#and i think it does pair well with bed friends the series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonginsleftcheek · 9 months ago

Text

Dolly II

~ part 2 of the Dolly series

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: smut, college au

synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.

wc: 7.7k

warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering

a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕

~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sleepless night.

Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.

Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.

As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.

"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.

You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.

"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.

"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.

How the fuck did it hear you?

Did they hack your laptop?

You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.

With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.

You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.

The room is totally spinning.

You are totally spinning.

You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.

You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.

They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.

"What?" you almost bark at them.

"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.

"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.

Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.

"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.

The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.

The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.

"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.

"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.

Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.

Shrugging, you make your way to your room.

Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.

One, two, three...

And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.

"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.

Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.

"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.

"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."

"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.

"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.

"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.

"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.

"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.

"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.

"Well, the six of us got some money together."

"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.

"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.

"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.

"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.

You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.

You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.

"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.

Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.

He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.

He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.

Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.

His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.

You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.

He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.

You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.

You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.

Hello,

my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.

I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.

Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.

"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.

A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.

My cutie!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.

"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.

"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.

You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.

"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.

You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.

You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.

"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.

Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.

It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?

Maybe even more important, why?

After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.

Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!

"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.

Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.

"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.

"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.

Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.

Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.

Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.

"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.

Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.

It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.

Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."

Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.

"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.

"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.

You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.

"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.

It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.

You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.

Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.

"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.

"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.

For some reason, you think he might be frowning.

"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."

The doll is quiet.

"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.

"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.

After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.

As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.

It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.

It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.

Maybe it was just in your mind.

Yeah, probably.

Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.

"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.

"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.

"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.

"Feeling territorial, are we?"

"N-no!" you blush instantly.

"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.

You sigh and make your way to your room too.

"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.

As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.

You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.

"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.

Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.

"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.

You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.

Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.

For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.

You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.

"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.

Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.

Oh no.

Your favorite shirt is gone.

You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.

Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.

You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.

"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"

"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."

"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.

"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.

Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.

You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.

Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.

"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.

He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.

"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.

It was only the beginning.

A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.

You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.

You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.

Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.

Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.

It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.

Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.

In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.

Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.

Seungmin.

Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.

After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.

Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.

"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.

"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.

"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.

You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?

Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.

He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.

"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.

His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.

His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.

You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.

You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.

You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.

"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.

You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.

Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.

This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.

You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.

You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.

"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.

"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.

"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.

You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.

"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.

Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.

"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.

You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.

There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.

With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.

"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.

"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.

After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.

Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.

You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.

All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.

It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.

Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.

You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.

A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.

Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.

For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.

You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.

You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.

And you were right.

Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.

You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.

He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.

He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.

Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.

The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.

I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.

"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.

A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.

Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.

He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.

Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.

He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.

Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.

He loves you.

So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.

He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.

Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.

With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.

You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.

"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.

You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.

Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.

He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.

His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.

"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.

"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.

You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.

"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.

"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.

"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.

"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."

"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.

"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."

"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.

"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.

"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.

"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.

"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.

He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.

Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.

You held him tighter, making him melt into you.

Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.

"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.

"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.

"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.

"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.

He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.

All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.

"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.

He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.

You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.

Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.

"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.

"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.

You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.

"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.

"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.

The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.

He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.

Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.

Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.

When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.

"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.

He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.

He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.

Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.

"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.

"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.

"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.

"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.

"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.

"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.

He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.

"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.

All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.

You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.

You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.

You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.

"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.

"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.

You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.

"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.

You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.

"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.

"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.

Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.

You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.

His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.

"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.

"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes." you say, breathless.

Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.

"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.

"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.

"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.

Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.

You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.

Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.

"What the fuck?!"

"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.

"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.

"I woke up-"

"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.

"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.

"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.

"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."

"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.

"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.

Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.

"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.

Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.

"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.

"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.

"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.

Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.

He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.

Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.

As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.

All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.

The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.

Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.

After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.

"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.

"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.

"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.

"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.

"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.

"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.

He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.

"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.

"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.

"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.

You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.

You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.

Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.

"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.

You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.

You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.

"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.

It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.

Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.

You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.

You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.

You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.

"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.

Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.

Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.

"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.

He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.

"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.

"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.

"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.

Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.

He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.

You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.

When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.

"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.

Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.

"Let it." he begs.

"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.

"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"

"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.

"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"

"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.

"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.

"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.

"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.

"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"

"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."

"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.

"But-"

"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.

"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.

But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.

Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.

With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.

As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.

The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...

~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy @gwinamsgirlfriend @sofix-hc7 @poptrim @queerpumpkinnn @redlikemysoul @hyunjinslefteyebrow @frehyun @minluvly @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @sushiinmidnight @rei-reia @thequibbie @sblack91511915 @channiesfavitem @edevotion @leeknowinggg @charlieg1rl @spookwyrdie @estella-novella @alaskaortiga @hyunjinsruinedpainting @lucywindigo @miniverse-zen @sky00ung @rosekpopfanfic @maysoka @pixiiebutt @beaquokka @bookswillfindyouaway @cosmicrecs @seungiee-3 @blrzzz @minniesverse @o-0i @lee-knows-cats @ms-flowergirl @hyunjinhoexxx @lattyjiji @onlyleeknowsss @courtnort455 @qwonyoung23 @oreoqueen @nightmarenyxx @hongtyong @lashaemorow @1810cl

3K notes · View notes

ilovolderman · 1 month ago

Text

Caught on Camera

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Sam drags you and Bucky to stakeout duty and tries to expose your secret relationship.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, mild language

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". it doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13. thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

You knew this stakeout was doomed from the moment Sam brought a whiteboard.

Not a mini dry-erase board. Not a tablet with a stylus. An actual, full-sized, collapsible, wheeled whiteboard.

Bucky stared at it. “Why does that have string on it?”

Sam clicked a marker with the flair of someone about to unravel a conspiracy or get tackled mid-presentation. “Because it’s time,” he said ominously, “to connect the dots.”

You closed your eyes. “Oh no.”

“Don’t ‘oh no’ me. You two have been weird. And I—your trusted friend and field partner—will get to the bottom of it.”

“You think we’re Hydra sleeper agents?” you asked, mostly just to gauge the level of chaos today.

Sam didn’t hesitate. “Worse. You’re dating.”

Bucky blinked. “That’s your worst-case scenario?”

“You’re Bucky,” Sam said. “She’s… tolerable. It’s unnatural.”

You and Bucky exchanged a glance. He did that little eye-squint he thought was subtle. It wasn’t.

You cleared your throat. “We’re in a surveillance van. On a mission. Maybe focus on that?”

Sam threw an arm toward the monitor bank. “Nothing’s moved in two hours except a suspicious delivery guy who turned out to be carrying vegan muffins. Vegan muffins, Barnes.”

“That’s not illegal,” Bucky muttered.

“It should be,” Sam said grimly.

Natasha’s voice crackled over comms. “I’m stationed outside the north stairwell. The target is inactive. You’ve got time to argue about snacks and feelings or whatever this is.”

Sam pointed a marker at the speaker like she’d just validated his entire existence. “Thank you, Natasha.”

You sighed. “Can we please do anything else? Read a book? Pretend we’re asleep? Watch literally anything besides—what even is this?” You pointed to the whiteboard.

Sam turned it so you could see. In neat but slightly chaotic handwriting were phrases like:

“Elevator Incident?”

“Two coffee mugs — ONE MORNING?”

“Barnes: suddenly moisturized??”

“Y/N’s tactical vest adjusted @ 0800 by WHO?”

Bucky pointed at that last one. “That was self-care, not seduction.”

“Tell that to the helmet cam footage,” Sam muttered.

You groaned and slumped back into your seat. “Why do you even care so much?”

“Because,” Sam said, turning slowly, dramatically, “if I am the last to know… I’m bringing slide transitions to the roast.”

You opened your mouth to protest—but Bucky leaned forward, elbows on knees, and said, “Fine. You want proof? Real proof?”

Your heart jumped. Bucky, what are you doing.

Sam straightened like a bloodhound that’d just caught a scent. “Go on.”

“Okay,” Bucky said calmly, “when I got out of cryo in Wakanda, I was emotionally closed-off, unstable, and could barely sleep.”

“Yeah. We know. That’s not new.”

“Well,” Bucky continued, “guess who taught me mindfulness, made me journal, and introduced me to oat milk?”

Your eyebrows lifted. This was true… but it was also your cover story for sneaking into his room every night. As in, yes, I taught him mindfulness, and also how to sneak a second pillow into your bed without anyone noticing.

Sam blinked. “...You’re saying she therapized you?”

Bucky nodded.

Sam opened his mouth, then paused. “You do seem weirdly well-adjusted.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said.

You chimed in. “I’m basically a wellness program in combat boots.”

Sam rubbed his temples. “I’m too tired for this. You’re either dating or you’ve joined a cult. Either way, I hate it.”

Just then, the van monitor beeped. Movement.

Natasha’s voice buzzed back in. “Eyes up. We’ve got two incoming—unmarked car pulling into the garage. Heads down, stay sharp.”

You all ducked slightly. Silence fell.

And then—buzz. A second beep. Sam’s phone.

He glanced at it, then frowned. “Weird. I just got a Venmo request from Natasha. ‘$12 — for emotional labor.’”

You smothered a laugh. Bucky cleared his throat and looked very interested in a gum wrapper on the floor.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Okay. That’s it.”

He stood and whipped around the whiteboard. “Forget the dots. Time for the web.” He pulled back the curtain on the second side of the board.

It was a complete red-string conspiracy map. Photocopies of you and Bucky in seemingly mundane situations: walking down a hallway, sparring, looking slightly too happy in a debriefing. In one, you were handing him a protein bar.

Underneath it read: "The Protein Pact?"

You just said, “That’s a very organized delusion.”

“Thank you,” Sam said proudly.

Natasha’s voice crackled again. “FYI, the suspects are exiting the vehicle. And also, you guys are being recorded right now. There’s a camera in the corner of the van.”

Everyone whipped around.

There was a camera in the corner.

Sam screamed.

“WHO PUT THAT THERE?”

“Security,” Natasha said casually. “Fury installed them after the incident with the karaoke machine and the flamethrower.”

“That was ONE time,” Sam shouted.

Bucky turned to you and murmured, “I bet she’s saving the footage for leverage.”

“She’s definitely building a blackmail folder,” you replied.

Sam pointed wildly between you both. “WHISPERING. SECRET WHISPERING.”

You reached for your comm. “Nat. Can you confirm that whispering is suspicious?”

Natasha replied smoothly, “Only if it’s romantic. Otherwise, it’s standard spycraft.”

Sam looked like he was about to cry.

Bucky stood, walked over, and patted Sam on the shoulder. “Listen, man. If we were dating—which we’re not—it wouldn’t be your business.”

Sam looked up at him, eyes wide. “But I’d be right.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just tired. And alone. In a van. With string.”

Sam collapsed onto the floor dramatically. “Fine. Keep your lies. But I’m putting this in the mission report.”

“No one reads those,” Natasha said.

“I DO!” Sam yelled.

Outside, the target was already being cuffed. Natasha waved casually at the building’s security camera. Mission: complete.

Inside, Bucky took your hand under the table—quick, quiet, and hidden from the whiteboard of doom.

You smiled.

Sam didn’t see.

He was too busy sketching his next whiteboard masterpiece: “Trust No One: Except Maybe Nat. (Still Investigating.)”

As soon as Sam stomped down the ramp and out of the van—still muttering about “betrayal” and “at least Tony would’ve let me interrogate the toaster”—you and Bucky just… sat there.

In the silence.

Watching the whiteboard sway slightly from his exit.

After a beat, Bucky reached over and gently nudged one of the red strings off a pushpin.

“That’s better,” he said.

You snorted. “I’m honestly shocked he didn’t have a slideshow with animations.”

“Oh, he did. He just couldn’t figure out how to get the HDMI to work.”

You turned toward him on the small bench seat, tucking one leg under yourself. The van’s interior lights buzzed faintly, casting a soft, warm glow across Bucky’s face. He looked calm now. Not mission-mode Bucky, not suspiciously-neutral Bucky. Just… yours.

“Think he’ll ever stop suspecting?” you asked, voice low.

He tilted his head slightly, thinking. “Doubt it. But I think Nat officially joined the conspiracy, so we’ve bought ourselves time.”

You smiled. “Good. I like our secret.”

“Me too.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t a secret someday.”

You looked at him, really looked. There was that little furrow in his brow again—the one that showed up when he was being sincere and slightly terrified about it.

Your heart did a slow, quiet somersault.

“I wouldn’t either,” you said gently. “But for now... this is kind of fun.”

Bucky smiled—that real smile. The soft one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made your stomach flip. The one Sam claimed was statistically impossible without “emotional compromise.”

Without a word, he reached behind him, grabbed the emergency blanket from the supply bin, and draped it over both your shoulders. Then he leaned into you, shoulder against yours, warm and solid.

“You cold?” he asked, even though you weren’t shivering.

“No,” you said. “But I’ll allow the dramatic gesture.”

He nudged your foot with his. “You always allow my dramatic gestures.”

“Because they come with blanket rights.”

He chuckled, then reached over and laced his fingers through yours beneath the blanket. His metal thumb gently brushed along your knuckles in a slow, grounding rhythm. It made your chest ache—in the good, heart-melting way.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The van was quiet. Peaceful. The outside world was just a blur through tinted windows. Inside, it was warm, and calm, and yours.

Then Bucky said, very seriously, “We should keep one of Sam’s whiteboards.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“For our future apartment. I’ll write ‘Reasons I Like You’ on it.”

You grinned. “Oh yeah? What’s reason number one?”

He squeezed your hand. “This.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling his breath shift as he leaned gently into you too.

“Number two?” you mumbled.

He kissed the top of your head, soft and quick and secret.

“Still working on the list,” he whispered.

You smiled against his arm.

The emergency blanket was still around your shoulders when you remembered.

You sat up straight, eyes widening. “Wait.”

Bucky blinked at you. “What?”

You slowly turned your head toward the corner of the van.

The camera stared back. Silent. Judgy. Still recording.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, horror dawning. “The blanket moment. The hand-holding. The forehead kiss.”

Bucky followed your gaze, then visibly winced. “Right. Fury’s spy cam.”

You both froze in place like kids caught stealing cookies on a security feed.

You buried your face in your hands. “We’re toast. Fury is going to give us the dad talk.”

“I’m not afraid of Fury,” Bucky said automatically. Then he paused. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m more afraid of Natasha.”

As if summoned, Natasha’s voice crackled over comms again. “Just to confirm—yes, the camera caught all of that. And yes, I’m saving it for your engagement slideshow.”

Bucky groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “We’re gonna die.”

You laughed. “She has footage, Bucky. We are so compromised.”

“Maybe if we act super professional now, she’ll delete it,” he said, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat. “Agent Barnes, commencing protocol alpha. Tactical—uh—tactical recon blanket deployment successful.”

You snorted. “Copy that. Agent Y/N initiating hand-holding for… morale support.”

Natasha’s voice came through again, deadpan. “Truly inspiring. I’ll put it in your performance review.”

You made a face at the camera. “You better at least edit in music. I want violins if this goes public.”

“Please,” Natasha said. “You’re getting a slow piano montage and a ‘Mission: Love Possible’ title card.”

Bucky made a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “We should’ve stayed emotionally repressed.”

You nudged his side gently. “You say that, but you’re the one who initiated the blanket cuddle.”

He squinted. “That’s slander.”

“Camera says otherwise.”

Bucky turned to the lens like he was negotiating with a supervillain. “Nat. Come on. Can’t you just pretend you didn’t see that?”

There was a pause.

Then: screenshot sound.

Both of you groaned.

“Okay,” you muttered. “New mission. Break into Natasha’s room and delete the footage.”

“Impossible,” Bucky said. “She probably has laser traps.”

Natasha’s voice chirped one last time. “Correct. And a pressure-sensitive chocolate drawer. Touch it, and I release the singing drones.”

You blinked. “The what?”

“Don’t ask,” Bucky said immediately.

After a beat of quiet dread, you both looked back at each other—and just started laughing. That quiet, ridiculous kind of laugh you only get when you’re this in love and this caught.

Bucky shook his head, reaching for your hand again. “You know what? Fine. Let her record it. Let Fury analyze it. Let SHIELD make it into a training video called ‘Advanced Emotional Espionage.’ I don’t care.”

You smiled. “Wow. That’s bold.”

“Besides,” he added, leaning in, voice low and smug, “if we’re already being filmed—”

“Don’t,” you warned, laughing as you held up a finger. “We are not making out in front of the security camera.”

He grinned. “What if it’s just a dramatic hug? For morale.”

“Morale my ass,” you said, but you still let him pull you in.

You sat there together—arms wrapped tight, blanket still draped around your shoulders, faces half-hidden from the camera’s angle.

And as the monitor quietly beeped with another “all clear” signal, Bucky whispered in your ear:

“Reason number two: You always let me have the last muffin.”

You laughed softly and tucked your head under his chin.

“Reason number three?” you asked.

He kissed your temple. “You make this feel easy.”

And from her position on the roof, Natasha took one last photo—then switched off the comm and muttered to herself, “God, they’re disgusting.”

Then she smiled.

And added the file to a folder on her encrypted drive labeled: ‘BLACKMAIL or BEST MAN SPEECH’ — TBD.

next part

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd@poodleofstardust @poodleofstardust @homeless-clown @kitasownworld @loversrocktvgirl2 @herejustforbuckybarnes @stormy-stardust @fallen-w1ngs @winchestert101 @f4d3d-st4rs @ultravioletter @xamapolax @theendofthematerialgworl @doilooklikeagiveafrack @fablehaven-rulez @theproblemisthatimnotfictional @winter107soldier@softpia @shakysif @lucyysthings @unadulteratedpastazonkpeach @surebutwhy @tmb510 @kaiari @totallynotabuckybarnessimp @quinquinquincy @tellybearryyyy @roxyym@starstruckfirecat @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction @oliviaohanessian1 @arignipanja574 @creat0r-cat @katheriner1999 @kaiari@authoressskr @antisocialfiore @f-1-girlies-blog @ifilwtmfc @darkrock3t @navs-bhat @ravenswritingroom @lunawitchbitchraven@elfypineapple @smellybad @niceskyler @avengemepercy @crowleythesexydemon @bumblebeebutter @cjand10 @avivarougestan @parkers-gal

@coffelover13 @13c13 @samcortlandlivesinmyheart @pandcbarnes @rosieyama @iminyourceiling @lori19 @94namkooksworld @1000shipsnh @hughjackmanadict @ficmeiguess @beigesthatic @barnes70stark @rosylnsworld @rrosiitas @simp4f1 @vieenr0se @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @iminyourceiling @coolestavenger13 @butnotmontana

1K notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 2 months ago

Text

Declassified [8] - Diplomacy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: The first day of work can be stressful.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning.

Word Count: 4381

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was exactly what the first day of school used to feel like.

You couldn’t stop the sigh leaving your lips as you stared up at the Capitol Building, trying to ignore the anxiety churning your stomach. You knew you were supposed to go in, but somehow your legs refused to listen to you, so you exhaled slowly the way your therapist had taught you to get at least some sort of—

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

You jumped out of your skin, then pressed a hand over your chest and glared at Bucky.

“What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“In my defense, you looked pretty out of it already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And as I said; not too late to change your mind. We can still leave.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “So we just forget about the Congress and everything and go away?”

He grinned. “Mm hm.”

“Where?”

“Brooklyn.”

You tilted your head. “Except that Brooklyn elected you as their representative, I feel like they’d ask what the hell you’re doing there.”

“You make a good point,” he said and thought for a moment. “Okay, new plan.”

“I’m listening.”

“We get new names and identities, move to a small town where no one knows us, and grow old and gray there in peace. We never check the news, ever.”

Your heart skipped a beat but you tried to focus. “Do we have to change Alpine’s name too?”

“I don’t think she’d let us,” he said, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “She missed you, by the way.”

This was not flirting.

This was just friendly. That was it. Two friends talking.

About running away together.

“I missed her too,” you said. “How does she like your new place?”

“She doesn’t,” he murmured before turning to glance at the building. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“Yes.”

You repressed a laugh and bumped your shoulder against his.

“Come on,” you said as you started walking with him next to you. “Today is your day, and you’re gonna be very busy.”

“Yeah, the schedule was pages long,” he said. “I have meetings with people I don’t even know about.”

“Think of it like your debutante ball,” you told him. “They all want to see if you’re the right fit for them, how much dowry you have, and if they can bed you.”

“Please talk to me about something else.”

“Okay. “You shrugged your shoulders. “Onto some heartwarming news; I told Max to go fuck himself last night.”

Bucky frowned. “Hold on, he’s still calling you?”

“I called him,” you said. “He got the apartment after I prepared my boxes and stuff, and I paid the movers extra so that they would move everything without me being there, but apparently Max went through my boxes even if he refuses to admit it, because Blinky is not in any of them.”

“Who’s Blinky?” He paused for a moment. “Or what is Blinky?”

“Blinky is my childhood plushie,” you said. “It’s a fox plushie with one eye, the other eye fell off on the first day, that’s why I named him that. I took him everywhere I moved, and guess what? Max refuses to give him back.”

“Well, that’s interesting information.”

“I know, right?” you asked as you both walked into the building and held up your IDs to go through the security even if Bucky didn’t need to do that. “He claims he hasn’t seen him, but I’m so sure he hides him somewhere in the apartment.”

“You have a toy?”

“It’s a plushie.”

“It’s a toy.”

“It’s a plushie—you know what, I’m not going to stand in the Capitol hallway to argue semantics about my nostalgic childhood plushie with you,” you said while Bucky grinned at you. “You have one thousand things to do and so do I, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That wiped his grin off his face. “Wait, tomorrow? You’re not gonna be around?”

“I’ll be gone all day.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Birdie, no—”

“I have the orientation, I’ll have to meet everyone and stuff, and apparently there’s this tour… It’ll be chaotic. Kels will be with you though, and Caleb as well.”

“But it wouldn’t take you all day,” Bucky tried to convince you as if you were the one who planned the schedule. “What are they going to do, make you tour the place twice? Just tell them you have stuff to do.”

“This is my stuff to do.”

“So you’re leaving me alone with these people?”

You tried not to laugh at the look of betrayal on his face.

“These people are going to be your colleagues,” you reminded him. “So you need to make friends with them. You don’t need me for that.”

“I do need you for that, actually,” he argued. “I don’t…I don’t make friends.”

“Fine, don’t make friends with them, just be civil. You charmed half of Brooklyn, remember?”

“Because you were there.”

“You’ve been through literally the hardest things anyone can go through—”

“To repeat, none of those things required making friends. Or socializing for that matter.”

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll drop by the office if I can,” you assured him. “But remember. Diplomacy. That’s the currency here.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

You took a step to leave, then turned around again to look at him.

“I feel like this goes without saying when it comes to diplomacy, but do not glare at or threaten anyone.”

Bucky stared at you as if you had just asked him whether Alpine could fly and you pursed your lips, then rolled your shoulders back.

“It’s gonna go great,” you muttered to yourself as you started walking again. “Diplomacy, here we come.”

Okay, you expected today to be chaotic, but you did not know it would be this chaotic.

It felt like for the whole day you had been running to one place or the other, and by the time you had found some time to yourself, it was way past lunch time. You had about half an hour until the next item on the schedule so you figured you could drop by Bucky’s office to talk to Kelsey and Caleb and see how Bucky was doing so far.

When you entered the office, most of the team was busy with either their phones or laptops, but Caleb and Kelsey were watching Bucky’s closed door, having a discussion in whispers. You tilted your head, then made your way to them.

“Is everything okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked. “My orientation lasted all day.”

“Mine will too, I just got a break—what is happening?”

Kelsey licked her lips. “Guess who asked for a last minute meeting with Bucky.”

“Who?”

“Amos Drexel.”

Your stomach dropped and you gawked at her. “Sorry?”

“I think you guys are the only people who know this person.”

“I’ve been memorizing everyone’s faces and names and titles since the election night,” she said. “And trust me, people know who he is. People in high places, if you know what I mean.”

“Kels, he’s just a consultant.”

Kelsey scoffed. “He’s not just a consultant, Caleb.”

“A lobbyist.”

“Lobbyists come and go, this guy has been bribing and extorting the politicians for like, decades. He has half of them in his pocket.”

“I feel like I would’ve heard about him,” Caleb said and Kelsey shook her head.

“He’s too smart for that,” she said. “It’s easier for him if the public thinks he’s just a consultant. But trust me, every single politician here knows about him.”

“What is he doing here?” you asked, your heartbeat getting faster as you stole a look at the closed door. “I checked Bucky’s schedule this morning, he wasn’t there.”

“As I said, last minute meeting,” Kelsey said. “What was I supposed to do when Drexel wanted to see him, ask him to reschedule? I squeezed him in.”

“If he tries to bribe Bucky, I feel like he might kill him.”

“Obviously but that’s not the point,” Kelsey said while you grabbed her penholder so that you could do something with your hands. “The point is, if Drexel is here, it means he wants to—”

You dropped the penholder as soon as the door opened, and you ducked under the desk to gather the pencils as he passed by the desk.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” You heard him say as he walked out of the door and you put all the pens into the holder, then got up from under the desk, letting out a breath.

Bucky looked absolutely furious as he glared in the direction he had disappeared into before his eyes found yours, his gaze softening in a second. You gave him a tightlipped smile and put the holder on the desk—

And the rest of the room turned to the door again.

“Almost forgot.” His voice reached your ears, making your whole body tense up. “Honey? Your mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner next weekend.”

Oh.

Oh he had planned this.

Of course he did. He knew every schedule in this goddamn place, and he knew the moment you had a break, you’d come straight to Bucky’s office.

You forced yourself to ignore the whole team and Bucky staring at you, your cheeks burning in humiliation as you turned around to glare at your father who was standing by the door with a calm smile on his face.

“Make sure to text her please,” he told you. “Have a great first day.”

Then he walked away, leaving the whole office in a stunned silence.

You could feel the tears of frustration burning the back of your eyes but this was neither the time nor the place. You blinked a couple of times, clenching your jaw and then made a beeline into Bucky’s office with Caleb and Kelsey rushing after you. Kelsey closed the door behind her and you licked your lips, taking a deep breath.

“I can explain that—”

“He’s your father?” Caleb asked and you cleared your throat.

“Well…”

“Why is your surname different?”

“How is he your father?” Caleb and Kelsey asked at the same time and you cleared your throat.

“I’ve been asking the same question to my mother for ages now.” You tried to joke as you stole a look at Bucky who was just watching you with an unreadable look on his face.

“Your father is Amos Drexel and you still have roommates?” Kelsey asked, motioning at herself and Caleb, and you shook your head fervently.

“I’m broke.”

Caleb scoffed. “Oh come on—”

“No, I am.” You pulled your phone out to open up your bank app, then showed the screen to them. “See? Totally broke.”

That seemed to have snapped Bucky out of the haze he was in. “Wait, you need money?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head fervently. “No I don’t.”

Caleb stared at your phone screen. “How is that even possible?”

“I got myself a separate bank account when I was eighteen,” you said. “I wouldn’t touch his money with a gun to my head, I know where it comes from. And before you ask, I won’t touch it when he dies either, it will go straight to charity.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

“Not at all but he ignores it, just like he ignores how I’ve been begging him to disown me for years,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Please say something.”

Bucky just held your gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Your surname is different?”

“I changed it to my mother’s maiden name the day I turned eighteen,” you said. “You should’ve seen the paperwork.”

Bucky pointed at the door. “Birdie, I just told your father to go to hell.”

“You—” Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You told him to go to hell?”

“With different words.”

“What words?”

Bucky raised his brows, then motioned at her and you. “You two are here, I can’t exactly say what I said.”

“Bucky how many times must we tell you that people can curse around—” Caleb started but Kelsey cut him off, throwing her head back to look up at the ceiling like she was asking for help.

“Jesus, we’re not gonna last a term.”

“Would he assassinate him?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one is going to assassinate me, Caleb.”

“Hypothetically, would it even count as assassination if he killed you?”

“No.”

“I was going to say who died and left you in charge of assassinations, but I think everyone in this room knows the answer—”

“Bucky, I don’t think you understand,” Kelsey insisted. “Let’s say you’re Aragorn, this guy is Sauron!”

You made a face.

“He’s not Sauron, his power does have a limit.” You paused for a moment. “He’s Saruman at best.”

“Thanks, that makes it so much better—”

“Can we have the room?” Bucky cut her off and Kelsey and Caleb exchanged glances, then left the office. You could feel the anxiety churning your stomach but you swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on him.

“Bucky…”

“Why not tell me?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Would you have hired me?”

He frowned. “Of course I would.”

“And how would that go? Here’s my resume, oh by the way, my father bribes and extorts politicians for a living?” you asked. “See, I don’t think you would.”

“So your solution was to keep it a secret? Even after we—” He stopped himself. “Even after we started working together?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I couldn’t just tell you,” you said. “Listen, I wanted to work in politics, and…”

“And you could’ve easily got a job here,” Bucky told you. “You didn’t have to wait until I got elected.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m doing this?” you asked. “Bucky, I don’t want to work for a politician who is only gonna hire me because of my father, he stands for the opposite of everything I believe in—”

“And it’s been like that from the beginning?” he asked, making you pull back. “From the first minute we started working together?”

When the realization crashed down on you, it tightened your throat like a fist.

“You don’t believe me,” you muttered, biting inside your cheek and he let out a breath.

“Birdie, listen—”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “The next time you accuse me of working for my father, or—or having anything to do with his corruption, I will walk away, Bucky. I’ll pick one of the many job offers being thrown at me from someone who’s not in my father’s pocket -surprisingly, there are still some of those- and I’ll go and work for them. So I guess the question you should be asking is, do you really want that to happen?”

With that, you stormed out of the office and made your way to the stairs without sparing anyone a glance, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Well needless to say, as far as first days went, that one was not so good.

You had gone straight home after work without dropping by Bucky’s office again. Caleb came home an hour after you, and Kelsey was the last one to arrive, and they had a lot of questions.

At least they had both brought booze and snacks.

And now, way past midnight, all of you were sitting on the floor, still drinking and snacking but the air felt much lighter.

“I just want to say, Birdie,” Caleb said. “Even if your father is a demon sent from hell to bribe politicians, we love you.”

“Aw, thanks Caleb.”

“Can I also point out that,” Kelsey said, reaching for some chips, “it sure is weird that we have a TV, a fucking gramophone—”

“No badmouthing my gramophone, Kels.”

“But we don’t have a couch?”

“We’ll buy a couch,” you said, throwing a piece of chocolate in air to catch it with your mouth. “Like, next month. When we can afford it.”

“Maybe we should let your father know his daughter doesn’t have a couch, so that he can send us a gold one.”

You shot her a look and she grinned.

“These jokes will continue, just so you know.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered and pointed at the TV. “Swipe left.”

“No, swipe right!” Caleb told Kelsey who tilted her head, still holding her thumb over her phone screen. You had connected her phone to the TV and for over an hour you were going over the ‘options’ for her as Caleb had put it, and even though you’d had doubts at first, this turned out to be much more fun than watching political news.

“I mean he does give off fuckboy vibes, Caleb.”

“I don’t give a shit, he has a dog,” Caleb said. “One of us has to find someone with a dog. Birdie already has Bucky, who has an asshole cat—”

“I don’t have Bucky, and Alpine is a pretty princess.”

“And I’m a dog person,” Caleb said, pointing at the picture on the screen. “Maybe he’ll bring over his dog.”

“You make a good point,” Kelsey said as she swiped right, and all of you made a face at the next picture on the screen.

“Left!”

“Do you guys think I’ll have to work for someone else?”

“I think Bucky would rather resign himself than fire you,” Kelsey stated and Caleb nodded, taking a fistful of jellybeans into his palm.

“She’s right,” he said. “Do you want the green ones?”

