#sorry you think the prettiest boy in the whole wide world is 4 and can’t be called pretty or you’re a candy van driver | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crazedlunatic · 1 year

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Daddy Is Pretty Now (Repost)

Going through my writing stuff and organizing and updating stuff.

Found this gem today for 4-15-30-2013. Wonder what else I'll find in my 'archives' by trying to spring cleaning my computer and life?

....

“Paint Daddy’s nails next.” Four year old Sophie chirped, sitting across from Blaine with her hands flat on the table as he painted her nails a pretty pale purple. She kicked out her feet excitedly.

“Sophie, nail polish is for girls.” Blaine laughed. “Daddy’s usually don’t wear nail polish.”

“But Daddy, I has the perfect color for your comdection.” Sophie protested.

“You have the perfect color or my complexion.” Blaine corrected. “And you also are spending entirely too much time with Kurt.”

Sophie giggled.

“Do you even know what a complexion is?” Blaine asked her, moving onto her right hand.

“Uh huh.”

“What? Huh? What?” Blaine grinned.

“I dunno.” Sophie giggled, pulling her hand away and covering her face.

Blaine leaned over the little TV dinner table they were using, tickling her sides. “I thought you said you knew what it was!”

“I dunno! I dunno!” She shrieked, flailing in her chair. “I dunno!”

Blaine cackled and then quit tickling her. “That’s why we don’t lie, Monkey.”

“Cause Daddy’s a big haired meany face?” Sophie pouted.

“Oh, Daddy isn’t mean.” Blaine kissed the top of her hair. “And you need to come up with your own insults. I hear Kurt’s enough as it is.”

Sophie giggled and pet his face. “Pretty hand.” She then raised her right hand. “Not pretty.”

“Impatient.” Blaine laughed, putting her hand flat on the table and beginning to paint the rest of her finger nails.

“Daddy next.” Sophie said, legs beginning to swing again excitedly.

“No, I don’t think so.” Blaine sang.

“I dooo.” Sophie sang back.

“Well I’m older.” Blaine tapped her nose.

“I’m prettier!”

“Well you’ve got that right. You can’t be prettier than the most prettiest person on the whole wide world!” Blaine dramatically sighed. “I guess you win. What color?”

“It’s gonna be a surprise, Daddy.” Sophie said before pursing her lips together.

Oh boy, Blaine thought to himself as he put the cap back on the purple nail polish. “Give it a few minutes to dry and then we can begin the torture.”

“Timer please!” Sophie chirped.

Blaine set his cell phone timer to three minutes, watching her rock back and forth impatiently until it went off. After that, she ran back and hauled in a box holding all of her nail polishes.

“I see you and Daddy have added to the collection.” Blaine noted.

“I get a new color every Tuesday.” Sophie informed him. “Don’t look!”

“Well what am I supposed to look at?”

“Dunno.” Sophie giggled again and pulled herself up on the chair across from him, several bottles in her hands. He could only see the tops, though, so he had no idea what colors they were.

“Are you sure Daddy has to do this?” Blaine asked.

“Yep!”

Kurt better have bought more finger nail polish remover... Blaine thought to himself.

“No looking!” Sophie scolded as Blaine’s eyes wandered to the bottles she was placing on the table.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Blaine looked at the TV across the room, happy to find out that UK was still winning the basketball game he’d been watching before Sophie demanded her fingernails be painted—and no, Blaine could not root for any college team that was UK. He’d tried back when the team had had a really bad run three years in a row, but even then he couldn’t move on.

It seemed like only seconds before Sophie pulled his attention back. “All done and so pretty!”

Blaine looked at his nails, which were each about a million colors swirled together. The art of a four year old, for sure. “Oh… wow.”

“Daddy is pretty now.” Sophie smiled sweetly. “But not as pretty as me.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and then kissed her cheek. “Thank you. I hope you remember I let you do this when you’re fourteen and hate me. Kurt would never let you paint his nails.”

Sophie kissed his cheek back.

“Now put your stuff up.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Sophie ran off with her box of nail polish.

Blaine rushed into the bathroom, pulling the nail polish remover out so he wouldn’t forget to take it off before going to bed. He would probably not enjoy going into work tomorrow looking like a pastel rainbow had thrown up on his fingernails.

…

“Blaine.” Bob hissed.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked.

Bob pointed down at his nails and then glanced over at the clients they were seeing, a couple who were in their forties. No way to get it off.

“I forgot. Fuck.” Blaine muttered. “Maybe they won’t notice.”

“Right.” Bob snorted ahead into the office, but Blaine saw him laughing when he thought Blaine wasn’t looking.

Blaine introduced himself as usual to the clients, smiling cheerfully as ever. His smile wavered a bit when the woman glanced down at his hand and then back up at him.

“I have a little girl.” Blaine said apologetically. “And I forgot to take it off before I went to bed apparently.”

“How old is she?” The woman laughed.

“Old enough to know better but young enough that I can’t say no.” Blaine sighed. “She’s mastered the pout.”

“She must be a toddler.” The woman said.

“Four.” Blaine nodded.

“And she’s already mastered the pout? You’re in trouble.” Her husband said.

“Big trouble. She’s Daddy’s girl and has me wrapped around her finger.” Blaine raised his hand and then pushed open the door to their meeting room. “Apparently. But we can go on in, Bob’s getting the papers set up for you.”

The people walked in, sitting at the table. Bob came over, looked at Blaine, and just laughed silently.

Blaine was really going to have to learn how to say no to Sophie.

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It

featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway

DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)

(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)

seriously though some of these are really bad

#1: He A Snack

Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.

Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.

Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I want a divorce.

#2: I’m From Hell

Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.

Klaus: Everything hurts.

#3: Animal Puns

Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.

Diego: You’re my otter half.

Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.

#4: Stars

Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Klaus: Yup.

Diego: You know who else is beautiful?

Klaus: Ben.

#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister

Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.

Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.

#6: Bad Boys

Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.

Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.

Diego: Well yeah but -

Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.

Diego: … I wear leather?

Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.

#7: Prince Charming

Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -

Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.

Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.

Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.

#8: Chemistry

Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -

Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.

#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.

Diego: I like your pants.

Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.

Diego: *voice cracks* Really?

Klaus: No.

#10: Boyfriend Material

Diego: My jeans are made of -

Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.

Diego: Okay but -

Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.

#11: Digits

Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -

Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.

Diego: I can… buy us some?

Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.

Diego: Baby no.

Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?

Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.

Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.

#12: Love At First Sight

Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -

Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.

Diego: - should I walk by again?

Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.

#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You

Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -

Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.

#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit

Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.

Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?

Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.

Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.

Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.

#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It

Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?

Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -

Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?

Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?

Diego: *rethinking life decisions*

#16: Baby I’m All Yours

Diego: Do you have a name?

Klaus: Klaus.

Diego: Or can I call you mine?

Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.

Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?

Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.

#17: (Not) Bookworms

Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.

Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.

Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*

Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.

Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?

Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.

Diego: And you know this how?

Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?

Diego: Can you let of my face please?

#18: Bad Move, Buddy

Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you just call me old?

Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -

Klaus: *releases savage war cry*

Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*

#19: I Rate This 0/10

Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -

Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.

Diego: Oh… I know, baby -

Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -

Diego: Klaus.

#20: Oh Shit

Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?

Klaus:

Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?

Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -

#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For

Diego: Is your name Google? Because -

Klaus: Diego. For the last time…

Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -

Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?

#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.

Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?

Klaus: Drugs.

Diego: Baby -

Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.

Diego: *grins* For Five?

Klaus: *nods* For Five.

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego: He’ll hate them.

Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.

#23: Deja Vu

Diego: Have we met before?

Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?

Diego: No -

Diego: Wait, you’re high?

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: No?

#24: Such An Optimist

Diego: Are you a time traveller?

Klaus: No, that’s Five.

Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!

Klaus: *stares blankly*

Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?

Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.

Klaus: Because. Ya know.

Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.

Diego:

Diego: Okay then.

#25: Please Go To The Hospital.

Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?

Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!

#26: Suicidal Tendencies

Diego: Hey gorgeous -

Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?

Diego: What?! No! Baby -

#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))

Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.

Klaus:

Klaus: You have five seconds to run.

Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -

#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.

Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?

Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?

Diego:

Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?

Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.

Diego:

Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.

#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap

Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?

Diego: *smirks*

Klaus: *frowns*

Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…

Diego: Klaus -

Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!

Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -

#30: What A Tragedy

Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.

Klaus:

Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.

Diego: *tearing up* I know.

Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?

Diego: *crying* Yes please.

#31: That Can’t Be Allowed

Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*

Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.

Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*

Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.

#32: Merry Christmas

Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: *pouts*

Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!

Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -

Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!

#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.

Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?

Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*

Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.

Diego: *takes soft tiger*

Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.

Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.

#34: Excuse Me?

Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?

Klaus, externally: *blinks*

Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?

#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One

Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.

Klaus: But I’m so unique…

Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.

Diego: Okay…?

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?

Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.

Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.

Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.

Diego:

Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?

Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*

Diego: How the fuck -

#37: Why Would You Say That Though

Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.

Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?

Luther: *chokes on a pickle*

Diego: Oh my god no -

Diego: Well sometimes -

Diego: I mean no of course not -

Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*

#38: Be Safe Kids!

Diego: Can you hold this for me?

Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.

#39: Apocalypse Averted!

Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.

Diego:

Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -

Vanya: *crying from laughter*

#40: Attractive

Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -

Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*

Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -

Diego: *squeaks* What?

#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego

Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?

Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: I’m waiting.

Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -

#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One

Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?

Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.

Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?

Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?

Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.

Klaus: *smiles*

Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*

Klaus: Okay.

Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*

#43: It’s Just You.

Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Klaus, blushing: I -

Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?

Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?

Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.

Diego:

Diego: What?

