and yours land on theirs, on his. mark lee. it's mark lee's eyes and as you take in the sight of the rest of him, the familiar him, and the girl by his side, suddenly nothing has ever felt more wrong. jaemin's lips, his hard on pressing against your core, nothing has ever felt more wrong when mark lee is staring right at you. why is it that you feel like you've cheated on him?

he leaves, pulling the woman behind him.

the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing yet, for once, you're not partaking in it. "are you okay? do you need some water?" you lick your lips and decide, "some water would be nice, thank you." jaemin leaves the room, door clicking shut behind him and signaling your immediate breakdown.

a shudder passes your lips, reverberates down your spine, curls your toes. you draw into yourself, bringing with you jaemin's blankets on which you were sat. there is nothing more that leaks from your countenance than bouts of undisturbed anxiety that you let wrack your walls of understanding and awareness. you don't bother to fight back with distractions, no alcohol this time, no quick fucks, nothing to ease the weight that settles in your gut, presses down your heart and blurs the visions of jaemin's room.

he returns in seven minutes, promptly enough, for you're just about to wither in the confines of loneliness. the blankets are pulled taut around your figure and your head is in between your knees, mind flitting between images of mark and images of the darkness that threatens to envelop you whole. jaemin places the cup of warm water on the nightstand and dips the bed to your right though you barely register his presence until his hand begins kneading lines down your back.

the feeling returns. the one you know all too well by now. the one where the skin on your forehead feels too tight from being scrunched in frustration for too long, when your brain feels like it doesn't belong in your skull, when you feel ruptures in your heart, aches in your soul, as if you were to combust if you so much as moved in the slightest. your ragged breaths echo in your head, over and over, as if to remind you that you aren't okay, that nothing is real, that the only thing keeping you alive are your breaths, the only thing between life and death.

your breaths are also what grounds you, focusing on the in and out, the way the air fills your lungs, the way it exits. your hands begin to mellow their shake and you begin to gain some semblance of your being. you feel that jaemin is all around you. he's everything you smell, his breaths are all you hear, his lean body and arms are all you feel, and though you can't see him, you know he's there.

he's there when you turn in his embrace, looking up at him with eyes that tell age-long tales of hurt from delivering too much passion whilst receiving near to none. he's there when you wrap your arms around him, head tucking into his chest. he's there when your breaths even and he's there when you tell him you can't fall asleep.

jaemin hands you a set of his clothes, a light shirt and sweatpants, and ushers you gently into the bathroom. you change without looking in the mirror, afraid of what you'll see. he tugs you by the hand, once you're out, to the car. you only question him thirty minutes into the ride, "where are we going?"

he doesn't quite answer you, "if i'm right, we should be just in time." scrunching your nose in the darkness, "just in time for…?"

it's then that he turns into a dim parking lot and suddenly everything becomes clear when the wide screen comes into view, "jaemin...you 50's romanticist." the time is almost four in the morning, you didn't know the local drive-in theater had screenings that early and you're surprised that the man in the driver's seat knows. he offers you a hand and you take it, absentmindedly.

the movie is interesting enough to keep your begrudging thoughts away until an hour or so passes and you're beginning to teeter from exhaustion. before you have a chance to pass out, jaemin gives your fingers a little squeeze, alerting you, and then slowly tugging you over the middle console of his car and into his lap while lowering his seat. again, you comply absentmindedly, you're in no mindset to be complaining.

straddling him for the second time that night, you sigh into his chest. your eyes are fluttering closed when you begin to trace back the moments that brought you to this mess in the first place, the events that led to you in na jaemin's lap, the boy renowned in bed. you're a conscious thought away from voicing aloud your hatred of love. fucking love.

the prospect of love is addicting to you, like a drug in many more ways than one. you want to get lost in someone's eyes, you want to swim in the embrace of your other half, you want to be able to romanticize every aspect of your life, to be able to attribute your everything to one single person who would do the exact same for you. you can't part with the thought that love isn't for you.

and you know that there really are people who live just fine being single, people who don't feel the need to share their every joy and letdown with a special someone, people who feel enough just being in their own company. you know that yet, you're fully convinced you just aren't one of those people. because no matter how hard you want to say that getting left in the dust for the eighth time became the turning point in this endless chase, you can't see yourself ever stopping. there is not a single part of you that wishes to stop.

your breaths are shallow and brimmed with sobs as you drift into rest. above all that's been said, the least you can admit is that love is only a feeling. just like any other.

✧ ONE (01) YEAR AGO

"mark, what the fuck, we never go on actual dates." you complain, though you really don't mind all that much. the car pulls into a parking spot in front of the library, "and who's to say study dates aren't actual dates?" he opens the door for you and you roll your eyes graciously.

the two of you take your usual spots, the two at the end of the long row in the central area. it's halfway secluded, one side shoved against the wall, but still enough in the open to keep you guys from entirely ditching school work and talking until shushed by a librarian.

he's about to say something when a librarian appears just around the corner, pushing a cart of books. so instead, mark takes a piece of lined paper from his notebook, gently ripping it at the edge, taking his pen out and writing a line and passing the note to you. i'll take you somewhere nice next time. sorry babe, i just happened to have a lot of work today.

you press your lips together, eyeing the man that was eyeing you back, okay, my love. you pass it back, shooting him the most playful of smiles. he writes quickly and when he slides the paper back to you, you read his words quickly. sure thing, my world.

you giggle, the sound eliciting a glare from the stressed schoolmate beside you. quickly you jot down the words you've been wanting to say to him. fine by me, my future. you shuffle the paper towards the man across from you, unwilling to hide yet another smile that spreads across your face. you watch as mark takes the paper in his hands, skims the words you've carefully penned and then, he puts it away, tucks it into the front of his backpack. you smile fondly at him for safekeeping the paper, thinking he'd want to keep it as a little memento, a token of your love for him.

perhaps you should've thought a little more about it, the action, because in that moment it never occurred to you that he only put it away because he didn't want to respond, he had nothing in his heart that he could say to top that, and he most certainly did not see you as anything more, much less his future.

that lined piece of paper has long been discarded by now, in the most literal and figurative sense. mark could chalk it up to the possibility that it was just the right person at the wrong time but he knows there's absolutely nothing wrong with the time. college was going to zip by quickly for the two of you, you guys could move in together maybe, tell each other about your new jobs, every pay raise you got, and when you guys begin to settle down, a house would be bought and a ring would be proposed, and kids and old age would follow. somehow, mark can't help but acknowledge the fact that it simply was the wrong person at the right time. deep down, he knows it's always been that way for him. not for you. and he could only hope to turn back time and tell you a little sooner, maybe lessen the pain he knew he was to eventually inflict upon you. two years was two years too long. mark’s a nice guy and the weight of being your eighth breakup had a tough hold on him, it really did.

✧ PRESENT

you lift your feet up onto the other side of the booth, back against the window and your arrangement of your textbooks and computer to your left. jaein, studious as ever, looks up at you for a brief moment, "break? already?"

it's only been thirty minutes since the two of you arrived with the set intentions to study. "yup, already." you sigh, with everything going on, it's hard to pay attention to just one thing. especially something that seems so insignificant in the whole scheme of things. "y/n, are you getting enough sleep these days?"

you look over at her, her hair swept into a small ponytail, eyes holding the stars. jaein had her own fair share of problems, especially when it came to boys, but she never halted to care for herself. you wish you could be like her. "enough, yeah i'm getting enough." she puts down her pen, wrinkling her nose, "well then, make sure to get more than enough, yeah?" you only nod in response.

jaein's eyes rome until they settle upon a girl a few tables down, also studying. she cocks her head in inquisition, "hey, isn't that minyoung?" you wait for jaein to look away before you take a peek behind you, not wanting to seem conspicuous. you know her, you share some of your professors with her, you see her almost everyday, but you've never been riled up by just her presence being in the same room as yours. you look back at jaein, "yeah, that's minyoung."

"minyoung as in the girl that jaemin's datin-"

"they're not dating," you intercept. sighing in distaste, you follow up to cover your evident aversion of the girl, "just fucking around." jaein only nods, eyes wide in worry.

a few minutes pass and you're already sinking back into your workload when she speaks, "does it bother you? that they- they're fucking around?" now, you're sinking into yourself because you really have no idea what you're supposed to be feeling, how you're supposed to be feeling, or even if you're supposed to be feeling anything for this boy who you know little to nothing about.

but you guess it's because of what you do know about him that throws you off. na jaemin, the campus fuckboy, heart throb, and whatever other name that makes his image sound as vile as it is enticing. in some other universe, you're sure to have already let him eat you out over the course of the few weeks you've known him but somehow, you're glad that you reside in the universe where your head seems to be more securely fastened above your heart. you lick your lips in consideration but nothing comes to mind.

it's frustrating because as much as you hate to admit it, na jaemin makes you feel something. he stirs up something within you, something that hasn't been there in a long time. maybe not since your first crush or when mark first asked you out or even in the heights of your relationship with him when you felt like you could feel nothing more than love for the wretched boy.

you tell her, "it bothers me. it shouldn't, but it does." because though you don't know why. why you're feeling so strongly, or feeling at all, for a man so far from what you need after the end of a long-winded and committed relationship. you don't know why you even care, if anything, him fucking around with a handful of girls served even more as a sign for you to just stay away. getting invested in his small, thoughtful actions and his intense, loving stares is just asking for a ninth breakup. you don't know why but the idea of him being in bed with another girl, bothers you. it shouldn't, but it does.