“Yes please,” you said and held out your hand so that he could put the green jellybeans in your palm, and you popped them in your mouth. “And if he doesn’t trust me anymore?”

“That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when I told Kels you were already home within his earshot?”

You let out a whine and downed your drink. “It’s gonna be so weird when I see him tomorrow.”

“Just pretend nothing happened,” Kelsey said, making Caleb scoff.

“I’m sure it’s a very healthy approach to disagreements in a relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you said sulkily as the roar of a motorcycle outside reached the apartment. “He’s in a relationship with Hazel fucking—swipe right on this one Kels—Brooks.”

“Who hates your guts because she knows Bucky likes you.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “Because Bucky would ever leave his hot, successful, billionaire girlfriend —who is, if I may repeat, super hot— to be with me.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

You flailed your arms. “We don’t even have a damn couch, Kels!”

“Then he fucks you on the floor, who cares?” Caleb exclaimed as he poured more wine into your glass, and your phone buzzed on the floor. You picked it up, sitting up straighter the moment you saw the text.

From: Winter Is Coming

Hey. Are you awake?

“What the…” you muttered and turned the screen to Caleb and Kelsey so that they could read the text. “Is this a ‘you up’ text? Is Bucky sending me a you up text?”

“The man has to google half of the things I text him, but he’s sending you a you up text, sure.” Kelsey scoffed a laugh. “See, told you things would work out. That’s gonna be an apology text, text him back.”

You sent a quick yes, your heartbeat getting faster as Caleb grinned.

“He’s so lying in bed thinking about you, aw!”

“He’s not doing that— ” You started but you were cut off when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?

“Holy shit!”

“Caleb, stop shouting!”

“He’s here?!”

“Oh my God, oh my God…” You jumped on your feet, fanning yourself. “What do I do?”

“Well, you calm down,” Kelsey said, getting up as well. “And you go outside.”

“How do I look?”

“You look great.” Kelsey pulled your top down a little and wiggled her brows. “For good luck.”

You took a deep breath, fixed your hair, and rushed out of the apartment to make your way downstairs, then you stepped out of the building to find him leaning against his motorcycle.

Goddamn it.

You were supposed to be angry at him, but somehow the butterflies in your stomach refused to listen to you.

“To repeat,” you said as you walked down the stairs and approached him. “I have a doorbell.”

“It’s 2 a.m.” Bucky replied, his eyes fixed on you, making your heart skip a beat. “I figured Caleb and Kelsey would be asleep.”

“Nope, we’re picking guys for Kelsey,” you said. “So what brings you here?”

Bucky paused for a moment and licked his lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “About today…”

“Listen, I know you’re gonna say I should’ve told you but you need to understand—”

“I’m sorry.”

That made you stop talking and your eyes snapped up to his, a confused frown pulling your brows together. Bucky gave you an apologetic smile and cleared his throat as if he was willing to get the words out.

“I don’t like it when people hide things from me, and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes from yours for a moment. “I trust you a lot, so when you—”

You shook your head fervently. “Bucky, I would never betray your trust.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” you insisted. “Because I need you to know that. I would never go behind your back and do anything to—to hurt you in any way.”

That soft light appeared in his blue eyes. “I know.”

“It’s just not who I am.”

“I know, Birdie.”

You bit inside your cheek.

“And I’m sorry too,” you muttered, pressing your palms on your eyes for a moment before dropping your hands. “I swear, something evil comes out of me whenever someone so much as mentions me being anything like him. Especially when I spent years trying to prove that I’m not.”

“I get that.”

You looked down, shifting your weight from one foot to other, then raised your head to smile up at him.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. “You can help us pick guys for Kels, and there’s wine and snacks.”

“Tempting offer,” he said. “But I’m actually here to drop something off.”

You frowned as he reached into the box behind his motorcycle. “What? I’m pretty sure I got all the files—”

You stopped talking the moment you saw what he pulled out of the box, a gasp leaving your lips and your hands shooting up to your mouth.

Blinky.

He held out the worn out plushie for you and you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before you reached out to take it.

“Wh—how?”

“It was on my way.”

You pulled your brows together, looking down at the fox plushie before raising your glances again.

“My old apartment, which is in New York,” you said slowly, “was on your way to your home, which is in DC.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

“Well okay, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I just got back to the city, that’s why I texted you at this hour.”

You could feel your heart melting in your chest. “You went all the way to New York to get my childhood plushie back?”

“I still think that counts as a toy,” he pointed out as if it was crucial information. “But you said it was important to you, so…”

Don’t kiss him.

You can’t kiss him. He’s your boss, he has a girlfriend, he does not see you that way, do not kiss him.

“And if anything, I’d been wanting to talk to Max for a while now, so the toy was basically just an excuse.”

“It a plushie—” You changed directions mid-sentence. “What do you mean you talked to Max?”

The look on his face was too innocent. “We just had a conversation, that’s all.”

“About?”

“About him not making anything difficult for you. Or something along those lines.”

The warmth swirled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel lightheaded as you beamed at him, a giggle climbing your chest.

“Bucky.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what to say...”

“Oh it’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you said. “It’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

That made his head snap up, his eyes searching yours while a proud smile pulled at his lips like your praise meant the world to him. It could’ve been funny if you weren’t trying so hard to control yourself from kissing him; the deadliest assassin in the world, the infamous Bucky Barnes who barely smiled at anyone, who could strike fear in anyone’s hearts with a mere glare, now had the same expression of an excited puppy who was given a treat.

His throat bobbed and he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to pull himself together, then gestured at his motorcycle. “I uh, I should go.”

You were painfully aware that you were pouting. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And hey, I’m sure you’re needed inside too. Can’t have Kelsey choose the wrong guy.”

You huffed out a laugh, hugging a plushie to your stomach and nodded.

“See you tomorrow,” you said quietly and took a couple of steps but then turned around to look at him.

“And…” You cleared your throat, your heart pacing in your chest. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

His voice was soft: “Good night Birdie.”

He waited until you were in the building to ride away and you pressed a hand over your chest before climbing the stairs to enter your apartment.

“Hey,” Kelsey said. “How did it—is that a plushie?”

“Bucky got you a plushie?” Caleb asked, confusion clear in his tone and you looked down at the plushie, then back at them.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you rasped out, your voice weak even to your own ears. “I think I’m actually falling for him.”

Chapter 9

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#congressman bucky barnes #congressman!bucky #congressman!bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic

565 notes · View notes

jelijinxy · 10 days ago

Text

E=mc²: Fun facts - Lara Raj

Synopsis: you think she deserves better

Pairings: Lara x G!p Reader ( loser)

Genre: Fluff

A/n: you can read the rest of the series here

____________________________________________

You hadn’t answered Lara’s last three texts.

It wasn’t anything dramatic; just small stuff. A heart emoji. A dumb meme. “You up?” even though it was 8:45 p.m. and you were definitely up, just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling like a useless blob. Sprawled on your bed, feeling like absolute shit.

You weren’t mad at her. God, no. You were obsessed with her. You couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Maybe that was the problem.

2 weeks ago , you went on your first date. It was chaotic and kind of perfect. You showed up 15 minutes early and stood outside like a creep and waiting for the right time, then you knocked, you almost forgot your wallet, and nearly walked into a window instead of the front door of the Planetarium, Lara laughed the entire time and still kissed you at the end.

You were officially together since the start, she told you that you didn’t have to ask her to be your girlfriend, she did that for you when she claimed you as hers.

And now your brain wouldn’t shut up.

She could have anyone.

Why would she want you? You’re awkward. You say weird stuff. You get tongue tied when she wears lip gloss.

She probably just feels sorry for you. That has to he it. She probably saw you in the library once; studying and thought to herself; ‘that is a nerd, she has no friends, Ima date her to make her feel better about herself’

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid.

But that didn’t stop the thought spiral.

So you stopped texting as much.

Didn’t flirt back. Well, not like if you flirt in the first place, you stuttered over your words when she looks in your eyes. Does that even count as flirting if she smiles?

You laughed off her compliments like they were jokes.

You thought maybe she wouldn’t notice. Or maybe she'd realize she deserved someone better, someone smooth and confident who didn’t have to mentally rehearse their “Hi” every time they saw her or choke on air when you try to call her beautiful.

But Lara Raj was not subtle.

And she didn’t like being ignored.

She knew you were ignoring her, and she was pissed.

On Friday night, she showed up at your apartment without warning, sweat shirt on, hair up, eyes sharp.

You blinked at her from the door.

“…Lara?”

“You’re alive, I thought you died, you know? Seeing that you don’t reply me anymore”

she asked, stepping past you. Sarcasm dripping from her voice

“Or did your phone fall into a black hole with your common sense?”

You froze.

“I—I was just—sorry, I’ve been busy—”

“With what? Looking miserable in silence?”

She turned to face you, arms crossed, leaning against your desk like she owned the place.

You stared at the floor. These words were on your mind for a couple days now, and now it’s in your throat, making you feel sick.

“…You could do better than me.”

It came out like a whisper, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

She blinked.

“…What?”

You swallowed hard. Your throat felt tight.

“I know I’m a loser, okay? I’m awkward, I mess stuff up, I say dumb things around you all the time. You’re…..you're you. You’re cool and smart and you can talk to people without melting down. You could be with literally anyone. So I figured maybe I should just….let you go.”

Silence.

A pause.

Then—

“Are you done?”

You looked up.

Lara was still watching you. But her expression had softened; eyes narrowed, head tilted just slightly. Like she was seeing something breakable in you, and deciding how best to handle it.

“You really think I’m with you because I feel sorry for you?”

You said nothing; your eyes never left the floor, a sour look on your face.

She stepped forward.

“Do you know how many idiots try to flirt with me every week? They all say the same stuff. Smooth lines. Fake charm. Nothing real.”

She stopped in front of you, close enough to touch.

“And then there’s you.”

You stopped breathing .

“You, who nearly fainted the first time I touched your hand, you had a whole nose bleed Y/n”

“You, who still gets flustered when I call you cute or pretty .”

“You write poems for me! For gods sake”

“You, who made me a playlist called ‘Songs That Remind Me of Your Eyes’ and then deleted it five minutes later because you got embarrassed.”

You cringed.

“I thought that was private.”

“I screenshotted it.”

She smirked.

“Of course you did.”

“Look,”

she said, gently now,

“you don’t have to be some perfect, confident version of yourself for me. I already chose you. You and all your Fun Facts about sharks”

You felt something in your chest crack something tight and aching and stupid.

“You’re serious? Even about the shark facts?”

Lara rolled her eyes and tugged you toward her by the hem of your shirt.

“I literally showed up at your door to bully you into self-worth. Does that sound like someone who's not serious?, and I love your shark facts, because you love them”

You laughed.

God, she was annoying.

And you were so, so in love with her.

But you haven’t told her that yet.

She pulled you into a quick kiss, and you two stood there for a while as she hugged you.

You’ve never felt so loved.

____________________________________________

#jinxy #katseye #katseye x reader #katseye x you #daniela avanzini #lara raj #manon bannerman #megan skiendiel #jeong yoonchae #sophia laforteza #lara raj x reader

427 notes · View notes

papayainsectorone · 3 months ago

Text

Teach Me

════════════════════════

summary: A chance reunion with Oscar at a party leads to a night of exploration, vulnerability, and intimacy—where he learns to ask for what he wants, and you’re more than willing to teach him.

content: 18+! smut, nsfw descriptions, oral sex, praise kink

word count: 4,7k

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

a thought: this turned out to be great potential to add some parts, so maybe stay tuned if it does well

teach me series

════════════════════════

You hadn’t seen him in years. Not really. Not since both your lives split off into entirely different rhythms—his dominated by circuits and airports, yours by everything else.

And yet, when you bumped into him again at a mutual friend’s party, he still had the same shy smile. Still held eye contact like it meant something. Still remembered the dumb in-jokes that made you laugh harder than the alcohol.

You ended up talking for hours. About nothing and everything. And somehow, that turned into walking back to your hotel together. And somehow, that turned into sitting too close on your bed, the TV playing something neither of you are watching, knees touching like it’s a game of dare.

You can feel how tense he is. Not nervous like scared—but nervous like hesitant. Like he’s not sure what’s okay to want.

“You’ve always been so good at this,” he murmurs eventually, eyes flicking down to your mouth and then away again. “People. Talking. Flirting. I don’t think I ever got the hang of it.”

You tilt your head. “When would you have? You went straight from karts to cars. The rest of us were fumbling through school dances—you were chasing podiums.”

He huffs a laugh. Quiet. Embarrassed. “Yeah, but even then... the other guys, they still talked about it. About girls. Hookups. I never really—” He breaks off. “I was just thinking about racing.”

“That’s not a crime,” you say softly.

His voice drops a little, barely more than a whisper. “Feels like I missed something.”

You glance at him sideways, curious “Are you a virgin?”

His head snaps toward you—wide eyes, startled. Then he lets out a small, awkward chuckle. “Yeah... I mean—no.” He exhales sharply. “I’m not totally new to this. I’ve had sex.” A shrug. “We were young. It was fast. Awkward. Over before I could really think about it. And then... I don’t know. Life just kept happening.”

“Do you want to learn now?” you ask.

His breath catches. Then: “Yeah.”

Your thumb brushes his cheek. His skin’s warm, a little flushed. You lean in just enough for him to meet you halfway if he wants to.

He does.

The kiss is gentle. Curious. He doesn’t rush it, and you don’t push him. Your hand cups the side of his neck, feeling the soft thrum of nerves and anticipation under his skin.

When you pull back just enough to speak, your voice is almost a whisper.

“You don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing.”

His fingers tighten slightly where they rest on your thigh. “Good,” he murmurs, a little breathless. “Because I really, really don’t.”

You kiss him again, slower this time, letting it linger. His hand drifts to your waist, unsure, but you press into his palm to tell him it’s okay.

When you pull back, his cheeks are flushed, his lashes low.

“Okay,” you say softly. “New rule.”

He blinks. “Rule?”

You nod. “You have to talk to me. No hiding it. If you like something, you say it. If you want me to stop, you say it. If you want more…” You trail your fingers lightly down his chest. “You say that too.”

He swallows. “Even if I sound stupid?”

“You won’t. I promise.” You smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “There’s no wrong answers. Just tell me what feels good.”

He hesitates only a second before nodding. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”

You lean in again, mouths meeting, and this time you ease him gently back against the pillows. Your knee slots between his thighs, your hand sliding under his shirt, just brushing warm skin.

His breath stutters.

“That okay?” you murmur.

“Y-Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s… good. Warm.”

You laugh under your breath. “Good start.”

You guide him through every little step—how to touch, where to focus, how to relax into the way your lips find his neck and your hand curls low on his stomach.

Every time he gasps or moans, you stop and make him tell you why.

“It—when you do that thing with your thumb,” he pants, eyes fluttering. “It… it makes everything feel tighter. Better.”

You press your mouth to his jaw. “That’s what I want. For you to feel everything.”

And he does. Slowly, sweetly, in breathy little confessions and nervous laughs, in the way his hands start to get bolder, braver.

He listens. He learns. And he lets you teach him with lips and tongue and open praise.

It’s messy, a little clumsy, but none of that matters—not when he’s watching you like you’re the only thing anchoring him. His hands are on your back now, sliding under your shirt like he’s memorizing you.

You roll your hips just enough to make him shiver.

“Still good?” you ask, voice low.

He nods quickly, too quickly, then corrects himself. “Yes. I like… when you move like that.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth. “Tell me what you want.”

He fumbles for a second, eyes flicking away. Then, quieter: “More. I want more of you.”

That’s all it takes.

You ease his shirt up and over his head, kiss your way down his chest, slow and soft. His skin is warm, marked with a few nervous trembles, but he’s breathing steady through it now. Trusting you.

When your hand slips lower, he gasps, hips lifting into your touch before he remembers to speak.

“Yes,” he says, breathless. “That—please, don’t stop.”

You smile against his skin. “Good boy.”

He whines. Actually whines. And it goes straight through you.

His hips twitch again like the words themselves tug at something deep inside him. His fingers curl tight into the sheets, his jaw slack with need.

“God,” he pants, like the sound of praise is almost as intoxicating as your touch. “Say it again. Please.”

A soft, almost shy laugh escapes you as you pull back just slightly, looking down at him. You tilt your head, fingers brushing along his jaw.

"Did you like that, Oscar?" you ask, your voice low, teasing in a way that makes his breath catch. "Me telling you how good you're doing?"

His eyes snap open, pupils blown wide. His face flushes a deeper shade of red, and for a moment, he doesn't say anything—just stares at you, caught in a mixture of surprise and a shy kind of awe. Then, his hips buck involuntarily against you, as if the praise itself set something off inside him.

His chest heaves, and he stammers, his voice tight. "I… I… yeah, I liked it. It—it felt… good."

You lean in closer, your lips brushing just above his ear. "I could tell." You press a little firmer against him, watching his face twist with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. "You’re doing so well, Oscar. You like hearing me say it, don’t you? When I tell you how good you’re being for me?"

He bites his lip, the flush on his face spreading all the way down his neck. “Yeah… I… I want to hear it.”

You let the words sink in, savoring how they make him squirm beneath you, how much he craves that affirmation. And you know, in that moment, you could keep going—make him beg for it, make him crave your praise until he’s dizzy with it.

You give him what he wants.

“You’re doing amazing. Such a good boy, Oscar.”

That breaks him.

"Fuck, please," he says, voice trembling.

His grip tightens on the sheets, and you can feel him shift beneath you, eager, almost frantic. His body is a perfect contrast to the hesitant boy he once was. Now, he’s confident in his need, in his craving for your approval.

"Please," he gasps, his voice rough and shaky. "I need to hear more…"

Your fingers hover just above his waistband, your breath hot against the sensitive skin of his abs. Oscar’s body trembles beneath you, the anticipation almost too much to bear, and youcan feel his nerves radiating through the tension in his muscles.

You look up at him, voice soft but coaxing. “You’re doing so well, Oscar,” you murmurs, lips grazing his skin lightly. “But I need you to tell me what you want. What feels good? You just have to say it, baby. I’m here to listen.”

His eyes meet yours, uncertainty flickering in them, but there’s something else too—a hunger, a desperate need to feel good, to know that you want to hear what he’s craving. His hands curl into fists at his sides, still not sure how to ask for it.

You kiss his thigh gently, lips lingering for just a moment before you pull away, letting the tension build. “It’s okay. You can tell me, Oscar. I won’t bite. Just tell me what you need.”

Oscar swallows hard, his voice trembling when he finally speaks. “I… I don’t know what to say…”

You smiles softly, hand brushing his side soothingly, the touch gentle, patient. “It’s alright. Just start slow. Tell me if it feels good when I touch you like this.” You move your fingers again, grazing the waistband of his pants, letting him feel the heat of your proximity. “Does that feel good?”

He nods, his body reacting with a soft moan that escapes before he can stop it. “Yeah… yeah, it feels good… But I… I want more…”

Your heart races at his admission, the vulnerability in his voice making her pulse quicken. “More?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet full of warmth and encouragement. “Tell me what more feels like. I want to know what makes you feel good, Oscar.”

Oscar’s breath catches, his face flushed, but he nods again, this time with more confidence. “I… I like when you’re close. When you touch me, but… maybe with your mouth…”

Your eyes soften at his words, and you leans in closer, your lips brushing against his skin. “I can do that,” you murmur. “Just tell me if it’s too much or if you want more, okay?”

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and as you gently slide the last of the fabric down, his body exposed now, not prepared for the sight that greets you. You pause for a moment, eyes widening slightly, unable to hide the surprised expression that cross your face.

"Fuck, Oscar," you breathe, voice low and full of disbelief, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "How did you hide that?" Your gaze linger on him for a beat longer than you mean to, taking in how he stands there, vulnerable yet undeniably… impressive.

Oscar’s face flushes a deep shade of crimson at her reaction, his body stiffening with embarrassment.

But you’re not going to let him feel self-conscious for long. You lean in closer, your breath warm against his skin, your gaze flickering up to meet his once more.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, your voice soft, reassuring. “You’re exactly what I wanted.”

With that, you lower yourself further, your hands resting on his thighs for a moment as you look up at him, silently asking if he’s ready. He nods, barely a whisper of a sound escaping him, but you hear it—his consent.

You move slowly, deliberately, pressing your lips to his skin just below his navel, tasting the heat of him before continuing your descent. His body flinches slightly, a soft gasp escaping his lips as your mouth moves lower, your lips brushing over him with a delicate pressure. You feel his hips twitch beneath you, and you pause, your eyes flickering to his, seeking confirmation.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” you murmur, your voice soft, but with the authority of someone who knows exactly how to guide him. “Just say the word, Oscar.”

He shakes his head, his hands fisting in the sheets, and his voice trembles with need. “It feels good,” he breathes, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. “Please, just… don’t stop.”

You smile, knowing you’ve unlocked the vulnerability in him, the one that lets him speak his desires. And you’re more than willing to give him what he needs. With that, you finally take him in your mouth, slow at first, the heat and taste of him overwhelming your senses as you move in rhythm with his quiet gasps.

As you continue, the sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel him struggle to keep his composure. The way his hips buck unexpectedly sends a jolt of shock through you, and you stumble for a moment, a slight gag catching in your throat. Tears well up in your eyes from the sudden movement, but you quickly recover, a trail of spit still connecting you both, glistening in the dim light.

For a moment, you just breathe, letting the surprise and intensity of the moment settle, your hand gently resting on his thigh as you look up at him. “Did you like that?” you ask, your voice a little breathless, your eyes soft with the mix of surprise and affection.

Oscar’s chest heaves, his breaths coming quick and uneven as he watches you. His eyes are wide with a mix of shock and excitement. “Oh my God… yes,” he pants, his voice hoarse with need, a little desperate now. “I didn’t mean to—fuck, I—”

You smile, wiping your lips gently, savoring the way he’s unraveling in front of you. “It’s okay, Oscar,” you say, your voice soothing, though there’s an underlying teasing tone.

You take his hand, guiding it to your hair, your fingers lightly curling around his wrist, urging him to take a little control. “You can take some control,” you murmur, your voice low and full of trust. “Just guide me if you need to.”

Oscar’s eyes widen in surprise, his hand trembling in your hair as you lower yourself again, your lips brushing against him, waiting for his guidance. His breath catches as you look up at him again, your expression soft, yet encouraging.

As you pause, waiting for him to take the lead, his mind is spinning, and a sudden surge of confidence rushes through him. He’s starting to get it—how it feels to guide you, how much you’re willing to trust him with this. Slowly, he exhales, his hand tightening in your hair, not pulling, but gently guiding your head down as his hips buck up again, this time with purpose.

Your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, he freezes, unsure if he’s doing it right. But your smile, the way you relax under his touch, reassures him. “That’s it, Oscar,” you murmur, your voice low and soft, as you sink further into him, your mouth finding its rhythm again. “You’re doing perfect.”

The control he feels is intoxicating. He guides you just a little more, feeling his own body grow tighter with the sensations. The rush of pleasure builds, and it’s almost too much to handle. He squirms beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares down at you, his breath hitching with the overwhelming feeling.

"I think I’m gonna…" he starts, his voice faltering, a mixture of panic and desire in his tone.

You pull off for a moment, your lips still glistening, a soft smile playing at the corner of your mouth as you look up at him. “It’s okay, Oscar,” you breathe, your voice soothing and encouraging. “Just let it happen. Let me know where you want it to be.”

Your words are the reassurance he needs. He exhales a shaky breath, his grip on your hair tightening again as he gently moves you down, his hips bucking once more in need, desperate for the release he’s been holding back.

“Please… can you…” He doesn’t know how to ask for it, but the words tumble out, raw with need. “Can you… finish it? I… I want you to.”

You smile softly at his request, your eyes locking with his.

You lower yourself once more, moving with deliberate slowness, each motion intentional as you take him in.

Your tongue glides over the tip, circling gently, your pace steady. His hand remains tangled in your hair, fingers brushing the softness as you move. Each subtle bop of your head brings him closer to the edge, the sensation growing more intense with every second. The pressure builds inside him, and though he tries to hold back, it becomes overwhelming. With a deep, almost primal grunt, he loses control, his hips jerk upward, hitting the back of your throat — the final spark that ignites everything.

The pressure inside him snaps all at once, and his body shudders violently beneath you. One hand grips your head, pulling you down harder without thought, caught in the grip of release, while his other arm locks tight behind him, bracing against the mattress and forcing his upper body forward. His back arches, hips lifting fully off the bed, his torso folding over you as if every muscle in him is straining toward you, unable to hold anything back.

But you don’t stop. Your mouth stays on him, your throat tight around the tip, taking every inch as his body bucks beneath you. One hand holds his thigh steady, the other stroking him gently through the aftershocks as he gasps through a stuttering stream of “Oh God… fuck… you feel so good…” The words fall from him unfiltered, broken by the rawness of the release.

When the tension finally ebbs from his muscles and his breath slows, he collapses back onto the bed, chest rising and falling. Only then do you let him slip from your mouth, slow and careful.

The silence between you both is comfortable, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing, and you move to sit beside him, your fingers gently brushing over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your touch.

"You okay?" you ask softly, your voice a soothing contrast to the intensity of the moment just passed. Your eyes are full of warmth and care, checking on him in a way that makes him feel safe and cherished.

Oscar nods, still catching his breath, his eyes meeting yours. A soft, almost shy smile tugs at his lips, and his hand reaches for yours, gently pulling it to his chest. "Yeah… I think I’m just a little overwhelmed," he admits, his voice quieter now, full of a mixture of contentment and vulnerability.

You smile, your thumb gently tracing over his hand, the simple touch grounding him. "It’s okay. You did amazing," you say, your voice tender, reassuring.

He blushes slightly, the praise settling into him like a warm blanket, making him feel both shy and proud in equal measure. His voice almost shy as he looks at you with wide, honest eyes. "I… I didn’t expect it to feel THAT… good."

You chuckle, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your touch tender and careful. "We can do that again, whenever you like."

He smiles, all flushed cheeks and messy hair, eyes still a little glassy from the afterglow. “Yeah?” he breathes, disbelief and hope threading through the single word.

You nod, leaning in until your foreheads touch, your thumb still gently stroking his temple. “Yeah,” you whisper, as if it’s a secret just for him. “You just have to ask.”

Oscar swallows hard, his heart thudding all over again—but for a different reason now. Not nerves, not lust. Just this quiet, aching affection building in his chest. “Okay,” he says softly. “I… I think I will.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek—sweet, not rushed, not trying to stoke the fire again, just sealing the promise between you. Then you rest your head on his shoulder, fingers drawing slow, lazy shapes on his chest.

For a while, you don’t speak. You don’t need to.

He eventually tilts his head to glance at you, his voice sleepy but sure. “You’re really good at making people feel safe.”

And he doesn’t say anything after that—just holds you a little tighter.

NEXT PART

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri imagine #mclaren #mclaren x reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri #op81 #𓊆papayainone𓊇 #op81 smut

778 notes · View notes

andvys · 6 months ago

Text

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter four

⭐︎ While I’m alone and blue as can be

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, mentions of blood and wounds, gore, post apocalypse au, major character death

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of Steve's outburst leaves him guilty and regretful, but a conversation might fix things... a little.

Word count: 6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for proofreading, for fixing my dumbass mistakes and for writing with me hehe

⭐︎ series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter ⭐︎ next chapter

☀︎

It was surprising how well you adapted to this change, to being back on the road. You imagined it to be harder when you were still back in Hawkins, you thought that you would struggle after days spent in warmth and safety but you didn’t, you don’t struggle – maybe it’s got to do with the fact that you are not alone this time, that you still have a warm bed to sleep in every night, that you still have the feeling of safety thanks to the people you are with, that you still have a roof over your head. The RV almost feels like home. For now, you have enough food and water to last for a while, though you still stock up on cans, water bottles snacks wherever you can find some, gas stations, grocery stores, and shops that you stop by on the way.

It’s been three days since you left Hawkins, three days since you saw Steve fall to his knees and cry out tears that you know he must’ve pushed away since the day he lost her. You felt so bad for him, your heart broke at the sight of his pain and at the sound of his cries. You pitied and felt for him, though it still didn’t take away the pain he left you with. His words hurt, and they stung deeply. You were stupid to think that things could work out between you and him when he shared a moment with you in the kitchen, you got too hopeful. He was mean and cruel to you; it was a mistake to try and be his friend.

Now, you don’t talk much to him, only when you have to. You don’t look at him all that much either, nodding at his questions and giving short replies. He tries. He tries to talk to you, to strike up conversation but you don’t want it, you don’t want to talk to him, knowing that he only does it out of guilt. It wasn’t a surprise to you when he approached you on the first day and offered his help to cook dinner with you. You declined and asked for Eddie instead.

He isn’t heartless, nor is he a bad guy, of course the guilt and the regret would catch up eventually but it doesn’t make the feeling in your chest go away, the dread and the sadness he put inside of you.

The tension between you is thick and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie and Nancy. Even on the day of your departure, they knew something had happened the night you ran after Steve. You came back crying, and the next day you barely talked, sat there with puffy red eyes and a sad look on your face.

And now, whenever he comes close to you, whenever he tries to talk to you or help with something, you bolt, not wanting to be anywhere near him, not wanting his help, not wanting to talk to him, nothing.

Maybe it would have gone unnoticed by them if it wasn’t for the time you’ve spent together cooking the night before you left Hawkins. It was tense between the two of you before, but it was different because you still tried and he didn’t have that guilty look on his face he has now. Every time he asks you something and you reply with less than three words before walking away from him, his eyes follow you, filled with guilt and sadness.

‘He looks like a kicked puppy’, Eddie had said to Nancy.

He looked like one for the past three days, and it’s seemingly getting worse. The longer you behave this way towards him, giving him nothing but a cold shoulder, his eyes sadden a little more.

You are completely unaware of it all. If only you took a better look, you would see it too.

Leaning against the side of the RV, Eddie is smiling with his eyes closed, enjoying the faint warmth of the afternoon sun as he puffs out the smoke from his cigarette, humming the melody of a song Steve doesn’t recognize.

Unlike the metalhead, Steve looks anything but relaxed, his eyes glued to the dusty windows of the gas station you and Nancy are currently inside of, looking for food to stock up on. He is swinging his bat back and forth, pacing around as he waits.

He wanted to be the one to go into the gas station with you, though Nancy didn’t even give him the chance to before she followed you inside and told him to stand guard with Eddie.

The guilt of what he’s done, of what he said to you has been eating at him, worsening every day. He despises what he did when he was angry, and he can’t forgive himself for directing his anger at you. You were right, you were right from the start and deep down he knew it.

Nothing waited for him back there, not her, not even the ghost of her but he didn’t want to accept it.

Now he has to deal with the aftermath of the ugliness that ripped out of him when he hurt you. You can’t even look at him and it makes him feel like the worst person alive.

Eddie peeks one eye open, taking a look at his friend, he can see the distressed look on his face, the deep frown and the way he constantly runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit. He would be amused by this if it wasn’t for the hurt look in your eyes.

The door opens and Nancy walks out with a box, grinning at Eddie, “we got corn, tuna, beans, we even found some trail mix and chips, they might be a little stale but–”

“Is she still inside?” Steve asks, interrupting her as he looks over her shoulder.

“Yeah, she’s desperately looking for something sweet,” Nancy chuckles as she moves past him, getting into the RV to put away the things she gathered.

Eddie takes one last drag of his cigarette before he throws it on the ground, killing the flame with his boot; he starts making his way over to the entrance when he feels a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the RV.

