#and the guests having a good time are the best parts of these movies

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY

Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.  

The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*

Warnings: heartbreak

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions. 

At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.

‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party. 

There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.

Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you. 

A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.

I thought that too.

Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours. 

Until he wasn’t. 

You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt. 

Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.

How could it still hurt after all this time?

With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’ 

In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job. 

Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head. 

The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded. 

Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change. 

Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.  

At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile. 

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about. 

‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’ 

Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’  

The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine. 

Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’ 

Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts. 

Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’ 

‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’ 

But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring. 

Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache. 

You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain. 

His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.  

As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’. 

‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.

‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’

‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’ 

‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’ 

He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak. 

You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’

—

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[appropriatelystupid]

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Three - Playdate

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.5K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Daniel held Olivia's hands as they walked towards the house. There was a cat sat outside of the door, watching as the approached. When they got too close, the cat scarpered, running into the neighbours garden.

Stepping up to the door, Daniel knocked. He squeezed Olivias hand as they waited for the door to open.

"Coming!" Came a faraway voice. In no time at all the door was open and Y/N was welcoming the two of them into her house.

"Hey Olivia!" Y/N cheered as she pulled open the door.

Daniel grinned as he and his daughter stepped inside. "Hey," he said as Y/N shut the door. "Thanks for doing this." He muttered the last part, trying not to let Olivia hear him.

"It's no problem," she said, walking in front of them and leading them into the living room. "Can I get either of you something to drink?"

As soon as Olivia was in the living room, Milo was on his feet, shouting his name as he ran towards her. The two embraced and Milo pulled her into the middle of the room, where he had a collection of toys already set out. "My Momma said we can watch a movie while we play," he said, sitting on the floor.

As the two began playing, Daniel sat on one of the sofas and Y/N walked in with glasses of water for her guests. "What're we watching, kids?" She asked as she sat on the opposite side of the sofa to Daniel.

"Barbie," Olivia said instantly.

"Momma no! I don't want to watch barbie!" Milo suddenly called.

Y/N opened a streaming service and began scrolling through the kids section. "How about we find something we can all agree on?" She said calmly as she searched for a movie.

They settled on the Lorax. The kids played as Daniel and Y/N watched over them, the film playing in the background.

As they played, Y/N shuffled closer to Daniel. "I wasn't sure what to get for dinner so I got several different pizzas. I hope that's okay."

"That's more than okay," Daniel said as he took off his Red Bull hat. "Olivia doesn't get pizza very often."

"Why's that?" She asked as she looked at him, her body full turned towards him (this didn't go unnoticed by Milo and Olivia).

Daniels fingers drummed against the arm of the sofa. "She might have it at her mums place, but Livvy insists she eats like me when she's at mine so she can be just like her daddy."

Before Y/N could push for more information, Olivia turned around. "Daddy, shut up!" She called.

Suddenly, Daniel levelled her with a look. "Do you want to try that again, little lady?"

She blushed pink and looked down at her socks. "Daddy, could you be quiet so Milo and I can watch the TV?"

It was better, but Olivia still could have been politer. But Daniel let it go. He didn't push, didn't want to embarrass her in front of her friend.

Towards the end of the movie Y/N got up. She stood from the sofa and walked out of the room, leaving them there while she went to the kitchen. With the doors open, she could hear as the kids watched TV and played while she put the pizzas in the oven and set a timer on her phone.

After a short episode of scooby doo, the kids were sat at the kitchen table, two pizzas in front of them. They picked and chose which pizza they wanted, leaving what they didn't. Y/N knew they'd never eat it all, leaving what they didn't want for her and Daniel.

After they had eaten, Milo pulled Olivia out of the kitchen, and up to his bedroom. Poppy that cat had made her way up to his bedroom while they were all downstairs, sleeping on Milo's bed. But, as soon as she heard them running up the stairs, she scarpered, running down the stairs and out of the cat flap.

Full and tired from an afternoon of playing, Milo and Olivia soon found themselves asleep on the floor. Their parents found them when Y/N gave Daniel and tour of their small house. She picked up Milo and placed him in his bed as Daniel scooped up Olivia.

"I guess we should get going," he said, holding her in his arms.

Y/N looked towards her bedroom. She and Daniel hadn't had a proper chance to talk, and she wanted to know more. He was intriguing, incredibly so, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. "Well, you could let her have a nice little sleep in here," she said and pushed open her bedroom door.

Daniel grinned as he walked Olivia into the bedroom. He laid her down onto the bed and laid her down in it, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Leaving the door open to give her some light, Y/N took Daniel back downstairs. They walked through the kitchen and out into the back garden. The porch light was on as they sat on the swinging chair and faced each other. "Can I ask you something rather personal?" She asked as she gently rocked the chair with her foot.

"Go for it," Daniel replied, Poppy the cat suddenly jumping up between them. She ignored her owner, immediately settling onto Daniels lap, promptly falling asleep.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. It was something that had been weighing on her mind for the last week, something that Milo had told her when he first met Olivia. "Milo says Olivia doesn't like her mum. Can I ask what that's about?"

The smile dropped from Daniel’s face. He did that a lot, Y/N had begun to realise from the two times she had met him, He shifted in his seat as he scratched at Poppy’s coat. “Olivia doesn’t talk to me about what happens at her mum’s house. But she does talk to my parents. She doesn’t hit her, but she does make her miserable. Olivia gets locked in her room whenever she shows the slightest hint of attitude and her mum’s constant stream of boyfriends piss her off. She said that once, that they piss her off. I’ll let you guess where she learned that.”

Daniel went on, becoming more and more distressed. But Poppy pawing at his leg stopped him. He scratched at her chin and looked at Y/N, letting a smile cross his face. “Anyway,” he said. “My turn with the deep questions.”

He asked the one question Y/N wasn’t keen on answering. Not that she wanted it to be a secret, and she was definitely going to answer him. But after five years it still wasn’t the easiest subject to talk about.

“I was nineteen when I found out I was pregnant with Milo. I told my partner at the time, and he wanted nothing to do with me. I told my parents, and they wanted nothing to do with me. So I took off, moved out here, got a job and gave birth to Milo. It’s been just me and him ever since. His dad knows nothing about him and never will. It’s me and Milo against the world.” She sat up a little straighter. As it got later in the day, the sun began to dip and the air turned ever so slightly colder. “How about you? What happened with you and Olivia’s mother?”

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. He actually shrugged. What kind of response was that? But Y/N said nothing as he began talking. “We were in love, moved too fast. Olivia was born exactly nine months into our relationship, when I was racing in Silverstone-“ A fact Daniel would never forgive himself for, that he missed the birth of his daughter. “-Things had been sour between us since before Olivia was born, but we tried to stay together for her. But we realised she would have been growing up in a shitty environment, so we went our separate ways.”

They continued talking through the night, until Olivia and Milo came running downstairs, now wide away. Milo climbed into his mother’s lap while Olivia grabbed a hold of her father’s arm. “Daddy, can we live here?” She asked, reaching towards Poppy the cat.

Daniel laughed. He went to stand up, moving Poppy from his lap, and scooped Olivia into his arms. “Come on, Badger. Let’s get you home to bed.”

She pouted, laying her head on his shoulder. “Can we come back tomorrow?”

For a minute Daniel looked like he was thinking about it. “We could,” he mused. “Or we could take Y/N and Milo to the park, play on the swings and get some ice cream? How does that sound?”

Both kids cheered.

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[oddinarylani]

'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.

w: blood, violence in changbin's

pt 2 is ⇀ here

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 

his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 

two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 

chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 

he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”

and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 

maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”

that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 

but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 

and it eventually all came to a halt. 

the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 

“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 

“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 

“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”

“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.

“i really really wish you just cared for me.”

it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 

“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 

“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 

“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 

“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”

it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 

because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.

“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 

“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 

you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 

“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 

when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 

“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”

 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 

lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 

it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 

and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 

he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 

“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 

most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 

you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 

upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 

your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 

“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 

“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 

“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”

“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”

“but,, it seems to never be enough.”

“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.

against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 

every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 

because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.

what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 

you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 

“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 

“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”

“i want to work in matrimony of us.”

“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”

“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”

a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 

“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 

you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.

your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 

“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”

in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 

“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 

“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 

he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 

“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 

“i wasn’t lying.”

minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 

“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.

your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 

“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 

“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 

“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”

“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 

“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”

minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 

there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 

being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 

“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 

“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 

“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 

“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 

when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 

“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”

you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 

you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 

“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 

“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“it’s okay. you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.

you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”

“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 

“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 

“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 

“i know, i will be.”

careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 

you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 

“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 

“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 

“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 

hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 

“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 

“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 

“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 

“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 

changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 

“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 

“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 

“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 

his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 

“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”

he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 

“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 

“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 

he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”

you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 

“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 

after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 

his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 

“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 

“deal.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 

across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 

you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 

in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 

you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 

there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 

but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 

beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 

“i’m sorry.” 

for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 

two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.

when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 

“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 

“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 

that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 

“i can dress her.” 

they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 

“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 

“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 

you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 

hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 

his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 

“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 

“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 

“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 

“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 

“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 

“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 

“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 

“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 

you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 

hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 

he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 

“i agree.”

sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.

[1800classiccherries]

Slideshow!

⚘ 1610!Miles Morales x black!fem!reader

⚘ fluff! use of n word like once, teen romance

⚘ summary: Miles and Y/n make a slideshow to convince his parents to be able to be in his room with the door closed.

⚘ wc: 631

You and Miles were on his bed, sitting in silence a foot or so apart, which was odd because you two were never normally this awkward. Occasionally one of you would glance at the wide open door, revealing Miles's parents walking by here and there, which is why you two kept your distance.

For context, when you and Miles first started dating, you two weren't allowed in his room and had to stay in a public space like the living room; however, y'all are obnoxiously loud. When you two were playing games, loud. Even just talking, you two laughed loud. Except, when it was a movie night, it was quieter because y'all were so wrapped up in the plot.

