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sankyeom · 4 years

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tattle-tale | l.sy

pairings: lee sangyeon x reader genre: teacher au, tooth-rotting fluff summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class word count: 5.9k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

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You loved your job, you really did.

Teaching little kids all day long was an absolute joy for you. But if you said recess wasn’t your favourite time of the day, you’d definitely be lying. “Finally,” you groaned as you took a seat on a sofa in the teacher’s lounge, a large cup of coffee in your hand as you closed your eyes.

Sangyeon, Jacob and Hyunjae – three teachers at your school that you considered close friends – shared knowing smiles. “Rough morning?” Jacob asked.

“I love my students,” you said, eyes still closed. “But they can be little devils sometimes.”

Hyunjae burst into laughter as Jacob and Sangyeon grinned. “They can’t be that bad?”

You opened your eyes to observe your colleagues. “It’s Emma’s birthday today. She brought cake for the entire class, and they ate the entire thing within the first ten minutes of first period,” you recalled in a monotone voice.

Jacob winced. “Sugar rush?” he guessed.

“You have no idea,” you complained, having flashbacks to your students running around the classroom and causing absolute chaos. “I would literally kill for some coffee. Or at least maim.”

Hyunjae pointed at your mug. “What do you call that?” he teased.

“Terrible teacher lounge coffee that hasn’t been warm for, like, an hour,” you observed as you took a sip of your coffee. Then, you winced and pushed the mug away from you. “I may be desperate for a good caffeine fix, but I’m not that desperate,” you mumbled as you got up to toss the contents of your mug down the sink.

Sangyeon’s eyes trailed after your retreating figure, a mindless smile on his face as he observed the way you glared at your, now empty, mug in disgust as if it had betrayed you. His gaze drew towards Jacob when his colleague cleared his throat, a knowing look in his and Hyunjae’s eyes as Sangyeon gave them an innocent smile. “Are you ever going to ask her out?” Jacob asked with a lowered voice.

Although he knew he had been caught, Sangyeon still made his attempt at playing innocent. “Ask who out?”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend. You’re a really bad liar and you’re just way too obviously in love with Teacher Y/n,” he said, imitating your students when they call out to you.

Despite his best efforts, Sangyeon couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. As he opened his mouth to protest, you took your seat on the sofa opposite the trio, muttering to yourself about terrible coffee. Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you raised an eyebrow at your colleagues. “Did something happen while I was gone?” you wondered.

“No,” the three men chorused, which only made you more suspicious of them. With a shrug, you dismissed their odd behaviour, deciding that it was best not to pursue your curiosity. “So Y/n, did you ever find out who your secret admirer is?” Hyunjae wondered.

A small pout appeared on your lips. “No,” you sighed, clasping your hands together to rest on your knees.

For a few months now, you had been receiving little gifts on your desk when you stepped out of your classroom for your breaks or free periods. At first, they were just little things that lifted your mood in the middle of the day; sticky notes with funny faces and encouraging quotes, or small gummy and snack packets to give you energy at the end of your long day.

Then, the gifts started becoming a little more personal.

A gift certificate to your favourite coffee chain, packs of stickers or staples that you just so happened to be running out of, muffins from your favourite bakery, and even a beautiful leather-bound journal that you had mentioned you wanted to a few friends and coworkers.

You didn’t know who the gifts were from, but you desperately wanted to meet them.

Not only did they brighten your day every single time you got a new gift, but they seemed to be presents that were specifically purchased for you.

“Has anybody else been getting gifts?” you inquired.

“Not as far as I know,” Jacob denied, Hyunjae and Sangyeon humming in agreement. “Besides, aren’t the gifts all perfect for you?”

You nodded. “Most of them are things that I vaguely mentioned, or silently pined after. Sometimes they’re just little pick-me-ups like snacks, but they still seem to know my taste perfectly.”

Jacob smiled. “That’s kind of romantic,” he mused, causing Sangyeon to choke on the water he had been sipping. He coughed, leaning forward to place his mug down, and covered his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. You, Hyunjae and Jacob gave him looks of concern, which he immediately waved off.

“I’m good,” Sangyeon assured the three of you. “You-“ he coughed. “You think it’s romantic?”

“Of course!” Jacob said cheerily. “Gifts that fit her taste without ever revealing who sent them… A secret admirer. Super romantic,” he assured his friend, sending him a subtle wink when you weren’t looking.

“I just wish I could repay them somehow,” you sighed. “I feel like they make my days easier and I don’t even have a way to thank them.”

“I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves with time,” Hyunjae told you, probably in an attempt to cheer you up. “Maybe they’re just a little shy.”

“Maybe,” you echoed half-heartedly. The bell rung, indicating that recess was over and class would start again in five minutes.

“Coming?” Sangyeon asked, standing up to walk you to your classroom. Your classrooms were in the same corridor, even though Sangyeon taught fourth grade and you taught second.

You shook your head. “My kids have Gym right now, so I have a free,” you said. “I have some grading to do, so I’m just going to hang out here.”

“Not going to hunt for a better cup of coffee?” Sangyeon teased, copying the horrified face you made when you took a sip of the cold teacher’s lounge coffee.

With a laugh, you merely shook your head. “I’m too lazy to leave campus. Plus, I should probably cut down on my caffeine consumption anyway.”

“Right,” Hyunjae nodded. “I’ll remind you of that in three hours when it’s lunchtime and you’re completely worn-out from your seven-year-old students,” he said, saluting you in lieu of a goodbye. You waved to him, Jacob and Sangyeon as they left the lounge, taking out your bag to get to grading your students’ tests.

Since they were only second graders, the grading wasn’t exactly difficult, just time-consuming. By the time the bell rang to indicate Gym class had ended, you had just finished all of their maths tests. After stretching, you made your way over to your classroom so that you could be there before your students changed after Gym class.

Entering your classroom, you could already feel a bit of fatigue kicking in, and you cursed yourself for not getting a cup of coffee after all. Before you could wallow in your regret any further, you noticed the paper take-away cup on your desk. The bright blue sticky note on the cup instantly brought a smile to your face.

Don’t let the little devils wear you down too much. x

You picked the cup up, delighted that the coffee was still warm to the touch and relishing in the taste as you took a sip. “Secret admirer, you must be from heaven,” you muttered, grateful that your secret admirer had gone out of their way to make sure you were properly caffeinated.

“Teacher Y/n!” someone shouted, barreling into your classroom. Several students trailed behind, giving you similar greetings coupled with large beams.

“How was Gym?” you asked, putting your coffee down and listening to your students’ excited stories about who won the dodgeball game that day. “Well while you guys were having fun, I was working very hard to grade your math tests! Do you want to see how you did?”

Their cheers were enough for you to burst into laughter as you took their papers out of your test. “Teacher Y/n,” one of your students, Minho, raised his hand with big eyes.

The sight was absolutely adorable. “Yes, Minho?” you smiled.

“What did your secret Santa give you today?” he asked.

“Secret Santa is for Christmas time,” you corrected. “The person leaving me presents is just a nice friend,” you explained.

“Okay,” Minho nodded, eagerly absorbing your words. “What did your nice friend give you?”

“Something warm to drink,” you explained, pointing in the direction of your take-away cup before handing the seven-year-old his test back. “The teacher’s lounge has coffee but the coffee from my friend is from my favourite store.”

“Do we know your friend?” Sana, a little girl who always wore pigtails and a huge smile, asked.

“I think so,” you mused. “They work here at school.”

“Who is it?” she wondered. “Is it your boyfriend?”

You laughed. “It’s not my boyfriend,” you assured Sana. “I actually don’t know who it is yet. It’s a mystery.”

“Like Sherlock Holmes,” Minho piped up.

“Yes, like Sherlock Holmes,” you agreed.

“We can try and solve the mystery together, then!” the boy decided. “We just need to look at the clues.”

“Alright,” you allowed, having finished handing out the tests. “We can do that after we go over this test. Does anybody have any questions on the test that they didn’t understand?”

“That’s adorable,” Hyunjae laughed as you told him, Sangyeon, and Jacob about your students’ interest in your secret admirer. The four of you were sat outside at one of the picnic tables to enjoy the last few days of sunshine that autumn had to offer you. “Did they come up with anything?”

“They actually did,” you admitted. Sangyeon’s back straightened abruptly, curious about what your students figured out. “They decided that it’s definitely a teacher.”

“Really?” Sangyeon exclaimed, earning a weird look from Jacob and Hyunjae. “What makes them think that?”

“Well, I always get a little post-it note with all of my gifts,” you explained with a laugh. “And who uses post-it notes?”

“Teachers,” your three colleagues chorused.

“That’s pretty decent detective work,” Jacob complimented.

“My class certainly liked to think so,” you allowed, amused. “Anyway, my theory is that the admirer really is a teacher,” you added. “I doubt anyone other than other teachers have heard me talk about my favourite cafe, or which of my stationary is running low. I only ever talk about those kind of things in the teacher’s lounge or when I’m on lunch duty.”

“Sherlock Holmes indeed,” Hyunjae grinned, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “Any theories on who it is?”

You sighed, shoulder drooping. “None at all,” you confessed. “Makes me feel kind of pathetic.”

“Hey, you’re not pathetic,” Jacob denied, putting his hand on your shoulder. “A little slow? Maybe. But certainly not pathetic,” you laughed, pleased at Jacob’s attempt to make you feel better.

“Teacher Y/n!” you heard Sana’s familiar voice as she ran up to you from the playground, her best friend Emma trailing after her.

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “Are you enjoying your lunch?” the two girls nodded.

“Emma, it’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Sangyeon recalled from your rant at recess. The girl’s eyes lit up at his question, prompting her to nod her head excitedly.

“I’m turning eight,” she told him proudly.

Sangyeon beamed at her excitement, a fond look in his eyes. “Well I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Emma. You’ll have to tell me what presents you get when you come to school tomorrow,” he asked, which she immediately agreed to.

“I will, Teacher Sangyeon!” she promised.

Suddenly impatient, Sana crossed her arms. “Teacher Y/n, is Teacher Jacob your nice friend?” she wondered, pointing to where Jacob sat across from you.

“He’s a nice teacher friend, but he’s not the one who’s leaving me gifts,” you explained to the two girls. “Why do you ask?”

“We saw him touch your shoulder,” Sana explained. “We thought that meant he was your nice friend.”

“Sadly, you have the wrong guy,” Jacob said with a shrug. “But I’m going to try to help Teacher Y/n to find out who her nice teacher friend is. You guys already did a great job at helping her,” he added. Sana and Emma looked proud at the thought before they said their goodbyes, rushing off to grab the vacant swings before anybody else did.

“They’re so cute,” Hyunjae almost whined. “Why did I decide to teach sixth grade? Those kids aren’t cute anymore, they’re just savage.”

You grinned at the idea of Hyunjae being lightheartedly bullied by his twelve-year-old students. “You adore those kids, don’t lie to me,” you retorted. “And they’re still plenty cute.”

“They’re not that cute in sixth grade,” he denied, pointing in the direction Emma and Sana went. “And they don’t look at me with big, adorable eyes, or cling on to every word I say.”

“That’s just Y/n,” Sangyeon told them, smiling to himself as he dug into lunch. “My students are just two years older, and they don’t do any of those things to me.”

“You’re being modest,” you argued. “Emma looked at you like you told her she was the most special girl in the world when you remembered her birthday.”

“Maybe because it’s her birthday,” Sangyeon allowed, looking up from his food to smile at you. “But they look at you like that every single day. And it’s not just your students, either.”

His compliment made you blush.

The gifts started coming on a daily basis after the day you got a cup of coffee.

Almost every time you had a free period, a fresh cup of coffee would wait for you when you returned to your classroom, and sometimes baked treats from your favourite bakery would accompany it.

You tried staying in your classroom to see who your gift fairy was, but on days you stayed your admirer never came. It was almost as if they knew every move you were making; like they had heard it before or could somehow read your mind.

“Is one of you giving out my plans?” you questioned your colleagues one day.

Hyunjae simply raised an eyebrow at you. “Explain.”

So you did: “I feel like my secret admirer is always a step ahead of me,” you mumbled. “If I ever wait for them, they don’t show up, and if I send students ahead to wait in the classroom, they still don’t show up. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Maybe it’s one of us,” Jacob said, causing Sangyeon to send a small kick to his ankle as a warning. Hyunjae snorted, covering it up by pretending to cough. “Have you ever considered that?”

“I hadn’t, actually,” you realised absent-mindedly. “But if it was one of you guys then you’d just tell me.”

“Sure,” Hyunjae nodded. “Eventually.”

“Right,” you said, as if this was enough evidence to suggest it couldn’t be Hyunjae, Jacob, or Sangyeon. “So I’m back to square one.”

The bell rang, indicating the end of recess, and you stood up to go back to your classroom. “I love art class,” you sighed as you waved your goodbyes to Hyunjae and Jacob, and made your way to your classroom with Sangyeon. “It’s the only time they get to be rowdy and excited and I don’t have to make them calm down.”

Sangyeon laughed. “Sounds nice,” he agreed.

“What do you have next?” you asked.

“I’m free, actually,” Sangyeon said. “I always have a free after recess.”

“How come you’re always rushing off, then?” you wondered, since he had never sat with you in the teacher’s lounge during recess.

“I use it as my lesson-planning time, which I prefer to do in my classroom because I’m always forgetting little things that I need,” he admitted.

“Well you should hang out with me in the lounge some time,” you offered. “It has terrible coffee but I hear I’m pretty good company,” you joke, stopping at your classroom.

“I might take you up on that,” Sangyeon grinned, winking at you before he made his way to his classroom a few doors down.

You cursed yourself for feeling shy at his wink. Sure, Sangyeon was incredibly handsome. But you had enough to worry about with your secret admirer; you didn’t need a schoolgirl crush on one of your closest colleagues to top it all off.

You sighed. “Control yourself, Y/n,” you muttered to yourself, entering your classroom and starting to hand out the worksheets for the period.

You regretted ever saying that you loved art class.

After a sugar-filled recess, your class was more hyper than you had ever seen them and there was nothing that could be done to stop them. You had attempted multiple times to get them to listen to music or talk quietly, even going as far as to threaten them with staying on after lunch time to make up for the time lost during art class. You were about to lose your patience out of pure irritation and frustration when a knock sounded on the door of your classroom.

Sangyeon’s head popped in, a look of mild concern on his face. “Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to curb your oncoming headache. “They won’t calm down. I’ve tried literally everything I can think of.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked, earning an enthusiastic nod and a grateful smile from you. Sangyeon let himself in and stood at the front of the room. “Hi everyone!” he greeted loudly, causing your students to start to quiet down at the sight of a new face. “Thanks for waiting to start art class until I came,” he smiled, as if he was supposed to be there all along. “I’m Teacher Sangyeon from the fourth grade class down the hall.”

“He teaches big kids,” you heard Emma whisper to her desk mate. Cute.

“Teacher Y/n was just telling me how advanced and mature her second graders are. She even thought that I could come and teach them a little bit of fourth grade art since you’re all so far ahead,” Sangyeon complimented.

Gasps rang around the room, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him in that moment. “But you guys were pretty noisy when I came in. I’m not sure if you guys are really mature enough,” he trailed off, a look of concern on his face.

“We are!” Sana exclaimed, shushing her classmates with a stern expression. “We promise we are!”

“Well...” Sangyeon pretended to think for a moment. “If you guys can promise to be calm and good listeners, maybe I can still teach you like I teach fourth grade art. But only if you’re well behaved.”

In that moment, you were almost as entranced by Sangyeon as your students were.

Sangyeon took their silence as a promise and made his way over to your whiteboard, writing down his name and a few bullet points down. Then, he began to talk about being in the fourth grade and how different things would be from the second grade. He spoke with an air of confidence and kindness that made you realise why he became a teacher, and why all of his students loved him so much.

