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ditttiii · 3 years

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gold rush. || kth {m}

⇢ summary: kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch?

⇢ genre: porn with feelings, soft smut, angst, is unresolved tension and feelings a genre?

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

⇢ word count: 4.4k

⇢ rating: explicit / 18+

⇢ theme: strangers to lovers, s2l!au

⇢warning/s: public/elevator sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (female receiving), lots of kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex? reader’s on the pill, swearing, tension and so much of it, unresolved-repressed feelings, taehyung is a certified dingus & reader is hopelessly smitten.

⇢ a/n: betaed by @yeojaa who owns my heart and is the most precious bean ever.

also have all my virtual, socially distanced cuddles @btsmosphere @papillonsgf @birbdae & @unoriginal-username15432. if it weren’t for their support this wouldn’t be out today. my gratitude knows no bounds ♡ also big thanks to taylor for the fic title.

banner by @chillingkoo & moodboard by @today-we-will-survive their art breathed life into this fic ♡ a belated birthday fic for one mr.kim taehyung & the beautiful @kerikaaria. this fic is also my submission for @thebtswritersclub january monthly project.

lastly, i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy it x 2021 here v go ♡

You wonder when the shame stopped making you hide behind a curtain of messy bed hair. When the smell of a man's cologne on you and a fruity fragrance on him started to feel normal; routine.

The elevator closes with a 'ping', and your eyes track the numbers as they descend, the warmth of another human, the soft puffs of his breath, warming your shivering, scantily dressed body.

"What happened to ‘she’s too old for me?’ " You grunt, slipping off your six inches of agony inducing footwear and pushing them to a corner.

"What happened to you not being jealous?" You can feel his smirk, oozing of self-assured nonchalance and smugness that would seem ugly on anyone but fits like a well-tailored suit on him. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he leans back, hands resting on the metal railing while his tall, lean body slouches lazily, almost invitingly, and you have to force your eyes away from tracing the curves of his pecs. It's a tempting sight, but you aren't about to give him any more ammo to goad you with. As it is, he already knows too much, is far too keen.

"Of your sugar mama? I don't think so."

Taehyung hums but doesn't refute the statement and the silence between you two stretches on. A burning ball of jealousy in your stomach continues to eat away at your peace, and with a clenched jaw, you allow your head to rest against the cool metal of the elevator and pretend that the proximity doesn't affect you.

It's always the same between you two, a constant game of tug and war, where one pulls too firmly, and then the other comes tumbling close until one of you comes back to your senses and then it's back to square one. Back to bickering and recounting the previous night’s escapades of half-truths and lies told from kiss-swollen lips and hooded gazes as you try your best to rile the other one up.

It's stupid. You are in your twenties and this isn't like you. The lying, the pretence that you are still seeing your ex-boyfriend and biting and sucking your own lip until it swells; until you look properly ravished; none of this is you.

You should have known the day he first stumbled into the elevator with a half-buttoned shirt and bite marks painted over the pale skin of his neck, a satisfied smirk curled on his dark pink lips, that he wasn't good for you. But no, like the absolute fool that you are, you fell for him. Fell knowing full well he wasn't yours to have, that back then you weren't his to have.

The elevator comes to a stop with a shudder. Your eyes, closed sometime during the descent, snap open and your feet pause when the sight of the closed doors grace you.

"You stopped the elevator." It's not a question, not when his hand is still hovering over the stop button, head tilted as his eyes stay trained on you.

"I did." He admits to a question you never asked.

Biting back a hiss at his insistence on being difficult, you twist on your heels, lips pulled into a smile whose edges sting like shards of a broken glass and parry, "And why did you do that, pray tell?"

He doesn't answer, just looks at you with that half-lidded gaze and his silence only infuriates you more, makes the back of your neck feel heated as an angry flush rises from your chest all the way up to your cheeks and with a few angry stomps you’re in Taehyung's space, barely a few inches left between you two.

"God!" You start, and the anger, the jealousy, the ugly ball of insecurity and lust and something you haven't quite found a name for yet all coagulate and rise up your throat, burning your heart in their wake until you are hurting and seething. “I don’t get you, nor do I want to anymore!" The words tumble out, one after another and half thought out but your chest still burns and the ugly ball still feels scorching hot in your throat and you can't bring yourself to stop, to shut up and think. "Stop doing this. Stop flirting with me and stop looking at me with those hooded eyes of yours and for the love of god, do you really need to lick your lip that often? Why don't you carry a lip balm if your lips are that dry, huh?"

The cross of your eyes is almost painful, but you have started and fuelled by anger and unreciprocated feelings there’s no stopping your steam. "And now this! Stopping the elevator! What the hell is this supposed to mean?" His lips part as if to answer but without waiting for his response, you plow on, "What! Do you actually have an answer? Really? Let's face it; you think I’m some sort of challenge that needs to be conquered. Another notch on your bedpost. You and your stupid smirks and half-lidded eyes and that damn mole on your nose and god, can you just not—"

The soft pad of his finger on your lips pauses your rant, leaves them parted and your heart hammering while unsaid words clutter the hollow spaces in your throat, tighten around your vocal cords like a noose until they become their own nemesis.

"I broke up with her last night," Taehyung says, and from where you are standing so close to him, his breath on your neck, cheeks, lips is too enchanting, too much like something you had hoped and begged and prayed for far too long now. Breathing out harshly you blink yourself back to reality because you must be hearing him wrong.

"Huh?"

His hand slowly comes up to hold your chin, thumb running over your lower lip with a feather-like touch, "I broke up with her last night, went home and came back early because I didn't want to miss you." He says, and your chest feels tight, palms numb and it's only when his hand gently settles over the nape of your neck and you inhale painfully that you realise that you had stopped breathing.

"Why?" You rasp out.

Don't hope. This means nothing. Do not hope.

Something twists in your belly, a thread tightens around your heart, and you know, despite it all, that you are hoping.

"Why do you think?" He asks instead, and you stifle the sudden desire to bash his head into a wall.

"Don't play games with me."

A sigh, his breath dancing on your lips and you barely suppress the tingles that burn down your spine, "I'm not. I don't want to, not anymore." The hand resting around your neck curls, fingers caressing the soft skin behind your ear.

"What do you want then?" Your words are quiet, hope and longing laced into every syllable that you desperately hope to hide but fail.

Your heart hammers into your ribs with so much force you are half afraid it will leave them cracked; splintered just like your love for the man who is touching you, holding your entire heart in the palm of his hands while you wait for it to be crushed. Because it will, it's inevitable. Kim Taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. All narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is too good. Too good for the woman he was with and certainly too good for you. You would be happy if you looked half as good on your wedding day as he regularly does because he is that gorgeous. And unreal, and pretty and it hurts.

It hurts because you can never have him and any second now he will push you away and ridicule you for getting flustered so easily and he will never understand, and god it cuts. It tears at you because despite knowing better, you long for him, his touch, his warmth.

Maybe even his love. But that is one hope you refuse to acknowledge out loud.

Your breaths mingle from where you two are standing so close, and part of you aches to reach out, to pull him closer and wrap yourself around him until you can sync the beat of your heart to his, to nestle your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in, drown in the scent of that spicy cologne that you associate with him and nobody else. Because it's tempting, oh so inviting and he is so so close.

You could touch his chest, caress the skin peeking from in between the dip of his low neck shirt and it would be easy, he would let you, you know that too but what about after? How do you come back from holding someone your soul is in love with and then pretend that being with them for one night was enough? How does your hope keep living on in the name of that fragment of love? His arms your shelter for one night and then you are back to being strangers, sharing elevators and bumping into each other at the grocery store, pretending all the while that you do not yearn to visit that one night you spent together whenever your head hits the pillow?

"I..." Taehyung struggles, chews the words before his lips form them because this is his last chance and if he loses you now, it's over; he knows that too. The pair of you are done playing cat and mouse.

"I know my words don't hold a whole lot of value. I could promise you things, but you won't believe me and that's fair. I get it." He admits, another hand coming up until your face is cradled in his open palms, fingers slipping behind the edges of your ears and you will yourself to not drop your gaze, to look into his eyes and search for...love? Honesty? You wish you could say you know what it is that you are hunting for, but held so close all you can think about is the chestnut brown of his eyes, the black that rims them, the high arched brows and the thin, smooth lips and that mole; that mole that you can only see when you are pressed close, a hair's breadth of space between you two.

"But...?" You ask, pray, and yet again, against your better judgement hope.

"But I love you." He confesses, voice forever rich and deep and you feel the hum of his baritone from where your chest is still pulled tight to his. "My love for you is unlike any I have ever known, and it scared me; it still scares me because I don't know. I don't know what I will do if I ever lose you. I care too much, I—" His grip on you tightens and instinctively your hands snake around his waist, clenching the soft cotton of his shirt, nails biting into your skin as his words thread your hopelessly lovesick heart back together; piece by piece.

"I love you too much." Taehyung whispers and the ice around your heart thaws, his raw confession lighting a fire in your nerves until you are left buzzing from the high of his admission. "Trust me. Just this once. Please." He is vulnerable in his plea, and for the first time you wonder if you had characterised him wrong. Boxed and stored him like a gift on a shelf without bothering to look underneath the paper wrapping.

Taehyung doesn't have to beg, he doesn't have to try and persuade anyone, and for all the gibes you threw his way, all the daggered words about him dating only for money, you didn't truly believe any of them. Sure, the woman he had been with for the last few months was older (a voice in your head whispers wiser), but that wasn't because she was, as you would often insist, his 'sugar mama', but instead because their interests aligned. Kim Taehyung is a man of taste, whether it be his fondness for a violin's trill, fascination with modern art, or his love for jazz music. He is an enigma and with no small amount of embarrassment you think back to all the times you have bought a book after he made a passing comment on it, searched the pages and the characters to find some semblance of him.

Maybe you are pathetic, perhaps you are far too infatuated with this man for it to be healthy. Just maybe...

"No," Taehyung commands, his voice so determined you’re snapped back to the present, head thrown out of the haze your wandering thoughts had created.

Seeing your obscure expression and strayed eyes (look away because you can't acknowledge how much he matters), he pushes, one hand sliding down to grip your chin and urge you to look him in the eye. "Don't."

Maybe he sees something in your eyes, spots your hidden insecurities, reads you like an open book and dog-ears the pages that hold your weakness.

"Don't what?" You deflect, gaze drifting away again as you pretend to not know what he means but secretly long for him to keep pushing, to keep trying—your denial’s a facade to hide all your pleas.

"Don't do this to me. To us."

"You'll hurt me." You protest, a half-hearted attempt at trying to protect your already doomed heart even as your fingers clench tighter, pull him closer.

"No, I won't." He speaks with certainty that you don't wholly believe but fuelled by far too much love and longing, you don't protest any further and instead toe closer, rise higher, and breathe in the shaky exhale he lets out when your lips skim the sharp curve of his jaw.

"I've wanted this for so long." Unadulterated desire courses through your veins at his admission. Even if Taehyung is lying, even if he leaves you stranded after today, you'll live. You'll live on the high of this moment, the memory of his skin under your touch, the crisp of the cotton draped over his lean torso.

It's easier to let go and surrender yourself, easier to lay yourself bare because you have already come too far and there is no protecting yourself anymore—your heart is now his to do with.

Your hands twine around his waist, slide over the vast expanse of his back like he is yours; as though if you try hard enough, you'll leave an imprint, a sign that he belongs to you. Mark him for the rest of eternity and brand him with your name on his heart.

Kissing him is easy, the slight ache of staying on your tippy-toes going by unregistered as you get lost in the sensation of his lips, his sighs on your chin, the tickle of his lashes against the high curve of your cheek.

The cradle of his palms around your face is gentle, almost careful, as though you are a porcelain doll and he is afraid one harsh move will leave you splintered. Chest tight, you push down the last remaining traces of hesitation clinging inside your throat and twist to catch his lips instead, licking a long strip from the soft cleft of his chin over to his parted lips, dip into the hollow of his mouth and slide over the soft flesh on the inside before you catch his upper lip in between yours and suck.

His responding groan has you clenching your thighs and you break the kiss, breathing in to replenish the oxygen that doesn't seem as important when his lips are on yours. When your gaze catches his, for once you don't look away, don't force yourself to stop from swimming in the beautiful, clear pool of his eyes.

"I love you too." Your admission is quiet, more a careful whisper than anything else, as though any louder and you'll break this spell and things will go back to the way they were. He will come to his senses and realise he doesn't love you after all and then you'll go back to being a pining, lovesick fool, only this time with a broken heart and no hope to cling to.

His eyes grow soft—gentle in the curve of two crescent moons, and you smile your first real smile, the edges twitching and pulling into a gentle grin before you can bite it down and the answering smile that Taehyung rewards you with has your heart squeezing almost painfully inside your chest.

"Yeah?" He asks as though he already knows the answer but just wants to hear you say it again, profess your love for him again and you do. You say it again and again, press your lips over every inch of his face and emboss the words onto the smooth, unblemished skin.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you answer from around the suspended ball of disbelief and love in your throat. "Yeah."

When the clothes start coming off it’s a gentle, slow affair, the spaces in between filled with tender touches curious to explore the skin that they had desired for so long and open-mouthed kisses pressing promises of forever and happily ever after onto the naked expanse, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Legs twined around his waist like ivy, you arch off the floor. A tug of your hand and his shirt slips low, and then your mouth is pressing warm, wet, kisses, tongue slipping out and desperately tasting his skin, his sweat— him. You lean back and then he's on you, low, low, low until his lips are close enough to skim the edges of your panties and you buckle, arch and push without meaning to as you ache for relief only he can provide.

"You are beautiful. So so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

His words are rough, less speech and more growl as he pushes his head closer to your soaking heat and inhales. "Fuck."

Breathes turning to hitches, words into gasps, you can scarcely keep your eyes open when he runs a long, slim finger through your folds and circles your wet opening before your walls are pulsing around him, sucking and pulling the finger in as deep as it will go. One and two then three, your cunt can't have enough of his fingers, his heat and him and oh—

His lips are velvet against your clit, your body a molten mass of gold moulding itself around his fingers, your sanity and restraint slipping and dripping down onto the carpeted floor from in between the spaces. With the last left strength, you prop yourself onto your elbows and the sight of Taehyung's mouth on your sex is almost enough to send you slipping back down again. His tongue laves across your folds with the desperation of a man parched, caressing every fold, greedily licking away your dripping arousal and moaning out obscenities too vulgar for how early the day is.

When you come, it's with a cry that sounds too animalistic to be yours. One that comes from your chest and leaves your back arched like the ends of a boomerang. "Good?" He asks with glistening lips, and you wanna scream, hysterical in your pitch— good? Is there anything better that exists in this world than his lips on you making you come? Again and again, until you can no longer stand the sensitivity?

But instead of screaming, or shaking him by his shoulders until it gets through his head, you reply with a spent nod and let your elbows slip. This is what being eaten out by Kim Taehyung feels like. The pleasure coursing through your veins is something far more potent than any you have ever felt before. The blood in your veins thrumming, almost sizzling under the thin layer of your skin.

He presses his forehead to yours, rests to catch his breath and with every shuddery inhale you breathe your arousal in, a swipe of your tongue across his glistening lips, and then you can taste it too. It tastes of nothing and yet everything. Coming from his lips, it tastes of what your dreams are built from, like liquified recklessness and yearning and above all —Taehyung.

It tastes of him and his smirks and all the kisses you couldn't have and all the kisses you now hope for.

His fingers are gentle when they tuck your hair, eyes bright behind the curtain of messy, ink-black strands, "There's a law somewhere that says when you love someone with all your heart, you are unavoidably loved by them as well. Amor ch'a null'amato amar perdona."

Your eyes search his, frantically rove all over his face, search the lines under his eyes, pause at the small mole on his nose, and then stop at the sight of the one on his lower lip, the one that your eyes would always drift to every time he'd smirk or grin in the past. Now he's smiling, lips stretched into a soft boxy curve, the mole evident against the edge and you raise a trembling hand, run your thumb across it. Cup his face with both your hands until your vision blurs and then your lips are on his. Locking and licking and your mouth is a leaking faucet of I love you's, hands working to the back of his head and getting lost in those perfectly long, wavy strands.

You hope this is the real thing when you wildly take off your dress, rip off his shirt unmindful of the last few buttons that clatter to the floor and undress until the both of you are as bare as you were the day you were born.

The steel railing is startlingly cold against your rear but before you can wince Taehyung's large hands are on your waist, pulling you closer until all that's on your mind is the feel of him, hard and hot against your dripping heat. His mouth is on your breast, lips sucking marks into the flesh and tying you to him, leaving traces of his presence behind until you can no longer differentiate the ache in your heart from the burn in your belly.

Somehow through the haze of want and compulsive need, you collect yourself enough to tell him you're on the pill when he remembers the lack of protection in his wallet, and then he's inside you. The thrust inside is fluid, and you are moaning, keening at your wetness, at how long he is, at how unbearably, entirely full you are.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, like the last words of a man dying an untimely death, desperate and hurried and like if he takes a second too long he might never get the chance again. The scratch of your nails against his back must hurt, the grip of your heels around his sides must be painful, and still you can't bring yourself to let up; to let go.

The air inside becomes humid, reeks of sex and sweat and everything that shouldn't seem so right, and yet does.

You come first, hit your peak and crash through it like a ship in a torrential sea, hot and volatile and like something vital that you'll retain even in the afterlife. Taehyung–sweet, sweet Taehyung – helps you ride it out, makes your body sing with the honed practice of a pianist who has spent more decades playing than he can recall. His tongue is on your neck, stroking that one sensitive spot in the hollow of your clavicle while his hand brushes your clit, builds the pleasure and lets it drift, unhurried and soft until you are crying from the overwhelming rightness of it.

With a shudder, you finally push his hand away from your quivering heat and bring it to your lips, kiss the bony knuckles and let it rest on your thigh from where he wraps it tight around your waist and drives to chase his own high.

Sated you watch Taehyung, catalogue all the features that you had never seen before but up close can. Just in case—just. File them all in a part of your heart where only he resides, a piece you will always come back to, regardless of if the man in your arms chooses to stay or not. You will be selfish with these memories, hoard and treasure them in secrecy until the day you can look back upon them with nothing more than nostalgic fondness.

The appearance of a deep furrow on his forehead, between those long arched brows and the breaking rhythm of his thrusts, alerts you to how close he is and you clench. Clench with all the love and devotion you nurture in your heart and hope that somehow it will be enough. If not forever, then at least until you can have your fill, until you can love him for a life's worth and live off on those memories. Live on them like a late mother's half-finished perfume bottle that you take out and sniff on your sorriest days, a push strong enough to keep you going.

One more day, then one more and then just one more until you can finally meet him in the afterlife, old and having done all that you had been sent to do. Except for love. You doubt you can ever love like this again.

Kissing him after feels like the best kind of heartbreak because you know, somewhere deep in your gut where you house your intuition and insecurities, you know this won't last.

Yet you wouldn't take back anything. Your lips form words on Taehyung's shoulder 'i love you so much. i always will', and you tighten your arms around his waist. Anchor him to the present and pray that the defence will be strong enough to keep him with you for a little while more.

Just a little.

a/n: the end is up to your interpretation, you are free to imagine whatever end you’d have liked to see. If you enjoyed reading this please let me know through comments, reblogs, tags or asks. the feedback makes me insanely happy and i love hearing from you guys ♡

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

SEND ME A PROMPT | A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam.

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out.

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad.

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair.

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.”

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words.

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other.

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR ANGST #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #SPILT INK #I AM A MESS #I HATE ME LMFAO

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 4 years

Text

Ink on his heart

Summary: Here’s how Bucky Barnes got a haircut and then decided it was about damn time he controlled his own destiny - starting with a bit of ink.

Star Spangled Bingo Square: “A thoughtful gift”

Characters: Bucky Barnes x TattooArtist!Reader

Words: 7,400 Warnings: Tattoo experiences, a couple stories about war. Some swearing. Mostly lots of feels and fluff.

A/N: This one has been in my head a long time, I love tattoos and I love the idea of Bucky getting them! While I desperately wish I could draw the designs in my head, hopefully you get enough of a word picture to imagine. And yes, it is kinda long (I know, I know), but I couldn’t stop myself!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Not that Bucky’s counting, but it’s been three days, 18 hours and 26 minutes and he can’t get over it.

In the damp, chilly hours before dawn, he sits on the floor of the tower living room, watching the marshmallows in his hot chocolate melt in white swirls. Now and then, he lifts his eyes to the windows, finds the faint edges of his reflection in the dark glass, and tilts his head. Tentative fingers scratch through close cropped hair and a slow smile appears. Even now, he expects long strands trailing through his fingers. Believes he can feel the phantom tug of a snarl.

It was just a haircut. What a simple, ordinary thing.

But Bucky Barnes has never been ordinary.

That small act triggered a startling transformation. Decades of heartbreak fell away with that dark hair, revealing the shape of a man he begins to remember, and it makes him think. About small things, about change. About simple acts making an extraordinary difference.