“Stay here,” Steve orders as he makes his way inside instead, wanting to use this moment to be alone with you, to talk to you, to apologize. He closes the door behind him and takes a look around. Most shelves are empty, covered in dust and cobwebs, some cans and bottles are lying around, and an unpleasant smell hangs heavy in the air. He hears some rustling to his right, followed by a string of curse words falling from your mouth. He follows that sound, careful not to step on any fallen object. He finds you in the last aisle, and he notices that one of the shelves has fallen over, leaving a mess on the floor, some bags of candy and chips lying beneath it and you are crouched before it, searching for something, the variety before you seemingly not satisfying enough.

Steve opens his mouth but he quickly closes it again when he feels the coil in his throat.

“Reese’s pieces and sour patch kids are not the most popular candy in the apocalypse I guess,” you mumble as you turn around, not expecting to be met by hazel eyes and that guilty face. “Oh… it’s you.”

Your face falls and his heart drops, he grows nervous.

“I-I yeah, uh,” he stutters, bringing his hand up to his hair to run his fingers through it. Now that he stands here before you, he doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to start with his apology, he doesn’t even know how to apologize, he was so mean to you when all you wanted was to help, you wanted him to come with you, you wanted him to leave the dying town because you didn’t want him to die with it. “I wanted to check up on you… Nance found a bunch of cans.”

Your eyes scan his face, the nervousness and the guilt filled eyes – that is the only reason why he is here, the guilt is eating him alive and he can’t handle it, it’s not even about you and that he hurt you, it’s about himself, only about himself.

“Yeah, we got lucky.” You mumble as you turn around again, no longer focused on the candy, you just don’t want to face him. It’s difficult enough avoiding him in the RV.

He hates the stoic tone in your voice, it’s so unlike you. Even when he was cold towards you back in Hawkins, you were never like this with him.

He looks down at you, noticing how slow your movements have become, how you are no longer moving the bags of candies around, looking for that one specific one. You don’t want to look at him and he doesn’t blame you, he can’t.

“Can I help you?” He asks, not knowing how to start this off, not wanting to make it any more awkward than it already is.

A sigh falls from your lips, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Steve is being nice, kind – it’s the side of him you were looking for a few days ago, and you couldn’t find it then. If it’s driven by guilt now, then you don’t want this kindness.

You push yourself up, taking another deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You know you have to start talking to him again at some point, you can’t bear this awkwardness for long either.

You also can’t bear this look on his face, those stupid eyes, the pout and his tousled hair. You don’t want to look at him in that way. You know he wants to apologize, you also know that he sucks at it.

“No, I’m done here.” You shrug, gesturing to the box you filled with snacks and toiletries you could find, along with other things you could need for the RV. You’re about to bend down to pick up the box when he stops you by placing his hand before you.

“I got it,” Steve murmurs, adjusting his bat as he bends down to grab the box.

“Okay…” You mumble, pulling back.

You wait for him to move, to turn around and walk out of the store but he doesn’t, instead he straightens his back, with the box on his hands, he directs his gaze at you again.

You brace yourself for what he is about to say, taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest.

He starts by saying your name, softly, carefully. You realize how foreign it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“I-I know this won’t change what I did, what I said but I’m really sorry, I’m sorry for hurting you, for saying those things about your family. I was… I didn’t want to leave, I was angry – and I know that’s not an excuse – I… fuck… I’m horrible at this but I’m just, I’m really sorry. I hope your family is okay and that you will see them again… soon.”

You can hear the desperation in his voice, the need to make this right. You can see the softness in his eyes, something you aren’t familiar with in the slightest. His lips are curled downwards, the sadness in his features so clear.

You nod, the tension in your shoulders from all these previous days slowly falling.

“Thank you, Steve, I appreciate your apology.” The tone in your voice and the look on your face isn’t so convincing though. “And I know that my family is okay, I will see them soon.”

Good. He didn’t kill your hope. He hopes that it’s good.

His lips curl up a bit, you are so set on it, you are so sure of it, that your family is okay and that you will reunite with them. It scares him a bit. You are so hopeful now, so confident about it – what will happen when you won’t find them the way you wish to? What will happen to you? Will you lose yourself the way he did when he lost her? Will you die the way he did? Will you be a ghost trapped in a living body?

You forgive him, but you don’t crack a smile, not even a small one, not like you used to even when he was being an asshole to you. You clear your throat and break eye contact, brushing the fallen strands from your single braid behind your ears.

The tension between you is still there, the awkwardness and the hurt in your features. He has to try harder than this, an ‘I’m sorry’ won’t cut it.

“I–”

“We should go, we need to set up camp before it gets dark.”

Before he can even say, or try to say anything, you move past him, hurrying out of the store, wanting some distance between you just like before. He can’t blame you, he can’t be mad at you but his shoulders slump still, and his face falls too. He didn’t feel this before, he didn’t feel this kind of guilt back in Hawkins because he wasn’t vulnerable, his feelings were bottled up and the lid was closed tightly, there was no space for those kinds of emotions, anything other than anger was impossible for him to feel.

But after he let her go, after he allowed himself to finally grieve and cry, to empty that bottle of emotions, he started feeling everything again, all at once, overwhelmingly so, and now it all feels so intense.

The urge to run his fingers through his hair is strong but his hands are full. He sighs loudly, shifting on his feet, he is about to follow you out when his eyes catch a glimpse of something red underneath one of the broken shelves, something you must have been looking for.

The fire crackles before you, the flames are kept low to not attract attention. You sit close to it, needing warmth on your cold skin, the blanket around you isn’t enough, the gusts of wind cause goosebumps to rise on your skin. It’s mid fall, but it’s already getting so cold, and you could smell the hint of winter nearing.

You can’t help but feel a little jealous of Nancy and Eddie, they get to sleep in the warm RV tonight while you stay out here, doing night watch with Steve. You volunteered yourself, though you quickly regretted it when Steve said he’d join you.

You were successfully avoiding that the past three days, you either did night watch with Eddie or Nancy. Last night you were the lucky one who got to sleep in the big bed while Steve took the couch – now you are sitting here, out in the cold, tugging the blanket closer around you.

Steve left to do a perimeter check, not trusting the area despite how safe it seems compared to the ones you have spent your nights at in the past when you were still by yourself. He didn’t want to listen to you though, he grabbed his rifle and left about twenty minutes ago.

You hold your mug filled with coffee tightly to your chest, chasing that warmth and the smell that reminds you of the past, of simple mornings in your bed with a freshly brewed cup of coffee and your favorite book. You wonder if you will ever get to experience that, if you will find a place that will allow you to live like you used to.

The sudden sound of footsteps behind you, startles you a little, and he seems to notice.

“Just me.”

You wish you could lose that tension in your body again, but you don’t, knowing that you will have to spend the night with him, that you can’t use excuses to run from him, to avoid him, to avoid talking to him.

He walks around you, glancing at you briefly, he places his rifle down, leaning it against the other free camping chair. You expect him to take a seat, instead he walks away and towards the RV. You watch him curiously, how he carefully opens the door and steps inside on tiptoes, not wanting to wake Nancy and Eddie.

You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward a little. You keep staring at the door, waiting for him to come back out, though when he steps back out, you quickly look down, hiding your curious eyes from him.

You hear the click of the door and his boots against the stairs as he walks down, his feet hit the grass in soft thuds. You hear the rustling of plastic. It sparks your interest again, wondering what he got from the RV but you don’t look up, not until his boots come into your vision and he stands right before you.

Your eyebrows pull together even more, a confused frown making its way onto your face. You tilt your head up to look at him, though your eyes meet his only briefly before the bag in his hand catches your attention and suddenly, all the tension in your body disappears, your lips part and you straighten your back, a little too quickly, causing the blanket to fall from your shoulders.

Steve’s lips curl into a small smile, he tries to hide it but the excitement on your face and how your eyes light up, make it impossible for him to.

"Kitkats!?" You yell in a whisper, trying not to shriek and jump to your feet. “You found Kitkats!?”

He can’t hold back the chuckle now, his chest bubbling with an unfamiliar feeling as he looks down at you.

“Yeah, the last bag, it was stuck between one of the shelves,” he explains, biting his cheek when your eyes look into his. “Your favorite candy… it’s what you were looking for, right?”

Your eyes soften and your lips curl into a small smile. He remembered. He remembered your favorite candy even though it was mentioned only briefly. Warmth floods your chest and something flips in your stomach.

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper as you bring up your hand to take the bag from him, “I’ve been looking for them everywhere!”

“Yeah, it nearly got you killed,” Steve shakes his head at you and at your gas station incident before you found your way to Hawkins.

You shrug as you place the bag onto your lap, “now you know how much I love chocolate.”

Steve gives you half a smile and a breathy chuckle, he looks at you for another long moment before he steps back and sits down on the camping chair next to you. He leans back and crosses his feet, staring into the fire.

“Please don’t get yourself killed for chocolate,” he murmurs.

“It’s the only thing that brings me happiness!” You exclaim in that tone that he began to miss.

“Is it really?” He asks you, turning back to look at you. You have got to be the happiest person he has ever met, you always find a reason to smile, you always find something to be excited about, to look forward to, even in a world like this. He can’t relate, not in the slightest.

You look down at the bag of candy, shrugging, “no, you know me. I have a lot of hope.” Your words come out with a saddened look on your face.

Guilt fills him instantly, he judged you for it, he judged you for something that he no longer has. Hope. Life – there is none of that left in him anymore, no light turned on, while yours is still blazing and glowing brightly. Yours didn’t fade, yours hasn’t been touched by the ugliness of this world.

He whispers your name softly, his faint voice so guilt filled.

“It’s good that you have it, that you still have some… life left in you, makes it a bit easier to bear this world.” He admits nervously. “I know you must think I’m a horrible person, I’ve said horrible things–”

“I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Steve,” you interrupt him, turning your head towards him to find him looking at you already, his hazel eyes filled with regret, you know he wishes he could take his words back. “You were hurt and angry, you were grieving.”

He blinks.

“Yeah, but I was an asshole–”

“It’s okay, you apologized, you’re not being an asshole now, that’s what matters.” You shrug, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.

He nods slowly, not moving his eyes away from you. The light from the fire illuminates your face, he sees all the emotions flickering in your eyes, every twitch of your lip, every frown, the softness of your skin, the color of your lips– he catches himself quickly, and instantly forces himself to look away.

“And maybe you can find that hope again…” You add, carefully.

“I doubt that. I never had that in the first place, not even then…” He stops when he catches himself spilling more than he would like to. He turns to you, and you are looking right at him, with a frown on your lips and a curious look in your eyes. You want to know and a part of him wants to talk, to let things out. A part of him even feels like he owes it to you.

He takes a deep breath, looking back into the flames.

“I-I… I feel like a part of me…” He hesitates, struggling to find the right words. “When Robin died, it felt like a part of me was ripped out of my chest and I buried that part with her. The day she died, I died too – only that I am still breathing and she isn’t… I didn’t want to leave Hawkins because I felt like she was still there, like I could be with her. Leaving meant accepting her death, accepting that she is gone, accepting that I am still alive, that I have to find a way to live without her.”

His eyes glisten with tears, his cheeks burn red, illuminated by the flames. He doesn’t hold back, he doesn’t hide the sadness on his face.

You don’t either, you can’t imagine what goes on inside of him, how the sadness eats at him, how the darkness took hold of him.

“I was so angry at myself for not being able to protect her, I was so angry at this world for taking her from me that I grew hateful of everything and everyone, I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want Nancy and Eddie to leave. I now see how selfish that was but in the state I was in, I was just so… mad and unaccepting of the fact that they wanted to live, something that I did not want. I didn’t want to live again. I knew I’d have to the moment I’d step foot outside again, I would have to fight to protect them, I would have to fight for survival, I would be forced to move. I wouldn’t be able to visit her or be with her… ever again.”

Your chest feels tight with grief for him, you can’t imagine what he felt like when he lost her, and even now. You can see how much he is struggling still, the pain in his eyes is so clear, his voice is slightly shaky, like he is about to break into tears again.

He lost someone he loved so dearly. He lost his best friend. You had them too, best friends. But they never stayed that for long, none of them ever loved you the way Steve loved Robin.

You can’t help but wonder if he felt more for her, if it wasn’t only friendship for him.

“Robin was the first person who was my friend not because I was King Steve,” he scoffs at his popular nickname from High School. “She was my friend because she liked me, she was the first person who wanted to get to know me, who wanted to spend time with me, who was there not only on my good days but also on the bad. She loved me for me.” There is a tremble in his voice, a stronger one than before, he is pained, so pained that it hurts your heart.

You don’t know what to say, there are no right words to comfort him, to make him feel better, to take away his pain. He needs this, he needs to talk, to let it out – though you are surprised that he chose to do it with you.

“She was the first person who held me, who comforted me, who was there.” He sniffles, staring down at his shaky hands as he goes back to the day when they were covered in her blood. “I was the last to hold her.”

You blink when you feel your own tears welling up, the warmth stinging in your eyes. You watch how tears start rolling down his cheeks. A part of you wants to wipe them away and take his hand or even hug him, to give him the comfort that he needs. But you doubt that he’d want it from you.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you whisper so sadly that it brings a new wave of tears into his eyes.

His heart feels so heavy, the sadness burning in him, the grief coming back to life once again as he thinks of that night when he lost his best friend, his soulmate, his other half. A moment of weakness and she was gone – it was only a second that he looked away, it was only a split moment that he turned his back before he heard her scream, the pained sound, the ripping of flesh, blood spilling from her neck and staining her clothes and her hand as she clung desperately to the cut in her throat from where the Demogorgon had sliced her skin open. He remembers how he turned around in horror, how his heart stopped beating and the world stopped moving. They almost made it out, they almost made it out of Hawkins together like they always wanted to. Almost. She wasn’t supposed to be the last to get on the bus, it was supposed to be him but he had a child in his arms, a little boy who lost his parents, he needed to get him to safety. Robin was right behind him, she was right there, they were in the clear, she was already one foot inside the bus when that monster came out of nowhere.

He remembers the look in her eyes when he saw what had happened, he remembers the adrenaline that flooded through his body when he jumped out of the bus with an axe in his hand, he doesn’t even remember how he killed it, he only remembers dropping to his knees and pulling her weak body into his arms, he remembers how he promised her.

‘You will be okay, Robin. I promise, you will be okay. I got you, I got you, Birdie.’

But the life in her eyes was fading, tears slipping from the corners and down onto the cold ground, mixing with her blood as he pressed his hand to her wound. She held his hand, gripped it tightly, like she was afraid to let go. She struggled out his name and looked at him with nothing but fear in her eyes, a look that haunts him to this day.

She didn’t want to die, she said so herself, she even begged because she was so afraid, and he was too.

There was nothing he could do, there was no fixing it, there was no saving her. He could only hold her and watch how she died, how she slowly slipped away from him, how in her last remaining moments she only looked at him and into his eyes because that is the only place she found comfort in. She died in the arms of someone she felt at home with, she died in the arms of someone who loved her more than anything and he… he lost that, he lost his home.

When he is done recalling that night, telling you every gory, every heartbreaking detail, he only tastes the saltiness from his tears, feels himself choking up though he doesn’t let the cries fall the way he did that night. He feels his heart hurting once again – though at the same time, it hasn’t felt this alive in a while.

He wipes away his tears, and his voice dies. He doesn’t look to you, not yet but he hears your soft sniffle, hears you shifting around. From the corner of his eye, he watches you put your things down, the mug that must be cold by now and the candy he gave to you. And then, you scoot closer to him and you slowly lift your arm and place your hand on his shoulder, a comforting touch he has grown unfamiliar with.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and he notices how shaky your voice is too.

He turns his head slowly, his eyes searching for your own, he sees every emotion – shock, sadness, pain, understanding.

“I can’t imagine this… pain and what you are still going through. Robin deserved better, both of you.” You look back into the fire, frowning. “I understand why you didn’t want to leave, why you feel that way. I’d feel dead if I lost someone I loved that much.”

Your heart hurts for him, squeezing in a painful way. His words sadden you. He feels dead, lost in a world that took away his other half and now he’s just a shell of himself, a pained soul. You wonder if he will ever find his way back to himself, you wonder if you could if you were in his place.

“I do believe that she is with you though, i-if she was your soulmate, then she is with you… forever. She might have left this world but her energy is still there, always with you, following you every step of the way.”

Steve purses his lips, tilting his head at you, “like a guardian angel?”

A small smile appears on your face, you nod, “yeah, kinda. Maybe she will send you a sign, maybe she did already and you haven’t noticed.”

“A sign?” He shakes his head, still looking at you curiously, “like what?”

You shrug and turn to face him again, “you’ll know it, it has to be something that is– was special to you both, whether it’s a song on the radio or her favorite animal.”

“Oh,” he nods, furrowing his eyebrows as he wonders if he had missed any signs, if he was so focused on his grief that he paid no attention to what was going on around him. He falls silent, eyes focused on the flames before him.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper after a long moment of silence.

He leans forward, pressing his hands together over his knees as he fiddles with his fingers, he looks back at you, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Thank you for telling me, for opening up to me, that means a lot.”

He nods, taking in your softened features, your kind eyes that gleam again, and the comforting smile you look at him with. It warms his insides and causes his cheeks to flush but among these reactions, he also feels something else, a lightness in his chest that he hasn’t felt in so long, he needed to do this, to talk about this, to tell someone what he truly feels.

“Thank you for listening,” he retorts, offering you a smile–a first, a genuine one. Your eyes light up at that, your shoulders rising a bit as you straighten your back, surprise flashes in your features and your smile only widens. It’s endearing, he has to admit that.

“Always.”

You look into each other’s eyes for a moment. You are surprised to see kindness, genuine and real kindness, and you can’t help but feel giddy at that.

You are surprised when he moves closer to you, the smile still lingering on his face. He bumps his shoulder against yours, “I’m gonna be nicer from now on.”

You accepted him for who he is, his grumpiness and his rough demeanor sometimes. You don’t want him to change, you don’t want him to feel like he has to.

“You don’t have to pretend–”

“I am not… I know I’m… kind of returning to who I was… slowly,” he murmurs. It’s something he didn’t want. He didn’t want to heal. He didn’t want to move on because he knew it meant accepting that she was gone but you were right, that night when you found him at her grave, you told him that she wouldn’t want this for him, and he hated it, hated that you were right and he hated how he felt that sparkle inside of him ignite again after he finally allowed himself to properly cry and grieve.

“And who were you?” You asked with that tilt of your head as always.

He knows what Robin would have said and he can’t help but smile.

“... A fucking idiot.”

You giggle at his words but shake your head.

“No, I doubt that!”

“I saw the good in things… something I haven’t in over a year, and now I can– I am starting to feel it again… It’s not there yet but…”

You smile again, looking into the fire. You saw him smiling with Eddie today, heard his chuckle when the metalhead tripped over a log. It was a nice sound and the smile looked good on him.

“Yeah, it looks better on you.” You whisper, not looking away from the flames.

He tries not to look at you for too long but he can’t help it .He likes the way the golden light touches your skin, the way your eyes shine with contentment, the way your body is so relaxed again, something that wasn’t the case the previous nights. He likes the faint dimple on your cheek as you smile. He admires the way your lashes flutter every time you blink, the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, the way you–

He breaks himself out of his thoughts, forcing his eyes away from you, he clears his throat, jumping a bit when he looks down at his backpack, “ah wait–” he grabs it and unzips it quickly, taking out the radio from their living room back in Hawkins. “You guys left it, I thought we could use some music… sometimes.”

You smile widely at him, nodding.

“Let’s see what stations we can pick up.”

While Steve is trying to find a signal, to find a station that plays music, you reach for the second mug you had prepared before and grab the jug where you had cooked the coffee earlier. It’s still hot, steam rising up into the cold air when you pour him a cup. You place the mug on the small camping table that Eddie had set up earlier. Steve flashes you a smile, whispering ‘thank you’ followed by your name.

You open the bag of Kitkat’s, excitement bubbling up in you to taste your favorite candy again. You pick out one of the bars and place it next to his coffee.

“You’re sharing your Kitkats with me? No way!” Steve gasps and chuckles when you roll your eyes in amusement. “Did you just roll your eyes at me, sunshine?”

You giggle at the perplexed look on his face, ignoring the way the nickname made you feel warm all over.

“What if I did?”

“Then I’ll say that one of them,” he points his thumb at the RV, “is a real bad influence on you.”

You snort and shake your head, “hmm, I don’t know. You're sassier than Eddie and Nancy.”

“Me? Sassy!?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, you’re sassy, Steve. Accept it.”

He shakes his head in amusement but doesn’t comment on it, he looks down at the radio when the static noise suddenly disappears and he finds a station.

And surprisingly… ‘Dream a little dream of me’ by Ella Fitzgerald starts playing, filling the space between you.

The song is calm, warm, a distant memory of your father dancing with your mother in the kitchen while they prepared dinner on a sunday afternoon. Then, your brain processed what Steve had said, a question lingering in your lips.

“Why sunshine?”

“Hmm?” He asked, his eyes closed in relaxation as he leans back in his chair. You could see the expanse of his neck, the markings around it, his Adam's apple– You shake your head to focus once again.

“You called me sunshine. Why?” You tilt your head in question and his eyes open, his head turning to face you again.

“I don’t know. You’re just… You just remind me of the sun.” He says as if his words mean nothing, as if his words were just that. Words. You giggle, not understanding the meaning of it.

“The sun? Hot and unbearable?” You say in a joking manner, earning a chuckle from his part, an authentic one. He closed his eyes again, leaning back as the song played along.

“No. Bright and warm.” Your smile fell instantly, not because you didn’t like his definition. Not because you thought that what he described you as was stupid. Not because you thought he was lying to you or making fun of you, because you could hear it in his voice that he wasn’t.

No.

Your smile fell because you swear your heart just skipped a beat.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington blurb #grumpy x sunshine

668 notes · View notes

locketsvault · 4 months ago

Text

「 CUDDLING WITH XIANZHOU 」

pairings: jing yuan x reader ፥ jingliu x reader ፥ luocha x reader ፥ jiaoqiu x reader ፥ moze x reader ፥ feixiao x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: canon angst/traumas, mostly fluffy though, potential ooc for jingliu, luocha, and feixiao (still learning them), potential typos, luochas is shorter, cursing-

other parts: star rail ᨒ stellaron hunters ᨒ jarilo-vi ᨒ xianzhou ᨒ penacony ᨒ amphoreus

a/n: this should hopefully be a complete series in time. thus, I will not be taking requests for the next parts release, they’ll be pumped out in time. I do not mind taking requests on proper scenarios or more elaboration on a character though! no gender or sex mentioned, no pronouns either!

// jing yuan⌇˚.༄

⮑ He’s a big cat, yes he’s cuddly. But you have to manage to get into his inner circle first. He doesn’t touch unless he’s close to someone. It’s just not his thing. And it’s also for safety reasons yk?

⮑ He does enjoy cuddles, he never has had a stigma with it. But he doesn’t cuddle his friends. Especially because he’s a general and that’s just… very weird and unprofessional. He keeps affection for his partner and his partner only. And personally, I think it’s a good sign of trust with him.

⮑ Pda is definitely out of the question. Not because he wouldn’t like it, there’s a chance he could. But as I stated earlier, he is a general. It wouldn’t look the best, and it genuinely wouldn’t be the safest. It’s like waving a big red flag saying you’re his vulnerability.

⮑ You’re more than likely going to be the one going to him with how busy he is. When you’re both home he will definitely seek you out, he can be quite clingy depending on how much he has missed you. As I said, he’s a big cat. But sometimes he’s really busy, sometimes he’s forgetful. Sometimes he needs to rest and his first stop is bed. Even if you’re not in it.

⮑ He’s not a little spoon, that’s not his personality. But, if you tell him you want to hold him, he just might let you. Otherwise, it takes very specific circumstances. His favorite is probably having you lay on top of him, like a weighted blanket. It helps him feel more secure when he’s tired. If he’s trying to stay awake, he will take you curled up into him any way you choose.

⮑ 8/10, he is a good cuddler, when he has time.

// jungliu⌇˚.༄

⮑ The only person she will ever show affection to is her partner. You’d have to be in an established relationship for her to be physically affectionate. She genuinely views it as a weakness for her.

⮑ And I’m saying this before she’s mara struck. Afterwards is well… very different. For obvious reasons. But beforehand, she is a tough person. She’s strict, and I don’t doubt she isn’t strict on herself. Same with Jing Yuan, she is of high status. Underneath all of that though, she finds that when it’s you, she actually enjoys touch.

⮑ Pda is out of the question for her as well. Except she straight up doesn’t enjoy it. She doesn’t want to expose a weakness for herself and you. But she also finds it to be no one else’s business. She’d rather keep you to herself.

⮑ You would have to be the one to initiate physical contact with her. It’s rare that she’s the one to do it. So rare, that even years into the relationship you still get flustered when she grabs your wrist or waist. She leaves you to be the one to ask for it, since it’s not a main love language for her. It’s rare she will say no if you ask or initiate it. She does find your touch soothing. Oddly enough, if she lets you around her when she’s Mara struck, your touch is one of the few things to bring her back.

⮑ She lets you pick, she has no preference. You want her to hold you? Okay. You want to hold her? Mmm, sure. She gets your touch and sees you happy to have your cuddles. When you sleep together you’re usually entangled in one another, taking turns on who sleeps on whose shoulder.

⮑ 5/10, as long as you put in the work she is nice to cuddle. Points deducted due to her Mara struck though :(.

// luocha⌇˚.༄

⮑ His is going to be short because for one, we don’t know too much on him, and for two, I actually haven’t looked into him much. That being said, I think he could be a cuddler.

⮑ I do not think physical touch is one of his main love languages, and from the tiny glimpse into his past that we get, I feel that he has trust issues with those around him, those close to him. Still, for his partner, I think he’d be willing to cuddle them, and may even find himself enjoying it.

⮑ He will only do pda if it’s something you want. I don’t see him as wanting to be touchy in front of others, it’s not exactly respectful. And it draws attention that he does not want. Though… he isn’t above doing it to make someone jealous if they annoy him enough.

⮑ You will almost always be the one seeking him out for cuddle time. The only time he goes to you first is when he sees you need it. He doesn’t do it for himself.

⮑ Since he never does it for himself, it’s whatever position you wish to do. He will gladly do them. Though I don’t really see him being a little spoon in cuddle time. You’re always in his arms, not the other way around.

⮑ 6/10, his cuddles are actually pretty nice, but they could be better.

// jiaoqiu⌇˚.༄

⮑ Oh boy… the sly fox himself, Jiaoqiu. Oh this man is definitely a cuddler once in an established relationship, and it’s a whole other field than what we’ve already discussed. Mating instincts + his need to constantly tease you and mess with you…

⮑ Now does it say anywhere in their lore how they find partners/mates? Not at all. But picking and choosing from what they do say about foxians and what I know about foxes in general this is a headcanon ofc, they’re territorial on those they love, and they love to scent their partners. And I can totally see Jiaoqiu constantly touching his partner, nuzzling at their neck…

⮑ And did I mention he loves teasing? I feel like that’s obvious. Yeah, being his partner doesn’t protect you. He can literally hear your hearts reaction to whatever he does. And he isn’t afraid to call it out. He knows what affects you more and what doesn’t, how to get his way, how to make you flustered. Aish…

⮑ He’s 50/50 on pda. He doesn’t entirely mind it, but he does prefer to keep you to himself. He will hold your hand, wrap his arm around your waist, pull you around with his tail, little things like that. Though after he goes blind he does tend to link his arm in yours when you both are out. Spoilers, it’s not just because it makes navigation easier. Oh, and remember how I said he loves teasing? Yeah he’s not above that in public. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He uses his tail to do it fight me.

⮑ While he can be prideful, I don’t think he’s ashamed of going to you if he wants cuddles or touches. Sometimes, he won’t even ask, if he wants it he will get it. That being said… he’s very busy working for Feixiao, so he can’t always do so. The reason I’m leaning towards balanced is because of that, you may have to hunt him down sometimes. But if he can, he’ll take it.

⮑ Anything. Literally anything. Though I do thing he’d prefer to be the one holding you, he will be glad to just have your touch in general. His favorite positions would probably either be you laying on top of him or sitting on his lap.

⮑ 8.5/10, I’m reducing a .5 bc this mf really loves teasing…

// moze⌇˚.༄

⮑ This beautiful traumatized emotionally locked up boy. He’s never even thought of it before. No like genuinely… He doesn’t like to process his emotions, especially something so deep. Do you really think those at Sanctus Medicius really ever gave him positive touch?

⮑ I highly doubt he grew up with affection, let alone touch. And then later on, I don’t think he ever cared for it. And to add on, I’m sure he whole heartedly believes he does not deserve it. He’s not a good person. And why would he let someone get so close with how dangerous he is? It was easier for him to not think about it, so he didn’t. He never thought about cuddling any potential partner. Until you came along that is.

⮑ He really struggled allowing you to touch him at first. He would tolerate it, stiffen up, waiting for the pain that usually followed. The first time you hugged him he was shocked. He couldn’t run away like normal, all he could do was take it. In time he got used to it, and slowly realized why it was ever considered a comforting act in the first place. Don’t get me started on his habit to disappear.

⮑ Definitely not. Nope. Never. I personally don’t think pda would be something he’d like even if he wasn’t traumatized. It’s not his thing. But especially because of who he is now. I’m so sorry to anyone’s hearts who broke on this one.

⮑ You’ll always have to be the one initiating it. He’s prideful, and won’t admit when he needs a hug, or if he wants to hold you. And he definitely will not admit he wants to be held. You’ll always have to be the one to initiate it. The closest he will get to it, is after a particularly harsh mission (like the wardance), he will have this look in his eyes, a plea to him.

⮑ He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, he doesn’t like feeling trapped. It’s extremely rare for him to feel comfortable being in any position like that. He’s also used to being a protector, he’d want to be one for you as well. His favorite position is probably spooning, him as the big spoon ofc.

⮑ 4/10, he is comfortable to cuddle but it’s hard to get him to, and he’s got a lot of baggage to unpack.

// feixiao⌇˚.༄

⮑ Another foxian, but she is interestingly very different than Jiaoqiu. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still territorial and playful. But she follows her heart more than anything. And yes, she loves cuddling you.

⮑ Feixiao isn’t afraid of touch, she’s fully aware the harm it can cause, but she’s also aware the comfort it can bring. She doesn’t show this side though for safety reasons. But it’s never something she’s had issues with. Her foxian instincts make it stronger ofc. And if she has a partner, she genuinely loves it.

⮑ Pda in itself is something she doesn’t mind. She can watch others do it and have no issue, and fundamentally she wouldn’t mind. However… she is the general of yaoqing, the Merlin’s claw, it’s not safe for her to do so. It’s not safe for either of you, she wouldn’t dare risk your life.

⮑ I honestly believe she’d go to you a lot. Small touches, lingering, like her gaze. When you’re home and can settle in, she will cuddle you without you even needing to ask. However, she is super busy. So getting time with her in the first place is hard. You do have to seek her out still, but she doesn’t mind.

⮑ Shes pretty flexible when it comes to you wanting to be big or little spoon. She trusts you, and she enjoys both. Usually though, you both tangled into one another is enough for her. She likes laying where you’re both facing each other too. She likes looking you in the eyes.

⮑ 9/10, if she had more time she’d get a 10/10 tbh.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

381 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 11 months ago

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 9

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 8 | Series Masterlist | Part 10

Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home, but will he keep his hands to himself?

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought you heard the men wish you well once more when Bucky led you out of the office. You weren’t completely sure since you tried to block everything out, but attempting to disassociate wouldn’t exactly do you any good. The night wasn’t over yet and you had to stay sharp. You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for when he got you home. Were you prepared at all?

Not in the least.

You half expected to walk back through the front of the club to leave, but Ray directed you to a door near the back once he gave Bucky a nod. The car was waiting in the alley and you took a moment to glance up at the sky. You could only make out one star and you wished in that moment you could grow wings and fly away. But when did wishing upon a star do you any good?