He was patient and informative without being condescending, and he took any questions and comments happily at any given moment. Sangyeon was definitely in his element, and it made him glow with relaxed joy.

You had always thought Sangyeon was attractive, but this was on a different level. He commanded the attention of all of your students and the way he just swooped in, giving up his entire free period to help you, made your heart swell with something akin to admiration. Sangyeon had your students giggling at his cheesy comments, and you found yourself smiling along with them, just as enchanted by him as your students were.

When he was done teaching, your students looked at him in awe and their eyes were dripping with respect and admiration. He dismissed them to lunch with your approval, and you practically leapt onto him when all your students left.

“Woah, what did I do to deserve that?” he wondered, wrapping his arms around you to return your hug nonetheless.

“Saved my class, and myself from a migraine,” you replied, sighing in relief. “Thank you, Sangyeon. Really. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” you acknowledged, squeezing your eyes shut to relish in the hug. Sangyeon tightened his grip on you and sighed back, butterflies fluttering around his stomach.

Maybe he should just tell you that he’s your secret admirer, he considered.

“Of course, Y/n. You know that I’m always here if you need anything,” he said instead, pulling away from your hug to offer you a genuine smile. He wasn’t ready yet.

“I do,” you agreed with a nod. “And I can help you out anytime as well. Thank you. Let me buy you coffee or something as a proper thank you,” you offered, grabbing your bag without letting him reply.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with caffeine as you are,” Sangyeon retorted, gently nudging you with his hip to tease you.

“Hey, until they start selling it in an IV bag, I’m going to have to get my caffeine the old fashion way. C’mon, coffee shop three blocks away. My treat,” you smiled hopefully, holding up your wallet to jokingly entice him.

Sangyeon broke out into a large smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons. “I would love that,” he agreed, starting to erase his notes on the whiteboard as you clapped.

You watched him. “Your handwriting is beautiful,” you complimented, seeing the letters disappear. “I feel like I’ve seen it before,” you thought aloud, wondering why it looked so familiar.

“Really?” Sangyeon said, eyes wide as he sped up his process of erasing his lettering. “Probably in the yearbook or something.”

“Probably,” you dismissed the thought with a smile. “Now let’s go get our coffee on.”

After Sangyeon saved your art class, and your head from a brutal migraine, he started spending more time with you during your mutual free periods. Usually, you sat in silence in the teacher’s lounge as you did any grading or class prep that needed to be done, but with Sangyeon’s presence, your free periods were much more colourful and laidback.

Sangyeon had a lighthearted way about him; everything he said was assuring kind, and didn’t fail to make your heart flutter. Usually, you only ever spent time with Sangyeon when Jacob and Hyunjae were around, but being alone with Sangyeon was a different situation entirely. You had always known he was handsome and considerate, but he exuded a different kind of energy when he wasn’t surrounded by your friends.

As he sat next to you at one of the tables in the teacher’s lounge before the school day started, you couldn’t help but admire his profile; he was practically flawless. He had a long, slender nose and high cheekbones that made Sangyeon look more angular than soft. His deep brown eyes and pillow-soft lips-

“Y/n?” you snapped out of your trail of thoughts, realising that you had been blatantly staring at your coworker. Sangyeon gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” you promised, clearing your throat and adjusting your shirt to give your hands something to do. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The bell chimed, indicating that the school day would begin soon. You and Sangyeon stood up from your chairs and started collecting your papers. “I was just saying that I can’t stay with you during my free, I have some errands to run,” he explained, giving you a wave before he ran off to grab something from his car before class started.

You rose an eyebrow. “I don’t have a free today,” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your classroom to start your first period class.

Sangyeon grinned, lifting the flower bouquet in his hand to smell the fragrant flowers once more, relishing in their sweet scent. You had told him about a little flower shop nearby that you noticed the other day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy yourself flowers because it felt a little embarrassing. Since you had a free today, Sangyeon figured it would be the perfect time to buy you some flowers and give them to you.

Anonymously, of course.

As Sangyeon snuck past the teacher’s lounge, he saw your bag on one of the chairs and quickened his steps so that you wouldn’t spot him as he made his way to your classroom. Checking the hallway, Sangyeon entered your classroom as quietly as he could as to not alert any other classes of his presence.

As carefully as he could, Sangyeon closed the door behind him and let out a relieved sigh when it silently shut. Smiling, he turned around to put the flowers on your desk.

Only to be met with the little faces of your entire class.

Sangyeon’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening simultaneously as he realised the situation.

“Teacher Sangyeon,” Emma exclaimed, waving excitedly at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, hi class,” Sangyeon greeted awkwardly, making his way towards your desk. “I’m just leaving Teacher Y/n a little surprise, that’s all.”

Minho gasped. “You’re her nice friend that’s leaving her presents!” he realised, pointing his little finger at Sangyeon.

Knowing he was caught, Sangyeon nodded, hurriedly pulling a blue post-it note from his shirt pocket and writing you a little message to go with your flowers. “Yes, I am. But I would really like it if you guys could keep it a secret between us?” he pleaded. “Since I know you guys are so mature and clever.”

He knew that appealing to seven-year-olds’ will to be grown up was a low blow, but he didn’t have much time before you would return to your class.

“Of course,” Sana nodded her head. “We’ll keep your secret. Teacher Y/n is looking for her bag, she’ll be back any minute now!”

Sangyeon thanked her for her warning, giving your students a little wave before he darted out of the classroom and rushed to his own.

That was close. And he was probably screwed.

“Okay class, thank you so much for being patient,” you exclaimed, entering your classroom with your bag. “I’m sorry I left you guys to grab my bag but I’m so proud of you all being so mature and understanding,” you buttered up your students, feeling guilty for running around school like a mad person trying to find your bag.

“Teacher Y/n!” Minho raised his hand as far in the air as he could. “We know who your nice friend is!”

You froze in place from where you were writing on the whiteboard, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “You do?” you echoed.

“Hey,” Sana cried out. “We’re not supposed to tell!”

That’s interesting. You knew that if whoever your secret admirer was had convinced your class to keep their identity a secret, it meant that your class trusted and respected them.

“I don’t care,” Minho retorted, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be Sherlock Holmes and help Teacher Y/n, remember?”

You smiled; those kids were truly too cute.

“Oh,” Sana seemed to be struggling with making up her mind. “Well, I suppose you’re right. We did promise Teacher Y/n first.”

“Was my nice friend here?” you asked, spotting the bouquet of flowers on your desk, accompanied by the usual blue post-it note you received with all your gifts.

“He was,” Minho nodded. “Teacher Sangyeon came while we were waiting for you and he brought your flowers.”

Something fluttered in your stomach, excitement at the revelation of your secret admirer making your heart pound just slightly faster. “He did?” you said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“And he wrote you a note with a blue post-it!” Emma added. “We were right! Your nice friend is a teacher.”

You smiled, picturing Sangyeon trying to convince your students to keep his secret. He must have snuck in because he thought I had a free period, you realised. “Well, you guys are very good detectives,” you complimented. “Just like Sherlock Holmes.”

When you dismissed your students for lunch, you couldn’t help but sit at your desk as they all filed out to admire the flowers. It was a beautiful mixture of white roses, pink peonies, and beautiful green and purple wildflowers. The post-it note must have been more rushed than usual, because it had a simple message that said he hoped you liked the flowers instead of their usual buttery, warm message of encouragement.

No wonder Sangyeon’s handwriting looked so familiar, you thought as you traced the letters on the post-it note with your pointer finger. The loops of his lettering perfectly replicated those that were written on the whiteboard when he helped you with your art class a few weeks ago.

After assigning your students their work for the last class, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to Sangyeon, and how you should confront him about being your secret admirer. Making up your mind, you got up from your chair and plucked the flowers and post-it note from your desk before exiting your classroom and walking down the hall.

Knocking on the door of Sangyeon’s classroom, you waited patiently for him to greet you at the door. “Y/n,” his eyes lit up when he recognised that it was you. “Come in, you don’t need to knock,” Sangyeon ushered you in, opening to door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, stepping inside. “So, I got another gift from my admirer,” you told him, holding up the flowers. “If I can even call them an admirer.”

“Why shouldn’t they admire you,” Sangyeon said with a small shrug, moving to wipe his whiteboard.

“Say,” you began, holding up the post-it note. “This looks a lot like your handwriting.”

Sangyeon dropped the whiteboard eraser with a loud clatter, cursing quietly before apologising for the noise and going to pick it up. “Oh, um, really?” he wondered, panic rising in his chest.

“Really,” you confirmed, making your way next to him and holding up the post-it for you both to compare to the white board. “See? Your lettering is super similar,” you said, as if you didn’t already know that Sangyeon was your secret admirer.

“Huh,” Sangyeon hummed. “Weird.”

“Isn’t it?” you agreed, smiling. “These flowers are beautiful though, aren’t they?”

Feeling nervous, Sangyeon only gave you a weak smile. “As long as you think so…”

“They’re from that little flower shop I was telling you about the other day,” you told him, recognising the name of the shop on the ribbon that held the bouquet together. “Isn’t that ironic? That they got the flowers from there.”

“Well it’s only a few blocks away so I’m sure other people know about it,” Sangyeon retorted, pretending to go through the papers on his desk to act as if his heart wasn’t beating at the sound of a tuba.

“I also got coffee from my favourite cafe, pastries from my favourite bakery, and any piece of stationary that I complained to you about being low on,” you listed off the different gifts you had received.

Sangyeon opened his mouth to retort, but when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, he knew immediately that he had been caught. “You know, don’t you?” Sangyeon mumbled, red flushing the tips of his cheeks and ears.

“Minho ratted you out,” you confessed, not wanting to take credit for figuring it out.

Sangyeon laughed. “Tattle-tale,” he muttered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you were just having fun, teasing me as if you were figuring it all out right in front of me?”

“Hey,” you exclaimed. “I figured the handwriting thing out on my own.”

“Really?”

“No. I just connected the dots after Minho told on you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. Sangyeon chuckled, picturing your class telling on him as you lean back against his desk. “I’m glad it’s you,” you revealed, making Sangyeon smile shyly at you.

“How come?” he wondered.

“Well, you’re pretty cute,” you teased, earning an eye-roll from Sangyeon. “And you’re just… I don’t know. You’re really special. The way you interact with your students and how you never fail to give up your free time to help me, or keep me company…” you trailed off, noticing how a more serious expression fell across Sangyeon’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me that it’s you?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted it to be me,” Sangyeon said, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. “You’re one of the most loved teachers at this school, by the students and the faculty. You’re funny, and kind, and beautiful, and I thought you were out of reach.”

“I’m not out of reach,” you shook your head, moving closer to the brunet man. “Not at all.”

“And you’re really happy that it’s me?” he wondered.

“Hm,” you pretended to think. “Let me get back to you on that one,” you teased. “Yes Sangyeon, I’m really happy that it’s you.” Sangyeon beamed, pleased with your response. “That’s your cue.”

“My cue?” he asked.

“Yes, your cue,” you emphasised, trailing your hands up his chest to play with his tie. An understanding look filled his eyes and Sangyeon leant down to kiss you, closing his eyes as you felt each other’s breath against your faces.

The door to Sangyeon’s classroom opened noisily.

“Yo, we were just-“ Hyunjae’s shriek cut off Jacob’s words as the pair realised the position that you and Sangyeon were in.

“Guys, you can’t do that during school hours!” Hyunjae exclaimed, looking scandalised. “Jacob, I’ll cover your eyes and you cover mine,” he said dramatically, causing the two of them to flail about in an attempt to cover each other’s eyes with their hands.

You rolled your eyes, releasing Sangyeon’s tie and leaning back with a sigh. Sangyeon gave you a sheepish smile but cast your friends an exasperated look. “You guys are lame,” you accused.

Jacob laughed, releasing Hyunjae. “So you finally figured it out?”

“I wish. Some little tattle-tales told me all about it after catching him,” you motion to Sangyeon.

Hyunjae cackled. “Genius. C’mon, let’s get lunch. I’m starving,” he moved on quickly, uninterested in your new relationship with Sangyeon. “No kissing on school grounds, either. Let’s go,” he cheered, marching out with Jacob in tow.

You laughed, always amused by your coworkers and friends. “Let’s get lunch,” you agreed with Hyunjae, sending Sangyeon a smile.

As you moved away, Sangyeon caught your arm and gently pulled you back. “School hours are over in two periods,” he reminded you with a cheeky smile.

“Dinner?” you offered, earning a nod.

“I’d be crazy not to go,” Sangyeon exaggerated. “You’re paying, though. I’ve bought you enough food and drinks to last at least a few dinner dates,” he winked.

Laughing, you nodded, pulling him out of his classroom by his hand. “It’s a deal.”

note: the first fic in my 2k followers celebration event is up!! i’m so excited to see what you guys think about it, please let me know and thank you again for 2,000 followers 💛🌻

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #sangyeon #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #lee sangyeon #the boyz fic #the boyz fluff #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #fic: tattle-tale #2k celebration

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Note

Hey I love your work and Idk if your taking requests but if you are could you do a oneshot where Harry and y/n have planned to have the perfect birth plan but then coronavirus happens and they have to have the baby in their own home. Stay safe - anon ❤️❤️

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Didn’t mean for this one to be so long and I most definitely hate the end, but here she is! Take care and TPWK.

Harry’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning when he felt his girlfriend’s phone vibrating against the cool, granite countertop where they were currently eating breakfast in their vacation home in California. What started out as a last-minute getaway to soak up the remaining time they had before they would welcome their first little bub into the world turned into a rather long stint, as a pandemic had quickly swept the world off its feet and ceased all travel. They were stuck, everyone was stuck, and Y/N was eight months pregnant.

The phone call they’d been waiting on, the one happening right now that was causing Harry to nervously bounce his foot against the metal support beam on his chair, would determine whether or not it was safe for the two of them to return to London so Y/N could give birth alongside Harry and her regular doctor. They’d been stuck inside for so long that they’ve had time to talk about literally everything -- about reupholstering the chairs in the living room, about their childhood friends and secrets they kept for them, about if pineapple belonged on pizza and if chips and salsa is considered a meal. Harry and Y/N talked about a lot, but what they hadn’t discussed, was the possibility of giving birth to their son thousands of miles away from their families and the doctors they were most comfortable with. It was always understood between both of them that in spite of the state of the world, things would always work out for them; they’d get approved for travel and be home in England before her due date. They’d have the most perfect baby boy in the most perfect way imaginable.

They were right, but only about the first part.

He watched her fumble with the gemstone ring that adorned her middle finger as she answered the phone call with her other hand. The stone matched the birth-month of their unborn son. Harry had gotten it for her that Christmas and she hadn’t taken it off since. She anxiously chewed on the skin of her bottom lip, still quite swollen from sleep. Harry’s heartbeat sounded like it was hurling towards his eardrums at a rapid pace, soon becoming all he could make sense of due to how important this phone call was.

Y/N wouldn’t have to repeat to Harry what the doctor told her on the phone, because the look on her face said everything he needed to know.

“It’s just not safe for anyone, especially pregnant women, to travel right now. You’re not facing any special circumstances that would warrant the need to leave the country, so we’re asking that you meet with one of our partnering hospitals to find a doctor in LA that can prepare you to give birth.”

“Yeah, I understand.” she was able to get out as a wave of salty tears spilled onto her cheeks.

She reached for Harry’s hand that laid protectively over her swollen stomach, squeezing her sweaty palm against his own as their fears were confirmed; they had to have the baby here and not in London with their family.

“Thank you so much. I’ll, uhm, give you a call back when I’m ready to schedule our next appointment...Yeah, you too. Bye.”