The last haircut Bucky remembers before the beginning of his first ending, was January 1945. The memory came back one evening, of a tent in Austria, the heavy silence of snow drifting down. He remembers Steve with a dull scissors, snipping carefully along his ear, remembers the catch of a knife gently shaving his neck. It was a ritual they shared for years. When pennies were tight and life was tough, they took care of each other.

And then? Then there was after.

After the fall, after capture, after the world went pear-shaped. Hydra wasn’t concerned with the formalities of self-care, a haircut was functional. Sharp scissors biting into his scalp, rough hands tearing his hair, a harsh slap if he considered resisting. Get it done and get it done fast. The Asset has work to do.

He despised those haircuts.

But now, here he is. No more handlers and horrors. No more running. No more hiding. No more ropes dragging him somewhere he doesn’t want to be.

Wresting back his independence was exhilarating.

When Steve had finished this haircut - because Bucky still preferred a Steve Rogers special to anything - he’d dusted off Bucky’s shoulders and waited. Sam stood behind him, and Bucky rolled his eyes, expecting a barrage of sassy comments.

But Sam just ruffled the freshly cut hair and laughed.

“Not bad old man. Still not as handsome as yours truly, but hey - maybe someday.”

Such a simple thing, a haircut.

It makes him wonder what else he might do, just for himself.

Fuzzy and disconnected, an old memory flickers to life. It buzzes in his brain, images and connections filtering through the cracks and Bucky lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes and sips his hot chocolate.

*****

Steve yawns when he answers the door. Blond hair spikes in every direction and he rubs his eyes, looking for all the world like a sleepy, overgrown toddler.

“Hey, man. Everything okay?”

Bucky leans against the doorframe and chews his thumbnail while he gathers his thoughts.

“Sure, just - can I get a favor?”

Bemused, Steve ushers him inside and Bucky plops in the red bean bag chair Steve keeps tucked beside his dresser. Stretching out his legs, he waits for Steve to flop back into bed and snuggle his pillow, before he speaks.

“Remember back in ’37 when we were coming home from that shitty bar in Midtown, and we saw that sailor getting a tattoo?”

Whatever Steve expected, it wasn’t this. It takes him a moment to conjure the image, but when it comes he belts out a laugh.

“That terrified kid gettin’ a big heart on his arm? Looked ready to shit his pants?”

Bucky grins at the memory, a milk-faced kid with hair dark and shiny as an oil-slick.

“Thought he was gonna puke on the guy.”

“Yeah, and didn’t we stand outside that window arguing while you tried to convince me we both needed one? Something about good girls liking bad boys?”

“Hey, I stand by that statement!”

“Oh fuck off, you know exactly what your Ma would’ve said if we’d come home with tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles. “God, she’d a skinned me alive.”

“Damn straight,” Steve agrees and they fall quiet, momentarily lost in shared memories of a woman with a voice of steel and a heart of gold.

Bucky leans forward and rests his chin on his knee.

“You know, all these years and I’ve never really - done anything like that,” he admits wistfully. “Gotten something done to me, I mean. Something I decided on my own. If that makes sense?”

Controlling his own destiny, choosing to do something by himself, instead of always accepting things done to him - the idea is intoxicating. He remembers the pained grimace on that sailor’s face and he relishes the prospect.

Pain you choose to feel holds a different meaning, than the torture he knows.

“S’never too late, Buck,” Steve says drowsily. “You can do anything you want.”

Bucky contemplates Steve’s words. He can do anything he wants. Heart beating fast, he takes a deep breath.

“So listen, I was thinking -”

*****

For two straight weeks, Steve works on ideas.

The floor of his bedroom is littered with sketches and concepts, crumpled sheets of paper dappled with flowing lines. Finally, after midnight on a dreary Thursday, he knocks on Bucky’s door. The moment it opens, he shoves his tattered leather portfolio in Bucky’s hands.

“So, I guess, uh - here.”

Steve crosses his arms, his toe tapping nervously, and Bucky chokes down a laugh. Some things about Steve Rogers remain comfortingly unchanged. No matter how incredible his work, all confidence seems to evaporate the moment Bucky lays eyes on anything.

—

“Give it back asshole!”

“God dammit Steve, YOU’RE the one who asked me to look!”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind, now give it back!”

—

Bucky remembers laughing while Steve chased him around their apartment. He remembers the neighbors banging on the wall, shouting at them to shut up, and he remembers the smell of their forgotten scrambled eggs burning. But most of all, he remembers that drawing - he tucked that portrait of his mother in his rucksack the day he shipped out and it stayed there, a good luck charm all through the war.

Steve had cried when Bucky told him.

Because Bucky’s opinion was always the one that mattered. Seventy years changes nothing.

Tonight, he opens the leather case, revealing three separate drawings. Outlines of black ink and a rainbow of colors paint over the curves and breaks of a human form and he pores over each page. Each drawing is utterly unique, telling the story of Bucky Barnes in metaphors and moments.

There are no words.

His throat feels suddenly thick, cotton lodged in his windpipe.

“I can redo them,” Steve blurts out. He snatches at the paper, but Bucky spins sideways, blocking the reach.

“The fuck you will. You ain’t touching these,” his voice cracks. Blinking back the flood of emotion, he looks up. “This is - they’re perfect, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve blushes petal pink and coughs to hide his delight. He fails miserably, of course, but that’s one more reason Bucky loves the little punk.

*****

One week later, Bucky stands before a demure brick storefront on a slow Brooklyn side street, the portfolio housing Steve’s three precious drawings clutched tight in a sweaty hand. Glancing at the address in his hand, he looks up to find stenciled letters curving across a glass window.

BROOKLYN INK ESTABLISHED 1973

“Here we go,” he mutters. Before he can lose his nerve, he shoves forward.

Three steps inside the tattoo parlor, he pulls up short.

Wow.

Black iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, splashing sparkles across plush velvet chairs, rich violet and bright turquoise. The floor is an eclectic mix of reclaimed barn board, full of knots and whorls in every shade of brown. Artwork in black and white frames line the brick wall, tattoo designs, letters and fonts, photos of finished work. The entire space overflows with warmth, and Bucky feels instantly at ease.

The front desk is empty, but he hears someone rattling around back, so he takes a seat. Piled high on an end table are bundles of photo albums, full of work; he sinks into the cushions and starts flipping through.

Immersed in the images, he misses the sound of quiet footsteps.

“Are you James?”

The voice startles him and in one swift move, he manages to throw the album on the floor and tumble from the chair. Pages of photographs spill everywhere and he crawls over, hastily scooping them up and babbling one inappropriate apology after another.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry! Shit, I mean I’m sorry for saying shit. Fuck, I didn’t - oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m not usually so - ”

Soft laughter greets him and he looks up in panic, a more refined apology on his lips, but the words evaporate.

Crouching beside him, graceful hands gather up the mess of photos, slipping them back into the album. Dropping it carelessly on the end table, she bounces back to her feet and offers him a hand.

“No worries,” she says with a breathtaking smile. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”

Although he has no need for the support, Bucky reaches mutely for her outstretched fingers because he can’t help but take them. When she tugs, he allows her to pull him up.

“I’m, um - Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Hello Bucky,” she says. She shares her name and he repeats it slowly. Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath.

“Thanks for meeting me so late, I know it’s after hours.”

“Sure,” she says lightly. “So, what can I do for you?”

This is the tricky part.

“On the website, it mentioned you had experience with - with tattooing around scars,” he begins carefully. “Scar tissue I mean. Is that right?”

With his question, her expressions turns serious. She observes him for a long moment.

“Yes, I do. Can I ask how long you served?” she asks delicately and Bucky acknowledges her perception with a short nod. He toys with the zipper on Steve’s portfolio, debating his response.

“Seemed like forever,” he finally says, and it’s the most honest answer he has.

Nodding silently, she motions him behind the counter.

“Come on back, let’s see what you had in mind.”

Hugging the pictures to his chest, Bucky follows, eyes saucer wide as they weave through the work area to her space. The shop smells like the woodsy smoke from the candles sitting along her table, mixed with ink and latex and an odd sterile tang. He inhales and discovers he likes it, the strange scent lighting him up.

Dropping to her stool, she gestures for him to have a seat. Bucky sits gingerly, wide eyes still staring. When she catches his eye, he flushes.

“Sorry. First time I’ve been in a shop.”

“That’s okay, there’s lots to see,” she says easily. Looking at the portfolio still clutched against his chest, she grins. “Did you have some ideas already?”

He thrusts the portfolio at her. Propping it on her knees, she flips it open and he beams when he hears her astonished gasp.

“I like the colors there, if you think they’re possible?”

“Sure, might take some extra time, but I can do it,” she murmurs, pinching her lip. Turning the page sideways, she examines every minute detail, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is exquisite.”

“I’ll tell my artist. He’s a real diva sometimes.”

“I’d say he’s earned that right,” she laughs, tracing the paper with a light finger. She flips to the second picture and tilts her head. “The grays and silvers might look nice with midnight blue for contrast?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah, I love that idea.”

She looks again, examining the intricate design.

“Can you tell me about your pain tolerance? The designs are beautiful, but they’re complex. Each will take multiple sessions to finish.”

Bucky drops his eyes. He heaves a sigh at the obligatory question.

“It’s high,” he mutters. “Very - high.”

Silence follows his admission. When he dares to look up again, he feels a twinge in his chest at the compassion he finds. He offers a rueful smile and she slowly returns it.

“Would you like to come after hours? It can get noisy during the day, if you prefer things quieter. Most soldiers like that better.”

There is a sweep of relief at her casual acknowledgement. He huffs out a shaky breath.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Not at all. I’m a night owl anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Me too.”

She looks back to the portfolio, carefully shuffling the pages.

The third picture appears.

And Bucky sees it, that precise moment when realization sinks in. When she realizes exactly who is sitting in her chair tonight. There is no doubt the drawing gives that fact away. Heart pounding, he flinches, steeling himself for the inevitable.

But nothing happens.

She meets his nervous gaze head on and yet - that gentle smile remains.

“Bucky,” she repeats and this time she understands. “Oh. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes. Come back tomorrow night, 9pm. Don’t be late.”

He leaves the tattoo shop feeling lighter than he has in years.

*****

TATTOO 1: FOREARM

“Show me a man with a tattoo and I’ll show you a man with an interesting past.” - Jack London

*****

Perpetually early for everything, Bucky arrives at 8:45pm the next night.

The bell over the door tinkles when he enters, and she looks up from the front desk and waves. His stomach unexpectedly leaps and he thinks it must be nerves.

“Hey, Bucky,” her voice is soft.

“Evening,” he says shyly.

“You ready to do this?”

“Could hardly sleep last night,” he confesses with a grin.

Sliding timidly into her black leather chair, he watches her arrange tools on a shiny silver tray. An arm rest is attached to his right side, and he dries his sweaty palm on his jeans before easing his arm onto the cushion, palm up. When she drops onto her stool at his side, he offers a weak smile.

“You got the email I sent with all the information, right? Did you have any questions?”

He scrunches his nose, recalling the long, detailed summary she shared. For each of the three tattoos he requested, she gave him a detailed analysis of the process for creating each design; broke down how long each session would take; gave explicit instructions on the healing and care process; confirmed each individual color and how it would be applied; clarified the tools that would be used, including their brand names and how each one worked; she even provided floor plans of her shop - outlining entries and exits and bathrooms and locations of fire extinguishers.

It was a novel of information that must’ve taken her hours, and he was inexplicably grateful for the time she spent just to make him comfortable.

“No questions, I just, uh - thanks. For putting all that together. It was helpful to have all the information. Helps me keep my head on straight.”

“Of course,” she says. “So this first design should take probably 5-6 hours. Since you’re new, we’ll start with short blocks and see how it goes.”

Bucky gives a jerky nod and she pauses, pressing her fingertips against the smooth skin of his forearm.

“Here are the rules. You’re in charge, okay? We can go as fast or as slow as you need. This is not a race, and I have nowhere to be but here. Any time you want to stop, you say the word and I stop. We can take a breather, grab a cup of coffee and start again - or we can call it a night. This is your experience, Bucky. You’re in control. Understand?”

There is a fierce surge of gratitude at her words. Gratitude for her kindness, for her acceptance. Gratitude for her.

“Got it,” he whispers.

And with that, they begin.

Bucky follows each step, while she measures his arm, while she considers the contours and angles of his muscle, while she cleans and preps his skin. When she finally applies a stencil, his heart is hammering so hard his teeth are chattering.

The low buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears with a click.

When the needles touch his skin, sweat instantly beads his neck. Adrenaline drenches his tongue and for one wild moment, Bucky panics. Wonders if this was a terrible idea, because what idiot asks for pain, seriously Barnes, what the hell is wrong with you, why’re you so stupid all the -

And then - oh.

Huh.

Interesting.

Wide-eyed, Bucky follows her careful strokes, black lines appearing on his skin.

It does hurt - sort of. Obviously nothing he can’t handle; in the grand scheme of his life, this would register as a minor inconvenience, but there is a pinch.

But that spark of pain vanishes, when the raw symbolism behind Steve’s design hits him full force.

Holy shit.

How many times through the decades did Bucky Barnes die? And how many times did he rise, born again from the frozen ash of oblivion? It was simply what the Soldier did. But it was a shadow-life, nothing more. Bucky never knew how close he was to giving up, until that day above the Potomac, Steve’s bloody face beneath his furious fists. He was so far gone, so lost and forgotten, until those memories cracked the Soldier’s fierce veneer.

And suddenly he was Bucky again. Awake and alive. For the first time in 70 years he felt fire in his soul. For the first time in 70 years he could breathe.

Tears inexplicably fill his eyes.

“All okay?”

Through a tunnel, Bucky hears her voice. Hypnotized by the metaphor inking itself into his skin, his head feels waterlogged when blinks up at her.

“Sorry?”

She scans his face, her thumb rubbing the pulse thrumming at his wrist.

“Everything okay?” She asks again and Bucky feels a potent rush of euphoria.

“Yes,” he says slowly. The excitement bubbles over and he lets out an ecstatic laugh. “Yes! This is incredible. This is - fucking hell, this is amazing.”

Chuckling to herself, she bends back to her task.

“So I guess we’ll keep going?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”

Two hours later, the outline of the Phoenix is inked into his skin, crisp black lines like fresh paint. Long tail feathers are curled around his wrist, the lush feathered body splashed over his forearm, her wings spread open and curving around his arm, her head reaching toward the sky.

Born from ash. Alive again.

Bucky hates to cover it up, but she insists.

“Follow the cleaning instructions and it should be fine. We need to wait between the sessions, give you time to heal.”

At that comment, he fidgets.

“Actually, I heal pretty - fast.”

“I assumed you might. Usually I say 2-3 weeks between sessions, so how about you come back in 1 week and we can see. Let’s just make sure. Does that work?”

Bucky glances at the crisp white bandage on his arm.

“Okay, that works,” he says.

She squeezes his hand and he meets her eyes.

“You did great,” she tells him.

Bucky smiles in return. And he doesn’t stop for the next six days.

*****

When he walks into the shop for his next session, he carries a large coffee for himself and an extra large iced peach green tea for her. When he gets to the front desk, he thrusts the cup at her.

“Evening. Um, here. Saw you had one last time, so - anyway.”

“Bucky, thank you. I’ve been craving one all day.” She gives the straw an experimental bite, before taking a long drink and for some reason, the silly quirk makes his heart bounce.

After a quick check on how he’s healed, she declares him perfect and they get started, settling into a comfortable silence. After an hour of buzzing, Bucky clears his throat.

“Is it okay to talk while you work?”

“It is,” she affirms, dabbing at the ink. Glancing up, she sees hesitant blue eyes. “I’m good at listening too. Sometimes it’s nice just to listen.”

Bucky figures that’s a fair statement. He fiddles with a stray thread on his shirt.

“Do you read much?” He asks hopefully, picturing the teetering stack of books beside his bed. She perks at the question.

“I love to read. Have a pile of books on my nightstand waiting for me to find time. What about you? Are you reading anything good now? Any favorites I should know?”

Bucky swallows the happy surprise. If he could, he’d be content to spend the rest of his years with a comfortable chair, a cup of coffee, and an unending supply of stories. He could talk about books for days, he just normally keeps quiet, because most people aren’t interested in that facet of Bucky Barnes.

So he begins to talk.

He tells her how Natasha lent him all her Russian copies of Pushkin and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, insisting that reading in the original language was infinitely better. He describes how he found a copy of Rumi’s poetry at a yard sale, and what an incredible treasure it was. He flusters recounting how much he cried reading ‘A Fault in our Stars’ and says he was scared shitless to even see a clown for a full year after reading Stephen King.

He talks and talks and talks, and when he finally stops to breathe, she glances up.

“It’s nice to hear a man who’s so well read,” she says and Bucky preens at the compliment. “Do you have an all time favorite? Something you never get tired of?”

A favorite? No question.

“Yeah, I do. Something I read during the war and kinda fell in love. It’s about here, I guess. About Brooklyn.”

At the description, her mouth quirks, but she keeps working.

“Did you ever think about a book quote for a tattoo?”

Now there’s an idea. He makes a mental note to think of a quote he could add as another tattoo. Or maybe another couple tattoos. Hell, one session in and he’s already addicted.

The comment tumbles free before he realizes he’s spoken out loud. He blushes at her laughter.

“It can be addicting,” she agrees. Bucky understands completely, seeing the vibrant crimson ink soak into his skin, painting the bird’s feathers. And then she pauses, meeting his eyes with a peculiar expression. “The right words can make you feel invincible.”

Setting the tattoo machine down, she rolls her chair back a bit and sits up straight. Lifting the hem of her shirt, Bucky sees a line of gold text inked below her ribs, his eyes following the flowing cursive.

“She was all of these things and of something more,” he reads aloud.

“‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ is my favorite book too,” she says quietly. There is a long, unbroken moment where they stare into each others eyes. He should say something, he thinks. Something intelligent or witty or anything, but instead he just thinks about the fact that he found a woman in Brooklyn to permanently carve pictures into his skin and she has the same favorite book as him.

Bucky always was a sucker for fate.

“That’s - that’s really - I love that,” he finally says instead.

*****

A week later, Bucky arrives with a bundle of folders and an exasperated expression.

“This is really annoying, but do you mind if I finish some reports while you work? Got behind, someone’s gonna have my ass.” Bucky raises the papers apologetically.

“No problem,” she says easily. “Let’s keep your ass safe.”

Bending back to her task, Bucky snorts a laugh. They’re just a handful of mission reports, normally he types them soon as he returns, but lately he’s been slacking, because lately he has other things he finds more interesting.

Like the scene in front of him.

Together they work, each with their own pen. Bucky writes, she colors, and the clock on the wall ticks along. After awhile, she takes a break to stretch. Rolling her shoulders, she observes him.

“Are you left-handed?” she asks curiously and it takes Bucky a moment to think.

“Oh. Uh, not really,” he says. “But I can switch. Never been a problem.”

At the confession, she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s impressive. I wish I had a talent like that.”

He ducks his head at the praise. And he keeps writing, of course. Maybe adds a bit more flair. After all, the old Bucky Barnes did like to swagger.

*****

“Well, I think that’s it.”

It takes a beat before Bucky understands what she means. Confused, he peers up at her with a dopey expression and she gestures at his arm.

He feels his heart lurch.

It flames to life along his arm, painted in vibrant ruby red and rich crimson and deep plum, highlights edged in shining gold. Mesmerized, Bucky stares down at the lines of ink and he flexes, the tendons of his arm shifting, and the bird moves. For one wild moment, he believes if he stays still, it could leap from his skin and take flight.

It leaves him breathless.

“God, this is better - fuck, it’s so much better - than I ever imagined. How did you - wow. I don’t know how you did it, but - thank you. Thank you so much.”

Unanticipated emotion makes his voice tremble. Because this is the first time Bucky Barnes chose something permanent for himself. Serums and metal arms and bullets and blades, those were always forced upon him, his pleading refusals met with violence and sneering indifference.

But this?

This.

This is all his.

*****

TATTOO 2: BACK

“Wear your heart on your sleeve in this life.” - Sylvia Plath

*****

“So, uh, how exactly does this work?”

Standing beside the leather chair while she organizes her inks, Bucky wrinkles his nose. She looks up and motions for him to turn, straddling the chair with his chest pressed against the back.

“Are you comfortable completely removing your shirt? Or would you prefer to leave it part way on? I’ll just need it out of the way for the right side of your back.”

Bucky grimaces. Eventually she’s going to see his shoulder - he knows that - but he’s not in the mood to rip that band-aid off yet.

“Uh - let’s do part of the way if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” she confirms and he awkwardly tugs his right arm free, baring the broad expanse of his back. Tucking his arms in front of him, he slings a leg over the chair and rests his chin carefully on the headrest.

He says nothing, simply stays still while she absorbs the sight. Littered up and down his back are a litany of scars, puckers from the occasional bullet, thin lines from errant blades, and a few other marks he prefers not to define. His voice is muffled when he warily asks.

“Are you able to - work with it?“

“Absolutely,” she answers firmly and Bucky warms at the decisiveness in her tone. Her confidence makes him feel infinitely more positive.