To be honest, y'all were fine in the living room, but it was rough always being told to quiet down. The volume of you two in the same room was too much, so Miles suggested to his parents that you two go to his room instead of being confined to only the living room. Under one condition, the door stayed wide open.

And so there y'all were sitting side-by-side in a semi-awkward silence.

You feel the weight on the bed shift closer to you, and an arm makes its way over your shoulder, "Hey."

"Nigga, what?" you say without thinking at his cheesy attempt to make a move on you.

With a pout, he takes his arm off your shoulder and leans back upright, "You ruined the moment."

You giggle at his pouting, feeling a little bad about your reaction, "My bad, stink, it was a natural reflex. Try again," you offer, tossing your locs over your shoulder.

Miles clears his throat before leaning back over, putting an arm over your shoulders again.

"Hey." He says with a smirk and a tilt of his head.

"Hi," you respond, tilting your head the same way, your eyes glancing down at his lips before back up at his eyes.

"You look really pretty right now," He compliments, leaning in.

"Thank you," you whisper with a smile, leaning in as well.

You hear someone clear their throat walking past the doorway of his room, causing both of y'all to quickly move away and back into the awkward silence.

~

A week or so later--that situation happening again and again--you and Miles were on Facetime brainstorming ideas for the slideshow y'all planned to make to convince Miles's parents (mainly his mom) to let y'all have the door closed.

The both of you knew it was ambitious to shoot for something so big, so that's why you had to create the best slideshow presentation of all time.

"Okay, what do we think about this template?" you ask, turning your camera around to show a classy slideshow template.

"Perfect." he nods, and you add him to the slideshow.

~

A few days of hard work and planning go by, and it's now the day you two scheduled to present the presentation.

In preparation, the two of you coordinated your most trustworthy-looking outfits and practiced how you would present. Y'all knew you both were being extra, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter because y'all were having fun.

"Greetings, esteemed guests," Miles opens, gesturing to the title slide on tv.

You and Miles alternated presenting slides, explaining how having a door closed is reverse psychology, decreasing the chances of anything happening. Also, the classic, if the door was closed, grades would improve (don't know how, but there was a graph to prove it), along with a few other random and made-up examples.

"Thank you for your time," you close, and the two of you bow.

Following suit, his dad gives a round of applause, "That was actually pretty impressive."

His mom sighs, "We'll think about it."

Thanks for reading!

Ngl i wanna do a part two but at the same time i dont know if it'd be any good... if youd be interested in part two lmk

part 2

[ktempestbradford]

A Story for Star Trek Day

I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).

The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.

(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)

Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!

When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).

Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.

I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)

Then... they announced Deep Space 9.

We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.

I'm still bitter.

I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.

I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3

I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.

I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:

Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...

And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.

We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.

Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.

And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.

...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.

That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!

His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA

And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.

I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. ❤️🖖🏾❤️

Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.

[hannyoontify]

how your relationship with seventeen was revealed

warnings | reader wears nail art for minghao's part

notes | reader is also an idol, kinda unrealistic in some parts but whatever js let me have this one LMAO, not proofread

seungcheol – an interview

he thought it was high time to reveal your relationship to the world. after (a lot of) discussing with you and receiving your permission, he mentioned you during an interview for a magazine shoot. the question was smth around the lines of "what do you do when you have a particularly bad day" and cheol casually said "i go to [name] for comfort. they're a really special person to me and always cheer me up whenever i'm feeling down. i'm lucky to have them." with an absolute love sick smile.

safe to say, twitter almost crashed after that interview was released and you confirmed it on a livestream js a couple days later. (both pledis and your company were not happy but fuck them)

jeonghan – your hair color

your company's very big on self-expression when it came to physical appearance, so they never forced a hairstyle / makeup / clothes on you or your members. you were free to dye your hair however you wished, and you mostly kept it natural. until you met jeonghan. a couple months into your relationship with him, jeonghan came up with the idea of matching hair colors. he often had to dye his hair for comebacks, and instead of dying your entire head, he suggested that you would only get a single, visible strand of hair dyed in the same shade. you loved the idea and no one really noticed, not even your own company, until a eagle-eyed carat pointed it out on tiktok. the entire kpop community knew you and jeonghan were close since you both guest mc-ed together before and one of your members were close with seungcheol. and it seemed legit. the entire internet blew up and it even became a trend among couples. your companies both released a statement just a few weeks later, confirming the allegations.

joshua – his podcast w/ vernon

there was a question sector of the podcast he hosted with vernon where carats could submit questions via twitter and he and vernon would answer them. he saw a question that asked about their thoughts on your group's most recent comeback, and vernon managed to sneak in a few praises, complimenting the composition of one of the bsides before shua began a word vomit of praise, specifically for you. he complimented how much you improved since the last comeback and how good you looked in the music video, the teaser photos, the most recent stage, basically everything. he was so busy talking that he didn't notice the massive side-eye vernon was giving him and once he stopped talking, joshua physically slapped a hand over his mouth because oops.

no worries though, you thought it was funny and thought it was high time that the two of you revealed your relationship. joshua got clowned for it a lot though, especially by vernon.

junhui – instagram

the two of you tried your best to time your posts so nothing seems suspicious. for almost a year, your pictures from cat cafe dates to museum dates and late park dates went unnoticed by fans. that is, until your group went to japan recently for a short trip for promotions and jun tagged along since he had no schedules for 2-3 days. you found a cute convenience store during a late night walk with him and took pictures. some on your own, some of only him, and some together. except this time, the two of you forgot to talk beforehand and you both posted the photos on the same night.

your manager scolded you for being so careless, but truth be told he didn't actually care. he thought it was funny and only had a word with you because as your manager, he had to. (he already knew beforehand and thought you guys looked super cute together)

hoshi – seungkwan

you and hoshi were having a movie date night but you guys weren't particularly in the mood to actually watch a movie so the two of you just fucked around the whole night, prank calling different members to see how they would react and watching instagram reels (because hoshi swears by them and thinks they're better than 'that stupid clock app'). (the funniest reaction you got so far was mingyu, who was half asleep when you facetimed him and asked him if his refrigerator was running. when he responded with a groggy 'yes', hoshi said that he better go catch it and mingyu actually dropped his phone to go catch it.) the next victim was seungkwan, who you didn't know was doing a weverse at the same time. when seungkwan received the incoming facetime call from hoshi, he grinned and decided to accept the call by showing the camera his phone screen. what he didn't expect was to see hoshi's arm wrapped around you and his chin tucked onto your chin when he answered the call.

when seungkwan accepted the call, the first thing you saw was a reflection of you and hoshi, and you recognized the familiar flow of comments flying past the unfamiliar phone screen at an incredible speed. you dropped hoshi's phone in sheer panic and glanced over at your boyfriend who looked as equally panicked, his jaw basically reaching the floor. poor seungkwan began fumbling for a random excuse but it was too late now. the cat (tiger) was out of the bag.

wonwoo – via the company

wonwoo never thought there was a point in hiding your relationship from the public. he was with the person he loved and what a few jobless netizens had to say about your relationship wouldn't change that. after a couple months of 'testing the waters' and seeing how far the two of you would commit to the relationship, wonwoo just straight up went to the ceo of pledis and went 'yo i'm dating [name] from [group name] and you can't stop me' (with your permission of course, and you did the same thing) after a lot of discussion with both your ceo's, the companies agreed to simultaneously release a statement to the public about your relationship with wonwoo.

woozi – his lyrics

we all know woozi projects everything that's going on in his life through his song lyrics. yk those posts where people are like "i need someone to break bruno mars' heart again" bc his breakup songs are so good? it's like that. the latest seventeen comeback is FILLED TO THE BRIM with love songs and everyone and their mother is like "what the fuck is going on" because woozi's written love songs before but not like this??? the lyrics seem so much more deeper and personal, and the listener can almost feel woozi's heart and soul being poured into the lyrics and melody. woozi personally denied anything on a weverse live but people caught on once he released a mixtape of a love song and the lyrics contained a physical description of a person that was a little too similar to you.

minghao – books (and nail art)

minghao likes reading books. you like reading books. that doesn't mean you're dating, right? so many people in the world love to read books, that doesn't automatically make you lovers, right? ... right, except you read and post about the same books minghao reads and recommends to carats. even then, that could've been a coincidence, right? you just have similar taste in books.

wrong. you made a silly mistake of saying on a live how all your favorite books were recommended by a super close friend that you held dear to your heart. still, you can just be friends with minghao, right? wrong again because fans noticed that you had matching nail art with minghao's, the signature 8/infinity sign on your nails. there was no point in being in denial any longer.

mingyu – instagram

another silly little mistake. he recently came back from a trip with just you and him, and naturally, he wanted to upload some photos to instagram for his lovely fans to foam at the mouth scream over (he knows the power he holds). he was lying in bed (next to you), ready for bed as he scrolled through chose different photos to upload. what he didn't realize was that he had also clicked on a photo of you and him kissing in the dark, under a streetlight. it was a classic, romantic kiss. his hand was resting on your lower back, your arms wrapped around his neck as he dipped you, your leg held up by his other hand. almost immediately after posting, mingyu set down his phone and went to sleep in your arms.

the next morning, he woke up to about 56 missed calls from his manager, a BUNCH of weverse notifications, and 300+ messages from the seventeen group chat (that came back to life for the first time in almost a month and it wasn't js seungcheol talking to himself)

dokyeom – weverse live

dokyeom is surprisingly not shy when it comes to his relationship with you. after a few serious discussions, the two of you ventured out to the streets of seoul in broad daylight, your hand tightly entwined in his own, but no tabloid or news outlet seemed to catch whiff of it. dokyeom was frustrated because he wanted to show you off to the world, tell everyone that he was yours and you were his, but no one was bothering to expose it. so he decided to take this matter into his own hands. after receiving permission from both companies, he started a weverse live–with you. the two of you sat side by side, awkwardly waiting for more and more viewers to enter the livestream. obviously the entire internet went insane when dokyeom held his hand in yours and said with a proud smile that the two of you were dating and would appreciate all the love and support. and the internet officially lost it when he pressed a kiss to your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

it was cute, and even his manager–who was sitting behind the phone–was smiling as he watched the two of you together.