“Let’s get you back to your place,” Bucky said, helping you into the car.

You had to give him credit for trying to keep up his end of the bargain by getting you home on time. Your body refused to relax though once he sat beside you and took your hand. Was he trying to get you accustomed to his touch? Make you crave him? It bothered you that in spite of your determination he drew you in to a certain degree. But you wouldn’t let him take you to bed tonight. You weren’t ready to cross that inevitable line.

Maybe, just maybe, if your performance in bed disappointed him, he’d get bored and walk away. The thought almost made you laugh. That wasn’t happening. If anything, he’d probably love teaching you how to be his perfect lover.

“I think tonight went well,” Bucky smiled.

“Which part exactly?” You mumbled, pulling your hand away. The part where he forced you to go, how his men all but admitted they knew Bucky stalked you, or how they beat the hell out of a man?

“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”

“Fighting. You guys seem to excel in that arena,” you said, remembering how they all took turns beating up John. “But I guess Steve does have a bit of that ‘big brother’ vibe, helping you take total control of my life and whatnot.”

“Not total control. I’m still letting you work, but maybe I can buy the shop.” He chuckled at your thunderous expression. The light threat had you seeing red. “I probably shouldn't joke about that, should I?”

“Letting me work? Like it’s your decision? And don’t you dare buy the shop.” You pushed at him to keep from slapping him when he chuckled again. Not with enough force to get him far away from you, but you needed some sort of space in the vehicle. He also needed a good hit over the head. “You’re a bully, do you know that? So are your friends.”

His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin.

“Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?

“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end.

“Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“You’re a person, not a possession, Kotyonok. And not just a person, a good person who gives so much of herself to others. And probably one of the only people who rightfully calls me out on my shit.” His response drew you up short. “Outside of my friends, no one else does that.”

“Maybe because they’re afraid of you and what you can do,” you said after a moment. Fear could make anyone say what they thought people wanted to hear. “Either that or they want your approval,” you added, which you could also understand to a point. People wanted a sense of belonging, especially with those who had influence and power.

“Maybe they are afraid,” he agreed, brushing his lips against your palm again with a sigh. “What is it about me that scares you most?”

“I’m not really sure exactly,” you admitted. There was so much about the situation that terrified you. What he was capable of. How he inserted himself into various aspects of your life and so quickly. How far he was willing to go to keep you. “But I think it’s your conviction. That you’re so sure that I’m your other half and no one can convince you otherwise, not even me.”

You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.

Those steel blue eyes of his met yours and mesmerized you for a heartbeat before you looked away. “Love is scary. It’s natural to be afraid of it.” His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. “But giving someone the most fragile parts of yourself is one of the bravest things a person can do.”

There was truth in his words, but it felt like he moved another chess piece into place. He was trying to disarm you and you couldn’t let him. “Who painted that black dahlia in your office?” You asked suddenly, feeling him move back enough that you could turn your head toward him. “And why display that flower?” You didn’t believe for a second that he chose it for aesthetic purposes.

“Beautiful, isn't it? Steve painted it,” he replied with an odd mixture of affection and bitterness. “It’s for my parents.”

“Steve is a gifted artist.” You hoped your voice stayed even enough that Bucky wouldn’t get jealous of you complimenting another man’s talent. “I don't know if the symbolism of flowers mean anything to you, but the black dahlia-”

“Betrayal. Sadness. Darkness,” he ticked off, his voice cold enough that another shiver moved through your body. “It was the last flower my dad ever got my mom and it serves as a reminder.”

You swallowed as warning bells sounded in your mind to tread carefully. “And what's that?”

He moved close, your eyes shutting as his hand wrapped around the nape of your neck. “That I'll never do to you what he did to her.”

There was suppressed rage within him. Sorrow. It rolled off him in waves strong enough that they could drown you. He said earlier that his dad got what he deserved. What had he done to his mom?

“You’re in pain,” you whispered. He was hurting and you logically shouldn’t care. So why did you want to know the cause of that hurt? “You have to tell me why.”

It wasn’t for you to use to your advantage. You weren’t sure if you could manipulate someone else. If you knew what happened though, it would at least give you more answers to who Bucky was and why he was the way he was. It could help you gain some sort of understanding.

“I’m not in pain when I’m with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his chest. Was he relying on you to chase away whatever haunted him? “Later. I’ve overwhelmed you enough for one evening.”

You let out a breath. You swore he was doing this on purpose, giving you just enough information that you’d wait around until he gave you more. “I can’t argue with you there,” you said, his heart racing under your touch. “Just answer one thing for me, please.”

“What’s that?”

“Marc from the bookstore,” you began, the man’s kind face shimmering in your mind. “Did anything happen to him?”

“I’d question another man being on your mind, but I know you’re just concerned about his well-being.” An easy smile crossed Bucky’s face as you bit your tongue. You could think about anyone you wanted to. “I can’t speak for him right this second, but he was perfectly fine when you and I left. He was just having a chat with one of my associates.”

You exhaled, thankful Marc wasn't hurt. “What kind of chat?” You asked. He was a nice guy, though he did seem to know a bit about Bucky. What exactly was he involved in?

“He just got a warning to be careful about what he does or doesn’t say to his customers.” You tensed before he kissed your forehead. Did he know about the conversation you two had? “And I don’t think the two of you should be alone with each other in the bookstore going forward.”

Just when Bucky had you feeling some sort of sympathy for him moments ago he shocked you right out of it. “Another decision that isn’t yours to make,” you stated, the car coming to a stop. “And you really don’t have to walk me up. I think we’ve had enough of each other’s company tonight.”

“I said I’m tucking you into bed and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The smile he gave you was nothing short of cocky when he added, “And you owe me a photo. I’m going to get it.”

He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car.

“Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”

“Let’s go, please.”

You said nothing else as you went into the building, your anxiety mounting by the second. The slow rise of the elevator didn’t help, Bucky’s hip pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand to have space between you. You figure he’d shove you against the wall and claim your mouth, but he didn’t make a move. It impressed you that he behaved until you got to your floor. It didn’t stop your hand from shaking when you got your keys out.

“Still don’t want to say good night now?”

“I don’t want to say good night at all,” he answered, following you into the apartment and turning on the light. The welcoming feeling you expected when you got home wasn't there. There was a chill in the usual warmth.

“Well, you’ll have to sooner or later,” you said, swallowing when you faced Bucky. He shut the door and watched intently as you set your keys and bag down. You were quiet as you stared back, tension thick as you tried to predict what he was going to do. Once again, he managed to hold all the power in your home.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, heat and hunger in his stare as he slowly advanced.

Your throat went dry as you stepped back. “You have.”

“So beautiful and so good.” You made another move to retreat when he stepped forward, his manner confident and compelling as he reached out and prevented you from moving back further. “It’s driving me crazy not having you yet.”

“Please, you don’t…” you trailed off when he sank to his knees, unexpected heat flowing from your core. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself, his eyes soft as he helped remove one of your shoes. You found it difficult to breathe as he removed the other, his hand brushing your ankle with infinite tenderness. Like it was an honor to touch and be on his knees for you.

“I know the first time I taste you I’ll never want to stop. I’ll have to wake up every day between your thighs. Fall asleep that way, too.” His hand slid up your calf and his eyes darkened when your other hand found its way to his thick locks. Wetness gathered between your legs when his touch moved to your thigh. “Your pussy is hungry for me, isn’t it? My fingers, my tongue, my cock. I’ll feed her well.”

His voice was like velvet. Seductive. Aching. “Bucky…” Your breath rushed out swiftly when he kissed your mound through your clothes, tormenting you with arousal you didn’t ask for. It frightened you.

“I can smell you,” he murmured, nosing along where his lips had been before he sat back. “Smell so fucking good.”

Moving your shoes out of the way, he rose to his full height again as you willed your legs not to shake. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you, let alone speak to you, the way he did. Stark desire. Possessiveness. His form of love. Your heart pounded and you refused to answer him or glance down. If you looked at the front of his pants…

He took your hand and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom. Your heart pounded with mounting speed, your heels digging into the floor. “You still haven't kissed me,” you blurted out, hoping it would prevent him from taking you to bed. Or would he take that as an invitation to kiss your lips?

“No, I haven't.” You tried to keep some distance between you as he went to your bed, his hand moving along the blanket. You couldn't breathe. “It scares you how much your body wants mine, doesn’t it?”

“Is that what you think?” You asked, forcing air back into your lungs. It did scare you. It also scared you that you didn’t push him away or scream when he dropped to his knees to remove your shoes. Where was your fighting instinct?

“It is what I think.” The ease in which he moved away from the bed to your dresser to find your pajamas frightened you, too. Like he belonged in your room. You thought back to the night he broke in and left your gift on your bed. How much time did he take to look around? “Like love, giving your body to someone can be scary. You have to trust that you won't get hurt when you’re physically vulnerable.”

“You swore you wouldn't hurt me,” you reminded him.

“And I won't. But you know what else I think?” His magnetic gaze stayed on you as he brought a nightgown over. “That no guy has ever really taken care of you and you’re apprehensive to let me try.”

If you were apprehensive, it was because he was a walking red flag. “What makes you…” Your words stopped when he grasped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Your arms instinctively went up before you realized what you were doing. Removing your shirt, you didn’t get a chance to cover your breasts before he slipped the nightgown on you.

“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.”

The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?”

“I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”

Exhaling slowly, relief flooded you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to take what he wanted. “You won’t?”

“Not tonight.” He shook his head even as his fingers moved along your waist. “Like I said, I’ve overwhelmed you enough. Sleeping with you might really put you over the edge.”

“Thanks.” He desired you, but continued to hold it at bay for your sake. How long would that last? “I appreciate that.”

“And we both know the moment I take you to bed, you’ll be begging for more.” His voice dropped as he toyed with the soft fabric. “And as much as I want to stay in bed with you all night and morning and give us what we both crave, I still need to get things in place at the penthouse and you need rest. You understand.”

You tried not to smile and failed. He acted as if he was doing you a favor. Cocky bastard. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer until then.” Sarcasm continued to be a good way to deflect.

He exhaled at your light teasing, his body still a bit tense. Being close to you and not having you was probably driving him mad. “Maybe we'll have to have another private call and finish what we started. Give us both some relief.” He turned you toward the door and gave you a light swat on your ass. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth before I change my mind.”

You made it to the bathroom in record time, not having to be told twice. You didn’t want to risk staying there in case he lost his resolve. Looking in the mirror as you went through the rest of your nighttime routine, you expected to look more exhausted from the whirlwind of the day. You somehow looked wide awake. Was the experience giving you thicker skin? Or did his desire for you somehow give you a bit of a twisted spark? You’d still be billing him for your future therapy bills either way.

A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?”

“I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?”

He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”

You stiffened as you stared up at his face, your heart simultaneously racing and breaking for him. Love was something that provided a sense of connection, fulfillment. It was a way to show you that you weren’t alone in the world. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that you could build a life with someone. Bucky believed he was that someone.

Why?

You weren’t sure if it was his yearning gaze or if you were ready for the night to end, but your expression softened as you imagined meeting him in another life. Going on fun dates, talking about books, making each other laugh as you cooked together, snuggling under a blanket as you talked about your future. You found yourself smiling at the images that went through your mind. What could’ve been. What could be if he lessened his hold a bit on you.

He audibly exhaled when he snapped a photo on his phone, making you blink. “Thank you. Now I can look at this whenever I’m not near you and need to feel your love.”

Words escaped you, the invisible collar around your throat getting tighter. You could only nod and wonder how you kept throwing fuel on the fire of his want for you. Which one of you would burn first?

“Get some sleep. Dream sweet dreams.” You felt featherlight kisses on each eyelid when you shut them. “You know, I’ll sleep a lot easier once you’re in my bed.”

“If you get me into your bed,” you mumbled, refusing to look at him.

“Stubborn kitten.” He chuckled and gave each eyelid one more kiss. Why were his lips so soft? “Maybe I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow so I can take you to lunch. You can tell Addison all about it.”

“Maybe.” You yawned and snuggled more into your pillows. “Good night, Bucky.”

A finger moved along your cheek before it stopped abruptly. “Good night, Kotyonok.”

Bucky still hadn't kissed your mouth.

You didn’t open your eyes as he left, but you didn’t fall asleep right away either. Your body was too wound up. Too many questions went through your mind. Like what happened with his parents and how exactly he’d move you out of your place.

The man was a step ahead in everything. You’d be in his penthouse before the month was over. He’d get his way, but maybe it didn't have to be his way completely. He could give you an area in the place for you and you alone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he did say he’d make it up to you by dragging you out tonight.

And if he cared the way he said he did, he could give you that one small thing.

Is our poor Kotyonok starting to accept the inevitable? Will Bucky stop by the shop? And how much longer until he really takes you to bed?Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

1K notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 1 year ago

Text

chemical override (2)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : aaand I just couldn't let this storyline go. Typical. Best to read part one before this one :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan have gotten a lot closer since the press tour for season two, but neither one has made a move. The reader is spotted with another costar, giving rise to rumours of romance.

The press tour came and went like a fever dream. From Paris to New York to London, everyone had been highly anticipating your upcoming show.

Albeit you had a minor role, it all seemed like everything you could ever wish for.

A blossoming career. Lifelong friends made from your peers. The overwhelming support from audiences.

Only two episodes have since been released to the public, and already your character has become a fan-favourite.

Sadly, you and Ewan only had that one press day together, after which you were paired with other cast members. That didn't stop the onslaught of comments under your interviews with him, fans stating how good you looked together. Speculating whether there was something going on between you two.

You are good friends, but that's all.

He calls you often, mostly in the evenings after you're both finished with work. He sticks close to you during premiere after-parties. Now and again, you would catch him looking at you from across the room.

But... well... that's all there is to that.

Maybe he's just being nice. Maybe he only sees you as a good friend, and this is just how he is. With his effortless charm and cheeky remarks that can be mistaken as flirting, you think that maybe you're reading too much into it all.

"Ewan likes you, you know," Phia looks at you over her shoulder, as she does her makeup in front of your dresser.

The cast is having a private get-together in Fabien's apartment for a night, and yourself and Phia decide to prep together, her own place only being five minutes away from yours.

"He's just being nice," you shake your head at her observation, as you sift through your closet looking for a top.

"He's not that nice to everyone," Phia laughs. "Trust me, that lad fancies you and it's plain as day. Ask anyone, I mean, Tom even pointed it out the other day."

"And Ewan was there with you guys?"

"Uh-huh," Phia swivels her chair around, all done, nodding at you, "Poor sod just about turned red as a beet."

"What did he say?" you ask, not even bothering to hide your curiosity. Phia's got your back, after all.

"Well..." Phia glanced away, weighing just how much she is at liberty to say. Ewan's her friend just as much as you are, and she doesn't know how deep she can meddle in this.

"How bad is it?"

"Nothing bad, promise," Phia walks over, then takes over the task of sorting through your closet, "He likes you. A lot. But it seems like he's apprehensive about jumping into a relationship right now."

You plop down on your bed in a huff, "I guess that makes sense."

"Chin up, darling," Phia turns around, arms folded behind her, concealing her chosen top for you. "You're both rising stars, with great careers ahead of you. If you're going to commit to each other, you're gonna have to do it right."

You smile, because you can't help it, the high from landing your dream career not yet subsiding.

"And," Phia continues, "even if he's too chicken to make a move, that doesn't mean you can't torture him with this." She grins, presenting a green satin top, the material weightless and shimmering.

"This? Are you sure?" It was definitely revealing, and it would have your back exposed, only tied together by two strings.

"Ewan loves green," she hands it to you, and you hold it up with concern etched in your features.

"I guess I could wear this," you mumble.

"Oh, you will wear it," Phia smirks, pushing you over to your bathroom so you can get changed.

Already wearing your trusty pair of bootcut jeans, you shimmy into the slinky top, calling out to Phia so she can assist with securing the strings at your back.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she beams at you in your bathroom mirror. "Ewan is going to melt at the sight of you, doll."

"Huh," you say, checking yourself out in the reflection. "Okay then, I think we're ready - "

Your phone rings, cutting you off. Phia beats you to it, and her face is scandalous when she raises your phone up like it's precious evidence.

Ewan's name flashes bright on the screen.

"Oh, look who it is!" Phia practically sings, "Lover boy."

"Give me that," you demand, reaching for your phone, but Phia quickly sidesteps you and presses the screen to answer the call.

You gasp, and the both of you struggle to keep down an incoming fit of giggles. Phia then clicks on the speaker mode, and Ewan can be heard saying your name, his tone a bit confused.

"Are you there?" Ewan asks.

"Yeah, I'm here," you take the phone, waving to Phia so she doesn't make a fuss.

"Hmm," he says. "I hope I'll be seeing you tonight. The party won't be as good without you."

"Well, Phia and I just finished getting ready," you glance at her, and she makes a kissy face at you.

"Hello, Mr. Whipped," she playfully cuts in with this greeting, effectively letting Ewan know he's on speaker.

You hear Ewan snort on the other end, before he says, "Hello to you too, Phi."

"We should be heading out in 15 minutes, and we'll be there on time," you let him know.

"Okay, I suppose I'll see you guys there," he replies.

"Okay." A beat of silence passes, and Phia just shrugs at you.

"I, uh - " he finally speaks up again, but hesitates.

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat, having decided on saying, "Nevermind. See you soon, darling."

The line cuts off. You slowly let your hand fall to the side, sighing at how it abruptly ended. Shaking off your worries, you look at Phia once more, and she already has her line all prepared. "See you soon, darling," she recites in a low voice, imitating Ewan.

"Oh, shush," you shove her playfully, and she shoves you right back.

"I can't wait to see you, darling," she continues teasing you, laughing, and you can't help but blush and smile, finding her endearing.

"Well, let's go," she says, picking up her things, "your darling boy of Derby awaits."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Fabien greets you at the door with that perfect smile of his, arms outstretched to pull you and Phia into a hug.

"Welcome, welcome," he greets, leading you into his apartment, where most of the cast is already assembled, including Ewan.

You happily exchange pleasantries with everyone. Chatting with Emma and Olivia. Profusely thanking Matt when he gushes over your outfit. Catching up with Harry and Bethany. All the while sensing that Ewan watches you from somewhere in the room.

You're eventually directed by Tom to the corner table where Ewan and Phia share a loveseat, drinks in hand.

"I'll get you a drink," Tom kindly declares, heading to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Tom," you say. You sit next to Phia, leaving her between yourself and Ewan. You finally say to him, "Hey, you. How are you doing? Got here early?"

Ewan's jaw clenches and loosens, and you catch his eyes quickly drift down to rake over your figure. When he meets your eyes again, his pupils are considerably dilated.

The boy just shamelessly checked you out.

"Ewan," you hear Phia say, elbowing Ewan from beside him. "She just asked you a question, be polite." She wags her eyebrows at you, mouthing the words lover boy.

Ewan hears that, astute as he is, and it snaps him out of whatever haze he seemed to be stuck in.

He shakes his head at himself, offering a smile to you. "I got here just before you guys," he answers. His voice lowers when he adds, "You look really good, darling."

You smile in return. "Thanks. So do you."

Phia beams at the exchange, then makes some excuse of having to catch up with the others. The look she gives you before sliding off the seat reveals that she just wanted to give her two lovebirds some privacy.

"So," Ewan inches closer to you, his arm outstretched on the back of the seat, "how did the script turn out?"

"It was better than expected," you say. He refers to a script you told him about a week ago, for a potential project which will shoot in Atlanta in the fall. "I'm supposed to meet with the director pretty soon to discuss it further, but I think it might be the right fit."

"That's amazing," he expresses sincerely. "Rian Johnson's a brilliant director and they would be lucky to have you as their lead."

"Thanks, Ewan! Yeah, I'm really excited for it, it's a lot different from House of the Dragon, but I'm all in for the challenge, you know."

"Is it a drama film, or thriller, or - "

"Oh, it's a rom-com, actually."

"Oh," he nods, leaning back a little, like that needed a bit of processing. "And you'll have a romantic co-lead..."

"That's right, and - " you confirm.

He smirks, like he just thought of something amusing. "Well, maybe I could - "

But you finish your statement then, " - I think Jacob Elordi has just been selected as my partner in the film."

His face scrunches in apparent distaste, "Has he now?"

"Mhmm." You note the switches in his expression, how his face fell when you mentioned your upcoming co-star. He can't have something against Jacob; they already did a film together and it seemed like it went well on set.

That thing nags at you, that little spring of vanity and desire creating warmth in your stomach. That Ewan might be jealous.

Which is ridiculous, given your shared line of work. Besides, you were not together. What could he possibly be jealous over?

"You've worked with him, right? What's he like?" you continue the topic, keeping watch for the minutiae of his reactions.

"He's... he's a good actor, I guess. Dedicated and all that. Pleasant on set." His answer is curt, not giving away any details, tone flat like he's disinterested.

"Riiight," you nod slowly, smiling impishly at him to get him to lighten up, "I'm sure he'll be just as pleasant on our set then. Good to know."

He catches the look you're giving him, causing the corner of his lips to pull in a soft crooked smile. "Hmm, be that as it may... I think I'll do a much better job as your love interest, don't you?"

"Oh, will you now?" you lean forward, and he does the same.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" he whispers conspiratorially, like there's a secret to be shared. "According to the internet, we have a lot of chemistry. Practically oozing with it, based on some comments I read."

"You've been lurking on comments? You? The last crusader against all social media?" you joke, fully knowing that he keeps a few shadow accounts just to keep up with how his work is being received by the public.

"Sure," he shrugs his shouders dramatically, " that, and also to stalk your page, of course."

"Oh, of course," you quip, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

You share another laugh, feeling light all over, and even lighter when his fingertips brush against your arm for a few seconds. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you sneakily rub your arms to cover the effect he had on you.

Tom reappears from the side, handing you a drink as promised, "What are you kids giggling about over here?"

"Nothing," you share, "just that Ewan is planning to join Instagram."

"A damn miracle, that!" Tom exclaims, lightly punching Ewan in the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Ewan looks at you warmly, playing along, "you can be in charge of keeping my account running."

"Tough job. All those fan messages I'll have to answer."

"Yeah, you'll have to quit your day job," Tom adds jokingly. "It was fun while it lasted. The industry will miss you."

You feel a pressure by your shoulders, and notice that it's Ewan's arm snug behind you on the seat. In the midst of conversation, he must have drawn even closer. You glance down briefly and see his knees touching yours.

You nervously take a huge gulp of your drink. There is no hiding the effect he has on you now.

"Don't you two look cute?" Tom comments, then he stands right in front of the loveseat and puts his phone up. Before you can say anything, a clicking sound makes it clear that he has taken a photo of you and Ewan.

"Awww, I ship it," Tom gushes afterward as he looks at the photo. He then reaches over and passes his phone to you.

The image betrays what the both of you are probably struggling to hide - it's there, clear as day. The attraction, the tension, the chemistry. Ewan practically has his arm around you, looking at you intensely with the inscrutable spark in his eyes. His teeth lightly clamping down on his lip in desire.

There's a subtle scrunch between your eyebrows as you return Ewan's look, a result of trying to maintain composure when he is so close. But your posture is relaxed, almost cozying right up against him, showing just how comfortable you feel around him.

As Tom just said, you ship it.

If only.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Two weeks after the party at Fabien's, the main cast members of House of the Dragon are engaged in an additional round of promo work. Season two is at its peak, and the media is just clamoring to get more from the cast.

Some are booked for photoshoots, others for interviews.

While a minor character in the show, they also wanted you to take part in engaging with the press, but you are already busy with your upcoming film with Jacob. You're currently out in LA, doing rehearsals in preparation for the actual shoot.

Ewan is yet again lounging in a hotel suite, about to do an interview with Vanity Fair.

He sends you a text, in response to your complaint about a difficult scene.

You had shared, It's a pretty dramatic scene. What if I can't cry on command?

He easily texts back, You can do it, darling. Trust me, you're one of the most talented young actors I know.

- Thanks, Ewan. Good luck with your interview!

- Thank you, good luck with rehearsal. I miss --

Ewan pauses typing. I miss you, he aches to send. He does miss you so much. Why can't he just commit to it?

He ends up sending, I'll see you soon, in its place.

He knows he wants to do everything with you. Take you out on dates. Sweep you off your feet. Travel to wherever you will be filming just to see you. Confess how much he wants you.

Why can't he? It's terrifying to him, being with someone, in danger of falling in love - truly falling in love - with a fellow actor, and that relationship exposed to much public scrutiny.

He's always been a private person, so will he be able to handle all of that? Acting is his first love, and he's devoted to the craft. If he succumbs to his desire for you, will that cause him to go off track?

What if the relationship is not well-received? He is aware of how passionate fans can be. What if they cruelly decide to make you the object of their ire as a result? He can't possibly put you through that.

But... but fuck it.

The Aemond in him turns proud and defiant. Why can't he? Why shouldn't he?

He types another message in a second, then clicks send.

And I miss you.

His publicist walks over to him, giving him a few last-minute instructions. In a few minutes, the room is all composed and the interview is ready to begin.

The line of questioning has almost become routine-like for him, a far cry from when he first started giving shorter interviews for previous projects.

The answers flow from him smoothly, stemming from his care for Aemond and the show.

Near the end of the interview, he is asked about the remaining normalcy of his life. Surely it has all changed ever since he landed the show?

"Well, I try to go back to my hometown as much as possible. Just, you know, spending time where I grew up really helps maintain a sense of normal, for me," he responds. "It keeps my feet planted on the ground, that is, when I'm not on dragonback flying high up in the clouds."

The interviewer promptly laughs at his last remark, then asks, "What's next for you? Your fans are just eagerly awaiting your next project. Maybe a film like your new costar? Everyone is excited for her film with Jacob Elordi."

Ewan can't hide the way he perks up at the mention of you, never mind how Jacob is included too. "Ah, yes, well there are some things down the line for me. More than anything, I want to choose a project that I am passionate about, with a story and a character that is rich and complex. Whichever that is, I guess you'll find out soon!"

"Yes, yes, we will!"

"And about her project, I mean, I'm just so proud of her. We've become really close and I think she's a fantastic actress and person. She's going to smash it in this film, that's for sure."

The interviewer nods enthusiastically, smirking as he adds, "Apparently a bit of romance on the cards for her as well!"

"You mean in the movie?" Ewan replies, half-smiling in confusion. But he spies his publicist gesturing to the interviewer from behind the camera, a signal that private affairs are off-limits.

After a final question, the interview wraps up.

His publicist grumbles to him afterward, as they prepare to leave the room. "It was clear that no private questions are allowed. Sorry about that, Ewan."

"It's alright, that was... well, what was he on about? Did he mean romance between the two of us?"

"I believe he's talking about Jacob and her. They were spotted out in LA today. The interviewer probably just wanted you to spill some dirt on your costar."

Ewan frowns, "What do mean they were spotted?"

His publicist appears surprised at his question, and his obvious interest. "They've been papped walking arm in arm in LA. Seemed pretty close, not that it's any of that interviewer's business."

As they walk out of the hotel, Ewan can't help but do an immediate Google search of your name, and sure enough, the headlines about your walk with Jacob are abound.

He can't pinpoint how he feels as he sees the photos, the statuesque Jacob with his arm around you as you beam up at him. He notices that his grip on his phone has tightened, so he turns it off quickly and shoves it in his pocket.

Whatever this is, and how it makes him feel, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit.

His phone vibrates from his pocket, but he ignores it.

So he doesn't yet see your reply.

I miss you too.

💌 next chapter

Ewaaaan! Make a move, my guy!

As much as we'd like to see them make declarations of love or get into the passion quick, I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. How would two young actors begin dating? Reader, kudos to you for keeping it cool as a cucumber thus far - it's up to Ewan to make the big move.

Part three may be the last. What'll they be? Just friends? PR relationship? Notorious fling? Or new celebrity power couple?

MASSIVE thanks for all the lovely feedback for part one! 💙

Update: if you wish to be tagged in part three, let me know in the comments 💌

#ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

2K notes · View notes

clairewritesfanfics · 1 month ago

Text

Villain Creation System Chapter 10

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

CHAPTER 9: Just Spit It Out! Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

Markus Sebastian Grayson <[email protected]> to you <[email protected]> Subject: Date

*When: meetup at 13:00 ends at 17:00

Where: Hutt Aquarium

Dress Code: Casual (comfortable shoes for walking are highly recommended)

*I’ll pick you up in front of your building and the date may conclude earlier or later depending on the state of things; ideally, dinner will be had at the Hungry Hippo.

I also attached a copy of the aquarium pamphlet and of the most recent Hungry Hippo menu. (But I advise not reading the pamphlet for maximum fun.) Don’t worry about the expenses. My friend broke up with his girlfriend and gave me the aquarium tickets for free, and the restaurant has an affordability rating of $$ out of $$$$$ according to the Let’s Dine app. 2 attachments

huttaqua.pdf hippomenu.pdf

I can’t wait.

Mark regretted that last sentence the instant his finger clicked send, but the wifi was stupidly fast tonight and the panic slowed his brain cells. The email was sent with a swoosh before he could even think about unplugging the wifi.

He reclined on his chair, rolling it backwards until the back hit the edge of his bed.

He agonized for several nights over what to do for his first date. He had dates before, but let’s face it, they were just an extension of foreplay. Dinners and drinks were a mere prelude to sex. Mark knew what to expect, his dates knew what to expect, everything was easy.

You tried to make things easy for him. After he confessed his true feelings–the very memory burned his soul with the desire to drill into the core of the Earth–he hadn’t known what to expect. He knew that you liked him, you did tell him, but the moment that “I like you” left his tongue, a question popped up in his head, various questions, actually: what if you didn’t mean it the way he did? Thinking back at it now, the word you used was interest; he was the one who asked if you liked Mark Grayson. Saint Aquinas claimed that people can only love what they know, that love follows knowledge, so what did you mean by “vice versa”? What did love mean in the context of our conversation? What does love even mean to you?

All those pesky questions had him spiraling, but you didn’t giggle or smile or mock him after he told you. It was like his confession rebooted you, erased your annoyance and disappointment, and you regarded him with a detached, but pensive expression, the face of a scientist looking through a microscope or a glass window. Before he could embarrass himself any further, you posed a simple question: Should we go on a date then?

He remembered his head nodding and mouth answering on their own. You offered to plan the date and that was when he actually regained control. More or less. “I’ll do it!”

“Good, but I’d like to offer some suggestions.”

“Sure!”

“Please stop yelling.”

“Okay!”

“...hm.”

You then gave him a clear and concise set of conditions: public places only, nothing that requires formal clothes, and if they were to dine together, the eatery should be within a reasonable price. You specifically told him to keep the expenses as low as possible, even giving an upper limit of 30 dollars. He appreciated it. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted, and more importantly, he liked someone considerate. It was sweet that you factored in his financial wellbeing when setting the rules, though ultimately unnecessary. Mark had relatively expensive hobbies for someone his age, he spent a fortune on his bass and didn’t mind spending his savings on his bandmates and friends, but the GDA paid for everything else, including his mother’s…well, everything. Money was not an issue, but you were so firm with your conditions, so he decided to lie about the tickets.

He then rolled back to his desk and reread his email.

My friend broke up with his girlfriend and gave me the aquarium tickets for free.

Looking at it now, doesn’t this make him look too frugal? Almost cheap, to be honest. That’s not good. Crap. Plus, aren’t you like, superstitious? You believe in ghosts, maybe you believe in bad omens. Wouldn’t you think badly about tickets from someone fresh out of a break up? Sure, Mark made that up, but what if you cancelled on him? Crap,crap,crap.

Before he could spiral again, his laptop lit up.

Mark didn’t expect to receive an immediate reply, it was two a.m. after all.

…two a.m.