This is the largest of his three tattoos, stretching from the tip of his shoulder blade and flowing down to his waist. It will also take the longest, but Bucky assures her he has no issue sitting perfectly still for hours.

It’ll be worth it. He can’t wait to show Sam - he’ll get a kick out of this one.

Once she applies the stencil over his skin, she goes to work, dropping into that headspace of deep focus. She works so quietly for so long, he falls into a trance, lulled by the melodic buzz.

When she speaks, it startles him.

“What made you decide you wanted a tattoo?”

He lays his cheek along the edge of the chair so he can see her from the corner of his eye when he answers.

“S’random, but back in ’37, me and Steve were out and I remember walking by this old tattoo shop over in Midtown. They had one of those big glass windows with the chair in front, so people could stand and watch. Anyway, we walk by and there was this kid sitting in the chair, and no fuckin’ joke, he was getting a big heart on his arm with ‘MOM’ written in the middle.”

“Ah yes, the ever popular ‘mom’ tribute. I’ve done a few of those,” she says and Bucky grins.

“Well anyway, I always kinda wanted something, you know? Thought about getting one before I shipped out, but I didn’t, and then it was - “ he pauses for a moment, but she encourages him with a questioning hmmm? and Bucky bravely pushes forward. “I had lots of years where I didn’t get to make my own decisions. And there was so much - bad shit that happened to me. Anyway, I guess I thought if someone’s gonna do something to me, I wanted it to be on my own terms. You know?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I think that makes perfect sense.”

Bucky sits quietly, contemplating. The question has been rattling around his brain for awhile and it spills free before he can stop himself.

“The whole process, it feels sort of - intimate, doesn’t it?”

He flushes at the insinuation, but intimate is the best way to describe it, he thinks, this practice of someone permanently carving their art into your skin.

“It is intimate,” she says softly, leaning closer. “It’s almost like you’re - leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin? I don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s what it’s always felt like.”

Bucky nods, watching her capable, artistic, beautiful hands as they move, slowly transferring bits and pieces of herself to him.

What a gift. He holds on tight.

*****

It was bound to happen at one of the sessions.

It’s been dark and rainy for days, buckets dumped from the heavens, the perpetual grumble of thunder always near. When Bucky comes through the front door, he feels like a wet dog. He shakes out his jacket, stomps his boots. He feels off base tonight, the result of bad sleep, bad dreams, and one particularly bad mission. He’s frustrated with himself for bringing it with him, thinks maybe he should’ve cancelled, but the thought of skipping his session - both the ink and her - was too depressing.

So instead of holing up in his room and moping under the covers, he braved the storm.

The one inside and out.

Searching for calm, he licks chapped lips.

“Hey,” he says, cringing when his voice cracks.

“Hey, Buck,” she turns cheerfully, but when she sees him squinting at her through the droplets cascading down his face, his shoulders hunched and tense, she stops. Looks him up and down and her expression softens. Beckoning him back, she digs up a towel and a dry t-shirt with ‘BROOKLYN INK’ stamped across the front, ushering him to the bathroom.

“Take all the time you need. No rush.”

Bucky mumbles his thanks and shuts the door. Gripping the sink, he glares at the mirror, at the smudge of dark beneath his eyes, at the clench of his jaw. Closing his eyes, he breathes slow and deep.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He repeats the mantra, determined to settle. He’s been eager for this session all week, he’s sure as hell not ruining it because he can’t get his idiot brain to stop spinning.

When he finally emerges, he finds her arranging her work space. Halting in front of her, he keeps trembling hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“I’m afraid I’m poor company tonight,” he admits quietly.

“That’s okay. We can reschedule, Bucky,” she says softly and Bucky feels the disconcerting sting of tears. He rubs the heel of his hand against watery eyes.

“If it’s okay, I’d - I’d rather go ahead. Been looking forward to seeing you - uh, seeing you work, all week. It was just - “ he pauses and fights the temptation to spill his guts. No, he snarls internally, she doesn’t need to hear all your shit.

He clamps his mouth shut and shrugs instead.

She says nothing, but when she gives his hand a comforting squeeze, Bucky feels that familiar surge of gratitude. She guides him carefully toward the chair and he slumps into the seat, automatically tugging up his new shirt.

“Just close your eyes and breath. You’re okay.”

Bucky rests his chin on the edge of the chair. Troubled eyes flutter shut, and the comforting buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears, muting the sound of the storm raging outside. When he feels the prick of the needles, he lets out a weary breath. And when he feels the easy pressure of her fingers, he begins to relax.

For hours, she works. Firm strokes, painting the story across his skin.

The dark night begins to fade before she finally sets her tools aside. When he climbs to his feet, she pulls him into a gentle hug.

Bucky sinks into her arms.

That morning, the sun begins to shine.

*****

Bucky’s been sitting for a couple hours now, eyeing the brick wall behind the chair. A question pops into his head and he feels like a jerk for not asking sooner.

“Hey - all these hours together, and I never asked you - what made you want to draw on people for a living?”

She hums at the question, and he can hear the happiness in her reply.

“Well, I always wanted to be an artist. For my eleventh birthday, my best friend Mike gave me this set of gel pens, there were a million colors. When I told him I wanted to be a tattoo artist, he let me draw pictures all over him for practice. He insisted on being the first person I inked, once I got my license. Would always tell people he was the ‘original canvas’ for my brilliance.”

When she laughs, Bucky chuckles with her; it reminds him of Steve.

“Sounds like a good man,” he says.

“Yeah, he is - he was,” she quietly corrects herself. “He was an EOD specialist in Afghanistan. Right before he left for his last tour, I drew up plans for the arm sleeve he always wanted; he planned to get it when he finished. A month later, he was in a convoy that was moving through the Gereshk Valley in the Helmand Province, when an IED hit his vehicle. He didn’t make it home.”

The story hits home like a kick in the face.

Too many soldiers, too many lives. Bucky reaches back to still her hand. He slowly turns to face her, gently tugging the tattoo machine free and setting it aside. Wordlessly, he offers his hand and she accepts it gratefully, weaving her fingers through his. It takes a few attempts before she speaks again.

“It took me a long time to get through that. One day I met a friend working down at the VA, and I heard a vet talking about the scars on his legs. He sounded so - sad about them, you know? Kept saying he didn’t recognize himself anymore. And I just stood there thinking, maybe I couldn’t help Mike, but I could still do something.” Staring resolutely down, she considers her fingers still entangled with Bucky’s. “I did some research and took some classes and - learned how to tattoo on scar tissue.”

Bucky gazes at her. He feels a sweep of pride at the way she turned her tragedy into something beautiful.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he says and she finally looks up, meeting blue eyes bright with compassion. “But you should know, what you’re doing for people, it’s incredible. And if you don’t mind me saying, I think he’d be real god damn proud of you.”

A tear slips down her cheek and she ducks her head, her whisper so low he nearly misses it.

“Thank you Bucky.”

*****

Hours later, Bucky hears a clatter of tools and her huff of relief.

“All done.”

Wiping her hands, she pops excitedly up from the stool and Bucky pushes back from the chair to follow. Without a thought, she grabs his metal hand, tugging him impatiently over to a set of floor length mirrors along the wall. Bucky grips tight and obediently follows, his pulse racing. When she positions him at the mirror, she adjusts the panels so he can see himself from all angles.

“There, have a look.”

Along his spine, the single metal wing bursts free, so intensely realistic, Bucky’s jaw drops. It arches gracefully up, curving over his shoulder blade and sweeping down his back, razor sharp feathers tickling his rib cage before billowing out above his waist. Made from silvers and grays and shaded hints of midnight blue, it glows in the light. When Bucky reaches toward the sky, the muscles shift beneath the ink and it creates the strangest sensation of feathers unfolding.

All the scars littering his back, a flesh and bone patchwork of memories left by vicious handlers and fights too close for comfort, have disappeared. Blending into the steel of his new wing, their only purpose is to strengthen the image.

After all this time, he’s come to terms with the metal arm so unwillingly gifted all those years ago. But it’s remained a relic of a past life, something heavy, to drag him down.

But now, he rolls his shoulder back and his new metal wing lifts him higher than he’s felt in a long, long time.

*****

TATTOO 3: SHOULDER

“I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.” - Haruki Murakami

*****

“So our last session.”

“Our last session,” he murmurs.

Bucky thinks for a moment that she seems glum, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“This is a tough one,” she warns, “but I think we can do it in one session. I won’t try and cover them up, it won’t work. The best solution is to incorporate your scars into the design. Make sense?”

Bucky pictures the pattern Steve drew, bright green leaves and vines tracing the seam of his arm, melding with the thick ribbons of raised tissue. It doesn’t matter, but he timidly asks anyway.

“Will it hurt?”

“No,” she says gently. Pressing her hand to his galloping heart, she shakes her head. “It won’t hurt much there, but you need to tell me if it hurts here. You need to tell me if I should stop. Remember, you’re in charge, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Steeling himself, he whips off his shirt, balling it up in nervous hands. The cool air blowing through the shop is a relief for his overheated body.

“Do you mind if I feel the skin here? So I can make sure I approach it right?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Bucky mumbles. Staring at his hands, he waits.

Leaning close, her fingers brush over him, feeling the lines and ridges, assessing the canvas. For ten minutes, she tests his skin, lightly pushing and pressing, observing the scars and bumps where metal meets man.

“Does it still hurt?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but needs to know what she’s working with. With a grim smile, he shrugs.

“Not really. Aches sometimes, but doesn’t hurt. Can’t feel much there besides some pressure.”

Nodding, she pinches her lip. “I was thinking last night, um - would you want to add anything else into the design? Nothing big, but a few flowers? Some daisies maybe?”

“Sure, I’d like that. Any reason for daisies?” Bucky asks curiously.

Pulling out a few additional bottles of ink, she absently touches the necklace at her throat, and Bucky sees a silver daisy spinning.

“Daisies represent new beginnings. Thought it might be a nice way to end, if you like?”

Does he like it? The idea of having this small thing in common?

Hell yes he likes it.

Maybe - maybe he even more than likes it?

“Yeah. That sounds perfect,” he says softly. He swallows hard and she nods encouragingly.

“Okay. Remember - stop me if you need a break.”

This one, Bucky knows will be hard. It was the reason he left it to the end - the mental fortitude required here is much different.

As she begins, he contemplates the pink furrows gouged into his skin. The memory of how they got there flashes before him, a sick image of shredded skin raked bloody beneath his blunt fingernails. Faint screams of a past life echo in his ears, the smokey cry of his own voice desperate for relief from the pain.

Cold sweat slides down his face and he slams his eyes shut, but that seems to make it worse. The images glow technicolor bright, and he grunts a frustrated breath.

And then, through the thin latex of her glove, he feels her cool hand press against his pounding heart. Cracking an eye open, he finds her calm face and he focuses on her, until his breathing begins to ease. Blinking rapidly, he drinks in the curve of her nose, the shape of her mouth, the beauty of her eyes.

His heart stutters, stunning him into a different kind of breathless.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, wide eyes locked on hers. “Yeah, I’m okay. You can keep going.”

When she bends back to her task, Bucky melts. It occurs to him, that perhaps if she might let him, he could be content watching her forever.

But for tonight, this forever lasts only a few hours before she’s done.

And there it is.

Shades of green line his shoulder, the vines curling and winding around his scars, blending them seamlessly into the foliage covering his skin. Spidering vines trail across his chest, and it seems incompatible in a way, something alive bursting from the stark metal, but the leaves look so real, he swears they flutter with each breath he takes. Strewn throughout the greenery, small splotches of yellow and white reveal her daisies and he sucks in a breath.

For the first time in his life, Bucky stares at his scars and a foreign word comes to mind, one he never, ever thought to use.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. “They’re beautiful.”

*****

And so, after 3 months and 30 hours together, they were done.

Hands in his pockets, Bucky gazes at her. Ink on her hands, ink on his heart. It hits him then, this is it. They shuffle, making small talk, neither ready to say goodbye.

“Promise you’ll come back if you decide on anything else. Tattoos, piercings, anything,” she teases and Bucky laughs.

“Told you, I might be a little addicted,” he admits, knowing full well he means to tattoos and to her. “Soon as I can think of a reason, I’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” she says. There is a brief moment where she seems to gather her courage and then she leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a work of art, Bucky, but - you were before any of this. Remember that.”

Dazed, Bucky touches his cheek.

Indelible and perfect, the tattoo of her lips inks itself straight onto his heart.

*****

When she arrives at the shop the next day, there is a new sight sitting on the front desk.

Daisies, their white petals and yellow faces as fresh as the afternoon sunshine filtering through the window. Bemused, she looks around the bustling shop and spies the card propped beside the overflowing vase, her name scrawled across the front.

“When I got home, I stood in front of the mirror for hours, staring at your artwork. Every time I told myself to go to sleep, I found something new I loved. The tail feathers on my Phoenix or the petals of your daisies. What you’ve given me is more than I ever hoped - I can never thank you enough.

But anyway, I remembered what you said - how this kind of art is like leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin.

Well, I won’t lie - you must have done, because I miss you already.

So at the risk of being forward (although I did break into your shop and leave this, so maybe this won’t seem that forward), would you have dinner with me?

I think there’s another new beginning waiting out there, if you’d like to find it with me.

Yours,

Bucky”

At the bottom of the note, a phone number is printed.

Brushing her fingers over the delicate white petals, she pictures him, that dark haired man with eyes like blue ink, so heartbreakingly beautiful inside and out. She feels the unconscious pull of her heart, telling her all she needs to know.

A new beginning.

She says yes.

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #SSB2020 #bucky fic #bitsmasterlist #tattoos #tattoo trope

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Harrison Osterfield - A Happy Day (& A Puppy)

A/N & WC - I don't know Haz, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.2k

Warnings - Mentions of a dog rescue centre and poorly dogs, slight anxiety, copious amounts of fluff.

Summary - Today is the day you and Haz get a puppy. It's the next big step in your relationship, and despite your anxieties, you know it's a happy day.

YOUR HEART FILLS WITH GLEE at the prospect of the day. You and your boyfriend, Harrison, have been together for a long time now, by ‘young people’ standards, and have recently taken the giant step of moving in together. Only, after you lived in a flat with various different people for a long time, and after he spent so long in a house with three other blokes (where you also spent a substantial share of your time earlier in the relationship, much to your dismay,) it’s quiet with just the two of you. And not the good quiet, though sometimes it’s nice and peaceful. You’re just both so accustomed to the constant bustle of people. And the only comprisable solution you could come up with, save for moving back in with Haz’s old housemates? Get a dog.

Obviously you want to, you love dogs, but it’s also a bridge to your future.

“Are you ready to go sweetheart?” Haz shouts from the doorway, rustling with his coat, while you’re still in the bedroom.

“Do we have to?” you beg.

“Yeah we do. You want this dog, don’t you?”

“Of course I do... it’s the rest I’m anxious about.”

See, you’ve been conversing with a shelter home for some weeks now, ever since they got an influx of puppies. A big litter of little blighters, separated from their mother and left to die on the side of the road in a damp cardboard box. Thankfully, and by some kind of God-given miracle, they all survived, and many have already been adopted, but your little treasure? You were the only takers. Not that you’re complaining, obviously.

Haz appears in the doorway, his own pea coat fitted to his form perfectly, tailored and tan to suit his complexion. He holds yours out to you and edges closer to your shared bed, made and done up by him.

“I know, baby, but it’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You loose a sigh. “Is there any way we can go in the back way?”

Your own puppy eyes convince him and he kisses you. “I’ll see what I can do. If not, just close your eyes and I’ll lead the way.”

Shelters upset you immensely. How anyone could hurt a dog or abandon it is beyond you, they’re the most precious things ever and need to be protected and adored at all costs. You knew you wanted a rescue dog from the get go, but you’d never be able to bring yourself to actually scour shelters to look for a dog. You just hope this one likes you, or else Haz is gonna have to do it all himself. You can’t face the pleading faces and the imploring eyes and the sadness around the whole place. If you could, you’d buy them all, give them a good, loving home, but you can’t, and that harsh reality leaves a pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart.

“Don’t cry darling.” he coos, kissing your tears away with tender brushes of his lips.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying. How emotional can you be? Today is supposed to be happy, but you’re breaking at the first hurdle. To make the pressures worse, you know that, if you don’t take this little bean, it’ll be put down.

“Come on, it’s a happy day,” he prompts once he realises you’re no longer crying. He stands, shrugs your coat onto you, and pulls you to standing, wrapping his arms around your torso as he sways. “We’re getting a puppy!”

His sheer excitement in his voice brings joy to you too, any doubt being left behind as you sway with hum, holding him close. You’re getting a puppy.

A little more pep is in your step once you stand up, ensuring your hands are adjoined the whole time. Concealing your nerves with excitement is a solid step, so you paint on a happier face than before and clutch him close as you tug him to the front door.

“We’re really doing it, we’re getting a puppy,” you say.

He nods, keying the door open, “That we are. Think we’re ready?”

You almost howl laughing. In many ways, yes. You’re mature people in a committed relationship, you’re both incredibly responsible in all the ways that matter, and know when you need to take the next step or hold back. Getting a puppy is a huge leap, though. But you’ve thought about it, planned for it, prayed for it to work, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be ready, but it feels like a giant step. In the right direction. That’s all that matters; that, and the fact you’ll love this puppy endlessly.

“Y’know what? Yes. We’ve worked for this.”

“That we have, darling.”

Reaching the car, he places a kiss to the crown of your head. “Conserve your energy, honey. How about I drive?”

“Okay,” you answer, pecking Haz on the lips after he opens your door for you and hovers at your height until you answer him. “That means I can cuddle it on the way home.”

“It’s not an ‘it’, remember?” he chides, but the excitement is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes, “we gave it a name.”

“Bixby, and he’s a boy, I know. How long is the drive?”

You fasten your seatbelt, smiling at him as he limbers into the drivers side. He’s attuned to your subtle mood shifts now, and realises that you’re slipping more from anxiety into anticipation, and he needs to work to keep you there, soothe you so that you don’t cry at the shelter. He’s a gem is Harrison, and you know he’ll be a brilliant dog-dad. It’s a huge part of why you’ve lasted so long together. The second you saw him with Monty, you knew he was a keeper.

After strapping his own seatbelt and manoeuvring the car into gear, he reaches over and curls his fingers around your thigh, pulling on that invisible connection between you, tugging you to look at him.

When you do, he spies that your current happiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but is in part a façade. Haz loves you, but you’re the damn most sensitive soul he’s ever come across, especially when it comes to animals. The main reason the two of you got your own place was because living with people you weren’t close to took a real toll on you, as it did him—no matter how reluctant he is to admit it, the forced intimacy of it all, so this puppy is a big step to comfort you both and help you settle down to this new walk of life.

Of course the delight is there, of course you’re happy, but your slight snags and worries are visible to him too. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, leaning over to lock your lips together, applying a certain pressure, sucking on your lower lip gently as his hold on your thigh increases.

Once he pulls away, he sees the true you, calm gracing all of your beautiful features so nicely, happiness in your eyes and a wry smile on your lips, no overt anticipation of any kind.

“You can choose the music, yeah?” is all he says, offering you the twitch of a smirk before he’s locking the key into the ignition and you’re off.

You nod, whether he sees it or not, and plug your phone into the radio, allowing yours and Haz’s playlist to stream through the speakers, the melodies wrapping you in their embrace the whole journey.

One thing Haz has learnt through his time with you is that his touch grounds you. No matter what it is, as long as he’s touching you, you’re okay, your breathing regulated, your nervous habits quieted. And though you’ve never outwardly confessed it, his comfort has helped you more times than you’d ever care to admit aloud. He knows this, but no one else needs to.

Once you park up, Harrison leans over to kiss you again, more gently this time. “I’m gonna ask if there’s a way we can get you around the back, okay? Don’t want you getting upset on such a happy day.”

“Thanks babe.”

You peck his lips, but tug away almost instantly, afraid if you don’t, you’ll be here a while. He smiles, and shuts the door behind him, tapping on your window and pulling a silly face as he passes your side of the car. You wait patiently, scribbling down a list off the top of your head of things to buy for the pup. Basket, bowls, toys, mat, brush, collar, lead… you’ve already got a lot of Monty’s old things, puppy baskets he outgrew, his old crate and such like, but you’re adamant that Bixby needs a basket in every room of your place… just in case.

“Hey dreamer,” Haz’s voice snaps you from your reverie, that cute nickname he uses when you drift off into your own little world easing a smile onto your face. “He’s waiting for us, you can come in now.”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and peek over your shoulder to the little puppy holder in the back one last time, filled with a blanket and a cuddly toy. Completely unnecessary, since you plan on holding him, but Haz thought it’d be a good idea nonetheless.

He holds your hand as you tread out of the car, and the whole way into the building, and you’re glad to find a member of staff waiting to greet you with a warm handshake by the back door, happily guiding you inside to the office, more than likely. And there he is, with his big floppy ears and his droopy eyes, sitting on the chair inquisitively, looking like the prince of the palace.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” you cry, and with little reluctance, you tug away from Haz, bounding over to the puppy.