seungkwan – an entertainment show

similar to joshua. a couple members from your group were guests on a show that seungkwan was a regular cast of to promote your upcoming comeback, and of course they already knew that you were dating him. before the recording, they were teasing him (they're all already very close) and kept mentioning your name, which made seungkwan turn into a bright red tomato. during the recording, when it was time to promote your group's most recent comeback, your group members stood in the center of the room and gave a little sneak peek to the choreo of the title track, which seungkwan followed to with on the side (people didn't notice this until the airing of that episode–and an fyi, this was before their official comeback). and when the time came to the talk about the production process, seungkwan immediately began to ramble about how much you improved on your live singing and how proud he was of you. he also talked about how you talked to him about how much you struggled with the change of concept and how you pushed through those hard trials. he also couldn't forget about how good you looked and how the concept change looked really good on you and the new makeup look accentuated your eye color. at the end of his very long speech, seungkwan realized what he just did and sank into his chair with his bright red face buried into his hands.

vernon – vernon being vernon

vernon did a vernon and randomly revealed it on a weverse live, almost giving his poor manager a heart attack. he was reading through the comments when he randomly said 'by the way, i'm dating [name] from [group name]' HIS POOR MANAGER. HAD A MINI HEART ATTACK BEFORE TURNING OFF THE LIVE IN A PANIC. the following day, pledis released a statement, confirming vernon's impromptu confession.

dino – dispatch

my poor boy was the only one who fell victim to dispatch 😭 he was so careful not to get caught because he didn't want you to receive any backlash. specifically went on dates later in the day so the two of you wouldn't be as easily recognized, trying to stay home as much as possible, covering up as much as you both could. but eventually, dispatch caught the two of you hugging at the entrance of the hybe building at 11 pm. first, weird. why were they watching you guys at 11 pm. second, seungcheol was so relieved that the secret was finally out because he was running out of excuses as to why dino was almost never at home anymore.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[haddonfieldwhore]

bedsheets - ethan landry

nsfw // no spoilers 🔪 // pre ghostface attacks

warnings: nsfw, protected!sex, sub!ethan, sub!reader, friends to lovers, language, slight praise kink, it’s just fluffy as hell, not edited!!

soft ethan playlist 🎧

can be read as a part 2 to “tired” or on its own

you and ethan walked out of study hall together, after an especially boring lecture that had you almost asleep at your desk.

“that was the longest 2 hours of my life,” you sighed, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you shoved your textbook into it. “i think i’m gonna skip the afternoon today.”

“i could meet up with you later? i’ve still got english today, but i’ll be done at 3,” he offered. you grabbed his hand, dragging him in the opposite direction of his class, and he smiled as he followed behind you.

“or…,” you began. “you could skip your classes and just hang out with me now,” you suggested,

giving him your best puppy dog eyes. ethan knew he could never say no to you, and let you drag him to his dorm building.

the door closed behind you as ethan set his bag down on the floor, and you followed him to the living room area of his dorm.

“hey man,” you heard his roomate, chad call out to ethan from the other room.

“hey. we have a guest so i hope you’re decent,” he laughed.

“yeah i’m good, dude.” chad said walking out of his room, indeed fully dressed. “hey,” he greeted you, and you smiled in return.

“don’t you have class right now?” chad asked ethan, who was grabbing each of you a drink from the mini fridge in the tiny kitchen area.

“yeah.. i was gonna go, but this one’s a bad influence, they convinced me not to go.” ethan gestured to you, and you playfully raised your hands in surrender.

“well, i’m on my way out, so the place is yours,” chad explained, winking at ethan behind your back, and the he pushed his shoulder in return. you sat down on the couch and waved goodbye to chad as he slid his letterman jacket on and walked out the door. ethan sat next to you, turning on the tv.

“movie?” he suggested, and you nodded.

“you pick- i’m cool with whatever,” you replied, and ethan flipped through a stack of dvds before picking one and putting it in the player. the menu screen for “i know what you did last summer” popped up and ethan pressed play. you weren’t honestly too interested in the movie, just happy to not be in class. ethan and you had both seen the movie before, so you didn’t think he’d mind talking over it.

“where was chad going?” you asked.

“to hang out with tara i think,”

“do you think he’s ever gonna make a move on her?” it was obvious to everyone that chad and tara were into eachother, except for chad and tara themselves. ethan laughed, a smile spreading across his face as he thought of his friends.

“maybe. i can’t believe neither of them see how into eachother they are,” he admitted. “i think i’d figure it out if one of my friends had a thing for me.” you hoped ethan couldn’t see the blush on your face as you thought you were going to sink into the floor. you and ethan were best friends, and had always been incredibly close. it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep in each others arms after a movie on the couch, or for you to sit in his lap at sam and tara’s when there wasn’t enough chairs for everyone. and you were perfectly content with it never being anymore than that, since you thought that’s what ethan wanted.

“yeah…” you replied, trying to focus back on the movie, but all you could think of was how close you and ethan were. his leg was just inches from brushing against yours, his arm over the back of the couch. it would be almost too easy to curl into his side, to rest your head in his chest and listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart like you had what felt like a thousand times before. so why was it any different now? why did you have to complicate things all of the sudden?

“you okay?” he asked, leaning closer to look at you, and you tried to avoid looking into his pretty brown eyes.

“just…. tired,” you whispered, not even sounding convincing to yourself, as you looked down at your lap.

“you know i can tell when you’re lying right?” he asked softly, and you looked back up at him, your noses almost touching.

“eeth-“

“can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. you tried to reply, but couldn’t form words, nodding instead. ethan leaned forward, closing the gap between you and gently pressing his lips to yours. “come here,” he whispered, taking a hold of your arm and pulling you onto his lap, straddling him as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

“please-“ he cut you off by kissing you again, his lips so soft as they moved with yours. your fingers clung to the fabric of the front of his t-shirt, before sliding over his clavicle and up the sides of his neck, and he let out a whine underneath you. ethan’s arms tightened around your waist, moving you against his lap slightly, and you moaned softly into his mouth. his hands slid up the back of your shirt slightly before he stopped, separating his lips from yours.

“is this okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“yes, this is more than okay,” you assured him, connecting your lips again. his warm hands still sent shivers up your back as they slid underneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they moved higher. your hand moved up the sides of ethan’s neck and twisted into his chocolate brown curls, tugging slightly.

“hmm..fuck,” ethan whimpered, and you bit his bottom lip gently, causing him to moan loudly. his hands slid down your sides to grip your hips, moving you to grind slightly against him. “can you feel what you’re doing to me?”

“i’m sorry….do you want me to help you with that?” you teased, moving your hand down to palm his hardening length through the fabric of his jeans. his head fell back against the soft couch, exposing his neck. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you leaned forward to gently nip at soft skin below his jaw.

“i need you,” ethan moaned as you left hickeys up his throat, and he shuddered underneath you as you found his sweet spot. “fuck-“

“you can have me,” you assured him, and he lifted his head to look at you, his gaze soft as he brought his hand up to hold your chin lightly, his thumb tracing over your lips. you opened your mouth and let him slide his thumb past your lips, sucking on it slightly, and he involuntarily bucked his hips upwards slightly in response.

“do you….do you want to go to the bedroom? or stay here?” he asked, quickly loosing his composure as you continued to move yourself against him.

“bedroom?” you said, but you honestly didn’t care; you just wanted him, it didn’t matter where. lifting you slightly as you stood, ethan leaned down to kiss you now that you were both standing. his hands still on your hips, he guided you towards his room, his lips never leaving yours as you tried not to fall while walking backwards through the doorway.

ethan gently laid you down on the bed, grabbing something from his dresser drawer before crawling on top of you and gently kissing your forehead. his fingers traced your face from your temple down to your chin, and he tilted your lips upwards to meet his again. you arched your back, lifting your hips to meet his and he moaned, allowing you to slide your tongue into his mouth. your hands slid under his shirt, silently requesting it be removed and he got the hint, pulling away and sitting up slightly to pull it over his head, messing up his hair slightly in the process. you took the opportunity to undo his belt buckle, before his fingers found yours and took over, removing the belt completely.

“can i..?” he asked, waiting for your permission as his hands found the hem of your shirt. you nodded, and lifted yourself upwards to make it easier to remove. removing your remaining articles of clothing, you were both naked in front of each other for the first time, but there wasn’t any time for feeling self conscious or nervous as ethan kissed you again, and your hands traveled down to stroke his length gently. he moaned into the kiss, before burying his face in the crook of your neck as you began to move your hand back and forth. he whimpered as you ran your thumb gently over the tip, and he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

“you sound so pretty, baby.” you cooed in his ear, and he bucked his hips into your hand at your voice.

“please…god you look good like this- underneath me,” he mused, and you smiled. “slow down,” he instructed, his fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop your movements. “i wanna be inside you.” you nodded, and he grabbed a small packet from next to him on the bed, opening it and letting you help him slide the rubber onto himself.

“ethan-“ you moaned, as you felt him position himself at your entrance.

“are you sure?” he asked, and pushed himself into you after hearing you reply yes. you both moaned as the feeling of his movements sent shockwaves through your bodies. he waited while you adjusted, pressing his forehead to yours until you gave him the okay to move. starting off with slow thrusts, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to yours again. he began to quicken his pace and you tugged harshly at his curls in response.

“do that again-“ he inhaled sharply as you obliged, pulling his hair as he thrusted harder into you. “fuck, you feel so good,” he whined. “i’m gonna flip us over, okay baby?” you nodded, and ethan rolled over, now sitting on the bed with you in his lap, your legs around his waist, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you than before. your eyes rolled back in your head and he held you close, his large hands roaming your back.

“ethan… fuck-“ you had trouble forming words, you eyes glossy as you and ethan looked at eachother. he rested his forehead against yours again as he thrusted upwards into you, his rhythm becoming sloppier as he neared his peak.