When he realized what time it was, he covered his face with his hands. Wasn’t sending the invitation past midnight too desperate? Not to mention rude? What if you were sleeping and your phone was right next to your pillow and you didn’t leave it on silent mode and it lit up and dinged right next to your ear and you’ll hate him for waking you up?

He reluctantly opened the email.

You <[email protected]> to Markus Sebastian Grayson <[email protected]>

Email received. Thank you.

Mark tried to scroll down but there was nothing else.

“That’s it?”

He folded his arms on the desk and buried his head. You weren’t upset, you weren’t going to cancel on him. Considering his near-breakdown minutes ago, this was a good thing. Still, he can’t help but be disappointed.

Swoosh.

He craned his neck and saw another message. It was short and simple and clear. I can’t wait too. Those four words pulled on his lips and he typed a reply: You’re still up?

You: No, I’m sleeping, if you can’t tell.

He grinned.

Mark: Busy thinking about me, I hope.

You: That’s right.

His fingers flinched. Blood rushed to his neck and ears and he covered his mouth. He thought he could be safe via email but there goes that tactic.

You: I’ll be going to bed now. Next time, if you want to chat with me, just use your phone like a normal person. This type of conversation clutters my inbox.

He replied: Good night, princess. Promise you’ll dream of me?

You: Phone. Good night, Bassy.

He chuckled and then flew to his bed, opening his phone to reread the emails.

***

The dormitory elevators had their own rush hours so you prepared in advance and sat down at the lobby before lunchtime.

The beauty of routine was that it didn’t waste brain power making multiple choices. For example, when it comes to classes, you have a predictable set of clothes ready on rotation. There was no fretting about whether to go cute or sexy or demure or girly or tomboyish or punk. It wasn’t like you hated dressing up, in fact, it was very fun; but in your world, life was formulaic (by design) and there was no need to dress up. Even in the social events you attended, there was a certain dress code. There was no overthinking to be done.

You didn’t want to overthink your clothes for this date, but you spent a whole night trying on different ensembles and even after you decided on an outfit, you still changed it the following morning. The system didn’t comment, only followed you around with the two status meters. The black bar remained steady at 35%. However, including the minor increase from when you replied to his email, the affection score totaled to 69.2%.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at your own giddiness. You felt silly feeling these butterflies in your stomach, but it couldn’t be helped.

It wasn’t Mark that made you feel this way. Sure, he was physically attractive, easily the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in person, and he was charming and smart and funny in his own Markish way, but this feeling wasn’t because of him. No, you reasoned, the butterflies are because you haven’t had a date in ages. That’s right. You nodded. This excitement was because you were thrilled to experience a date again. Your last one was so long ago, a lifetime even, that this might even be your first date.

The system, who’d been snooping on your inner thoughts, rolled its eyes and then alerted you.

[Host, your escort is here.]

Your surprise overrode the desire to correct Zero-One as you glanced at your phone. He was thirty minutes too early.

You hurried towards the entrance, but before you could grab the doorknob, the door swung open, revealing Mark. His normally loose and fluffy hair was combed and parted ¾ to the side. He wore ripped jeans and a white t-shirt under a leather jacket, left completely unzipped. A silver chain hung from neck and he had a silver ring on the thumb wrapped around the doorknob–his other hand wore a similar ring, it glinted under the fluorescent light as Mark held up a mini bouquet towards you.

“Hey, princess.”

“...hi.”

“This is for you. Obviously, haha.”

You gently took the white and purple flowers from him. It was obvious that they were fake flowers and the bouquet itself was shorter than your forearm.

“I debated whether to ask whether you were okay with flowers or not. I wanted to surprise you, but I was worried that you might be allergic, so I decided to get you a fake bouquet. That way, we won’t end up in an emergency room and you don’t have to worry about carrying a giant bunch of…are you…okay?”

They’re just flowers, you thought. You had no need for flowers. You couldn’t take care of anything other than cacti and these weren’t even real plants so you didn’t understand why you were crying over them.

You raised the bouquet in front of you as you turned your eyes away from him. “I’m–” you hiccuped “–fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. “I should’ve asked you–”

“No.” You shook your head, wiping your eyes. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re early.”

“I’m not that early.”

“It’s an hour and a half before one p.m.”

“I–well–I misread the time, no, actually–”

“It’s okay,” you stopped him before smoke could blow out his ears. “I’m the type to prepare early too.” As if on cue, your stomach growled lowly.

“I haven’t eaten breakfast either.”

An impatient voice spoke behind you: “Well, we want to eat lunch, so can you guys move?” There was a small crowd forming in the lobby, fellow tenants who were on their way to lunch. Some looked bored, some irate like the young woman behind you, but a good deal of the people seemed interested in your conversation with Mark, who grabbed your hand and smiled. “Sorry for the trouble. Have a nice lunch.” You’ve noticed that Mark was capable of a lot of expressions, his smile alone carried variety. This current smile had flowers blooming around him. It felt very fake, though that was because you spent so much time observing and interacting with him. If you hadn’t gone the extra mile to study him, you would have fallen victim to that smile.

The girl’s cheeks turned red, though less out of anger now, and she huffed, “Whatever.”

Mark led you out the lobby and to a nearby bench outside.

“We can grab something to eat if you want,” he suggested, patting the leaves off the bench.

“I have a couple of energy bars in my bag. Let’s see… chocolate strawberry, peanut butter and lemon vanilla–you don’t have to do that,” you said as Mark unfolded a blue handkerchief and placed it on the bench.

He ignored your words and motioned for you to take a seat.

Well. The handkerchief was already dirty anyway. Might as well. “Thank you.” You sat down and presented him with the snack bars.

“That’s what you’re having for breakfast and lunch?”

“I want to save my appetite for when we have dinner,” you muttered, too busy ruminating on which flavor to eat, to notice how Mark covered his mouth.

He gently put his hand over the energy bars.

You finally looked at him, but this time, he wasn’t looking at you. The tips of his ears were pink as he stared at the ground and asked, “Maybe you should save that for when we’re walking in the aquarium. I’m actually really hungry, how about we go to the café?”

“If we do that, won’t that mean less money for dinner?”

Mark’s eyes flickered towards you before he smiled, revealing a canine tooth. That smile meant he was genuinely amused.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“There’s nothing funny about being smart with money.”

“I know, I know, I swear I’m not laughing at you. You don’t have to worry about the expenses, I have savings especially for this.”

“For girls, you mean?”

The joyous expression left him and it was your turn to laugh, hiding your own smile with the bouquet. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Mark refused to take cash from you and insisted on paying for both your orders. Starving as you were, you weren’t about to bankrupt him and opted for a light (and cheap) meal of black coffee and an eggdesal.

When Mark returned to your booth, however, his tray carried one eggdesal and a large serving of fluffy waffles topped with whipped cream and blueberries and soaked in maple syrup.

You covered your stomach.

Mark unloaded the plates and cups on the table. “Bon appétit.”

“You’re not eating eggdesal?”

“It’s not the only thing I eat here.”

“I see.”

You cleaned your hands with wet wipes, offered a piece to Mark, and grabbed your eggdesal. The bread was lightly toasted on the outside and smelled heavenly; between its soft, white inside was cheese and scrambled egg was a cheery yellow–it was neither too runny or overdone. You took a bite. The sandwich was sweet and salty with a bit of tang thanks to the ketchup.

You washed it all down with fresh hot coffee.

Almost perfect. Your only complaint was that the whole pandesal was tinier than your fist and was gone after three bites.

You glanced over to Mark, who wasn’t even halfway through his waffles.

Feeling your gaze on him no doubt, he raised his chin and you swiveled your head away, pretending to look out the window.

[Ding. Affection: 69.3%]

“You know, I think I overestimated myself,” Mark said, cutting the waffles in half. “I don’t think I can finish this alone.”

“You’ve barely started.”

“I know when I’m beat.”

“That’s today’s special right? You should savor it.”

“I’m someone who doesn’t force myself to eat once I’m full, if you won’t eat then I guess we can just leave the rest behind.”

You shoved your empty plate towards his. “Well, if you insist. I hate wasting food.”

He bit down a chuckle and transferred half of the waffles to you, scraping and pushing most of the whipped cream and blueberries on your share.

You didn’t know what expression you were making but you didn’t bother masking it. You made a quiet vow to treat him to something just as delicious in the future.

There were blueberries baked into the waffles and the syrup didn’t taste artificial. It was perfect, you moaned.

[Ding. Affection: 69.4%]

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You chomped on a blueberry.

“I’m getting full just looking at you.”

“Eat. Don’t let your waffles get soggy.”

“Right, right.”

You two dined silently until you spoke up, “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“How come you don’t like dining at cafés?”

His fork and knife stilled in the air. You expected the affection level to decrease, but that didn’t happen.

“I was hoping you’d forget about that,” he joked wryly.

“Oh. Sorry. You don’t have to answer.”

He ran a hand through his hair before he leaned forward. “Tell you what, princess, I’ll answer if I get to ask you something.”

“Fair enough. What’s your question?”

“What are you expecting from this date?”

You cocked your head to the side. Is that it? “I’m hoping to get to know you better.” What a waste of a question.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why else would I ask you out?”

“You didn’t ask me out, I–”

You gave him a look and he backed down. “Okay, yeah, you asked me out.”

“It’s your turn to answer,” you said.

He slumped in his seat. “Right…it’s not a big deal.”

You waited for him to continue.

Mark adjusted his position and plopped his chin on his palm. “Mom likes coffee, so she used to take me to this coffee shop where she would help me with my homework or read to me. It was where I met William, you remember him?”

Your fingers twitched.

[Host, in the canon timeline, William Clockwell is Mark Grayson’s best friend. He is a major supporting character.]

You knew. This brain knew.

You couldn’t meet Mark’s gaze. “Yeah…” you muttered.

“It’s okay if you don’t, it’s been a while, and I don’t think I even invited you to my ninth birthday, sorry about that, by the way.”

He continued, eyes glazed over, “It was after dad left. Mom would take me to the shop but didn’t stay long, told me she had to work, and she’d pick me up before sunset. But one day she was late. William’s mom offered to walk me home but I didn’t want to bother her, so I went home alone. I had a spare key with me so I didn’t bother ringing the doorbell.”

A shadow fell over his face. “I could hear weird sounds from the kitchen. I was what, eight, nine? I thought I was going to crap my pants, but I went inside anyway. And then, I saw them, my mom and William’s dad.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Mom saw me but I ran out the door before anything else could happen. I waited for them outside. Once they were done, mom told me to get back inside the house and you know what she said to me, to her traumatized son that caught her having an affair with his friend’s dad?”

You shook your head.

He rolled back his shoulders and grinned. “She asked me, ‘Did you finish the worksheets I gave you?’”

“...oh.”

He hummed and raised the cup to his lips.

You pondered over what to say next. Would it be wise to offer an “I’m sorry”? You have read your fair share of household scandals, real and fictional, but you were ill-equipped in dealing with this.

Perhaps sensing your dilemma, or maybe he simply didn’t want to discuss the current topic further, Mark had another question: “What’s your favorite animal?”

“Huh?” You didn’t have one, every species had something to offer, though some were more conventionally adorable than others. “Cats and dogs, I suppose.”

“That’s boring.”

“I–”

“Ask me.”

“Okay, what’s your favorite animal?”

“Hyenas.”

“Huh.”

“They’re cute and over-hated.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“My guess would have been wolves.”

“Wolves are cool, but they’re no hyenas.”

“Uh-huh.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he went on a whole spiel about how cool hyenas were and shared fun facts about them, like how a group of hyenas are called a clan or cackle (‘not packs!’ he insisted).

When he finished, he puffed his chest, like his mini speech successfully converted you to loving hyenas as much as he did. “Well, what do you think?”

“I think you’d look good in a collar.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, like a dog collar but for humans.”

“…you mean a choker?”

“No, I mean a collar, the studded kind. You have the neck for it,” you remarked, pointing your knife towards his white neck, “though I guess a choker is aesthetically similar.” A choker would be harder on his throat, you thought, a collar would be less restrictive.

Mark shook his head and transferred more blueberries on your plate. “You got weird kinks, princess.”

[Ding. Affection: 69.7%]

He seemed to be in a chipper mood.

All righty then.

“We still have some time before we leave for the aquarium.” You dug into your coin purse for a quarter. “Heads or tails?”

“I don’t even know what I’m betting on.”

“We both finished our drinks and I’m not going to spend five minutes arguing over who gets to pay for the second round. So, heads or tails?”

He beamed, showing off his little fangs. “Tails.”

***

The aquarium was flowing with visitors, mostly families and some young pairs of lovers who clung onto each other like newly weds. However, it wasn’t so packed that it made you nauseated. There was a sufficient number of people that added to the hype of it all. It was a lively atmosphere.

As Mark had suggested in his email, you decided to be spontaneous and didn’t open the pamphlet.

The tour started with a walk through the Freshwater Garden, a collection of fish, frogs, toads, turtles and insects found in rivers and ponds, segregated accordingly. The walls and floor were mostly wood and decorated with stones and green, lit up with soft, warm light.

A few kiddos strayed from their parents’ sides and bent over the pond in the middle of the main room. They pointed at the log in a corner where a snapping turtle stood. Two other turtles tried to climb on, rolling the stump until the snapping turtle splashed into the water.

“I told you he was going to fall–you owe me a candy bar!”

“Shut up!”

You snickered at their antics. Must be nice to be amused by the smallest thing.

Mark nudged you with his elbow as you two passed by the river section. “Judging by that giant smile on your face I’m guessing the aquarium was the correct choice.”

“I thought you got the tickets because your friend broke up with his girlfriend.”

He blinked.

You guffawed. “I’m kidding. This is great, no offense to your friend, but I’m glad his love life crashed and burned. Museums are one of my favorite places.”

He exhaled. “That’s a relief.”

“I have another question, though.”

“Go ahead.”

“If you had a choice, without worrying about the cost, would you still have chosen an aquarium for our first date?”

He paused, tilting his chin to think. Then he replied, “Yeah, I would have.”

You two passed through another vestibule, creatively labeled Under the Sea. The warm wood was replaced by a deep blue velvet. The glass walls and ceilings curved over you. Gone were the mossy rocks and roots of trees, showing only corals and sand.

You held yourself back from skipping towards the colossal school of anchovies.

Mark followed your line of sight and strode towards the fish.

You followed suit.

“Between hiking and scuba diving, which do you prefer?” He asked.

“I guess it depends on my mood. Both of those things can be expensive and require stamina that I don’t have.”

“Okay, how about this: would you rather have a picnic somewhere on a mountain or at the beach?”

“If I really have to choose, I guess I’d go with the beach. You?”

“It depends on my mood.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

He then stepped aside, signaling you to go on. You shrugged and made your way deeper into the aquarium with Mark half a step behind you.

You two ambled in silence until you stopped again in front of a tube with a bloom of jellyfish, each one no bigger than your fingernail. “I’d like to change my answer.”

“You prefer the mountains?”

“No, not that. This.” You gestured at the transparent blobs behind the glass. “My favorite animal.”

Mark bent over the tablet standing in front of the tube. “Turritopsis dohrnii, more famously known as ‘the immortal jellyfish.’”

“Aren’t they cool? I didn’t know they’d be here.” Your shoulder bumped into his as you looked closer at the little miracles. “Once they reach a certain age or as a reaction to certain stimuli, they revert back to being polyps. Can you imagine de-aging like that?”

“I can, actually,” he mumbled.

“If we humans discover a way to replicate their cells’ differentiation process, we’d be able to solve cancer and even replace missing organs! These jellyfish are the future.”

Mark slid his palm over your forehead before it hit the glass. “They’re also aggressive invaders.”

“They’re cooler than hyenas.”

“Wha–take that back.”

“No, sorry, immortal jellyfish beats a bunch of furballs.”

“Furballs? Furballs?”

You laughed and walked away.

You two reached the final exhibit, The Deep, and the moment you stepped inside, you were assaulted by a blast of ice-cold air. The tunnel was pitch-black, with only the faintest lights on the floor to line the path forward. Understandably, the place did not house living creatures from the deep sea, rather it projected 3D holograms that floated across the dark tunnel.

You started shivering, but not from the cold alone. This darkness was too familiar. You’re suddenly brought back to the Void, the Nothingness that waited for you if you failed.

Perpetual nothingness.

You were starting to get dizzy when something heavy covered your shoulders. It was Mark’s leather jacket.

“I probably should’ve recommended a sweater, too,” he said.

You grasped the lapels and breathed slowly. “Thank you.”

He offered his hand and you didn’t hesitate to clasp your quivering fingers on his warm palm.

Mark started walking and he posed another question, “Do you think it’s better to be good or smart?”

“That came out of the blue,” you joked.

“I’ll forgive that horrible pun if you answer honestly.”

An oarfish hovered over you. “So that’s why you asked me whether I preferred the mountains or the beach. You could have just asked me from the start. I don’t like dawdling.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not German.” A few crystal jellyfish danced over him. Their blue-green luminescence lit his eyes, made them look like they were glowing themselves. “‘The wise love water, the good love mountains. The wise are active, the good are tranquil–”

“–The wise are joyful, the good enjoy long life,’ was it?”

His hold on you tightened briefly.

You watched the jellyfish bob away. “I don’t think we’re supposed to choose. I thought the whole point was that we need to be both to live a harmonious existence.” The Earth was neither made purely of water nor soil, it was beautiful because it had both.

“But what if you have to choose…” he whispered. “What if being good means sacrificing your own happiness? Wouldn’t being wise be better?”

“That depends. Smart and wise aren’t synonymous. Confucius believed that wisdom is rooted in fairness though, so if you choose to be wise then that means choosing what is right, not just for yourself but for everyone. Wisdom exists to temper goodness so that we can live a moral life. Using Confucius to excuse selfishness is, well…you know.”

Mark’s hand was colder now.

“I can’t say that Confucius is my favorite philosopher though. I shouldn’t be saying this, but,” you said as you followed the movements of a slow anglerfish above you, even its weakly lit lure would shine in the Void, “but if I had to choose between the happiness of strangers or my own, the answer is obvious.”

[Ding. Affection: 70%. Darkening: 35.2%]

***

There was a gift shop strategically positioned right outside The Deep. It was white, blue and gold and appeared rather fancy for a gift shop. Aquatic creatures decorated every corner, ranging from a school of clownfish painted onto a wall to a giant octopus holding coral-shaped baskets of stuffed sea animals.

A twentysomething lady dressed in a white dress shirt and a navy blue apron greeted you with a practiced customer service smile. “Good afternoon and welcome.”

You nodded politely while Mark fired his own bright smile back at her. “Good afternoon. Is there something special going on over there?” He was referring to the crowd huddled over one side of the store.

The saleslady blushed and handed you each a pamphlet. “The aquarium is doing a limited time collab with Stacy’s.”

You skimmed the robin’s-egg blue paper. Stacy’s & Co. was a jewelry company that was famous for its bracelets. A rather on the nose parallel to a certain jewelry company back in your world.

“We have earrings, necklaces, bracelets and anklets, even keychains and accessories for pets. All are aquatic themed and I’m sure you will find something you like. We’re also offering a really good deal for ring sets, perhaps you and your girlfriend would like to purchase a pair?”

“Actually–”

You cut him off and responded, “We’d like to take a look, thank you.”

She gestured for you to follow her to the display case. Expectedly enough, the other guests that swarmed here were couples. Everyone was fawning over the ring sets, but you weren’t interested in that.

Instead you pointed at something in the necklace section. “That one.”

The saleslady blinked. “Pardon?” She was tempted to rub her eyes because surely you weren’t pointing at that, were you?

“That chain collar looks nice. I want him to try it on.”

Mark pointed at himself, equally confused as the woman behind the counter.

“It’s pretty, I think it would complement your throat nicely, not to mention your collarbones.” Though with his current getup the latter wasn’t so obvious.

You then turned to the saleslady. “He has a pretty good neck, don’t you agree? He could model with it.”

“Um, I-I don’t–”

“Take it out please.”

Mark put his hands on your shoulders. “Now, princess, that’s sweet and all but maybe not something that’s clearly designed for dogs?”

“Have you seen the necks of some dogs? I’m sure this will fit you just fine.” You turned to the woman. “You think so too, don’t you?”

The saleslady pitched in nervously, “I’m afraid I can’t encourage wearing animal accessories.”

“Aw. That’s a shame.”

“Yes, a real shame,” Mark said, softly shifting your attention to the human collection. “How about earrings?”

“But you’re not pierced, and I doubt they sell fake earrings.”

“I meant for you.”

“Oh.”

Mark then asked the saleslady for earrings that were suitable for everyday wear. She showed you several pairs. Most were studs, some were huggies, others were jackets. All of them sparkled.

They were great, but honestly, you weren’t interested in getting a pair for yourself. If anything, you were busy imagining Mark with piercings. With his sense of style, it felt appropriate, but could his skin even be pierced? You thought back to what you know about Superman and his kin. They had kryptonite but the stingy system refused to share much about Invincible’s weaknesses.

Mark then interrupted your deliberation, “See anything you like?”

“Not particularly.”

“That’s okay. Wanna go see the other souvenirs? Miss Rinna here said they got a bunch of stationery.”

Your quiet search for his kryptonite vanished instantly at the mention of stationery.

***

“You seem pleased,” he commented, amused as you two entered the Hungry Hippo.

You hugged your shopping bag full of notebooks close to your chest, not too tightly or you’d ruin the bouquet Mark gave you. “I had a couple of stationery that was ruined. I’m still using them as scratch paper, but I can’t use them for serious writing.”

“Maybe get water-proof paper next time,” he suggested playfully.

“I never said that they got wet.”

He stiffened. “Well… I just assumed. I read somewhere that nine times out of ten, water…ruins paper.”

“Is that so.”

“Uh-huh.” He then pulled a chair for you. “Anyway, d-do you know what you want?”

You sat down and unfolded a piece of paper from your pocket. “Everything’s here.”

“You made a list. Of course.” His tone was more teasing than it was mocking.

You handed the paper over to him and he raised his arm until a waiter arrived. Mark recited his and your orders, thanked the waiter and turned to you.

“So.”

“So…”

“How would you rate today’s social event?”

You fiddled with the strap of your purse. “It’s fine.”

You regretted your words as you can see his hypothetical ears droop. You hurriedly corrected yourself, “I mean, it’s going great so far–amazing.”

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned closer. “Really?”

“I love the aquarium and the holograms were a smart way to incorporate deep sea life into the exhibit without hurting real animals, plus I got to buy some new notebooks, and I really love the flowers,” your words came out like bullets. You had real fun today, all thanks to Mark. You didn’t want him to think you were saying these things as mere platitudes.

“So does that mean…”

“What?”

He cleared his throat but refused to look you in the eye as he repeated, “Does that mean this won’t be our last date?”

“I hope not.”

Your reply caught him off guard because his head swung at an inhuman speed to face you. “Really?”

You held the bouquet to your smiling mouth. “Really.”

He was about to say something when his watch beeped. All that happy, puppy dog energy was nowhere to be seen.

[Ding. Darkening: 35.5%]

He hit something and the watch began vibrating. “Anyway–”

It kept on vibrating.

“That looks important.”

“No, it–”

The watch blinked red multiple times before the vibrations became beeping again.

He looked about ready to smash the thing.

You reached over and put a reassuring hand over his. “Go.”

“But–”

“We ordered a lot. lt will be a while before the food arrives, so go.”

He sighed and gave you an apologetic smile. “If the food arrives before I come back, eat without me. I have an account here so don’t worry about the payment.”

“Take care.”

He seemed hesitant to leave just yet. His expression told you he wanted to do something else, but before either of you could move, his watch started flashing.

He cursed under his breath and rushed outside.

[There seems to be another alien intent on invading Earth.]

“I’m sure it won’t take long.”

You retrieved a pocket-sized edition of Slaughterhouse Five from your bag. One of the perks of the after-life, or this life before the after-life, was that it gave you the chance to do inventory. You barely scratched the surface of your TBR list but here the stress of real life, of rent and grades was gone. You can indulge in recreational reading without guilt.

You lost yourself in the very first line and didn’t even register the arrival of your meal thirty minutes later, not until the waiter respectfully brought it to your attention.

You thanked him but decided to give Mark five more minutes.

[Host.]

“...”

[Host!]

“What now?”

[You told me to alert you if five minutes have passed. It has been exactly five minutes since your command. The food is starting to get cold.]

You slipped the folded Stacy’s pamphlet between your pages. “And Mark?”

[Still saving the world.]

You put away your book.

He did say to eat without him so you picked up your fork and tore into your still-hot tomato and basil spaghetti. Sweet and tangy with just the right amount of garlic and some chili flakes that added an extra kick.

You sighed contently at your choice for dinner and sipped slowly on your banana milkshake. It was inexpensive and filling compared to the other options on the menu.

In contrast, Mark ordered a lot for himself. Chicken salad with honey mustard dressing, baby back ribs with a side of peas and mashed potatoes, cheesy pasta with extra broccoli and two sliders.

He must have been really hungry. You felt bad for him, being a superhero sounded like a nuisance. If you had powers, you’d keep it to yourself and use it to make life easier, not worse. Like, if you superspeed, you would use it to get some extra sleep.

But Mark was too kind. His food will be cold by the time he comes back.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Your waiter approached just as you flipped to the next chapter.

“Really sorry to disturb your reading but I would like to ask if everything was to your liking?”

“It was, yes.” You shifted on your chair.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Just a refill for my water, thank you.”

As the waiter left your table, the system dinged.

[Not that I care how you spend your free time, but how long are you going to wait for him?]

You focused on your book. “As long as it takes.”

***

Shit,shit,shit,shit,shit.

Fucking insect fucks.

Fucking Cecil.

Fucking team can’t do anything right.

Mark shoved Rex off him when the idiot tried to get him to drink. He ignored Eve’s attempts to get him to stay for the post-mission meeting and flew back to the Hungry Hippo as fast as he could. He swapped into his civilian clothes mid-air and hid the backpack someplace safe.

Three hours. He kept you waiting alone at a family restaurant for three hours.

He wouldn’t blame you if you stayed just so you could slap him hard and tell him never to email you again. He wanted to slap himself.

Still, he needed a chance, he needed to try and explain and apologize, so even if you remained just to yell at him he would take it.

After surveying the area for any witnesses, he deemed the parking lot behind the restaurant safe and landed. He took a moment to fix his appearance, using a car window as a mirror.

The hair he had meticulously brushed and moussed at dawn was tousled by the fighting and the flying.

He didn’t have time to waste so he combed it back with his fingers and ran.

Please be there, please be there…he prayed as he scoured the tables from outside the windows.

At eight p.m. the place was packed with families from the aquarium and nearby mall, but his heart sank when he realized that you weren’t at your table.

He checked his phone. No messages. He should have sent you a quick text, but everyone kept screwing up that he didn’t have a moment to spare.

He should still apologize.

He started typing, but someone approached him. “Mark?”

“Princess?”

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He pocketed his phone. “You’re still here?”

“As you can see.”

Yes, he could see. You were even wearing his jacket.

“I was trying to look for you inside, through the windows.”

“I felt bad because there was a long line of people wanting a table so I asked them to wrap up your food and the staff were kind enough to let me hang out on the waiting chairs.”

He was speechless.

“I’m sorry for giving up our table.”

“No, no, you got nothing to apologize for. I was the one who abandoned you like a di–like a jerk.” He closed the distance between the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a sincere smile. “All is forgiven.”

“You can hit me if you want.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Are you sure? I was horrible.”

“It was work.”

“That’s no excuse to leave you waiting for hours. I should’ve called or texted–”

“You came back, didn’t you? We’re cool. Seriously.” You shimmied your right hand, which he now noticed to be holding a pocket book. “I was going to text you that I left our table but I forgot the time.”

“You brought a novel to our date…”

“Don’t take it personally. I have a couple of fanfics and scientific journals on my phone for when I get stuck at parties.”

He shook his head, chuckling.

Mark called for a cab and then walked you back to your building. He refused to let you carry any of the takeout bags.

“Are you sure you don’t want the ribs?”

“I’m good.”

“The salad? The sliders?”

“They’re yours, Mark.”

Truth be told, he knew you chose the spaghetti because it was the cheapest pasta, same with the milkshake, so he ordered more than he needed. He had planned to split his food with you until those damn aliens got in the way.

He was tempted to use the “I’ll just end up throwing the food away” card again but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“I had a really great time with you,” you said, cradling your shopping bag. “I haven’t had that much fun in forever.”

“First date in a while, huh?”

“The last one was a lifetime ago, and even then, nothing comes close to today.”

His chest beamed with pride. “I’m glad to hear it.”

He mirrored your smile.

You two stood in front of the dorms in comfortable silence.

Mark didn’t want to say goodbye just yet, but he knew the date had to end at some point.

He was about to bid you good night when you suggested, “Wanna go up to my room?”

taglist: @weponxwrites, @ratkidcalledallie, @qxuanii, @lilacoaks, @gluttonousriceflour, @phisen, @sleepyzzz3, @whaaaaaaaaat111, @ik33ponmakingc00ki3s, @lonely-entity, @noxus123, @ilovecoffe0

Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoyed our date with Mark (I designed the aquarium based on the Animal Crossing New Horizons aquatic gallery huhuhu) I'm feeling under the weather so I won't be able to answer any messages immediately. I also haven't edited this chapter as thoroughly as I wanted, so if you see any inconsistencies with the time or Mark's favorite animal being a lion instead of a hyena (it was a lion in the first draft), you'll know why. (_　_|||) bye bye for now

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-every-character-fate-comics/

Alternate Invincibles from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/

CHAPTER 11: Coming soon. Series Masterlist

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #reader #imagines #y/n #fem reader #vcs #villain creation system

221 notes · View notes

requiemforthepoets · 7 months ago

Text

it’s you that i’ve been waiting for, all of my life ⟢ LN4

final part of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part two

PAIRINGS: lando norris x asian!female!reader

SUMMARY: with a lot of your family and friends are either getting engaged or married, it made you think about a lot of things—well, mostly marriage.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, mentions of marriage, reader having a wedding fever, fluff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 9.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: finallyyyy, this is the last part of my crazy rich asians au. the rest of the updates for this series is already smaus—which will be updated sporadically. to all that read, commented, and reblogged, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. tbh, i wasn’t even sure/confident with this three part series bc it was literally my first time writing this kind of fic, so thank you so much. as always, your reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this last part! also, happy new year, guys! 🥺❤️

You and Lando had just finished settling into your hotel, when your phone buzzed with an incoming facetime call from Nick. Surprised but not entirely shocked by his timing, you answered the call and held your phone up as you sat on the edge of the bed. Nick’s face appeared on the screen, expression tense and unusually serious.

“Hey, is Rachel with you right now?” he asked without preamble, tone laced with urgency.

You frowned, confused by the question. “No, she’s not,” you replied, glancing at Lando, who was sitting on the edge of the bef watching your conversation. “Lando and I already left Singapore earlier, we’re in Malaysia right now. Why? Is everything okay?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily before diving into the whole explanation. He told you and Lando about how your Auntie Eleanor had hired a private investigator to dig into Rachel’s background. Your stomach sank as he laid it all out—the dossier that your Auntie Eleanor had compiled, which included several Chinese news articles and missing person reports with Rachel’s mother’s photo. All these revelations had been shared with your Ah Ma at the wedding reception, and things had escalated from there.

You can slightly hear Nick’s voice trembling as he recounted how your Ah Ma had become mad and forbid Rachel from continuing her relationship with him, declaring that Rachel’s family background poses a threat to your family’s reputation. The words made your chest tighten, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside of you. Then it all started to make sense now—Rachel’s disoriented state, the way she fled from the reception without looking back.

“Wait,” you interjected, still processing everything. “Ah ma was at Colin and Minty’s wedding? I didn’t even see her, she rarely goes to events like that unless her presence is absolutely necessary.”