You know how startled they can get, so you ensure to stop at a safe distance, tentatively holding out your hand for the pupper to let his black nose sniffle at you, before his long pink tongue laps out and licks your hand heartily, a doggy smile breaking across his face as he pants.

“He likes me. Haz, look, he likes me!”

He chuckles, “I can see that, sweetheart.”

You firstly pat at the chestnut-dappled white fur between his ears, stroking his silken fur, before moving down his body, scruffing a little at the rolls of fat there, completely natural for a basset hound-mix. His paws are huge, though, for such a tiny dog, especially considering his stumpy legs.

“Okay, should we settle down and talk about paperwork?” says the kind lady, a completely rhetorical question.

“Come on baby, if we want Bixby to come home with us, we need to fill these forms in, yeah?”

“Yeah babe.” you nod, and glance at the only remaining available chair. “Well, Bixby, it looks like I’ll just have to pick you up. How about that?” you coo.

His tiny tail wags enthusiastically, and he slobbers another kiss to your hand, so you cautiously scoop him up and settle him on your lap once you’ve sat down.

“First of all, we need to remind you that Bixby is the... runt of the litter, and has more significant health issues than other puppies of his breed, requiring more care, including a limp and slight hearing loss in one ear, and he is small for his breed.”

“We know,” you and Harrison answer simultaneously, his one hand occupied with stroking Bixby also.

He’s dealt with business thus far, bringing Bixby blankets from the house to get him used to your scent, meeting him and meeting with the managers, filling out your application forms, making visits to the shelter. It was actually quite a miracle that you were allowed to get a puppy from here, since you both work, but due to Harrison’s schedule as an actor with press and such, he works from and near home a lot, and whenever he’s working away, despite your own job requirements, you’re able to work from home to hold the fort down. So it worked out okay. And with the compromise, they said you met the necessary guidelines to qualify for adoption with one of you almost always at home.

“And he costs £250, but he’s already been vaccinated and microchipped.” she says. You both nod; you’ve already discussed donating a hearty amount to the shelter to keep it afloat, and because Bixby should be worth a damn lot more.

For the rest of the meeting, you zone out rather a lot, only paying attention when you have to sign papers or a cheque, the rest of the time tickling and fussing your new bundle of joy, already so relaxed within your lap. The time seems to whizz by, as before you know it, you’re clambering back into the car, a towel sat over your lap, and Bixby licking happily at your cheeks.

“You know, I showed him a picture of you,” Haz says, smiling wistfully, “the first time I came to visit him. I told him you were my wife and his mum—” he trails off, and darts his eyes to yours, realising what he just blurted out with a dry mouth and knitted brows. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“You want to marry me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. One day you’re gonna be my wife, and Bixby can be the ring bearer, and everything will work out the way it should, and you won’t be sad anymore.”

“What makes you think I’m sad, babe?”

He raises his thumb to your cheek, capturing a tear before it falls. Again. He’s been stuck doing this a lot.

“Point taken, but for once these are happy tears. I’m just overly sensitive with… everything, but I promise I’m not sad.” Never with Haz, you think. You look down at the puppy, now half asleep, contentedly wagging his tail at a leisurely pace atop your thighs. “This is a happy day, isn’t it?”

“So happy, y/n. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, so much.”

He smiles, and slowly pulls out of the parking spot, ensuring to drive extra carefully, avoiding even the smallest of potholes on your journey. You keep one eye firmly on Bixby the whole time, but let the other roam your gorgeous boyfriend; the breadth of his shoulders, the veins in his hands, the intricate details in his blue orbs…

“Stop staring,” he whispers, “I can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty.”

You feel yourself flush, and turn your attention back to Bixby wholly, listening to your music as you quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more, but holds your hand over the gear stick the rest of the way.

You get a lot of attention in the pet store, carrying around a half asleep puppy with floppy ears the size of your entire face, meaning that your supposedly swift visit is elongated, but you survive, and are packed into the car shortly with everything you needed and more. A few people wanted to take a picture of Bixby, actually, having never seen a puppy basset hound in real life. You let them, leisurely trailing after Harrison as he got everything on your list, only purchasing if it passed Bixby’s sniff test.

Arriving home for the first time as a three is what makes everything seem so real, your heart overflowing with joy as you get out of the car, and walk to your door, and unlock it…

The first patter of paws on your wooden floor lets you know that this is home now, for all of you, as a family. That much is intrinsic.

“We did it. We got a puppy,” you say to Harrison, placing your hand over his chest where his heart steadily beats at a slightly faster pace.

“And we’re going to love him with everything we have.” he responds, kissing you softly, meaningfully, letting only love fill your embrace.

The skitter of Bixby’s claws coming towards you soon brings you back, though, and you begin to introduce him around the house, never once letting go of Haz’s hand. You show him the living room, where a blanket is already laid out on a sofa cushion for him to join you, and then the kitchen where his food bowls and water are, as well as his exit to the garden, and then to your bedroom, where the fluffiest basket you’ve ever seen sits in the corner, covered with swathes of blankets and scattered with toys. Treats already cover the floor all over your home, puppy training pads laid out just in case, and a hook by the front door with a blue lead dangling off it, as well as a tiny coat. Only…

“I didn’t buy this.” you say, spinning to face Haz, Bixby gnawing at his socks, rolling around at your feet.

You point towards the sturdy hook, embellished, engraved with two words. ‘Bixby Osterfield.’

“No, I did. I thought it was a nice surprise for you.”

He answers you as though it’s the most blatant thing in the universe. And really, it is something relatively small, but so thoughtful at the same time, so you open your arms wide, and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you, Haz. For everything. For this, for today, for loving me, for buying me Chinese takeout tonight.”

A laugh rips from him, his face breaking out into a wide smile, raising one hand to clutch at his chest while the other still securely encircles your waist.

“You’re more than welcome, babe. I’ll always love you. But I'm knackered.”

“Oh my God, same,” you breathe, slumping a little into him as you tickle the dog with your toes. “Who knew playing with a puppy would be so tiring?”

A low chuckle resonates from him, but he just holds you tighter, bending down to pick Bixby up as you trail over to the sofa, Haz’s footsteps silent on the glossy parquet floor of your home.

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled down, contentment filling you both, alongside ample Chinese food servings, and a fair amount of exhaustion too. Bixby has been with you the whole time, and while Haz sat down first, tugging you into his lap, legs spread wide as he lounged against the cushions a moment later, he ensured to position himself accurately on the ‘L’ shape of your sofa, so you could both reach the tiny snoozing puppy who curled into your side without a second thought.

“I’m glad we got a puppy,” you whisper into the darkness.

Night has come, the day having slipped away, and the movie you had playing is close to rolling its credits. You didn’t close your curtains but instead decided to watch the sun set and the star sparkle in the onyx sky, a stark contrast of beautiful silver, the light mirroring that that Bixby has brought into your lives.

“I am too, babe,” he replies, his nose burying into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, gently kissing your exposed skin, “how about we just settle here tonight?”

“Hmm, good plan,” is all you can muster, already feeling the tug of sleep, one hand on Bixby’s soft silken fur, the other holding Haz’s hand.

This is it, you think to yourself as you drift off, this is your family. Haz and Bixby, both of them snuggling into you, keeping you tethered, bringing you sheer joy. A happy day. All because you got a puppy.

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield writing #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield angst #leo the irregulars

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dreadlockholiday · 3 years

Text

Stucky Fic Rec List #2

by @dreadlockholiday

Another Rec List, source: my bookmarks.

Note: the FICS ARE ALL COMPLETE, while the SERIES CONTAINS SOME WIPS.

📖 Next Chapter by NachoDiablo - [Explicit; 15k words]

[Modern AU; Actor!Steve x Writer!Bucky; Tumblr Meet-Cute; Identity Porn; Bottom!Bucky]

Bucky’s life is at a bit of a standstill these days as he commits to embracing his inner hermit, brewing the perfect pour-over, and writing popular fanfic for the Avengers movie franchise. When he strikes up a friendship with Steve, the snarky yet earnest fan of his latest fic, he finds himself opening up for the first time in years. Things get more complicated, however, when Bucky realizes that Steve’s more than just an everyday fan of the Avengers. As he and Steve grow closer, Bucky will have to decide whether or not he’s ready to start moving forward again.

🥀 Just Like Before by romanticallyinept - [Explicit; 3,7k words]

[Canon Divergence; Dom!Steve x Sub!Bucky; Misunderstandings; Explicit Sexual Content; Angst with a Happy Ending]

It wasn’t ever something they talked about. Bucky never said, “I gotta let go sometimes,” and Steve never said he’d always be willing to take the reins. But they knew what worked for them, even without the conversations that Steve has read about, the ones that he knows, now, are so damn important.

He tries not to blame himself too much.

✨ Whenever You're Ready by @maddiewritesstucky - [Explicit; 5k words]

[Modern AU; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Emotional Sex; Love Confessions; Angst With a Happy Ending]

“Oh...”

It’s so soft, the sound Bucky makes. One tiny word, more breath than anything else, yet it somehow holds all the sentiment of 'of course' and 'how have I lived without this', and Steve is ruined for it.

He’s sixteen again, realising that want begins and ends with Bucky Barnes.

He is seventeen, discovering that the only thing better than getting his hands on Bucky, is getting his mouth on him.

He is eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty; bone-deep certain that for him, there will only ever be Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs. He reaches gentle fingertips to brush the hair back off Steve’s forehead; traces the stretch of Steve’s lips around him with all the tender wonder of their youth.

...Steve is thirty-nine, and he will never come back from this.

☀️ For the Summer by steebadore, CoraRochester, art by @fadefilter - [Explicit; 44,2k words]

[Modern AU; Rich!Bucky x Carpenter!Steve; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Bottom!Bucky; Angst With a Happy Ending]

Fifteen years ago, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had been two teenagers in love, spending sweltering summers in Eagle Inlet, Steve's sleepy lakeside hometown way up in the Adirondacks. Sure, Bucky's rich family only came up in summertime, but they were off to college soon and they'd be together forever, right?

Not quite.

These days, Bucky's back in town for the summer and it turns out, some hurts—and firsts—are hard to get over.

🏆 Inspecting my bruises (I got them trying to save the world) by Dancey96, art by @deisderium - [Explicit; 34,7k words]

[Modern AU; PR Agent!Bucky x Martial Artist!Steve; Enemies to Lovers; Queer Awakening; Bottom!Bucky; Happy Ending]

In the world of mixed martial arts, the Avengers Combat Tournament is the next level of competition where the athletes are the best of the best and the fighting style is almost superhuman. With hopes to succeed in the sport, Steve Rogers is struggling to garner the attention he needs from the press. Enter Bucky Barnes, a public relations agent with no interest in ACT whatsoever, but with a growing fascination for Steve.

💌 14 Valentines by jehans - [Explicit; 18,9k words]

[Shrunkyclunks; Delivery Guy!Bucky; Amputee Bucky; PTSD; Valentine's Day; Love at First Sight; Sub!Bucky; Bottom!Bucky; Rough Sex]

Someone is trying to woo Steve.

Every day in February leading up to Valentine's Day, Steve is sent an expensive, if a bit impersonal, gift from a secret admirer. And while he's less than impressed by this covert attempt to win his heart, he's very impressed by the sweet, funny, and deeply attractive delivery driver who brings these gifts to his door every day.

Bucky is amazing, and Steve is falling for him hard and fast, but each day that goes by is another day closer to Valentine's Day, and the expected end of his secret admirer's gifts. Steve had better figure out soon if Bucky's clear flirtation with him is serious, or if he's just in it for the chase. Because if he's serious, there are Things Steve would like to do...

🍁 On the nights you feel outnumbered, baby, I'll be out there somewhere by JJK - [Explicit; 12k words]

[Canon Divergence; Nomad!Steve x WW2!Bucky x Planet Hulk!Steve; Threesome M/M/M; Bottom!Bucky; Double Penetration]

“One of me’s not enough for you?” Rogers arched an eyebrow to match.

“Well, when there’s two on offer…” Bucky grinned.

or, a Nomad Steve / TFA Bucky / Planet Hulk Steve threesome fic

🐺 The Heart of My Own (burn it down low) by @minka-g - [Mature; 16k words]

[Fantasy AU; Shapeshifters; Russian Mythology and Folklore; Mythical Creatures; Mild Horror; Soulmates; Happy Ending]

As a boy of seven, Bucky sat at his babushka’s feet, listening to her croaky old voice talk of fairy tales and prophesies while her lips curled around a lit Laika, the smoke trickling from her nostrils like a tsmok from one of her stories.

His babushka was horror, and she was memory; a lingering link between a world Bucky’s mother hated and one he saw as fantastical and magical. She was the storyteller, the soothsayer and the bringer of Bucky’s dreams.

She also heralded his nightmares.

----

In a deep, dark forest, a city-weary delivery man finds more than he bargained for.

🌱 Into the Sky by Ellessey - [Teen; 3,9k words]

[Canon Divergence; Recovering!Bucky; Hurt/Comfort; Plants; Romantic Fluff]

"Maybe they were just duds," Steve says, his thumb moving gently over Bucky's hand. "We can get some more."

They were magic beans, that's what the package called them. They were supposed to sprout within a week. They were intended for ages five to ninety-five.

Maybe Bucky's just too goddamn old.

Bucky has precious little patience with himself (and even less for his horticultural endeavors), but Steve has more than enough to go around.

+ Bonus Series

🔪 Kinktober 2020 by @wayward-lives - [Explicit; 80,2k words]

Prompts filled: Handjob; Eating Out; Thigh Riding; Choking/Spanking; Daddy Kink; Blinfolded; Blowjob; Voyeurism; Accidental Stimulation; Knife Kink; Restraints; Fingering; Public Sex; Sixty-Nine; Size Difference; Toys; Begging; In the Kitchen; Double Penetration; Edging; Phone Sex; In the Shower/Tub; First Time; BDSM/Rough Sex; Caught Masturbating; Overstimulation; Orgy; Praise Kink; Dirty Talk; Mutual Masturbation; Dressed Up.

#stucky fic rec #stucky fanfic #fic rec #rec list #dready's fic recs #q

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

Text

Tiptoe around this (Poe Dameron x reader)

Summary: Poe x short!reader. He CANNOT deal with your smolness.

Rating: TEEN

Author’s note: I’m doing soft blurbs this week bc you all deserve a hug from one of our fave fictional husbands. Let’s all destress and be comforted one blurb at a time, okay? (I’m doing these quickly so I can complete as many as I can for you, so they’ll be a bit scrappy, please forgive!) This one deleted itself and then I ahd to recreate it from nothing. The first version was better and probably had fewer typos but here we are. Ran out of time to check before dinner!

Warnings: short!reader; kissing (mildly steamy, no smut or implied smut).

GIF: @thestarwarsdaily LOOK HOW PRETTY

Poe’s dying. He swears he’s dying.

He’s doing his best to obscure this fact from Rey and Finn, however, so continues engaging in casual chat all the while as he hurtles towards his demise.

Poe’s dying, and, cause of death? Your cuteness.

Poe watches you surreptitiously from across the hangar. Watches as you realise someone has stolen your step ladders again, despite the fact you etched your kriffing name onto them in Aurebesh last time this happened. And so, to reach the tools you need -valiantly struggling on with your tasks anyway- you clamber up the face of the shelves and stretch to your full length as you attempt to grab down the box.

It appears you can’t quite reach them, even having climbed into a pretty precarious position.

The trouble is, you’re just too kriffing smol.

And it kills Poe. Every single time.

Of course, your height is only one of the reasons he likes you. He’s never even had a preference for his partner’s height before, to be honest. There’s just something about you. Something about how short you are which brings out his protective instincts. Makes him want to hold you and take care of you and spoil you. And Poe is already the type of guy to spoil his partner, so you can imagine how he feels about you.

Oh, and it certainly helps that you’re so kriffing gorgeous too. And funny. And nice. And did he mention SMOL?

Poe would never be patronising towards you because of your size, of course. He knows you’ve been underestimated plenty of times because of it - by both the enemy and allies- and without good reason! You might be cute to a lethal degree, but Poe is also well aware that you’re badass, capable, intelligent, and fierce. Small but mighty, you could say.

Still, when he sees you on your tippy toes trying to reach the box of parts, his heart melts and dribbles out of his feet. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like.

Death, by cuteness.

As you continue to persevere, Poe stops pretending to listen to Finn and Rey’s chatter altogether, a dopey smile settling on his face. He stands from the chair he’s straddling to zoom over to you, before some other handsome, height-endowed recruit can come to your assistance. He couldn’t have that, now, could he?

“Hey,” he says from behind you, a warm and gentle hand settling on your shoulder in greeting. “Can I help you?”

Poe hopes he can reach the damn shelf, because whilst he’s certainly taller than you are, he’s not exactly Chewy. Now, that would be embarrassing.

“Sure,” you say, even as you huff and puff, successfully grappling the box down to the floor without any further intervention. You recognise the Commander’s familiar, sandy voice before you even turn around, but when you do, you flash him a warm smile, and he could swear -if you killed him a moment ago- that smile has revived him back to life. “You can tell your damn recruits to stop stealing my ladders, Commander. I wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour from my squadron.”

You’re adorable, for sure, but there’s a fire in your eyes telling Poe you are not to be messed with. In fact, he’s sure that given half a chance you could raze the whole First Order to the ground, even if you did the whole thing on your tip toes.

Poe simply looks at you goofily, trying to remember how to speak, your eyes big as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes. You’re basically a whole head shorter than him, if not more, and he can’t help but want to pull you into a hug, imagining how it would feel to enfold you against his chest and rest his chin on top of your head as his arms wound around you.

“Commander?” you ask again, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “I’m sick of doing everything on my tiptoes - I’m not a ballerina.”

Your gesture brings him back to the real world, and he notices the rolled-up sleeves of your flight suit as they hover in front of his face, his eyes dropping to the rolled-up cuffs of the legs resting on top of your boots. Standard-issue is too long for you and… yes, you’ve guessed it…

Kriffing adorable.

“Sure thing, Commander,” he finally says, still retaining that dopey, lovestruck expression on his face.

You nod to thank him, getting lost in his umber eyes somewhere along the way. He’s always entirely flustered when he speaks to you, and quite frankly, it’s so adorable that it makes your heart melt out of your feet. At least, that’s what it feels like.

You like Poe, and you think he likes you, but... both of you have been tiptoeing around this for far too long now.

“You know, there’s maybe one thing I like to do on my tiptoes,” you say with a knowing smirk as Poe looks helplessly between your eyes and lips, helplessly lost in yearning.

“What’s that?” he asks, and he can swear he intended the words to come out at a normal volume, despite the fact a mere whisper is all that emerges. Still, he’s happy as it causes you to lean in closer.

“Kissing,” you say with a gentle suggestion in your eyes, voice breathy and matching his hushed tones. You think it’s about time one of you makes a move, and it may as well be you.

Poe visibly gulps, and shuffles his feet a little closer to you.

Is this really happening?

He’s not sure how many times he can die and be reborn in one day, if he’s honest. The implication of your words and in your eyes encourages him though. Besides, he’s waited long enough for this moment, and now is as good a time as any, right?

“Kissing, huh? Well, honey, do you think you’d need to be on your tiptoes to kiss me?”

Your tongue darts out over your bottom lip, and an eagerness swells in your whole being, your body tingling with nerves and heat. Your mouths inch towards one another as if magnetised, your chin tipping up and his head stooping lower to greet you, as months of tension is compressed into the diminutive space between you.

“Guess we should find out,” you suggest with a sultry smirk, pausing a small distance from his lips, sharing the same air in the tight space between you.

Poe wraps his arms around your back, his hands feeling large and broad against you. You feel delicate encased in his strong arms, and you grab firmly at the holsters around his wide hips, tugging him close and bringing his body flush to yours. Poe feels warm and big and sturdy pressed against you. You’ve always been independent and capable, and yet there is something about Poe Dameron which makes you want to swoon for him, if only he would pledge to protect and care for you in all the ways your diminutive form might suggest you need him to.

Poe’s face inches closer and closer to yours, his lips pausing a hair’s breadth away from yours as your eyes fan shut, leaving you wanting. You swear your lips are tingling from the near-contact alone, crying out to brush with his.

“Oh oh,” he teases. “Can’t reach.”

You smile as you stand up on your tiptoes, closing the distance in an instant and crushing your lips to his, finding them soft, a hint of stubble grazing your cheek and he tips his head to the side. Upon contact, his tongue melds immediately with yours, deftly probing the cave of your mouth and melting you from within. Your hands slide up and up, coming to rest with your fingers laced around his neck, slipping into his hair.

As the kiss sparks and grows, Poe’s arms wrap firmly around your waist, and he bundles you up towards him, easily taking most of the weight of you, until your toes are entirely lifted off the floor as the kiss reaches its peak. You feel like you’re floating, in every sense.

Breathless and floored by that kiss, Poe sets you gently down, idiotic grins spreading across both of your faces as you stand there for a moment, still holding each other close. Poe looks down at you with adoration shining in his eyes, backlit with a gentle heat.

Feet back on the ground, more or less, you look self-consciously around as you both become suddenly aware of the hubbub created by the fact you both did that in the middle of the hangar.

Oops.