“you’re being so good for me,” ethan whispered, and you rolled your hips against his, causing him to swear under his breath.

“i’m so close, e,” you whimpered, so near to the edge that you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. “tell me i’m yours.”

“your mine,” ethan almost growled, and his movements stuttered as you tumbled over the edge, contracting around his length as he frantically slammed into you.

“fuck, i’m never gonna get over you,” he whimpered in your ear, the feeling of him inside you getting to be too much.

“come on, baby, i wanna hear you when you come,” you pleaded, tugging on his hair harder than before, and he moaned loudly, shaking as he finished inside you, his warmth spilling into the condom as you moved your hips to coax him through it. you were beginning to feel a little overstimulated, and tears began to form in your eyes as he slowed his hips before stopping his movements completely. collapsing gently on the bed, ethan carefully pulled out of you, removing the condom and disposing of it before getting a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

you lay in bed next to him, his eyes closed as he lay facing you, his curls messy and damp with sweat as you gently brushed them off his forehead with your fingers. his eyes were closed, a light blush in his cheeks and a soft smile on his lips. his brown eyes opened slightly, and his hand reached up to gently caress your cheek. you leaned forward to kiss him and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“we should’ve done that a long time ago,” you admitted, your fingers crawling up his skin to gently trace the shape of the dark purple hickeys you’d left on his neck and collarbones.

“yeah- we should’ve. but we can do it a lot more times,” he said, laughing lightly, his voice deep with drowsiness. “i like you here like this. in my bed.”

“i like being here; with you,” you replied, relaxing into ethan’s embrace and closing your eyes. with a final kiss to your forehead, you drifted off to sleep, and ethan followed shortly after, safe and warm in each others arms, where you belonged.

[starstruckmoony]

Hello! May I request a muggle AU with Theodore, with this meet-cute prompt: "they're on opposite sides of a wedding party to the bride and groom" (prompt is from @/thewritersafterglow on Instagram). Thank you! I know this request is in good hands :)

aaaaaa thank you anon! <3 this is the first request i've got in a while (again tysm it made me very very happy <3<3) and i had lots of fun writing it so i hope it meets your expectations!

can't help falling in love.

masterlist , requests

pairing - theodore nott x reader

trope/tags - muggle!au, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff (side note - this isn't particularly realistic because i don't really know how weddings work in different parts of the world, so i kind of just went by how they function in my country and some bits and pieces i've managed to pick up from movies and such. i know it probably won't be accurate for everybody but i tried my best LMAO)

word count - 3k

warnings - language, drinking, smoking, cheesy at the end

when you recieved an envelope in your mail one fine morning in late may, you never would have expected it to be an invitation to your primary school classmate's wedding in the english countryside. you could still recall the wonderful memory of choking on your coffee and scaring the life out of your poor cat when you saw her name plastered in big letters in the center of the paper, right below a picture of her and her fiancé. it was a miracle how she remembered you existed. to be frank, you were kind of honoured, and you made sure to confirm your arrival almost immediately. hell yeah, you were coming. free food and alcohol? who in the right mind would pass on that?

so about three months later, sometime in mid-august, you found yourself inside of a crowded venue, sweating buckets in your silky green dress, without a fan, or anybody to keep you company. a few of your old classmates were there too, but not a single one of them bothered to offer you a greeting. what a bunch of arseholes.

you stood leaned against the wall in the very back where there were fewer people, attempting to cool yourself down by fanning the air around you with your hands as you waited for the godforsaken ceremony to finally start. to nobody's surprise, the bride was a little late, and the groom's family was in a mild state of disarray. it was kind of funny, but not as funny as it would have been if you weren't feeling so bloody hot. do they not have air conditioning in here? how do people get married in these conditions? and why does the best man look more terrified than the groom?

the loud sound of somebody's shoes scraping against the tiles right next to you shook you right out of your train of thought, and you placed your hand against your chest in horror, "jesus christ." you muttered under your breath, the unfamiliar man attempting to catch his breath scared the life out of you.

he glanced at you for a split second, appearing rather exhausted (aftermath of sleeping through five alarms and having to run to the venue because his friends were too lazy to wait for him), "sorry." he offered you an apology breathlessly, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. you thought that you were being overdramatic when it came to the heat and the current atmosphere of the wedding, but this man seemed to have surpassed you. he was rather handsome though, despite being drenched in sweat from what you assumed was running, also paired with the humid air inside. his eyes were strangely captivating, and he looked a little too good in that suit of his for it to be considereded legal. were you staring? you were probably staring. you trailed your eyes away, pretending to be entertained by the groom's father who was attempting to explain the situation to the guests. you cursed inwardly, realising that you'd be stuck in there for a long time.

you turned to the pretty guy again, deciding that you should, perhaps, talk to him, "you don't look like you wanna be here." fantastic start. those probably weren't the words he wished to hear in those circumstances, but your observations didn't seem to annoy him at all. he actually chuckled instead, "am i that transparent?"

"quite." you responded a little too nonchalantly than intended, taking a quick glance at the door in hopes that you'll see the bride come in. nope. you returned to your original position. how wonderful that was, more waiting.

"do you have any water in there?" the man spoke again, pointing at the purse you had tucked under your arm.

you took it in your hands and peeked inside, knowing that you most likely wouldn't have what he was asking for, "no," you shook your head, but continued rummaging through it, "i have this, though." you pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor and shrugged before shoving it into his face.

he didn't hesitate to grab it, he would have taken anything that was liquid enough. he drank it all, not that there was much, before handing the bottle back to you with a scowl. he coughed a little as the alcohol burned his throat, and you couldn't help but snort. 

"i don't know how smart that was." it wasn't, really, since it would only dehydrate him more, but it worked for the time being. he coughed again, falling back against the wall, finally able to breathe somewhat normally.

"you'll find out in a few hours," you didn't miss the smile that painted his features, and it encouraged you to carry on, "how do you know the bride... or the groom?" you questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going to kill at least some of the remaining time you had. you were bored out of your mind.

"the groom," he nodded briefly, "we went to college together, funny bloke, he invited me and my two other friends who are... somewhere in here," he stretched his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd for a short moment, "eh, whatever." he shrugged, and then reached into his pocket, but quickly retrieved his hand. it was still empty. you had assumed he reached for a cigarette before he was able to remember where he was.

"you won't go looking for them?" you queried, finding his neutrality over the whole situation slightly bemusing. it wasn't every day that a hot guy like him ditched his friends for you, and it was rather pleasant to think about. he was hoping he wasn't being so obvious about it, but you read him a little too easily.

"what, bored of me already?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"i might be, now that you said that." you scowled in pretend disgust, drawing a breathless laugh from him. you shortly sunk into a not overly uncomfortable silence, both internally debating with yourselves about whether you should keep it going or not. you were kind of drawn to each other, after all. the consequence of attending a wedding without a date must have had an influence on it, you told yourself. he mustered a similar, lame explanation.

"i'm theodore, by the way." he decided to break the ice after a while, and you almost sighed in relief, "y/n." you shook his hand politely.

"nice wedding." he added, his face scrunching at the sight before him. the sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

"delightful, isn't it?" you offered the older lady that passed by you a forced smile, and then eyed her giant pink hat judgementally. you and theodore resembled a mean high school couple who had an opinion on absolutely anyone and everything, just standing there, laughing amongst yourselves and making fun of all the other guests and their stupid pastel outfits. it made sense why your classmates hadn't approached you, but you didn't let them occupy your mind any longer. you found yourself a like-minded companion for the night, one that was ten times funnier, and the prime example of eye-candy.

"imagine she never shows up." theodore said after you shamelessly fed one another with some interesting past gossip about the bride and the groom. judging by what he had told you, those two were a match made in heaven. and you could say that with your whole chest.

"god, don't plant that idea into my head. i spent my last three paychecks on this bloody dress." you snorted, dusting it off when you noticed that it had got a bit dirty.

"it looks perfect on you, though." theodore's little compliment took you off guard, and he must have noticed judging by the way he grinned.

"thanks." you felt yourself blush a little at his comment, and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, the bride's mother burst through the door, announcing that her daughter would be there shortly. you exchanged a relieved glance with theodore, fucking finally.

despite the long wait, the ceremony played out quite beautifully. the couple exchanged their vows, humourous and tear-jerking all at once. people laughed, people cried, somebody's baby did both. the best man hadn't forgotten to bring the rings, and the maid of honour looked happier for the bride than the bride. nobody backed out last moment, and nobody objected after the infamous "speak now or forever hold your peace". you left the venue with a smile on your face, pleasantly surprised.

theodore and his friends offered to give you a ride to an even larger venue where the reception was being held after you told them that you had arrived with a cab, and you happily accepted their offer. the two idiots he came with were just as unserious as he was, and you had soon found out that they all attended the wedding with the same intentions as you. eat food, get drunk (and then sleep in the car because mattheo wants to get wasted but doesn't want to run them off the road and kill somebody in the process).

the reception, thankfully, moved a lot faster than the ceremony. by some sheer dumb luck, you had been instructed to sit at the same table as theodore, lorenzo and mattheo. your shitty classmates were there too, so you assumed that the table was designed specifically for that - old friends from school that the newly weds didn't talk to very much, but still liked them enough to invite them.

so, after the grand entrance, loud clapping and cheering, a cute speech from the bride, more clapping and cheering, the best dinner you had had in a while, a few more emotional speeches, and even more clapping and cheering (hollering this time, too), the dj finally showed up. it was the part of the night you had been the most excited for. the first dance was absolutely beautiful and even brought a few tears to your eyes, but god, the moment you heard an onset of lower-than-nightclub-quality music blast from the speakers, your hopes had all gone down the drain.

the dance floor filled up in a matter of seconds, and you had never been more appreciative of the existence of wine. not a single song that was played in the span of fourty-five minutes was your cup of tea. and as different people's requests kept incoming, it only got worse.

theodore seemed to be having the same problem. mattheo too, considering he had about five shots in less than half an hour. lorenzo wasn't doing much better either. he was entertaining himself by making paper planes out of tissue paper and leaving them on the table like a strange art project.