jaemin isn't ever invited to these types of outings. usually, on a weeks basis, he's invited to quite the number of houses instead. houses of girls and houses that housed parties. never a restaurant, and never in the middle of the day. jeno had let that he was invited because eunmi had some 'investigation' to do, so naturally, he'd expect you to be there as well. turns out this investigation was set up for himself only, seeing as he was now sitting at the far edge of the table, to the left of renjun, whom he had never personally met, and across eunmi, who seems to spend most the time scrutinizing him instead of eating.

the purpose of his presence is made clear as eunmi sits up straight, gaze still fixed on him, and asks straight to the point, "what do you want with y/n?"

jaemin places his fork down calmly but his voice is anything but that, surprised, "i- what do i- what do you mean?" his hands are folded in his lap now, he wonders if this was the reason you didn't come, he wonders if eunmi asked him to come just to interrogate him in front of all your friends. she's still staring at him and though he's taller, he feels a great deal smaller when everyone's eyes are turned to him. hell, even jeno stopped ogling at jaein to give his attention to the scene on the other side of him.

he clears his throat and reiterates, now with a sense of the atmosphere, "what do you mean?" jaemin blinks rapidly as eunmi heaves a sigh, placing two folded hands on the table and pushing her point to light, "why are you messing with her? you wanna fuck her? you know she's off limits for you." jaemin asks the two question he knows he'll end up regretting, he can't help the spite that curls at the edge of his mind for the girl who so fervently despises him, "why is she off limits for me, huh? got something against me?"

"yeah, yeah i do. you go around sleeping with every other girl you see, you, jaemin, you are the last thing she needs right now."

"who are you to decide what she needs-"

"i'm just looking out for her, okay? and, shit, i know she has every right to, i don't know, fuck around with you too, but i can't sit here and watch as she falls for someone that doesn't give two shits about how she feels."

jaemin finds that he has nothing to say. the words echo around in his head, fall for someone, fall for him. he stares down at his food, takes a sip of his water, wipes his clammy hands on a napkin. when he looks up again, eunmi's expression is a tenfold softer than it was before.

"i'm sorry, jaem. it's just- i don't trust you anymore. you've changed a lot since, since…high school." jaemin only nods.

revolutions are held within him as he drives home that day. jaemin notes that the feelings are nothing new, he thinks it has something to do with the little churns in his stomach on the fifth night of your week of 'get drunk, get wasted.' he doesn't bother to suppress the feelings this time, it's been too long, he thinks.

it's been too long since he's liked someone for who they really are instead of just their pussy, he thinks. he, and his loving self, welcomes the feeling with open arms. it's been years since the giddy persona of a lovesick jaemin resurfaced. he's glad it's because of you.

"jaemin, hey, do you need anything?" you remove your eyes from your computer screen for the first time in a few hours, you barely register the strain when his voice is quick to respond from the other end of the line, "can you come down? i'm outside, got a lil something for you." eyes almost ejecting out of their sockets, you quickly mutter a, "sure, i'll be down in two," before hanging up, slamming your computer shut, throwing on a hoodie over your lazy study-day outfit, and grabbing your keys after almost forgetting them entirely.

straightening down the stray strands of your hair as you tread down the steps of the stairwell, you take a minute to breathe, a minute to yourself, before exiting the building. the sky is dark, the time being a little after dinner, but the lamplight that falls onto the man's face makes your heart swoon at the sight. dangerous territory.

"hey," you voice as he meets you in the middle. "what are you-"

"here," he holds out a teddy bear, medium in size, brown and fuzzy. you take it from him graciously and he tucks his hands into his jeans pocket, "i was just-i just thought that you'd...yeah." chuckling, you notice the hues of warmth rise in his cheeks. "wow, didn't think you were one to blush." he's laughing as well, from the embarrassment, hand coming up to cover his cheeks, to cover his smile, his stupid smile.

his smile never falters when he asks, "may i ask you something?" you nod, unassumingly.

"can i take you out on a date? next week maybe?"

breathless and eyes sparkling, you look up at him as if he were the one who put the sparkles in your eyes. he really was. now, it's you that blushes, hands coming up to cover your own cheeks, "yeah, i'd- i would like that." you almost want to coo at him when you see the relief that washes over his expression.

"you would?"

"yes, jaemin," you give a breathy laugh, "i'd like that very much."

fucking love. that one stupid feeling that could get you so emotionally intoxicated in ways no substance ever could. the kind of love that made you want to scream into the void, to exclaim your sheer and utter elatedness to the world. fucking love that you could never not chase, especially if it was jaemin.

mark never took pictures of you. not that you expected him to by default, he just never did. jaemin, however, shows up right outside your dorms, a camera hanging down from his neck. you can't say it doesn't charm your heart.

"what's that for?" you eye the camera as you slip into the passenger seat. you already know, you just love it when he says, "for you, of course." his hand holds yours as he drives and it stays that way until the two of you arrive.

the botanical gardens are, for the most part, empty on the weekdays, working wonderfully in your favor as jaemin leads you, also by the hand, through the forests of greenery, the air so crisp that it fills your mind with clarity after a week of muddled studying. jaemin compares you to the likes of several flowers, all of which he implores for you to pose next to for a picture. he especially finds the daphne odora, the winter flowering of daphnes, to hold the highest esteem in regards to you. you have not the slightest idea why.

the two of you are strolling under the glass-covered conservatory when light conversation turns heavy. confusion lines your face as you look over at him, "jaem?"

"yes?" he takes an extra step or two to match your pace. you stare at his feet as you speak, "what's...what's different about me?"

"what do you mean by that?" hesitance sits in your every word, "you don't treat me like...one of them, like one of you're fuckbuddies."

"because you're not," he replies simply. in all honesty, there's something you're looking for, something you just need to know, though you are lost in how to phrase it. shaking your head a bit, to wrack the insides for an answer, you end up regurgitating the same question, "yeah but, what makes me different?"

jaemin doesn't seem to mind and answers to his best ability, "well, for one, we're not fucking. and then there's the fact that i- that…" he trails off, the words are right there at the tip of his tongue, waiting to jump out at you, to allow you to revel in his love. he doesn't dare voice them aloud, the threat of rejection is stemming and rooting itself in his bloodstream. unaware, you urge him on, "that…"

your date is lost in thought, eyes seeming to be particularly interested in a bloom of camellias. you suppose they're plenty interesting but you wonder how he'd lost the interest in speaking with you so quickly. was it something that you said? maybe asking him so upfront like that wasn't the best choice. jaemin, meanwhile, is panicking. sure, the camellias look beautiful but the millions of thoughts that course through his mind are each occupying too much space for his mouth to actually form a string of words that make coherent sense.

jaemin finally, finally settles on something to say, just as the two of you are rounding upon the exit. he subtly wishes he'd gotten a picture of you by the camellias. turning his sights back in your direction, he verbalizes, "are you going home for winter break?"

lips pursed, you shake your head, "no, i was just planning on staying at school-"

"do you wanna come with me? back home?"

you stop in your tracks. jaemin walks on until the hand that's carrying yours is tugged to a stop. he looks back at you and sees the way you gulp, the way you refuse to return his gaze. he makes his way back to you, closing the distance he's created. jaemin is a few seconds, a few thoughts, away from recollecting his propositions with a 'nevermind' and a quick brush of a hand but you beat him to it, voice small, but instead of hesitance, it's laced in full conviction.

"yeah okay, i can do that."

it isn't until you're back in your dorms later that night, going over a couple of review sheets for your upcoming exam, that you think to do a little research. a new tab is opened, a few words are typed, and you're floored with what you're met with.

the daphne odora (winter daphne), where 'odora' is latin for fragrant, is most noted, though not often, to be a symbol of doting love, as if to say 'i would not have you otherwise." it flowers in the winter and is primarily prone to wilting in hard soil and low sunlight…

✧ SIX (06) MONTHS AGO

mark's parents give you a once-over before letting you in. just the way they look at you speaks volumes. you can only hope they don't treat you any different. for some reason, his house feels cold, unpleasant, unwelcoming. and though you thought any homemade meal should bring about a sense of warmth, dinner is passed in tight-lipped smiles and the worst type of small talk, small talk about the weather.

retreating into his room after dinner, you decide to bring to light your worries, "mark, i don't think they really-" evident, he's already two steps ahead of you, "it's fine, y/n, they just haven't seen me date someone in awhile."

treading carefully over to his bed and placing a knee upon the sheets, you offer, "so...overly critical?"

he gives you a look, one that opposes your quavering brows and reverts your worries, "exactly."

"right," you huff a sigh of relief, as far as you know, you're convinced but the underlying layer of disbelief still holds true, "i'm gonna go get changed, okay?" you hear a mumbled, "okay" in response as you reopen the door, sights already on the bathroom at the end of the hall. it's when you're at the top of the stairwell, just before your destination, that you hear the conversation from down below, his parents you suppose.

"i'm just saying we shouldn't take this too seriously," by the pitch, you tell it's mark's mom. you move for the bathroom, uninterested, until his dad speaks up as well, "i know, especially with how she looks, exactly like her don't you think?"

"it's the eyes, they have the same eyes," your hand, just above the doorknob, is held in place. your face, expressions of the shock and concern that comes with the revelation, is unmoved. and your breath is no longer coursing air through your lungs.