When your eyes look up at Poe again, he still has the softest, lovestruck smile on his pretty face.

“See you later?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah. I hope so,” you respond, returning his smile, and you stand on your toes to plant a quick chaste kiss to his cheek, cupping his face in your hand. You could swear his skin darkens in embarrassment, and he turns from you with the most bashful and adorable expression you’ve seen on his face yet.

You’re dying, you think. You must be dying. Death by cuteness.

You ignore the commotion you’ve caused, for the most part, and you watch Finn accost Poe for gossip as he tracks across the hangar. You see Rey beelining for you too, the dumbest grin on her face, and you turn back to your work as you notice her approach, taking a much-needed moment to catch your breath.

You kissed him. Poe Dameron. Your long-time crush.

It was true, that the two of you have both spent far too long tiptoeing around this, but it seems that Poe has finally swept you off your feet. It’s safe to say that you’ve never been so glad in your life to be too short to reach a shelf. Funny then, that his kiss has you feeling ten feet tall.

What’s more, this the last day that anyone steals your stepladders. Poe sees to that. Ain’t no-one gonna mess with his precious, smol bean. At least, not if he has anything to do with it.

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron imagine #short!reader #petite!reader #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars fic #oscar isaac

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ssscentral · 3 years

Text

Traveller

Summary : Jung Hoseok loves you, regardless of what universe you’re in and he’s going to make sure to find you no matter what. Good thing you feel the same.

Pairing : Dimension Traveller!Jung Hoseok x Dimension Traveller!Reader

Genre : Fluff, Established Relationship!Au, Sci-Fi, Fantasy!Au, College!Au

Rating : PG13

Warnings : Swearing

Wc : 4.7k

Member : Hoebii || @hoebii

A/N : First of all, thank you @eatjeanjin and @kerikaaria for being my amazing betas! You’re what made this story even readable ukfhgj Second, HAPPY BIRTHDAY @moccahobi!!! ILYSM HOPE YOU HAVE A BLAST TODAY BB <3 I hope you like this fic, I literally crammed 12 prompts into this fic and made this hot mess in a few hours lmao so hope this isn’t too hard to read sksksksk. Love you lots Lil bean, happy birthday and thank you for existing, you’re such a precious bb, always there for everyone. You deserve the world, love <33 Also the time stamp for the text isn’t canon, so ignore the time!

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“You will be transported to a new dimension after spending one month in each of them for this experiment,” the animated voice crackled from the speakers. “The inhabitants in those universes will already have memories of you to help you blend in easily. You are to live a normal life during these experiments while making sure not to disclose your true identities for that may cause unnecessary complications.”

The voice kept going on about the experiment that you no longer had any interest in after the first few minutes. You fiddled with the necklace around your neck in boredom while you waited for the meeting to be adjourned. This wasn’t the first time you were going to travel between dimensions and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last, so having to sit through the same briefing over and over again felt completely useless and a waste of time.

The only reason you even attended these were to get your files for the potential dimensions you may get sent to. The management really needed to get their shit in control and stop sending you to these places with little to no information.

You understood that these experiments were to test out the stability and how each universe was doing after being created but it made no sense for the management to send out travellers blindly like they do, they could at least provide you with a little backstory for your character rather than a list of ’potential’ places. Even those weren’t certain and that made no sense! For an organisation that thrived to keep peace and regulation of all dimensions, their system was chaotic as fuck.

You only came out of your thoughts when you felt someone nudge your leg under the table. Glancing up from your necklace, your eyes met that of a cheeky looking Hoseok who was now pushing a little harder against your leg, now that he had your attention.

‘Hi,’ he mouthed happily only for you to answer with a raised eyebrow. ‘I miss you,’ he mouthed again, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. You snorted at his antics, coughing to hide your smile when the sound caught the attention of those around you.

It was only when they shifted their attention back to the screen at the end of the room to continue with the briefing that was ongoing, did you finally look back at Hoseok. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a pen and tore a paper from the diary they provided for the meeting before hastily scribbling down something and sliding it to the man sitting in front of you.

‘We’re literally sitting in front of each other.’

Hoseok picked up the paper and quickly read the content on it before grabbing his own pen to write his answer down and passing it back to you.

‘But I can’t hold your hand right now :(‘

You bit your lip to stop the smile that was fighting to shine through when you saw his adorable handwriting under yours. How someone could be as endearing as Hoseok was beyond you, but you loved that about him.

Wordlessly, you pretended to pay attention to the briefing once more while you slid your hand towards Hoseok to let him hold your hand. You could feel the way his smile brightened when his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently.

You shook your head as you bit your lips harder to fight the smile that was now on your face when you squeezed his hand back.

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

Walking out of the conference room, your hand was still engulfed by Hoseok’s bigger one. Your face was flushed in embarrassment as you walked out. It wasn’t because you were holding his hand, but rather the fact that he never let go after the meeting was over. So you had to walk from your seat to the end of the table with the said furniture in the middle of you as you walked.

“If I didn’t love you as much as I do, I would’ve kicked your ass by now, just so you know,” you grumbled as you walked down the corridor towards your shared room.

Hoseok laughed, his grip around your hand tightening as he bumped his shoulder with yours. “Good thing you love me then! It would be a nightmare to jump between dimensions with you otherwise.”

“Who said it’s still not a nightmare to have you as my partner?”

“Don’t be rude.”

“Make me,” you teased before quickly freeing your hand from his and running towards your destination.

“Come back here!”

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

It was the day of action, as you liked to call it, the day when you were supposed to start experiments.

“You ready?” Hoseok asked as he came to join you in the transport chamber.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Promise to find each other no matter what?” he asked while putting his pinky finger out, smiling at you.

You laughed as you wrapped yours around his. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you around then.”

You only hummed in agreement before pressing the power button on the transport bracelet and the world went dark.

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

You woke up to the blaring alarm of your phone, blindly looking for the device to turn the godforsaken sound off. When you failed to find it, you pushed yourself up from your bed to scan the area, getting more irked the longer the sound went on.

Finally, your eyes landed on the black vibrating phone on the ground and you had half a mind to just stomp on the damn thing and break it. Picking it up, you harshly tapped on the stop button and sighed when the apartment went quiet, closing your eyes to bask in the peace.

Wait. Apartment?

Your eyes shot open again as you examined your surroundings, trying to decipher which universe you were in currently. The place seemed like any other average looking apartment in a bustling city. You unlocked your phone when you felt it vibrate in your hand, realising it was a text from someone saved as ‘Chicky Chimmy’.

Opening the conversation, your confusion only grew at the text.

“I’m a student, huh?” You pondered as you grabbed a random outfit for the day along with what you assumed to be your books on the reading table in your room. You then proceeded to head down and out of your apartment. “Could’ve been worse.”

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

Stepping out of the elevator, you saw your… friend impatiently leaning against his car looking at you with displeasure all over his face. You gave him a sheepish smile as you approached him, praying to whatever higher power that he says his name for one reason or another. From the previous conversations you had after taking some time to go through your phone, the two of you were supposed to be best friends so you weren’t in a position to ask his name.

“Y/N our class starts in 30 minutes and it takes 30 minutes to get there!”

“Hehe?”

He faced palm, moving to go around to the driver's seat. “Just get your cute butt inside.”

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

The moment Chimmy parked his car inside the university, he dashed out of the car with you close behind, panicking about how mad the professor was going to be for being late.

You almost bumped into him when he stopped in front of a classroom, shooting you a nervous glance before slowly stepping inside the class. The two of you couldn’t even get two steps in before the voice of the man teaching the class boomed across the room.

“Y/L/N Y/N and Park Jimin. Late again, I see?”

Again? How many times have we been late before? Jimin’s a cute name though, perfect for him. You smiled slightly at your thoughts before fixing your expression to be neutral before the professor could catch you.

“We’re so sorry professor! This will be the last time!” Jimin pleaded, fidgeting on his spot.

“That’s what you said last time, Mr. Park,” the professor replied, looking unamused.

“Pro-”

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” A new voice joins, the person who barged in after the two of you hunched over and panting from surely having run to class.

“Mr. Jung Hoseok, I did not expect such tardiness from you.”

Hoseok! You felt your heart rate kick up just at the mention of his name. It’s not often the higher ups make it easy to find your partner but it seemed that they were feeling courteous this time.

Hoseok’s eyes met yours and he flashed you a giant smile, one that had his eyes turning into crescents before looking back at the professor with a dashin smile. “I’m sorry sir, it surely won’t happen again.”

The professor sighed, rolling his eyes when he looked back at Jimin and you before muttering, “That’s what they always say.” Shaking his head, the professor gave a small nod. “Go to your seats and don’t be late again. Especially the two of you, Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Park.”

Jimin bowed before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the back of the room, taking a seat and patting the one beside him urgently. Glancing at Hoseok one last time, you sat beside Jimin.

You couldn’t help but pout at the sight of Hoseok sitting somewhere else and already interacting with the strangers around him as if he knew them for a long time. He was always a social butterfly but it was always shocking to see him get accustomed to new universes so easily.

“You look amazing today, just so you know,” Jimin whispered in your ear, his eyes trained on the board even as he spoke.

“Thanks.”

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

It was lunch time and Jimin had basically dragged you to the cafe near the university, claiming that cheap and instant coffee was the only thing his body needed to go through the day.

“Coffee is great and all but you need actual food too, you know,” you nagged Jimin as he downed his second cup of coffee in one sitting.

Placing the brown coffee cup down, Jimin raised his index finger as if giving a speech. “People need a lot of things, doesn’t mean they have it though.”

You gave Jimin an unimpressed look. “Stop trying to be a philosopher and get some food in you, tiny.”

“I’m literally taller than you.”

“I will fight you, Park Jimin.”

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

“I still don’t get why we need to do this,” you grumbled as you stretched your hands and legs.

“Because,” Jimin said, dribbling the orange basketball as he waited for you to finish. “Warming up is important before starting any exercise to decrease the chances of pulling a muscle or something.”

You snort at that, stretching one last time before dropping your hands. “You make it sound like I’m going to exercise.”

“Y/N we’re literally in PE class.”

“And?”

Jimin could only give you an unamused look before shaking his head in defeat, his newly dyed pink hair bouncing from his movement.

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

You were sitting in the library surrounded by textbooks for the upcoming exam when you felt someone pull out the chair in front of you and take a seat. Paying them no mind, you continued drowning yourself with new information from the book when you felt someone nudge your leg under the table.

You glanced up from the textbook in front of you to see none other than Jung Hoseok sitting in front of you with a smile. Just before you could shoot him a smile and delve into a conversation, your brain reminded you of the fact that it had been a week since you came to this dimension and this the first time he tried to come talk to you after seeing each other in that one class on day one.

Scoffing, you looked back down at your book, ignoring the way he nudged your leg again to get your attention.

“Are you mad at me?” He finally asked when he realised that you were ignoring him.

“What do you think?”

“What did I dooooo?”

You slammed the pink covered book in your hand shut, looking him in the eye. “What did you do? Oh I don’t know, maybe because you basically ignored me for a week? Acted as if I don’t exist?”

Hoseok frowned, trying to take your hand in his but you moved away from him. “I’m sorry baby. I’ve just been so swamped with work. Did you know I’m the dance club leader and a part of the student council in this universe? I swear I would’ve come up to you earlier if I had the time!”

“I tried talking to you a few days back, you acted as if you didn’t even know me,” you replied, not being able to hide the hurt from your tone. “You didn’t seem busy then, you were just having lunch and laughing with your friends.”

“Baby…”

You sighed, pushing away the chair and standing up. “Forget it, I’ll see you around, Hoseok.” Collecting your books, you gave Hoseok one last look before walking away.

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

You were currently playing with the dog Jimin recently adopted on his couch when he plopped down beside you with snacks. You had come over for movie night but now you were more interested in playing with his dog than the movie.

“So you going to tell me why the Jung Hoseok has been following you around like a lovesick puppy for the past week?”

“No, because there’s nothing to say,” you replied, not paying much attention due to the energetic puppy that was jumping about on your lap.

Jimin groaned, placing the bowl of snack down on the coffee table and then taking the chocolate coloured labrador puppy away from you - much to your protest. “Stop playing with Doggo and give me the tea!”

“I still can’t believe you named your dog Doggo.”

“That is not the main topic of this conversation and you know it!”

You sighed, rolling your eyes so hard that your head hurt a little. “There’s nothing to say, Hoseok and I talked in the library when I was studying for the test and then had a little argument and I left.”

Jimin scoffed, his lips pulling into a pout as he crossed his arms. “That’s the weakest tea I’ve ever gotten. Give me the details! Since when do you two know each other enough to be having ‘fights’?”

“I-” you stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse. “We don’t! He just approached me in the library and I found him really annoying.”

Jimin gave you a skeptical look. “Y/N… You’ve had a crush on him for like a year now. You find him annoying?”

“Yes?” You answered, though it sounded more like a question. “What do you want me to say something like ‘Oh we’re actually dimension travellers and know each other from before and this is all just an experiment? Don’t be ridiculous!” You rambled, laughing nervously when you realised that you had basically just exposed yourself.

“Huh?”

“Listen! I liked him but he’s actually annoying, so that’s over.”

“If you say so…” Jimin conceded hesitantly, still looking at you skeptically which now looked more concerned.

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

You had successfully avoided Hoseok like the plague for almost the remainder of the time you had in this dimension. You knew what you were doing was petty and it really wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t come talk to you at first, but now you were in too deep to stop being petty. Not that it stopped Hoseok from trailing after you anytime he could, trying to get you to talk to him.

“Y/N, please stop!” You heard Hoseok call from behind you but you kept walking, ignoring him like you usually did. “Oh for fuck sake,” you heard him grumble before you felt someone grab you by your wrist and twirling you around for their lips to press against yours.

You were about to push them off when you realised that it was Hoseok who had kissed you, not a random person and you unconsciously melted into it. Your arms slithered around his neck to pull him closer as his hands wrapped around your waist to move closer to you too.

Breaking the kiss, Hoseok pressed his forehead against yours while looking you in the eyes. “It’s the last day here before we move on and who knows how long it’s going to take us to find each other there. Stop being mad, please?”

Not being able to help yourself, you placed a kiss on his nose, stepping away from him and smiling cheekily. “I’ll see you around, Hoseok.”

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

“YOU KISSED HOSEOK IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CORRIDOR! OH MY GOD I NEED THE DETAILS!” Jimin exclaimed when you met up with him after school. He was your ride home after all.

You only laughed, your face flushed in embarrassment. “Uh huh, how about I tell you all about it tomorrow?”

“Promise?” He asked, looking at you in disappointment that he couldn’t get you to tell him everything right then.

You shook your head, looking away from him. “We’ll see.”

No point in making a promise that you knew you couldn’t keep it. You were going to leave tonight, who knows if you’ll ever come back here or if he would ever remember you once you left.

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

The next time you opened your eyes, you were underwater. At first, panic took over you from the possibility of you drowning. But when you opened your mouth, rather than feeling the water rushing in and suffocating you, you found out that you were completely fine.

“Huh?” You blurted out Your eyes widened when you realised that you could hear yourself clearly underwater too. Looking around, your eyes zeroed in on the shimmering tail that began from your waist down. “HUH?!”

You looked around only to see nothing but water, a few fish swam by you but that was about it. It wasn’t your first time in a fairytale universe but it was your first time being a mermaid. You wondered if Hoseok got transformed into some sort of mythical creature like you too.

“Oh well, I hope he’s safe.”

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

You didn’t know how much time passed but you were still blindly swimming around trying to find out where to go. You had breached the water at one point and sat on some rocks by a beach in true fairytale mermaid fashion but even then you found nothing of interest. You did get to sit and watch the clear blue waves peacefully for a while but that got boring after some time, too.

“I never thought I’d miss wearing sandals but here I am,” you sighed to yourself before jumping back into the water.

You were just about ready to give up and just sit on the sea bed when you saw a cave underwater. You couldn’t help but snort at how similar this felt to the fairytale ‘Little Mermaid’ you used to read when you were younger. All you needed was some evil old witch to be residing in there and a prince charming to drown some time soon so you could save him and lose your voice.

Having nothing better to do, you began swimming down to the cave to explore it when you felt someone grab you and drag you away from the cave entrance urgently.

“What the fuck? What are you doing, let me go!” You exclaimed as you tried to wiggle free from your captor.

“Stop struggling, you’re going to get us caught by the hag!” A deep voice harshly whispered in your ear.

The mention of a hag had you stop struggling. “Caught by the what now?”

You felt your captor loosen their grip around you, giving you the perfect chance to move away from them. You turned to come face to face with a beautiful man… er merman?

“The hag? Evil sea witch out to get merfolks?” the man asked, looking at you incredulously at the fact that you seemingly had no idea as to who the hag was. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“I guess you could say that. I’ve been swimming for ages now and you’re the first creature I found,” you explained.

The man hummed, tapping his lips as he scanned you over before breaking out into a large boxy smile. “Well then, nice to meet you! I’m Taehyung, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

Taehyung gasped when he heard your name. “Y/N? As in Y/L/N Y/N?”

“Why do you know my name?” You asked cautiously. Fuck, were you supposed to know who he was? If that was the case then why were you transported away from them, also he didn’t seem to know you before you introduced yourself.

“Princess! Welcome!”

Excuse me, WHAT?! You choked on nothing. “Who?”

“You! Princess! Welcome!”

When you were thinking about this universe being a knock-off ‘Little Mermaid’ universe, you didn’t think that would be the right assumption.

Not knowing how to act, you shot Taehyung an awkward smile, waving a little. “Thank you?”

“You have to meet the others! Let’s go, princess!” Taehyung exclaimed excitedly before grabbing your hand and swimming away from the cave.

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

After Taehyung had brought you to others, you met 5 other mermen - each almost unimaginably beautiful. It was a pleasant surprise to see this dimension’s Jimin, he was just as sweet and excitable as the one before.

After the initial meet-up, you got to know that you were indeed the daughter of Triton - something that had you laughing at the absurdity for a good five minutes much to the confusion of others - and you were supposed to be visiting ‘your kingdom’ to get acquainted with everyone before your coronation and living here.

As Taehyung had escorted you to your room, you had joked that all you needed was a handsome man to drown so you could save him. Which, in hindsight may have been a very weird thing to say from the look Taehyung gave you.

Currently, you were exploring the kingdom, asking people if they knew of anyone by the name Hoseok, only to end up with no clue as to where he might be. No one had any idea about Jung Hoseok and you were getting worried about not managing to find him.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realise that you had left the premises of the city and wandered away. You stopped in your tracks when a giant shadow moved above you, completely leaving you in the dark.

You looked up to see what blocked the sun when you realised you were directly underneath two ships, the sound of fighting barely audible under the water but present nevertheless. Curiosity getting the best of you, you cautiously swam up to peak above at what was going on, only to find that a full on war was ongoing between the two ships.

“Damn, am I in a Grimm Brothers Fairytale or the Pirates of The Caribbean movie right now?”

You didn’t have much time to ponder, however, because you noticed someone eerily similar to Hoseok going overboard and you dove underwater for him.

“I swear if that’s actually Hoseok, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Catching the sinking body, you almost wanted to let him go so you could swim over and slam your head against a rock when you realised, it was indeed Hoseok.

Muttering a few curses under your breath, you proceeded to drag Hoseok towards the beach close by to make sure he didn’t drown before you could give him a piece of your mind.

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

Hoseok sat up abruptly, his nose, throat and eyes burning as he coughed violently. “Mother of bitch, that’s salty,” he spoke, his voice hoarse from almost drowning.

“Of course it is! What were you doing on a pirate ship?!” You exclaimed, hitting his thigh with your palm.

“Y/N?” He asked, his eyes widening when he realised that it was you in front of him.

“The one and only.”

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright!” Hoseok exclaimed, pulling you to his chest and resting his head on top of yours after placing a kiss there.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said, your voice muffled by his chest from the way he held you close.

“Hm? What was your question?” He asked, letting you go to face you properly.

“What were you doing on a pirate ship?”

“Ah! I’m the captain!”

“What? Why don’t I get to be badass characters like you,” you whined looking away from him petulantly.

“You don’t need a character to be badass, you’re a natural one!” He happily answered, grabbing your chin to make you face him. “You look beautiful baby, but how’d you find me?”

“Are you telling me that you didn’t notice this huge ass tail I have?”

Looking down at your words, his eyes widened, voice rising in pitch with his excitement. “Oh my god you have a tail! You’re a mermaid!”

“Gee? Am I?! Wow Hoseok, thank you for enlightening me!” You mocked his excitement. You didn’t want to act so short with him but the adrenaline running through your body after basically finding the one you love drowning had your brain going haywire.

“Are you mad at me again?”

“I don’t know, Hoseok. Am I?”

“You know I don’t choose the roles I get!”

You sighed, feeling guilty for the way you acted towards him. “I know, it’s just. At first I couldn’t find you anywhere and when I did, you were drowning and it just fucked me up. I know I was joking about how I’m Ariel from Little Mermaid and I need to save a drowning prince but this was not what I was expecting.”