"this music is terrible." theodore's voice was completely drowned out by the godawful sounds coming from the speakers, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying.

"what?!" you shifted a bit closer to him, covering one of your ears with your palm to subdue at least some of the noise.

"i said that this music was terrible!" he tried not to shout, but it would have been impossible for you to comprehend whatever he had said if he hadn't done so. yes, it was fucking awful. many people would disagree, considering how many of them were still on the dance floor, either fully wasted already or slowly getting there. at least the newly weds were having a good time, both slightly tipsy too.

"tell me about it!" you yelled back, rolling your eyes. you considered asking him to accompany you outside, for a smoke or something, though you didn't really need an excuse. anywhere would have been better than in there. but you chickened out before you were able to speak, continuing to sip on your wine in silence. silence, that was funny, mostly because of how unbearably bloody loud the music was.

lorenzo suddenly stood up, and he yelled something into mattheo's ear. the other stared at him in confusion, and then burst out laughing into his face. he turned to you instead, and you saw his lips move, but didn't understand a thing he was saying.

"huh?!" you and theo yelled out in unison, and lorenzo waved his hands dismissively at you, defeated. he pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and shuffled over to the dj. he threw an arm around the man, probably trying to make some friendly conversation. they seemed to be getting along.

perfect. you reached for the wine bottle, refilling your glass and taking large gulp. you were hoping that lorenzo had enough charm to sway the dj into playing something else. it took about twenty minutes of insignficant chit-chat for the man to finally nod and give him a thumbs up, and that's then the beginning of dancing queen blessed your tortured ears.

you gasped in shock, immediately getting up onto your feet and latching onto theodore's arm. he didn't really protest when you tugged at his sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor which got even more crowded than it was before. mattheo managed to fall out of his chair, but he followed the two of you and joined you in the mass of people.

"thank me later!" lorenzo yelled your way before a pretty girl grabbed his attention. the night got so much better from then on. the dj appeared to have whipped up a large playlist of abba's work, since the songs were playing one after another, each one bringing your mood up. you had completely blocked out anything that had happened before you heard the tune of the first song, and you had only returned to the table with theodore to refill your glasses before running back to the dance floor.

you couldn't recall the last time you had that much fun, singing your heart out, jumping up and down, showing off some ridiculous moves, letting theodore hold your hand and spin you around. the dj stuck to the same genre for a while, playing old pop songs, keeping everybody on their feet. some of them you didn't know, but you weren't about to sit back down after doing so for almost two hours, so you danced to them too nevertheless.

that is, until your legs started hurting a little too much for it to be tolerable and your throat had got a bit sore from belting several songs with the bride. your head was spinning too, courtesy of having so much wine. theodore took the opportunity to ask you to accompany him outside (because he really needed a cigarette) after some slow tune neither of you were familiar with had been put on.

you nodded your head took a hold of his hand as he led you out the door. you clumsily made your way down the stairs, laughing as you did so. the effects of alcohol were beginning to show themselves.

as fun as it was, getting out of there for a short while was a need. you slumped down onto one of the stone benches placed outside the venue, sighing comfortably as the chilly breeze of the night cooled you down.

you immersed yourself into another casual discussion, not a very significant one, as neither of you could even stand properly for too long without stumbling, but it was nice breather from the wild atmosphere inside. you liked talking to theodore, and even with your clouded thoughts, you knew you'd want to see him again after this. there wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"i thought i'd have to leave early." theodore laughed to himself as he took the last drag from his cigarette, and then tossed the burnt out stub onto the concrete.

"and make me stay here all alone?" you teased, although you probably would have left too if it wasn't for lorenzo and his skillful flirtation tactics or whatever the hell that was.

"who said i wouldn't bring you along?" his response made heat rush to your cheeks, and you put your head down with a breathless chuckle. you were quiet for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts.

"you know, this might sound a little weird, but," you chewed on the inside of your cheek, not really able to think straight. you were tipsy, after all, "i'm glad i met you today," you tilted your head to the side, drunkenly observing him, "you're nicer than i anticipated." as backhanded as it sounded, that was the best you could do.

it was theodore's turn to blush after you said the words, and it didn't manage to go past you, despite him trying his hardest to hide it.

"yeah, i mean no– it's not weird, i'm uh," he trailed off, contemplating whatever it was that he wanted to say next. honestly speaking, he didn't know how to put it into words, "i'm glad we met too, you're–"

one thing that theodore hated was tripping over his words and not being able to be blunt with somebody he took a liking to, which is why he was so, very grateful to hear elvis' can't help falling in love coming from the inside of the venue.

you looked up at him when you realised which song it was, waiting to see if he'll ask you to dance. and he did, but he didn't lead you back in through the door like you thought he might. you stayed outside in the light wind, slowly swaying to the music, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck.

you liked it better that way, just the two of you in your own little world with nobody else to disrupt you. you let your head rest on his shoulder, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit, like he was making sure you won't leave him. you smiled to yourself, god, that was the last thing you were planning on doing.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b.) - part two

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: lavender haze - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and Bradley go on a date. they say the wrong things --or right things-- and surprise each other as they get to know each other better. warnings: language, so much unresolved tension, mentions of character deaths, fluffy heartfelt stuff, but also like sexy stuff 👀 notes: i had so much fun writing this! special shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse who had to deal with my annoying thots at all hours. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always. happy reading! <3

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Subject: Guest Attendance Confirmation From: management@annabels.co.uk

Dear Madam,

Thank you for confirming your information regarding your upcoming visit to Annabel’s.

It is our pleasure to host you for your dinner reservation on the 23rd of March, 2023, as a guest of our member Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. We hope that you have a wonderful experience dining and entertaining at the Club with us.

In order to ensure your positive and memorable experience with us, we kindly ask all members and guests to be aware of a few key rules of the Club:

DRESS CODE. We encourage individuality and style in your smart attire. After 6PM, gentlemen are required to wear jackets. Read the full dress code guidelines here.

PHONE & PHOTOGRAPHY. As a Private Members’ Club, we kindly ask Members and Guests to refrain from taking photographs within the Club’s premises. Posting content to your social media from your visit to the Club is not permitted. Phones must be kept on silent at all times and are only permitted for use in limited areas of the Club.

For guidance, read the Rules & Bylaws of the Club here.

If you require further information or assistance, please do not hesitate to reach out through this email address or by phone at +44 20 7946 0011.

Thank you and see you soon.

Best wishes, Maude Adams Floor Manager.

***

You’re not sure why you’re bracing for something to go wrong.

The restaurant is rife with opulence, with rich chartreuse and bronze walls and Japanese-style paintings over classic British architecture. Bradley booked a little corner booth just off the fireplace, the privacy still granting a nice view of the grandiose bar across the room. He pulled up your chair and told you that you look beautiful—a good three or four times, and it feels just as genuine as the first. With your show and his training the next day, you both had to pass on the booze and settle with some green tea to go with your food. Conversation flows effortlessly, exploring easy topics like your shared love of old movies, the Venn diagram of your music tastes, the novelty of the sport that he plays…

“Okay, but how did you get into soccer—I mean, football?” You smile sheepishly as you correct yourself. “Sorry. Wouldn’t wanna get maimed to death by the locals.”

He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” And then he takes a deep breath as his finger toys with the condensation on the side of his glass. “It’s… uh, my dad, actually. He bought me a soccer ball for Christmas when I was like 2 and… it’s most of the memories I had with him, playing kickabout in the backyard.”

“Oh?”

He smiles—diplomatically, all things considered. “He died when I was 4.”

Your face falls. Fuck. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It was a long time ago. And I feel like he’s with me every time I step on the pitch.” Bradley nods, ever so reassuring. He’s had enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for every time his dad comes up in conversation, and he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to do the same.

“But hey, I think it’s wonderful… that he’s right there in spirit with you every game.” You smile back, trying to save this slip-up in conversation. “And I bet your mom’s really proud of you, right?”

To his own surprise, he chuckles. It really is true that tragedy plus time equals comedy. “I mean, I like to think so.” He notices your questioning look, and realizes he needs to let you in on the joke too. “My mom died when I was 17. Cancer. I moved out here and lived with my godfather. Got scouted for Arsenal.”

And there it is.

You’ve been so worried about all the external factors going wrong, that you didn’t consider that the faulty one might be you. 

The clinks of plates and cutleries suddenly become so loud. The subtle piano playing over the speakers sound garbled, like you’re underwater. And the salmon sashimi in your mouth tastes like lead now. How the fuck does lightning manage to strike twice?! 

“I’m sorry, I…” and now you can’t even muster up a proper apology, because what do you even say?! The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a lame excuse, “I… thought it was a good idea not to Google you.”

His heart catches at the sight of you, all wide-eyed and dumbstruck. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with you there. Foot in mouth and all.

But you… you think you must’ve looked so stupid right now. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, no, no. It’s alright!” Bradley quickly interjects, that twinkle of amusement in his eyes still lingers. “I appreciate it, actually. I’ll take awkward moments with you over anything else you can Google about me.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Of course. I mean… it’s not like you killed them, did you?”

There’s a split second of silence, when you meet his playful gaze, and his mouth pulls into a grin over your petrified look, and then… the tension simply melts away in a sigh of tentative laughs. The garbled underwater music has come up to the surface, the dining noises dissipates, and everything turns back to normal… ish.

“Anyway, what about yourself? How did you get into… all of this?”

“Oh, it’s all I’ve ever known, really. Pretty sure I sang before I knew how to talk. I was always pestering my mom about ballet and piano lessons and living room concerts… I was that kid, you know?”

The image makes him smile, and it sends butterflies to your stomach. “Your mom must’ve been thrilled.”

“Eh.” You shrug flippantly, and that non-answer is enough of an answer for Bradley. “But she knew I was stubborn as hell, and she’s better off letting me tire myself out than trying to stop me, so…”

“But you didn’t.”