#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.

Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?

Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.

#46: What The Fuck Klaus

Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.

#47: You Dumbass

Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?

Klaus:

Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: Fuck you’re right -

#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though

Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.

Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*

Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: What the fuck Klaus -

#49: HELLO

Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?

Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.

Diego: So you are happy to see me?

Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.

#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.

Diego: I love you.

Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.

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singeramg · 4 years

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Are you still doing request for your 500 followers celebration ? If you are I would like to request Nr 4 “Is there a reason you are here?” With Walter Marshall 😊

Oh wow, it seemed this one was supposed to be easy and short. Nope. Didn’t happen that way so here’s part one of three. I hope that you like it and thats much for participating in this!

Title: The Heart Fate Breaks - Part I

Rating: M

Pairing: Walter Marshall ( Nomis/ Night Hunter) / Reader!

Warnings: ANGST!, Implied Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of illegal activity, implied depression, deception, kidnapping, descriptions of violence, but not completely detailed, loss of pregnancy, and of course smut.

A/n: This is my first attempt at Walter Marshall so if he seems to ooc, then let me know ( kindly please), Also there are gifs scattered through this piece and that is because that is how I am imagining him aging throughout the story. Sorry if seeing other Henry Characters throws you off too bad. If I get too many complaints about it I will take them out. Thanks for giving this a chance

Part 1: The end is always closer than you think:

This had been a long time coming. Fated is a word many would put to it. You’d spent so much time crying over this man, imagining what the reaction would be once you saw him again that you lost many nights of sleep. Nobody knew the hurt you felt when you realized that all of it had been a lie. That you meant nothing to him. A pawn in a lengthy game of chess all to catch someone else in his net.

You met Marshall back when you were both young, a 18 year old and a 20 something that was still trying to figure out the world. You a young idealistic type, determined to get away from a bad home life and he came in as the bad boy, riding his motorcycle, leathered up, a chip on his shoulder ready to prove to the world he was bad ass, but one look at you and he softened like a stick of butter.

Flashback:

It had been a typical Friday night. It had been one of your first college parties at least as an actual student. It had been a night of being deemed the Freshman-Fresh Meat and it seemed everywhere you turned some frat was trying to paw you in some misplaced sense of entitlement. You rebuffed many and sent them away holding your drink in hand. You’d gotten bored as the roommate you’d came with didn’t have the same ideals of coming into the party together and leaving together as your phone just dinged with a ‘don’t wait up’ text message from her. You saw a few familiar faces from your Chem. Class, and after a few moments of small talk, you were ready to go back to your dorm, and would have done except, he walked through the door.

He was the type of guy that made you pay attention to him with his tall stature and natural curls, clearly confident, despite having a baby face he was certainly older, and he somehow commanded attention and respect. It was definitely a turn on. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who noticed him as the sorority girls and other randoms from the party were conveniently finding themselves in his path. You found it interesting that he did it so smoothly, a wide smile and some sort of flirting behavior that got them to move and let him walk through the crowd. Some girlish part of you wanted him to notice you. You wanted him to see you above all the petty makeup and unclothed bodies. It was unlikely to happen so just as you tossed back the rest of the beer from your red solo cup, losing sight of the gorgeous man and settled for tossing the cup in the overflowing trash. You give a few halfhearted goodbyes as you head for the door but in a twist of fate, you trip over something random on the floor, well actually it was more like something was wet on the floor, but you lose even more chances of staying on your feet, by running into someone else who’d been dancing, he turns around pissed but the missing bad boy catches you in strong arms and defuses it rather quickly.

“Can’t let the prettiest girl in the room crack that face can I?”

His ego is evident in his words. It makes your eyes roll and you straighten up. Removing his hands from your hips, you dust off and step back, not letting yourself become intimidated by his height over you. You put on your armor of fake confidence when faced with an undetermined outcome of a situation. At your attempted step back he steps forward, not giving you a chance to avoid his cologne and damn him if he didn’t smell like fucking woods, and warmth and everything you liked. You ignore the errant thoughts of climbing him like a tree and push him back, but his grip only loosens, doesn’t actually release you.

“No but maybe she will crack yours if you don’t back up.”

He tosses his head back, loose curls falling away from his face, you bite a sigh at the jawline again.

“Awe is that how’d you repay a man just trying to help?”

He steps even closer but you don’t move back this time.

“Usually no, but for you I’d make an exception.”

“Here I was thinking I’d get a thank you.”

“And I was thinking I’d get personal space. Do you want me to pat you on your back, maybe a cookie?” You know you sound patronizing, but you don’t care. You weren’t ready to give up the ghost yet.

“ I’d settle for your name?”

You can’t deny the big blue eyes that were trying to form something substantial between the two of you.

“It’s Y/N.”

“A beautiful name for the equally impressive woman in front of me.” He is laying it on kind of thicker than you normally go for, but you find yourself unable to turn him away.

“Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

“ Marshall...Walker.”

He offers you and you say to him,

“ Now that we’ve got past the hard part, I must ask Is there a reason you are here? You know still in my face” noting that he was still holding you lightly, He dazzles a wide smile, sharp pointed canine teeth that screams he wants to make you his prey.

“Maybe I am just not ready to let you go.”

The cheesy line works and you let him take your hand to get another drink.

And so it began...

*End Flashback

He fell into the place as your protector, nobody ever dared to put their hands on you when he was around, nobody in your terrible family ever even let you see the dark side to what they did again. Mostly.

You weren’t stupid you knew they had been dealing and apart of gang activity for years, but honestly it kept you safe from a lot of outside forces, it just didn’t protect you from the inside.

You were in your 30s now. A decade and a half between the first time you met him and now, you’d made peace that you had done everything you could to escape the feeling of being utterly alone in the world. You were tired. You were tired of putting on a brave face, tired of setting your own standards so high that if by chance anyone could connect you to your family they’d know without a doubt that you managed to land a whole field away from the tree.

You’d had relationships since Marshall but despite everything you couldn’t find that connection in anyone else. The colors had faded with the hurt, leaving behind whispers of memories of time you’d never get back. The memories always hurt when they crashed into you. The late night walks along the creeks and bridges, the talks that lasted hours without trying, how he’d been so gentle in being your first, the way he held you in his arms every time the world got to be too much.

*Begin Flashback #2*

It was a warm summer night, thankfully a breeze came across that made the muggy night just bearable. Marshall had hit it off enough with your family that they had basically adopted him into the fold.

Well everyone except your mother, but she didn’t truly like anyone so it was no surprise he shot thinly veiled insults at Marshall, and he took it like a champ for the sake of loving you.

He worked for them, but maintained a job at the docks too, to help them. Having found time away from his job down at the docks to spend what he could with you made you feel above it all. He gave you those butterflies in your stomach, made you feel like you could accomplish anything. Despite him getting into the family business he was only doing that so that he could make enough money to take you away from this life. He’d listened when you explained how your family lived and how you tried so many times to get away but they always tracked you down and dragged you back. They barely wanted you to go to college but you’d let them know that if they wanted you quiet then letting you continue your education your way was the only option. You family had always teased you for wanting more but Marshall didn’t. He encouraged everyone of your dreams and pushed you even when you didn’t think it was possible. His duality was astounding for you to witness because he never let anything happen when you were with him, the epitome of strong, quiet, powerful type, a man of very few words, but you always knew he cared. He made sure you wanted for nothing. So when enough time had passed in your mind, you felt he was worthy of your ultimate prize.

Not a decision to come to lightly but you decided that tonight you would give Marshall what many had been hoping to get from you as a means to controlling you or to say they had the untouchable Princess of the local mob family. So many had wanted for you to choose them but you knew it was meant to be Marshall.

So here you were a warm borderline muggy summer night, spending time just outside the city in the field of a farm in Marshall’s old beat up pickup that he used for transportation, but now cleaned out and blanketed with old comforters and pillows, he’d gotten you away from the chaos of your world, somewhere no one could interfere and ruin it, and made you feel like it was just you and him.

His touches on your body were delicate as he hovered over you, small kisses and few drinks led to heavy petting and an understanding of what you wanted for yourself.

Marshall was it.

Strong hands slide up your heated flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake, folding into your hair, his body pressing yours into the bed of the pickup. Marshall kisses down your neck, peeling the fabric of your sundress off, his following yours, maybe not with the full grace of his hands because yours were shaking, but making eye contact once you lay before him assured you that this was the right choice. The right moment and when he grinds into you, making you hiss and buck into his hardness you pull him down by his curls and kiss him again. Letting him steal your breath away as he always managed to do as he pushes into you, only moments after making you climax on his tongue and fingers, beard burn forming from the stubble he was refusing to shave, from him tasting what you’d been so willingly open to giving him.

“Just breathe. Let me take care of you baby girl.”

You just hold on tightly to the back that has been putting on muscle steadily, as he kisses the side of your face, wiping tears off your skin with such a delicate touch, and eventually the pain gives way to pleasure. Holding his body against yours, thrusting into you, alternating passionate kisses on your swollen lips to your neck and chest, and letting his hands move all over you once he takes note of you calming down. He feels like he is almost too much, but he just keeps encouraging you. You are making pitiful noises but it just encourages his movement. He knows exactly what to say too as your body gives way to him.

“There’s my girl opening up for me. Taking me all in.”

He grinds for emphasis, pushing his thickness into you harder than he had been and then you moan in his ear again. Soon he is steady, but he is driving you mad, with pleasure. You mildly wondered what had taken so long to experience this, but you also know it wouldn’t be like this with anyone but him.

“M...Marshall yes.”