Understanding as ever, Hoseok gave you a sad smile before pulling you back into his embrace again, running his hand through your hair in the way he knew you loved. “It’s okay, I understand. I’d be worried too if I were you, just don’t be mad at me, you know I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“‘M sorry.”

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked after the two of you basked in each other’s warmth for a moment.

You pulled back from him, scrunching your nose at him, feeling shy when you noticed how intensely he was looking at you. Grabbing the collar of the shirt he was wearing, you pulled him down for a kiss, pouring out all your emotions into it - from how much you cared for him to how sorry you were for the way you acted. You hoped that he would understand.

Hoseok kissed you back with just as much emotion, pulling you close and smiling into the kiss. Breaking away from it, he gave you a blinding smile, one that had your heart melting like butter.

“I love you,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would make you break from all the emotions that were rushing through your heart.

“I love you too. I need to go now, can see my ship coming towards us.”

You nodded, not really processing his words, too busy staring at his gorgeous face. Hoseok realised the fact you didn’t pay attention to his words, making him smile wider. Waving a hand in front of your face, Hoseok chuckled when you seemed as if just coming out of a trance.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

Hoseok threw his head back in laughter. “I said, I can see my ship coming towards us as we speak so I reckon it’s time to leave, baby. I’ll make sure to come visit you here as much as I can in the time we’re here.”

“Promise?” You asked, offering your pinky to him as you looked at him through your lashes.

“Promise,” Hoseok answered, wrapping his finger around yours, giving you one last smile as he stood back up.

“I’ll see you around, alright?”

“I’ll see you around.”

With that you swam back to the sea, waiting just out of sight to make sure that Hoseok was okay before actually leaving.

You might travel to various places with no certainty of what you may face but one thing was for sure, you’d always find your way to Hoseok.

#jung hoseok x reader #j-hope x reader #jung hoseok fluff #j-hope fluff #bts jung hoseok x reader #bts j-hope x reader #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #castlebangtan #bts!au #bts fluff #jhs fluff

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who-ever-said-i-was-nice · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I ask an ikevamp request where the boys find MC's sketchbook and is filled with drawings and doodles of them? If all of the suitors is to much, then just do for Jean, Will, Theo, Mozart, Leo and Comte. Have a nice day! ^^

Bruh this is a genius idea @jeanstan . First of all thanks so much for this request and second of all of coarse I will do all the suitors. Why? Because I’m awesome. No I’m kidding, I’m literally the most clumsy, airheaded person on this planet. Think brain fried Kaminari energy. Also I’m really sorry this took this long. Anywhooo let’s get into it shall we. Tags: @nad-zeta

Ilevamp suitors finding mc’s sketchbook

Comte

you where just chilling in his armchair and doodling him when sleep over took you and fell asleep

being the gentleman he is he picked you up and set you down on his bed tucking you in nicely

then he noticed your sketchbook on the armchair

not even mr. Perfect-guy can resist tacking a little peek at it

so he just looked at the page that was already open

an there he saw a pretty good drawing of him

Comte to his brain: take a peek you said. it will be fine you said. why are you looking through it. you said.

yup he ended up going through your entire sketchbook

he then wrote a little thank you next to your most recent drawing and set it next to you.

when you saw his little note you blushed, but at least he liked it

Leonardo da sleepy

you where both just sitting in the library

you got a bit hungry so you left to get a snack but you accidentally left your notebook there

you know this guy has a thirst for knowledge and that includes figuring out what’s in your notebook

he will pick it up and flip it open expecting to see notes or random drawings

nope nope he sees a bunch of drawings of him with notes like * damn that smile owns my heart* or * UUUUUUH why is he so annoyingly adorable*

This guy has the biggest smirk plastered on his face. when you come back into the room

“ I didn’t know I was annoyingly adorable Cara mia”

cue you turning tomato red

Napoleon

you where sparring ( or where watching the boys spar whatever fits)

after a few rounds you decided to get a drink and offered to bring drinks for the boys too

Jean excused himself and went to the bathroom and Leon was left alone

now your sketchbook was already just on the ground next to your hoodie

he didn’t touch it ‘cause he’s nice, but now..

he decided to take a peek

and he saw a sketch of him sparring

he flipped through it and found more pictures

him sleeping, him laughing, him teaching the kids the best thing that would describe him in this moment that meme: mha heart mah soul

and you catch him with the notebook in his hands

he just walks up to you and hugs you

Isaac

little bean

he stumbles across it by accident, literally stumbles

you dropped it and he tripped on it

he’s like the f is this?

he picks it up and opens it

oh my Lord

he’s as red as an apple ( pun intended😏)

there are a bunch of doodles of him some where he’s holding Harry, some where it’s only him looking through his telescope or just off into the distance

you: Hey Isaac have you seen my...

Isaac: no I haven’t seen the notebook, idk about a notebook, what is a notebook even

poor boy

you just hug him and reassure him you’re not mad, when he mumbles an apology

Jean

precious bean yes Isaac, Jean and Vincent are all beans. COME @ ME

so you carried that notebook around everywhere you went and while he is not as attentive as Arthur he still noticed

so when you left your notebook in his bedroom after bringing him breakfast he couldn’t resist the urge to take a peek

when he sees a bunch of drawing of him he’s..torn

on one hand he’s moved and is actually happy that you drew him on the other he doesn’t understand why you would want to draw someone as impure as him akgkgakgskgfau LOVE HIM PLS

when you come back into the room you panic a little ‘cause he’s staring at it with a blank expression

but then he apologizes and your panic melt away

he ask you why you drew him and you if play the “because I love you” card he will be shocked and happy and confused and surprised...( the list is so long A decided it would be best to just ad an etc. over here)

you hug him and reassure him he is important and you love him

Arthur

ok so he knew that the sketchbook was important to you right of the bat

being the annoying sweet person he is he decides to pester you more then ever

“ Whatcha got there Luv?” “It’s my notebook” “Can I see what’s inside” *flashes a severely annoyed look* “Arthur this is the 7th time today and i have the same answer. No.” “ Oh come on doll it’s just a peak” “It is closed for a REASON!”

Yeah you might have snapped at him a little but his ho guy ain’t giving up

so of coarse when you leave your notebook in his room he will act like he didn’t notice until you leave and then he will scramble out of his chair and nab the notebook

he opens it expecting a diary or just a bunch of notes only to come face to face with a bunch of pictures of him

he’ll raise an eyebrow and keep looking until he finds a very beautiful and realistic drawing of him sleeping with Vic and he looses his shit

he’ll run to you and pull you back into the room to cuddle and tell you how much he loves you no he’s definitely not crying

you don’t get what’s happening until he tells you he saw your drawing and you will turn slightly pink but honestly you just can’t be mad

Mozart

ok so we all know that when he finds this notebook he’ll be stone-faced

you ain’t getting no type of emotion out of this tsuntsun

that is until he’s in public

once he’s in his room oh boy

at first it’s just a hint of a smile, but it gets bigger and bigger until he’s smiling like a dork as he inspects your drawings

he’ll never admit it but the fact that you drew him really warmed his icy heart

he even finds one where he’s by a Christmas tree smiling and a little note next to it saying “I’ll make him smile like this one day”

he closes the book and puts on his stone face again and leaves his room

in the corridor he runs into you

“ Hey, Wolf?” “What do you want.” “Isn’t that my notebook?” “Yes it is.” “So why do you have it?” “....Inspiration.”

yup now he has that notebook with him on the piano and only let’s you get it back if you want to doddle in it some more

Theo

you where cooking in the kitchen, whipping up some pancakes for the brothers

Theo came in to complain that there wasn’t enough syrup on his pancake and you flashed him a death glare and told him to get some from the cupboard

as he grumbles to himself h notices your sketchbook on the counter

and he proceeds to open it and go through it

he sees a bunch of pretty decent drawings of him and he’s surprised

he’ll act all tough but he’s really happy

“ Oi, Hondjie! What is this?” he shows you your most recent sketch. The one where he’s walking King with a faint smile on his lips.

you instantly go bright red

“ Put that down! You where not supposed to see that! There not good just put it down”

he’ll sigh and pull you into a hug

“ I like it”

Vincent

smol bean

you left it in his room and he just wanted to take a peek

and he opened it up and saw a punch of sketches of him

they even had notes like “uhh stop moving you hand” or “how can someone be this pure”

he’s moved

will go and find you and apologize for looking in your notebook and will tell you how cute your drawings are

all in all he’s a sweet little angel but like who expected anything else

Dazai

funny how he can’t remember your name but can remember exactly were you hide the sketchbook when you can’t take it with you

yup this guy just went and took it

he has no shame

he flicked trough it and smiled to himself

the drawings where adorable and funny and he loved it

you strait up walk in on him with the sketchbook and he just smiled at you

you turn pink trying to explain why you drew them

buuuut he just twirls you around and pules you into his lap smiling and you go over the drawing together recalling happy memories

Sebastian

did somebody say Sebastian appreciation hours

You can’t really hide anything from Sebas can you

you went out to get groceries and he was cleaning up around the mansion

you had left your notebook tucked behind one of the library shelves and as he was dusting he found it

he opened it not knowing it was your notebook

he realized soon enough though

he just starred at the pages full of drawings of him

you waked in and he just calmly put the notebook down

he asks why you drew him and you turn pink

as you try to formulate a coherent response he sighs and makes his way to you

he gently flicks your forehead and smiles

“I never said I didn’t like them”

Will

ok so lets talk about our dear yandere boy Will

you hang out a lot at his villa

usually you are accompanied by Vincent

but today he remembered he had a painting to finish and left

you offered to walk him to the gate and he gladly accepted

however you forgot your sketchbook on the dining table

William instantly noticed this and couldn’t help but take a peek

he’s shooketh

the drawing are so cute he really likes them

you come in and he smiles at you

your kind of embarrassed because 1 you didn’t want him to see that and 2 he asked you if you could draw in front of him

“ The way thou hand moves across this paper mesmerizes me”

you turn bright red but your happy he likes it

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uwuowotf2waslife · 3 years

Text

Im working on the petnames post but....(@ens-hellhole your post about sniper made my brain juice make this, thanks)

Soooo self-comfort through the roof i guess

Hold me , I'm fragile

After some time in the base, you could say with confidence that you know the basic rythms around you. Monday through Friday you fought 9-5 and on weekends you did your training ( Soldier basically yelling at you while doing push-ups and wall-sits) and the chores you were given by week. This week suprise suprise your chore was laundry... basically you took a basin for each mercs clothes and lefted it out of their room with the hope they eventually return it on the laundry room, ( they never did, but Pyro were kind enough to gather them all and stuck them on the laundry basket place).

After giving Pyro their laundry basin, you were left with Snipers, and then hoooray you were free to chill and have some peace and quiet. So you puted on your winter coat and your boots and you went out to Snipers Camper ( sneep did have a room but gave it to you so you wouldnt have to be roomates with Spy since his room was bigger or sleep in a pullout couch in the common area).

You and sniper have a...not established but close to established relationship, to be sorta understood. You did care about Sniper, but he...he was wayy too shy to do anything more than you yourself made clear you wanted, but one thing was clear as day...this poor, poor bean was so damn touchstarved. The first time you hugged him you swear you felt him crying...

You reach the camper and knock on the door...You hear a shuffle and just wait while freezing lowkey to death. Sniper opens the door, and in all honesty youd piss yourself laughing werent you frozen. This poor bean was wrapped up in every piece of cloth he had, including a homemade knitted blanket, he was like a tall ragdoll patchwork.

He pulled you inside, because he said you let all the heat out, but you could see he was lying. Sniper fidgets when he lies, he is a horrible liear even for the most basic of lies. So you leave the laundry on the coffee table and before you know it, hes huddled in his bed like a cat. You sigh and walk off and sit on the outer side of the bed but close to him...you tsk because hes wearing his boots on his bed. When you point it out he says that hes too damn cold, his knees hurt, his back hurts...old piss man excuses.

So you pull his boots off, suprisingly you dont die from asphyxiation, and you rub his feet to warm them up ( his feet are cold as snow). You can see him blushing but you ignore it and continue this weird affection-giving love thing you yourself dont even know why you are doing it. You reach his calves and his knees, and because hes ticklish he accidentally kicks you in the face....after lots of apologies and laughs, he pulls you and sits you by him. He open ups his bundle of blankets and wraps you in. Hes redder than ever but in all honesty its so cute. He gives you a smol mooch on your cheek and leans on you. Very gently you take both your hands and hold his face, and giving him a small precious smooch the mouth. You pull back and you cant believe your eyes... his eyes are pooling with tears and his breathing has heaved. To test your theory if sniper is so touchstarved as you theorise you go for the kill: you pepper his face with smooches while calling him sweet petnames and compliments.

Warning Bushman.exe has crashed. He shuts his eyes and hugs you tightly with his face on your shoulder... Tentatively you stroke his hair and give his neck some light kisses and hes positevely crying right now...He raises his head and with the most honest eyes you have ever seen he whispers i love you and gives you the sweetest kiss he has ever given.

Congratulations you have been upgraded to pissmanwaifu

#tf2 fandom #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons #tf2 sniper #fluff

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presentmicsongbird · 4 years

Note

Can I request Yandere Mirio? I love my sunshine boy being a yandere. You can make a prompt or a headcanon. I enjoy your Jealous Bakugou X Reader. Maybe do one about Yandere Mirio being a jealous bean?

But of course! Ask and you shall receive, here’s your order of one jealous yandere Mirio. Enjoy! ------------------------------------------

Yandere Mirio x reader “I love you, but you’re mine, Darling.”

The first time he saw you, you were a timid little first year, trying to find your way to your next class. You’ve already tried asking around, but almost everyone you met either told you to buzz off or gave you the wrong directions. Much to your dismay.

But not Mirio though, like the big ray of sunshine he is, he decided to come up to you first and give you proper help. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

No, you were both terrified and intimidated by this huge third year walking towards your direction. If it weren’t for the tidbits of scars on his forearm and biceps, then it was probably his 5’11 frame completely towering over you that did the job. His bright and silly smile, however, did ease your worries a bit.

“Hey there! I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you’re a first year, right? You seem to be a little lost, where you off to?” He asked with a subtle head tilt.

C-Cute….

“I…um…” You stumbled on your words, your timidness beginning to take a hold of you. A mumble of words slipped out from your lips, but was barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Well c’mon now, no need to be shy!” He crouched down to your height and turned his head to the side, cupping his ear. “Let’s hear that again, yeah? I can’t really help you out if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Too close, too close!

“I…” You gulped and took a deep breath. “I need help finding my homeroom.” You opened your eyes slowly, not realizing they were closed in the first place, as you heard a quiet chuckle.

“There we go, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He stood back to his original height and smiled at you once more. You nodded at his question, the ground suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “Now about your homeroom, what course are you in? I’m in the hero course!”

Ah…that explains a lot then.

“General Studies.” You whispered a little louder. You had tried out for the hero course once…but you had slipped up at the last second causing you to lose those last few points. How you managed to get into general studies, you’ll never know, but you certainly weren’t complaining. And you certainly didn’t want to be late on your just your third day of school.

“Class 1-C then, huh? No problem, I’ll get you there in no time, Let’s go!” Mirio gently held your hand, almost as if you were made of porcelain, and began leading you towards your classroom. You struggled to keep up with him, but was rather thankful for the fast pace. Perhaps you won’t be late after all.

His hand is warm… You thought to yourself, a faint warmth filling your cheeks. You were careful to remember the halls you both took and which corner to turn, a mental map forming in your mind.

As soon as you reached your classroom, he Mirio let go of your hand, and turned back to face you, his smile unwavering.

“Here we are! Class 1-C! Sorry if we went a little too fast, you probably couldn’t have remembered all those twists and turns. I’ll gladly escort you again if you need me to, but if you don’t then it-“ You cut of his ranting, chuckling inwardly at his worries.

“I-It’s fine, sempai really. I actually didn’t have a hard time at all. ” You gave a curt bow. “Thank you so much, but I’m sure I’ve taken up a lot of your time already.”

“It’s no problem, I’m happy to help. That is what heroes do after all.” He gave you another bright smile and a big thumbs up. Before you could open the door he called out to you once more.

“Wait, before I go, I didn’t catch your name.” You stayed quiet for a bit, wondering if you should tell him. You just met after all…then again he did help you. What’s the worse that could happen?

“Y/N.” You whispered. “It’s Y/N.” You threw one last glance at the blonde, you didn’t realize his blue eyes could get that bright.

“Y/N, that’s a beautiful name. I’m Mirio Togata. Hope I can see you again, soon!” And with that, he ran off to who knows where. Thanking whatever celestial being that he didn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

You had to admit, he really was cute, maybe you two could- no. A newbie general studies kid like you could never have a chance with a third year. And you were fine with that…Unfortunately for you…

Mirio had other plans.

He knew, the moment he saw you, you had to be HIS. You were so small, so shy, your entire being was practically asking for a villain to come and take you away.

No, he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was going to protect you, from anything and anyone who even dares to look at you the wrong way. You were HIS sunshine, HIS darling, and he’ll be damned if he even lets one of those low-lives in your class taint HIS precious light.

He had a plan, he was going to get you to like him, he’ll go slow of course, but he’ll make sure your eyes were only on him.

He found a way to fit into your schedule, all your activities, your study time, your breaks, even that little part time job you work at after school. And oh the joy he felt in his heart when he saw how ecstatic you were when he confessed that he wanted to be your “friend” and help you out.

You didn’t suspect a single thing. He had an alibi for everything, a ready excuse for why you two always manage to see each other.

You see him at the coffee shop in the morning? He always went there before going to class.

That book store you visited to get a text book for class? Him and Amajiki were supposed to meet up but he canceled last minute.

Oh, you’re studying by yourself in the library? Him too! Here, let him help, he studied the same thing last year.

Before you knew it, the two of you were practically inseparable. You were still a timid little thing when around your classmates and teachers, but with Mirio, you could put your walls down and be yourself with no problem!

Of course you were more comfortable around him. Mirio’s act was flawless and consistent, no one would even think he had an ulterior motive to being friends with you.

He did try to keep his distance a few times as to not overwhelm you, but the way you look at him, that smile and that sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw him was too much, how could he NOT come over and be close to you?

At this point, almost everyone in your grade, especially your class, knew you as Mirio’s sunshine (With rumors going around that you two were dating). You had gained some new friends and you had learned to open up more. Your timid nature slowly went away as you welcomed more people in your life.

You even met a boy, a second year in the support course. He gave you a bracelet made out of a rare metal from one of the workshops to celebrate passing your test. It was a sweet gesture.

But for Mirio, it was a sign of war. Who was this kid? Why was he talking to you? Does he know you’re already taken?

Questions and worst case scenarios filled his thoughts to the brim and your new found confidence was not helping at all. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

He found you on the roof doing your homework, that gorgeous smile, almost distracting him from his goal.

“Y/n!” He called out. You turned around quickly at the sound of his voice, your smile brightening at sight of your friend.

“Togata sempai! What’s up?” You patted the empty space next to you. “I was just finishing up here, maybe we can go to that cafe-“

“Who is he?” He asked, keeping up a gentle smile. He needed to get straight to the point.

“Uh…Who?” Mirio kept a growl from coming out. He grabbed your arm a little too roughly and pulled it up for both of you to see. So much for his facade.

“That…boy. The one you were talking to yesterday. The one who gave you this.” You gulped. You’ve never seen this side of Mirio and you have no idea what to do.

“I-Its…He’s just my friend. He gave it to m-me as a present. You know….when I passed my test?”

“A present…really? What, was the cake I got for you not enough? Did you want a bracelet instead? Is that why you took it?” His grip was getting tighter by the second. That’ll probably leave a bruise. “I knew I should’ve gotten you something else…”

“Toga-“

“Listen, I’m glad you’re making more friends, it’s good that you’re opening up more. But I don’t want you talking to that boy anymore. I don’t like him, don’t accept any more gifts.” Your arm was starting to hurt now as he pulled you closer to him. “I’ll give you anything you want, ANYTHING. I’ll give you more gifts, I’ll spend more time with you just-“

“Togata sempai-“ He cut you off again, your wincing going unnoticed by his continuous rambling. What was going on? Why was he acting like this?

“I love you, but you’re mine, darling.” What. You stopped struggling from his vice-like grip. Mirio continued to rant about what he should’ve given you and why you should stop seeing the boy.

“MIRIO!” You screamed, catching him off guard and letting go of your arm. You cradled your limb to your chest, silence washing over both of you.

“Dar-Y/n, I’m…I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“We’re just friends, sempai. That’s it. Nothing more.” You whispered, the concrete suddenly the most interesting thing.

“Y/n…I’m so sorry. Please, sunshine?” You gulped and backed away from his raising hand. You then remembered what he said earlier. But you were so confused.

“Did you mean it?” You asked. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Wha-O-Of course! I’ve loved you since I first helped you on the first day and everyday after that.” You sighed and looked away. You really didn’t know how to feel.

“Darling?” He slowly crept closer to you, watching your reaction. “Y/n, please, talk to me. I’m sorry.” You mumbled something incoherent, causing him to lean in closer to you.

“At least take me on a date first, you dummy.” You looked up at him with a smile, his eyes blinking a few times before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around.