"mark must still be really hung up on her if he's stuck with that replacement for so long," your hands being to shake and you're afraid that whimpers will arise in their wake, you make haste into the room, closing the door after enduring one last sentence. his mom chuckles, "poor soul, i hope he tells her soon."

you can't find the light switch but you're trembling fingers are quick to latch onto what you assume to be the shower dial, turning on the water to mask your loud sobs. you lock the door behind you, sliding down the back of it while letting out the briniest of tears. the rubber bathroom mat underneath you squeaks and your feet hit the vanity across from you. hands in your hair you can only pull at the strands, the strings of curse words and pain that emit from your figure more mental than physical.

you've never wondered what it would be like to be filed under 'replacement,' or to have a spot in someone's life as merely a disposable placeholder, someone whose presence was dictated solely by how well you satisfied the other's needs for closure, or lack thereof. now you're wondering if that is really all there is to love, satisfying each other's self-serving desires. you wonder if mark served some sort of purpose to you. but you could not, for the life of you, think of one. never in your life as now have you wanted so badly to see the good in a person you swore to love for perhaps the rest of your life.

you want to look him in the eye and tell him that you can't take it anymore, the disrespect, the mistreatment. maybe you could be dramatic and throw a hand across his face, a cup of water to douse his senses. you'd think that a man so kind would be the epitome of committed lover, never one to be agenda-oriented, not that the mark you now pictured was some scheming wretch, but you had to keep in mind that even going as far back as when he first laid his eyes on you, the interest you saw in them was in reality just familiarity. somewhere in you, something about you, maybe not even your looks, resonated with the memory of someone that was already held close to his heart, long before you came along. you were just there so he could relive his past, relish in his memories, prolong the inevitable.

but more than everything, you despise yourself. it's because of who you are, your willingness to be unfalteringly loyal even in the face of something so wrong, that makes it so you are always the backup plan, the last resort, the dumped and not the dumper. it's who you are that keeps you silent till the very moment he ends the whole damned relationship, till the very moment when there's no point in speaking out anymore, so that all that's left to do is to cry out.

✧ PRESENT

the sky is vast out in the countryside. the wind pays no mind to ruffling the leaves on the trees, branches already bare in the wake of autumn. you wished it could snow, just a little, though you doubt the early december rains would be so willing to fall into harsh winter so soon. jaemin ushers you to close the window your finger are flitting out of, he keeps ushering you, but you give him a shake of your head each time, you like the cool air. as he exits the highway, you finally slip them back in, tips of your fingers numbed raw, and jaemin looks at you in an 'i told you so' fashion before rolling the window up to keep the heated air within.

as so many times before, he takes your hand in his while he drives. fussing, his own fingers now encasing and rubbing yours to build the warmth back up. you perk up as the surroundings start to speak more 'countryside' than 'middle of nowhere.' a gas station, diner, couple of shopping plaza are passed, "how much longer?" jaemin pulls to a stop at a red light, "four, maybe five." eyes sparkling, you turn towards him, bringing your legs up on the seat and pulling his hand in yours to your lap, "ooh, so we're close. really close."

the light turns green and jaemin waits for the car in front of him to move, "why? you nervous?" you squirm in your spot, under his gaze, "i mean, n- no," rubbing the back of your neck, "yeah, a little i guess."

"and why is that?"

your hand is still on the back of your neck, fumbling with your words, "well, i mean, your parents. and we're not even- yeah, i don't know."

you say you don't know, yet, both of you know exactly what you're trying to say.

jaemin's childhood home is quaint, with a big front and backyard, and the only house on his street that has offwhite siding paint and soft blue shutters. you'd never pegged him to be a countryside kind of boy.

you've only known jaemin for the better part of two months, yet, the first thing his mom does is hold you in her warm, welcoming embrace. "y/n, dear! such a pleasure to have you here, you're all jaemin talks about over the phone." you blush at that, pulling away from her to give your most sincere smile. you wonder since when blushing was your thing.

his mother does her absolute best to learn your whole life story over the course of one single meal and his father is gruff but fails to hide a smile at your small attempts at anecdotes while jaemin full on chortles on his food. you're glad that not once do they bring up the questionings of your and jaemin's relationship because frankly, you have no idea what the whole deal with it is yourself.

even after dinner, his mother is quick to pull you into the living room, tightly bound photo albums stacked high in her hands. as the two of you coo over two-year-old jaemin taking a bath, four-year-old jaemin at his first piano recital, seven-year-old jaemin's face smushed in his birthday cake, the actual jaemin finishes up washing the dishes and makes his way to his packed bags, unveiling a pack of...you're not sure.

he sits to your right, setting the paper envelope on the table. you pick it up just as he puts it down. peering in, you pull out a bundle of photos strapped together with a measly rubber band. slipping it off, your eyes soften when you realize that almost two thirds of the stack is just you, and then a flower or two, and then some more of you.

jaemin and his mother are hovering over your shoulders on both sides when you reveal the last picture, one of you and jaemin that he had so kindly asked another visitor to take, the daphnes in the back. he had said something funny, you wish you remembered what it was, and in the moment you were looking up at him with your face scrunched in amusement, but it was too late, the picture had been taken. the man on your right takes the laminated photo from you, "i think," he starts, hands navigating the photo albums to find the most recent one. flipping it open, he slides it into the slot underneath a picture of him at his high school graduation, "i think it goes here."

jaemin gives his mother a look, unbeknownst to you, and she dismisses the two of you hurriedly to go off to bed, to get some rest after a long car ride. jaemin doesn't think much of that, apparent in how he does urge you to shower, unpack, and get comfy in his bed but also keeps you up, talking into the depths of the night.

he explains to you, later after you had asked, why his albums only went up until the end of his high school days. his head is propped up on the pillow, body strewn on the thin mattress of his bedroom floor, but both upturned to you perched on his bed. his room is a showcase of his younger years, far before you knew him, and even farther before you heard rumors of him. the walls are littered with certificates of merit, ribbons of academic excellence and his shelves, instead of books, have been cleared out for an abundance of trophies, for innumerable instruments, for perfect attendance, for anything and everything a person under eighteen could be awarded for. you'd never pegged jaemin to be a countryside boy, and added on to that, you'd never have pegged him to be the goody-two-shoes his childhood home so plainly made him out to be.

he tells you, himself, how college had changed him, how freedom had changed him, how being admitted into the fraternity changed him, how parties, underage drinking, sex, how it all rewrote the person he used to be. he looks you in the eye and tells you how much he loved the thrill, the adrenaline, the popularity, the sheer magnitude of people he had swooning over him, at his feet, on their knees. he tells you he loved it and that he's not so sure if he loves it now.

"why the sudden change?"

jaemin could tell you that he doesn't know, really, that maybe he just grew up a little and saw his time wasted, that perhaps he realized all the fights he had with his parents were simply not worth it. or, he could tell you the truth.

"because of you."

"what do you mean?"

"i mean," he's scrambling to sit up straight now, so he can look you in the eyes. if he's going to do this, he's going to do it properly. his eyes level with yours, lips freshly licked, he dives in the deep end. "i think i just- i met you at your worst. and we talked, and we, i don't know, flirted, and everything was supposed to just pan out how it usually does. you know, in bed. but it didn't." you've sat up as well, feet hanging over the edge of his bed and barely scraping the floor. you reach to hold both his hands in yours, though you have not the slightest clue where he is going with this tangent. "it didn't, but even then, i- i never-" it seems that even he doesn't know.

jaemin's hands start to clam in yours but there's an underlying determination that still holds strong, he's nowhere near done. "i never stopped going after you, and not at all for the sex. i- it was really just for you."

your jaw unhinges itself, hand not bothering to cover, thoughts elsewhere. what you thought might've been his life-changing, inspirational, heart-spurring tale, is turning out to be something you were inexplicably unprepared for. your newly sprouted tears are at the brink of overflowing as you try to make sense of the mess your mind has already made for itself. the questions are almost pushed over the precipice of your tongue before jaemin clears the air with finality and a handful, of in-the-moment confidence.

"y/n," jaemin's fingers glide over your knuckles in half the rhythm of your heartbeat, "i met you at your worst and i think that somehow it made me realize that i was also at my worst. and i don't know what people have to say about two sad people falling in love, all i really know is that i like you. i really fucking like you."

as if on cue, you start crying right then. "fuck, jaem," you pull your hands from him to swipe at your face and he's moving onto the bed as he speaks, dumbfounded, "why are you crying, y/n? is this like a 'i like you back and i'm happy' or 'i don't like you back' kinda cry?" you throw your head back in unprecedented laughter as he takes you in his embrace. your head rocks back and rests on his shoulders, arms coming up to encase them. "it's a 'relieved that i'm not the only one' cry."

he draws back, hands still holding you at the waist, "so, i'm taking that to mean you like me back?" you lick your lips, "maybe...possibly, you'll have to find out on your own." jaemin shakes his head, the back of his right hand coming up to caress the apples of your cheek. chuckling he retorts, "you're saying that like i don't already know. eunmi kinda let it slip a few weeks ago."

"she what?!"

"well, she kinda said that you were falling for me or something like that."

"well," you stop, in confoundment of being left in utter betrayal, "well, she's wrong. tell her that i said she's wrong."