You feel your walls pulsing against the cock inside of you, trying to force the largeness out of forgein territory but he stays exactly where you need him, even stopping as he pushes you both toward a force stronger than both of yourselves.

“You feel so good...”

His words are like honey pouring over you slow...

*End Flashback*

It had been more than what you expected. Past the feelings of just lust, he made you feel like nothing could go wrong in this world. The hatefulness of your world, your family felt like nothing in his arms.

He made you feel like you could do anything.

That had been years ago and now you hated him for it.

You had worked so hard not to feel this weak again but one flash of his picture, years aged came across your TV screen as he received commendation from the mayor had been enough to set you on edge. You don’t know this Walter Marshall.

The longer hair and a thicker beard, he almost doesn’t look familiar, but his eyes. His eyes always gave him away to you. He’d never been able to lie to you with them and his smile.

Turned out those had been the biggest lie of them all.

You’d taken your fair share of losses over the years but you’d also gained. You’d gained a hard earned degree in social work, you’d gained a job that had taken you around the world on missions to save kids, you’d accomplished so much and yet it meant nothing because the feeling of loneliness still persisted. You just purchased a beautiful home far removed from the wasteland of empty feelings and space you grew up in but it had no life. It had no life because that life had been stolen from you so long ago.

So you go out to have a drink, maybe find a warm body to help you forget the way you felt, but somehow 1 drink turned into only one more but for some reason your head was spinning. You’d know this wasn’t you. You could handle your drinks, but by the time you could mention to anyone that it was sinister doings you were hogtied in some weirdo that had been at the bar basement. It was dark, and cold as you shivered against the concrete. The musk of wood and old damp space invaded your senses as the clothes tied around your mouth stole all the moisture from your mouth and you tried yelling to no avail. The basement door opens the weirdo comes down, his heavy weight no match for yours as he lifts you up from the floor, you kick, you scream, you fight, but he manages to drag you across the floor and down a hallway in that same basement that seems to go on forever, the end is a room. This room has a light but you wish it didn’t. The mattress is filthy and stained in various fluids that you don’t want to name. You mildly wonder if this is how you die.

How many had been in this exact same position as he handcuffs you to the gunmetal colored frame and it shakes barely holding onto your weight. You felt your face wet but you almost didn’t register that they were your tears until a raspy yet cold “my pets don’t cry. Unless I make them.”

You have to be shaking by now as the realization sets in that this was beyond simple murder, maybe beyond rape, he intended on torturing you until you thought death was the gift. You screw your eyes shut, memories of one of the other times you felt worse take over your brain and with no distractions as you normally have, you fall in head first to your own personal hell...

Begin Flashback 3

It had been a year with Marshall. A full glorious year of just being with him and him protecting you from your family. He’d sat with you through various holidays, played nice with your brothers and father, while working his way up the ranks to where now he was one of the most trusted in the organization. You never questioned how he did it, only that he came home to you. You’d moved in together about two months ago, against the wishes of your mother who didn’t think much of her daughter. In fact she had it made up in her mind that you thought you were better than them, that you were hateful and spiteful when in reality all you wanted was freedom.

You wanted the freedom to love and do what you wanted, not be judged by the legacy of blood your family left in its wake.

You’d only wanted him and Marshall made sure you knew he felt the same. He had a cold streak that could frighten some of the deadliest men you knew. How one look could shut them down and if it didn’t get shut down he...took care of it. However you two were about to embark on a whole new journey.

Parenthood.

Not that he knew. You’d only just figured it out yourself with a handful of home pregnancy tests and then a blood test with your doctor. You loved your child already and he’d talked about a family with you but the time right now was all off, but you knew the kind of man he was would do what he could for you. It wouldn’t be easy but the motto had always been “together”. It didn’t make you any less scared to be a mom which is why despite your strained relationship with your own you went to her for advice.

The house looked and felt just as it did growing up. A large home full of beautiful things but coldness. The lack of cars told you that the rest of your family wasn’t home, which was exactly what you didn’t want. If your father and brothers found out before Marshall, they wouldn’t care how much money he made them, they’d make his life a story of regret from the day he saved you from a face plant at the party. No you had to break the news, but you needed some advice. So you walk in, following the smell of white diamonds perfume your mother loves, up to the grand master bedroom. Taking off your shoes and the maid, takes your coat.

You almost laughed as you walked into the hallways of the house. Before your family transitioned into major players of the drug scene, you remembered the simpler times of a small house, fenced in porch that your grandma would sit on drinking tea and reminiscing as she told you stories about her childhood. Your mom is actually caring about what you wanted and needed. It had been a simplistic time, blissfully unaware of what your father did, your brother just going into high school, and the care of your mother was probably the reason you were pacing outside her bedroom door now.

You knock on one side of the white french doors and wait for an answer like you were taught to do, sweeping your feet across the soft carpet in small half circles.

“Come in Y/N.”

You smirk and open the door , following the light from her en-suite bathroom to where she was sitting at the vanity, putting the last touches on her full face of makeup.

“How did you know it was me momma?”

She laughs at you, a sharp smile on her face, framed by delicate laugh lines, still beautiful on the outside even if you knew how ruthless she could be with what she wanted. You hoped that the joy of a new grandchild would overshadow that you weren’t married to the father first. That he wasn’t some guy of high standing that she’d envisioned married you off to.

“You’ve been fidgety since you were a child, your brothers only knock if it’s an emergency AND your father was here, which considering what he has going on today home is the furthest thing from his mind. Honestly it never is even or normal days dear, but never the less I know you well enough that you aren’t here for just pleasantries.”

So you sigh and look down into her eyes, only because she was still sitting down, but you still felt like a child. Magically, it takes her only a minute and 17 seconds before her eyes widen and she looks at you.

“Oh my goodness *Your full name Here* you are pregnant.”

At her words you drop to your knees at her feet, much like a small child she lets you put your head in her lap as the relief of someone other than your doctor knowing about the life inside of you. She pats your head soothingly and you feel for the first time that she is on your side.

“It’s okay sweetheart. We will be okay, everything will be okay. We can make this go away. Nothing has to change.”

You look up at her this time, confusion filling your eyes and you shake your head.

“No... no that...that’s not...momma that’s not why I care here.”

She looks at you and scoffs, not caring as she stands up.

“Don’t be foolish Y/N. You are still a child yourself.”

You pull yourself to your feet, wiping the tears from your face. Ready to rebel against her thoughts of what you could be and what you were.

“I am not a child mother. I am 21.”

“You are not ready for a child.”

“Is anyone ever really?” You say with an off handed attitude that she clearly doesn’t appreciate. She steps around the chair to get closer to you.

“You most certainly are not. Besides what about all these lofty plans you made for yourself. You are the one who just HAD to go college. We spent all this money for you to go and you want to toss it away by having a child with nobody who can barely afford that hovel you live in much less a whole child.”

Angry she tossed a hand in the air in disbelief of her decision.

“We both do just fine...”

“You do just fine because of us. He works for us. We allowed this to go on for as long as possible because he seemed to keep you out of trouble and more or less distracted. He promised us he would keep you safe, make sure you knew what it means to be with someone in this lifestyle as a true partner, so that when the time comes to let you go to someone worthy...”

“You are lying! You will say anything to get me to do what you want. Marshall loves me and he will love this baby.”

“What did I just say child?! He cannot love you, because if he did he would know this would only hold you back. Your father and I have so much to show you, to give you the keys to be comfortable in such ways we never had growing up and you want to toss it away for a glorified errand boy!”

“ So this is just about control. Just like you always do. You can’t stand to see me happy unless you are the one holding the puppet strings. Well you know what...I am done. All of this is done! Marshall and I raise this child and will be everything that you hoped we failed at. I promise you will never see this child if this is how you view us.”

You turn quickly, determined to get as far away from her as possible, tears in your eyes, you were determined not to let her see you cry anymore. She no longer deserved that part of you.

“Goodbye Mother.”

She says reverting the formal manners she’d paid through the nose for you to develop. She let you get a few down the steps before you hear her race after you.

“Wait! Y/n please wait!”

The pleading tone was new and unexpected for you. You hadn’t heard the tone used for anything other than in childhood when begging your father not to do something stupid. You had never heard her use it in reference to you. She sounded heartbroken and is why you stop. She runs behind you, a step above you as you turn with tears in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Y/N please don’t leave like this. I just worry for you. You are my only daughter and suddenly my little girl isn't a little girl. I didn’t handle it well.”

You turn with a small smile and look at the soft look on her face. Once again not seen much since childhood, but it wasn’t forced.

“ No you didn’t but I guess we can give you a second chance to get it right.”

She wraps both arms around your shoulders and you both let her, touching her hands with a soft pat.

“So tell me, baby doll does anyone else know about this gift yet?”

You feel yourself beaming at her interest, the childhood nickname making you preen, excited that you would have guidance and maybe even get back the mother you’d been missing since you moved into this house.

“No. Actually not even Marshall, I came over hoping you’d give me some advice on how to tell him. I am so nervous.” You say walking slowly because you weren’t close enough to hold onto either side of the railing on the large stairs.

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, I think that will be the least of your worries...”

You turn to look at her but her smile is gone and a strong shove sends you careening down the rest of the steps, terror fills your veins and you panic, your life flashing before your eyes, things you did, things you never got to say. Only sounds of your screams echoing in the foyer. You hear your mother's footsteps as your head spins as you land.

She yells for help, but before anyone can come she leans down and says

“I did this for you.”