“Haha, oh sunshine you scared me! I expected you to be angrier, furious even! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. And you’re right…” Mirio set you back down, making sure you were steady before letting go. “This weekend, I’ll take you on the most amazing date you’ve ever had!” He spread out his arms and waved them. “The ultimate Togata experience.”

You giggled, the small action making the blonde’s heart melt even more.

“It’s a date then.”

“It’s a date.” The bell rang a second later, signaling the end of the period. “Let’s go to that cafe after school, we’ll set up the details later, okay darling?” You nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, his smile getting wider.

“Listen sunshine, I got do something real quick, you go on ahead.” Thinking it was probably something in the hero course, you thought nothing of it and walked down the stair with your books in hand, unbeknownst to you about his change in demeanor.

He wasn’t wrong, Mirio really wasn’t thinking straight…New gifts and a date weren’t enough to guarantee that you were off limits…no…

He needed to take out the competition, permanently.

The boy in the support course suddenly transferred out of UA the next day.

#yanderemirio #yanderebnha #mirio x reader #jealous

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

Text

hurry back, pretty boy (spencer reid/reader)

Title: Hurry Back, Pretty Boy Request: yes! Couple: Punk-y!Spencer Reid/Punk-y!Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of marijuana, mentions of a case, mentions of vomit Word Count: 2,867 Summary: Reader owns a bar and a little bit punk. She and Spencer are in a relationship. Reader learns about the BAU teams out-side of work personalities A/N: got this sweet request the other day. I took some creative liberties but followed the request closely. I did make spencer one hundred percent out of character, but he still acts like our precious innocent bean :) thanks for the love! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Everyone has a different personality inside and outside of work. Like, me for instance. I work at a bar, the one I own. Inside work, I have to be flirtatious and funny. I have to sell, sell, sell. Because if I don’t I don’t have a house. I have an entire act I have. I’m the flirty, punky, bitch that all the fat bastards love. However, outside of work, I’m still the flirty, punky, bitch… I’m just more to myself and not as… Out there.

Same story with my amazing and loving boyfriend, one Doctor Spencer Reid. He works as a profiler for the FBI’s Behaviour Analysis Unit, aka BAU. While Spencer was at work, he was the sweet, innocent boy who doesn’t know sex or how to flirt. He was their sweet, shy, innocent Pretty Boy… Inside work. However, outside work, when he was here at the bar with me or anywhere else… He’s pretty much like me. Though, he’s not a bitch, or bastard. He’s much kinder than that. Although, he’s still a little bit of a sweetheart. I guess that’s why I love him. He was still clever and smart, there was no getting rid of that. Personally, I just think that makes him so much more lovable.

As for his colleagues, they were all different. I remember meeting them all for the first time. They all seemed high strung, professional people that didn’t seem to hang out with someone like Spencer or me. Boy, was I dead wrong.

I met Spencer 5 years back. It was late one evening and he had just gotten off work, coming to my bar for a drink. He looked exhausted, like always. But this exhaustion was a different kind. Like he was stretched thin from whatever the case was he was working on. It was before I knew his true personality and self. I was thankful that he let his true colors shine, not to quote Cyndi Lauper or anything.

I think he was more nervous talking to me at first. I mean, it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl who has her arms tattooed with sleeves, colored hair, and several facial piercings. At first, I thought I was not his type. But then he asked me out and here we are, 2.5 years later.

“Hey guys,” I smiled as the team entered the bar. It looked like they all needed a drink of some sort. I smiled brightly as Spencer entered the bar behind his friends. When his eyes landed on me, his face lit up with excitement. He impatiently pushed past the team and came to me, basically jumping over the bar. I smiled as I pulled on his tie, bringing him down to my height. I was shorter than him by nearly a foot, and I loved it

“Hey there Pretty Boy,” I smiled, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek, keeping my grip around his tie, before kissing him deeply. He hummed, snaking his arms around my waist to hold me closer. I laughed against his lips as Penelope and Morgan began to protest our affection. I pulled my hand from Spencer’s face to flip them off.

“My shift is done in 15 minutes. I have extra clothes for you in my car. I’ll get you guys some drinks and join you if you’d like, once you’re changed?” I asked bringing my hands to rest on Spencer’s chest. I smoothed out the few wrinkles on his blazer and smiled. He hummed and nodded. I pulled my car keys from the pocket on my apron and placed then in Spencer’s hand. “Hurry back, Pretty Boy,” I went on my toes to peck his lips.

Spencer looked over my shoulder and at his friends, his cheeks blushing slightly. I gently patted his shoulders to get his attention back on me. He sighed deeply before looking down at me, smiling softly before holding up the keys. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, tossing the keys in the air and catching them. I chuckled and watched as he turned to leave. I kept my eyes on him as he left. Boy, I love when he wears suits, or a blazer and slacks. He looks so… professional. I would risk anything for this man… everything about this man… I love.

“What can I get you guys?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Spencer as he left. Even when he was no longer in my sight, I kept my eyes towards his direction.

“Babygirl,” Derek, one of Spencer’s best friends, snapped in my direction and pulling my attention away from the back door and towards the group of agents. I smiled and looked at them.

“Drinks! Whaddya want?” I exhaled deeply as I placed my hands on the counter. Penelope, who I love dearly, was the first to the counter, nearly falling over herself as she pushed the others to the side. I cringed as her abdomen hit the wooden countertop, though she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“I want whatever is fruity and whatever can get me drunk,” she looked at me, throwing her purse on the counter as she leaned towards me. I laughed and nodded as I got to work on her drink.

“I take it it wasn’t a very good day?” I looked over my shoulder at Penelope, who was now sitting. Emily and Derek had joined her at the bar. The look of exhaustion on their faces told me that it probably wasn’t a good day.

“You could say that,” Emily looked up at me. Her eyes looked tired, and I’m sure she wanted to drown her sorrows in liquor and tequila. She probably wasn’t able to drink, mostly because she could still possibly be on duty. I know what she and Aaron have been doing lately, taking down some people for drugs. I’m not risking my weed because of that.

“Well, Agent Prentiss,” I looked at her with a smile as I handed Penelope her drink. “What can I get you tonight?” I grinned as I grabbed a tiny cocktail umbrella, opening it, and sticking it in Penelope’s drink. She giggled as she followed the others towards an empty corner booth. I looked towards the direction of the others and smiled.

“Anything, please, just give me anything,” she pleaded, dropping her hands onto the countertop. I smiled and nodded before making her something strong, but not strong enough to knock her out for the night.

“Do I even want to know what this case was about?” I spoke out loud, pouring some vodka into the glass. Emily groaned before placing her head on the counter. Derek laughed and shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no,” I laughed, turning to place Emily’s drink on the counter. I looked at Derek and smiled.

“I’ll just have a beer,” he shook his head. I pouted. Drunk Derek is my favorite and will always be my favorite. I nodded, grabbing a stein and filling it with the best stuff on tap. “Go over there and save me and our Pretty Boy a seat,” I flashed Derek a smile as I placed the stein on the counter.

“Yeah, I’ll save you and Pretty Boy a seat,” he teased as he stood up, grabbing his beer and leaving. I smiled and looked over at the group of agents.

“Did you have a good day?” Spencer’s voice sounded like music to my ears as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I hummed as he peppered my neck in kisses. I dropped my head to my shoulder and smiled as he continued to kiss my neck.

“Probably a better day than you and the others,” I mused, keeping my eyes on the team. They were laughing and fooling around with themselves, even though they all looked exhausted. Spencer chuckled, his breath fanning over the side of my neck, making me exhale deeply.

“My day was okay,” he laughed, his grip around my waist tightened a bit. I laughed and shook my head, resting my hands on top of his. “I had the day off, unlike Derek, Emily, Penelope, and Hotch,” he added before pressing a kiss to my jaw.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” I laughed as I turned around to face him. He wrinkled his nose before placed a kiss on my lips. I laughed as his stupid tongue piercing hit my lips. “I always fucking forget that you have that,” I pulled my head away from him and spoke. Spencer laughed before sticking his tongue out at me. A silver ball/tongue stud sat on the center of the tip of his tongue.

“I quite like it,” he pressed it to his lips before smiling at me. I laughed and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me before pressing his lips to mine again.

“How about, you go join your team? I’ll make you a drink and meet you over there?” I batted my eyelashes at him. He laughed, his laugh making me feel giggly inside, before kissing me for the third time.

“If I must,” he pouted before releasing me from his grip. He smiled at me before going to join his friends. I leaned on the counter, folding my arms over each other as I stared at Spencer’s ass. Damn, he looked good in jeans. I don’t know why he didn’t wear them more often. And, the way his plain black tee-shirt hung off his shoulders… I could do unspeakable things with it. Or, maybe he could… The few tattoos he had on his arms made me smile. God, I love this side of Pretty Boy, Doctor Spencer Reid.

I sighed deeply, shaking my head clean from the dirty thoughts I was having of my boyfriend. I was quick making a neat whiskey for Spencer, and myself a boozy drink. I grabbed a few glasses and a bottle of wine, for JJ, Aaron, and David, placing everything on a tray, before finally going to join everyone at the booth.

“And here is everything,” I placed the tray on the counter before sitting on the bench beside Spencer. He smiled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I looked at him and placed his drink in front of him. “Wine for the mother and fathers,” I looked at JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. JJ looked eternally grateful that I brought over a bottle of wine. I wouldn’t be surprised if she would drink all of it in one shot. I’ve attended girl’s night before with JJ, Emily, and Penelope. They like to start off early, leaving me to be the designated driver before I had on sip of alcohol.

“You… Are the best,” she whispered as she grabbed for the bottle and a glass for herself. I fished for the swiss-army knife buried in my pocket and handed it over to her. She smiled as she pulled it from me and opening it to the corkscrew to open the bottle.

“I’m really guessing today wasn’t good,” I widened my eyes as I watched her pour the wine till her glass was totally full. Spencer looked over at me and shook his head.

“Best not get into it, Princess,” he whispered. I cringed before sipping my drink, shivering as the alcohol hit my tongue. The conversations went on, as usual. Talking about whatever it was they wanted to talk about. And, sure enough, Spencer always had something to say.

{***}{***}{***}

“Anyone want some weed?” A regular of the bar asked somewhere across the bar. I anxiously sipped my drink as Aaron and Emily shared a look, silently telling each other that they’d have to bust my bar. I wrinkled my nose and shifted in my seat, not liking that I’d probably lose my job and dealer over that. I’ll have to talk to him about that later when there aren’t 6 FBI agents in my presence and in my bar.

Spencer, who was a little bit drunk at this point in the night, leaned over and wrapped his arms around my body. I let out a strained laugh as he leaned his full weight on me. He pressed his lips sloppily to the side of my head.

“I luh you s’much,” he whispered, poking my nose. I grinned and looked over at him. I raised my eyebrows, my smile becoming smugger. He huffed out a breath of air as he let his body become one with mine. I inhaled the faint smell of whiskey and even fainter smell of marijuana in his breath. God, if only Hotch and Emily knew that their innocent, smart agent partook in marijuana. To be honest, he mostly does it for stress and anxiety. And, it’s done him a great deal of good. “Did you know that? That I love you?” he asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“I think… I think it’s time we go home, Spence,” I planted my hand on his shoulder to steady him. He made a sound in protest. I widened my eyes as I looked around the table. “You only had two drinks. How are you this drunk?” I asked, looking at the two empty glasses sitting on the table in front of him. He swallowed roughly, opening his mouth to spit out some sort of incredible fact out. Only to fail when he hiccuped instead. I laughed and nodded. “That’s what I thought,” I whispered.

“You guys can’t be serious. You can’t leave!” Penelope looked at Spencer and I. I pouted as I slid out of the booth, Spencer falling over where I was once sitting. I laughed and shook my head. “Spencer’s fine! He’s not as much of a lightweight as you think!” She added in an exclamation. She did the exact thing when David and Aaron left nearly two hours ago. But, at this point, it’s later than that… And, I’m incredibly exhausted. Spencer’s the lightest lightweight I know.

“Penelope,” I laughed and shook my head, “I know, for a fact, he’s had a busy day. Reading his little heart away. I haven’t seen him all day,” I gestured to the bar behind me. “I’ve been here all day. Please,” I looked at her and pouted. I wrinkled my nose slightly as my lip piercing hit my chin. Penelope looked at me, about ready to protest, but stopped when Derek placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s about time we go too,” he spoke to her. I looked at him and flashed him a smile, thanking him for stopping her. Derek winked at me before turning back to his drunken friend. I looked down at the Pretty Boy.

“C’mon, Spence,” I whispered, leaning over to help him up. Spencer looked at me as he threw his hand over my shoulders again. The way he looked at me made me want to melt slightly. “I’ll see you guys another day!” I struggled to wave at the other members of the team. They all bid their farewells to Spencer and I before we finally left.

“Are we going home?” Spencer asked, keeping his weight on my body. I groaned, straining as he threw his other arm over me.

“Yeah, baby, we’re going home,” I struggled to open the passenger side door. Spencer looked at me as I buckled him in, and smiled brightly. “Yes?” I smiled at him.

“I just love you so much,” he whispered, bringing a hand to rest on my cheek. I sighed deeply before kissing him. I pulled away and looked down at him. His eyes were watering slightly, making me chuckle lightly. I lifted my hand and placed it on his cheek. He hummed and leaned into my touch.

“Baby, I know,” I chuckled and smiled at him. Something flashed across his, his eyes widening as his cheeks puffed out. Fuck. He better not. “Oh no, I know that look,” I shook my head, pulling him so he’d throw up outside of my clean car instead of inside. He looked up at me, his eyes telling me that he was sorry before he threw up on the ground outside… Right, where my feet were. I groaned and held back my anger, not wanting to get mad at the mildly drunk Spencer.

“I’m so sorry,” his face twisted as he realized he had just done. I wiped my face with both my hands and looked down at him. He was still looking at me, an apologetic look on his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t worry about,” I whispered, looking down at him. He nodded and wiped his upper lip. I flashed him one last smile before pushing the door shut. I looked down at the pile of sick on the ground and looked at my feet. I sighed as I kicked my shoes off and picked them up.

“Give him grace, he doesn’t drink,” I whispered, looking at the ruined shoes. I opened the back door and placed the shoes on the seat before going around to the driver’s side. Spencer, surprisingly, was already asleep. I pouted. I loved drunk Spencer and his endless blabber of compliments.

“Oh, Pretty Boy, you’re so sweet,” I smiled as I started the car and speeding away.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

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0gasstationcoffee · 2 years

Text

LWA rewatch episode 19

· OH NO IT STARTS OFF IMMEDIATELY WITH A FLASHBACK TO YOUNG DIANA AND HER MOM

· Look at this lil precious bean, protect her

· Beatrix: the first witch of the Cavendish family

· One of the Nine Old Witches

· Oh that’s the tapestry that appears later in the episode

· “An old tradition and a new power will cross to open a door to the unseen world”

· Does this flashback take place before or after the infamous Shiny Chariot show?

· So her mother’s words is what makes Diana’s decision for her

· Damn Akko go eat something, your stomach does not sound happy

· Akko is a good person with a good heart, after everything H&B have done to her she STILL goes to check on them when they’re crying

· Diana’s dropping out of Luna Nova

· Is she just allowed to do that on her own? Or I guess she’s of age to make that choice

· “The ceremony to elect the head of the family only happens every few years”

· Magic is weird yall

· “She’s leaving tonight at midnight” DIANA THAT’S A TOUCH DRAMATIC

· Awwww Akko running up to Ursula to tell her the news

· Ursula is such a mom with how gently she’s talking to Akko about this whole Diana situation

· I love how hellbent Akko is on getting Diana to stay. She knows how much Diana loves magic too

· Lotte just petting that adorable fairy is too cute

· Omg Lotte pulled away her hand and the fairy just wiggled their arms at her and she continued petting

· Lotte and Sucy waiting for Akko and she just bolts past their room lmao

· LMAO SHE RAN PAST THEM AGAIN

· Wait so Diana is leaving now??? I didn’t realize that the episode started off at basically 11 pm.

· So Akko was heading to the cafeteria for food at 11 PM and ran into H&B, Ursula was walking around Luna Nova (yet another reason I HC her as having trouble sleeping, and Lotte and Sucy were waiting up for Akko

· Aw poor Diana : ( she looks so sad

· I know I don’t talk about Diana too much in these reviews, it’s not on purpose but I am mainly focusing on Akko and Chariot because the whole purpose for this rewatch is to finally write my story where Akko and Chariot’s relationship is the focus

· “Those who leave Luna Nova are to do so undetected.” FOR WHAT FUCKING PURPOSE LUNA NOVA SERIOUSLY WHATS THE POINT OF THAT HOW STUPID

· Oof Akko mentioning Diana’s parents should be the one to hold down the fort until Diana graduates. She really doesn’t know

· I guess that makes sense, she and Diana aren’t really friends at this point so it’s not like Akko would know her history.

· Akko: I don’t care about tradition! Damn right girl screw tradition

· “I have never for a moment thought of you as my rival.” I don’t know why but Diana’s delivery of that is so funny

· Akko obviously wanted to go to Luna Nova because that’s where Chariot went. I know Luna Nova was Diana’s family school anyhow but she still must have loved that Chariot went there too

· Oh literally it was Akko’s next line

· “I wanted more than anything to go to the same school that Chariot went to. But now it’s much more than that. The things I’ve experienced here, the people I’ve met, they’ve all become so important to me. I love them all, just as much as I love Chariot.”

· This line with all of Akko’s memories in the background omg how sweet

· Akko you sweetheart

· And also wow look at how much she’s grown!!!!!!!

· Akko went to Luna Nova for Chariot but she’s staying there for herself

· Diana: why don’t you go back to looking for the seven words? Akko: Kill Bill sirens

· Akko just wants to make people happy with magic, Diana wants to bring back honor to the world of magic

· Literally just Chariot and Croix 10-12 years later

· Diana just called it the Shiny Rod, not it’s real name

· Is that the Shiny Chariot fangirl in her?

· Aw she really is gonna miss Luna Nova

· Sucy and Lotte just peeking out from the tower after watching their conversation lmao

· Awwww Ursula watching her fly away from her tower

· AKKO JUST SHOWING UP AT ANY HOUR SHE WANTS BECAUSE SHE KNOWS SHE CAN IS TOO CUTE

· URSULA DOESN’T EVEN QUESTION IT

· That’s such a mom thing. Ursula just looks at Akko’s big watery eyes and gives her what she wants

· Ursula didn’t even fight it she just told Akko where to find Diana

· The red team continues to be the best team

· They are so supportive of Akko, even Sucy!

· Sucy: be careful. WOW

· Ooh the Cavendish’s have their own Sorcerer’s Stone

· If that’s the case then why didn’t Diana just fly there??? Why was that creepy boat ride necessary

· Anna talking about Luna Nova: “I know it had been your dream to-“ She gets cut off but was she going to mention the same thing about Shiny Chariot?

· The fucking snakes man

· I know snakes were/are associated with medicine but still wtf

· Goddamn the Cavendish manor looks bad

· Aunt Daryl, here’s this bitch

· I still think of that video where someone put all the LWA characters on different vines and Diana and Daryl got the “What the hell are you doing” “I’m doing my eyebrows” “That’s a big ass mirror” “I have big ass eyebrows”

· That one makes me laugh so hard

· BUT

· THAT ONE IS RIGHT BEFORE MY ABSOLUTELY FAVORITE LWA VINE WITH CHARIOT AND AKKO RECREATING THE ICONIC B99 SCENE WITH CHARIOT GOING “I’VE ONLY HAVE AKKO FOR A DAY AND A HALF BUT IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO HER I WOULD KILL EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM AND THEN MYSELF” AND THEN HOLBROOK OR SOMEONE IN THE BACK “THAT’S A VERY VIOLENT EULOGY I LIKE IT”

· Three guesses why that’s my favorite vine

· Back to our regularly scheduled programming

· This is a weird aunt/niece relationship lmao

· Did Daryl’s eyes just really glow red and she faded away? Is that normal? Diana’s lack of reaction makes it seem normal

· Oh no poor Akko, trying to walk to the Cavendish manor

· “I’m really hungry” Oh shit did Akko not get any food from the night before??

· TIME TO HITCHHIKE

· SHE HAD THE SIGN READY TO GO LMAO

· Oh shit it’s Andrew

· I forgot he was in this episode, next one too

· Why does Akko look so much smaller when she’s the same age as Diana and Andrew

· Andrew just trying to shut his dad up when he keeps talking about Akko

· Oh right Andrew and Diana are relatives, is that why they’re so damn similar

· Not even 12 hours later and Diana is riding horses with her dogs lol

· I like that Akko always introduces herself by her full name

· Diana about Akko and Andrew: And why are the two of you together in the first place?