Y/N paid no mind to her surroundings after that, quick to wiggle herself off of the barstool and abandon the almond milk yogurt and her cell phone as she made a beeline for the bedroom her and Harry shared.

“Baby, wha-”

“Just need a minute,” her blubbers were hardly decipherable as she carried herself down the hall, but Harry was quick to follow.

“Nope,” Harry interjected, walking through the doorway just as she had collapsed into the plush mattress with her head in her hands.

“Yeh don’t get t’ do this by yourself.”

He hushed and cooed her as he climbed towards her from the foot of the bed, not leaving an inch of space between them when he laid down beside her. Not a second was wasted when he got his hands on her, pressing kisses to her forehead and thumbing away each tear that cascaded down her cheek. She was already a sensitive one -- add pregnancy into the mix and a couple of meltdowns like this were bound to happen.

“Come back t’ me, lovie. Please,” Harry pleaded, his voice soft and tender against the heart-wrenching sounds of her cries.

“I just - I can’t do this. Not here,” Y/N hiccupped.

“Sure you can,” Harry quipped through his own frets about becoming a father in a country he didn’t particularly consider to be home.

“We’ll have mum ship all of his stuff over here. We’ll make sure we’ve got everything we need. We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know any of those doctors at the hospital. We don’t even know our neighbors here for Christ’s sake,” her voice was hoarse and strained.

Her words struck Harry as hurtful, but true. But he was quite the optimist, and wouldn’t dare let his girl be sad. With everything in his power, he would spend his last breath trying to make her happy and see that smile that he loved so much.

“Honey,” he began, “I know this is not easy. ‘M not gonna pretend like I know how you’re feeling, but I know that, as shit as this situation is, we’ll have our son by the end of it. Tha’s worth goin’ through just about anything, isn’t it?”

Y/N nodded through deep breaths, slowly relaxing into Harry’s touch.

“We could even have him here, if yeh want. Takes the worry about gettin’ sick at the hospital out of th’ way. Yeh can do whatever yeh want, however yeh want. And I’d be right there with yeh the whole time.”

She seemed to ease up significantly at the thought of a home birth, as Harry could tell just by the look on her face that she seemed less upset at the thought of not being able to give birth in London and more so intrigued by what he’d just mentioned.

“Y-You think we could do that?”

“Absolutely,” Harry answered in a whisper, “‘M sure it’s just a few phone calls and we’ll can have it all sorted out.”

“I like that idea,” her voice was muffled as she leaned in to kiss Harry’s wrist that still held on to either side of her face.

“Me too, now tha’ I think about it. He’ll already be safe at home the second he’s out.”

“This isn’t home,” Y/N pouted as she wormed her way out of Harry’s grasp and settled herself on top of his chest, baby bump pressing impossibly close into Harry’s torso.

Harry sighed as he welcomed his girl into his embrace, using the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her shoulder to cradle her stomach.

“’S more of a home than it isn’t a home. We’ve got memories here,” Harry reminded her.

“We’ve done birthdays and anniversaries here. Couple of New Years Eve parties I think... Shagged in every room too if I’m not mistaken.”

That earned a laugh from Y/N, her taught belly jiggling slightly against Harry’s.

“Even the attic,” she exhaled.

“Even the attic. Couldn’t help it though. Yeh ass looked way too good in those shorts when we were moving the furnit-”

“I get it. Don’t need to be reminded of how I used to look before this happened,” she said, gesturing to her bump.

“Erm, your ass still looks plenty sexy if that's what you’re sayin’,” Harry almost looked offended.

“In fact, I’d say yeh look even sexier now than yeh did back then.”

“Yeah, it’s cos you’re a narcissist and me being pregnant with your son is feeding your ego.”

Harry’s childish laugh was like the cooling balm that soothed the blistering phone call she’d received not twenty minutes prior, melting away any sadness or despair she held in her heart.

A peaceful quietness took over them, neither of them feeling like there was much to be said. Maybe they wouldn’t be having the most ideal experience into first-time parenthood, but they were together and they had each other, stupid jokes and annoying habits included. And that’s all they needed.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #dad!harry #dad!harry styles #harry styles x pregnant!reader #asks

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stellocchia · 3 years

Text

This is part 2 of the comprehensive analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1

So, initially I was thinking of making only one post with only the important quotes from this streams but... yeah, not saying what I think about stuff is not in my blood. So now I’m stuck with this and I’m determined to finish it!

Once again, it’s all about the characters from here on out and I will be mentioning serious themes of abuse and gaslighting, so keep that in mind.

We’re starting this one off with the second proper exile stream: Tommy Is Getting So Much Worse in Exile...

Mushroom Henry is introduced at the beginning of this vod. Initially Tommy doesn’t like him, believing him to be a poor replacement of the real Henry. He then goes towards Tnret and finds it compromised as Lazarbeam had planted some tnt under it the day before during a visit with Vikstar and Technoblade (now, how much of that visit was canon? No one knows! But the tnt part definitely was). Also to be noted that Tommy already stopped fighting back against mobs, which is already rather worrying.

Anyway, this is the stream where Tommy makes an enderchest with Fundy and Ranboo, so I will only write down some of the most notable quotes, and keep it rather brief. It is to be noted that Tommy’s depression at this point had already gotten worse as in the Nether time and time again he avoids doing the haybell mlg instead taking the full fall damage, he defends himself less and he’s already expressing feelings of loneliness. Also, he is now on the first stage of the exile skin set.

“Because if we can’t stay motivated then- then we won’t have anything to do (...) we’re gonna work out how to Keep Doing Things and not... sit around crying” (he has the need to keep busy to stave off loneliness)

“Now everyone, if you should know, we’re gonna go bach and reclaim everything at some point and kill Dream” (talking to chat)

“Music! It’s like a person but they’re not here!” (about Chirp)

“This is like, you know when you fall over? Or you know- or you know when one of your pets die? At school? And then all of a sudden you’re at school and you’re upset and all the people who are usually assholes to you start being nice all of a sudden. This is that!”

This was quite interesting, so I want to talk about it briefly: but this is Tommy’s general mentality. He sees anyone trying to help him or giving him things as just pity from people who don’t actually care nor necessarily even like him. Basically, he feels betrayed and alone and doesn’t actually think that any of this people could possibly care. This however doesn’t seem like a mentality that’s born from exile (since he’s had it since the very beginning of exile) and we don’t actually know where it generated from. Though it could possibly be from the fact that he always had to be very independent since he had to fight in quite a few wars and even take the leading position in the Pogtopia times.

Other note: this is when Ranboo starts leaving letters for Tommy (You can find Tommy and Ranboo's mail exchanges here). At the beginning the chest they used to exchange them was situated on the Nether side of the original portal, which was a ruined portal a bit further away from Tommy’s camp. Also Tommy dies in lava (not canonically) a ton of times in this one and Fundy every times gives him some of his stuff to pretend like nothing got burned (which was kinda adorable).

“Fundy why didn’t you come with me when I got exiled? I was meaning to ask you. ‘Cause no-one came with me” “No-one came with you because it was- *sigh* Tommy I don’t know! It was- it was a shock to all of us” “You could have came with- yeah, but you just let me go. You just let go on me Fundy” “And- and just leave L’Manburg to Tubbo himself? Like all alone?” “No he would have had like literally everyone else on this server” “Like who?” (I just found this exchange interesting)

“I don’t think you’ll like it but Dream is uh, kind of proud of Tubbo. He- he’s actually acknowledging L’Manburg as a new country now” (and this is what the other side of the manipulation looked like from the outside)

“Wait wait! I could talk to the narrator! Then I’d finally have a friend!” (proceeds to start talking to the narrator)

“No no no. No no no Ranboo. Stop- stop complaining. Stop being weird Ranboo. You should be honoured to have a friend that’s close enough that he shoots you” “I don’t think that’s a ‘friend’, I think that’s just an assassin” (Ranboo with the common sense)

“This is where I used to live and then Dream tore it down” “Why did Dream tear it down?” “*sigh* I don’t know”

"Look guys: this is the song of a female astronaut named Clara” (about Chirp)

The vod ends with Tommy and Ghostbur’s attempt at saving Lazarbeam from lava and Ghostbur gifting Tommy the “Your Tubbo” compass.

Moving on: Tommy Is So Lonely in Exile with Dream

This is actually the first stream where Tommy starts off drowning (and he actually dies, yet again, non canonically). Also Puffy gifts him some blue wool, 3 diamonds and his own Christmas tree, specifying that it’s not out of pity so he actually accepts the present.

“We’ve got some things to do. I’m still feeling um... I’m not feeling I AM very very very alone. Just- just so- just lonely all of the time... which isn’t, you know? Isn’t okay. I don’t know why I was at the bottom of the ocean just holding a bone”

Now, a bit to unpack here. In real time by now it had been 3-4 days technically, but in rp it has been specified already multiple times that it had been quite a few days since Tommy got exiled and we don’t really have any reason to believe that he received any more visits then what we’ve seen. Which probably increased his loneliness. Also we don’t have an actual explaination for him waking up drowning, my best guess for it is a mix of him being suicidal and general depression making it hard to get any proper rest (which we know was the case for him since he did mention at one point that he “didn’t sleep anymore”) which could have caused him to start sleepwalking since both “not getting enough sleep” and “stress and anxiety” are listed as causes of it. Now the actual subconcious reason as to why he was going in the sea and letting himself drown is unknown but, again, he was suicidal while in exile.

Also “How to Sex 2″ got burned by Ghostbur, not volountarily of course, he just had it on him when he died in lava.

“I’m too lonely to be angry now, alright? We got to appreciate all the friends that we can get” (about Lazarbeam bringing him a present)

“The compass is nice though! We’ve got a compass that always will point to Tubbo... not that- not that he’d care” (beginning of the doubts about his old friends)

“Tubbo has one too? [referring to the compass] Oh he’ll just- if he’s got one he’s just using it for show... he’s- I’ve accepted that he’s the president now and I’m just- I’m just that guy he had to exile to show how powerful he was” (again, doubts)

Also Tommy makes his first path to Logstedshire in this stream. He also takes a liking to Mushroom Henry here after figuring out he could produce mushroom soup, meaning he actually had a sustainable source of food instead of having to relay mostly on handouts.

“Guys we need some more coal” *Dream joins the game* “...ooooooh no please don’t come and visit me. Please please please” (I’m leaving this here, I believe this reaction speaks for itself)

“Hey! I’m- I’m above right now by the pretty Christmas tree that there is here” “Why are you here?” “I’m visiting you!” “Last time you said that you ruined me” “I- How did I ruin you?” “*sigh* Hi Dream!” “Hello~” “What have you- what” “Where are you at?” “I’m just com- why are you here? Every time you’ve been here you’ve done something destructive” “I- I what- I haven’t done anything destructive... everything’s been fine! I haven’t destroyed anything”

At the time there were a lot of people who were hesitant at calling Dream’s manipulation “gaslighting”, as that is a precise type of manipulation, but this right here? This is an example of gaslighting. Dream destroyed everything Tommy had every time he visited him and they both know this, still what Dream is trying to do here is convince Tommy that that never happened to keep up his friendly facade. Just because he isn’t saying directly “you can’t trust what you remember” doesn’t mean that that’s not exactly what he is implying. To reiterate this point they meet up right after and Dream, once again, blows up Tommy’s armour and diamond sword:

“Hello~ take your armour off” “Why should I take my armour off?” “Um, drop it down here” “No, no! I worked really hard to get this. No!” “Okay... you can get it again!” “No! See this is what I told you about, that you’re destructive to me” “Tommy I’m not destructive... but, listen, you gotta drop it” (...) “No, no! I’m a rebellious teenager. I don’t listen to green punks” *Dream hits Tommy with an axe* “*screams* Okay okay okay okay okay”

Again, Dream hitting Tommy in this case is portrayed as physical abuse. And then Dream goes back to acting as if nothing ever happened, going on to talk about his day, telling Tommy that he knows about the 2 compasses and telling him that Tubbo went over while Tommy wasn’t there and that he is free to visit Tommy, he just hasn’t done it yet (all of this are actually true, but the implication that Tubbo didn’t want to see Tommy obviously isn’t).

“Dream, I think I’ve realized why no-one’s came to see me” “Why’s that?” “It’s because- it’s because there is not an easy way to get to me and I’m gonna make an easy way to get to me today” “I mean, if you boat here, it took me 2 minutes” “No no-one wants to use the boat, it’s too far- it’s too far for people” “Oh you know what Tommy? I’ll do you a favour”

This is when Dream moves Tommy’s portal. Now, one thing that I want to point out is that Dream had already intercepted Ranboo’s and Tommy’s first mail book (we know this because in Ranboo’s message at the beginning of this stream he said that the first one disappeared) so he probably knew that Ranboo was using the secrecy of the further away portal to communicate with Tommy undetected. Of course Dream can’t have that, though he probably didn’t account for Ranboo not giving up that easily.

“Well it’s very awkward considering you exiled me and- and have banished me from being around all of my friends and now are trying to side with me it’s kinda-” “Tommy what’d you mean from all your friends? I’m your friend!” “Yeah... yeah you are” “I am your friend Tommy~” “Yeah I- Yeeeeeah, Dream” (just to clarify: Tommy is not agreeing with Dream here, he is being sarcastic. Also Dream starts harping a bit more on this point from here on out)

“Oh I just witnessed another suicide...” (second time this happens, the first was in the last vod, and he stays staring at the lava for a moment)

Tommy once again trying to push Dream into lava (again similarly to how he did in the first proper exile stream) and Dream just goes along with it (mostly just to flex about how that can’t actually kill him). I consider this couple of times as the first times Tommy started lashing out in exile.

“Health and safety is important Dream! *staring at lava* Is it though?” “Yes, yes it’s important Tommy. It’s not your time to die”

“And then you’re coming over here giving me shit and also burning my shit. You’re just- you’re just a monster” “I didn’t burn any of your shit” “You blew it up! You exploded it! Man you’re ruining my life...” “I blew it up, I didn’t burn it though” (because that makes all the difference of course...)

“Hey man I could jump and you’d be able to do nothing about it and I’d- I’d be done-zo” “I- I ask you please not to” “Okay” “I need you alive and well”

Now I found this interesting when first watching as well, but Dream really did spell it out for us that he actually needed Tommy, huh? Like, in retrospect, what Dream then intended to do in the Season 2 Finale seemed kind of obvious. Also after that They have a discussion about the enderchest, but Tommy gets to keep it. Also Ranboo appears at the portal, though Dream doesn’t manage to see who it is and Ranboo manages to escape before he sees (thanks in part to Tommy distracting Dream). Now I want to point out that, even if outwardly people had the permission to visit Tommy, the fact that everyone was so scared about Dream finding out about it talks volume about how clear that was. Also this is when Dream gives Tommy the general direction of Technoblade’s cabin.

“Look at us go... hey why don’t you just un-exile me, you know? You know?” “*laughs* Well I think that I- I- I think that maybe there is a possibility at least in the- in the future that you could- you could- you know? Get a visitor’s pass...” (notice that he only confirmed a possibility for a visitor’s pass, not for actually going back, Dream literally never meant for Tommy to go back permanently)

Lazarbeam arrives to visit Tommy at this point to gift him Far and a fire resistence potion.

“See I told you! It was because I didn’t have a bridge that nobody was coming to visit me Dream! It wasn’t because it was me” “Yeah it must be...”

“Hey Dream come and listen to this man! [talking about Far]” “I-I’m-” “Hey, promise you won’t- If I get a new disc you wouldn’t mind would you?” “No I wouldn’t” “Okay, come and listen. I trust you now, now we’ve bonded” (Is this the second time Tommy invites Dream to listen to a disc with him?)