"but you-"

"no, fuck what i just said, she's wrong."

"i- okay," jaemin watches you fall back onto your back with a huff, he follows shortly. the ceiling the both of you stare at and beyond is rightfully comforting after a week that just happened to start well, go well, end well. maybe love is your forte, after all, loving yourself after all that's happened, loving others despite all that might go wrong, anything to do with love. you suppose the getting dumped the eighth time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. and boy were you glad you did just that.

jaemin is cutting fruit when it first begins to snow. apples are especially delectable in the winter, he knows he's bound to love them even more after this one winter. you're on the couch when it begins to snow, just shy of beating your long-withstanding high score on some game you were admittedly terrible at. jaemin joins you on the couch with the plate of apples, moments after it beings to snow.

"jaem," your lay a hand on his thigh, your sights elsewhere, "look, it's snowing."

you're scrambling to get a scarf around your neck, your boots zipped, the turtleneck underneath your coat pulled to your chin. the sky is almost dark, sunset not entirely visible under the veil of clouds. jaemin can't decide what is more enlightening, the snow or you and the ear-splitting grin that takes up half your expression. he decides that it's you.

you aren't even allotted the time to make snow angels before his lips are on yours. it's not the first time the two of you have kissed but neither of you will deny how different it feels. jaemin guesses it's because the way his lips move against your is fueled by untainted adoration and he suspects the same from you. he molds them steadily, wanting to take delight in the feeling for as long as hig lungs would permit. specks of snow dust the crests of your cheeks and the tail ends of his eyelashes. they heat in contact with your skin and begin their descent, deliquescing as they stray down the curves of your cheeks, meeting at your mouth that so fervently moving again jaemin's. it's where the cold melts of snow meet the warm mix of salivation.

you wield all the experience you will ever need, yet, it feels like it's your very first kiss, butterflies stirring down in your tummy and all. it never ends, it really doesn't. not when he first parts for air, or when you part the time after that, or even when you notice his mom, hands on her hips, from the window, or when the snow begins to clot at your feet.

you think you love him.

despite all the thoughts that tell you it's cheesy, it's boring, it's lame and conventional, you tell him on valentine's day.

the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing and as what is now considered usual, neither you nor jaemin are eager in partaking in it, opting to simply hang out in his room, above the loud music and the moans from the opposite ends of all four walls. the door is locked this time and instead of joining the crowd in the main event of fucking each other senseless, the two of you have a small setup on his bed, littered with textbooks, previous exam papers, a fancy charcuterie board, courtesy of the dedicated chef, jaemin himself. you're on your back, feet hitched upon the headboard and laptop positioned at a ninety degree angle on your ninety degree angled legs. jaemin is on the floor rather, using the bed as a makeshift table even though he has an actual table not two feet away.

"i wish we could go to your dorms, it's loud as fuck." in response, you heave a sigh, mind now sidetracked from your work, "a pity i live on the fifth floor, we have no chance in sneaking you in." a thought dawns on him and he wonders why neither of you thought of it before, "let's go to the car."

it's quite the sight and you're sure anyone who's actively paying attention would laugh. jaemin's arms are locked straight up, supporting yours, his computer, and three textbooks, as he navigates the swarm of people to the exit. you're, following in tow, arms held up in similar fashion but instead of a stack of books, you're hoisting the charcuterie board, still abundant with cheese and grapes and a dip of honey. the threat of everything toppling over is very much apparent.

he'd driven a little ways down his street so that the buzz of the party could be left fully behind. the only thing aiding your studying is now the low-grade yellow lights that come with the fold down mirrors. "holy shit, jaem," your mouth waters even as it anticipates its next bite. "what?" he glances over at you. the charcuterie board is hiked on your knees that are drawn to your chest, makeshift tables are all too common today it seems. all the cheese on the board have an identical bite on them, a result of your taste testing but it seems that only one has drawn your liking so much so that you have eaten most the portion provided. "this- the- what's this one?"

"petite jalapeño, why?"

you cover your mouth as you chew hurriedly, "it's so fucking good, babe, with the honey. oh my god, i love you." you've finished chewing but you don't notice what's left your mouth, definitely not food.

"you what?"

you're thoughtlessly thrown into his trap, "i love- fuck."

"you love fuck."

"wait no."

you put the plate on the dashboard, dusting off your hands while your cheeks dust rose under the dingy lights. "i- wait, yeah i," you shift a leg under you, turning to your boyfriend but refusing to look him in the eye. you speak to the outlines of the house two down from his, "i guess i do love you."

"y/n, look at me."

you shy away from him, embarrassed yet overcome with the sudden wash of feelings. you knew this, you do love him, so why is it so hard to voice aloud? he brings his hand to your chin, leans it towards him until you have no choice but to gaze into his loving stare. truth be told, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"i love you too."

your fingers play with your bottom lip, thrusting it up and down, left and right as you mull over which picture to post. "bummer, i look great in this one but you're blinking. ugh." swiping to the next one, you find that it's the last. "here," jaemin unlocks his phone with one hand, holds it out for you, "i think i have some that jaein took, she's better at taking pictures than jeno anyways." taking the device from him, you click into his photos and find the last two hundred or so to be just of you and the lavender fields, he hasn't changed a bit.

jaein does have a lot more sense, "wow my legs look so long in this one," and "geez, that hair flip was entirely unintentional, i must be a natural." jaemin rolls his eyes at that, one hand of his on the wheel while the other makes its way over to your thigh, rubbing a soft, distracted massage.

the first red flag that draws your attention. you're airdropping a cumulative 54 photos to your own phone when you see a name that you had long forgotten in his top three message chats, minyoung. you ignore it. you post the picture. you edit the caption seven times, each time becoming more indecisive than the last while jaemin gives you the incredulest of looks.

you decide to stay at his place for the night, not that it's an inconvenience to drive the extra two minutes back to your place, but just because he wants to spend the night with you. there's no objections, why would there be?

the second red flag that draws your attention. jaemin's showing you something on his phone, a video of a dog maybe, you've forgotten. the text that drops down while the two of you huddle over the screen holds your interest far longer. it's minyoung and she's telling him to come over. you're slightly alarmed, you're boyfriend even more so. he draws his phone back instantly, to your dismay, and you almost want to snatch it from him, to delve into the depths of the chat. you really almost do.

"jaem, what did i just see?"

"y/n, it's not what you think," it irks you that he's so quick to defend. you keep your head on cool for now, "okay, then what was it about?" his eyes shift from yours to the wall behind you, you're surprised they're lined with annoyance. he shakes his head, "nothing."

you're thinking it's all the more reasonable for you to be the one who's annoyed. you bit down harsh on your lip, refusing to give way to any of your many impulses, "if it's nothing then why can't you tell me?"

jaemin glances over at you, fleetingly, "i- it's not something you should be worried about. just, trust me, will you?" rubbing your hands down the fabric of your- his sweatpants, you utter a sigh, not sure of how much longer, how many more times you have to be left in the dark, for you to snap at him. you hope it isn't soon. "jaem, i trust you, i do. but that doesn't mean i'll believe everything you say blindly." you note that, for whatever reason, his pupils are shaking. "at least, not after what i just saw."

"then i don't know what to say. you have to trust me on this."

na jaemin has never been stubborn, or, he's never had a reason to be. everything goes accordingly to the way he wants to, that's how it's always been. maybe it's because of his endearing charms that teachers can never fail him, that compliments are always showered upon him. perhaps it's the way he flatters that makes him so likeable, befriending people is as easy as reciting the alphabet when you've frequented too many parties and met too many people. he knows that when he kisses up, people will bow down, he's never been rejected. it's definitely because of his good looks that girls always spilt their legs open for him, they never say no.

na jaemin gets what he wants, except when he doesn't.

"no."

you leave because you have trust issues, sure, who doesn't, who cares. who cares if there are tears streaming down your face for seemingly stupid reasons? it isn't the first time, it's nowhere near the first time. it's the same feeling you had when you realized your first boyfriend wasn't going to reply back, there's still a read seven years ago below your text. the same feeling when you saw your second kissing your 'best friend.' still all those years ago, when you were two steps away to the lunch table when you heard your third whisper to his friends, "just a stupid bet with a stupid girl." when your fourth told you he lost feelings for you when you were still madly in love with him and when you had to found out from your oldest sister that your fifth was her classmate, in grad school, while you were still in your last year of high school, not even old enough to vote. your sixth trying to strip you of your virginity right after you agreed to be his girlfriend and your seventh basically forgetting you existed. you were getting the same fucking feeling all those months ago when you finally realized your rightful position as 'replacement,' as 'number 2,' as 'poor soul.' maybe distrust is simply inbred in you and though you know the prospects of yours and jaemin's relationship are far from over, you can't deny the gut feeling that your bad luck in men is coming back to haunt you, that it's never left in the first place.

na jaemin forgets that he has a past he can't erase, just like you. the girls he's fucked over the past three years have hearts and they have reasons they began to fuck him in the first place. he couldn't heal their hearts, nor his, but sex did a great deal, made a great deal of people jealous, gave him all he needed at the time. he never expected them to simply go away when he decided to settle down but it seems that his reputation holds so much worth that it's proving hard to overcome it himself. jaemin hates that you date the campus fuckboy, he hates that people still whisper in your ear that he's fucking so-and-so in the dead of night. he hates that he can't get rid of the stigma around his name, even though you know, through and through, that he can't nearly live up to it anymore. you know yet, you leave because of it. his reputation. na jaemin, certified eye candy and delectable dick, wishes he was anyone but himself.

her bare feet shuffling down the hall is the only thing she hears. she wishes they let people wear shoes on the second floor so she could've busted her heels out and clacked her way to his room. she needs the rush of empowerment right now. she needs it.

the next thing she hears is the sound of raised voices right as she is about to shove the door open, the door fifth on the left of the hall to the right of the stairwell, exactly where you'd told her he'd be, albeit reluctantly.

eunmi is taken aback now that she recognizes one of the voices behind the door. minyoung. gritting her teeth, she presses her ear to the wood, careful to keep quiet.