You feel the room spinning as you fight to keep consciousness so you could tell someone...anyone about what she did. Just as a maid turns a corner, the front door blasts open with a battering ram. Cops swarm in and you are surrounded, your mother taken to the floor along with unsuspecting maids.

“Help me.”

You manage to breathe out just as you give into the wall of blackness and let yourself fall asleep.

Besides it was more comforting there than knowing your mother had just tried to kill you and your unborn child...

*End flashback 3*

You lost everything that day. Your world shattered on the floor of that marbled foyer and somehow that fear was more than what you felt right now. You wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry again. Of breaking you down to that debased state again.

Turns out that wasn’t good enough for your captor. So he provided the physical pain that gave him the tears he wanted. He wanted to remind you that you had no one who actually gave a damn. Maybe death this way was better.

You could be with the one person who hadn’t left you by volition. You were once again facing that wall of unconsciousness but this time you were tired. Tired of life. The amount of energy it took for you to live was excruciating.

Without him.

Downright impossible.

You should know. You’d tried. So through your muffled whimpers as the weirdo finally decides he’s spilled enough of your blood and has reached where he can get it up enough to desecrate you.

He is climbing over you, the smell of hard liquor pouring from his pores and gross breath and he gets in your ear about how beautiful he thought you were as if that was supposed to endear you to him. You wake up just enough not to just lie there you start fighting back and he smacks you on an already swollen pain, but you fight even more. That bit of fight in you, won’t let this man break you. So you pull against the bindings and try to make it so he has no footing but he starts laughing more.

“There’s the fight. You were getting boring dear. Now... now... now... you really got potential.”

You pray for the ending as he grinds on you but another harsh sound comes as his weight disappears and in the red dim lighting of the room you hear and see the outline of a struggle. Two men fighting for domination of the other but you didn’t know who would win, though it seemed your rescuer had some height over your captor. A few well placed punches and a hard kick to the stomach and your result is standing to his feet, wiping his mouth and you guessed handcuffing the weirdo.

“ Detective Marshall, Full breech, victim is alive, one suspect in custody, medical request for full evac on suspect and victims.”

No.

The voice. Your obvious head injuries were playing a trick on you.

He fumbles around the dirty room and manages to find the light switch and it hurts you so your eyes slam shut and squeeze tight as a way to protect you and also so that your mind doesn't have to reconcile the voice to the face.

One of many reasons you went out drinking alone in the first place.

He walks over to the bed and helps untie you and you whimper as the blood returns to your wrists and your eyes open to find Marshall sitting in front of you. He brushes blood from your face, and tilts your head up, finally making eye contact as you begin to get cloudy headed again because despite your conscious feelings about him, your body still knew it was safe.

“Y/N?” He sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, and honestly it probably was like a ghost.

“Marshall please don’t leave me.”

Your torso falls forward onto his and strong arms wrap around you and you finally sob yourself into unconsciousness....

A/n: So as always I am requesting opinions! I hope this wasn’t too triggering for anyone and that you are excited for the next two part which hopefully should be up in the next few days, as they are in the editing stage.

If you feel so moved reblog, like, comment, follow.

TAGLIST: ( OPEN JUST SEND A REQUEST IF YOU WANT ON OR OFF, ALSO IF YOU HAVE REQUESTED TO BE ON MY HENRY TAG LIST BUT DON’T SEE YOUR TAG LISTED, LET ME KNOW ASAP)

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@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural @keiva1000 @cosmoeticss @luclittlepond @radaofrivia @vikingsbifrost @harrysthiccthighss

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Henry cavil smut #Walter Marshall x Reader #Walter Marshall #fanfiction

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elatedmarvel · 4 years

Text

After All This Time, You and I (1/4)

Summary: Bucky has known you your entire life. Snapshots through the years.

Word Count: 1948

AN: Hello! Long time no see! This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Follower Celebration! Congrats to you Star, you deserve every single one!! My prompt was Best Friend’s Sibling. This was originally going to be a long oneshot, but I felt like the flow was better to separate it into a two-shot. Title is from Mary’s Song by Taylor Swift for obvious reasons. Thank you for hosting this awesome writing challenge Star! I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: tiny mention of violence, swear words

“The building burning up Buck! You gotta get out of here!” Steve shouts staring down his best friend from across the bridge.

“No! Not without you!” comes Bucky’s fierce reply. His eyes scan over the wreck, trying to find something to save Stevie.

Steve takes a deep breath and prays that the crumbling bridge will hold a little longer, and he charges across the chasm. He almost makes it to the other side when his foot gets caught on a pillow. Tumbling over, he avoids landing on Bucky, but knocks over the unsuspecting person on his right.

You land with a thud on your hands and knees, and quickly scramble to look at your right knee. There’s a moment of silence, and the boys hold their breath waiting for the inevitable wail.

“I’m sorry!” Steve cries before wrapping his arms around you in a clumsy hug. He really didn’t see you playing next to him, it was an accident! Your bottom lip sticks out and your eyes become more and more glassy.

“Please don’t cry” he begs, partly because it breaks his heart, and partially because he doesn't want get in trouble. He knew what kind of hellfire Sarah Rogers could rain down.

“We’re sorry, what can we do to make it up to you?” Bucky asks, scooting himself to face your tear stained face. He felt bad for making Steve run across the bridge, he never meant to hurt you.

“I-I need a groom for my wedding.” you state without hesitation, wiping at your eyes. “And I can’t marry Steve cause he’s my brother, duh.” Your wet eyes turn to look intently at Bucky.

“You can’t get married, you’re 6.” Bucky tries to argue.

“So? You’re 8! That’s only 2 years older! ‘Sides, it’s not real anyway.” you fires back, your bottom lip juts out again, ready to cry if that’s what it takes.

He’s taken a back for a moment at your reply, and blue eyes meet Steve’s pleading ones. He’d do anything for you, and of course Steve was the cherry on top.

“Ok. Fine.”

On a rainy day in April, Steve walks you down the aisle.

Clad in his nicest, unstained, khaki pants, Bucky’s heart skips a beat when he sees you. You’re wearing your Cinderella costume from Halloween, and some stolen red lipstick from your mom, smiling like you got an extra juice pop. Somehow, he already knows your the prettiest girl in the world.

In front of your moms, stuffed animals and barbies, Bucky promises to always make you laugh and smile, and to protect you. You promise to always share her toys and food with him, and to make him feel better when he’s sad.

The ceremony ends after Steve pronounces you both husband and wife, and while your moms cheer and tear up slightly, Bucky leans in and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. It won’t be so bad being married to her, he thinks.

~~~

School sucked for Bucky today. Steve got into a fight with Zemo, which lead to Bucky getting in a fight with Zemo. That punk couldn’t even breathe right, it frustrated Bucky to no end that he couldn’t stop being stupid. Turns out, being punched in face hurts more than it looks in the movies. And of course, his parents weren’t thrilled and took away his TV privileges for the week, which meant he couldn’t find out what happened on his favorite show the Howling Commandos. Last week was even a cliffhanger! Captain America and the Winter Soldier were stuck on a plane with bombs on them and fast approaching Manhattan!

Wallowing, both Steve and him were relegated to “use their imaginations” and playing in the backyard. Bored out of their minds, they played hide and seek, a babies game really if you asked Bucky. But, Steve was nice enough to let Bucky hide first, and Bucky couldn’t say no to that bruised face.

So here he was, climbing the ladder to the old tree house, hoping Steve wouldn’t look here right away. Sniffles drew his attention you, crying softly in the corner with your knees to your chest. You were blasting music from your walkman, Endless Love from what Bucky could hear. It was really bad then. His chest hurt seeing your red rimmed eyes, and crawled next to you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked lowly, taking her headphones off of your head and pausing the song. You didn’t look him in the eye, but leaned into him more when he put his arm around you.

“Stupid boys.” you sniffle. Wiping your face, you finally meet Bucky’s worried eyes. “Jake dumped me for Sierra, cause she always has chocolate snack packs in her lunch.”

“That weasel! Want me to rough him up a little?”

“Thanks, but I think you and Stevie are in enough trouble as it is.” you chuckle, placing your head on his shoulder. He gently rubs his hand up and down your arm, wishing he could take away your pain.

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend, make him jealous your going out with a 6th grader.” he offers.

“You can’t be my boyfriend, you’re already my husband!” you joke. His eyes go wide, remembering your lovely wedding ceremony and the massive amounts of cake you both ate at the “reception”.

“Hey! That’s right! Technically you were cheating on me with him! I want a divorce.” he jokes, bumping your shoulder with his.

You giggle and place a hand on his, “Please forgive me! It’s been so hard being separated from you now that you’re in middle school! He didn’t mean anything! Promise!”

You both erupt laughing so hard that Bucky falls over and brings you with him, which makes you both laugh even harder. Managing to calm down, he places a kiss on your forehead and hugs you closer to him. His heart does a funny dance in his chest, but he ignores it. You’re so warm against him, and your shampoo smelled so good, he could lay here with you forever.

“I guess I’ll forgive you this once, but don’t let it happen again.” he says solemnly.

You nod, hair tickling his face, “It won’t, you’re the only one for me Bucky Barnes.”

~~~

The room’s getting dark, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the light. Not when Lional Richie was pouring his heart out. He couldn’t go down to dinner, his whole family had heard her breaking up with him. Did Dot really have to come over and break things off in the driveway? It would kill him to see the pity in his mom’s eyes, and sit through the uncomfortable talk with his dad about his feelings. He knew they were worried about him, and wanted to help, but he couldn’t stomach facing them.