At this point Dream pressures Lazarbeam to mug Tommy with him and the whole scene is just pretty weird, but it boils down to Dream blowing Tommy’s armour up (again), while also hitting him a bit more when he doesn’t immediately comply (basically making this humiliating and making Tommy understand that he is not any safer with someone else there). Though Tommy does end up lashing out and killing Lazarbeam (not canonically) and Dream destroys his enderchest in retaliation. After that Tommy does become more submissive, not wanting to get killed. Now I want to point out that that same day Dream had agreed that Tommy could keep his enderchest without any conditions to it, but, of course, Dream’s rules are constantly changing. Dream does leave after that for a bit.

“I put your enderchest back by the way Tommy” “Really?” “Yeah. I just wanted to prevent you from putting his armour in there so... that’s why I broke it” “Thank you! Thank you” “You’re welcome”

Wanna know why this is bullshit? Tommy didn’t even try to go towards the enderchest when he had Lazarbeam’s armour and immediately gave it up at Dream’s request. This is just Dream giving Tommy a “reward” for being compliant after punishing him. Also pointing out the fact that Tommy felt compelled to thank Dream even if Dream was the one who caused the issue he just fixed in the first place. Also Connor arrives as well.

“Yeah you can’t move into my home Connor” “Well I mean, of course he can because it’s not your home because you’re not going back” “What do you mean I’m not going back?” “Well as I said maybe potentially you could get a visitors pass” (reiterating a point from the start)

“Tubbo- Tubbo said that! Tubbo said it [the server] looked so much better since Tommy left. And I was like ‘wait what?’ and he’s like: ‘yeah it could be a coincidence though but I don’t think so'” (you manipulative green bastard)

“I don’t know if you know this but I’ve been constructing a- a uh- a prison and it is ginormous so...” (I did not remember Dream mentioning the prison this early on)

Anyway, the stream ends with Dream stripping for primes and since I need it, I decided that that’s canon.

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #fundy #ranboo #dream smp #relationship analysis #character analysis #exile arc #tw manipulation #tw abuse #tw suicide #long post #my post #there was a point when tommy threatened to become a cannibal if dream didn't leave him alone #and dream said 'that's fine by me quackity ate schlatt's heart anyway #what the hell am I watching?#why am I doing this?

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

🎄Warnings: Smut, threesome, alcohol, drug use, language, mature themes, a tiny bit of dubcon but not much, mega age gap.

🎄Masterlist

🎄Summary: After one of Colson Baker’s infamous adult Christmas parties, you decide to stay a little longer than everyone else and end up getting snowed in. One drink after another, things get interesting with one of LA’s hottest couples.

🎄Theme: Jawbreaker, Machine Gun Kelly

🎄A/N: Sorry I had to sin during the season of your birthday, Jesus. (No I’m not.)

“And that’s how we met.”

Megan had finished her story, the people that remained at the party all gathered around, sharing spiked eggnog in cozy sweaters and blankets, swapping stories.

Colson held her close, and secretly, [ y / n ]’s heart would clench every time she would see them together. Because the fact of the matter was, was that she had fallen. For both of them.

But she knew that nothing would ever come of it. Because all you were to them was Rook’s 18 year old, alcohol-drinking, weed smoking cousin. A face that they would see everywhere, but never cared to meet or start a conversation with. Her infatuation with the two of them only grew, and she had always felt guilty for it.

Rightfully so, because she was crushing on two people that were taken by each other. If that wasn’t guilt inducing, nothing else was.

But nonetheless, she sat and listened, hanging on to every word they spoke, and she swore she could feel her heart skip a beat whenever one of them, or both of them, would look at her as they spoke.

After a few more stories, the guest numbers started to dwindle. Soon there were only 8 people left, the rest of the party-goers not wanting to stick around and help clean up.

Slim, Kells, Megan, Rook, Dub, Mod, Travis, and [ y / n ] were the only ones who were left, and it seemed as if Travis and [ y / n ] were the only ones sober enough to even start cleaning up.

Everyone was in the living room, listening to music and doing their own thing, Kells, Rook, Slim, and Mod starting a game of pool while Megan hung on Kells like an ornament does a Christmas tree, cheering him on and helping him out, Mr. Baker drunk as all hell.

When [ y / n ] and Travis were done cleaning up, Mod had already left, Rook and Slim already stumbling to their rooms, most likely passed the fuck out by now. [ y / n ] had to say, her cousin knew how to hold his liquor. How could he not with Colson as a friend?

Travis soon spoke up, “I think I’m gonna head out, there’s supposed to be a pretty bad snow storm. Dunno if you wanna get caught in that, [ y / n ].”

She gave a chaste nod in response, giving him a hug and wishing him farewell, before slipping into the kitchen. From the counter she stood at, she could hear the couple saying their goodbye to Travis, soon hearing the front door open and close, a chilly breeze sweeping through the house.

[ y / n ] had already poured herself a drink, and usually she was a cocktail kinda girl. But after having to spend the whole night watching Colson and Megan literally being on top of each other, she needed something stronger.

“Scotch on the rocks, huh?”

[ y / n ]’s eyes flickered up, only to be met with Megan’s eyes as she leaned on the counter, looking at [ y / n ]’s drink as the young girl put the bottle of alcohol back into a cupboard.

She flashed a friendly smile as she made her way back, “Yeah, just thought it would be nice to change it up a little bit.”

“I have to say that your cocktails are pretty good though,” Megan slumped in her position, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes, (obviously drunk), and [ y / n ] already knew what it meant.

A Sex on the Beach was her favorite, and she knew by the compliment, she wanted the young woman to make one for her, and [ y / n ] let out a sigh, and Megan gave a pouty face in response. But [ y / n ] could never say no to her.

Soon enough, she found herself with the needed ingredients in front of her, an orange-hued cocktail glass to add a little... pazazz if you will.

Megan looked on in intoxicated wonder, watching as the other woman poured the cocktail, without even measuring anything. And after [ y / n ] garnished it with a cherry.

Megan let out a sigh as she felt Colson slip up behind her, his arms around her waist, causing [ y / n ] to look up, looking right back down at the counter when she noticed the display of affection that just made her nauseous. It’s not that she found it gross. But more-so wishing that she was in both positions.

“Ah, thanks for the drink,” Colson smirked, taking advantage of the whisky that sat there on the counter.

[ y / n ] wanted to make a sound of protest, but when she caught sight of his fingers wrapped around the glass, the noise stopped half-way up her throat.

God, his fingers are so sexy, fuck, I wonder with they could reach my cervix when he does it up to the knuckles- Wait, stop, [ y / n ], you’re being weird, stop.

.”You know, you somehow even make a whiskey on the rocks somehow taste better. Dunno how you do it, you can’t even drink yet,” Colson praised, [ y / n ] wincing at the fact that he mentioned her age.

It was true, she was the baby of the group. At only age 18, the boys were very protective of her, and it always made her self conscious, alway being treated like a baby. She liked to think of herself as a girl who’s mind was beyond her years, hating that she was born at the wrong time.

She mumbled out a quick ‘thanks’ before sliding Ms. Fox her drink, a smile spreading across her face as she got giddy, squealing as she took a sip, a face of almost pleasure crossing her expression.

“Holy shit, [ y / n ]. You’re the fucking best, fuck,” she admired, taking a long sip this time, Colson making childish grabby hands at the drink, the woman making a big show of presenting it to him, which of course included him rubbing her ass right against hit groin, making him let out a low groan, his head dropping in her neck.

“You know, [ y / n ], we would love it if you stayed the night. Besides, there’s a really bad storm, we wouldn’t want you out on the road,” looking at Colson, nudging him as queue to agree.

All she got was a nod.

“Thanks, I think I’ll just crash on the couch or something,” [ y / n ]’s voice was barely audible, the pda in front of her making her slightly uncomfortable.

“Nahhhh, you d-don’t need to, [ y / n / n ],” Colson was now slurring, “You can just sleep in our bed,”

[ y / n ] let out a small laugh, amused by his drunk offer. But after a few serious looks being thrown in her direction, she realized they were serious.

“Oh, y-you mean it, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Come oooon,” Megan wiggled out of Cols’ grasp, walking to the other side of the counter, grabbing [ y / n ]’s hands and guiding her away, dragging her up the stairs, Colson slowly finding his way behind them.

When they finally made it to the master bedroom, Megan looked at [ y / n ] with a smirk, “Come on, you can’t sleep in that, you can borrow some of my things, just for tonight.”

“Are you sure, that’s not necessary, I-”

Megan shushed her, “Shh, it’s fine, it’s the least I can to. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, ‘tis the season of giving,”

She suddenly pulled her in the bathroom, the closet connected in the back, but not before Colson suggested he slipped in the bathroom with them. [ y / n ] both scoffed and rolled their eyes, closing the door behind them.

“Strip,” Megan said.

[ y / n ] blinked, “h-huh?”

“For the clothes, silly, you aren’t gonna put it over your clothes,”

Megan patted to the closet, rustling around, soon coming out with a shirt and some shorts.

“Here, go ahead ‘n get dressed,”

“What, like right here?” [ y / n ] asked, anxiety obviously shooting up.

Megan let her hands rub over [ y / n ]’s shoulders, “Don’t sweat it, we’re both girls, we all have the same parts,”

[ y / n ] nodded shyly, taking off her dress-up shirt, then slipping off her pants, left in nothing but a bra and panties on. Megan then spoke up from behind her, making eye contact with [ y / n ] in the mirror, “You have a really beautiful body,”

[ y / n ] dismissed it as a drunk comment, and was about to slip the donated shirt on, but Megan stopped her before a second arm slipped into it.

“Aren’t you going to take off your bra? Heard it can cause bad stuff for your chest. Besides, that bra is too pretty to ruin.”

She nodded slowly, now avoiding Megan’s prying eyes, getting behind her and unclasping her bra for her. Megan watched it was it dropped, starring at her breasts.

The young woman cleared her throat, trying to get her tempting thoughts out of her head, slipping the rest of the clothes on, and was about to walk out of the door, before Megan once again stopped her.

“Hey,” she started, “You’re beautiful,” Megan then leaned over, leaving a soft kiss on [ y / n ]’s forehead, and if she wasn't red before, she was definitely red now.

It was all so random. Coming out of nowhere.

Opening the door, [ y / n ] tried her hardest to forget what just happened, but it was all she could think about.

Colson already seemed like he was on the brink of sleep, the light from the TV being the only thing illuminating the room. But when his attention focused on the two women walking towards him, getting ready to slip into bed with him, he was wide awake.

[ y / n ] paused for a second, stopping in her tracks, she wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to do next, let alone what she was about to do. What the fuck even was this? A drunken idea that will be discarded in the morning, the two of them dismissing it because they were too drunk to remember?

Or did this mean something? Was this a sign? What if they both-

“Come on, [ y / n ], I don’t bite, Colson smiled, patting the spot right next to him, Megan nodding in confirmation.

“Y-Yeah, sure, okay,” her words came out faster than anticipated, making her sound like she was babbling like a toddler.

Before she could embarrass herself anymore than she already did, she did as she was told, [ y / n ] slipping into the covers as she made room for Megan on the king-sized bed.

But when Colson pulled her in, her head now on his chest, she could feel her heart beating a million miles a minute. And at first, she thought that Megan would disapprove. This was her boyfriend we were talking about.

But when she hopped into bed, she objected for a different reason than expected.

“Hey, don’t hog her, I want some cuddles too,” she whined, latching onto [ y / n ] by wrapping her arms around her waist and nuzzling her face in the back of the girl’s neck.

But Megan could sense [ y / n ]’s heartbeat, and she almost smirked to herself because she was part of the reason.

“Come on, [ y / n ], it’s just us,” she soothed, hoping it would help with nerves.

Colson himself gave a small squeeze of reassurance, then reaching over to his bedside table and pulling out a joint, lighting it.

“You want first hit?” he passed it to [ y / n ] and she nodded. If anything were to calm her down, it would be this. At least relieve some tension.

Soon enough, the joint was burned up to the filter, the room smelling like weed as the three of them relaxed, watching the movie that was on the screen. Colson was now sobered up a little bit. But he wouldn’t dare change the situation that he was in. Not for a hundred bucks. Not even for a million.

[ y / n ] was nuzzled deeply into his chest now, Megan playing with her hair as she gave a look to Colson.

As soon as the movie ended, Colson looked over to [ y / n ] who was sleeping peacefully, she soft breaths enough to make the couple fall asleep. Megan let out a small ‘aw’ before gently kissing her forehead just like she did in the bathroom.

“Goodnight [ y / n ],”

Colson imitated her action, doing the same as she whispered Megan’s exact message, before pretending to fall asleep.

But both of them weren’t sleeping. They were just hoping that the other one wasn’t going to find out about what they were about to do. They couldn’t resist. [ y / n ] was right there, and the both of them had a connection to the girl, so how could they not?

Colson made the first move. He let his free hand reach over his body, letting his hand drift gently over her thighs, making her shift just the slightest in her sleep. Soon enough it reached her calfs, then right where he wanted it, her covered clit his next target, pressing lightly on it, knowing the pressure would get to her, maybe even enough to wake her up.

But she was sleeping like a rock, and all he was getting was whimpers and mutters of profanity in her sleep.

It wasn’t until he felt another hand down there that he stopped and froze in his tracks. He suddenly looked over and whisper yelled.

“Megan??”

She had the same response, “Colson??”

They both had the same goal. But it was somewhat relieving. Because the other couldn’t blame the feelings they had for the 18 year old. And Megan thought that she was the only one who had the sinful thought of touching her and making her make sultry noises in her sleep, feeling the gratification that she, in fact, made them happen.

But now things changed. Now she didn’t feel so indifferent about her displays of affection for the girl, and neither did Colson. Because there were always the intentional touches every now and again. Always having the excuse to reach over [ y / n ], his hand touching her lower waist, which also made her turn a shade of dark pink, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake.

Now things had changed.

Megan switched on the lamp on her side, giving a knowing look to Colson, knowing what they wanted to do next. They just prayed that [ y / n ] would want to do it too.

Megan leaned over, leaving kisses across [ y / n ]’s neck as she let her hands slip up her shirt, dragging her nails across her stomach. Once Colson saw that [ y / n ]’s eyes were fluttering open, he suddenly grabbed her, making her squeak, pulling her into his lap as the kissed her on her lips.

It may have been the sleepy haze, or maybe the weed, but [ y / n ] found herself kissing back as he held her close, now shifting herself to straddle his waist, their tongues poking and playing with each other while Megan let out a huff of disapproval, for Colson, once again hogging the girl.

Megan ended up leaning up to her neck once again, her hands drifting everywhere she pleased, [ y / n ] letting out soft noises.

Suddenly, Colson flipped her on the bed, before stripping her almost completely, except for her shirt.

“That’s my shirt, you know,” he smirked, knowing Megan might have done that on purpose.

This time, Megan’s hand sliding farther up, touching her beasts, lifting up the shirt just above them, bringing her mouth to the nipples, sucking them. Colson slipped his clothes off, trying to match the girl in front of him, Megan soon following suit, deciding to take off Colson’s shirt, leaving [ y / n ] completely in the nude.

Their hands were all over her, making her squirm, getting self conscious. She was in front of the two most beautiful people she knew, and somehow they wanted her, my some miracle. But yet, she was relived, because she didn’t need to hide such dangerous feelings. Here, she thought her thoughts would split the couple apart. But what was about to happen was going to strengthen their bond for all three of them.

Colson waisted no time getting between [ y / n ] legs, making contact with her clit as she let out a whimper. So many times, she had pictured this. Every time she touched herself, she pictured him doing it and not her hand, and it was finally happening.