You shake your head. “By 5, I was on Broadway—”

His jaw falls open, and he looks at you like grew a new head. “I’m sorry. Five years old?”

You raise your hand in defense, not wanting to oversell yourself. “To be fair, though, it was mostly luck. My mom was working in the theater company and they needed a kid, so I volunteered to stand in—I mean, naturally,” you roll your eyes at yourself, “And they liked me. So they put me on. But I didn’t have to do anything but pretend to be asleep while the adult cast carried me around.”

“Still. That’s more than most people can say. You continued doing it afterwards, right?”

“Mm-hm. Stage, commercials, TV, the occasional movies… anything I could get my hands on.”

Bradley studies you with this look of awe—not an unusual reaction, he’s sure; it’s a pretty impressive feat. But he also catches a lost sense of melancholy in the way you say it, and he can’t help but ask, “Did you have a childhood at all?”

And your heart catches. That’s something nobody ever asked you before… “What do you mean?”

He pauses, realizing he may have inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject with this line of questioning. So he tries again more carefully. “I just meant… you’ve been working most of your life. Did you ever just get to be a kid?”

“I…” you trail off, considering your answer. You want to say yes, of course you did, but the little sting in your throat makes you question yourself: did you?

And with the soft look in his eyes, you know he knows the real answer to that. Both of you do.

It’s alarming how disarming he can be, and you would hate it… except you don’t. At least not enough to make you run off. “I guess, being in that kind of environment, I didn’t really know how to be a kid…? If that makes any sense.”

Bradley nods, understanding. He’s not entirely sure how to respond, but he wants to be empathetic.

“I went to school and made friends for a while, but…” Normally this would be an uphill point in your story, but tonight… this part is tinged with distant sorrow. “I got a record deal when I was 15, and suddenly I was living in LA and working in the studio or going on tours and… I just wasn’t a kid anymore.”

It breaks his heart, the thought of a childhood lost on you like that. “Wow. You really have lived a life, haven’t you?” He can’t resist but reaches out for your hand. 

The touch makes your heart catch, and it feels overwhelming. It feels like you’re gonna burst, so you chicken out with a lame joke. “Haven’t slept in 22 years.”

Bradley can’t help but smile at that, squeezing your hand three times in comfort. And just like that, the bubble bursts and the world continues on its axis once again. He finishes his last slice of tuna tataki and washes it down with his konacha.

“You know, for how much you’ve done since you started out, I thought you’d be more… Hollywood.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Hollywood?”

“Okay, that came out wrong,” he admits bashfully. “I just… you’re very down-to-earth. And real. I guess I expected more, like, an attitude?”

“Oh? I can have an attitude…” you smirk coyly over your tea, “...if you can handle it.”

Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of him. It’s insane how easily you switch from being sweet and vulnerable, to flirty and borderline devilish. But he wasn’t born yesterday, and he knows he’s well-equipped to handle this back-and-forth.

“I think you’d be surprised by what I can handle.”

Oh, here comes the fun part. “Is that right?”

He nods, leaning into you a little bit from across the table. “I think you’d find a lot about me surprising.”

If the whiff of his Tom Ford Black Orchid catches you off-guard, you don’t show it. Instead, you mirror his body language, propping your chin on your knuckles for good measure. “Like what?”

God, he really wants to kiss you… but it’s way too soon, and he doesn’t know how you feel about public displays of affection. “Like… I’m a pretty decent cook. And I like reading.”

“An athlete who can read? My, my…” you smirk teasingly.

Bradley laughs. He walked right into that one. But he’s not ready to admit defeat yet. Instead, he makes use of that bedroom voice girls like so much to push the point further. “That’s right. I know how to use the washing machine, too.”

You bite your lower lip and sigh, shuddering a little from his low rasp but definitely playing up the dramatics. “You do? Mmh…” 

Jesus. If that’s you faking it, he can’t wait to make you all wet and needy for real. “And you wanna know the best part?”

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the lustful tension is real. “Yeah?”

He leans in just a little closer, head tilting as if he’s moving in for a kiss. Maybe if he throws it out there… “I can put together Ikea furniture.” 

You throw your head back and feigns a quiet but dramatic moan for your one-man audience. “Oh my gosh, I think I just came in my pants a little.”

Fuck. He really wants to make you come now. With his fingers, his tongue, his cock—

Your gaze drops to his mouth, the stupid 80’s pornstache you’ve never been into before this, the soft inviting lips underneath. The ball is in your court now, and you know he would kiss you earnestly if you close the distance…

But you burst out laughing instead. Bradley releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, although your bright laughter doesn’t deter him from thinking dirty thoughts about you. If anything, it just makes you ten times hotter in his eyes.

“Well played. That was a good one,” Bradley concedes, his face turning just a little bit pink.

“We should probably stop before the staff kicks us out for having too much fun,” you lean back into your seat, looking around the restaurant, making sure no one is listening. Squeezing his hand three times as the next course arrives… not entirely putting the kiss off of the table either.

Bradley recommends the vanilla mille crepe to close the meal, and you come up with the idea of sharing a slice. The dessert arrives, a lush little golden brown thing with thin layers of cream in between, so simple and so intricate at the same time. He lets you take the first bite—insists upon it, actually. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.

That, and he wants to watch your face twist in pleasure again. Eyes fluttering closed, chest falling in a sigh, lips parted ever so slightly... God, he can’t wait to be the one responsible for it.

“Amazing, right?” He beams at you, very pleased with himself.

“Mm, it truly is,” you hum in agreement, watching him take a bite. It gives you a naughty idea… “It’s so amazing, I might just hijack this whole thing.” You jokingly pull the plate a little closer to you.

Bradley playfully holds the plate back, looking faux offended. “Hey! Come on. You know I’m a little bit stronger than you, right?”

“Please. That’s never stopped me before.” 

“Really?”

“I have my ways…” your finger reaches out just enough to touch his, just slightly.

Between that and your eyes darkening in mischief, Bradley fights hard not to turn into goo under your slightest touch. He bites the inside of his cheek to contain himself. “You’re really making me earn this, aren’t you?”

“Why? Girls never gave you a hard time before, Mr. Big Time Football Man?”

He laughs. “No. But you’re probably the only one giving me this hard a time for a bite of dessert.”

“Is that all we’re playing for? A bite of dessert?” you smirk, egging him on.

“What else do you think we’re playing for here?” He takes a second bite, maintaining eye contact as he does so.

You take another bite and lick the cream off of your fork. “I don’t know. A bite of… something else?”

Ah. So we are interested. Bradley is unfazed as he gently warns you, “Careful. I might take you up on that.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.”

The tension rises as reality sinks in. You both want to fuck, and looking at the trajectory of the evening, there’s a good chance you will. And it sobers you the hell up, pulling you both straighter in your seats. Sharing the slice of cake in quiet civility. Keeping a completely respectable distance, as if worried you don’t trust yourself not to climb over the table and kiss him senseless. 

But the game… oh, the game is on.

“I don’t know about you, but… I was thinking maybe a few bites, though.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, yeah. I intend to explore every part of this… dessert.”

You stop chewing for a moment. There’s something so hot about how he says it so casually. “That’s… very optimistic of you.”

“Not optimistic enough to decide if kissing you out here was a good idea,” he admits sheepishly.

“Why is that?”

Bradley shrugs. “Just a hunch.”

He’s right, of course. He didn’t choose an ultra-exclusive, members-only establishment with a no-phone policy just for kicks. He sees the security detail that follows you around, lurking at a safe distance—from back at the club. And tonight, you’re traveling light with just two bodyguards, each strategically posted near you and the exit, but it’s still more than he’s ever encountered. There’s no way you would risk a first kiss in public, no matter how discreet the place is. No matter how much you like him.

And you like him a whole lot.

“Tell you what…” you put the fork down as quietly as you can. This is the moment of truth. “I’ll let you kiss me all you want back at my hotel, hm?”

Bradley’s eyes light up instantly. He takes a moment, not so much to consider his options, but to process what’s about to happen. “I would like that very much, yes.”

“Alright, then. Shall we?” you smile brightly, flagging the waiter for the check.

“Uh, yeah. Totally. We shall,” he stammers a little, recovering fast enough to snatch the check and slips his credit card in the tab. Barely addressing the waiter as they walk back to the till.

It all happens so fast, and you whine in complaint. “Oh, come on!”

“What, was I supposed to let you pay or something?”

“You were supposed to let me pretend to fight for it, at least…” you huff.

He smiles in amusement. You are so adorable, it makes his heart fucking swell. “Okay. Next time I’ll let you pretend. I’ll even give you a little pushback for good measure, how about that?”

“Perfect.”

“Now, let’s go back to your hotel and… I don’t know, pretend you have to try really hard to resist my charms.”

“Yeah, okay.” You chuckle in agreement. This is really happening. Wow. And just as the excitement sets in, another point of concern pops up in your head, like a really annoying notification. “Did you drive here or…?”

He nods. “You wanna take my car?”

“No, I got a car waiting for me…” you smile apologetically, glancing at her bodyguard. There’s no way they’re gonna let you jump into some guy’s car. “And there’s gonna be paps out front…” Here comes the tricky part. “Would you… mind if we… go separately and meet up at my hotel?”

Oh. Bradley’s face falls a little upon realizing that he can’t just walk out the door with you. He sees how this works. You don’t want the media to jump on this first date, and it’s actually a smart move. Besides, what’s a few more minutes to a whole night of complete privacy? “Sure, no problem.”

You nod tentatively. Well, that was surprisingly easy… “And just to be clear, this has nothing to do with you. It’s just… this whole thing can be a circus, and I don’t want you to deal with anything you didn’t sign up for.”

He smiles at you. Bless you for being so thoughtful, but it does make him wonder if other people have had trouble with it. But maybe that’s a question for another time. “Hey, I totally understand. We’ll just meet up at the hotel and leave it at that.”

“I’ll text you, okay?”

You squeeze his hand gently before you get up, making your way out of the restaurant. Powering through the camera flashes as soon as you walk out of the front door. Giddy because you know something these vultures don’t.