They hadn’t been going out for long, but being dumped for the first time, he didn’t know how to handle his heartache. Honestly, he didn’t know if he was even heartbroken, or just wallowing in self-pity of being blindsided by the breakup.

A knock on the door brought him out of his misery. Must be his mom, bringing food up to him like the saint that she was. He stands up slowly, acutely aware of how his muscles ache from being curled in a ball for most of the day, and stretches as he makes his way to the door.

Your bright eyes stare back at him when he opens the door, and in his shock, he takes in the box of pizza you holdand the enormous bag of junk food.

“What’re you doing here?” voice cracking from underuse.

“Steve told me what happened with Dot. I brought pizza and your favorite snacks and movies. I can drop them off and leave though if you would rather be alone?” your voice hopeful that he won’t turn you away. Like he could, he’s never turned you away before and he won’t start now.

A small smile makes its way onto his face, and he opens the door wider so you can come into the bedroom. Your grin soothes the ache in his chest. You put the pizza down on his nightstand and cue up Star Wars. Getting cozy on his bed and patting the spot next to you, it seems like you fit right in. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

By 4 AM, he’s forgotten all about what’s-her-name, and his earlier self-pity and heartbreak. Not when Star Wars was playing in the background and your blinking sleepily at the TV, head on his shoulder.

~~~

“Bucky, we have a situation.” Steve announces, flopping onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky looks up from the laptop in his lap with a confused stare, waiting from Mr. Dramatic to explain. He didn’t have time for his antics, his last college final of the semester was due next week.

“Y/N’s prom date bailed on her, and it’s tomorrow.” was all Steve said, and looked at Bucky, waiting for what he knew would happen now.

“That dick.” Bucky replied, mentally searching for his tux. “If I leave now, I can make it with enough time to shower and get ready.” And he hops off the bed, grabbing his duffle bag, he stuffs whatever he may need for the impromptu trip home. Steve just stares at him with a smile on his face like the little shit he is.

A 5 hour drive home, shower, frantic search for his tux, and a quick power nap later, he knocks on your door. He wishes he could photograph the look of surprise on your face, your jaw literally drops when he see him in his tux.

“Bucky?!” And he swears he forgot how beautiful you were. Literally glowing, and he doesn't think it’s from the makeup, he can’t help himself as he takes in your dress. You’ll be the most beautiful one there, no contest. “Hey doll.” he smirks at you, still amused by your shocked state. He can tell when your brain catches up when your eyes soften as you look up at him.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a soft voice.

“Taking you to prom, what else would I be doing?” and he can see you calculating in your head.

“Bucky, you must have driven all night!” you exclaim. Bucky loves when your eyes grow wide, it’s so cute.

“It’s fine, who needs sleep?” he says as he steps inside, past your frozen, and shocked state. Steve must have told your parents he was coming, he can see your parents waiting with the camera in the living room.

“You told me you were going to work on your final all weekend.” you fire back, closing the door.

“This is more important to me.” and he can tell you don’t quite believe him. You have a scowl on your face that reminds him of when you would catch him stealing a piece of candy as kids. He’s pretty sure you think it’s intimidating, but he finds it adorable.

“I promise that I worked on it already, and I’ll be ok.” and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You look beautiful.” your glad your foundation hides the sudden flush of your face.

“You’re not too shabby yourself.” you tease back. But really, seeing him like this does inexplicable things to your heart. He’s so handsome, and he had driven all night to take you to prom. You could just kiss him.

Taking your hands in his, you look into his eyes. “Thank you.” you say earnestly.

And Bucky knew in that moment, he would drive days to get to you if needed.

Part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #star’s multi fandom follower celebration #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfiction

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heroes-among-us-all · 6 years

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How about a hc/scenario about young!Bakugou (maybe around like 4-7 ish?) having a puppy crush on a young!Reader and the little cute things that he does to make the reader acknowledge him? Maybe add an additional hc/wordings about the aftermath a few years later till their highschool years. I'm in need in some fluffy shit sorry 💕💕 Thanks!

Cute request! I changed it just a bit so that the young!Reader moved away and they meet up again in highschool, hope you enjoy :)

“Wow, Katsuki, you’re amazing!”

You grinned ear-to-ear, hobbling forward on your little legs to get a closer look. The young blonde in front of you was sparking off small, contained explosions in the palm of his hands—the first signs of his Quirk manifesting.

“It’s cool, right?” he gushed, unable to contain his own smile. “I just got it a few days ago, and everyone says it’s awesome!”

You nodded hurriedly. “Yep! It is awesome! You’re the best, Katsuki!”

The boy was used to receiving compliments from those around him; rather, it was someone that he’d come to expect. But for some reason, whenever you were the one who got excited on his behalf, it made his chest feel hot and his cheeks would flush a bright red. Your smile was just the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, that much he was sure of.

“The teachers said that I’d be able to become an amazing hero with a Quirk like this,” he huffed, placing his hands on his hips matter-of-factly. “I’ll be even cooler than All Might one day, too!”

Your smile never faltered, because you honestly believed his words to be true. Katsuki was still grinning cheekily, but he faltered for a moment, blushing deeper.

“Ah, but…I’ll be the Number One hero, okay? And then you—“ he pointed towards you with a shaky finger “—You’ll be the Number Two hero. Almost as cool as me, but not exactly the same. That’s still good though, right?”

Your puffy little cheeks flushed, blown away by what he’d just told you. Katsuki almost never acknowledged others, and the fact that he thought you could be anywhere near as strong as him was an amazing feeling.

“Wow,” you mumbled breathlessly. “You really think I could be that good, Katsuki?”

“O-of course you can!” he puffed out, unable to hide his fluster. “You just gotta try your best!”

“…Oh. I’ll do my best, then!”

Caught up in your excitement, you flung your tiny frame over Katsuki’s own. He stiffened as your arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a hug, and you heard the little stammers of embarrassment he let out. He was definitely having a hard time processing your affection, but eventually his small arms fell loosely around your back as well.

“We’ll be the best heroes,” he mumbled against your neck. “The two of us. Together.”

You pulled away only to grin back at him. “Okay!”

“Hey, follow me for a bit,” Katsuki prodded, latching his hand across your wrist. “I know a place near the forest that has a lot of flowers.” His eyes flickered timidly across your frame. “You like…flowers, right?”

“Yup! I love them!”

He smiled. “Okay, cool. Follow me, then!”

Katsuki continued to lead you forward through the brush of the forest. At some point, he’d let go of your wrist and timidly intertwined his fingers with your own. You didn’t miss the heavy blush that lined his cheeks once he did so; it even went all the way up to the tips of his ears. You chatted along happily and without much of a care, stopping only at Katsuki’s signal.

“Look,” he gestured, grinning back at you. “Lots of flowers here. You like ‘em?”

You nodded boisterously. “I do! They’re all so pretty!”

Without warning, you let go of his hand to jump into the bed of vibrantly-colored flora. It was a sort of clearing in the middle of the forest, and there were all sorts of different flowers growing in erratic patches. Katsuki crouched down beside you and smirked.

“I told ya,” he bragged. “Told ya I knew where I could find a ton of ‘em.”

He seemed to be getting giddy of the notion of your approval, or attention. It wasn’t really something he needed to work for though, since you already thought the world of him.

“I know,” you hummed. “I believed you, Katsuki. You’re always showing me cool things, and that’s why you’re my best friend in the entire world!” You outstretched your arms for dramatic effect, and the blonde only flushed at the gesture.

“…Cool,” he mumbled, picking up a flower and running its petals through his fingers. “Yeah, cool. You’re also…my best friend, too.”

You snuggled up closer to him, pressing your shoulders up against one another while you happily admired the bed of flowers. Katsuki mumbled something to himself, eventually plucking a different flower and removing most of the stem—he then leaned in to tuck the flower behind your ear.

“That’s for you,” Katsuki blushed. “It looks pretty. And…you’re also pretty. So I thought it made sense to give it to you.”

You were so happy that you almost didn’t have the words. Katsuki’s bright, crimson eyes were gazing back at you, so full of gentleness and adoration; that which he would almost never show to others. Your fingers absentmindedly passed by the flower tucked behind your ear, and you smiled again.

“You really think I��m pretty?”

He stiffened. “D-duh. I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it, right?”

“That’s true,” you mumbled, timidly curling your fingers into your lap. “Thank you, Katsuki. And I think you’re very pretty, too. Oh, wait—you’re very handsome. That’s what you say to boys that look good, right?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks…”

He looked a bit too flustered for words, and the two of you sat there for a while in silence. It wasn’t unpleasant, or anything. As long as you were with Katsuki, you were happy even just to sit by his side.

Humming to yourself, you leaned forward to pluck another flower, but Katsuki’s little arms had already wrapped around your frame.

“U-umm…(Name),” he croaked, gazing timidly into your eyes. “I want to tell you something, okay? So just listen up, alright?”

“Huh? Okay. I’m listening, Katsuki.”

He inhaled sharply, as if preparing himself for some sort of endeavor. His puffy cheeks were stained with blotchy hues of bright crimson as he stared back at you.

“I want you to be my girlfriend!!”

You blinked slowly, a bit confused at first, but a wide grin was soon to spread across your lips.

“Okay! I’d love to be your girlfriend, Katsuki!”

“E-eh? Seriously…??”

Katsuki’s arms fell off your frame so that he could press a hand up against his burning cheeks. Still, you could see how a shaky smile was steadily forming on his own lips; to the point that he could scarcely contain his excitement.

“B-but not now!” he added hurriedly. “It has to be when we’re older—my mom says those are when the “serious” relationships happen, and I want ours to be…um, y’know…”

“Serious?”

“Yeah!”

You grinned happily. “That sounds good. We’ll be girlfriend and boyfriend when we’re older then, okay? And we’ll be together for a long time?”