"so you're fucking her now? is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"minyoung, i'm not fucking her. we're dating, it's been that way for awhile," he sounds exasperated, maybe, eunmi can almost see the crease in his brows.

"why didn't you bother to ask me if i was fine with it? we had a thing going, you can't just bail on me like that."

"the only thing we had going was quick fucks every thursday. i'm sorry, but i don't think that's much of a relationship."

her voice is growing impatient, in desperation like she's grasping at loose strings, hanging on to whatever she can find, "this little bitch- does she even know? how much of a dick you are? are you just going to leave her like you did me?"

"stop, minyoung, please,"

but eunmi guesses her point is valid nonetheless, she herself doesn't think very highly of him. "how would she feel if i told her that? that leaving is your specialty? you can fuck me, and all my friends and leave, thinking that we'd never know, but we know, okay? and if you- if you ever think that you'll be satisfied with settling down for this chick, think again jaemin."

eunmi backs into the restroom across the door, for good measure and good sense because minyoung is storming out the second after, unaware of her eavesdropper. a minute and a glimpse later, she knows that jaemin is crouched by the foot of his bed, though she's unsure why.

she braves herself because she's here for answers. reappearing at his door, she calls softly as if raising a white flag, "hey there." jaemin's head snaps up instantaneously in surprise. "oh, hi, what're you doing here?" he lowers himself to sit on the floor and eunmi takes the spot in front of him, wariness in her movements.

"well, i came here for y/n, obviously, but um, i just happened to hear-" she's cut off when jaemin lets out a low groan into his hands. eunmi makes her stance a little clearer now that she has a better feel of the situation, "i'm not here to break up with you for her or anything. she didn't really want me to come, but i guess, i guess i came because we've also had our fair share of...disagreements that i think we should set straight," she pauses, hands fiddling with her thumbs in her lap, "i'm sorry if this is too much after, all that."

he looks relieved at that, "no, it's fine. i- i'm glad you want to, i don't know, make up. i haven't really been all that great of a friend these past years anyway."

eunmi lets a smile slip at that, what an interesting turn of events, "so...friends?"

"friends."

"and just to set the record straight, you're not still fucking minyoung right?"

jaemin rolls his eyes, shakes his head, gesticulates with his hands, "no, i got y/n. she's all i really need." eunmi nods to fill the awkward silence that follows. she's reminded of another inquiry, "so why didn't you just tell her that?"

"i guess i just didn't want her to worry or like- or get involved with my past, stuff like that. i kinda hated how it's dredged up all the time, especially now that i've, i don't know, settled down, committed."

"should've just told her," eunmi deadpans.

"i really should've," jaemin agrees.

"need me to drive you?" jaemin's extra careful with his words today, post-arguments can be fickle, particularly if they're only halfway resolved. your voice is muffled on the other end, "no, i'll walk." jaemin's wishes he'd insisted it instead of simply offering, late spring rains weren't all that uncommon, and even more so when the skies are darkening as they are on this specific day. "it might rain though," he tries again. you decline again, "i'll manage, thank you."

he sees you in ten, fifteen minutes or so, and sure enough, you're drenched head to toe, staring up at him with eyes that bear in mind the tension that hangs in between you and also border the bounds of laughter at how you're dripping wet with no one to blame but yourself. jaemin bites back the 'i told you so' and hurries to get you dried off with a towel, changed, and under the sheets. by then, the tension has subsided considerably.

"you wanna talk about it?"

you're tired, though it hasn't even struck five on the clock, "i thought that's what i'm here for."

"so, i'm not fucking her-"

"nice to know-"

"-just had some loose ends to tie up-"

"-and did you?" jaemin supposes you're far too tired to be emitting the same, resolute aggressions as a few days prior seeing as you're keeping your voice to a minimum and the words that come out are straight to the point, blunt. he does his best to reflect the same straightforwardness.

"i did, she's...off my back, our back...our backs."

you give him a look, scrunch your nose, and tug him by the arms into you. there's a blanket separating you two but he fits exactly against you anyways. you wonder how anyone could ever get in between the two of you if you so perfectly mold alongside him. the bridge of his nose nuzzles down your neck and you're laughing because it doesn't get any better than this, really.

he shuts the light on the bedside table off with an inattentive hand, the blankets are drawn back and he's pulled flush into you. his body heat is welcome on a frigid night and the blanket that falls back on top of him seals the both of you within the confines of his bed for the hours to come. you're starting to think that coming here was more just to cuddle than it was to make up with him.

"i can't get enough of you," his face is in your neck.

"and why is that?"

"because- because everything about you- i feel like i'd be missing out if i never tried to start something with you," he buries himself further in your scent, "it's like i emptied my heart out just so you could fill it back up."

your chin rests on the crown of his head, it tickles him when you speak, now in half wakefulness, "could say the same for you."

jaemin whispers into your ear, breath fanning down onto your neck, words that will only ever be for you, "i would not have you otherwise."

jaemin spent your spring break at your hometown, to meet your parents, both of which loved him dearly. he wouldn't dare voice it aloud but he thinks it's the sweetest that your mother holds you, her youngest daughter, in such high-esteem after bringing home who she thinks to be the 'most gorgeous man alive,' an utterance he was sure was not meant for him to hear.

he likes being the 'most gorgeous man alive,' especially if you were the one who thought so, but as he watches you stare intently at the flynn rider's jawline, his own jaw clenches. tangled is playing as the pre-movie for movie night, the movie that plays before people actually start to arrive since, donghyuck and eunmi are always destined to be at least an hour late. but it's not that that gets him the most riled up that night, riled up isn't even the right word. maybe agitation, at whoever thought it was a good idea to invite mark lee. mark fucking lee, the grad student. the whoever turns out to be chenle and although jaemin does not have it in him to beat the kid up, he is sure as hell watching over the dude from the moment he walks in to the moment he leaves.

more than that, he also keeps his eyes on you as well, tracing your expression with every word his goddamned senior ought to speak. "hey, y/n, how have you been?" jaemin glares. as far as his detective senses go, he figures that marks target for the night isn't you, but rather eunmi. he hopes he can get over this as quickly and neatly as possible. your face twitches into a smile, uncomfortable, he thinks. "fine, i've been fine. you?" jaemin wants to draw you back and tell you that you had no obligation to be so polite, that the 'fine' would have done its job splendidly on its own.

"pretty good myself, looks like things have been happening around here, huh," jaemin hates the way he wriggles his eyebrows, "hyuck and eunmi, you and him." jaemin hates how he just referred to him as 'him,' surely, there was a lot more due respect than that. "yeah, and jeno and jaein but that's-"

"oh psh, old news," the two of you laugh, you laugh with him, with him. jaemin is just about ready to throw hands when mark excuses himself to get a seat on the floor, serves him right, he thinks. you look comparatively calm next to the raging boy. why is he the only one bothered by this?

"you good there? didn't even say a word to him."

he gulps, "yeah, i'm great. just didn't feel like talking."

you're staring at him like you can see right through him, that's exactly the case, "i'm over him, you know?" jaemin scratches at his neck, "yeah, i know." head on his shoulder as the first official movie of the night plays, you sigh, "no need to get all worked up, i'm all yours."

the twentieth century fox theme plays in the background of the romance novel you live in. na jaemin makes you feel that way, unfailingly, every single day. it's written in the ways he kisses you, lovemarks blooming under your skin. it's written in the way he stares at you, with nothing else except pure, unadulterated love. it's written in between the lines, his actions, his thoughts, everything that amounts to so much more than the past years of deprivation you've had to endure. it's written in the stars, out in the countryside where jaemin could never fake a smile, not in the presence of you. with you by his side, not in a million years.

it's here. summer fucking break is finally here. and if there's anything to prove that, it's the way you're currently sitting in a car with all your friends. taking a short little road trip out to the beach. now, mind you, these are the same friends that were there on your drunkest nights, slumped over bar counters and blatantly asking for any hot guy's number. the same friends that accompanied you on your most sober nights, holed up in your single-person dorm room, trying to study for an exam for a class you could never wake up in time for. and among those friends is one who has an added prefix, your boyfriend, na jaemin, who's in the driver's seat per your request since your carsickness prevented you from any other seats and you really wanted him by your side. jaemin didn't seem to mind driving, after all, he was next to you.

the sun is setting too fast and eunmi, sitting in the seat in the far back, complains that they'd have to set up the bonfire right away instead of getting to play in the warm water while it's warm. donghyuck, beside her, is complaining too, but not about the bonfire or even the trip in general, but about eunmi and her legs which are hoisted on his lap, something about how his dingaling needs to breath. jaein, in the seat right behind you is musing on about how she thinks it'll be funny when they arrive and see yeseul and renjun's car torn up in two, neither of them could ever get along. jeno, to her left, is fussing with rubbing sunblock on her, getting angry at how her hair could never stay out of his way.