Nick nodded, confirming your thoughts. “She was there. It wasn’t planned for her to come, but I think Mom had managed to convince her.”

You sighed. “Well, that explained a lot. No wonder Rachel was running off like that, she must’ve been completely blindsided.”

He paused before continuing. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she’s not answering my calls or texts. I just—” he trailed off, his frustration evident.

Thinking quickly, you remembered something Rachel had mentioned in passing. “Maybe she’s staying at her best friend’s house? She told me once that she has a close friend in Singapore.”

Nick’s eyes lit up slightly. “That's a possibility. I’ll try to find out where her friend lives.”

“Do you need me to come back?” you asked, words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “Lan and I can fly back to Singapore tonight if you think it’ll help.” you glanced at Lando, who nodded in silent agreement.

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I think I can handle it for now. But if Rachel answers your texts or calls, can you let me know right away?”

“Of course,” you said firmly. “I’ll text her again and keep you updated.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a small, grateful smile.

“But hey, listen,” you said carefully, “if you find Rachel—in which I know that you will, you have to give her some time. Don’t push her, and don’t force anything.”

Nick was quiet on the other end, so you took it as a queue to continue. “She’s been blindsided, completely blindsided by all of it. Think about it, the information that Auntie Eleanor dumped on her, how it was thrown at her, none of it was easy for her to process. She didn’t even see it coming, and honestly, no one would’ve been ready for something like that.”

“I know,” Nick murmured. “But I just want to fix it. I want her to know that none of this changes how I feel about her.”

“I know you do,” you said gently. “But right now, Rachel needs space to process everything. Imagine if you’re in her shoes—finding out things about your family’s past in such a public and humiliating way. That kind of betrayal isn’t easy to shake off, especially when it comes out of nowhere.”

You paused, choosing your words carefully. “You have to be patient with her, Nick. Let her come to you when she’s ready. If you try to force her to talk or rush through it, it might just push her further away.”

There was another silence, then a resigned sigh from Nick. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I hate it, but you’re right. I just feel so useless sitting here, doing nothing.”

“Nicky, you’re not doing nothing,” you assured him. “The best thing you can do right now is respect her boundaries and be ready when she’s ready. Let her know you’re there, but don’t overwhelm her, and Nick…” you trailed off.

You briefly hesitated before adding, “Rachel was thrown into a pit of wolves. Our family, for all its grandeur and well, admit it or not, can be really cruel. She wasn’t prepared for it, but that’s not on her—it’s completely on us, and if you love her, you’ll help her navigate through it when she finally comes around.”

Nick’s voice softened. “I do love her, more than anything.”

“This might sound very cliché, but trust the process,” you said. “She’ll come back to you when she’s ready, and when she does, you’ll be there for her.”

“Thanks again,” he said quietly. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” you replied. “Just keep me updated, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t,” Nick promised.

“Alright, take care.” you said before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, you tossed your phone onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling in frustration. Your call to Rachel had gone straight to voicemail, and though you had sent her a message, you couldn’t shake the knot of worry in your chest. Flopping down beside your phone, you exhaled deeply. The fact that your Auntie Eleanor had gone so far as to hiring a private investigator made your blood boil. It was not just meddling—it felt invasive and cruel.

“Why?” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. “Why did she have to go that far?”

Lando glanced over you from where he was sitting, watching you silently for a moment before he laid down beside you on the bed.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just…Auntie Eleanor. Why would she do something like that? Nick and Rachel were happy, and Ah Ma already liked Rachel, so why did she have to ruin it all? What does it even accomplish?” your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lando listened patiently, letting you vent. When you paused, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” he said gently. “It’s frustrating, and it’s not fair to Rachel. But you know Nick, he’s not going to give up on her just because of this. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed. “But what if they don’t? What if this just ruins everything?”

“It won’t,” he said firmly. “They’ve come this far, haven’t they? Something like this might take time to work through, but if they’re meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other. You’ve got to believe in that.”

His words were calming, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right,” you said, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully loosen. “I just want them to have the happy ending they deserve.”

“And they will,” Lando assured you with a small smile. “But right now, you’ve got to focus on what you can control. We’re in Malaysia, come on, let’s enjoy our time. Relax, and take a breather from all the chaos back in Singapore.”

You gave Lando a weak smile, appreciating his efforts to make everything better. “Yeah, you’re right. We should make the most of it while we’re here.” pushing yourself off the bed, you glanced towards your suitcase. “We’ve got dinner plans later, don’t we?”

Lando grinned, standing up and holding out his hand to help you. “We do. Let’s go have a great night.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and smiled at him. “Alright.”

The first day in Malaysia began early, with the rising sun casting a soft golden glow as you and Lando set off for George Town in Penang. The drive was long, roughly about four hours from Kuala Lumpur, where you’re staying, but the journey was as much a part of the adventure as the destination. Lando was behind the wheel, where one of his hands was steady on the wheel, and his other free hand was laced on your fingers. His eyes occasionally darted towards you while you admired the scenery as you passed by.

“So,” he started, glancing at you with a teasing smile, “are you going to be my personal tour guide for the day?”

You grinned, looking at him. “Of course.”

When you arrived, George Town immediately swept you off of your feet. The streets were alive with so much color and culture, with the British colonial buildings standing gracefully alongside vibrant Chinese shophouses and intricate mosques. The air smelled of spices and street food, and the chatter of locals filled the space with a sense of warmth and energy.

“Look at that one,” he said, pulling you gently toward a painting of a little boy riding a bicycle. “We have to take a photo here.”

Lando pulled out his camera and posed next to the mural, with a wide grin on his face. “Your turn, come on,” he said after snapping his photo, motioning for you to take his place. “Hold on,” he gestured for you to pose in front of the mural. You rolled your eyes playfully but obliged to his request, striking a simple pose.

“Perfect,” he said as he snapped the photo before lowering the camera. “Though the real thing’s better than the photo,” he added cheekily, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Smooth,” you teased, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless.

You wandered through the streets hand in hand, occasionally stopping every so often to admire the architecture of the small shops selling everything ranging from antiques to handmade crafts. At one point, Lando pulled you into a quiet alley where a local artist was painting a new mural. He tilted his head, examining the work.

“Think I could pull something like this off?” he joked, referring to the mural’s intricate design.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, laughing. “But I’d pay good money to watch you try.”

The day would not have been complete without food. You introduced Lando to char kway teow, a flavorful stir-fried noodle dish. He took his first bite, his expression shifting from curiosity to delight.

“Okay, this is incredible,” he said, nodding enthusiastically as he went for another bite.

“You have a good taste,” you replied, stealing a noodle from his plate.

“You mean you have a good taste,” he corrected.

The day continued like that—strolling, laughing, stealing kisses, and taking photos. Every corner of George Town seemed to hold a story, and every moment felt like it was just for the two of you.

As the sun began to set, the sky turned a warm orange, and Lando snapped one final photo. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today,” he said softly, looking at you instead of the view.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Me neither.”

The second day began with the sun streaming through your window, casting a warm glow over the start of what you knew would be an unforgettable day. After breakfast, you and Lando set off for Paradise 101 in Langkawi, a private island that promised a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation, and just an hour away.

As soon as you stepped onto the island, the soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the salty breeze filled your senses. Lando reached out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze he looked out at the clear blue sky.

“Ready for some adventure?” he asked with a contagious smile.

“Always,” you replied, already feeling the excitement bubbling up.

The first activity on the list was parasailing, something you had always wanted to try. Strapped into the harness side by side, the instructor began counting down, and then, the boat picked up speed, lifting you and Lando off the ground, soaring above the waters. The world below looks so tiny, and the ocean stretches endlessly beneath your feet.

“This is insane!” Lando shouted over the wind.

You turned your head to look at him, his expression lit up with excitement. “Right? Look at that amazing view!” you replied, pointing towards the horizon where the ocean met the sky.

“Look something out of the painting,” then glancing at you, there was a mischievous glint in Lando’s eyes. “Though the view isn’t half as good as the one next to me.”

You laughed, swatting at him lightly. “You’re such a cheeky little shit.”

When your feet touched the sand again, Lando was already pulling you toward the ziplining station. The zipline took you across the island’s canopy, and each time you landed, Lando was there waiting, stealing quick kisses before moving to the next line.

“Race you to the bottom,” Lando challenged, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

“Oh, you’re on,” you replied, determined.

As the two of you zipped down, the wind whipping past, the sound of your laughter had filled the air. Lando had beaten you to the bottom, of course, but he immediately pulled you into a hug when you joined him, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The afternoon was reserved for a private yacht cruise, just the two of you. As the boat glided through the calm waters of Langkawi’s northern coast, you couldn’t help but marvel at the picturesque coastline, with the emerald-green water shimmering under the sun.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Lando asked, leaning back beside you, his sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Perfect,” you agreed, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You know,” he began, “we should bring the others here sometimes. They’d love this.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you replied, looking at him. “Though I kind of like it being just us right now.”

“Me too,” he said, voice soft, brushing a kiss on your forehead.

You decided to give kayaking a try, but knowing Lando, it probably would be a chaotic one. “You’re paddling the wrong way, babe!” you exclaimed as Lando’s oar splashed water everywhere. “Are you sure you know how to paddle?”

“Of course I do!” he argued.

Lando was just kept on paddling in circles, the kayak even refused to cooperate—or so he claimed.

“Babe! You’re just steering us into circles. You’re doing it wrong!” you called out, grinning mischievously.

“I’m not—hold on, are you gaslighting me right now?” he accused, realizing your game.

“I would never!” you said, feigning innocence.

Lando almost toppled over the kayak trying to adjust, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. But eventually, you found your rhythm, paddling side by side through the tranquil waters.

“Okay, maybe this teamwork thing isn’t so bad after all,” he admitted, voice softer now.

“You think?” you teased, glancing at him with a smile.

The highlight of the day came with the private UNESCO Geopark mangrove cruise. You and Lando had been transferred to a small explorer boat, where you were taken through a landscape that felt almost otherworldly. Sheer limestone cliffs rose majestically from the water, their forms resembling ancient temples.

“This is incredible,” Lando murmured, voice tinged with awe as he leaned over the side of the boat.

You nodded, eyes fixed on the towering cliffs. “It feels like we’ve stepped into another world.”

The guide led you through the Tanjung Rhu River, Kisap River, and Kilim River, each stretch offering breathtaking views. At one point, you visited a fish farm and even ventured into the crocodile and bat cave, marveling at the natural formations.

When the cruise ended, the day slowly gave way to evening, and you returned to the resort. Lando had made a reservation for an outdoor dinner at the resort’s restaurant, with the table set against the backdrop of the sparkling Andaman Sea.

You were sitting right across from Lando, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. “Today was really perfect,” you said, voice warm.

Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Well, that’s because I spent it with you.”

“To more days like this,” you said, raising your glass with your free hand.

“To more days with you,” Lando replied, raising his glass as well.

The waves whispered against the shore as you clink your glasses together, ending the amazing fun filled day in the most serene and beautiful way imaginable.

On the third day, which is your last day in Malaysia, felt like the perfect opportunity to slow down and enjoy a more relaxed pace with Lando. After having your breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, you decided to explore Kuala Lumpur together and do some shopping, mostly picking out Christmas gifts for family and friends. Your first stop was Cartier, where the staff immediately recognized you and Lando as you entered the boutique.

“Welcome back,” one of them greeted warmly. “Please, follow us to the VIP room.”

The room was elegant and private, with plush seating and pristine glass displays showcasing Cartier’s finest collections. You scanned the displays carefully, selecting gifts that felt personal and meaningful. From time to time, you would turn to Lando for his opinion, holding a piece to show it to him.

“What do you think of this one, love?” you asked, turning a bracelet in your hands.

Lando leaned in to get a closer look, studying it for a brief moment. “It’s nice, but maybe this design suits them better,” he suggested, pointing to another piece that has more classic finish to it.

His input was reassuring, and you found yourself smiling more with every choice you made. So piece by piece, you finalized your selections and decided to have each of it engraved with the names. While the staff began the engraving process, you took the opportunity to explore the display cases further.

Your eyes fell on the iconic Love rings, their sleek designs catching the light. The delicate design, with its understated elegance and signature screw motif had drawn you in immediately. You paused, gazing at them a little longer than you had intended. They were very stunning, and the thought of having matching ones with Lando crept into your mind.

For a moment, you let your mind wander. The thought of having matching Love rings with Lando made your heart flutter. It would be such a sweet symbol of your relationship, a quiet nod to the love you shared. But as quickly as the thought came, doubt crept in. Would he even want to wear something like that? You had only been together for a year, and while your relationship felt deep and serious, you weren’t even sure if he’d see it the same way.

“Miss?” the associate’s voice gently pulled you back to the present. “The items have been engraved and wrapped. Would you like us to send them directly to your hotel?”

You smiled, nodding. “Yes, please. That would be perfect. We still have some plans for the day.”

The associate assured you that everything would be taken care of. You thanked them again and turned to Lando, who was casually leaning against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. What you didn’t realize was that he had caught the way your gaze lingered on the Love rings earlier. But he decided not to say anything, only offering you his hand as the two of you prepared to leave.

“Ready to go?” he asked, voice gentle.

“Yes, let’s go,” you replied, sliding your hand into his.

As you both left the store hand in hand, the shopping bags destined for your hotel, Lando’s mind was already working, his thoughts drifting back to the love rings and making a mental note.

Finally, Dior was your final stop, and as you stepped into the elegantly designed VIP room, the ambiance felt as refined and luxurious as always. The staff greeted you warmly, offering refreshments and giving you a moment to settle in before showing you all of the latest collections.

You browsed through the items thoughtfully, then occasionally turning to Lando for his input, yet again, on potential gifts and personal picks. He followed you closely, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his easy demeanor adding a comfortable balance.

As you admired a pair of beautiful heels, Lando leaned in slightly, tone light but teasing. “You know your luggage is already packed to the brim, right?”

You paused mid-reach, blinking at him as his words sank in. “Wait…really?”

He nodded, trying to suppress a grin. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d have to sit on it just to zip it up.”

With the sudden realization, you glanced back at the shelves, and you turned to the sales associate with a smile. “Do you have any luggage available in stock?”

The associate’s face lit up. “We do, actually! Let me bring it out for you.”

As the associate disappeared into the back, Lando let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Only you would come shopping for gifts and leave with luggage to carry it all.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “Well, if you’re going to go shopping, might as well do it properly.”

The associate soon returned, rolling out a sleek Dior luggage piece in a design you hadn’t seen before that caught your attention immediately. Its understated design and impeccable craftsmanship stood out, and you took a moment to examine it closely.

“This is perfect,” you said decisively, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “I’ll take it. I don’t have one in this design yet, so it’ll be a great addition.”

Lando chuckled softly beside you as you made your way to the counter. When the associate had totaled the purchase, he casually pulled out his black card and handed it over, placing it on the counter.

“Here, I’ve got this,” he said smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small grin.

“No,” you reached into your bag without hesitation, pulling out your own black card and handing it to the associate directly. “I’m paying for this, please. It’s my shopping.”

The associate glanced between the two of you, clearly confused and trying to decide whose card to take. You were sure that the associate would take your card, so you focused briefly on a nearby display of handbags, thinking which designs might fit into your collection. While you were distracted, Lando seized the opportunity.

“Swipe it on mine,” he said quietly, giving the associate a quick, reassuring nod.

By the time you turned your attention back, the transaction was already complete, and the staff were carefully packing the luggage and other items into Dior’s signature paper bags.

“What just happened?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly as Lando smiles cheekily at you.

“Nothing, babe,” he replied, tone far too innocent to be convincing. “Just making sure you’re not overworking your card today.”

You sighed, half-exasperated but mostly amused. “You’re impossible.”

“Just making sure your new luggage is properly christened,” he teased.

Shaking your head with a small smile, you turned back to the associate and asked, “would it be possible to have everything be delivered to our hotel? We’ve got a dinner reservation coming up, and it would be easier if we didn’t have to carry all this.”

“Of course, Miss,” they replied, nodding. “We’ll ensure everything is delivered promptly.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly before turning back to Lando. “Ready to go?”

Lando placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

By the time you stepped out of Dior, the soft glow of dusk had already begun to settle over the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The streets were alive with the hum of evening traffic, but your thoughts were focused on the dinner reservation at Akar Dining.

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, with Lando’s hand resting on your thigh as the car navigated the streets. You arrived just in time, the warm ambiance of the restaurant immediately wrapping around you as you stepped inside, the host greeted you and guided you to your table. Lando, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair, his hand lingering briefly on the back of it as you sat down.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a small smile, adjusting the hem of your dress as you settled in.

Lando took his seat across from you just as a waiter approached your table with the menus. The dimly lit atmosphere, paired with the sophisticated decor had made the evening feel intimate and special. As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a few dishes you knew you would enjoy, while Lando appeared slightly less certain.

“So, what are you thinking of getting?” you asked, glancing up from your menu to find him frowning slightly.

“Honestly?” he set the menu down for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “Most of these seafood dishes aren’t really my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, just pick something else. You don’t have to love everything on the menu.”

Eventually, he decided on the braised aged duck, and you ordered a seafood dish that intrigued you. As you waited for the food, you took a sip of your water, your gaze lingering on Lando. The memory of what happened at Dior earlier was still fresh in your mind, and you decided to address it.

“By the way,” you began, setting your glass down. “Thank you for paying earlier at Dior, but you really didn’t have to, Lan.”

Lando shrugged casually, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I did. You shouldn’t have to pay for something when I’m right here.”

You sighed lightly, tilting your head at him. “Lan, I can pay for my own things. I don’t want to rely on you all the time, especially when it’s my shopping.”

“I know you can,” he replied, tone soft but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to. It’s not about whether you can afford it—it’s about me wanting to take care of you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a playful grin. “And before you argue, I’m not budging on this.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent on paying for everything,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “then at least let me pay for dinner tonight.”

“Not happening, love,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair with an air of finality.

“Lando,” you started, but the waiter returned just then with your food, momentarily halting the conversation.

As you both began to eat, you couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally, trying to come up with a way to outmaneuver him when the bill comes. Lando seemed thoroughly engrossed in his braised aged duck, nodding approvingly after the first few bites.

“This is actually really good,” he remarked, gesturing to his plate with his fork.

“It was worth the try,” you said with a satisfied smile, enjoying your own meal.

When the plates were cleared, the waiter had returned with the bill, and you reached for it instinctively, smiling as you’re about to get a hand on it, but to your dismay, Lando was faster. He snatched it from the waiter’s hand with a smoothness that left you momentarily stunned, his card already out and ready. Without a word, he placed it on the bill and handed it back to the waiter before you could even blink.

“Lando Norris!” you hissed, voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “I told you I was paying for dinner.”

“And I told you that you’re not,” he replied, tone calm and unbothered.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t keep doing this. I have my own money, you know. I don’t need you to pay for everything, my love.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “But I wanted to. A gentleman never let his woman pay. End of story.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently, gaze soft but resolute. “I know that you’re independent, and I love that about you. But letting me take care of you every now and then doesn’t make you any less independent.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “At some point, you have to let me pay too. I don’t want to feel like I’m relying on you for everything.”

“I get that. But tonight isn’t the point,” he said, as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Letting me take care of you once in a while doesn’t mean you’re relying on me. It just means that I love you.”

Your heart softened at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away your objections. “Fine,” you murmured, though a playful edge crept into your tone. “But one day, you’re letting me pay for something. Mark my words.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin. “We’ll see about that.”

After an amazing dinner, you were finally back in your hotel. The moment you stepped inside the room, the exhaustion from the day’s adventures hit you like a wave. You slipped off your sandals with a sigh of relief, placed your bag on the vanity, and immediately collapsed onto the plush bed, letting the softness swallow you whole. Lando was not far behind, shutting the door with a soft click before walking over to where you lay sprawled out. He chuckled as he kicked off his sneakers, tossing them aside without any care.

“You look absolutely done,” he teased, voice laced with affection.

Without another word, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close. You didn’t protest, in fact, you just melted into his embrace—his warmth and familiar scent of his cologne instantly soothing your tired muscles.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you murmured lazily, though you made no effort to move. “We still need to pack for tomorrow. I need to arrange the things we bought today inside the new luggage.”

Lando nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Mhmm…packing can wait.” he said as he kissed your collarbone. “I just want to stay like this for a bit. It’s been such a good trip.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head slightly to rest against his. “It really has. I think this was exactly what we needed, huh? Just us, no distractions.”

“Uh huh. No meetings, no interruptions…” Lando added with a sigh, tightening his hold on you. “I wish we could stay longer. Feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface here.”

You laughed softly. “You’re the one who extended our stay by an extra day. If we keep this up, we might not even make it to the UK in time for Christmas.”

He groaned dramatically, pulling you even closer. “Fine, you win. We’ll leave tomorrow, but I’m telling you, we’re coming back here next year.”

“Alright,” you replied, voice muffle as you buried your face in his chest.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, content to lie tangled in each other’s arms as the city lights outside cast a faint glow into the hotel room.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, breaking the peaceful silence. “We really need to pack, babe. I’m not about to start throwing things into a suitcase at five in the morning.”

He groaned again but rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How about I do the packing, and you stay here looking all pretty?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, swatting his arm lightly. “If you pack, I’ll end up with half my things missing and thrown with wrinkles.”

Lando laughed, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “Alright, fine. Let’s get it over with, but you owe me cuddles afterwards.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you slid off of the bed. “Deal. Now, let’s get moving before you start whining again.”

He grinned, grabbing his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed with enthusiasm. “You know me so very well.”

As you were neatly folding a dress and placing it neatly in your suitcase, your phone rang, cutting through the quiet hum of activity in the hotel room. You glanced at the screen and saw Nick’s caller ID flashing. Your eyes immediately widened, and your stomach sank slightly—you had completely pushed aside the chaos from earlier in Singapore.

“Nicky,” you murmured, picking up the phone and quickly answering. Lando glanced up from his own packing, curious.

The moment the call connected, Nick’s face filled your screen, grinning from ear to ear. Before you could say anything, he shouted out, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Your jaw dropped, and your heart leapt. “WHAT?!” you screamed, startling Lando, who immediately moved closer to check. “Oh my god! Nicky, are you serious?!”

Nick nodded excitedly, his smile growing wider. “Yes! I proposed to Rachel earlier, and she said yes! We’re getting married!”

A loud scream of happiness escaped you, and grabbed both Lando’s hands and jumped up and down, causing Lando to follow your lead, with you chanting ‘Nick and Rachel are getting married’ a couple of times. Both of you jumping like you’re in a cult, chanting to summon something.

“Nicky, this is amazing news! I’m so happy for you and Rachel! Oh my god, I’m going to cry!” you said, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Lando laughed and leaned into the frame, resting a hand on your waist. “Congratulations, mate! That’s incredible news!”

“Thanks, man!” Nick said, grinning even wider. He turned back to you, clearly eager to share more details. “Mom finally came around, and she gave me the emerald ring to propose with. I actually chased Rachel to the airport, it turns out she was about to leave, already inside the plane and I just dropped on one knee and proposed to her. You should’ve seen Rachel’s face when I pulled out the ring, she was so shocked.”

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Nick, that’s so beautiful. I’m so, so happy for you both.”

Nick chuckled, his excitement very evident. “But wait, there’s more. I’m throwing a surprise engagement party for Rachel tomorrow night, and I need you both there. Please say you can come.”

You glanced over at Lando, your eyes silently asking if he was okay with changing plans. Lando, ever the supportive boyfriend that he is, nodded without any hesitation.

“We’re both in,” you said to Nick. “We’ll fly back to Singapore tomorrow.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you! I can’t wait to see you both, and don’t worry, it won’t be a massive party, just a small gathering of close friends and family.”

“We will not miss it,” you assured him. “But just so you know, we’ll have to leave right after the party. We’re expected in the UK before Christmas.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said, still beaming. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow then, and thank you, both of you, for being there for us.”

“Of course,” you replied, voice soft with emotion. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

After ending the call, you turned to Lando, who was smiling at your obvious joy. “Looks like we’re making another detour,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lando replied, pulling you into a quick hug before returning to his packing.

The flight from Malaysia to Singapore passed quickly, only an hour long. You and Lando had decided to leave in the afternoon to allow yourselves some extra time to relax before the engagement party. By the time the private jet touched down at a private tarmac in Changi Airport, the sky had shifted to a warm, dusky hue.

You were already dressed for the event, adjusting the hem of your dress as you prepared to disembark. Your outfit for tonight complimented Lando’s outfit perfectly, a choice you both had coordinated without much effort. Deciding not to take your belongings off of the jet since you would be leaving Singapore immediately after the party. Taking one final glance at the jet’s sleek interior, you then stepped out.

Lando walked beside you, his hand firmly holding yours as he guided you down the steps of the jet. The heels you wore, though elegant, weren’t exactly forgiving, and his grip gave you the balance you needed. Once you reached the car waiting on the tarmac, he moved ahead, opening the door for you.

“Careful, love,” he murmured, holding out a hand to help you inside.

You gave Lando a small smile as you slid into the seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. He followed right after, shutting the car door behind him. The soft hum of the car engine filled up the space as the vehicle pulled away, heading towards Marina Bay Sands. You then leaned into Lando slightly.

“You know,” Lando began with a playful smirk, “I think we’ve spent more time in Singapore lately than in Monaco.”

You laughed softly. “Tell me about it. It looks like we’ll be back here again sooner rather than later for Nick and Rachel’s wedding.”

He tilted his head in mock resignation. “I guess I’d better get used to the humidity then.”

“Oh come on,” you gave him a teasing nudge. “You’ve survived it so far. Besides, you look so good here, very tropical chic.”

Lando chuckled, resting his hand on yours. “Thanks, love. But seriously, it feels like everyone’s getting married or engaged all of a sudden. What’s with the December air.”

You sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it. First Colin and Minty, now Nick and Rachel, also don’t forget about my friend from Parsons! She’s getting married in Moscow next year and has already sent in the invitation.”

“Moscow, huh?” he mused. “Another flight for us?”

You glanced at him with a small smile. “If you want to come with me, that is. I don’t want to pressure you into attending all these weddings, I know that it can be really tiring.”

Lando tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Moscow, a wedding, and a chance to see you again in another dress? Sounds like a total dream, so it’s a yes for me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love every bit of it,” he quipped, grinning.

As the car drove on, your thoughts began to drift. Weddings, engagements, proposals—it seemed like everyone around you was taking those big steps. You didn’t want to admit it, but that idea of marriage had been creeping into your mind more and more lately. It was not something you wanted to bring up, not yet, but still, it is a topic that had been occupying your mind.

You shook off the feeling, focusing instead on the city lights beginning to twinkle outside the car window. “Yeah, and I think that we’re going to need a bigger calendar,” you joked.

Lando laughed, resting a hand on your knee. “As long as you’re on it, I don’t mind.”

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the grand entrance of Marina Bay Sands, with the city lights reflecting off the sleek glass facade. The chauffeur had exited first, circling around to open your door, and before you could step out, Lando was already at your side, extending a hand to help you out of the car.

“I’ll be here at the agreed time to take you back to the airport, ma’am.” the chauffeur said as he tipped his hat.

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile.

Lando intertwined your hands, and you both began walking towards the entrance. The evening air was warm, and the energy surrounding the iconic building was palpable. A few people by the lobby immediately recognized Lando, and their eyes widened when they noticed you by his side.

“Excuse me,” a young woman asked hesitantly, clutching her phone. “Would it be alright if I can get a quick photo with you both?”

Lando exchanged glances with you and nodded warmly. “Of course, just a quick one.”

You stepped aside with him, pausing for a few photos, each person thanking you both profusely afterwards. Once the small crowd dispersed, you and Lando resumed your walk, making your way to the elevators that would take you to the sky deck. The elevator ride was smooth and swift, and when the doors opened, the familiar faces of your family, Nick’s closest friends, and your cousins scattered throughout the beautifully decorated space.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, you spotted your mother first. She stood near one of the seating areas, speaking animatedly with one of your aunts. You guided Lando over, and her expression shifted to surprise the moment she saw you both.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Hi, Mom,” you greeted, smiling warmly before stepping aside so Lando could greet her.

Your mother opened her arms invitingly. “Lando, come here.”

Lando hugged her briefly but warmly, a soft laugh escaping him. “Hello, Auntie. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” your mother replied, taking a step back to look at you both. “I thought you’d already be in the UK by now.” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We were supposed to leave after the day after the wedding,” you explained, “but we decided to make a quick stop in Malaysia for a few days. Then Nicky called last night and asked us to come, so here we are.”

She smiled knowingly. “Always the supportive cousin. But you’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes, the jet is on standby at the airport,” you confirmed. “We’ll head straight there after the party.”

Your mother nodded in satisfaction, and gave Lando a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you enjoy yourselves tonight. It’s a rare sight to see you two so relaxed.”

You and Lando exchanged a small smile before moving on to greet Colin and Araminta, who were just chatting near the champagne table.

“Hey!” Colin greeted, giving you both a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you two again so soon.”

“Neither did we,” you replied with a laugh. “But here we are.”

You turned to Araminta, who hugged you warmly, then stepped back, smiling brightly. “It’s so good to see you again, and Lando, of course! You’re becoming quite the fixture at family events!”

Lando grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Colin smirked. “At this rate, uncle’s going to give him the talk soon, if he hasn’t already. Then we all know whose wedding we’ll be attending soon after Nick and Rachel’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Too late, Dad already gave him the talk, and even Ah Ma had given her blessing.”

Lando grinned, playing along. “Proud to say that I’ve passed all the tests by now.”

Araminta gasped dramatically, nudging Colin. “See? It’s official now. We’ll start saving the date!”

The four of you exchanged pleasantries and some laughs for a few moments before your attention was drawn to a surprising sight. Standing by the bar were none other than Bernard and Kitty, a pair you had not expected to see here at all. You caught Lando’s eye, and he gave you a subtle shrug, clearly just as a surprise.

Shaking it off, you turned your focus back, making your way toward your aunts. Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, who were all chatting in a tight circle. You approached with Lando by your side, greeting each of them in turn with a polite kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

“Ah, you’re here!” your Auntie Alix smiled. “I thought you were in the UK already.”

“Nick called,” you explained with a smile, “so here we are.”

“Well, we’re glad you made it,” your Auntie Jacqueline chimed in, “and you’re glowing tonight.” she added, her gaze flitting between you and Lando.

“Must be the Malaysian sun,” Lando jokes, earning a soft laugh from the group.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave Lando a sharp but playful look. “You’re certainly making yourself comfortable with this family, aren’t you?”

Lando smiled politely. “I’m just trying to keep up,” satisfied with his answer, your Auntie Eleanor waved you off with a chuckle.

Nick and Rachel hadn’t arrived yet, so you and Lando decided to take the opportunity to mingle with other guests. The evening was lively, with laughter and champagne flowing freely.

Several guests had approached you and Lando for photos, and you obliged, posing with ease. Lando kept a hand on your lower back, guiding you smoothly through the crowd as you moved from one group to another.

From across the room, you noticed your cousin Oliver weaving his way through the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he head towards you. As he approached, you and Lando turned to greet him.

“Oliver!” you said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey you two,” he said, giving you both a smile before continuing. “I want to introduce you to Rachel’s best friend. She’s dying to meet you.”

Curious, you exchanged a glance with Lando before agreeing. “Of course! Lead the way.”

Following Oliver, you navigated through the elegantly dressed guests until you stopped in front of a small group of people.

“Here we are,” Oliver said, motioning toward a striking woman with a vibrant smile. “This is Rachel’s best friend, Goh Peik Lin.”

You extended your hand toward her. “Peik Lin, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Peik Lin shook your hand warmly. “And it’s so nice to meet you as well!”