[ y / n ] then decided to make a daring move, reaching her hand down to Megan’s clit, rubbing soft circles around the bud, making her feel perfect. Sure, Colson could make her cum. But [ y / n ] was a woman. She knew what a woman’s body wants. What a woman’s body needs, and soon enough, the two women were about to fall off the edge.

And they did, and Colson didn’t know which one to focus his attention on. It was beautiful to watch both of the women who were closest to him reach a state of nirvana. Especially at the same time.

He then kissed up [ y / n ]’s stomach as she was just then coming down to Earth, then hovering over her, kissing her passionately. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it was the hottest thing she thought she could experience that night.

But Christ, was she wrong.

“Let me have a taste, Cols,” Megan muttered, Colson eagerly complying, slipping his hand down to [ y / n ]’s clit to rub soft circles as he kissed his girlfriend, the afterglow of her orgasm somehow making her more beautiful.

[ y / n ] turned her head, muffling her moans against the crook of Megan’s neck, her heavy breaths making the older woman squirm at the warm sensation.

When the couple broke the kiss, Colson suddenly positioning himself at [ y / n ]’s entrance, kissing her neck, sucking dark marks all over her soft spots. But a wave of anxiety crashed over her as she pushed him back, stopping both him and Megan in their tracks, automatically concerned.

“W-Wait, I’ve never... I haven’t-” she struggled to get her words out, Colson filling in the blanks.

“You’re a virgin?” Megan suddenly cut in.

“How are you even related to Rook- Ow-” Colson got a smack on the chest from Megan, giving him a look.

“What better way to loose your virginity than to share it with more than one person?” Megan suggested.

“I just... can you hold my hand?” she asked Megan like a child, and she automatically obliged, intertwining their fingers and placing a soft kiss on her nose.

“Anything for you.”

“Are you okay to keep going?” Colson asked sensitively, and [ y / n ] gave a small nod before taking a deep but shaky breath.

As she let a breath out, he began to insert the tip, making [ y / n ] gasp, a new discomfort in her cunt she had never felt before. And fuck he was big. But if there was one thing that was known about [ y / n ], it was that she wasn’t a quitter. She had made it this far.

After a few seconds of whispered praises from the both of them, [ y / n ] bit down on her lip as she began to push in farther, the girl squeezing Megan’s hand like it was the last thing she would ever do.

Soon enough, we was bottomed out inside her, giving her time to adjust, Colson kissing her collarbone as Megan kissed her jaw. After several minutes of cock-warming, [ y / n ] saw it fit to move, almost letting out a sigh of relief.

Slowly, he started to move, trying his best to be as gentle as possible. Soon he began to go faster, and the ache in [ y / n ]’s core began to dissolve into pleasure as she felt every ridge and every vein as be slipped in and out of her.

“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking tight, shit,” he cursed, beginning to go faster and faster, [ y / n ] feeling the coil inside her tighten.

“m’gonna cum, can I please cum?” she asked desperately, Megan bringing their intertwined hands up to her lips, giving [ y / n ]’s hand a kiss.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, unravel on his cock,” her words leaving Colson speechless, her fingers slipping down to her clit, [ y / n ] letting out a yelp of pleasure.

Soon enough, the coil inside her snapping like a twig as a mind-numbing orgasm, making her black out, passing out in pure euphoria, Colson pulling out and Megan suddenly lurching forward, her mouth on his tip, taking his cum in her mouth, swallowing everything he gave him.

Tucking her under the covers, Colson smirked, letting it sink in that he was his first time, almost feeling as if she saved herself for this exact moment.

And as [ y / n ] finally slipped into peaceful sleep, Colson then went to his girlfriend, getting ready to give her a perfectly earned orgasm.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly x reader smut #tickets to my downfall #Megan Fox #megan fox x reader

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patt-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies !! and I really hope you like it!!!

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up. You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #secret santa fic #patt’s creations

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too.

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever?

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas!

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

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jupitermelichios · 4 years

Text

On a more possitive note, I’ve started watching Sword Art Online. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen (and the last film I saw in cinemas was Cats to give you context for the scale i’m working on here) and I kind of adore it in much the same way I love garbage like Smallville or Twilight. It’s so stupid on so many levels. You could challenge someone to write the worst anime, and it would almost certainly be better than SAO. It’s almost hypnotic how terrible it is.

No one should watch this terrible terrible show so I therefore don’t feel at all bad that I’m about the spoil absolutely everything, but honestly if you do also hate-watch this please come talk to me about how terrible it is. I don’t know anyone else who watches it.

Highlights of Season 1 include:

everyone is trapped in an MMO, and if you die in the MMO you die IRL. but if you were a beta-tester you’re probably fine because they just let them keep all their levels and items from the testing, so they’re all massively OP and everyone just accepts this as a normal and non-game-breaking thing

it’s a fantasy MMO but there’s no races, no magic system, no weapons except swords and maces, and not even an option to dual wield - literally all you can do in this fucking game is stand in front of an enemy and mash the attack button. I’m pretty sure they’re trapped there because the devs realised no one would play this post launch-day otherwise because it’s boring as shit

when the villain traps everyone he also just changs all their avatars to look like they do IRL for absolutely no reason, like actually none, he doesn’t even say he thinks it would be funny, he just does it and no one questions it and it is literally never mentioned again because this is the worst TV show ever animated.

in the second episode the main character deliberately witholds information about how to defeat a boss, indirectly causing multiple deaths. there is absolutely no reason for him to withhold it, he was just being a jerk because he doesn’t like people

in the third episode they reset his entire personality and he’s now a selfless hero pretending to be a lower level than he really is so people will find him more relateable and be his friend because all he wants is to help people. this is not a consequence of episode 2, they just decided they didnt like the character as he’d previously been written.

he makes some new friends who are all objectively terrible people who have decided for no season that the twelve year old who doesn’t really know how to play and keeps having anxiety attacks about the very real possibility of death has to be the guild tank. the MC is high enough level to be functionally immortal in like half the levels, but doesn’t tell anyone this he just lets them go on bullying this child

none of his friends survive that episode, in the game or IRL. which is also a christmas epsiode. a child dies in battle because she’s a terrible tank and then a man commits suicide out of guilt, so then the main character murders santa to try and bring them back from the actual dead but it doesn’t work because again, this is a video game and they are dead IRL, so then he walks off into the snow alone. Christmas!

we meet the best character in the entire show in episode 4, Rosalia, who has gone evil and started just straight murdering people because she’s sick of being an attractive adult woman who can’t get a date because she’s surrounded by lolicons who are only interested in the preteen characters (not a joke, that comes up, the show is firmly on the side of the lolicons)

in the same episode we get an extended bra and panty sequence staring an actual fucking child, like canonically this character is maybe 13 at best. this is one of only 2 occaisions when they feel the need to undress a character and it’s the fucking 12 year old, it’s so gross it reads like a parody of itself

literally every single named female character aged over 8 who talks to the MC falls in love with him after like 5 minutes (and in season 2 this includes his actual sister). he shows absolutely no interest in any of them (including his sister, thank god) until...

the main character gets engaged to a girl he only knows from an MMO after a virtual single date (he doesn’t actually win her in a PVP match but only because he looses the match, he 100% canonically tries to win her in a match, which she is apparently fine with). he then doesn’t bother to ask for her real name until the final episode, he just calls her by her screen name

(that’s okay though becuase it turns out that this moron of a love interest used her real name, on a local server, in a game where your character looks like you do IRL, because apparently getting doxxed is her hobby)

they then get in-game married off screen. there’s not even like a still of a wedding photo. nothing. the main character proposes and then the show immediately jumps to the honeymoon, it’s fucking bizarre.

they find a creepy child dressed all in white with no memory alone in the woods a week into their honeymoon who starts calling them mommy and daddy literally seconds after they first meet her, and they don’t suspect anything suss is going on and adopt her

for hilarity bear in mind the main character may only be 15 at this point (he says he’s only just turned 16 in the last epsiode, but his actual birthday is never mentioned), and his virtual wifu is 16, but no one ever questions the marriage or the adoption, even though ‘hey marriage in a video game is as important and meaningful as marriage in real life’ is an actual conversation people have multiple times. also they think the child they adopt is an actual IRL 8 year old who thinks these randos she met in an MMO are her mum and dad and everyone just goes with that like it’s a totally normal thing

a character called ‘Thinker’ agrees to meet an enemy faction leader for peace talks. the “peace talks” take place in a high level dungeon and he is told to come alone with no weapons and no fast travel. he does this. no one ever comments that his name is ironic, and in fact they seem to think that being betrayed and trapped in a dungeon with a boss is a totally unexpected turn of events Thinker could never have planned for

they take their new baby into the dungeon to rescue thinker, because they went to the jean grey school of baby rearing, and she imediately reveals that she’s actually a magical maggufin with infinite power, murders the grim reaper, and then dies. In literally the second episode she’s in

after she dies the MC hacks the admin account of the game, converts her corpse into an in game item, and saves to the local storage on his console, with the intention of bringing her back to life as a robot once they’re saved from the game. I’m not joking, that’s an actual thing that happens.

the fact that the main character can just access the main admin account and make massive game-breaking changes isn’t used again in that game and he never thinks to try and use it to force log people out or give himself infinite life so he can just rush the game and free everyone. nope, convert a corpse into an item and then never think about it again.

there’s an entire episode where all they do is go fishing. its the only filler episode in the season, and it immediately follows the death of a small child. it’s the most tone-deaf beach episode in writing history

it turns out this game, this game where they didn’t bother coding in any difference races, weapons, or any kind of magic system, was intended to have fully sentient AI therapists, because why the fuck not at this point honestly

oh also the game has PVP and you can trick the game into thinking a sleeping player is in PVP with you in order to actually murder a real person without it flagging in-game as a murder making the crime impossible for the real life legal system to investigate even though you just murdered a person. and they expect us to believe this game had actual beta testers. at least cyberpunk wasn’t played on microwaves you connected straight to your brain (also not a joke, the VR consoles canonically work by sending microwave radiation into your brain, no wonder VR never caught on)

the set up for the show is that they have to reach level 100 of a dungeon in order to win. At level 75, the writers got bored and the show just ends.

it turns out the power of love allows you to just break the fucking game and the main villain literally has a line about how ‘love allows you to remove debuffs, huh, we didn’t think to plan for that’ because again, there’s no metaphors in this show, everything is 100% literal including the fact that falling in love with another player means you’re immune to the paralysis status effect

power of love also allows you to very briefly become a poltergeist after being killed, but only for like 2 seconds. again not a joke or a metaphor, main character is killed but then gets to hang around as a ghost for a little bit to enable him to defeat the boss. he also doesn’t die in real life despite that being the entire fucking premise of the show, again because power of love.

the bad guy literally has no plan, he’s just doing shit for the sake of having something to do. His actions directly cause the deaths of more than 4,000 people, and it’s not even in aid of anything. they ask him why he trapped 10,000 people in an MMO and allowed them to slowly die, and he’s just like ‘huh, i forgot i did that, random’ and then just fucking peaces out

the fact that he committed one of the largest mass killings outside of war never really comes up again, as far as we know he doesn’t even go to jail. i think the show actually kind of thinks he’s a good guy, which is a fucking WILD moral stance to take on the deaths of 4000 completely innocent people for absolutely no reason

If this sounds hilari-bad but you don’t want to invest the time to watch a show which is objectively garbage, it has an abridged series which is famously better than the show it’s parodying (i’m dead serious, people have character arcs, the getting married after one date thing is properly addressed, the mc has to deal with PTSD because of all his friends dying in epsidode 3, they don’t immediately follow the death of a child with an extended fishing montage, the villain has an actual plan). It’s mostly actually pretty good, but this is the internet and it’s an abridged series, so while there are a lot fewer yikes moments than most it still has enough that I’m not comfortable recommending it without the caveat. that said I still enjoyed it a lot, although possibly not at much as pointing and laughing at the garbage that is the actual show.

#sao bashing #kirito bashing #sao abridged #good bad shows #i love this garbage show so much #it's one of the funniest things i've watched all year #and none of that is intentional #sword art online bashing #if you also love hate this show please come talk to me about how terrible it is

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mysticpetals · 4 years

Text

Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake × mc fanfic #viotence tw #physical attack tw #coma tw #blood tw #panic attack tw #please read the warnings carefully!!#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

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dem-obscure-imagines · 4 years

Text

The Rest of Our Forever

George Weasley x Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Note: This is a sequel to “Stuck With Me”. As always, fuck J.K. Rowling, trans rights are human rights. As a reminder, reader has healing powers.

Summary: After George proposes to you, you spend some time reflecting on all of the moments that have led you to where you are.

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEATHLY HALLOWS…mentions of death. Other than that, a little angst and a lot of fluff.

Word Count: 6.3k

“You look so beautiful, (Y/N)…” Ginny murmured. She tucked the sparkling tiara into your hair, which Fleur had pulled up into an elegant updo.

“That’s thanks to all of you.”

“Oh, no dear, you’re always beautiful.” Molly scolded. She had something in her hand, a little box. “Now, (Y/N), if it’s not too much to ask, I have this necklace for you to wear. You still need ‘something borrowed.’”

Molly pulled out a simple heart-shaped locket.

“Oh, Molly, it’s beautiful…” You covered your mouth with your hands, eyes tearing up. Molly had always been so accepting of you into her family, and this was, of course, no exception. “Of course I’d love to wear it. Thank you so much.”

“Anything for our newest Weasley.” She beamed, standing behind you to fasten the clasp around your neck. “I am so, unbelievably happy for you, dear. You make our Georgie so happy.”

You smiled, your heart racing just thinking about him. “He makes me so happy, too…”

***

You were nervous. So, unbelievably nervous. You were the only child in your family, a Muggleborn witch, and you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. So, wide-eyed and scared, you started wandering King’s Cross. You had no idea how you were supposed to get to Platform 9¾, and you were far too shy to ask, so instead you wandered towards 9 and 10, looking around desperately for someone who was like you. Someone who would make you feel less alone.

It was then that you were literally knocked off of your feet by a pair of red-headed twins. One of them immediately turned, a guilty look on his face at the sight of you, sitting on the concrete floor.

“Look what you’ve done, Fred! You’ve bulldozed her!” He called at his twin, who was looking on somewhat apologetically. “Sorry about him. He has no sense for this sort of thing. A bit clumsy, that one.” He held out his hand and you locked eyes with him. In that moment, something clicked inside of you and you stared up at him in shock for a moment before you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “I’m George Weasley.”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” you introduced, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you going to…um…” you leaned in and whispered, “Hogwarts?”

He nodded. “Are you a first year, too?”

“I am. I…don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t worry. You can follow us.” Fred encouraged.

“Meeting friends already, boys?” Molly asked. Her face lit up in a warm, welcoming smile when she saw the look on your face. “What’s your name, dear?”

“I’m (Y/N).” You introduced shyly.

“Well, Miss (Y/N), we will get you to Hogwarts in one piece, don’t you worry one bit. Now go on, George, you go first.”

“See you on the other side.” He said with a wink, taking ahold of his cart and pushing it straight through the platform.

You watched in awe as he disappeared into the brick pillar. “Woah…”

Fred went next, and then some of the twins’ older brothers. And then you took your turn, running straight through the brick wall and into a train platform identical to the one you’d just left. George was waiting there with a lopsided supportive smile.

“See? It’s not so bad.”

“It’s not.” You agreed.

“Do you have anyone to sit with?” George asked, realizing that since you were there alone, you probably didn’t have any wizard friends.

You shook your head, your lip pulled between your teeth.

“You can sit with us, if you like.” Fred offered with a smile. “I owe you one for knocking you over earlier.” When he said it, he stepped on George’s foot.

Pain shot through your toes and you looked down, but found that there was nothing there to cause it. Instead, George cursed and lifted his foot.

“Merlin, Fred! Watch it!”