you glance over at jaemin who has this smile on his face. this smile that makes it seem like he's in adoration of the whole scene panning out in the rearview mirror. he takes a glance over at you too and, if even possible, his smile beams wider, straight pearly whites and all. his hand finds yours.

it's already dark when the eight of you arrive but eunmi isn't complaining anymore since the boys make quick work in getting the bonfire set up while letting the girls play in the water. the ocean water licks at your feet as you watch eunmi and yeseul duel in how much water they could spray at each other, jaein sitting on the shore off to the side, watching as well. you're pondering going over to accompany her when eunmi's hand latches on your left arm and tugs the whole of you into the water with her. it's warm and wouldn't have been entirely unwelcoming had you gotten a notice in advance.

you make fun in chasing them around, kicking up water in eunmi's face one too many times that she begins to choke on the saltiness. yeseul is now on the shore yelling at renjun. and jaein is doing her best with a tent. eunmi, who's back you were currently rubbing, is almost through with her fit and you think the mischievous face she's pulling means another round but she brings up a question instead, "how's he in bed?"

she's right if she assumed you'd chuck another armful of water in her face.

you sigh in annoyance as jaemin tosses the towel over your head once again, unsatisfied with how the tips of your hair were still wet. his fingers are ruffling fast and making quick work to dry the strands but you're upset. "jaemin, babe, we've been standing here for ten minutes, can i go now?" your head resurfaces as he gives the towel one more tug, smiling, "just making sure you don't get sick." he follows as you duck into your shared tent to get ready for the bonfire. "shit, jaem. i didn't bring an extra top," you frown but he only smiles wider and grabs his hoodie from the ground beside the sleeping bags. "lucky for you, then," he tugs the article of clothing over your head, only speaking again once your eyes peek out, "because i love seeing you wear my clothes."

you give him a nose scrunch in return but every word of his, every single word that comes from his mouth is enough to get you swooning. you follow him out the tent.

"so," donghyuck's eyes are playful in the light of the fire, "what game are we playing today?" jeno groans, "do we always have to play some sort of game? why can't we just like…" even he's unsure of what to do. the eight of you are situated around the blazing fire that's, not quite large enough to be a bonfire, but does its job in keeping you warm. jaein perks up after much deliberation, "how about...we go around and each make a wish?"

donghyuck huffs, "fine by me." it starts with jeno, and though you truly value each and every one of your friends' wishes, there's only one that you really remember for the rest of the night, the day, the week, the month, and the years to come. jaemin clears his throat, the rest of the group watching him including you, the you he turns to. you're huddled over on the log beside him, wrapped up in his hoodie and hair an absolute mess. your eyes are heavy and he already knows that once everyone decides to call it a night, you will be the first to leave. you're looking at him in tired anticipation and mild interest, he hopes what he has to say tells you all he needs you to know.

"i already have you, so there's nothing left to wish for."

the rest of the group breaks off into 'oohs' and 'ewws' but you swear that you and jaemin, jaemin and you are stuck in your own little world. his gaze is incredibly soft and endearing, you scoot closer and place a head on his shoulder, his hand coming around your frame in automatic response. leaning into his warmth, you feel closest to home than you ever have before.

jaemin carries you to sleep later that night. and even later that night, or rather early in the morning, when you rustle awake, he's aroused by you as well. the two of you sit on a towel atop the dry sand, right before where the tides ride up the shore. basked in the moonlight, jaemin's skin beams a pale sheen and his eyes are cast over darkly, ethereally, divinely. your head is still on his shoulder and you feel the words vibrate through you when he speaks, "did you have fun today?"

you tuck a lip under your front teeth and nod for him to feel. he asks another question, "how are you feeling?" this time, you aren't able to part with just a shake of your head so you sit up, eyes never leaving the push and pull of the sunless ocean, "i feel...happy."

he looks over at you, not in surprise but in interest, "happy? why do you feel happy?" you shrug almost, musing off whatever comes to mind first, "i don't know, school just ended, this trip, summer break. i have a lot of reasons to be happy." jaemin isn't sulky at that but he does his best to pull his name from you, "and what about me?"

you dare a glance over at the man next to you, his eyes already boring into yours, "well, you too, of course." looking away as quickly as you'd looked over, you mumble quietly, "actually, more because of you than anything." in your peripheries, you see him give you a look that speak 'that's what i thought' and you clip down your smile in favor of a shake of your head.

moving from your spot, you surprise jaemin when you block his view of the seaside. he settles you down into his lap with familiar control, arms cradling you tight to his chest. hand on his neck, you trace it up to his cheek and guide his head down to face yours. jaemin leans in for a soft kiss, lips suckling at your bottom as your teeth tug on his top, slow but sensual, tired but sweet. you pull away for a breath but it's as if he doesn't need to breathe anymore because he chases after your lips almost instinctively. soft kiss after soft kiss is all that's needed for you to pluck up your courage and look him in the eyes, lips detached, and speak the truth your heart has been singing in your ears all along. "jaem," his eyes are hazy as they find yours in the dim light. somewhere in the back, the sun is peeking over the horizon in all its glory but neither of you pay it any mind. "yes, love?" he brushes the hairs from your face, fingers gliding across your cheeks and then fumbling with your bottom lip with his thumb. you blink and you speak.

"i've been waiting for you all my life."

you think back over the past seven months, a little over half a year, that you've had this man in your life, five months of which he was your boyfriend. you wonder how you could've fallen so fast in such a short amount of time. then again, love is rarely ever about how short or how long. it's more about the timing in which everything falls into place, the intensity by which each person loves, their pasts and how willing they are to erase it. falling in love is not about getting it right the first time, to find someone to be your first and last. for you particularly, jaemin is your ninth, and though the prospects of him being your last are still far from true, you know in your heart and in your mind and in every part of your living being that with each coming second, he's a second closer to becoming your last.

✧ end note — if my ex ever sees this, though i truly doubt he will, he gon know i stole one of his lines for jaemin. the wish one. yeah...he always had his way with words, that's about all he had though. but hey, it makes a hell of a good line in this story. i hope you had a good time reading this piece, it was such a pleasure to write. i will see you guys when i wake up for class in three hours hehe. with all the love in the world, rouiyan

#nct jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin x reader #neo-constellations #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct fics #nct jaemin fluff #jaemin fics #jaemin angst #na jaemin #nct jaemin fics #maxed the shit out of that 15k #very lightly proofread #will go over later #enjoy for now #<3 #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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meigh-day · 3 years

Text

Mine (Bokuto x F!Reader)

Title: Mine

Pairing: Time Skip Bokuto x F!Reader

Characters: Bokuto, Atsumu, Hinata, Sakusa, Female Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, Mild angst to fluff

Status: Complete

Word Count: 5k

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"Hey, Y/N?"

The sound of running water and a voice at your side brought your hazy thoughts back to the present. You hummed a response as your eyes focused, widening at the sight of water overflowing into the basin. "Ah, shit..."

"You ok?" Atsumu tilted his head at you, concern lightly pulling at his features. He watched you hurriedly turn off the tap and replace the cap on the bottle before giving him your attention.

"Mhm, I'm fine." A smile trails onto your lips, as you offer up lies of reassurance. You were fine. Sorta. Good enough to be at practice anyway. Sure, your head was dully throbbing and you felt far too warm on such a cool day. But yea you were fine. The blonde setter made a small sound of disbelief as he pressed his hand to your cheek.

"Fine huh?" He frowned down at you. "Do ya think I'm an idiot? What are ya doing here when yer sick?"

He had a point. Why were you here when you were sick? It wasn't like this was an official practice. Some of the jackals had wanted to get in a little extra practice over the weekend and it's not like you had to even be here. So why had you taken time away from your days off to come? Well that was easy. A certain grey haired spiker was going to be there and the two of you just so happened to have plans to hang out later.

"Who else is going to take care of you guys?" You laugh, gathering up the bottles but before you can lift them they are already up and off the floor. "Hey..."

"Ya know it's a good thing Sakusa isn't here today... he'd have yer sick ass outta here so fast..." Atsumu settles the bottles into his arms and looks down at you as you stand.

"I know..." Your eyes shift to the side, your expression looking fairly pathetic.

He sighed. "Look if ya promise to take it easy then ya can stay for all I care."

You look up at him, a smile brightening your features. "Really?"

"Yeah yeah... I'll take care of water for the guys. Just relax and take notes or something."

"I will. Promise. Oh uhm... Atsumu?"

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A pair of golden eyes watched the two of you from around the corner. Watching as Atsumu gently caressed your cheek. Watching as you smile up at him. It was difficult to hear what the two of you were talking about, especially with Miya's back to him, but that way you responded spoke volumes. And if what he saw wasn't enough, the words that did reach his ears, sealed the deal.

"Hm?" Atsumu turned back to you as his name left your lips.

"Don't tell Bokuto."

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Bokuto stood, arms crossed and a look of irritation all over his features. The two of you were supposed to be hanging out together later. In fact the two of you had been spending quite a bit of time together outside of the team. At first the two of you just found yourselves together during team outings and before you knew it that had lead to exchanged numbers and a generic 'we should hang out sometime' sentiment. However, that sentiment had actually become a reality and soon the two of you were texting every night, having dinner together or going to a movie. Sometimes you'd just walk together after practice was over for the day. The time spent with you had started to become special to him but it was obviously not as special to you. Not with the way you had been smiling up like a lovesick puppy at that damned Miya idiot.