“You’re going to be my only girlfriend,” Katsuki declared. “And then we’re gonna get married.”

“Wow! That sounds amazing!”

You let out a squeal of joy and pulled him into another hug; this time, Katsuki readily squeezed you back. He inhaled sharply again and quickly pecked you on the cheek, blushing redder than ever before.

“It’s a promise,” Katsuki mumbled. “I kissed you, so it’s a promise. So you’re not allowed to be anyone else’s girlfriend, okay?”

You felt the warmth lingering from where his lips had connected with your cheek. You smiled.

“Okay, Katsuki.”

That had been nearly 11 years ago. 11 whole years, and Katsuki still remembered it as clear as day. He felt like a moron for ever even thinking back to the time he’d spent with you; you’d moved away not long after, so it was pretty clear that he would never see you again. Besides, he’d just gotten into U.A—hell, it was supposed to be his very first day at the school of his dreams, and here he was, having some stupid nostalgia. Seriously, what a load of shit.

Katsuki moved through the halls, both hands shoved into his pockets as he sought out his homeroom class. The damn place was huge, but just as well; this was where he’d leave his mark and make his way to the very top.

His hand gripped the edge of the sliding door, and he’d managed to get it half-open before—

“Ah! Katsuki??”

Katsuki froze. Even if it had changed, he still recognized that cheerful voice; that bubbly, careless tone. It was a stupid thing to say, and he already cursed himself for even assuming, but at the very least, he could check…right?

To say that his eyes widened when they fell on your frame would have been an understatement. Surely, your appearance had changed, but just like with your voice, there was that familiarity there that called to him. As his eyes skimmed your frame, he recognized your (h/c) locks, and those gleaming, (e/c) orbs. And then…that smile. The same smile that always made his chest burn. The very same smile that was making him fuzzy right here and now.

You’d been pretty as a kid, that much he could remember. But now, he could honestly say that you were fucking beautiful. No matter how cute you may have been before, Katsuki could never have prepared himself for the way you would grow up.

He felt so stupid. So, so stupid. Because here he was, seeing you again for the first time in 11 years, and he realized he was just as in infatuated with you as he had been back then.

“Can’t believe we’re seeing each other again after all these years,” you smiled. “Kind of feels like a dream, right?”

Katsuki honestly didn’t know what to say. He was worried that with the way he was, the second he would open his mouth you would be immediately turned off by his brash manner of speaking and never look in his direction ever again. He couldn’t even form any words to begin with.

Luckily, you spoke before he could spiral even further.

“I have to say,” you giggled, “You sure grew up to be way more attractive than I ever thought you were. Now I’m seriously considering taking you up on that offer. Do you remember what we promised back then?” You smiled again, and Katsuki honestly just wanted to melt on the spot. “C’mon, you know the one—about the two of us becoming girlfriend and boyfriend. You didn’t forget, did you?”

Katsuki was still stunned, but he knew that he couldn’t keep up this silence for long.

“God, say something, for fuck’s sake. She’s gonna think you’re mute, or an even bigger asshole than you actually are. Say something, fuck.”

Even with all the self-confidence he’d accrued through the years, nothing could have prepared him for a meeting like this. Still, there was one thing he would never do, and that was to cower in front of a challenge. He just hoped that his flushed cheeks weren’t anywhere near as bad as they felt.

“Yeah, I remember,” he finally managed. “So…are we gonna give that a shot?”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #mha imagines #relationship #child bakugou #fluff

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daylighthelps · 6 years

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Find songs that would describe you in the soundtrack of your life and tag ten people you want to get to know better. Tagged by @sassy-molassy, aka my favorite person.

1. Your childhood: Best Day by Taylor Swift. ( “ I grew up in a pretty house and I had space to run and I had the best days with you. There is a video I found from back when I was three. You set up a paint set in the kitchen and you’re talking to me. It’s the age of princesses and pirate ships and seven dwarfs, and daddy’s smart and you’re the prettiest lady in the whole wide world. ” ) 2. Your love life: Make You Miss Me by Sam Hunt. ( “ You burn out like a match, keep a slip knot in the strings you attach. You think it’s easy but that’s a lie. The only reason that you’re good at goodbye is every boy you ever met was too easy to forget. ” ) 3. Your high school years: i can’t breathe by Bea Miller. ( “ Somebody get me a hammer, wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors and go back to a time that was different. A time when I didn’t feel like there was something missing. Now my body and mind are so distant, don’t know how to escape from this prison. How can I free my mind? ” ) 4. Your sexuality: Pretty Boys And Pretty Girls by Book Of Love. ( “ I close my eyes and I dream about pretty boys and pretty girls, pretty boys and pretty girls. ” ) 5. Your personality: Bitch by Meredith Brooks. ( “ I can understand how you’d be so confused, I don’t envy you. I’m a little bit of everything all rolled into one. I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother, I’m a sinner, I’m a saint. ” ) 6. Your opinion on a hot topic: Odds Are by Barenaked Ladies. ( “ So get up, get up, no it’s never gonna let up so you might as well sing along. The odds are that we will probably be alright, odds are we gonna be alright, odds are we gonna be alright. ” ) 7. Your best friend(s): Call On Me by Starley. ( “ We’ll say a little prayer but oh, oh, oh, oh, if the answer isn’t fair... you know you can call on me when you need somebody. You know you can call on me when you can’t stop the tears from falling down. ” ) 8. Your thoughts on growing up: Five More Minutes by Scotty McCreery. ( “ Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times, oh but they just keep on flying. Ride on by like it ain’t nothing, I wish I had me a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it and give myself five more minutes. ” ) 9. You on a night out: Here by Alessia Cara. ( “ I’m sorry if I seem uninterested or I’m not listenin’ or I’m indifferent, truly I ain’t got no business here but since my friends are here, I just came to kick it. But really I would rather be at home all by myself, not in this room. ” ) 10. Your flaws: Could I Be You by Matchbox Twenty. ( “ You show your pain like it really hurts and I can’t even start to feel mine. And I’m standing in place with my head first and I shake, I shake, and I see your progress stretched out for miles. ” ) 11. Your perfections: Forcefield by Jax. ( “ You won’t break me, nothing’s shaking me, you can try but I won’t fail. Indestructible, I’m invincible, standing strong like a forcefield. I am strong like a forcefield. ” ) 12. Your year: The Middle Of Starting Over by Sabrina Carpenter. ( “ Tired of all the troubles, they’ve been wasting my time. I don’t wanna fight, gonna leave it behind. Taking on faith now I’m ready to fly. I’m in the middle of starting over. ” )

I tag: I love these but I never know who to tag so if you want to do it, feel free to say I tagged you and just do it. Also, tag me so I can see your answers!!

#this took effort and was hecka fun #i recommend it wholeheartedly #i mean i'm super emotional after doing this but it was worth it #ali rambles.#tag game.

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petriichors · 7 years

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title: two’s company, three’s a crowd (but we’ll make it work) ship: suho centric, sulay, suchen & beginnings of sulaychen word count: 4.5k words warning: mentions of near death experiences (drowning), unresolved polyamory dynamics. notes: written for round 4 of 91daes, cross posted on lj & ao3. 91daes is such a precious fic fest to me and i was really happy to see that there was a round 4~ the prompt i picked up was: domestic au + ot3, baking, magic and though i tried, it came off as more soulmate au + magic and ot3. i had a pretty good start with writing this but lost the feeling halfway through which meant that i scraped a few ideas here and there and reworked through most of it once more.

it seems that I can’t write good endings and I didn’t want to rush any resolution of issues since it wouldn’t seem very realistic. Also, I’m not familiar at all with electric shocks and so what I’ve written is probably really far off from actual facts to fit better with the narrative!

this fic is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine, also I’m sorry for the weird switching in tense. shoutout to H for cheering me on even in the tougher times.

summary: Junmyeon figures that if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

“I went into the ocean without knowing how to swim, and went to you, not knowing how to love.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he falls in love.

It was the ocean that he had fallen in love with; it was the ocean that drew him in. In his defence, the first time he had gone into the waters unattended was when he was five. Old enough to know better than to break away from his parents and dash towards the ocean, young enough to not care. At age five, Junmyeon thought that he could do anything he wanted and walk away unscathed.

It’s comfortable in the beginning, with a hint of excitement as the waters reach ankle height. Waves laps gently at his exposed calves, as if asking him to ‘come closer, take another step in’. And he does, he takes that next step and the step after that, moving deeper and deeper into the deep mesmerizing blue of the ocean. The edges of his shorts get soaked with salt water but he pays it no mind, not when he was nowhere deep enough. All he knew was that the ocean was calling out to him and that he had to get closer, much closer.

Later when he wakes up to the sun shining down on him and his mother sobbing over him (“oh, thank god, thank god!”), he would realize that he remembers nothing save for wading deeper and deeper into the deep dark blue. Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a too tight embrace by his mother, taking in sweet breaths of air into his burning lungs. His father tells him much later that he had called out to him only to be ignored and left panicking when the waves swallow up his only son. The one thing he had utmost control over in the world was the one thing that almost stole his only child away from him.

There’s a story that has been told to him over and over in his mother’s soft voice as she coaxes him into falling asleep. A tale about finding love and unlocking magic, the love story of how his parents met and how his family came to be. Junmyeon never really grasped the whole concept of it all, not at the tender age of six where everything seemed to fictional.

He understood the magic which origins nobody could explain. He’s witnessed magic firsthand during bath time with his father: water streaming upwards, forming figures and shapes and tickling his sides before his father released his hold on it. He’s experienced it first hand in how his mother cushioned his falls with gusts of wind, he’s felt the weight of it when she had tried to force air back into his lungs after he had drowned. It’s easy to understand the magic since it was something he could see, something he could touch.