Your gaze traveled briefly over her outfit, a beautifully tailored dress that exuded elegance and sophistication. “I have to say, your outfit is incredible. You have such impeccable taste.”

Her smile widened, excitement evident. “Oh stop, you’re going to make me blush! But thank you, it means a lot coming from someone as stylish as you.”

Oliver then turned to the older couple standing beside Peik Lin. “And these are Peik Lin’s parents, Goh Wye Mun and Goh Nenna.”

You offered a polite smile as you greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Goh.”

Nenna’s eyes sparkled as she took your hand. “Just call us Auntie Nenna and Uncle Wye Mun! And my goodness, you’re even more gorgeous in person! I’ve seen photos of you, and they don’t do you justice! You’re very stunning, my dear!”

You laugh softly, feeling a light warmth rise to your cheeks. “You’re too kind, Auntie Nenna. Thank you so much.”

Then you turned to Wye Mun, whose expression shifted slightly as recognition dawned on him. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re one of Harrison Sr. and Elizabeth Young’s children, aren’t you? Their only daughter,” he said, tone a mixture of surprise and admiration.

You nodded, smiling. “That’s right. I’ve heard of your family before as well. If my memory serves me right, you’re the owner of Goh Developments, correct? One of Singapore’s most successful real estate companies?”

Wye Mun chuckled, clearly pleased. “Yes, that’s about right. I’m flattered you know about us.”

“Of course!” you said. “Your company’s work is extraordinary. Some of your developments are architectural masterpieces.”

The brief exchange shifted naturally into a short discussion about real estate, with Wye Mun enthusiastically sharing tidbits about recent projects. Peik Lin listened intently, Oliver and Lando conversing with each other, while Nenna just watched the whole conversation with a smile.

You then gestured towards Lando afterwards, who had been standing quietly beside you. “Allow me to introduce to you my boyfriend, Lando.”

Lando extended his hand towards Wye Mun, who shook it firmly. Wye Mun’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, Lando Norris! I watched you win the Singapore GP last September. Quite an incredible race, I must say. You’ve got some serious talent.”

“Thank you so much,” Lando said with a polite smile. “It was an unforgettable race for sure.”

“And I didn’t know that you were dating the darling of the Singaporean social elite!” Wye Mun added with a playful tone, eyes twinkling.

“Oh Wye Mun, look at them!” Nenna interjected, her gaze moving between you and Lando. “They look so good together, a very beautiful couple. Perfect match!”

Wye Mun nodded in agreement, tone light. “Quite the power couple, I’d say.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their comment, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you with a soft expression. “Thank you,” you replied simply.

The conversation continued easily, with the group exchanging stories and laughs. The atmosphere was warm, and you felt genuinely pleased to meet Rachel’s best friend and their family.

As the buzz of conversation faded into hushed whispers, Araminta stepped forward with a smile and announced, “Nick and Rachel are on their way up now! Everyone, take your positions.”

You and Lando stood slightly off to the side, his hand on your waist, caressing it softly and tracing shapes. The elegant lighting of the sky deck reflected off the cityscape, casting a soft glow over the gathered guests.

Lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, tone teasing, “it was so hot watching you talk business with Wye Mun earlier. You looked so serious and confident.”

You glanced at him, barely suppressing a smile, and gave his chest a soft slap. “Stop being cheeky right now, Norris,” you muttered, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing any attention.

But it looks like Lando was not done yet. He grinned at you mischievously, his voice dipping lower. “I mean it, baby. The way you talked about developments and projects? Very impressive, very attractive.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “Lando,” you whispered warningly, “behave. This is not the time.”

He bit back a chuckle, amusement evident. “Fine, fine. But you should know, I can’t help it when you’re like that.”

You shushed him quietly, your finger briefly brushing his lips. “Quiet now,” you insisted softly, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

As you returned your focus to the party, your thoughts flicked back to your earlier conversation with Wye Mun. Real estate development has always intrigued you—the intricacies, potential, and stories behind every project. It was not just a polite conversation, it was a chance to learn and build connections.

“Besides,” you murmured to Lando, keeping your tone casual, “it’s always good to broaden your network. Even if I already have so many, there’s no harm in widening the circle.”

Lando nodded, his expression now a mix of curiosity and pride. “Well, you’ve got a point,” he said softly.

You let your eyes wander across the crowd, noting a few familiar faces mingling among the guests. “This place is full of businesspeople—major players in the industry, tonight,” you whispered to him. “I can recognize a few who could even be potential sponsors for McLaren.” Lando raised a brow at you, intrigued.

You turned to him, giving him a playful wink. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll help you land a deal or two.”

Lando smirked, leaning in closer to you again. “Now that,” he said, tone low and teasing, “is a kind of teamwork I can get behind.”

The sky deck fell in a hush as everyone stood in their positions, waiting for Nick and Rachel’s arrival. The atmosphere was buzzing, a mix of excitement and happiness among the crowd. The distant hum of the elevator announced their approach, and then, with a soft chime, doors slid open.

Nick stepped out first, his hands gently covering Rachel’s eyes as he carefully guided her forward into the middle of the crowd. Rachel, her posture both curious and expectant, laughed lightly, clearly amused by the surprise. The whole crowd held its collective breath, watching as Nick finally removed his hands from Rachel’s eyes.

The second her eyes opened, the silence of the crowd was replaced with an eruption of cheers and applause. Screams of happiness echoed across the sky deck, led enthusiastically by Colin and Araminta. Rachel’s expression had transformed into one of pure, radiant happiness as she took sight of everyone gathered for her. Overwhelmed with emotion, she raised her hand, showing off the stunning emerald ring that sparkled under the lights, then pointing to it with a grin.

People surged forward, surrounding Nick and Rachel with hugs and congratulations. You and Lando joined in with the crowd, your laughter blending with everyone else’s as you approached the newly engaged couple.

“Congratulations!” you said, beaming as you hugged Rachel tightly. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Nick grinned, pulling you into a quick hug as well. “Thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Lando shook Nick’s hand before giving Rachel a warm hug. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Nick, ever the joker, glanced between you and Lando, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know,” he began, tone playful, “I have a strong feeling you two might be the next one.”

Rachel, catching on, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely! We’ll have to start planning your engagement party real soon.”

You and Lando exchanged amused looks, chuckling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you replied, though your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As much as you adored Nick and Rachel, you did not need them adding more fuel to the fire—you were already simmering with wedding fever.

After the flood of congratulations, Nick took Rachel’s hand and gently guided her attention towards the infinity pool, where a group of synchronized swimmers began an elegant performance, their movements perfectly timed to the music. Rachel gasped softly, her eyes lighting up with wonder as she watched.

Then, from the corner of our eye, you noticed Rachel spotting your Auntie Eleanor standing a little way off. For a brief moment, the noise and excitement seemed to face as the two women exchanged a look, one of understanding and newfound respect. The warmth in Rachel’s smile and the subtle nod from your Auntie Eleanor spoke volumes. It filled your heart with joy to see that your aunt had finally come around, embracing Rachel in the way she deserved.

Nick then pulled Rachel into a tender kiss, earning a round of applause and cheers again from the crowd. Lando stepped behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, holding you close. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel his warmth radiating through you.

The sound of fireworks exploding above pulled everyone’s attention upward. Bright colors lit up the sky, reflecting off the glass and water, painting the moment in vibrant hues. The cheers grew louder, people pointing and marveling at the display. You stayed like that, wrapped in Lando’s arms, watching the sky.

With fireworks still illuminating the sky and Lando’s arms wrapped securely around you, a quiet realization settled in your heart. It was not something sudden, it was something that had been building over time, piece by piece, moment by moment. The depth of love that you feel for Lando was staggering, overwhelming even, and yet it felt so natural.

You had dated before, countless boys who had seemed charming or interesting at the time, but none of them had ever come close to Lando. They never understood you the way Lando did. With him, there was no guessing, pretending, or effort to mold yourself into someone else’s idea of what love should look like. Lando saw you, truly saw you, in a way that no one else ever had. To be seen was to be loved.

This was what set Lando apart. With him, you never had to explain your silences, quirks, or the way your mind wandered to far-off places. He did not just tolerate those things, in fact, he cherished them. He loved them. With Lando, you felt understood in a way that words could never fully capture.

You thought back to the other relationships before Lando, the boys who had come before. They had their moments, but they always felt…incomplete. There had been a disconnect, a lingering sense that you were only partly there, only partly understood. They never have you the feeling that Lando did—feeling of being wholly, entirely loved. Lando was the man that you had been praying for, and for once, God had led Lando to you.

Sure, the way he loved you was not perfect, but it was honest. It was raw and real, and it made you feel more like yourself than you ever thought possible. Lando had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like his entire focus was only on you and no one else. That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? You had never felt this way with anyone else, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Lando was not just someone you loved—he was the person you wanted to spend your forever with.

The thought settled deeply in your chest, filling every corner of your heart with an indescribable warmth. It was not just that you loved him—it was that he was home.

“I love you,” you looked up at him, smiling.

Lando looked at you, smiling. He then whispered, “I love you too, so fucking much.”

taglist : @sheblogs

417 notes · View notes

redroses07 · 1 year ago

Text

Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

WC:1.7k

Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)

Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡

After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.

The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.

It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.

You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.

You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.

"Stiles, is everything okay?"

"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.

You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.

Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.

You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.

"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.

It was on this night that all that would begin to change.

When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.

You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.

You laid down next to him, your body facing his.

"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.

"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"

"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.

You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.

"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.

"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."

Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.

"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.

You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.

"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.

"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.

At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.

"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.

You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.

"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.

He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.

As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"

"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.

Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.

"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.

"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.

By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.

You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.

Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.

From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.

You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.

You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.

Your friends picked up on it too.

"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'

"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.

You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.

Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.

It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.

"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.

"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.

Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.

"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.

You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.

Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.

You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.

"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.

"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."

You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.

"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.

"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.

Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.

You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.

You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.

You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.

After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.

Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.

"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

"Nope."

You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.

875 notes · View notes

marc-spectorr · 18 days ago

Text

𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 - 𝑰.

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

summary: the first time joel almost said “i love you,” the truth had just dawned on him.

warnings: 4.4k wc. fluff + but more so angst. soft & yearning but still very much afraid of his feelings!joel. mentions of anxiety, past canon events. s2 doesn’t exist here.

a/n: hiya here’s my first joel fic/mini series! it’s written in a 5+1 plot format which i decided to split into separate parts. not sure when the next part will be written as i'm mentally preparing myself for the reed richards brain-rot that will probably happen next week lmao.

feedback is much appreciated (but pls be gentle tho bc i haven’t written anything in over a year). hope you enjoy!

Autumn has become Joel's favorite time of the year.

Sitting on his front porch in the early morning hours, he has come to enjoy the slow and quiet start of it all: the first beams of sunlight breaking through the cloudy horizon, the light crisp in the air carried by the breeze. It dances through each tree, rustling the last of its dry leaves off the branches.

He’s never noticed just how vibrant their colors are—how the crimson hues are much deeper, the amber tones a touch warmer than he last recalled.

Joel’s not entirely used to it yet. The freedom to stop and soak in the beauty standing there in front of him. Strange to think that two years ago, life had been different. Gone are the days of working long, grueling hours, earning ration cards that barely afforded him much. Back when he snuck in and out of the QZ, smuggling just to keep his lights on and pass the time. Then there had come the task of taking Ellie to the Fireflies, and the pain and loss that had risen from that.

In between all those and settling down in Jackson for good, there hasn't been a whole lot of time to slow down, breathe, and live. There was no room to do so when survival was the sole thing at the forefront of his mind.

He thought it would never end. Thought that he would never get the chance to rest, to have a life resembling a version of the past. He was proven wrong when he set foot in this town. It took a while to adjust—and he still is— but he has never felt safer. Never needed to be on a constant high alert, primed to fight off infected or worse.

Here in Jackson, there's running hot water in the shower, fresh meals every day, and comfortable beds—actual ones with clean mattresses and pillows and blankets. It feels so normal, as if this town had been left untouched by the horrors all these years. Kids went to school, neighborhoods hosted potlucks and parties. There are even movie nights held every week at the makeshift theater.

While threats continue to exist beyond the gates, they no longer plague everyone's mind at every minute of every hour. Fear doesn’t hold them back anymore. The community thrives; people are happy, and life moves freely along with the changing seasons.

And Joel... Joel has time again. So much time, and a family— old, new, and found. He's got a nice house with a white picket fence. He has a job in town and has even fallen back into some of his past hobbies.

He has a purpose, has much more to live for now.

If only Sarah could see how far he’s come along.

Joel reckons she would be proud of him. Remembering her doesn't torment him as much as it once did. What used to be a searing pain slicing through his heart has now mellowed into an ache that throbs from time to time. He supposed the journey with Ellie had begun healing the decades-old wound of loss. No longer does it bleed him dry.

Sarah would have loved it here. He imagines her getting along so well with Ellie that the two would undoubtedly conspire against him, driving him crazy, just as any teenage girl would with her father. She would have doted over her baby cousin Benjamin, admired her new aunt Maria, and teased her uncle Tommy for finally settling down.

And he thinks— no, he knows that Sarah would have adored you.

You, his closest friend and patrol partner. The most kind-hearted and patient person there is in all of Jackson, who’s always there to lend a hand or be a shoulder to cry on. Who could brighten up an entire room just by stepping inside of it.

You’re a constant in Joel’s life these days. What started out as a simple camaraderie stemming from daily patrols together has turned into something much more. You started coming over for dinners at least once a week, volunteered to tutor Ellie in your spare time, and even helped him look after Benji when Tommy and Maria needed a night off.

Then there are the little things Joel began to notice: how his eyes linger on you a beat longer than he realizes, the way his heart picks up a fraction when he hears the sound of your voice. More than once, he has caught himself smiling when you entered his thoughts, just like he was doing right at this moment.

He can't seem to shake you off. Not that he wants to.

It's complicated. He is complicated.

For years, Joel kept his distance from others. Locked away his emotions behind thick, impenetrable walls. He didn't let anyone get close to him; he couldn't.

When Sarah died, he’d come to believe that attachment was a liability. That it led to weakness, an open invitation for hurt. It’s why things with Tess never went any further than what she had wished, much to his regret.

But after Ellie had chipped away at those defenses— melted down Joel's cold, hardened exterior— warming up to you came surprisingly natural for him.

Joel admires you, or at least that's what he calls this feeling. He's at a loss trying to explain it, to make sense of it. It is admiration, isn't it?

He admires how you treat Ellie, how you genuinely care for her along with Tommy and his family, and every single person in town. You’re dedicated, loyal. Someone people can always count on. Someone who remembers the small things they say and makes them feel seen.

He admires the way you carry yourself outside of the safety of Jackson. Confident and headstrong, as if what's out there should be wary of you instead. You work well with Joel on patrols, already knowing how to handle yourself and keep up with his pace from the start. You're sharp and fierce, and one hell of a crack shot. Perhaps even better than he is, though he won't admit that out loud yet.

Most of all, Joel admires your kindness towards him, as if it were something rare, almost sacred. You soften out all the rough edges of him, bringing out a side of him that he thought had died the night of the outbreak. Even Tommy remarked at one point how he's changed from the man he once was, thanks to you. Joel had only hummed in response to that, but deep down, he knew that much was true.

Yes, it's merely admiration. A quiet reverence, an appreciation. Fondness. The kind of affection that Joel would have for any other friend. What else could it be?

You continue to linger in Joel’s head as the skies shift from streaks of pale pink to a wave of soft blue.

The rest of the town stirs awake, leaving their homes to go on about their day. Joel's unsure of what to do for his. He's not scheduled for patrol this weekend, and he hadn't planned on anything beforehand to occupy his time. He figures you'll drop by in the next couple of hours, just as you usually do on your days off, as if it's routine.

Joel never minds your company. In fact, he's looking forward to it more than he lets on.

Then, as if his endless thoughts alone had summoned you, there you are, coming into view. Real and radiant as you walk down the pathway cutting through his front yard.

Joel doesn't know what to make of the gentle flutter stirring in his chest as he watches you. There’s a gravity to your presence, a magnetic pull that compels him to stand from his seat and meet you halfway on the porch steps.

“Morning, Joel,” you chirp, looping an arm around his shoulders to reel him in for a hug. It lasts for a few short seconds, your sweet honey scent clinging to Joel’s senses even after you pull away. The smile that blooms across your lips is wide and bright, he swears it could eclipse the sun.

"Mornin' to you, too," he greets, unable to help the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "What brings you 'round here? Thought you'd sleepin' in. It's our day off, remember?"

"Yeah, well, like you, I'm allergic to waking up past the crack of dawn. Habits are hard to break, I guess," you answer with a small shrug. "Plus, I got a surprise for you. It couldn't wait any longer."

Joel tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects the palm-sized burlap sack you lift up for him to see.

You incline your head towards the bag, a silent cue for him to take it, which he does. His fingers gently graze against yours, and he feels something fleeting yet undeniable. A brief spark that travels up the entire length of his arm upon contact. He exhales a hushed breath as his hand works steadily to pull back the drawstring, revealing its contents.

Immediately, Joel catches the familiar, rich, nutty aroma. He doesn't need to look further inside. His eyes meet yours, disbelief settling over his features as he processes what you have just given to him.

"It'll brew about ten cups, give or take. Maybe fifteen if you ration it wisely. But it's definitely more than you currently have."

"W-Where'd you find these?" He asks, completely struck with awe at you managing to get hold of coffee beans, a rare luxury in this world these days.

It's been exactly six months and ten days since Joel had the pleasure of indulging in a cup. Jackson's usual coffee supplier had come up empty-handed these last trade visits, giving no indication when it would be available again, and that was if it ever would be.

You could say he's gone nearly stir crazy ever since.

"I worked my magic around," you reply. Joel feels your eyes sweep over his face, as if carefully studying every feature. He doesn't miss the subtle curl of your lips either. "I found someone who did me a big solid and got me in contact with a guy living down south. Took forever to get here though— this was supposed to be your present last Christmas."

A soft chuckle bubbles out of Joel. “Got tired of me complainin’, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” you agree teasingly. “Don’t think there was ever a day when you didn’t mention how desperate you were for a cup. You were starting to turn into a big grump again without it.”

“Wha— really?”

You let out a snort, answering with a lighthearted tone. “Yes, really— you snapped at the tea I offered you one time, called it a cup of boiling disappointment.”

“Not gonna take those words back. Tea just doesn’t hit the spot like coffee does,” Joel says with a playful glint in his eye. “But thank you, darlin’. You don’t gotta go through all that trouble for me.”

"I don't mind. From the looks of it, it was very much worth it," you murmur, your hand unexpectedly moving to rest on Joel's arm, giving him a light squeeze.

It could have been nothing other than a friendly gesture, though it's the kind of touch that makes him wonder if there's more behind it when you don't let go right away.

There's a quiet beat that stretches on for many more. It's only then that Joel notices how close the two of you stand before each other, neither seeming to dare step away. The air between you feels different now, charged with something else unspoken.

Almost on its own accord, Joel’s hand reaches for you, pausing just shy above your cheek in uncertainty, as if he’s suddenly become aware of what he’s doing. He swallows thickly, and right before he could draw his hand back, your fingers are curling around his wrist.

Not to push him away, no. Slowly, you lead his touch to your face like he had intended to— a silent invitation, a permission, a plea.

Your skin is soft under the palm of his hand. Joel swears he could feel the warmth of you spread throughout him. It sinks past his bones and seeps deeper inside until finding a tender corner of his heart. His thumb brushes a slow, delicate line along your cheek, and your breath hitches, your eyes closing briefly as if to savor this as much as he is.

With a whisper of your name, Joel gently coaxes your eyes open again, having missed them in the fleeting seconds he couldn’t see them. And when they finally reconnect with his, he instantly falls into a daze, caught in an enchantment that lives within you.

Here, time doesn't pass, the wind all around stills, the earth doesn’t move an inch.

Here, all the pieces came together, clicking into place.

Joel can finally see this for what it is.

In a moment of sudden clarity, the words he’s been searching for are there, flashing in his head. Three of them. One with four letters bearing the most weight.

Of course, he hadn't recognized it at first, having only experienced it once a lifetime ago: Sarah's mother. He'd forgotten what it was like, resigned to the fact that it'd never find him again, had he wished for it to in the first place.

But perhaps deep down, there's a part of Joel that did. Because here it was, staring back at him from the depths of your eyes.

It has found him. Rather, you did.

"Joel, you okay? You look like you've seen a clicker."

Your voice is lost to Joel. Drowned in the thunderous pounding of his heartbeat. His mind moves slower than the rest of him. He licks his lips and parts them unconsciously, not knowing of what's about to fall.

And when they do, they start to spill without so much of an effort to hold them back:

“I l—”

“—Joel? Joooel? Where the hell are you man? I can’t find my red hoodie anywhere.”

Like hot, burning lightning, it’s then that everything strikes Joel all at once. The revelation, the near-confession, Ellie's abrupt appearance.

Her voice pierces the moment, breaking the spell Joel was bound to. He snaps back into reality, his throat working, mouth dry. He doesn’t mean to, but he takes a shaky step back, the wooden floorboard of his porch creaking as he does.

Gaze darting away from yours, Joel drags his hand over his face. There's a storm inside his head. A hurricane of panic and doubt threatens to consume him, if it hasn't done so already.

It was love. It has always been love all this time. Woven into every glance, every word, every moment shared together underneath the sun and the stars.

You aren’t just a friend to him. He had crossed that line without even realizing it.

Fuck.

And Joel hadn’t braced for the truth crashing over him like a tidal wave, pulling him beneath the surface. Maybe he has been too afraid to name it, too cowardly to accept it. He doesn't know how to process it, what to do next. He has no idea how you would—

Oh no.

You.

Joel’s eyes frantically flit over to you, desperate to catch the expression on your face. Worry swells in the pit of his stomach. Could you tell what he was about to lay bare? No, he hopes you didn’t. He hopes that he hasn’t messed up what was precious between you and him.

But you’re not looking at him anymore. Your attention veers past him, pointed at someone else.

“Ellie, hi!”

There's that usual lightness to your tone when you speak. You seem to be unaffected, oblivious to Joel's inner turmoil. He releases a breath, relief flooding him. He glances over his shoulder, and standing behind him is Ellie, her head peeking out from the front door. She steps outside, innocently unaware of what she had walked in on.

He goes to clear his throat.

“Sorry, kiddo. What were you—”

Joel doesn't get to finish, interrupted for the second time. As if she forgot about his presence there, Ellie skips past him and launches herself into your arms. She almost knocks you down the porch steps, his hand immediately shooting forward to steady you before that could happen.

Eventually, Ellie frees you from her tight hug. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, unable to contain her excitement. “Guess what? I crushed that dumb exam yesterday. I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Ellie, language,” Joel says. He gets ignored, again.

But not by you, though. Your gaze flicks to his, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips. It further dims the anxiety that had seized him moments ago.

You then look back at Ellie. “Of course I do. You’re a smart girl, Ellie. Told you a little studying actually helps.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still super boring though,” she mutters, rolling her eyes at how right you are. “Anyway, stables are opening up soon, and you owe me a riding lesson. Thought I’d check to see if you were already up— guess you saved me the trip.”

You let out a gentle snicker. “I did promise you that, didn't I?”

“Yup, you did,” Ellie nods. She turns to Joel, who’s no longer an invisible being to her. She spots the burlap still in his grasp and points to it. “What’s that?”

“Coffee,” he informs simply, and Joel sees the way you bite back a laugh when Ellie instantly grimaces. He then quips, “That’s very offensive.”

“Good, ‘cause it smells and tastes disgusting, bleh!”

“Try tea next time,” you suggest, chuckling.

Ellie’s face doesn’t change. “Even worse. In what world is hot leaf water appealing?”

“Gotta agree with you on that, kiddo,” Joel smirks, earning him a gentle jab in the ribs from you.

“Insult my tea one more time and you’ll never get a taste of coffee again,” you say like a warning, though there’s no real bite to it.

Still, Joel throws his hands up in front of him. A white flag.

“Eugh, enough already. There’s no competition. Both of your drinks are gross,” Ellie mumbles, shaking her head. She moves on. “Sooo, those horse riding lessons this morning. Yes or definitely a yes?”

You look at Joel's way, wordlessly checking with him if it's okay. He doesn't spare a second thinking about it, giving you a slight tip of his head in approval. It's impossible to deny you and Ellie of anything.

"Alright, your first lesson starts today," you tell Ellie. "Do me a favor and put a kettle on so Joel can make his coffee. Just need to talk to him before we can go."

Ellie performs a little salute. “You got it. Joel, my jacket?”

"Upstairs in my room," he reveals, resting his hands on his hips. "Saw a tear in it last night, so I patched it up for you. Go on, check it out after."

Ellie beams at him. She’s quick to give Joel a squeeze around his middle, and he relishes it, knowing these sweet displays of affection from her don't happen often, nor do they last very long.

“Fuck yeah! Be right back!” And then she’s off, dashing back inside the house, not giving him a chance to chide her over her cursing.

As soon as you and Joel are alone, silence settles between the two of you. He pushes down the creeping dread, deferring the talk you mentioned wanting to have with him by keeping the conversation on Ellie.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Joel murmurs, his fingers toying with the frayed strings of the coffee bag he still holds. “Shoulda given you an out back there. If you got your hands full today, I could talk her out of it. Set up a better time for those lessons.”

You give him a faint shake of your head. “It’s okay, now is a good time. She deserves it. School’s been tough on her, but I can see how much she tries.”

“She’s got the best tutor. Pretty sure she prefers you more than her actual teachers.”

“Maybe ‘cause I bribe her with baked goods and sweets every time she does her homework.”

"Don't see anythin' wrong with that. If it works, it works," Joel chuckles, the sound of it slightly hollow, however. His thoughts begin to drift to a distant place, despite his best efforts to resist.

A pause. You tilt your head at him, a crease forming between your brows. “Joel, is everything alr—”

The tight knot in his chest swells at what you're going to ask, but he quickly forces it aside and swallows hard. He cuts you off before you can finish the question.

“—Do you, uh, want a cup?”

Seconds tick by without a single word exchanged. Your gaze softens as it lingers on Joel's, like you're reading a line of unseen words written across his face. He couldn't quite catch the flicker of thought passing through your mind; he's unsure he wants to.

You draw in a sharp breath to speak, but just as before, he deflects.

“I-I can make you a cup. You got me this, so you should have a taste—”

“Joel, I think we should—”

“Why don’t you come inside and—”

“—Look, something’s obviously wrong. Why won’t you—”

"No. Don't," Joel breathes out, his gaze lowering in both shame and fear. The fear of looking into your eyes and witnessing the damage he's caused. He doesn't want to see not even a trace of anger or disappointment in you; he knows he won't be able to take it. That it would be like a jagged blade thrusted into his fragile heart.

God, why is he so damn scared? Instead of facing the truth, he chooses to run and hide, leaving you in the dark when he should be standing right there, right next to you.

It’s the risks. The consequences.

The aftermath of those words could ultimately bring.

Everything would change, Joel knows it will. And he can't help but envision the worst that could happen. That his luck would eventually run out.

He’ll fall short. He’s not as strong as you think he is. It’s obvious right now when he’s too scared of being honest with you. Too scared of making this real.

Even with time, Joel would stay scarred. Too broken to hold something so tender in his hands. Hands that have committed sins in the past, never to be thoroughly washed off, no matter how much good he's done as of late.

You’ll realize you deserve better, you’ll find better, and he won't blame you.

“Joel, look at me. Please.”

Your voice, quiet and small, slips through the cracks in his mind, pulling him away from the heavy thoughts he burdens himself with. He doesn’t move, just stands there with an arm leaning against a column, as if trying to keep himself upright.

A soft hand rests under his chin, and he releases a shaky sigh when you tip it up slightly to find his eyes. Joel holds his breath, bracing himself for the eventual sting when you catch them.

But when you do, no hurt comes. There’s no hardness beneath your gaze. Just a calmness, a gentle understanding.

Your eyes don’t press Joel for an explanation, simply offering a refuge from his restless mind. You’ve spent enough time with him to know when he would get lost in a quiet spiral. And like all those other times, you reach a hand out for him to take, to hold.

He does, and all the noise in his head dulls into the faintest hum.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to. I get it, it’s okay,” you reassure Joel softly, the squeeze on his hand anchoring him to the present.

A minute comes and goes. Then a low rasp: “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you say, offering him a smile that manages to take a slight heaviness off his chest. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

Joel could only nod in response. Part of him is grateful to be able to move on from this. To pretend, to forget. But he can’t escape the ache that lingers like a ghost haunting his heart.

“Ellie will be back in a sec. How ‘bout coming with us to the stables? Make me that cup of coffee along with yours, and we can take them to go.”

Joel shrugs his shoulders, which carry the weight of the unknown. He's not sure if he can trust himself around you at the moment. Doesn't want to make yet another wrong move with you. "You sure? I-I got… stuff to do. Gotta check the bathroom sink, faucet's been kinda leakin' and—"

"No, don't," you whisper, echoing his words earlier, though yours is much gentler. "You don't have to hide yourself away. We're friends, aren't we?"

Friends.

Yes.

That you two are, Joel is reminded of. And friends don't fall for each other, do they?

Pretend and forget. Joel's done that before to survive. Pushed down all his grief and guilt to keep himself going. He would bury his love for you just as easily, anything to avoid the raw intensity that he doesn't know what to do with, which terrifies him.

“Friends,” Joel repeats in a murmur. He pulls his gaze away from yours once more, but settles it this time on the warm, steady hands that hold his. “Don’t have too much of those.”

You hum quietly, thumb tracing over his knuckles. “Well, at least you’ve got me.”

Joel smiles softly at that. Stillness descends once more, but no longer does it thrum with thick tension. It doesn't swallow him up whole, unlike before. No, not when you’re there tethering him to the ground beneath his feet.

He has you, and perhaps that’s just enough. What you already have is good. It's safe and easy. He's content with it. Truly. He doesn’t need to chase after something more, something that’s unpredictable.

Because that’s what love is to Joel—it’s a gamble. It demands pieces of him, only to offer uncertainty in return.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," he sighs in agreement. “Head on inside, let’s go make you that coffee.”

Before Joel steps towards the door, he pauses. Looking down on your intertwined hands, he lets his linger in the gentle clasp of yours for a few more, slow seconds. Then, with a final fleeting squeeze, his fingers loosen reluctantly, and he lets you go.

—

➥ MASTERLIST

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #my fics

215 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 10 months ago

Text

Sunshine [5] - Dusk

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Some evenings come with threats.

Word Count: 4242

CW: Violence, explicit language, blood, threats

Series Masterlist

“I have no idea why you don’t like him.”

“Well, that makes two of us because I have no idea why you like him.”

You rolled your eyes at Jamie as you grabbed the coffee pot, then filled his cup while he pointed at you with his fork. The diner wasn’t very busy yet; you had the time to focus your full attention on him after taking a couple of orders to the tables, so you leaned on the counter, then stole a fry off his plate.

“Logan is nice.”

“Oh Logan is nice?” he repeated with a scoff. “He’s a giant ball of macho bullshit with no brains, that’s what he is.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh come on Jamie!”

“I’m serious,” he said as you crossed your arms to shoot him a lighthearted glare.

“You know, I wasn’t like this when you introduced Nik to me.”

“Nik is my soulmate,” he said without hesitation. “I doubt the brute caveman is your soulmate.”

“He's not a caveman.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“He just…he doesn’t look very friendly,” you said in a rush to defend him. “I’m aware of it but he’s been to wars and stuff, so it’s kinda expected—”

“Which is another red flag, sunshine,” Jamie insisted. “When was he born, you said?”

“1832.”

“You have a crush on Dracula: Lumberjack Edition?”

“He doesn’t give off vampire vibes!”

“No, he gives off werewolf vibes,” he said. “And just in case a certain popular franchise has escaped your notice, they’re both equally bad.”