You were stunned into silence, staring at George and at his foot and then back at yours, and all at once, you understood the feeling that had clicked in your chest when you’d first locked eyes with him. You had a feeling that you were going to have to get used to George Weasley…

***

It was your fourth year. You were worried about lots of things. Namely, the giant snake roaming the castle, and additionally, your best friend’s sister had disappeared because of it. You were headed down to the common room because you couldn’t sleep, but you quickly found that someone else had the very same idea. You heard sniffling, but until you got closer, you couldn’t tell who it was.

“George?” You asked softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” He lied, quickly wiping his tears away. “Even in the dark, you can tell us apart, huh?”

“It’s not that hard, really.” You said, walking around the edge of the couch and sitting down next to him. “You and Fred are more different than people give you credit for.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You nodded and summoned a tissue with your wand, offering it to him with a careful hand. He took it and used it to wipe away the remnants of his tears. “Big time.”

“How so?”

“Well, your eyes are the easiest tell. Yours are tilted down a little bit. And your noses are different. And your lips have an extra dip to them that Fred’s don’t.”

He smirked a bit. “Staring at my lips, are you?”

You winked. “Only on occasion.”

He laughed, giving you a playful nudge. But then, his expression turned sullen again. “Do…do your powers happen to work on feelings?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “They don’t, I’m sorry. I’m a good listener, though.”

“I’m just worried about Ginny.” His voice cracked and tears rolled down his cheeks. “W-what if—”

“They’re going to find her, George. I can feel it.”

“If she’s hurt…” his tear-filled eyes met yours, but he didn’t finish his question, shaking his head. Your powers were a secret and he knew that. He couldn’t ask that of you, it wasn’t his place.

You looked at him and your heart melted. You pulled him into your arms, a hand stroking through his red hair comfortingly, the way he did when you were feeling down. You leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “If she’s hurt, I will heal her just like I’ve been healing you.” You hugged him tighter. “I promise.”

He gave you a grateful squeeze, surrendering to his sobs and your warmth, letting you soothe the heavy feelings weighing him down until his crying subsided to sniffles again. You really were good at making him feel better, and apparently, it did apply to more than just his injuries.

***

It was your fifth year. You and George had been dating for a little while now, a few months. As always, you were in the stands of every Quidditch game. And when Gryffindor won, as expected, you rushed down to the field with the rest of the students in the stands, hurrying to find George as quickly as you could.

You ran into Fred first, smiled at him, congratulated him on a good game, and then turned, looking for his brother. It had gotten a lot easier to find them since their growth spurt over the summer. Now, they towered over just about everybody, yourself included.

You turned around again, and found him standing right behind you. You launched yourself into his arms, giggling when he hoisted you off the ground and spun you around. You could feel through your bond that he had a bruise on his back, but that was a problem for later. “That was such a good game, Georgie! You were spectacular out there.”

“Of course I was.” He kissed your cheek and then your forehead. “I had my lucky charm up there cheering me on.” He set you back down on the ground, taking your hands in his.

Merlin, he looked so good in that uniform, especially with his longer hair all messed up from the game.

“See something you fancy?” He raised an eyebrow, admiring the lovestruck look on your face.

“You look so hot in uniform.” You murmured, your lip caught between your teeth.

His eyes sparkled and he leaned in closer. “Oh yeah, (L/N)?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed innocently. You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he quickly deepened, pulling you up to him and leaning down to meet you in the middle.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, his warm breaths ghosting across your cheeks. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he inhaled a nervous little breath.

“(Y/N), come home for Christmas with me this year.” He whispered, his sparkling eyes waiting anxiously for a reply.

“I’d love to, George.” You nodded and wrapped your arms around his muscled torso, nuzzling your face into his chest. His long arms wrapped around you and you felt his head rest against yours.

“Good, because my mum loves you and she’s been on me about it for weeks.”

“Awwwww, I love your mom.” You looked up at George and then added. “Now let’s go upstairs and fix up your bruises because damn that bludger hurt like a bitch.”

“Right. Sorry about that, love.” He took your hand and kissed it, swinging it between you as you made your way up to the common rooms.

***

When Christmas break finally came around, you were excited, but you were also a little nervous. You’d met the majority of the Weasleys, but you hadn’t seen most of them since you and George had started dating. You knew they liked you as his friend just fine, but you weren’t sure how they would feel about you as George’s girlfriend.

All your worries, however, were set aside when you stepped through the front door of the Burrow and Molly pulled you into the warmest hug, absolutely buzzing with excitement.

“George wrote me about the good news, dear! I’m so glad he finally plucked up the courage! He’s fancied you since third year and I was beginning to think he’d never get around to telling you.”

You blushed red and laughed, looking back at George for confirmation. “Third year, huh?”

He grinned guiltily, his cheeks steadily reddening. “Alright, woman, let’s not spill all my secrets just yet. She just got here.”

“Right, right, of course.” Molly let go of you. “Would you like some tea, dear?”

“Sure, thank you!” You smiled. Once she walked over towards the kettle, you looked up at George, smiling. “Third year…”

“Yeah, yeah. But I mean, could you blame me?” His eyes held so much more information than he was saying, and you appreciated the subtlety. He really was committed to keeping your secret a secret.

“I guess I am quite the catch.” You shrugged, laughing.

He slung a long arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. He kissed your temple softly before whispering, “That you are.”

The way the sleeping arrangements were, you were in Ginny’s room with Ginny and Hermione, and this had led to some playful gossip, which you, for one, loved. As an only child, you’d always wanted a sister, and Ginny and Hermione really did feel like your sisters after everything you’d all been through.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating George.” Ginny grinned, shaking her head. “I’m happy, believe me, but I can’t believe he finally asked you out. He’s been pining like a lovesick puppy for so long…”

“Oh my gosh, really?” You giggled. “That’s adorable.”

“I think it’s sweet. You always have had a special bond.” Hermione added, thinking. “It was inevitable, really.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” You nodded. “If he didn’t ask me out, I think eventually, I would have just pushed him into a wall and kissed him senseless.”

“Ew.” Ginny gagged.

“Well, I, for one, would have enjoyed it.” George piped up from the doorway, the look in his eyes soft, but with a hint of mischief. “Just came to say goodnight, love.”

You stood up and walked over to him. His Christmas pajamas were draped over his long frame, the ends of his pants not quite reaching all the way down to his ankles. Cute.

He pulled you into the hallway for a bit of privacy from the girls. Once you were out of sight, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours softly. You reciprocated just as gently.

“Merry Christmas.” He whispered, his voice deeper than usual because of how tired he was. It was indeed getting late, and you were sure that was why the next three words slipped through his perfect lips. “I love you.”

You were both quiet for a beat. He sobered up immediately, realizing what he’d just whispered, his eyes widening. He stuttered, “I…uh…”

Your heart raced and you replied, “I love you too.” You stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning into his ear to whisper, “I love you so much, George.”

His arms circled around your frame, hugging you tight as he exhaled a long sigh. “Good. It just…slipped out, but I do mean it. I love you (Y/N) (L/N). I have for a very long time.”

***

The next morning, all the Weasleys gathered around. You walked into the living room and looked around for an empty spot to sit. Luckily, there was one right next to George. It was a tight fit, but you didn’t mind being squished up next to him.

There were loads of presents in piles scattered across the floor. Molly handed you a large parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and when you opened it, there was a (favorite color) sweater inside with a giant (your initial) knitted into it. Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mrs. Weasley, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You just about cried, tears threatening to blur your vision.

“Of course, dear.” She hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head motherly. “You’re a member of the family, after all.”

And in that moment, surrounded by all of the Weasleys and Harry and Hermione, George’s hand on your knee and a proud look in his eye, you knew she was right. Being with them in the Burrow was exactly where you belonged.

***

“Alright, Fred, take a look.” You handed him a mirror and he held it up, admiring the three-leafed clover you’d painted onto his face. The Weasleys had invited you to the Quidditch World Cup with them, so currently, you were in their tent, painting the twins’ faces.

“Wicked!” He grinned. “Thanks, (Y/N)!”

“Of course.” You turned to your boyfriend. “Georgie? You want face paint?”

“Just do mine like yours, love. We can match.” He smiled softly up at you.

“Ugh,” Fred grimaced, “look what you’ve done, (L/N). You’ve turned my brother into a softy.”

“He was a softy way before I interfered.” You laughed.

George was about to protest, but you settled yourself into his lap, shutting him right up.

“Just tell me if I’m getting too close.” You whispered, dipping the brush you were using in green face paint and carefully drawing stripes on his face.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “That’s impossible, darling.”

“Eww, gross.” Fred threw a throw pillow at you, causing you both to giggle.

“Everyone ready?” Arthur asked.

“Just about.” Fred called.

You put the final touches on George’s face paint so it was identical to yours, green and white stripes on your cheeks. You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “All done.”

You got up and followed the boys out to the stadium. The game was fantastic, and you loved seeing how excited the twins got. You had never really gotten to watch Quidditch with George. Every other time you saw a game, he was the one playing in it, so it was fun to see just how riled up he got. You didn’t think it was possible to fall any further in love with him, but steadily, you were.

After the game, George could tell you were tired, so he bent down in front of you, his arms reaching out behind him. You hopped up onto his back and his arms latched under your thighs, carrying you back to the tent with ease. He set you on the couch and you watched tiredly as the twins paraded around the tent, very excited about Ireland’s win. You were sort of drifting in and out, but then George was kneeling in front of you, very serious, his eyes wide.

“Death Eaters. We have to go.”

He tugged you to your feet and you followed him, your hand clasped tightly in his larger, stronger one. You both had your wands out, and you followed Arthur’s lead until finally, you’d all made it to safety. Well, after they went back to find Harry, of course. You didn’t even realize you’d gotten hurt until you all made it back to the Burrow.

At first, you thought it was George who’d burned his hand, but when you looked down, it was your skin that was reddened and irritated.

You poked it with curious fingers and hissed at the pain. George perked up immediately, grabbing your good hand and pulling you to the kitchen after him. He placed himself so his body was a shield between you and the rest of his family, giving you privacy to heal yourself.

“Go ahead, love.” He watched you expectantly, but you shook your head, looking up at him.

“It doesn’t work like that, Georgie.” You lit your hand and held it above the burned skin, but nothing happened. “It doesn’t work on me.”

“Well that’s not fair.” He bit his lip and shook his head. He hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter, causing you to squeak at the unexpected movement. He smiled softly and pushed hair out of the front of your face, leaning in to kiss you gently. And then, he whispered, “My turn to patch you up, then, love.”

He left for a moment and returned with medical supplies. In his absence, you’d started running the burn under some cold water to stop it from hurting for a little bit. He got out some burn ointment and gauze, and once you’d dried off your hand a bit, he dabbed the ointment on gently with his careful finger. Then, he wrapped it up. You stared at him as he worked, focus evident on his handsome features and obscured only slightly by the long hair he was sporting recently.

When he was finished, he looked back up at you to find the softest look he’d ever seen gracing your face. He chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing.” You bit your lip. “Just thinking is all.”

“About what?” He pressed, mischief and love in his eyes.

“You.” You laughed to yourself. Even perched up on the counter, he still towered over you. You reached forward and tugged him closer by the fabric of his shirt. Then, as you leaned in to kiss him, you whispered, “It’s always you…”

***

“Woah…” You murmured, walking in through the front doors of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes for the first time. It was just as colorful as you’d expected it to be, knowing the wizards who had put the place together. They were especially busy today, and you hadn’t had time to stop in since you’d finally escaped Umbridge’s iron grasp and graduated. There were toys and candies and treats all over the place.

You wandered around, admiring everything until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and found yourself face to face with Fred, an amused grin on his face.

“About time you came here, (L/N). We thought you’d never pop in.”

“This place is amazing, Fred. I can’t believe you two…well, no that’s not true. You’re the most creative people I’ve ever met, of course you pulled something this spectacular off.”

“Cut it with the flattery.” Fred crossed his arms, grinning proudly. “You’re not getting the ‘dating my brother’ discount.”

“Darn.” You laughed. “Speaking of…?”

“He’s upstairs helping some customers. Should be down in a second.”

“Right here, love.” He walked down the stairs, and you had to do a double-take at the sight of him looking so sharp in his work suit, his hair spiked up away from his face.

“Wow.” You whistled, taking him in. “You look sharp.”

“We’re literally identical.” Fred looked from your lovestruck face to his twin and then back to you. “What did you think he would look like after you’ve already seen me?”

“What can I say, Freddie? I’ve just got my own charm.” George chuckled, stopping in front of you. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and raised your face to his, kissing you passionately, but briefly, for the sake of both his brother and the customers.

When you parted, you spoke softly. “You hurt your hand yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Cut my knuckle…” He admitted, looking down at you sheepishly. “Sorry, love.”

“Don’t be sorry, just let me fix it.” You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“We’ll be in the back room, Freddie.” George told him, tugging you towards the storage room.

“I won’t wait up, lovebirds.” Fred winked.

You laughed and shook your head at him. Once the door was closed behind you and George, you set to work, hand lit with magic as you healed up the tiny wound on his middle finger. You took his hand in yours and kissed the now-healed spot. “There. All better.”

“Thank you.” He pulled you into a tight hug, exhaling a sigh he’d been holding in for far too long. He hated that he didn’t get to see you every day like he used to. He hated being apart from you for days or weeks at a time. “Love, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.”

He was quiet for a beat, his arms still wrapped around you. A thought presented itself to him in his mind and he mulled it over for a beat before he blurted, “You should move in with us.”

Your heart raced. “Yeah?”

“Our flat isn’t much, but…I happen to think it would be a lot better if you were here.”

You nodded, looking up at him, your eyes sparkling. “I think so, too.”

***

And then came the fateful night when you’d found George bleeding on the couch and you’d revealed your secret to his entire family in order to heal his ear. And then, he’d proposed.

It was the morning after. You’d talked to Molly about it, and she’d had some questions. You told her you could feel George’s pain, that you were connected somehow and that because of it, you’d been healing every injury he’d had since he broke his arm third year. When she heard, she pulled you into the tightest hug and thanked you and told you how happy you’d crossed paths with George all those years before.

You were wrapped up in one of George’s sweaters. The sleeves hung far beyond your fingertips, and you were drowning in the fabric, but it was cozy and warm and it smelled like him, so you were happy.

You wandered downstairs, still a little drowsy. George was definitely more of a morning person than you were, and he was already wide awake and down in the kitchen, drinking coffee. You found him leaning against the counter, a smug look on his face and a toothbrush sticking out of his ear; the very ear you’d patched up the night before.

“Moooorning.” He drawled, his voice still extra deep from waking up.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing at the toothbrush. “Do I even wanna know?”

“Just making sure it still works, love.” He grinned, pulling the toothbrush out of his ear and setting it on the counter.

“How did I do, by the way?” You walked up closer to get a better look. There was one chunk in the middle of his outer ear that was missing, but the skin was healed and closed up, and you weren’t getting any pain through the bond you shared, so you weren’t sure how much more you could do for him. “Aww, I missed a bit.”

“I’m pretty sure I lost that when it happened. Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, his eyes soft. “It’s because of you I even still have this ear at all.”

“You’re all dressed up early.” You noted, looking at him in his suit. Bill and Fleur’s wedding was today, but you were nowhere near ready.

“I have to set up the tent with dad in a bit.” He explained. He set down his coffee and opened his arms.

You caved, walking closer to him and wrapping your arms around him, curling into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, stroking through your hair, a smile on his face. “How’s my fiancé doing today?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you hugged him tighter, your cheeks flushed red. “So much better, now.”

“It’ll be our wedding next, love.”