Love though… it wasn’t something he could comprehend as easily. Junmyeon’s both seen and experienced love, of course. He’s seen the love his parents had for each other, he’s experienced the love they had for him and him them. Even in the books he’s read, in the cartoons he’s watched, he’s seen love all around him and yet… it was still something complex, something too abstract for him to fully understand. And if he ever got frustrated about his lack of understanding or voiced out his confusion about why he couldn’t do what his parents could with the air and water around them (“I don’t understand! I found love, eomma, I love you and appa, so why don’t I have magic too?”), his mother would assure him that he would find that one love that was meant for him eventually. “And until that day comes, you’ll find other forms of love along the way.”

As he lies in bed at age six, Junmyeon wonders if love might be similar to the ocean. It was something beautiful and mysterious (and dangerous, always dangerous for those are careless. Ever ready to pull him down by the ankles and fill his lungs). And if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

The reality was this: everyone’s borne with dormant magic within him or her and the key to unlocking it was someone; a special person destined for them, a match made in heaven, a soulmate. It’s a game of luck, really, whether or not they ever get to meet. The luckier ones had soulmates who were people familiar to them, a friend, a neighbor, a schoolmate. Those with average luck are the ones who had strangers as theirs, a random face in a crowd that they get drawn to. The statistically minority, that 2% of the population with no luck at all, never had the chance to ever meet their soulmates (some so far apart from each other that finding each other was close to none. some gone before the chance ever came about).

At age sixteen, Junmyeon learns the history and technicalities behind the fairytale he grew up with (less a bedtime story now that reality bleed through) from a compulsory seminar held by his school. He learns about the social events that the government had sponsored in order to maximize the opportunity of soulmates meeting, about the registration process that comes after the meeting of his special someone. At age sixteen, Junmyeon wonders if he would have the opportunity in meeting his soulmate or if he would end up being a part of that 2% that never does. The lingering fear of never finding that one love, stemming from the tender age of six, loosens its tight hold on his airway as he clutches onto the seminar brochures and signs up for multiple mixers.

After all, some things were best left to faith and some things were better taken into one’s own hands.

When fate decides to intervene with his carefully laid out plans, he realizes how he was simply a pawn in this game of predestined matches, a piece of a puzzle being passed around until he found his place next to someone. Junmyeon realizes how powerless he really is when fate had decidedly brought him along as a witness of his date (a junior at school who had the prettiest lips, a strong love for food and a battalion of dad jokes) meeting his soulmate.

Fate: 1, Junmyeon: 0.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie.”

“So why is everyone meeting their soulmate except me?”

“You’ll find yours soon, I promise.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he meets his soulmate at age twenty. Dying might seem like a stretch of facts but in his defence, tripping down a couple of stairs after colliding with someone might really have caused death. In his case though, he suspected that the only thing the fall had caused was a possible concussion. Junmyeon groans as he opens his eyes to a face hovering near his own, the stairwell lights shining down around him like a halo.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there I–”

Junmyeon squints, “Are you an angel?”

“I–” The angel laughs. “No, no, I’m not.”

“You look like one,” he lets the non-angel help him up to his feet, wincing a little as he stands.

“An angel wouldn’t have caused an accident like this,” With an apologetic smile, the other male takes a step back from Junmyeon. “Does it hurt anywhere…?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I just hope I can say the same about my coffee though…” He trails off, eyes drawn to his plastic coffee cup lying on its side with its cover flung wide open. Where there was supposed to be a mess of dark liquid was nothing, instead the coffee stayed within its container, perpendicular to the floor.

“Hello, fine,” the other male chuckles. “I’m Yixing.”

“I–” Junmyeon looks back at him (the non-angel, his soulmate, Yixing). “I think you’re my soulmate.”

The coffee spills out of its cup.

They get registered on a Tueday. It’s the only day that Junmyeon ends his classes early enough to make it for an afternoon slot and it’s the one day Yixing could have off from his internship at the hospital.

After a long talk (for which a business law class might had been skipped for) and three dates (were they dates or casual meetings? What counted as dates? “Hmm, I think if we had a nice time together and one person pays for the entirety of the day, it’s a date.” “So are we dating?” “Maybe! In that case, would you like to go on another date with me, Junmyeon?”), here they were: casually holding hands in front of the local district hall. The registration process itself doesn’t take long (simple filling up of forms and a thumbprint seal does it) and whatever papers they come out with holds lesser significance as compared to a marriage certificate but Junmyeon still gets nervous.

“It’ll be okay,” Yixing reassures him, fingers laced between his. “I researched about it, it’s really easy!”

Junmyeon nods, offering Yixing a smile. He can’t bring himself to tell the other boy that it wasn’t the process that he was nervous about because it was the partial cause of his nervousness. He doesn’t tell him that the bulk of his worry was because of Yixing. In all honesty, he doesn’t have to because Yixing already knows. Yixing’s done the research.

Yixing doesn’t have elemental magic. In fact, Yixing doesn’t have any magic at all.

And when the forms ask for proof of their bond, Yixing has nothing to show that Junmyeon is his soulmate.

There are cases of people who were borne without magic, people like Yixing, but they are rare enough to be considered a myth. In a world were magic is an indication of a shared bond, the lack of it in someone marks a problem. It leads to the idea that someone didn’t belong in the relationship, that someone was still searching for their other half. That someone was cheating on a person they had not met.

In the eyes of the registry, a soulmate bond where one party had no magic was not recognized.

In the eyes of the registry, what Yixing and him would not count. Junmyeon knows this, Yixing knows this, they had done the research.

So when the forms asked about the nature of their magic, Yixing lies.

His relationship with Yixing is easy. His relationship with Yixing is fun.

It’s nothing as grand as what Junmyeon has seen in movies and books; it’s nothing as dramatic as the local drama series portray. It’s simple and light and free of tragedies. (Though his mother had jokingly asked if Yixing would like for her to play the role of an overbearing mother-in-law. Yixing had laughed before mentioning that he would be willing to take up the challenge if that meant that he could proof his affections for her son.)

There’s no need for them to fall head over heels in love, and they didn’t, because love doesn’t work that way. Love is like the ocean, you would have to wade into it, take one step after another until you’re surrounded by nothing but the deep blue.

So they do. They start off with a casual friendship, they start off with getting to know each other over time spent together. They meet up when time allows, they don’t when they get too busy. There’s no obligation in forcing themselves to go into something bigger, something more committed than they had.

The thing about wading into the ocean is that you won’t know how far you are from the shore until you look back. Looking back now, Junmyeon finds it difficult to pinpoint when they eased from friendship into possible romance. He can’t tell when he had realized that he didn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Yixing. He can’t pinpoint when it had become more comfortable for the two of them to press kisses on each other’s cheeks than to exchange quiet goodbyes at the end of the day. It might be love, but it might not. All he knows is that it isn’t just friendship anymore.

And if what they have right now is love, Junmyeon decides that people have been complicating the idea of love too much.

Though it doesn’t go to say that it has never crossed his mind that perhaps, his soulmate is still looking for someone that was his. Perhaps it’s him that there was a problem with, perhaps someone above had decided to make a joke out of his existence by giving him someone who he was never meant for.

The thoughts that creep up on him the late nights where he goes a week without meeting Yixing due to the hectic schedules of a intern nurse and a business major student council head. The thoughts sneak up on him as he shows off little water tricks he had picked up from his father (“Dad’s gonna teach you have to impress him. Watch closely, Junmyeon-ah.”) with Yixing pressed against his side.

When he mentions this to his soulmate, the other boy simply shakes his head.

“You’re mine as much as I am yours.”

“Eomma… do you think that Yixing and I are right…?”

“I think, if he makes you happy and if you make him happy, that’s as right as it can be.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time his soulmate meets him at age twenty-three, and he wonders if all these instances of near death served as punishment for the disregard he had about soulmates in his younger days. (He half wonders if this was punishment for having someone who wasn’t his.)

This time, he doesn’t collide into someone and fall down the stairs. This time, the possibly of death isn’t an exaggeration. It starts with the accidental brushing of fingers along the corridor, which leaves a jolt through his fingers. He brushes it off as static electricity and continues down the corridor. It ends with his legs buckling from the pain that overwhelms him from shock of electricity that surges up his arm when a hand wraps itself around his wrist. The last thing Junmyeon remembers before passing out is the look of fear and concern on a stranger’s face.

He wakes up to scratchy bed sheets and his father sitting by his bedside reading a magazine. A quick glance around reveals that yes, he’s still in the hospital and no, it’s not because he had extended his visit over Yixing’s lunch break. His arm is bandaged from wrist to shoulder and it aches. “Ow.”

His father glances up from the glossy pages at his son’s groan. “Hey there, champ.”

“Hey,” His voice is hoarse, throat dry from the lack of water. His father exchanges his magazine for the cup of water sitting on the bedside table and offers it to Junmyeon.

“Slow down, slow down,” His father shakes his head, shifting his grip on the cup. “You’re going to choke yourself.”

Pulling away from the now empty cup, he clears his throat. “What happened?”