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"Bokuto!"

"Huh?" He turned at the call of his name but it was too late. He watched as the ball sailed by him and dropped to the floor, rolling under the net.

Hinata went running after it as Atsumu turned, hands on his hips. "I dunno what yer daydreamin about but if yer not gonna spike my sets then I'll send 'em to someone else."

Bokuto grit his teeth, turning wide angry eyes at the blonde setter, ready to let him have it but before he could get out a word he was interrupted.

"Ah, damn it. Hold that thought." Atsumu was watching you from across the court, gathering water bottles like the rebel you were. He proceeded to march past the angry grey haired spiker and over to you before he unceremoniously hauled the bottles from your arms.

"Ah, ah... We talked about this." You huffed at him, trying and failing to grab at the bottles while he easily swatted your hands away.

"Now settle down or else." He smirked at you as he glanced over to Bokuto and then back at you.

You followed his gaze, his implication clear. Consider your attention grabbed. With a pout, your hands drooped to your sides in defeat. "Yea yea, I'll just sit here and do nothing I guess..."

"Good." He smirked down at you and proceeded to give you a head pat before briskly exiting the gym.

With a sigh you picked up your notebook and pen, intent on at least taking some notes for the guys. Normally you tried to be more involved in their practices. Making sure they had enough water and towels, taking notes and even tossing balls for them. Just anything they might need. You really cared about each of them and wanted to see them all do well, so it was annoying that you couldn't do much else except take notes and sit down without Miya noticing and mothering you. Though there was a small part of you that was thankful for his watchful eye, just gathering the water bottles had kinda taken it out of you and you were starting to wondering if it had really had been a bad idea coming today.

As you turn back to the court you are met by a pair of crossed arms and a frown. A smile immediately spreads across your lips. "Hey Bo."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes lighting up, whenever he was near. What had definitely started as a friendship had started to turn into something else, at least for you. You always had so much fun with him, didn't matter what you were doing, you were just happy to be with him.

He does not return your smile, in fact his frown only seems to deepen at the sight of it. "So you're getting Miya to do all your work?"

"What? No. He...uh...just..." You stammer a little trying to think of a plausible excuse without exposing the fact that you were sick to the one person you were trying to keep it from.

Bokuto let out an annoyed huff as he looked away. "I really don't care. Just try to keep the flirting to a minimum."

"Flirt... What? Bo it's not like that."

"No? Then why are you even here today? It's just an extra practice, no reason for you to have come in the first place." Your expression fell at this words. While making plans to hang out you had offered to come along to practice since you were free anyway and, at the time, Bokuto had eagerly agreed. Now it seemed like he was regretting any and all enthusiasm he'd once expressed at the idea.

"I just wanted to help you guys out today." Your voice came out a little quieter than normal. It was true, your intentions weren't totally selfless for being here. You took every chance you could to be around Bokuto, even if it was merely watching from the bench as he practiced. He was such a beautiful person inside and out but there was something special about watching him playing that made him really glow. However, your doubts at coming today began to flood back in as he questioned your presence.

"By what? Sitting around doodling in your notebook? Honestly, y/n if you aren't going to do your actual job then you should just go home. We don't need you here."

We don't need you here...

Don't need you here...

Don't need you...

Go home.

His words felt like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. "You don't..." The rest of the words died on your tongue as you saw his irritated expression staring you down. "Oh." You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes lower, willing the tears that were stinging your eyes not to fall.

You take in a slow breath as you slip the notebook into your bag. This was not how you had seen your day turning out. You'd wanted to spend time with the team and do your best to help them. Then you'd hoped to end the day with Bokuto, someone who had become really special to you, but now you were left holding back tears as you turned back to him. "I, uh, " You feel your voice waiver and think better of whatever you had been about to say. " Sorry..." The apology is quick, almost as quick as the bow you offer up before hurrying out of the gym.

There are two pairs of eyes watching as you leave and both are confused. Bokuto lets out a sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair. He was already regretting this. It's not like you were his girlfriend and yet here he was being a total ass to you just because you were getting friendly with Miya. It shouldn't bother him so much but it did. He likes you. Liked you? Likes... Shit. After a moment he turns and start across the gym, his mind in disarray.

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Atsumu wanders back in several minutes later, water and towels in hand. He sets them down on the bench, noting your absence on the bench as well as within the gym itself. Hinata grins at the blonde as he picks up one of the bottles. " Thanks Atsumu!"

"Mhm. Shoyo, where's Y/N?"

Hinata freezes a moment, opens his mouth and then closes it before quickly glancing around. Atsumu isn't sure what the hell this kid is doing, its almost like he didn't realize she was gone and is frantically looking around. Hinata was in fact looking around, but not for Y/N, he was merely making sure it was just the two of them before he spoke. "Oh, uh, she went home."

"Oh yea? Good. She shouldn't have come in the first place." Hinata went to open his mouth, an objection ready on his lips but then Atsumu continued. "She must like him an awful lot to come here sick on her day off..."

"Sh... Wh... Huh? Y/N is sick?!"

Atsumu looked down at the surprised red-head. " Yea. Isn't that why she left?"

Hinata pressed his lips together as his gaze travelled across the gym.

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"What the hell is wrong with ya?!" Bokuto glanced up in time to see the approaching blonde heave a bottle at him, a curse falling from his lips as he fumbled to catch it.

"I.. what?"

"Don't pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! I heard what ya said to Y/N you ass!" Atsumu yelled as he followed up the bottle with a towel.

The towel sailed across the small space between them and hit Bo square in the face, the larger man just having managed to get his hands on the bottle. "Knock it off Miya!" Bo grumbled as he pulled the towel off his head before tossing it onto the ground.

"Where do ya get off talkin to Y/N like that? Sendin' her off like she's some huge inconvenience."

Bokuto lets out a huff, muttering something under his breath as he turns his face away from the setter. Atsumu narrows his eyes at the man before him. "What the hell do ya have to be grumbling about you big idiot! Yer not tha one who got yelled at. She only came in today to try and help and ya sent her home like she'd done some terrible thing!" Atsumu crossed his arms, annoyance clear all over his face as he started to turn away." I don't get why she likes ya so much... Comin’ here on her day off... and sick too."

Bokuto was already feeling badly about what he had done even before the setter had come over to scold him. He hadn't meant anything he'd said. It didn't matter to him why you had come in, he was just happy to see you. He had been looking forward to seeing you after practice to hang out and maybe finally tell you how he really felt. But he'd let jealousy rear its ugly head and his harsh words had sent you away.

He watched as Atsumu started to walk away, the setter’s final words hanging heavy on his shoulders. You were sick. Sick?! Bokuto's eyes widen, his feet moving as he grabbed for the other man. "Sick? Y/N is... sick?" Atsumu turned, his annoyance softening a little at the stricken look on Bokuto's face. "Yea. I tried to get her to go home earlier but she was keen on stayin'... Wanted to see you..." He paused as he pressed his lips together and shook his head as he looked Bokuto up and down. "...for some reason." Bokuto let his hand fall away, the setter merely sighing as he gave him a pat on the shoulder before striding across the gym.

A moment later the doors to the gym open to reveal a rather damp Sakusa. He stalks into the gym, swipes a towel off the bench and starts drying himself off. "What happened to you?" Miya smirks at the man who simply returns a glare. "It's fucking pouring outside you dumbass." Atsumu tries and fails to catch the wet towel before it hits him in the face.

"Raining?!" Bo appears before them, worry etched into his features. Sakusa merely offers a grunt of affirmation before disappearing into the change room. The two men left behind exchange glances before turning their gaze to the doors.

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You had managed to make it out of the gym and almost a whole street away before tears started to slowly trail down your cheeks. Today was supposed to be special. You were going to go to practice, hang out with Bo afterwards and maybe, just maybe, finally confess your feelings. But now you were walking home, kicked out by the very person you had gone to see, and now you were crying. It felt like everything good about the day had turned sour and now all that was left was a bitter feeling that seemed to grow heavier with each step. In fact it seemed so heavy that you almost felt like you were having trouble walking. It's not like you were sick and probably had a fever and because of that your steps were much more sluggish. Nope, definitely not.

You wiped at your tears with your sleeve, letting out a heavy sigh as you trudged along the side walk. A moment later you felt one and then another slide down your cheek and you wiped those away too. It did strike you as a little strange, you were pretty sure you had stopped crying. As that thought struck you another drop fell on your cheek, and then another, it was only when you looked up that you realized it had started to rain.

Within a few minutes the small droplets that had started to fall turned into a downpour. You were running, your bag held over your head, as you tried to search for some shelter to wait out the rain. You're apartment was too far to keep going in this weather and your body was starting to feel fuzzy. Well your head was at least. Despite the cool air and even cooler rain that feel you felt too warm.

Finally, a small bit of luck came your way in the form of a park. There were several large trees that would do rather nicely to at least partially shelter you from the rain. You hurried under the nearest one, leaning against it as you let your bag drop to the ground and try to catch your breath. With each sharp inhale more dots began to dance in your vison. Your shaky legs deposited you at the base of the tree and as your vison goes black, your body going limp, you swear you hear someone calling your name.