You scrunched your nose up at him, still leaning to the counter while he sipped his coffee.

“What happened to the guy Nik set you up with?”

“Oh that date was a disaster,” you said with a shrug. “He talked about himself the whole time. I barely got two words in.”

“I hate when they do that,” he grumbled, making you smile.

“I swear to you Logan is not a bad guy,” you said. “He’s the furthest thing from that—which by the way, we might be just arguing over nothing. I honestly doubt he sees me that way.”

He shot you a look of disbelief.

“Sunshine.”

“No I really don’t think—”

“A lot of people you cross paths with see you that way.”

“You and Julie both say that but that’s because you’re my best friends.”

“No, that’s because we see how people look at you,” he said. “Unlike you.”

“Yeah but Logan—”

“Logan will make a move on you one of these days, and I think you should turn him down when he does.”

You wiggled your brows. “It’d be a bit difficult to turn him down while I’m climbing him like a tree.”

“Fuck him once and leave him.”

“I already decided what our future cabin in the woods will be like.”

He let out a groan, burying his face into his hands, making you giggle.

“If Logan and I start dating and that’s a huge if, considering I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me that way,” you said. “We’ll go on a double date with you and Nik, and you will see he’s actually the nicest guy in the entire world.”

“I hope he’s terrible in bed so that you will snap out of this,” he motioned at you as his phone vibrated, making him check it before he took a huge sip of his coffee, then stood up.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow your car by the way,” he said. “It’s just that, Nik’s grandma needs a ride to the airport and…”

“It’s totally fine,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Don’t even mention it.”

“I’ll bring it tonight to your place.”

“Like I said, it’s totally fine,” you said. “Tell Nik’s grandma I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek, then walked out of the diner. You grabbed his plate and mug, but as soon as you entered the kitchen, the boss’ office door opened and he peeked his head out.

“Hey,” he said. “Bad news, Stacey can’t make it, she has the flu. Do you think you could close tonight?”

Shit.

Of course you had to close when you didn’t have a car.

You pressed your lips together, then forced yourself to smile before nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “I can close tonight, no problem.”

Today was not going as planned, at all.

Creepy customers weren’t exactly new to you. You were pretty sure that everyone in service industry had to deal with them at one point or another, God knew you did. But usually, once you turned them down, they finished their meals and left without leaving you a tip.

They didn’t just sit there at the booth, staring at you for almost an hour.

Paul was by the grill as you walked into the kitchen and heaved a sigh, pressing your palms into your eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

It was fine. If he stayed there towards the closing time, you were just going to ask Paul to handle him, he was pretty good at that. He would deal with him, and afterwards you would just call a cab and go home and forget about today.

“You okay?” Paul asked and you dropped your hands, then nodded, clearing your throat.

“Um—yeah. Just tired I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Uh huh,” you said. “Slow day but I went to bed late, so…”

He grinned. “Your new boyfriend is keeping you up late?”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s nothing like that.”

“No?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t even know if he likes me that way to be honest.”

“What, he just came to drive you home the other day out of the goodness in his heart?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. He’s nice.”

“Honey, I’m terribly sorry to shatter your trust in the goodness of us men, but we usually don’t do that just for any girl.”

“Yeah but Logan is nice,” you insisted. “Not to mention, he’s out of my league.”

“Did you break all the mirrors in your place or something?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Paul.”

“Take it from a guy, Logan definitely wants to…” he wiggled his brows and you grabbed the table cloth, then tossed it at him for him to catch it in the air.

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“So your crush isn’t keeping you up, then what is?”

“Have you met me?” you asked him. “I run on stress.”

“You know what’s good for stress, right?” he asked with a smirk but as soon as he stole a look out of the small kitchen window into the diner, then pulled his brows together. “Did I Beetlejuice this motherfucker or something?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head to follow his line of sight, then gasped when you saw Logan walking to the counter to sit on a stool.

At first you were surprised at the relief that hit you out of nowhere so fast that it made your head spin, because normally whenever you were around Logan, your heart would be making flips, adrenaline rushing through you. It took you a moment to understand what it was, and once you did, you let out a breath.

It was safety.

Somehow, something in your body knew Logan being there meant you were completely safe.

You let out a breath and pushed open the door to step outside, then approached the counter.

“Hey,” you said, still slightly dizzy and Logan’s hazel eyes searched your face, his frown deepening.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“I could hear your heartbeat from a mile away,” he said. “What’s going on?”

You blinked a couple of times. “You recognize my heartbeat?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it was completely normal. “And I smelled your fear. So what’s going on?”

“You what?” you asked. “I smell like fear?”

“Not normally, but you do right now,” he said impatiently. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to focus as you stole a look at the booth the creep was still sitting in, Logan turning his head to follow your glances.

“He, um…” you said, lowering your voice. “He wanted to know when I get off work, and—and I said no and he’s been sitting there for an hour, just staring.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose as if he was surprised by the guy’s audacity.

“And I close the diner tonight,” you whispered. “And I gave the car to Jamie because his boyfriend’s grandma has been staying with them, and she’s really nice except for when she made that one comment about me giving it up too—” you stopped yourself. “Sorry. Um, I don’t—”

“How about I drive you home tonight?” he cut you off, making you pull your brows together.

“You’d do that?”

The look he gave you was almost reprimanding as if he was offended by you asking a question when the answer was clear as day and you let out a relieved breath.

“Logan I…” you trailed off. “I don’t know how to thank you, you’re—you’re amazing, really.”

“You have no reason to thank me, princess,” he said, making your heart skip a beat.

“I have many reasons.”

“No, and don’t worry about that asshole,” he said, nodding in the direction of the booth before turning to you, “but you need to call me when this sort of bullshit happens.”

“I don’t have your number,” you said and he paused for a moment as if he hadn’t thought about that.

“Right,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket before holding it out for you and you smiled, then took it from him. You entered your phone number, then sent yourself a quick text before handing him the phone back.

“There,” you said with a grin. “Now we have each other’s numbers. Technology isn’t so bad, huh?”

He gave you a small smile and you cleared your throat.

“So what can I get you?” you asked, shifting your weight from one foot to other in excitement, and he frowned for a moment.

“Any chance you’ve got some of that pie from earlier?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll be right back.”

You went into the kitchen and made your way to the counter to get out the pie, then cut a big slice to put it on the plate.

“Look at that, your mood is fixed for some reason,” Paul teased you and you scrunched up your nose at him, then grabbed the chocolate sauce bottle. You carefully drew the shape on the plate, your tongue sticking out from the corner of your mouth.

“So let me guess, he’s still not your boyfriend?”

You gave him a chiding look. “Don’t.”

“Hey, I’m asking to see if I need to set you up with one of my friends.”

“Oh I’ve met your friends,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll respectfully decline, thank you.”

“They’re pretty cool guys.”

“I guess I’m not cool,” you told him and picked up the plate, then pushed open the kitchen door to make your way to Logan who was sitting on the stool by the counter.

“There you go,” you said and put the plate in front of him. “You may be curious about what that shape is on the plate is.”

“Was just about to ask you about that.”

“That’s a cigar,” you pointed at it. “And there’s an X over it because cigars suck. And that’s a frowny face right next to it because to repeat, cigars suck.”

“I see,” he said with a small grin. “A very clear message.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked, stealing a look at the booth to check on the creep but the booth was completely empty. You blinked a couple of times before you turned to Logan.

“Logan?”

“Hm?”

“Where did that man go?”

He grabbed his fork. “He left.”

“…Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Your frown deepened. “Did you say something to him?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just a small warning, that’s all.”

You could feel the relief filling your system as a smile warmed your face, making you bite at your lip.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered as he dug into the pie while you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms on it.

“So you were around then?” you asked. “When you heard my heartbeat?”

“Mm hm.”

“How do you know it’s my heartbeat and not someone else’s?”

“I recognize it,” he said, making you raise your brows.

“Is that—” you started but were distracted by a customer asking for a refill, so you grabbed the coffee pot, went to refill his coffee and walked behind the counter again. You pulled out a mug to fill Logan coffee, then put it in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Is that what you did during the French Revolution as well?”

“To repeat, I haven’t—” he started but then his lips curled into a smile upon seeing the teasing glint in your eyes. “Right. Seriously, what is this fascination with French Revolution?”

“I was weirdly into historical documentaries while pregnant with Theo,” you said. “Kinda stuck.”

“Ah.”

“Speaking of all that though, what was 19th century like?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “Foggy.”

“…Very descriptive, Dickens,” you said with a nod of your head. “Professor X should have you teach literature, you’d do wonders in prose.”

That made him chuckle before he took his fork into his mouth, and you smiled at him before walking to another table to take their order.

As the sky went dark and the closing time got closer, you realized that you hadn’t even been paying attention to the time. Paul had left an hour ago, so had all the customers but you were so lost in the excitement of spending time with Logan that if it weren’t for your phone vibrating on the counter, you wouldn’t have even noticed it was past the closing time.

“But yeah, he literally brought a kitten home from the street,” you said with a smile as you walked to get your coat. “The said kitten is now Nik and Jamie’s beloved son, but—what are you doing?”

Logan pulled out his wallet and motioned at the empty plate and the coffee mug, making you narrow your eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Princess—”

“I will threaten you, I don’t care if you’re invincible and like 200 years old.”

He tilted his head. “You’re threatening me with threatening me?”

“Yes,” you said. “I will kill you with kindness and also this knife I found in the kitchen if you try to pay for it.”

“You’re terrible at threatening people.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” you muttered as you grabbed the plate and the mug to put it on the counter of the kitchen through the small window, and by the time you turned around he had already placed some cash on where the plate just was.

“Logan!”

“Technically I’m not paying for it, I’m leaving a tip.”

“That tip is more than the check.”

“Well that’s—” he started before his head whipped around, the playful smile wiping off of his face as a car pulled over in front of the diner. He gritted his teeth, making you pull your brows together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said. “Just do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll step outside for a moment,” he said. “Stay here.”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. “What—what’s going on?”

“I swear to you, it’ll take only a moment,” he said, his voice completely calm as he stood up from the stool. “Don’t step outside, okay?”

“Hey asshole, I don’t appreciate being threatened!” A shout came from outside and you took a step back, panic making you dizzy upon recognizing the voice; it had to be the guy from earlier. “So I brought some friends! How about we show you some manners and then entertain your girl?”

You could feel your blood freezing in your veins and you grabbed your phone. “I’ll—I’ll call the cops—”

“Don’t,” Logan said. “They’ll only get in the way. I got it.”

“Logan…” you started but a metallic noise reached your ears as metal claws sprouted from his knuckles, making your eyes widen.

“What…”

“Stay here.”

“I-but—” you stammered but he had already walked out of the door, making you cover your mouth. Fear pounded through your system, your eyes filling with tears as you sniffled, then grabbed the knife on the counter and took a step to the closed door, but blood splattered over the huge window, soon followed by the panicked yelling of the newcomers. Your stomach churned as you swallowed thickly, then you wiped at your eyes and rushed to the door with the knife in your hand before you swung it open.

The view you were presented with looked like something out of a movie. Two of the guys writhing on the ground, one of the crawling to the car while the other looked like he was crying. The man from earlier was also on the ground, holding onto his face but you could see the blood dripping through his fingers as Logan retracted his claws, then held him from the back of his jacket and lifted him up.

“You’ve got something to say to her?” he growled, and the man let out a sob, then lowered his hands, your breath catching in your throat upon seeing the gashes on his face.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he managed to whimper through pain and Logan dropped him on his face unceremoniously, then turned to you.

“What’s the knife for?” he asked and you blinked a couple of times, forcing yourself to drag your gaze from the man.

“I was coming to save you,” you told Logan, making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Yeah?” he asked as if humoring you and you nodded, then took a look at the men on the ground.

“Come on,” Logan said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Let me take you home.”

You felt like you were in a haze as you rushed inside to put the knife back, grabbed your phone off the counter, then shut down the lights and closed the door behind you, locked it and turned to Logan again.

“…Shouldn’t we call someone?”

“Nope.”

“But what if you get in trouble because of—”

“I won’t,” Logan answered, gently leading you to the motorcycle, his hand on the small of your back. He put the helmet on your head and you got behind him on the bike, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold onto him tight.

The road to your home felt almost surreal. The panic still hadn’t left your system yet, your mind going overdrive with everything that could have gone wrong, or would go wrong if those creeps had decided to press charges on Logan. Even though he didn’t look worried at all, you were beginning to think you worried enough for the both of you.

And if something had happened to him, if they had gotten to him before he could beat them—

No.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about it.

You hadn’t even realized that your cheeks were wet with tears when he pulled over in front of your house, his head turning to the side when he heard you sniffling. You swung your leg over the seat to sit sideways on it and he got off the motorcycle to help you take off the helmet but as soon as he did, you pressed your palms on your eyes, biting inside your cheek to keep yourself under control.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sniffling again as you lowered your hands before a shaky sigh left your lips. He lifted your chin with a curled finger, your eyes shooting up to his, your heart skipping a beat as he gently wiped at the tear under your eye.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off.”

The change in his tone was impossible to miss. That growl that had spilled from his lips while talking to that man was completely gone and now his deep voice was soft like honey, making you feel all warm inside. You blinked back the tears and shook your head fervently.

“You didn’t,” you said. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“But you’re scared.”

“Not of you,” you said, shaking your head again as you bit at your nail. “For you.”

That made him pull his brows together in confusion and you let out a breath.

“Logan, there were three people there,” you insisted. “They could’ve easily overpowered you—”

“That’s impossible.”

“They could’ve killed you!”

“Also impossible,” he said, a small chuckle escaping from his lips as if the idea was too absurd. “I told you before. I heal.”

“I’m sure there are exceptions to that, if they came up with a way—”

“Unless those guys were keeping a fully functioning high technology lab underneath the diner, they couldn’t,” he said. “Me getting hurt was not a possibility there, and the only reason they’re alive is because you were there. That’s it.”

You sniffled again.

“But did I make you betray a principle or something?”

“What?”

“Because the secretary of Mutant Affairs held a press conference the other day and he—”

“Hank?”

“Hank McCoy, yes. You know him?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well, he talked about how mutants have this principle—”

A dry chuckle climbed up his throat.

“I don’t have any principles when it comes to assholes like those,” he said, a shadow crossing his handsome face. “But nobody gets to hurt you or threaten you. That’s the principle here.”

Your head was spinning again for a completely different reason and you took a trembling breath, stealing a look at the building behind you before looking up to his hazel eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

“Would you like to—” you started but before you could invite him to your apartment, a car flashed its headlights at you two, making you turn your head to look at it.

Oh.

Your car.

Jamie was in the driver’s seat and he frowned slightly before he stopped the car and Nik leaned out from the open passenger seat window.

“Hey Sunshine!” he said. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

You closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again, then licked your lips.

“It’s on mute, I didn’t hear,” you said. “Uh, Logan, this is Nik, Jamie’s boyfriend. Nik, this is Logan, my…my friend.”

Nik gave him a grin as he eyed him up and down.

“Nice to meet you Logan,” he said before turning to you. “Get in, we’re taking you out to dinner. Your friend can come too if he’d like.”

You glanced up at Logan, biting at your lip and he took a deep breath, then cleared his throat as if trying to snap out of a haze.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am,” you said. “I just didn’t know they were coming—but um, would you like to join us? Nik is an expert when it comes to restaurants, he knows all the great ones.”

Logan shook his head.

“I’d better go,” he said. “It’ll be easier to track those guys down while they’re still bleeding.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll make sure they understand they shouldn’t cross paths with you ever again,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “That’s all.”

You hesitated only for a moment before you stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him, resting your forehead against his hard chest, the scent of pines and smoke surrounding you in the most pleasant way. He cradled the back of your head with one hand while his other arm sneaked around your waist and he nuzzled his nose into your hair to inhale deeply, making your heartbeat faster. Even though you felt like you could happily spend your whole life in his arms, you knew you had to step back especially with Jamie and Nik right there, so you slowly pulled back to look up at him. His hazel gaze went down to your lips for a moment before snapping back to your eyes and you swallowed thickly.

“Thanks,” you managed to say. “For…you know.”

“No problem, princess,” he said softly and stepped back as well, then nodded in Jamie’s direction before getting on the motorcycle.

“Be careful,” he said and you let out a small laugh.

“Likewise,” you said before he drove off and you shifted your weight before making your way to the car. You opened the door and got in the backseat, then slammed the door shut as Nik turned to look at you over his shoulder.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi Nik. Hi Jamie.”

“So that was Logan?” Nik asked and Jamie scoffed as he started the car.

“Yep. That’s the asshole I told you about.”

“Well, neither of you told me he was that hot,” Nik pointed out, grinning at you. “Did we interrupt something?”

You wiped at your nose, then shook your head. “Um, no.”

Jamie took a look at you from the rear mirror, then frowned.

“If that asshole made you cry, I swear—”

“He didn’t,” you said in a rush and buckled your seat belt. “I’ll tell you on the way. What are we eating?”

6 - Middle of the Night

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett

1K notes · View notes

golden-cherry · 9 months ago

Text

deal - cl16 (42/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The new bed is here! And Joris isn't happy about it!

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: LETS GOOOOOOOO!!! FORZA FERRARI!!!

“It was really nice of you to take the photos for Enzo and Charlotte,” Charles says as you both get into the car in the afternoon. He buckles up and starts the engine.

“It's my job, after all,” you smile and make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat.

Charles steers the car out of the driveway. "Well, actually it's your job to take pictures of me, not of my brother's engagement," he corrects you, for which you gently punch him on the shoulder.

“I still enjoyed doing it,” you say. "I'm very happy for Enzo and Charlotte. They seem like the perfect couple.”

Charles purses his lips and nods. "They've been together for a long time. We were all wondering when he would finally pop the question. But I didn't think he'd actually do it during Christmas.”

You look at him. ”Why not?”

“I don't know,“ he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I would have thought he would have done it in the summer, after a nice day on the boat and then maybe at dinner.”

You look at him. "Maybe he wanted to combine it with something nice – and Christmas is a celebration of love.” You can't help but grin. “And he didn't have to buy her a Christmas present, just a ring.”

Your roommate laughs. “Should I do the same to you next year? Just propose to you so I don't have to get you a gift?”

You know it's a joke, but when the words leave his mouth, you feel warm. You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “Absolutely not.”

The Monegasque steers the car through the streets of his home country. “And how should I propose then? Do you want a trip in a hot air balloon? At Times Square, where everyone is watching? Or at a Taylor Swift concert while she sings Love Story?”

You can't suppress a giggle. ”None of that, please.”

“Then tell me.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Mmm. I've never really thought about it much. But I think I'd rather have a moment that's just for the two of us. Where no one else is watching, where we're on our own. No onlookers, no one to talk about it. Just the two of us – I think that would be perfect.”

Charles squeezes your hand twice. “Good to know.” He smiles at you briefly before looking back at the road. “By the way, I asked Pierre and Kika if they wanted to go to Lando's party with us tonight. I hope that was okay.”

“Absolutely. I feel like I haven't seen Kika in ages. But it was only – what – four days ago?”

“I think so. They want to come around seven, so you two can get ready together and maybe have a drink.”

Without thinking about it, you lean over and kiss his cheek. "You're the best, Charles." You can see the blush rising in his face, but you let it go uncommented.

“I know,” he says with a grin as he turns into the underground parking garage. When the car comes to a stop, you both get out and you press the elevator button while Charles takes your bags out of the trunk.

“What are the parties like in Monaco?” you ask him as you both enter the elevator. ‘Do you have to dress particularly chic or does it depend on the club? How much money do I need to take with me? Is my ID card enough or do I need to take anything else?’ you bombard him with questions.

Charles has to laugh. ”Haven't you ever been out partying?”

You shake your head and press the button for your floor. “Not in Monaco, no.”

The elevator doors close and you feel it transport you upwards. The Monegasque looks down at you. “The club where Lando's friend performs is chic, but not super chic. If you like –”

“Where the fuck have you been?” an angry Joris bellows at you as the elevator door opens.

You almost have a heart attack from the shock, but Charles just looks at his best friend in confusion.

“Since when did you stop checking your cell phones? I've tried to reach you ten thousand times!” Joris's face is as red as a tomato as he snarls at you angrily and you get out of the elevator without saying a word. ”I was still asleep! And I didn't even get to eat breakfast!”

Charles puts your two bags down next to the apartment door. "And a good morning to you, Joris. How can I help you?” He walks past him, deeper into the apartment, Joris follows him, seething. You follow them in silence.

“How you can help me?” Joris asks snappishly, leaning on the kitchen worktop with his hands, before pointing at a few sheets in front of him with his index finger. “Next time you order furniture, at least be home when it's delivered, or leave your own cell phone number so they can call you if they ring the doorbell and you don't open it.”

Charles opens his eyes wide. ”Our bed.”

Joris sneers. “This shitty bed has cost me valuable hours of sleep. And I certainly shouldn't have driven here.”

Charles can hardly keep a grin off his face as he turns around and opens the fridge. "How many bottles of wine did you drink yesterday?", he asks, placing eggs, vegetables and bacon on the counter in front of him.

“Two.”

Your roommate gets a bowl and a pan out of a drawer before he starts to crack the eggs into them. “Did you throw up in your front yard?”

Joris rolls his eyes and watches as Charles prepares his hangover breakfast. "No.”

“Then congratulations,’ Charles grins. ”Then you had a successful Christmas.”

The omelette tastes so good that Joris's anger disappears with the first bite. He talks about Christmas dinner with his parents and his brother and the family vacation planned for next year, while he shovels the omelette into himself like a bulldozer. In between, Charles slides him coffee across the counter in a cup, but doesn't dare get closer to his hungry and hungover friend.

“By the way, the bed is very nice,” Joris finally says, pushing the empty plate away. ‘You could have at least warned me.”

“I'm sorry,’ Charles apologizes with pursed lips. ”Are we friends again?”

Joris sighs. “Of course,” he smiles, getting up from his chair to embrace his oldest friend. They both pat each other on the back before letting go. “I have to go now. By the way, I gave the delivery man a €150 tip for kindly setting up the bed. Thank God you had some money lying around.”

Charles watches his friend go in the direction of the apartment door with confusion. “The setup was already included in the price.“

The photographer purses his lips. "At least they got a nice tip," he finally says, before leaving the apartment and leaving you two alone.

Without saying a word, you take the dirty dishes and wash them in the sink while Charles puts your bags in the bedroom. When he returns, he stands directly behind you. You can feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes.

“We also have a dishwasher, you know?” he whispers, laying his chin on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your middle, his chest pressing against your back.

You nod and lean against him. “But we don't need to run the dishwasher for that,” you reply, breathing in as his hand slowly slides under your sweater. “It was very nice of you to make Joris breakfast, even though it's already afternoon.”

“Mm-hmm,” Charles hums softly. "It was the least I could do. It was really nice of him to come here to take delivery of the bed. I'd completely forgotten that I put down his cell phone number."

“Joris is a good friend.”

“He is,” he murmurs and kisses your cheek. ‘But I prefer to have you lying in my new bed." He gently pulls you out of the kitchen towards the bedroom where the new bed is. Joris was even kind enough to make the bed; dark gray sheets are smoothly stretched over the mattress and you would love to snuggle up in them.

“It looks incredibly cozy,“ you smile.

“Come on.” Charles gently pushes you towards the bed. “I told you I wanted you in it.” He watches you with eagle eyes as you slowly crawl onto the bed and slip under the covers, putting your cell phone on the nightstand. As if you've been conditioned, you have to yawn.

“The bed was definitely the right decision,” you smile and stretch your arms to fold them behind your head. "But it was definitely the wrong decision to trick me to get into it.”

“Why?’ your roommate chuckles. ”Too comfortable?”

“Definitely. I'd love to stay here forever.” You tap the empty side of the bed next to you. ”Come and try it out.”

Without wasting another moment, Charles circles the bed and lies down next to you. His arm wraps around your middle again and pulls you towards him so that your chests are touching. “I see your point. It is pretty comfortable.” His hand slides up your back under your sweater until it finds its place between your shoulder blades.

You close your eyes and breathe out. “Do we have to go out partying tonight? I mean, can't we just order take-out and stay in?”

“Of course we could do that,” he smiles. 'But I highly doubt you want to cancel on Kika and Lando.”

You sigh. ‘We could invite everyone here," you suggest. ”The bed is big enough for all of us and –”

“Absolutely not,” he interrupts you and shakes his head vehemently. ‘The only ones allowed in this bed are already in it. Nobody else is allowed to snuggle up in the covers. Besides, I don't like the thought of you lying in a bed with Lando.”

You raise your hand and gently run your fingers through his brown curls. "Are you jealous?”

A deep growl escapes Charles' throat. “Maybe.”

You lean forward and kiss his stubbled cheek. ”You do know that Lando is the reason we're friends again, right? Because he called you when you were in Italy?”

“I am aware,“ he mumbles, pressing you closer. "Doesn't mean you have to share a bed, though.’

“You don't have to worry about that,” you grin. “There's only one man I want to share a bed with.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Don't worry, Charlie. You're the one I mean, of course.”

“Perfect.”

You lie in bed for a while, legs tangled and snuggled together. You gently run your fingers through his hair while his fingertips caress your back. Lying here with him feels so normal, so familiar, that you don't ever want to be in a bed without him again.

“You still haven't answered my questions about tonight,” you say eventually, and your hand gently caresses the soft skin at the nape of his neck.

Charles almost moans, his eyes closed. "I'll pay for you.”

“But I can pay for myself," you smile, even though he's not looking at you.

“Doesn't matter.” Your fingers pause in their movement. Charles fidgets a little, wanting for you to continue.

“You're about to fall asleep, Charlie," you giggle, but comply with his silent request.

He moves closer to you and cuddles his face into the hollow between your jaw and your shoulder before taking a deep breath. “I'm not,” he replies softly. “But lying here with you is so comfortable.” He leisurely pulls at your sweater to reveal the skin on your neck and places feather-light kisses where your pulse is beating. Goosebumps spread across your body.

“Charles...”

“Let's cancel on everyone,” he whispers, and his hand moves to your thigh to drape your leg over his hip so that you are literally pressed against each other, body to body. You feel his hardness against your clothed core.

You sigh. “But you just said that we can't cancel,” you reply. “Besides, you already said yes to Lando and invited Pierre and Kika.”

“I don't care,” he breathes. “Let's be crappy friends and cancel at the last minute. I'm sure the others will understand.”

“What will they understand, hm? That the bed is so comfortable that we don't want to leave it?“ you ask him quietly.

“That I'd rather be here in bed with you than standing in a crowded club.” His breath caresses your neck gently. “That I'd rather test out the new bed with you than yell at you over the loud music just to be able to talk to you.”

His words make your face heat up. You hope he doesn't notice. “Then we'd be very bad friends.”

“Then let's be very bad friends,” he grins against your neck before pressing a final kiss on your pulse. “We can make it up to them sometime. Just not today. Today I want you all to myself. Now that I finally have you back with me.”

You feel him press his boner against you and you absentmindedly tighten your leg around his waist. Your fingers gently press into his neck muscles and his breathy moans reach your ears. You can feel your arousal pool in your panties and you want to give in so bad.

You want to stay home with him. In this bed. You want to repeat last night at his mom’s house, but this time the both of you would be able to show how much pleasure you give each other. You desperately want to hear him groan again, but now without the barrier of your hand on his mouth. You want to feel his cock against your pussy, sliding through your folds and gathering your juices.

God, you want to repeat last night but without any clothes on. His cock nudging against your clit, sending jolts of electricity through your veins. His hands grabbing your ass and moving you over his length. You want to feel the the tip of his dick catching in your entrance before finally sliding in, stretching you deliciously.

You want to fuck him so bad that it’s making you dizzy.

“What are you thinking about, mon amour?” Charles asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you can answer him – which you don't really want to do anyway – your cell phone rings. The Monegasque reaches for it without hesitation, answers the call and puts the person on speakerphone.

“Allo?”

“Hello, you two,“ Kika's voice sounds from your cell phone. ‘How are you? What are you doing?”

“We're testing my new bed,’ Charles replies with a grin, and you hide your face in the duvet.

“You can't say that,” you say, reaching for your cell phone, but your roommate extends his arm so you can't get to it.

“Why?“ Charles asks hypocritically. "It's true, isn't it?”

“Charles!”

Kika laughs loudly. "Should I call back in a minute? I don't want to disturb you guys doing whatever it is you're doing.”

“It's fine,” you call to her, although she would have understood you even if you had spoken normally. “What can I do for you?”

The Portuguese woman giggles. “I just wanted to ask what you would like to drink and what you are going to wear.”

You open your eyes wide. "Um, I have no idea. What do people wear in the clubs here?" You repeat the question you've already asked your roommate.

“How about this?” She begins. "Pierre and I will come a little earlier and go through your closet together? The guys can play video games or something. And we'll get ready in peace and quiet."

You like her suggestion. ”That would be great.”

“Great. Pierre and I are going out for a quick shopping trip and want to buy some wine. You drink sweet, right? Then I'll bring you something.”

“Thanks!” you reply and with a big stretch you finally get to your phone in Charles's hand. "See you in a bit!" You hang up and put the phone back on the bedside table. When you turn to your friend, he's pouting. ”What's wrong?”

He turns on his back and crosses his arms over his chest, which is a little difficult considering your leg is still wrapped around his waist. “I was kind of hoping you'd cancel on them.”

A smile spreads across your face. You slide closer to him again and reach for his arms to separate them before you roll onto him. Your knees are next to his hips on the mattress and instinctively, his big hands find your ass.

“I'm sorry, Charles,” you whisper, leaning down so that you are completely on top of him. Your elbows are next to his shoulders and your hands are finding their way into his hair again. ”We don't have to stay long.”

The Monegasque exhales. “As long as you promise me that we'll stay in bed tomorrow, that's okay with me.” When you purse your lips, he groans in annoyance and pushes his head back into the pillow. “Do I have to go to camp with Andrea tomorrow?”

You nod slightly. ”I'm afraid so.”

“That's terrible,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you. ”Then we won't see each other again until New Year's Eve! What will I do without you during that time?”

You don't want to think about spending the next few days without him, which is why you change the subject back to tonight.

“How about this: Kika and Pierre are coming over soon and we'll party later with Lando and his DJ friend,” you begin your suggestion.

Charles raises an eyebrow. ”I don't see any compromise I'm willing to make.”

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Just let me finish. So - we're all going out to party in a bit, and when we get back home we can make ourselves comfortable in bed here, watch another movie and not get out of bed until noon tomorrow.”

“Do we have to be dressed to watch the movie?” he asks mischievously, and as you move to roll away from him, he turns you both so that he is now on top of you. He grabs your thighs and puts your legs back around his waist, and as he nestles against you, almost crushing you under his weight – which feels better than you care to admit. You feel his boner between your legs.

“Charles,“ you moan softly as his cock softly nudges against your clothed clit.

“Do we have to be dressed?” he repeats his question and slides his hand under your sweater, his fingers spreading over your sides.

You breathe in his scent and bask in his warmth. “We don't have to,” you reply without giving a thought to what it means for you. But you couldn't care less about that right now.

Charles's lips breathe light kisses on your neck. “Then it's a deal,” he whispers before withdrawing completely – leaving you high and dry. “Come on. Our friends will be here soon. And I doubt you'll want to be in our bed then. No matter how comfortable it is,“ he grins and leaves the bedroom. But as he walks through the door, you can still see him put his hand in his sweatpants to fix his erection.

Somehow you're glad you have the same effect on him as he does on you.

Hot blood courses through your veins when you think about how the evening will end. You would love to pull Charles back into bed, rip his clothes off and let him ravish you until you can't walk anymore.

That will have to wait.

But anticipation is half the fun.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

737 notes · View notes