“I’m gonna cry.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you were overcome with the emotion of everything that was happening. You were engaged to a man you’d been in love with since you were thirteen and you couldn’t have been happier about it. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

George wiped the tear from your cheek and pulled you in for a long kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you either.”

***

The battle was intense. Spells were slinging every which way. Explosions sounded, the castle crumbled, and you watched as your friends fought for their lives against the Death Eaters determined to strike them down.

You’d been separated from George about twenty minutes before, but you hadn’t felt any pain through your bond, so you weren’t as concerned as you would be if you knew something was happening out of your sight.

You spent most of the battle patching people up as quietly and privately as you could manage. If the Death Eaters knew you were a healer, you knew they’d kill you immediately. You were too valuable to the wizards you cared about.

You had your wand out, slinging spells at whatever Death Eaters you could, disarming them and flinging their wands into oblivion. You ran through the violent halls, keeping an eye out for George and watching for anyone who needed help.

You spotted Fred and Percy and you made your way closer to them.

It was then that the explosion went off.

The walls crumbled, and Fred collapsed. You sprinted to him as fast as you could, diving onto the floor. Percy walked over, panic evident on his face.

Your heart sank. Fred wasn’t breathing. And yet, kneeling over him, you could still feel a zing in his chest. Maybe it was your powers, or maybe it was what you were always meant to do, the reason you’d been connected with George, but you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt: you had to save Fred Weasley.

You tucked your wand into your pocket and raised both of your hands, lighting them with the brightest golden healing music you could muster. You focused on the zing still hovering in his chest. It was fainter than it had been a few seconds before. You didn’t have much time, and you knew that.

“Percy, cover us. I can save him, but I have to work quickly.”

“On it.” Percy nodded, putting his back to yours and raising his wand while you pushed every ounce of power you had into the middle of Fred’s chest.

You stayed there for a long time, your hands glowing, Percy slinging spells to protect you and his dying little brother. Finally, after what felt like eternities, Fred’s chest rose and fell and rose and fell. You kept pushing, intense focus in every move you made, every breath you took.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at you, confused.

“What’s going on?” he asked weakly.

“You died.” You replied, still pushing energy into his chest. “But George needs a best man at our wedding, so that’s not an option.”

He chuckled hoarsely. “Well, thank you, for the record.”

“Don’t mention it til I’m finished.” You kept at it, watching as the color returned to his cheeks. “Just keep breathing for me, Weasley.”

“I can do that.”

You kept radiating energy into Fred, and as you did, you felt blood drip from your nostril, the world starting to spin around you. You stopped.

Fred sat up, looking at you with wide eyes. “Hey now, breathe for me, (L/N).”

You nodded, your blinks getting longer. Then, all at once, you slumped over, the world going black.

***

You woke up in a pair of strong arms, held against a shaking chest, droplets of water dripping down onto your face. A pair of lips kissed your forehead over and over, and a familiar voice murmured, “I’m so sorry, love. So, so sorry…” He sobbed. “I should have been there…”

“Georgie, why are you crying?” You asked softly, looking up at him.

He froze, going quiet. He looked down and met your gaze, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pulled you into a more upright position, just about crushing you against his chest. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He exhaled a long sigh. “You…you weren’t breathing, and I thought…”

“We all thought…” Fred met your gaze over George’s shoulder, guilt all over his face.

Looking up, you found yourself surrounded by Weasleys, who, until a few moments ago, thought you were dead.

You pulled away from George’s neck to get a better look at his face. You cupped his cheek with a gentle hand and rested your forehead against his. “I’m not going anywhere.” You kissed him softly before adding, “You’re stuck with me, Weasley.”

He couldn’t hold in his tears when he finished, “Gee, real shame that is.”

You wrapped your arms around him and tugged him closer. He held you like it was the last time he would ever get to. Your hand rose to run through his hair.

“I’m right here,” you whispered, trying to comfort him. “I’m right here, George. I love you so much…”

***

After the battle, once the dust had settled and Voldemort was dead once and for all, you’d volunteered to help clean up. George and Fred had accompanied you, wanting to help out however they could, so the three of you were currently fixing the collapsed walls.

“I didn’t know you could bring dead people back to life.” Fred said, looking down the hallway to the remains of the very wall that had taken him out.

“Neither did I.” You chuckled, waving your wand at the rubble and watching as it floated back into place, repairing as though it had never been broken in the first place. “But I knew I couldn’t let you die.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Fred laughed. “I owe you whatever sweets you want from the shop for the rest of our lives.”

“Deal.”

Once the hallway was all fixed up, George took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Do you want to take a walk with me, love?”

“Yeah, I could use some air.” You nodded. “See you in a bit, Fred.”

Fred gave George a knowing look that went over your head. You followed George through the castle and then out the doors and down towards the lake. It was a beautiful day, just chilly enough to warrant George’s oversized sweater draped over your frame. The sky was blue and there was a gentle breeze. Even the lake was serene, occasional ripples disturbing the clear surface.

Once you stopped walking, George took his hand out of yours. He took a breath and you looked up at him, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.

“My mum…found this. It was my grandmother’s. I figured I should do this properly.” George said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little velvet box.

You covered your mouth, tears fogging your vision as he got on one knee, opening the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen.

“(Y/N) (L/N), over these past four years, you’ve made me the happiest wizard in the world. Will you marry me?”

And once again, you replied, “Yes. Of course I will marry you, George Weasley.”

***

“Are we all ready in here, ladies?” A tall red-haired wizard popped his head into Ginny’s room, where you and the others were getting ready.

“George! Get out of here! It’s bad luck!” Molly started scolding, but stopped abruptly. “Sorry, Fred. Yes, we’re all ready.”

“And you call yourself our mother…” Fred shook his head, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Where’s the lady of the hour?”

“Right here.” You stood from the makeshift vanity and turned to face your fiancé’s twin.

He took you in, letting out a low whistle. “You’re gonna make Georgie cry.”

“That was the goal.” Ginny smiled, adjusting your veil.

You looked in the mirror one last time, fiddling with the silk fabric of your skirt, and then you followed Fred and the others down the stairs. It was going to be a simple ceremony. Remus Lupin was officiating. It would just be your friends and family in attendance. Quite honestly, you would have married George Weasley on your front porch with only the mailman as a witness. You loved him endlessly, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

You followed the procession of bridesmaids and groomsmen. Your father walked you down the aisle, and as soon as George laid eyes on you, his breath caught in his throat and tears fogged up his vision. There she was. His wife. His beautiful wife who he’d been in love with for six years.

When you finally got to him, he gently lifted the veil off of your face, studying your features as though he’d be tested on them later.

“Hey there, love.” He whispered, trying to dispel his own nerves along with yours.

“Hey.” You whispered back, smiling softly.

Remus started the ceremony and you said your vows and exchanged your rings and then, finally, you kissed him. George’s hands framed your cheeks and he met you in the middle, kissing you passionately.

When the two of you parted, he whispered, “What now, Mrs. Weasley?”

“Now, Mr. Weasley…” you slipped both of your hands into his and gave them a squeeze, “we get started on the rest of our forever.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george #george x reader #george imagine #hp #hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine

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vixenpen · 4 years

Text

youtube

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

#bnha headcanons #black writers #mha headcanons #bnha #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #self insert #bnha smut #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bakugo smut #boku no hero academia #Youtube

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Miracle On 37th Street

Summary: Time doesn’t heal all wounds, sometimes it just drives them into our bones and festers there, until forgiveness is a four letter word, and it’s to late for second chances.

Part two of: Merry Christmas Sweetheart

Warnings: Language, fluff, mentions of past heartbreak, multiple viewpoints, I think that’s about everything for this one. It’s pretty much flooff lol.

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo and also for @deanwanddamons 2k celebration! Congrats again hun!

Square Field: Coming Home For Christmas

Prompte: You had me at hello

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2802

A/N: This fic was beta’d by the lovely @miss-nerd95! Thanks again love!! Also fun fact. There really is a 37th street they deck out in Austin, Texas every year for Christmas. It’s pretty awesome, look it up. Please don’t copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one!

**MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

Jensen’s POV:

To say that sleep had evaded Jensen was an understatement. All he could think about was you and the hurt in your eyes when you turned away from him for the very last time, and stepped out into the cold. It haunted him. Seeping into his subconscious, and turning into nightmares of blinding snow, and him calling your name, but never being able to find you, you were always just out of reach.

At around three in the morning he’d given up on sleeping all together and decided it was time to revisit the bottle of perfectly aged Royal Salute he kept for nights just like this. He did note that he’d been seeing this particular friend a lot more since him and Danneel decided it was time to stop fooling themselves and move on to at least try and be happy; but he was way too stressed and heartbroken to worry about his drinking habits right now.

A quick glance outside his bedroom window told him that there was no way in hell you were flying out to New York before Christmas. It had to be the biggest snow storm Austin had seen in years, and he knew for sure all flights were probably gonna be grounded well after next year began.

He didn’t know what the hell he expected of you. Why did he think that you'd just fall at his feet after over 10 years of him being a dick and rubbing his marriage directly on your wounds? Fat chance. You were stronger than that, always were stronger than he was. He was a coward when he ran from his feelings all those years ago, and he was still a coward now, hiding three glasses deep in his whiskey and alone.

He couldn’t let you go back to New York without telling how he really felt for what felt like the millionth time in a row, it would kill him. He had hoped placing the little box on Steve’s door step would be enough. That you’d find it, and maybe you’d see how serious he was. Sitting here without anyone around, now he knew that was just a shot in the dark, so he picked up his phone and tried to call Steve to retrieve it for him, but his phone just went to voicemail.

That started a whole new set of worries for Jensen. What if you were with Steve? What if you had gone to bed with him? Seeking comfort from a long standing friend that you were never able to get from him?

“Goddammit!” Jensen yelled to the echoing and empty room around him, throwing his phone across the room before running his fingers through his hair harshly, trying to literally pull the cruel images his mind had placed there of you and his best friend together out by the roots.

He had to go get that ring. If you saw it, it would only make things worse either with you and him or for you and Steve. It was a heartbroken and desperate move that he shouldn’t have made, he should've known better than that. He wasn’t drunk, and it wasn't like anyone would be on the streets in this weather. It was very unlikely for whatever the reason that the two of you were awake still, and it wasn’t like Steve lived that far from him.

Grabbing his coat and boats Jensen raced to the car through the cold, still steadily falling snow, scrapping the window as quickly as he could, and sliding inside to start the heater so that he could defrost the window enough to back out onto the ice and snow covered road.

Once he was inside the safety of the car with the heater and defrost going full blast he saw something as he backed out onto the street that made him halt his movements. The small star christmas lights that were hanging on the pole that the town workers placed every year twinkled at him like a small little beacon of hope against the falling snow. It hit him then, the perfect plan to get you talk to him. The time he couldn't mess this up. This was his last chance. Step one was to go get those rings before either Steve or your found them. Then he’d set the rest up in the morning.

Readers POV:

“Steve, it’s cold out here. Why the sudden interest in Christmas lights?” you whined at your friend as he pulled you from the warmth of the car, and started to walk down the crowded street through the mass of people heading towards Austin’s main Christmas attraction. The lights on 34th street.

You couldn’t deny it was beautiful, and something you hadn’t seen in person in a decade or so, but right now you just weren’t in the mood. You’d spent most of last night pissed at Steve for letting Jensen pick you up from the airport when he damn well knew why you left for New York in the first place, and two-seeing hurt you caused in the green eyes you loved as you slammed the car door in his face before going into Steve’s house had not given you the feelings of acceptance, revenge and that you could finally move on that you had hoped for.

After you had ripped Steve a new one and drank enough alcohol between the two of you to numb you broken and bleeding heart a little, you had decided to just fly home and cancel your interview with the client that had yet to return your calls since you landed in Austin; only to find out that there would be no flights out of any of the local airports until after the New Year. Texas just wasn’t used to this kind of weather, and it had effectively put you home for Christmas for the first time in years, whether you wanted to be here or not.

“Come on, it’s the first year you’ve been actually home for Christmas in over a decade Y/N, it will be fun, you used to love going to look at the Christmas lights on 37th Street.”

You grumbled under your breath as Steve lead you to the little street booth that was set up to sell hot chocolate and cookies, letting him buy you a warm drink to help fight against the bitter cold before leading you to sit down at one of the little tables a little further away from everyone else on the street.

“Wait here, I’ve got to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” he said once you were settled, disappearing before you could argue about being left here alone amongst the bustling crowd of strangers. You glare at his retreating back and curse his bladder before looking down into your steaming cup of hot chocolate, taking a sip of the warm liquid and humming at the hot, sweetness as it hits your taste buds.

The street was beautiful. There were twinkling lights and decorations everywhere, it looked a little bit like a little piece of the North Pole had dropped itself right down in the middle of Texas. You had forgotten how nice it was this time of year around here. The little shops on full decorated display, and everyone seemed to just about know everyone by name, almost like in the movies that play on those crappy hallmark channels. It was sweet, and even if you were hell bent on avoiding it due to a certain someone, it was still home. This was the first time you’d missed the simpler, slower pace in a long time. You didn’t know if it was the nostalgia in the air or if it was the season itself, but this was the closest you had felt to at home in years.

“This seat taken?” A deep, smooth baritone voice asked from across the table, and your eyes met the green gaze that had been haunting you like an old ghost of your past all night long, that wounded look which tugged at your heart strings buried not so deep under the surface of his soft gaze.

“No,” you answer shortly, afraid to see those pathetic eyes that he’d given you when you left him last night.

Jensen gave you a stiff smile and slid into the seat across the small table. Looking around at the passing people who seemed to all but ignore their local celebrity like seeing him was just another Tuesday for them.

“It’s beautiful down here this time of year isn’t it?” he asked, eyes shifting over the glittering sparkling decorations that were still hung with a small bit of snow that lingered on them, only making them shine brighter against the night sky.

“What do you want Jensen,” you asked him, cutting right to the point. “I was pretty sure we said all we had to say to each other yesterday.”

Jensen sat up a little straighter in his seat, and looked down at his hands that were folded on the table in front of him before meeting your gaze again.

“That’s just it, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but scared all the same, letting all his emotions be out on full display for you to see. Not hiding anything at all. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it open and honest for the first time in his life, no matter how much that scared him. “You said a lot, and what you said was valid, but sweetheart I still have a lot I need you to hear.”

You swallowed around the lump of nothing in your throat, but didn’t trust your voice to work, so you just stared at him and waited. Not getting a response out of you, Jensen sat up a little straighter and dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box and sliding it across the table at you.

You stared at it suspiciously before meeting his gaze wearily.

“You wanted to give me a present?” you ask him a little dumbfounded and he chuckled darkly before sitting back and shoving his hands into his pockets, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yeah, you can say that,” he said, guestering for you to open it with a nod of his head.

Slowly, hesitatingly you picked up the box with shaking hands and began to unwrap it by pulling the little ribbon on top carefully before removing the lid. Inside lay two wedding rings, a broader and bigger one which was definitely for a man and another a gorgeous feminine wedding ring.

You looked up at him in confusion before taking the small, golden band in your hand and turning it, reflections of the twinkling lights above you making it shine.

“Jensen, I don’t understand,” you tell him honestly, and this time when you met his gaze there were tears there, burning his eyes a little redder just below the surface that he wouldn’t allow to fall. You swore your heart broke all over again.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said, his voice deeper and rougher than you were used to. You just sat there in silence sensing there was a lot more to this story.

“I hurt you. I did you as wrong as I could go, and I’m really sorry. I used you as a safety net, knowing damn good and well what you felt for me, but I was to afraid of the way you made me feel to ever act on what I should have and instead listen to people that didn’t know shit; people that said she’d be a better fit than you for me.”