“You got a nasty electric shock. It’s not too serious but your arm’s got the worst of it. The doctor mentioned something about burns but they should heal in time.”

“Ah,” That would explain the pain that had coursed through his arm and the bandages. “Where’s mom?”

“Your mom’s outside, talking to someone.”

“Yixing?”

“No, it’s not Yixing. He’s probably doing his rounds right now.”

His mother enters the room before he could ask whom it was that she was talking to and rushes across the room to fuss over him. (“Why didn’t you tell me he was awake?” “You were talking!” “Your father, I swear. How are you feeling, sweetie?”) Despite the ache in his arm, Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dad said you were talking to someone. Was it the doctor?”

“Oh! It wasn’t the doctor, no. Actually, there’s someone I think you should meet,” She pulls away from her son, turning to gesture for the stranger standing silently by his door to come closer. It was the face that he had seen before passing out. “Junmyeon-ah, this is Jongdae.”

“Hello,” Junmyeon steals a glance at his father who shrugs in response to his unasked question: who and why?

“Hello. I–uh, I’m sorry. About the electric shock. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s okay,” He moves to shrug, which was a bad decision on his part when a twinge of pain shoots through his upper arm. “It was an accident.”

“Ah, yeah. It was an accident, it’s just… this has never happened before.”

Junmyeon nods, confusion evident in his expression. Clearly he was missing out on something that he was supposed to have understood, there had to be a larger reason than apology for his mother to have spent time away from him to talk to Jongdae. There had to be something bigger for her to have thought that he should meet the other boy. He turns to look at her.

“Sweetie…” She takes a step forward, resting a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that you’re it. You’re his soulmate.”

“I’m not letting you go. It’s selfish, and greedy. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’ll work this out, I promise.”

“Of course! So… when do I get to meet him?”

When Junmyeon first meets Jongdae upon being discharged, he spends the first ten minutes reassuring the younger male that yes, he was fine now. That the scars would fade off over time. That there was no need to apologize for the accident. That Jongdae could sit closer if he would like since the wooden table between them was a distance enough to prevent any other possible accidents with Jongdae’s electricity. The younger male merely nods, inching his chair forward a little, before resting his hands on his lap once more.

Junmyeon spends the next thirty learning about more Jongdae. He learns that Jongdae is a year younger than him. He learns that Jongdae is a musical major and had been the lead for major school productions. He learns that Jongdae’s family consisted of mostly fire elementals, so it came as a surprise that his ended up being electricity. He learns that Jongdae has been searching for him for years, going to mixers and blind dates. He learns that Jongdae’s amused by how they had been brought together by sheer luck and his friend’s clumsiness (“Chanyeol thought it would be perfectly fine to surprise Minseok-hyung from behind but look where that got him. Frostbite sure is no joke.”) which was the reason behind Jongdae being at the hospital in the first place.

The last thirty minutes goes to Junmyeon telling Jongdae about himself. About how he was in his final year as a business major and that he was looking at a couple of corporations to apply to. He tells Jongdae about his water-wind parents and how it didn’t come as a surprise that he ended up as a water elemental (much to the pride of his father) and tells him about how he learnt to control his control over water under the guidance of his father. He talks about how he met his soulmate, laughing about how the important meetings of his life always ended up being accidents.

Things get a little shakey when Junmyeon talks about Yixing and the years they had together because as much as Yixing was his, he was Jongdae’s. He falters when Jongdae offers him an apology, this time for being an intruder into something that Junmyeon already that. He thanks the younger male but tells him that there was no need for apologies. They fall silent.

Things like these were out of their control, matches made in heaven, a pre-destined partnership. What was meant to would come to be, and if that meant that the three of them were to end up with this complication, then here they would be. There was no use thinking about what if’s at this point of time, not when nothing would change. Perhaps if fate hadn’t play its part, Junmyeon would have never met Yixing and ended up only meeting Jongdae instead. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Junmyeon had Yixing. Jongdae had him. This was what they had.

When Junmyeon asks if Jongdae would like to meet Yixing, Jongdae accepts.

Yixing meets them at the hospital cafeteria over his lunch break, the only time he could really spare over the week due to it being flu season. (“Sickness waits for no one,” he shrugs as he stabs a straw into his juice box. “If it did, I might be out of a job.”)

Things go better than expected, not that Junmyeon has very good expectations of three way meetings between supposed conflicted relationships, thanks to the local drama scene. There’s no screaming, no passive-agressiveness, no throwing of water into each other’s faces. All in all, Junmyeon thinks it’s a win. Jongdae’s still quiet and nervous, hesitant with his answers as though afraid to offend anyone, while Yixing talks enough for the both of them cheerfully in between bites of his bulgogi set.

He listens to the younger male diligently as Jongdae shares his story to Yixing, asking questions and nodding along. In exchange, Yixing tells Jongdae about his family back in Changsha, pouts a little when he mentions how seldom he gets to visit now that he’s a full fledged nurse. He talks about his work in the hospital and the people he’s met in his time here. He tells Jongdae about how he had tripped Junmyeon down the stairs on their first meeting. Tells Jongdae about Junmyeon’s parents, about Junmyeon’s embarrassing stories (“You should see his face on the rollercoaster, it’s the funniest thing ever.”) and about the really bad jokes Junmyeon has shared over the years.

When the end of his lunch break draws near, Yixing ushers his boyfriend away. “I want to talk to Jongdae alone. Go to the bathroom or something.”

“What?”

“I want to talk to Jongdae. Alone. Without you. We have secrets to spill. Buy me some chips, please!”

Grumbling, Junmyeon gives in to the Yixing’s request. “Alright, alright.”

Waving his boyfriend away, the nurse lets out a chuckle before turning back to face the younger male. Jongdae fidgets, uncomfortable with the fact that it was just the two of them now. This was it, this was how he was going to be threatened and chased away.

“Here! These should be helpful,” he pulls out a pair of latex gloves and presents them to Jongdae. At the younger male’s confusion, Yixing smiles. “You won’t shock us if you have these on, I promise. We’ll find something better later, these are all I have now.”

Jongdae nods, staring at the pair of gloves that Yixing drops into his hands. “I– thank you.”

“Also, if you have any questions about Junmyeon, don’t hestitate to ask me, alright? I’ll help you out. We’ll work it out.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae hestitates once more, glancing up at the older male. “But why are you helping me? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to… leave…?”

“Why would you leave?”

“Because I’m intruding, I don’t–”

“He’s yours as much as I’m his, Jongdae-ssi,” Yixing interrupts. “There’s nobody else I would be willing to share with him but the person for whom he was meant for. We’ll make this work.”

When Junmyeon returns with a pack of chips in hand, he’s greeted with the sight of Jongdae’s gloved hands in Yixing’s. Yixing shoots him a grin, passing Jongdae’s hand over to Junmyeon as he grabs hold of the chips. “I’ll see the both of you soon!”

They could make this work.

They get registered on a Tuesday. It’s the only day Yixing could wrangle a lunch break to meet them at the local district hall. After three long talks across two weeks between the three of them, Junmyeon had given in to the insistence of Yixing wanting to be there for the registration despite him not needing to. There were better uses for his hour-long lunch break, Junmyeon argues, he could grab a proper meal and get some actual sleep but Yixing waves it off. (“I’ll be there, wait for me, okay?”)

And so they do, they wait outside the distract office. Jongdae and him don’t hold hands, not because they can’t but because Jongdae doesn’t want to even though he has his leather gloves on. (“I can’t risk hurting you.” “You won’t, you’re wearing your gloves.” “I’m still not risking it.”) It’s a quiet wait in the late autumn afternoon once they had run out of topics to talk about before the final person of their trio arrived. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it’s something that they’ve gotten used to after all the times they’ve settled into the lack of conversation whenever they were left alone for extended periods of time without having Yixing or Junmyeon’s parents around.

The sound of running marks the arrival of Yixing who waved cheerfully at the pair as he made his way towards them. “Sorry, sorry! I missed the bus down. Did you wait?”

“Of course, we did!” Jongdae chuckles when Yixing reaches out to him, lacing their fingers together.

“You told us to, remember?” Junmyeon adds, shaking his head in amusement when Yixing’s hand had wrapped around his wrist.

“Go! I’ll be here when you’re done,” Yixing pulls the both of them towards the building, offering them two thumbs up when they turned back to glance at him. “Now, it’s my turn to wait.”

It’s tough being in a relationship with a person, let alone two. Despite being the one who was the link in their relationship, Junmyeon was more often than not the first one to flounder when it came to establishing dynamics. The whole is more than the sum of its parts and this was was more than trying to fit someone new into something that Yixing and him had shared for years.

It didn’t help that Jongdae wasn’t able to get over the guilt of having hurt Junmyeon once before. It didn’t help that Jongdae had decided to keep his distance when they had first met as a trio out of fear that he would hurt either of them during their time together. It didn’t help that he refused to touch either of them even after they had managed to close the distance between them.

What helped was the balance that Yixing had brought back to the disbalance that was created when Jongdae came into the picture. What helped was the patience that Yixing had when it came to dealing with both Junmyeon’s frustrations and Jongdae’s worries. What helped was Yixing’s suggestion of getting Jongdae a pair of leather gloves instead of the disposable latex ones so that he could have the opportunity to reach out for them whenever he wanted to. What helped was the fact that Yixing had more than enough love to share amongst the three of them.

They weren’t perfect in any sense of the word, no. But perhaps, one day, they would get there.

#suchen #sulay #exowriternet #exo fic #exo fanfiction #suho #lay #chen #fic fic baby #exo #my writing #this is the longest thing i've ever written omg

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