· Andrew’s such a little shit, just grinning

· Lmao Andrew waves and says “see ya” when being taken to his room, I don’t know why that made me laugh

· Okay so all traditional witches are assholes basically

· Hell yeah Diana! Stepping in to defend Akko from her awful relatives

· How was Diana’s mom so nice but her aunt so awful

· Lmao poor Akko, fitting into Diana’s dress from 5 years ago

· It does make her look like a little kid

· Aw of course Diana still has her childhood bear

· Akko pointing out the bear and Diana freaking out thinking she’s looking at the box with her Chariot card in it

· OH WE ACTUALLY SEE THE CARD, I DIDN’T REMEMBER THAT

· I mean obviously we saw just a brief shot of young Diana at the Shiny Chariot show but is this the first time since then that shows Diana is a fan?

· Lmao Anna just lamenting having to take care of Akko and Akko deadpans “I get it you don’t want to do this.”

· If kindness is supposed to be a staple of the Cavendish family then what the fuck is wrong with Daryl and her two spawns

· Ah Akko finding out that Diana lost both her parents when she was young and feeling bad about what she said before

· LMAO Anna backing Akko into a corner and yelling is giving me flashbacks of Finneran doing that to Chariot in the beginning of the series. Akko even has the same hand gestures as Chariot

· Well at least Akko can finally eat something

· Oof this is awkward

· Oh she’s trying to sell the tapestry, Diana’s gonna snap

· Akko finding out Diana’s a descendent from one of the nine old witches lol

· Oh god Akko is in the middle of this fight

· AND the ceremony is tonight, damn

#lwa #lwa rewatch #little witch academia

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blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #717: Having Confidence (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

2:12 p.m. at Smash Beach......

Daisy: (Standing Beside the Changing Tent Waiting For Luigi to Come Out) You're doing okay in there, sweetie?

Luigi: (In the Tent) Y-Yeah! I-I'm good.

Daisy: You sure? You've been in there for quite a while now. (Starts Getting Worried) You're not getting sick, are you?

Luigi: (Shyly Pop His Head Out of the Tent) I'm not sick, Daisy. I'm just.....a-a tad bit worried about something is all. (Quickly Chuckles a Bit Awkwardly) B-But I'm sure I'll get over it eventually!

Daisy: (Gently Place her Hand on Top of Luigi's) Weegie, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? What's wrong?

Luigi: (Takes a Deep Breath) Well.....if you really wanna know, I'm.....kinda scared of going out there..... Mostly because my body isn't really that great compare to you guys and everyone else here on the beach......

Daisy: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) Seriously!? T-That's crazy talk! (Grabs Hold of Luigi's Hand) I've seen you shirtless and naked more times than I can count. Your body is beautiful!

Luigi: (Smiles a Little While Blushing) Thank you~ But if I'm being completely honest here, yours is a lot more amazing than mines could ever be. And before you ask, I promise you that no is insulting me, my body image, or anything in particular.

Daisy: I sure hope not. Cause I would be more than happy to kick anyone's ass in this beach if they do!

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) I know you would, dear~ But really. I thought about all of this on my own. So you don't have nothing to worry about. I'm sorry if I'm ruining the beach fun for you guys.....

Daisy: (Gently Squeezes Luigi's Hand) Sweetie, you are not ruining anything for us. I just want you to have a good time as much as rest of us here. I think I know have a plan to get you out of this funk.

Luigi: (Eyes Widened) Wait really?

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Totally! I mean, it might not be the greatest plan in the world, but if it means helping you gain more confidence, than I more than willing to give it try! (Place her Hands on Both of Luigi's Cheeks) Wait for me, okay?~ (Kiss the Top of her Man's Nose) ('Mmwaaah') (Quickly Make her Way to the Rest of the Gang) BRB!~

Luigi: (Blushes Some and Smiles Softly More While Watching his Girlfriend Run) I love that woman~

Hades: (Smirks at Luigi Beside Him) Ah yes. She definitely pegs you, doesn't she?

Luigi: AH-

Meanwhile.......

Dedede: (Making a Small Sand Castle) Y'all ever thought about surfing before?

Cloud: (Resting his Head onto Tifa's Lap While She Gently Rubs his Hair) Not really. No.

Tifa: (Gives Dedede a Bit of a Sheepish Smile) Can't say that I have, your majesty.

Samus: (Smirks at Dedede While Relaxing on a Bench) Why? You wanna go out there and try it out for yourself, De?

Dedede: And have my ass slip and drown? ('Scoffs') As if!

?????: Guys! I need your help!

Dedede: (Turns to see Daisy) Daisy! Where you been, girl?

Samus: Yeah and where's our precious green bean?

Tifa: (Starts Getting Worried) Is he okay?

Daisy: Yeah. Well..... Kind of, sort of, not really? He's afriad of coming out of the changing tent at the moment.

Cloud: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion as He Gets Up From Tifa's Lap) Why? I don't see any paranormal activities around here.

Daisy: No. It's not the ghosts that scaring him this time around. It's because he thinks his body doesn't look great compare to ours.

Dedede: (Starts Getting Angry Along With Everyone Else) No one isn't telling him all of this, are they?

Daisy: ('Sigh') No. At least that's what Weegie told me. I dunno......I hope not.

Samus: (Already Starts Cracking her Knuckles) Same.....

Cloud: So what do you need our help for?

Daisy: Simple. I want you guys to give him a butt load of compliments once he comes out. That's way his confidence can boost up.

Tifa: (Smiles Softly) That's sounds like a great idea, Daisy.

Samus: (Smiles Softly) Yeah. If it means helping out our green bean out of there, I'm down with that.

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Sweet! (Confidently Points at the Tent) Let's hurry ourselves over there, people!

Meanwhile.........

Luigi: (Talks to Hades While Still Having his Head Pop Out of the Tent) So how exactly did you became the biggest troll in your universe?

Hades: Well, you see, I-

?????: Weeeeegie!~ I'm bacccck!~

Luigi: (Turns to See Daisy Coming Towards Him) Daisy!

Hades: (Waves at Luigi Before Disappearing) Hades out.

Daisy: Who were you talking to, sweetie?

Luigi: Hades. He was here, but he left for some reason..... Anyways, how's the plan going along?

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Smooth and perfect! But it does involve you coming out of the tent.

Luigi: (Frowns a Bit While Being Nervous) O-Oh..... really?

Daisy: (Gently Grabs Luigi's Hand While Giving Him a Soft, Reassuring Smile) Hey. It's gonna be okay, 'hon. I'll be here with you every step of the way. Promise.

Luigi: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness) You really are too good for-

Daisy: (Immediately Place her Finger on Luigi's Lips) Upupup! What did I tell you about saying all of that crap?

Luigi: It's not true and that I'm just as amazing?

Daisy: (Ruffles the Front Part of his Hair) Good boy. Now are you ready to do this?

Luigi (Takes a Deep Breath) Ready as I'll ever be......

And with that, Luigi slowly and steadily walks out of the changing tent. All while wearing a white t-shirt and a green swimming trunks. He was about to walk right next to Daisy when suddenly........

??????: Oooh-Wee! You're looking good already, boy!

Luigi: (Turns to See a Very Familiar Face) Your majesty?

Samus: (Gives Luigi a Supportive Smirk on her Face) Gotta agree with the King on this one, Weeg. The swimming trunks definitely matches your personality perfectly.

Tifa: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Yep. Don't know about you, but we think you're already a full package.

Daisy: (Giggles While Giving Luigi a Flirty Like Look on her Face) Damn right you do, babe~

Tifa: (Gently Smacks the Top of Daisy's Head) Down, girl.

Cloud: Everyone's right. You look great already.

Luigi: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprised) You guys..... Really mean all of that?

Daisy: (Smiles Softly While Grabbing Both of Luigi's Hands) Of course we do, sweetie. You're perfect just the way you are and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Samus: Cause we'll be more than happy to knock anyone out if they dear try.

Dedede: (Wholeheartedly Nodded in Agreement) Damn. Right!

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) I can't thank you all enough for this. And you're right, I shouldn't be scared of how my body looks. If you guys like it, then I should be more proud it! (Proudly Takes Off his T-shirt, Causing it to Fall Down to the Sand Ground)

Daisy: (Already Starts Whistling)

Tifa: (Happily Claps For Luigi's Sudden Revelation)

Dedede: (Laughs Wholeheartedly) Now that's the confidence boost we wanna see right here!

Samus: (Smiles Brightly While Giving the Plumber a Thumbs Up) Good on you, Weeg. You're making us proud already.

Cloud: (Notice Something in Front of Him) Huh. I didn't know you have a bit of chest hair.

Luigi: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Yeah. I uh.....Never got the chance to shave as of late.

Daisy: See!?~ (Happily Hugs her Man) I told you your body is beautiful. (Gives Luigi a Flirty, Seductive Smirk on her Face) It makes me wanna eat you up~ (Starts Kissing the Plumber's Cheek) ('Mmmmm-)

Samus: (Smack Daisy Upside the Head with a Deadpinned Look on her Face) Quit being thirsty already.

Daisy: (Winces a bit in Pain While Rubbing her Head) Okay! Okay! Fine. I'll behave. (Pouts at the Bounty Hunter) Didn't have to hit me that hurt, you know......

Luigi: (Gives Daisy a Sheepish, Reassuring Smile) It's okay, Daisy. We'll spend some quality time together once we get back to the mansion~ (Kiss Daisy on the Lips) I promise~

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly as She Pulls Luigi into a Loving Hug) Thanks, sweetie!~ I love you so much~

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) I love you too, dear~ Thank you.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@bestpony666

@luigifan00001

#super smash ultimate #luigi #daisy #king dedede #samus aran #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #lots and lots of fluff here #body posititivity #cute romance #daisy loves luigi #luigi protection squad #pure friendship #spring break week

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avmisworld · 4 years

Text

Jungkook as your boyfriend:

● Y'all know Jungkook is MAJOR bf material

● The cutest bean uwu

● At the start of your relationship he was probably a bit awkward

● The poor guy is so inexperienced he forgot what it's like talking to a girl who isn't doing his makeup lol

● Is scared to do something you won't like so he's always really careful with his words and actions

● Eventually he'll ease into it and become the shameless loving crackhead you know today

● But sometimes he'll still get a little shy

● Whenever he says something too cheesy or makes a cute mistake or you compliment him

● Always has the cutest bunny smile during these moments

● Always puts your needs before his own

● If you're a foreigner, he'll spend hours learning your native language

● Even though you know Korean and you have no problem communicating uwu

● Makes sure you're eating well and sleeping enough

● Even when he's on diets and sleeps two hours a day max :(

● Always insists to help you even if you don't need it

● "Y/N, let me help you"

● "Babe, I'm combing my hair..?"

● Is always ready to tell you how amazing and beautiful you are whenever you get insecure about your body and talents :'(

● Is legitimately confused why you would ever be insecure in the first place

● When he is insecure tho

● You just tell him the harsh truth

● That he's the world's cutest, most talented and golden bunny, and he's precious to ARMY and to his members uwu

● Tells you he loves you at least a hundred times a day just to see you blush and avoid his eyes cutely

● His favorite thing is making you laugh

● Loves it when you make him laugh as well

● He's an hilarious person so he doesn't have to try much to succeed

● Loves to make funny faces at you during one of your fake-serious banters

● You two have a shit ton of private jokes (wtf is funny about a plastic cup????)

● You live on sending each other memes and stupid videos of people falling down stairs lmfao

● You two are severe crackheads oof

● It's very likely to find the two of you awake at 3 am having a dance party or karaoke after too much wine

● Constantly having tickle fights, wrestling matches, pillow fights, what not

● Do not forget that JK is a savage little shit

● And that doesn't change because you are his girlfriend *sigh*

● Teases you about everything and anything

● Places things high up on purpose just so he can show up later with his chest puffed out and take it down for you with a smirk

● "Did I hear a damsel in distress?"

● But makes sure not to take it too far uwu

● This kid is competitive af omg

● A relationship with him means turning everything into some race or bet

● "I bet I can finish this hot dog faster than you"

● "Whoever brushes their teeth faster gets to shower first!"

● You see this a lot when the two of you game as well

● There is no way you can date Jeon Jungkook without playing Overwatch at least once lol

● Video game tournaments

● He wins most of the time but if he'll ever lose it's because he let you smh

● Is competitive also when it comes to other people

● Always has to prove to you that he's the best and that you made the right choice dating him

● Like you would ever doubt that pffft

● Whenever someone impresses you Jungkook would just jump out and be like

● "That's pretty cool, but did you see the new move I learned?" *breaks neck*

● Going to a fun fair would just be you going back home with a truckload of plushies from Jungkook winning in all the booths kfkfkd

● Dates with him are so cute and fun

● He loves taking you out sm

● It doesn't matter if it's movie night, ramen dates, dinner dates, lunch dates, beach dates, amusement park dates, coffee dates, workout dates, study dates, ice-skating dates

● Jungkook's inner child always comes out with you

● Probably because he never really got the time to be a real child :(

● You're the only person aside from his members and family who gets to see the real him

● He's so whipped for you

● Literal heart eyes

● Can't stop staring at you with twinkling eyes and a wide bunny smile

● When you catch him he'll look away and blush but he'll feel satisfied when he sees you blush as well uwu

● He finds everything you do adorable and can't help but send you bashful laughs and affectionate gazes

● even if he won't admit it kkk

● Compliments you all the time

● Compliments about your looks, your outfits, your smallest, most insignificant achievements uwu

● Always notices the small things about you that no one else does

● "Wow, Y/N, these new earrings look so good on you, babe"

● Basically Jungkook loves to spoil you hehe

● Buys you presents all the damn time

● You don't encourage him to do so because you hate feeling like he's your sugar daddy or smth and you aren't with him from his money

● But he just can't help it when he sees something he knows you'll like

● Spends more time shopping for you than for himself

● But it's all worth the gleam of excitement in your eyes when you see his presents

● Even if you playfully slap him and pout

● "I told you to stop wasting money on me!"

● Also makes you his own personal presents uwu

● Usually gives you them before he goes on tour to cheer you up

● Anything from portraits of you he drew secretly, to paintings of beautiful landscapes, to songs he wrote for you, to a collage of pictures you took of you

● Jungkook loves taking pictures and videos of you

● Takes snaps of you secretly cause he knows you're shy uwu

● His camera roll and gallery is entirely filled with pictures of you sleeping, eating, laughing, smiling, staring, talking, etc…

● Plus cute selfies and candid shots of the two of you with huge grins and arms wrapped around each other

● And memey selfies of the two of you that you would literally bury yourself if anyone would find lol

● Also has little, random videos of you just scrolling on your phone or something

● "Y/N, look at mee~~"

● It's really hard when Jungkook leaves for tour for both of you

● Late night video calls almost every day

● Even when Kook is after a concert, with his eyelids sticking to each other like glue π-π

● Calls you half asleep and the two of you just talk about meaningless stuff until one of you falls asleep uwu

● Sends you snaps all day of him and the guys and everything they're doing

● Does it so you'll see he's having fun and staying healthy

● Wants you to do the same so you send him selfies of you and your boring university lifestyle

● He insists that he finds it interesting and that he wants to see your face

● "I can't be deprived of touching you and seeing you! It's too much."

● Doesn't answer texts ever so you mostly communicate through phone/video calls and snaps/memes

● When he comes back from tour you wait for him at the airport

● His face lights up when he sees you and he smiles so wide π-π

● No matter how exhausted he is he runs to you like a lighting bolt

● Hugs you tightly and twirls you around while the other members watch fondly

● One of the few times he'll agree to so much PDA

● Usually he doesn't really like being too touchy in public

● But he always holds your hand just to make sure you're next to him, safe and sound uwu

● Brings you so much souvenirs from his trip abroad to make you feel like you were there with him

● Snow globes, magnets, clothes, key chains, plushies…

● All of it to remind you he thought about you every single day he was away

● When you're together you're so domestic

● If it's making food together, Jungkook teaching you BTS' newest choreo, working out, or even cleaning the house together

● Nothing's boring with Jungkook

● He's a whole different person when you're alone

● Calls you sweet nicknames like "baby", "babe", "jagi", "princess" and "angel"

● He's singing all day so it feels like your constantly stuck in "The Greatest Showman"

● But you can't really complain cause Gukkie's sweet honey voice is your favourite thing to hear

● Sometimes he'll talk to you in songs only to piss you off

● But most of the time he'll sing to you when you can't sleep or when you feel sad or sick

● He'll comb his hands through your hair gently while he sings to you softly *heart-attack*

● Picks you up all the time

● It might be because he loves to prove that he's strong enough to protect you and cherish you

● But also because he loves hearing your shrieks of surprise and soft laughter

● Piggybacks on the street, carrying you bridal style around the house, lifting you up like a baby in his arms when you playfully fight and twirling you around

● Just all the time really

● "Okay, okay, I'm sorry~~ Please let me down"

● Because you live together when he's in Korea you're always stealing his clothes

● He pretends to not like it and demands you to give it back to him

● But if you're ever cold or in the need of some clothing he'll be the first to throw you his wardrobe

● His slightly possessive nature feeds off seeing you all small and soft in his clothes

● It probably turns him on tbh

● Because of this he has a big thing for couple items as well

● Whether it's outfits, phone cases, lockscreens, accessories, and eventually jewelry (like promise rings uwu)

● Brags about you to the members 24/7

● "Look at this picture I took of Y/N when she wasn't looking! Isn't she the prettiest?"

● "Hyung, did you hear that Y/N was voted for best student in her class? Wah, I was really so impressed! She's a genius."

● The members high-key tease him for it and say it's annoying

● But they secretly think it's adorable how happy you make him and adore you so much for it fr

● You getting along with the rest of the members so well makes Jungkook really happy

● Even though he might get too protective sometimes

● Gets jealous often and is horrible at hiding it despite not saying it directly smh

● Watches from afar when you laugh at something Taehyung says, pinching his cheek lightly

● His eyebrows are furrowed and he's tonguing his cheek like he always does when he's jealous

● Eventually he has enough and comes over to you

● Pecks your cheek or pulls you to sit in his lap and tells everyone about the date you have planned for tomorrow

● "So, me and Y/N are planning to go to a picnic tomorrow at Han river…"

● And you're trying so hard not to smile cause he's just being so obvious and you find it cute

● A few time his jealousy leads to fights tho

● Fighting with Jungkook in general is a rare occurrence

● But when you do fight it can get pretty bad

● Rather than shouting or losing his temper, Jungkook tends to shut himself off when the fight is serious

● He stays quiet and talks only when it's necessary

● "Whatever" "Do what you want"

● It's mostly because he's afraid to say something he'll regret later

● He'll probably leave the apartment and go to the gym/studio/dorm room to calm down and clear his head

● Because both of you have big egos, it might take a few days to make up

● If Jungkook's at fault, he will eventually swallow his pride and apologize to you

● If it were the other way around tho

● You're not going to hear a word from him until you admit you were at fault

● No matter how much it'll hurt him to be away from you

● Even after the fight is over it might take a little time for things to go back to how they were

● Because Jungkook's pride and insecurities might get in the way of him approaching you

● But with enough patience you'll be back to being the inseparable couple you were before

● In case you think I forgot

● Skinship is a must in your relationship

● Jungkook loves to cuddle with you

● He's always the big spoon, with his hands underneath your (his) shirt, just gently caressing the skin of your stomach and hips

● Or with you laying on top of his chest, legs tangled together

● A lot of times cuddling leads to heated make out sessions and even more

● When he's troubled or exhausted he likes to nuzzle his head in the junction between your shoulder and neck and just breathe you in

● Tight hugs when you see each other after a while with his hands pressing your face to his chest protectively

● Back hugs are a must obviously

● Creeps up behind you when you're working and scares the frick out of you when he wraps his arms around your waist

● Loves forehead kisses because it's another opportunity to boast about how tall he is smh

● Also cheek kisses, nose kisses, ear kisses, neck kisses, knuckle kisses and lip kisses ofc lol

● Kisses you out of the blue and then pretends like nothing happened

● "Sorry, I couldn't help it"

● Lots of sweet, soft, loving kisses uwu

● Has a thing for nibbling/biting you (mostly your earlobe/bottom lip/fingers)

● Loves giving hickeys oml

● It fits his possessive nature perfectly

● The more people know you belong to him, the better

● Loves when you sit in his lap skdjd

● He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you closer so he can place his chin on your shoulder, occasionally leaving butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulders

● Also into cuter things like poking your cheeks when you do something cute, ruffling your hair, tickling you and pinching your cheeks and bopping your nose.

● When it comes to bed, Jungkook is definitely a dom

● Just like he is on stage kdkck

● Puts your pleasure before his own and makes sure you're a 10474859% with whatever he's doing beforehand

● Sex after a fight or after he gets jealous and needs to remind himself you're only his

● Dirty talk ahhhh

● He can also be soft tho

● Like when he's making love to you omg my hearteu

● Whispering praises and sweet words in your ear

● Staring into your eyes with his dark, intense ones

● Moans alot and likes it when you do too

● Occasionally he lets you have the upper hand

● Doesn't spend too much time on aftercare because he wants to go back to holding you as quickly as possible

● The two of you fall asleep naked with your bodies completely tangled together

● Also likes showering with you

● less in a sexual way and more as another opportunity to pamper you

● Scrubs you carefully and puts shampoo for you

● Uses soap foam to grow you a fake beard this boi srsly

● Basically he loves you like no one else and you're destined to be

● The best boi there is <3

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