Meanwhile, Bradley sits. Waits. For one minute, and two, and three. Looking at people walking in and out, wondering how inconspicuous he would be if he walks out now.

And then…

His phone buzzes.

[misstycloud]

Yandere actor x actor reader in an interview?

“So, as you know the movie has now become a major success in the movie industry,”

You and the man beside you both nod in unision at the hostess statement, confirming her remark with a certain pride one receives after all the hard work finally pays off.

“-what would you say was your favourite part to film?” The woman asked, intrigued. She turns her curious gaze towards you first, so you go ahead and answer.

“Well I would say it was the resturant scene, since we actually got to eat real food. And if the shot wasn’t good enough they’d have to bring out a new full plate to reshoot it.” You professionally replied with a laugh.

The woman and rest of the audience chuckled along at your confession. She even made a joke of accusing you of messing up on purpose so you’d be able to taste the dish over and over again.

The question was then directed at the other guest. He crossed his legs while straightening the tie on his very expensive suit, giving him a cold and rigid appearance.

“I personally favoured doing the wedding.” Was all he said. Nothing more nothing less.

The show host laughed in an awkward manner at the short and uninterested reply. You wanted to sink into the cushioned chair and pinch your brow. Could he stop doing that, you begged mentally.

Although it’s basically what he’s been doing all through his career and people should’ve really seen it coming by now, you still wished to save the embarrassment.

Deciding to do something, you nudged his arm with your elbow and whispered, “What else? What about it made you like it?”

Ace’s face lit up in realisation and ‘ah’ed. “The Production Designers made a great job in creating the venue. They made it feel like a real ceremony. Everything was done in near perfection, the decorations were good suiting my tastes and all.”

“Oh, is that so, and what was the best part of ‘your wedding’?” The hostess leaned in closer, anticipating his answer.

A small hint of a smile grew on the caramel-haired man’s face, so small in fact that it would be hard for anyone but you and the other woman to catch it. “The best part you ask? It is without a doubt that I got to see (Y/n) looking so beautiful- not to say she isn’t always- but I am sure you understand what I mean.”

She burst out in giggles at his confession and so did the audience, loving the prospect of a real life romance that might be happening behind the camera. You and Ace seemed like the ideal couple after all. Both being highly attractive, talented and having some unexplainable connection.

The perfect pair.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve had any guest be so honest with their feelings toward their co-star!Say, Mr. Lee, you’re not one known to form a close bond to your fellow actors but there’s an obvious exception here.” She pried, all giddy. If she managed to get a juicy reply, her show would definitely make the top from there. “Does this mean miss (Y/n) is someone very special?”

News on your relationship would spread and be the topic of magazines and conversations. Everyone were invested in it, even though it wasn’t officially confirmed that you and Ace were a thing.

Your body tensed at the question. You didn’t want people to think you were dating for real, as if it were confirmed. That would cause a bunch of trouble you had no interest in handling. All those people were fooled.

Tough you didn’t wish to call your fans and the general public idiots, it’s exactly what they were when it came to him. They had no idea of what he was really like. Sure they knew he could be taken as a bit of an oddball, not the person to gladly socialise like other celebrities.

But only those who had worked closely with him knew the extent of his troubling personality. Picky, selfish, entitled and rude towards everyone; those were the prominent qualities. You couldn’t count on the times you’d been forced to save some poor employee from his clutches.

Only after noticing your presence did he switch up his act and turn into a completely different person. Front of you he’d act sweetly, if you hadn’t caught him being horrible to others you wouldn’t have believed he was capable of such things.

In all honesty, it was somewhat disturbing how he was able to turn the switch so quickly. That’s the prodigy actors, you supposed.

You sent Ace a firm look, warning him not to do something he’ll regret. AKA, lying and saying you were together. And what does he do? He had the audacity to freaking smirk. You nearly scream in your seat. What an ass!

“Yes, she is indeed very special to me.” Ace said as he sent you a meaningful gaze.

By now you were ready to slap him. It had been hard enough to keep more rumours about the two at bay than the already existing ones, there was no need for this shit. Angrily, you kicked his leg. Which no one saw because the angle worked in your favour. Ace hissed in response.

And instead of getting mad like the normal human being, he said with a sly grin, “Actually, do you want to know another favourite scene of mine?”

The hostess perked up at this, “Yes, certainly!”

“The one where I get the privilege of proposing to (Y/n). It was wonderful, just wishing she’d accept my real one.”

Silence. Then an uproar.

“Does this imply the rumours are true? And have you gone so far you’re thinking of marriage?”

“No, no!” You instantly deny, “He’s not serious, he loves to joke around sometimes, haha. Isn’t that right?” You regard Ace who sits calmly in his position, not caring to say a word.

‘He’s getting off from this, isn’t he!’

“Oh don’t be shy miss (Y/n)! It’s been obvious since a long time ago. You’re made for each other!”

“No. We’re not! We’re really not. There’s nothing more between us than friendship. ”

———-

‘Ugh. Why did he have to do that?’ You complained to yourself after the show was over.

As you stumbled around in the corridors, the person who caused your irritated state popped up.

“Just the person I wanted to see.” You spat at him.

“It’s good to see you too, love. Since the wrap-up of the movie I haven’t had the chance to see you for so long. It’s been very lonely.” Ace approached you and tried to caress your cheek, you stepped away.

“What the hell did you do that for? Don’t go around spouting shit that isn’t true.”

“I can assure you, my love for you is very true. There isn’t anything more genuine than that.” He pleaded.

“Just stop!” You pushed him away, “I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m done with you! No more movies together. We’ll never see each other again, okay!”

The moment you started leaving, a voice sounded behind you. In a confident tone your now nemesis asserted, “We’ll see about that, dear.”

—————————

[wildemaven]

you, me & john mcclane | dave york

→ pairing: dave york x f!reader

→ word count: 4342

→ content warning: 18+ blog; friends/idiots to lovers, mentions of food and alcohol consumption, blind dates, mentions of bad dating history, miscommunication, soft dave, carol and dave are divorced but rockstar co-parents, fluff, pining, reader is wearing a dress, no descriptive features of reader, die hard is a Christmas movie, equalizer 2 au, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything

→ notes: im really hoping this reads well because i struggled getting it finished. words became rough to work with. part of the holi-dave universe, but can be read as a holiday one shot too. big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me ramble about these two!!! somewhat beta'd, but not entirely.

→ masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

5 minutes late. Not that you’re keeping track. Although, it’s hard not to when the hostess keeps checking in to see if your date has arrived because they can’t hold your table all night, as you wait in the front lobby of the restaurant. Actively trying your best to convince her your date should be arriving any minute— nearing 10 minutes late now. 

You want to be annoyed. You want to call it a night, order your meal to-go, make the trek back home so you can slip back into something less revealing with more layers to fight off the almost freezing temperatures that you hadn’t accounted for when you got dressed earlier. Then once you’ve cocooned yourself in a blanket on the couch, you’ll call your friend and laugh at what a horrible matchmaker she is. 

Blind dates have never been your thing. Sure, you have heard plenty of success stories from friends and family about meeting their partners on a blind date, falling in love and getting that happily ever after kind of romance that you’ve always wanted. But that's never been the case for you. You weren’t convinced blind dating would ever produce any sort of cosmic connection like you’ve always heard about. You could barely get a second date from the ones you’ve been on. 

You decide to stay, give this whole thing a chance and see what happens— that is if he ever shows up. 

The frigid air billows in at the opening of the restaurant door. The cold biting at the exposed skin your dress isn’t covering, as you curl into yourself,  turning away to shield your body from the air that’s spilling through the entranceway. 

You scan the restaurant for what seems like the hundredth time now. All the couples and families seated comfortably as they enjoyed their warm meals. Probably discussing their upcoming holiday plans and their excitement for the new year ahead. 

Glancing down at your phone, it’s approaching 15 minutes late now. Sadness begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. Clearly this date isn’t happening tonight and it’s time to call it like it is, you got stood up— also not a first for you. You tuck your phone back into your purse and make your way over to let the hostess know that she can give your table away. 

“Oh my gosh! Dave?” Recognizing a familiar face standing next to the ‘wait to be seat sign’.  

“Hey— Hey! How are you?” He says with a smile, instantly moving in to give you a warm friendly hug. His cologne, all masculine and refreshing, wafts about as you lean into him— you envy whoever gets to revel in it tonight.  

“I’m good, thanks.” You tell him, as you step out of the way of the couple who just walked in to check in for their reservation. “What are you doing all the way over on this side of town? You picking up dinner for you and the girls? They would love their chicken tenders, super crispy. Molly would love the garlic aoli, it’s really good.”

“Uh, yeah— I mean no, sorry. The girls are with Carol tonight. Things ran late at the office and I’m supposed to be meeting someone for dinner.” He doesn’t mean to be rude, his attention focused on glancing at the seated guests. 

“Oh! Same. Except I’m not the one running late, my date is.” You glance back over your shoulder to the restaurant door, still no sign of your date. 

“Oh yeah? Maybe he’ll have a good excuse when he shows up.” Dave says, giving the restaurant one last look before setting back against the wall to give you his full attention. 

“I hope so, I’m starting to get hungry. Do you know what they look like? Maybe they’re somewhere else in the restaurant? I think there’s a back room through those doors.” You point towards the back of the restaurant. You’re in no rush to leave and start your sulking, so you might as well help a friend out. 

“No. It’s a blind date. Literally don’t know a single thing about them. Was just told to be here at 5pm.” The opening of the front door grabs his attention, another well dressed couple enters. He breathes out a sigh, head falling back against the wall, wishing he was anywhere else but here waiting to have dinner and forced conversation with a stranger. 

“Then how are you going to know if they’re here or not?” You laugh, situating yourself next to Dave on the wall. 

“The dress. That was the only thing I told to look out for— that she would be wearing a brown dress.” He says casually as he checks the watch on his left hand. 