Realization hit you, along with a flood of tears that seemed to fall of their own free will as you dropped Jensen’s wedding band into the box and sat it down in the middle of the table as if it were on fire. “Jensen I…”

“Baby please let me finish. Then you can tell me to go to hell, or fuck off for good, but let me do this,” he cut you and you bit down hard on your lip as his own tears started to fall down his perfect face. “Before you even say it, no, you were not the reason I left Danneel. She and I were not good for each other, we were both unhappy, and we both deserved to have something better. She didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did I.”

You nod to show him that you understood, even if your head was reeling like you were drunk . You could just sense he needed the encouragement to keep going, and you saw him breath a small sigh of relief before he continued.

“I tried to love her, I swear I did, but no matter what I did or how hard I tried it always came back to you. You may not realize it, maybe I hid it too well, but sweetheart you had me at hello. You asked me last night if I missed you at the altar, and through all these years of milestones I shared with someone else, or even when I was with her. Baby girl, you were always my first thought in the morning and the last one I had before I went to sleep at night.”

Jensen moved his chair a bit closer to you, taking your hand in his and holding your gaze.

“The night you left I damn near drank myself to death, and I couldn’t even tell Danneel why. She deserves someone who could give her their whole heart. Mine always belonged to you sweetheart. I know I'm asking for a lot, but if you’d let me, I want to try and make up for all these years I’ve wasted. Years I should have given to you. I loved you then, Y/N, and I still do. Now if you can look at me and tell me you feel nothing for me anymore and walk away I wont try and contact you again, but baby please, please let me do now what I should have done all those years ago. I wanna be yours, if you'll have me.”

You stared at him in complete disbelief for a moment as your mind tried to wrap around his confession. You were numb, but this time not from heartbreak, but shock. You never knew. He’d hidden it all so well. You never knew he had feelings for you at all, and now here he was, asking for a chance. Something you had never even let yourself dream that would happen, and all you could do was cry and he made his way to his knees in the cold snow in front of you, tears of his own falling freely down his wretchedly beautiful face.

“Please sweetheart, I know this is overwhelming. I know it’s a lot to process, but baby, I’m not above begging, not when it comes to you. Say something. I was the client you were supposed to meet. I was trying to get you down here to me so I could ask for another chance with you. I’m putting everything I have on the line for you here, and it’s all for you. Please”

His eyes showed years of hurt that you were all so familiar with, and all you could do was shake your head and say, “okay.”

It was all he seemed to need, standing to his feet in front of you, he pulled you up to him, lips meeting yours for the very first time in all the years you had known each other. It was deep, and held so much feeling that it knocked you breathless for a moment. When he pulled away from you, Steve was standing next to you two with a smirk on his face and his arms folded across his chest.

“About goddamn time,” he said, smiling at the two of you, you still nestled in Jensen’s strong embrace as snow started to flurry around you again. This time though it didn’t feel quite as cold.

“He’s got a lot of making up to do,” you tell Steve, looking up to meet Jensen's soft stare. He looked as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders, and you could have sworn he looked years younger standing there in front of you.

“Baby, I look forward to it, won't let you down now” he told you, brushing his lips against your own once more, sealing a promise of forever, and renewing your faith that miracles did happen, even in the most unexpected place, and even when we think that they never will.

You just have to keep your eyes, ears and heart open.

Forever Tags:

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles one shot #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spnchristmasbingo #x reader inserts #spn fanficiton #spn fanfic #spn one shot #jawritter #deanwanddemons2kcelebration

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mickstart · 4 years

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what do you think are some iconic/memorable schumi moments? i just got into f1 and would like to know more about him bc somehow i can’t really find anything like that about him.... just stats which are incredibly impressive but i can’t find anything about how he behaved or just anything about his personality..... thanks <3

:) Hi anon, thank you for unleashing the beast.

Ok I love you for asking me this thank you SO MUCH. Welcome to the circus I’m glad you’re here! Also yeah, Schumi is often talked about in terms of statistics and not as a human, Which is a shame bc like! Schumi is fascinating and the dynamics on the grid in late 90s F1 is so much fun! Also, this is mainly going to be late 90s -> early 2010s stuff bc I was born in 98 so uhhh I didn’t properly witness ANY 90s stuff and had to learn about it.

OK so I got super carried away but I’ve divided this into 3 sections: Drives/races that I think showcase some of his talents, human moments we need to talk about more, and Chaotic Little Bitch moments. The key thing to remember w/ Schumi is that he personally tends to be nice but as soon as you put him in a competition, Bastard Mode activates like a cat’s pupils going wide.

I am so sorry for the following short essay. Also some crashes are briefly mentioned but only ones with absolutely no injuries and there’s no details.

Chaotic Little Bitch Moments

Schumi debuted as a SUBSTITUTE driver for Jordan when one of their drivers was in police custody (yes. really.) The highest a Jordan had qualified all year was 10th and in his DEBUT at SPA, one of the toughest tracks, in the middle of the season, Schumi qualified that Jordan 7th! THEN his clutch failed before the first lap was even complete, but Benetton and Jordan WENT TO COURT to fight each other to sign him for their team before the next race in Monza. He couldn’t debut normally he HAD to cause a scene and set the tone.

The Red Strings of Fate: He qualified 7th, his iconic 7 starred helmet, his first victory next year was ALSO at Spa - his first complete race would be at Monza, Ferrari Holy Ground, and he finished 5th which 👀 1) he was immediately racing with The Greats. 2) Mr 5 Championships With Ferrari.

Winning a race by taking a stop and go penalty on the last lap, crossing the finish line in the pits, and making such a complicated argument about said penalty that in a hearing that was SUPPOSED to be Mclaren protesting the race result the stewards scrapped the entire penalty and the 3 who awarded it handed in their licenses??? Iconic.

Austria 2002 where Rubens was ordered to give the win to Michael. And then Michael fucking made him stand on the top step on the podium like “oh no no no RUBENS deserves this” and made a big SHOW out of it and its like “Michael stop you’re not making it heartwarming you’re making it WORSE Michael STOP” The Tension of germany 2010 podium VS the theatricality of THIS podium.

Team orders were banned because of this which also makes this indirectly responsible for Fernando Is Faster Than You having to be a coded message. You can’t escape him,

Blocking Alonso in Monaco qualifying and then, years later in 2010, overtaking Alonso technically illegally at Monaco (the race was ending under safety car, but the safety car doesn’t lead them over the line it pits and they’d crossed the safety car line and the regulations were NOT specific about the rules) and getting a 20 second penalty bc Damon Hill was a steward. Haunting FERNANDO specifically at Monaco like the ghost of christmas past? Getting a harsh penalty because ANOTHER driver he’d fucked over was a steward? Forcing the FIA to rewrite the rulebook to account for his nonsense when he was in his FOURTIES? I don’t know another chaos king.

Winning the 1995 championship by crashing into Damon Hill, getting AWAY with it for some reason, and then trying to do the same thing in 1997 to Villeneuve, failing to do so and simply rebounding off of him harmlessly, almost COMICALLY, and beaching his own car in a gravel trap at which point the FIA said “I have had ENOUGH of you Wacky Races Man!” and disqualified him from the entire championship

Forcing Mika off the track so bad at Spa 2000 that Mika realized the only way he was gonna be able to get past him was to re-invent the overtake and go for it whilst they were passing a backmarker. (The overtake itself is at 2:05 in the video but the build up to it is Important bc the key part it’s not just badass, it only happened bc Mika knew who he was dealing with.)

Spa 1998 was a Ridiculously Chaotic race it truly was the Mugello 2020 of its year, and after a crash at the start that took out almost the entire grid Schumi accidentally collided with Coulthard later in the race. (The teams used to have a spare car at every race then, so the race was able to continue after a restart.) This wasn’t a racing thing, Coulthard was getting lapped. So something in Schumi SNAPS, and he storms down the pitlane and tries to fight Coulthard while the mclaren and ferrari mechanics both hold him back and finally drag him away. He projected into the future, saw Coulthard was gonna talk non-stop shit about Seb, and acted accordingly.

Monaco 2012 Pole don’t talk to me about this I still can’t believe the audacity of this man to get the only pole of his comeback, at MONACO, at the ONE RACE where he had a 5 place grid penalty to take!!

In general, I know Cheating Bad but. I HAVE to admire the brainpower it must take to have the rulebook so memorized that whilst driving an F1 car Schumi could spot a loophole the size of the eye of a needle and then dance through it, forcing the FIA to add ANOTHER page to the rule book specially for him bc nobody else even REALISED that loophole existed.

Human Moments

A quick rant about Mika and Schumi’s entire friendship. After Spa 2000 Mika goes up to Michael, says something like “Don’t ever do that again” then they’re friends again. They had this mutual understanding that Racing was not Reality. This goes all the way back to their F3 days they were rivals AND friends for their entire career. They truly were the Sewis of the era if Sebastian was like 50% more evil. Their entire dynamic is “You’re the only motherfucker in this pit lane who can handle me”. Schumi would do some bullshit and every other driver would throw up their hands in frustration and Mika would just go “Okay” and drive better to put him in his place bc he was the only one who could keep up, and Schumi very visibly LOVED that he’s grinning after Mika owns his entire ass with that overtake at Spa. They were unstoppable force meets immovable object and I’m so sad their rivalry isn’t more talked about bc the way Mika is the only driver who can get him to behave like a normal human being is SO entertaining.

This is a sad one so I won’t link it but he started crying in the 2000 Monza press-conference with his brother and Mika when he equaled one of Senna’s records. The press kept trying to ask questions about it and Mika just has this death grip on his shoulder and tries to get them to stop or let them take a break and it’s so sad but also important to know about.

Once said he didn’t want Mick to race in F1 bc the pressure of his name would put Mick under so much stress and he wanted his son to be happy. (He fully supported Mick in his endeavors! But only after making absolutely sure it was what Mick wanted, and making sure he knew he could just race for fun if he wanted and it didn’t have to be F1)

This whole interview just after Mick was born with the Schumacher family. Special shout out to Gina on his head the entire video and also Corinna talking to the press while Michael is captivated by Mick. Me too Michael.

Once allegedly pleaded to take a stray kitten home from the track?

I reblogged this yesterday but. Sticking like glue to Sebastian at an F1 test and immediately being like “This is my new son he’s gonna go far”. There’s a lot of pictures out there also of Michael being a guest at the karting races Seb went to as a kid and baby Seb visibly losing his fucking mind at being given a trophy by his idol. Every day of my life I think about him trying to ruffle Seb’s hair through his helmet at Brazil 2012

WInning the championship in 2000. Him thanking the entire team individually and pausing mid-celebration to kiss his wife Corinna so tenderly it’s in the F1 opening. Also, the way it literally cuts from the rest of McLaren looking like they’re attending a funeral to Mika grinning at him and hugging him fucking SENDSSSSS me.

Schumi was a little shit in all the 2010-12 press conferences like, lowering Lewis’ chair, playing with a microphone wire, but ESPECIALLY corrupting baby Seb and getting him to mess with Nico Rosberg.

He’s just GOOFY! Like I refuse to let him be remembered as a terrifying force of nature he was so goofy kind of similarly to Seb. PLEASE watch this incredibly awkward interview he did with Coulthard on a golf buggy where they both had to pretend they hadn’t thought about murdering each other at least once. I think Sky F1 should force Brocedes to do this when covid’s over. “Do you mind if I drive?” “Yes.”

EDIT: I CANNOT BELIEVE I forgot the 1999 Canada press conference where Eddie Irvine and Mika Hakkinen get into a water fight and Schumi immediately grabs a towel and hides behind it and is like “I had NOTHING to do with it” 🥺 adorable, actually

A lot of people at Ferrari, including Rob Smedley (who was on the other side of the garage with Felipe Massa so not in his inner circle) have said that a lot of the success of the team came from Schumi’s LEADERSHIP more than anything, that he’d make the team get together to bond all the time. When Schumi moved to Ferrari in 1996 they were NOT dominant. He did the same thing Lewis did - went to a team that everybody said would be a huge mistake and helped build them up behind the scenes.

THIS bit of the Canada 2011 Rewind where his engineer gives him the strategy and he’s like “... OkaAaAaAay?” and then when it turns out to be the wrong strategy he cheerfully tells them it’s too late. Little shit.

Speaking of Mercedes I also wanna say that like. They were a MESS in 2012 and his car DNF’d because of a failing on their part MULTIPLE times. (In Canada qualifying his DRS was stuck open and they couldn’t close it.) He did not say a single bad word about them EVER even though the press used this to attack him non-stop as washed-up and bad without Ferrari to cheat for him. At Ferrari he was the exact same with the team, any bastard antics Schumi had for his rivals did not extend to the engineers and crew.

OK this one is soured bc Top Gear is trash BUT if you were like, a kid in England who followed motorsports? Schumi’s fake reveal as The Stig on Top Gear was like the coolest, sickest thing,

Please view this image of Schumi and Mika when they were young and stupid

Iconic Races

ok so I have limited myself to a few races that show off some of his key strengths!

Hungary 1998 / France 2004 - STRATEGY/SPEED - Schumi switched to a 3 stop strategy in 98 and a FOUR STOP strategy in 04 and won both races. In order for the strategy call to work he’d have to basically make every single lap a qualifying style ‘flying lap’ and you best fucking believe he DID THAT. God I fucking miss when Ferrari was the king of strategy.

Argentina 1998 - has it all. Talent, battling Mika, pit lane mind games with mclaren, and bullying coulthard xxx

Spain 1996 / a majority of the wet races - RAIN - One of Schumi’s nicknames was Rain Master bc he was so fucking good in the wet. If it started raining and you were a Schumi stan you were cackling evilly before the red lights even went out. I single out 1996 bc it was his first win for Ferrari and it was unexpected but in most wet races, even Canada 2011 post comeback, you can see Schumi thriving.

Malaysia 1999 - Schumi missed pretty much the entire second half of the season with a broken leg, came back for the last 2 races with everybody murmuring about whether he would struggle, and immediately put the Ferrari on pole. Also worth noting is that he was the number 2 driver for these 2 races bc his teammate Irvine was fighting Mika for the championship and he went along with that without complaint, allowing Ferrari to win the constructor’s championship if not the driver’s.

Monza 2002, 03, 04, or 06 just because it has the energy of the tifosi kneeling at the feet of an idol to their red god.

Brazil 2006 - Fuck All Y’all - Schumi’s last race for Ferrari. He got a puncture and ended up almost lapped, and then drove his way back from that to 4th bc he couldn’t go out without reminding us he’s a bad bitch.

Monza 2012 - Defending - Don’t tell F1 Twitter that there’s actual footage of Lewis and Michael having a genuine lengthy battle on track but DO watch Michael defending like a motherfucker and Lewis breathing down his neck for half the race we need to talk about this more.

Valencia 2012 - This isn’t necessarily anything special but I cried in my living room over the only podium of his comeback so it goes on here. It doesn’t have the same impact if you haven’t been watching him struggle with the car for years, DNF-ing from car failure most of 2012, and having BBC F1 telling you he’s washed up every single weekend, but you can just enjoy one of the best drives of FERNANDO’S entire career as he DRAGS that Ferrari by its hair to a home grand prix win and then watch the crowds embrace him like jesus and also Schumi being happy on the podium. Also, the very start of this clip from the press conference: him forgetting what language he’s supposed to be speaking

Basically, Schumi was a hyper-competitive ambitious bitch who turned into a goofball as soon as he switched the engine off. This is by NO MEANS everything if I was making an exhaustive best races guide I’d do more research and another post but I hope this is what you were looking for?? THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me go MAXIMUM SPECIAL INTEREST and I apologize.

#asks #Schumi #Mika #Alonso #long post #god I'm so fucking sorry #Anonymous #This is not comprehensive bc I didn't want to accidentally turn this into a whole research project especially if you're new to it!

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