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Heavy footsteps pound on the sidewalk as Bokuto frantically searches for you. He knew the route you took home each day, he's walked it with you enough that he could practically walk it blindfolded. He had tried calling and texting you before racing out of the gym. Even now, in the rain, he had his phone to his ear in another attempt to get a hold of you. With each failed attempt the guilt dug further into his stomach. The things he had said kept repeating in his mind. How could he say such mean words, such lies?! Truth was the team did need you there. He needed you there. It didn't matter if you just sat on the sidelines doing absolutely nothing, just you being there was all he needed.

With a sigh he taps the call button one more time. " Please… please answer." He begs to the air as the ringing starts again. A small distance away, a melody can be heard playing in time with each ring in his ear. At first Bokuto thinks nothing of it but as it gets louder with each step he finds his already fast pace increasing. A moment later he sees you, huddled under a tree to hide from the rain, but the tiny moment of relief he felt is gone in an instant as he sees you collapse. The only thing he utters is your name as he runs across the grass, dropping to your side and pulling your trembling body into his arms.

"Oh my god. Y/N?!" He takes in your appearance, drenched from the sudden downpour and cheeks flushed against your otherwise pale skin. Bokuto can feel tears in his eyes as he looks down at you in his arms. It was his fault you were out here in the first place instead of warm and dry inside the gym. Hell if he'd bothered to actually pay attention to you today instead of wallowing in jealousy maybe he would have seen you were sick and you'd be home, safe and comfortable. Because of him you were much worse off. Bo shook his head and grit his teeth. This was not the time to be floundering in self-pity. He needed to get you somewhere safe and now. So with that goal in mind, he scooped you up into his arms and took off.

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

Every time you opened you eyes you saw him. It was like your mind was playing some awful joke on you yet you couldn't help but feel comfort at the sight. Your eyes wouldn't open long but when they did you were greeted by Bokuto's face, concern carved into each feature. Sometimes it almost felt like he was really there, his large hands gently pressing against your cheek or forehead, his normally boisterous voice gentle and soft as he reassured you that you were going to be ok.

Finally, your eyes did open and they stayed open. The room was dark except for a soft light coming from the table lamp beside you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, confusion and panic started to eat away at the sluggishness you had been feeling. This was not your room, not your blanket and, when you look down at yourself, not your clothes.

"What the fu--" You pause, your eyes settling on the figure at your side. Bokuto's large frame was hunched over the side of the bed, his head resting on the crook of one arm the other outstretched, hand resting over your leg. One more quick inspection confirmed this was Bokuto's room, his blanket and.... oh my god... his clothes. After a moment he started to stir, his yellow eyes slowly opening as he yawned.

"Morning..." You say quietly. He hums in response but then freezes, his eyes traveling up to yours and then he's on his feet. "Y/N?! You're awake!" He cries out, hand pressing against your cheek and then forehead before he grabs you by the shoulders. "I was so worried!" Before you can do or say a thing you find yourself crushed against his chest as he pulls you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said those things to you. We do need you, we always need you. We'd be nothing without you!" Bokuto relaxes his hold on you and you can feel him take a deep breath before speaking again, his voice coming out softer this time. "But as much as the team needs you... I-I need you." He whispered, pulling you tightly against his chest, one large hand firmly against your back while the other cradled your head. You relaxed into him, cheek pressed against the top of his shoulder as he whispered apologies into your hair while you softly trailed your hand up and down his back.

You felt your cheeks grow red from his confession and were thankful your face was hidden against him at the moment. "I hope you can forgive me Y/N. I was.. Well... I got jealous when I saw you talking to ‘Sumu and took it out on you. You don't deserve to be treated like that and I get it if you don't want to be friends or anything anymore but I promise I'll be better from now on."

He paused, almost holding his breath as he waited in the silence that followed. When you said nothing he felt his poor little heart breaking but he understood. He had been so mean to you and for no reason. After a moment he started to pull away, certain this must be a very awkward position to be in, when he felt your arms slide around his middle, your hand pressing into his back as you return the hug.

"Oh.. Uh.. You don't ---" Bokuto stammered before your slightly muffled voice broke through. "It's ok Bo. But you're right... I don't want to be friends anymore." You could feel his body stiffen in your arms at your admission and you could only imagine the heartbroken expression he must have on his face. You kept your arms around him and continued on. "I don't think I can keep being just your friend... I want to be more to you than that."

Bo released his hold around you, pulling away as he looked down at you, his own cheeks flushed at your confession. " You mean it?!" He looked so uncertain yet hopeful, like one word from you would break him down or build him up. You finally lean back and look up at him, a soft smile on your lips. "Bo, I've liked you for as long as I've known you. One bad day isn't going to change that." That was it, you could have simply nodded at him and he would have been elated but in just a few words you simultaneously filled his heart with joy and relief. Tears started to well in his eyes as he sniffled and you could feel your own tears wanting to fall.

"Hey now, no tears." You smiled up at him through your own glassy eyes, gently swiping a thumb across the apple of his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your soft touch before his own smile stretch across his lips. "Like you're one to talk." He peeked down at you before mimicking your action, his thumb coming away wet.

The two of you sat in each others arms a little longer, relishing in the new warmth and comfort your confessions had brought. As your thoughts began to settle, a new question began to bubble to the surface and curiosity begged to have it answered. "Uh, Bo?" You lean up and away a bit so you can see his face. He sits up as well, his arms releasing their hold on you only to have his hands searching for your own. "Hmm?" He looks at you expectantly but you find yourself a little distracted as you gaze down at your intertwined hands.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, uh right." You look down at yourself a moment, taking in the shirt and shorts that were obviously too big for you, before looking back up at him. "These are yours, right?" He nods in affirmation, a small blush on his cheeks as he notes how cute you look in his clothes.

"Uhm, " You pause, the question poised on your lips has your cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. " How...uh... That is to say.. Uhm... How did I... get in them?"

Bo smirked, watching you stutter through your question, almost too distracted by how adorable you are to really listen but after a moment his expression shifts to confusion. "Huh?"

You fidget around a little, not really wanting to repeat it. "How did I get in them? I... I don't remember changing myself so... did... You. Or?" You let the sentence trail off, too embarrassed by the implication of what you had said.

"What? No!" Bo laughed and then froze when he realized what you must have been thinking. "Oh my god!! No No no!! I didn't! I swear!" He was frantically waving his hands in front of him, his face red and eyes wide. "I would never... I mean not that I don't want to see.. Shit I mean not like this... Oh my god shut me up." He covered his face with both his hands in an attempt to hide just how embarrassed he was from the sudden word vomit.

You on the other hand were highly amused and trying not to laugh. "Bo. Bo?" You pull at his arm to try and reveal his very red face but he doesn't budge. "Hey, It's fine just tell me what happened. Honestly, the last thing I remember is being in the park. After that it's all a bit fuzzy." He peeks at you through his fingers and finally relents after you aim a sweet smile his way. He goes on to tell you how he found you and carried you to his place since it was much closer. How he wrapped you in about three blankets while he called one of his sister's over to help. She had been the one to change your clothes and dry you off while Bokuto paced like a nervous wreck in front of the bathroom door the entire time.

You made a mental note to thank her in the future but for now, with your curiosity sated, you felt the pull of sleep at your body. Bokuto noticed it too, watching as your eyes started to droop. "You should get some more rest. You're not fully recovered yet and I want to take my girlfriend on a date as soon as possible." His words had you nodding slowly, you knew you weren't fully recovered yet and sleep did sound nice, a date sounded even better. Wait. You pause and glance up at him, the drowsiness momentarily paused. "Girlfriend? On a date?" He grinned down at you, the soft sleepy smile on your lips warming his heart. "Mhm, now get some rest."

You can't help the silly lopsided grin on your face as you start to lay back down, sleep already tugging at your mind. "Bo?" He pauses, body halfway standing as he moved to get off the bed. "Stay with me?" You request has his heart squeezing. "I'm not going anywhere." He says as he starts to move back into the chair. "No.." You mumble, peeking an eye open at him and pointing beside you. "Here." Bokuto just about trips over himself when you make your request all the more clear. Both of your eyes open when you hear him stumble, the chair stuttering across the floor as he braces himself on it. He looks down at you to see you peering up at him, a small little pout on your lips. "Please?"

He drags a hand across his face and through his hair, his nerves feeling a little frazzled. "I- are you sure?" He finally asks, already noting how easily he's caving into to you. A smile breaks out across your sleepy face as you reach out to him with grabby hands. Well, how could he resist? Bokuto crawls into the bed beside you, a little unsure how much space to give you. You on the other hand are quick to wiggle over until you are nestled up against him, sleep and sickness throwing any shame you may have normally felt out the window. Taking a cue from you, he slips an arm under you and pulls you closer, your head now resting on his chest. He lays there listening to your breath start to even out, his free hand carefully pushing your hair away from your face, fingers gently twirling the ends.

This was not how either of you saw your day ending, or how you had planned to confess but somehow it seemed to work out just right. Maybe in the morning, when both your brains had recovered with some sleep and inhibitions were back, there might be lingering embarrassment from waking up in the same bed, from words you’d said or sleepy demands made. Though, none of that would matter. Not when, in the end, he gets to call you his and you get to call him mine.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #hinata #sakusa #x reader #msby #Bokuto kotaro

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