A brown dress should be easy enough to spot. Taking a look around to see if you might have better luck spotting his brown-dress-wearing date. It’s nothing but bold reds, soft whites and classic black scattered through the room of guests— no brown dress in sight.

When the hostess glances over to you with her annoyed look, you decide to call it a night. Straightening up off the wall, you prepare to bid Dave a goodbye and make your way home to see what can be done to save the rest of your evening. You adjust your purse strap on your shoulder and start pulling at where the silky fabric of your dress had ridden up. Smoothing over the wrinkles to make sure it’s laying right. You freeze the second your brain registers exactly you’re wearing tonight. 

You look up to where Dave is still standing, focused on the ground, hands folded together in front of him. Suddenly becoming keenly aware of every detail about him. Ones that you hadn’t bothered to notice or pay attention to when you said hello only minutes ago. 

“Dave… you’re wearing a gray t-shirt and leather jacket.” Your voice barely above a whisper as you try to convey the realization that you’re starting to come to. 

“Yeah. Carol told me to wear it. Said it made me look less CIA or whatever.” He pulls open the  jacket front, revealing more of his shirt underneath, very much gray and definitely less CIA. He lets the jacket fall back into place, checking his watch for the second time. 

“Dave…” Attempting to get his attention again. Your eyes widen once all the dots have been fully connected. 

“Yeah?” Dave looks up from his watch, taking in your shocked expression.  

“Dave, I’m wearing the brown dress Carol picked out for me— I’m your date, Dave.” His eyes trail down your body— brown silk dress. The same brown silk dress that Carol said his date would be wearing when he arrived at the restaurant tonight. 

“Carol set us up?” You both say in unison. 

Staring at each other, you’re both completely dumbfounded at the thought of being set up. 

*

You met Carol by chance one morning 3 years ago at a local coffee shop you stop in everyday before work. It was unusually busy in the small coffee shop, which led to your orders being mixed up.

A 10 minute chat while you both waited for the kind baristas to remake your drinks quickly turned into a budding friendship between you. Purposefully arriving for coffee in the mornings so you could catch up on the latest news and tv shows you both loved before jetting off to work. 

Before you knew it you were meeting up for dinner  and drinks regularly, booking girls trips and attending concerts during the summer, but your favorite was joining Carol and her girls for movies and pampering.  

When you met Carol, she had already been divorced for almost 3 years. You admired how well she was juggling life and work as a single mom. She attributed it to having a great co-parenting relationship with her ex-husband. 

It was months later when Dave and you had officially met at a summer barbecue Carol and him were throwing for the girls and their friends. Inviting all the families to come enjoy the warm weather and grilled food. Carol had invited, forced, you come and hang out for a few hours. She insisted Molly and Alice had begged for you to be there, learning early on it was hard to tell either of them no. 

Carol had warned you Dave was quiet. Reserved felt like a better description. Because with you, he was anything but quiet. 

After helping Carol set out food and drinks, both of you retreated to a quiet spot on the porch as the chaos of tiny screaming girls took over the backyard. A comfortable silence between you once hello’s and brief pleasantries were shared.

Dave liked that about you, not forcing a conversation with someone just because you were in close proximity. He found that annoying with Carol’s other friends, always wanting to talk to him and never picking up on his lack of interest. He found you both had a similar aversion to groups of people you didn’t know. Watching the barbecue activities unfold from a distance and only making yourselves known when needed. 

Silence was soon exchanged for friendly banter and bouts of laughter. The space between you had become nonexistent as you both shared bits of your lives. Walls began to fall. A sudden eagerness to know more about the worlds you both existed in. A full fledged friendship formed in a matter of hours. 

From that day on, you were invited to all gatherings whether it took place at Carol’s or Dave’s homes. It became a song and dance of sorts. Always seeking each other out once things were in order. Finding a quiet place on the sidelines to avoid unwanted attention and small talk with literally everyone else. 

Unbeknownst to Dave and you, Carol had been keeping tabs on you both over the years. She wasn’t blind to the bond that had quickly developed between you two. The small touches to Dave’s arm when you were deep in conversation. When you would lose yourself in laughter and lean into him when he said something funny. The way Dave’s hand settled against your lower back when he introduced you to someone you hadn’t met before. Carol’s favorite was how, aside from her and the girls, you were able to make him genuinely smile like no one had done in a long time. 

It was after a recent failed date you had gone on, mentioning how hard it was to find someone decent enough to be in a relationship with, that Carol decided to take matters into her own hands. Conjuring up a plan to set you, her closest friend, and Dave, her ex-husband. A little nudge both of you seemed to need. 

*

“Look, Dave. I completely understand if you’re not into it and want to leave. No hard feelings at all. But we’re already here and have a table waiting for us to enjoy ourselves— which I’m sure the hostess would love for us to either sit at sooner than later. So, maybe we just do that. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” You find it hard to read his blank expression, hoping it’s just pure shock and not that he is repulsed by the fact that he was set up with you. 

Are you even his type? Could he see something beyond just a friendship with you? Not things you had ever really worried about until just now. The thought of being rejected by not just someone, but by Dave had you distracted with embarrassment and worry. 

A smile begins to form on his face, the tension he’d been wearing when he first arrived no longer evident now that he won’t be having dinner with just anyone, but with you— something the two of you have never done alone before tonight. 

“I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be, now. Let’s go enjoy ourselves.” Sensing your internal panic he attempts to calm your nerves, reassuring you that he fully wants to be here. He takes a step closer to you, his hands curled around your shoulders, thumbs gently sweeping in over your bare skin in a back and forth motion. Worry melting from your face instantly. 

“Okay.” Your head tilts to the side as you smile sweetly at him, taking in the softness in his eyes. There’s a part of you that’s sure nothing will come of this evening, just two friends merely entertaining the fact that they were set up. But you’d be lying if you said there wasn't a small part of you that bears hope for the possibility of something flourishing from this evening. Whichever outcome, you’re relieved it is Dave. 

It’s not long until you’re seated at a small table for two, draped in white soft linens. The overhead lights set to a low muted level, allowing the tabletop candles to elevate the restaurant's evening ambiance. A musician sits at a small piano in the corner, playing a rendition of some holiday song, its nostalgic tune mingling with the hushed voices conversing about. 

Drinks and warm appetizers placed among the candles, festive florals and white porcelain tableware. Your meals were discussed and deliberated then placed with the waiter, leaving you both alone in a hushed nervous state. Neither of you quite sure what to say, unsure whether or not you address the elephant in the room— Carol’s secretive matchmaking tactics. 

“How are the girls?” You decide to stick to the safety of topics you both know. Hoping the ease of familiarity will lead to a more relaxed dialogue as the night passes. 

“Good. They’re good.” He says, in a very to the point Dave response. The waiter breaks the stagnant bubble surrounding you to refill his water, Dave giving a nod of gratitude before directing his attention back to you. 

“That’s good.” You quietly release a shaky breath.  

“How’s work?” Dave asks after taking a sip from his glass of aged whiskey. He sets it back on the table, before relaxing back into the chair. His arm propped up by the armrest, chin resting between his thumb and forefinger and his eyes focused on you. 

You briefly fixate on the flickering light that dances across his ambered irises, the glow of the candle’s flame reflecting in his eyes. A  golden brilliance that’s so vividly captivating, you can’t help but feel the warmth that gleams from them— how have you never noticed their allurement before? 

“Good. Great, actually. I got that promotion I was telling you about last month.” You don’t miss the way he immediately smiles at your answer. 

“I knew you would get it. Congrats!” Dave is proud of you. 

He had hoped he hadn’t overstepped when he encouraged you to apply for the position. Agonizing over it with him during a potluck dinner Carol had put together a month ago. You weren’t so convinced you had it in you, but Dave knew otherwise. He knew how hard it had been for you, working tirelessly to prove your worth in a male dominated field. But he also knew how well you held your own against the pressure of being scrutinized doing your job just because you were female. You just needed a little encouragement to make it happen, and Dave was more than happy to give it to you. 

“Thank you.” You say gratefully. He raises his glass up to you, grabbing for your white wine,  your glass meets his in a clinking celebration. 

A rich note strikes from the piano. The warm cadence of a new song catches your attention, drawing you to look over at where the musician's hands move effortlessly over the keys. After a few chorus plays through the second half, you redirect your attention back to the table. Your heart flutters with vibrancy at the way Dave is already looking at you. A reverent gaze that gives you the idea that his eyes have been drawn to you the entire time.

“What?” You ask. Your playful confusion has Dave chuckling, his fingers rub steadily over his bottom lip. 

“Nothing. Just—“ Dave knows the moment he says it, there’s no turning back. He’s been silently gauging your demeanor. Noting how you fiddle with the silverware when you’re talking. Or the way you look at him with a subdued intensity, not allowing yourself to truly express your feelings to him— or for him. 

With a deep breath and burning confidence, Dave’s willing to take a leap of faith to break the nervous tension that is strung tightly between you both.

“Just what?” Encouraging him to continue. Your fingers twisting your napkin in your lap, each revolution pulling it tighter and tighter in your grip. 

“Just admiring how beautiful you look right now. Something I never fully allowed myself to do before this evening.” He sees the way you react to his words. Relief or a validation of your own feelings. 

“How come?” You have a feeling you already know, but you want to hear him say it. 

“You’re Carol’s friend. I didn’t want to ever make you uncomfortable.” 

“You’ve never made me feel anything but comfortable, Dave.” It’s the truth. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so comfortable or safe with anyone. “But I get what you mean. With you being Carol’s ex-husband and that unspoken understanding of respecting her boundaries as her friend. I guess I’ve always been happy with being just your friend, too. But clearly she has a very strong opinion about us though.” 

You both laugh, knowing how determined Carol gets when she has a feeling about something. 

You both take a moment. No words needed or spoken. Neither of you are willing to wipe the absurd smiles off of your faces, while you stare at each other with an unbridled sense of fondness. The rest of dinner carries on with a better sense of purpose and understanding between you both. Endless conversation exchanged well into dessert. An eagerness to know more about each other before the evening’s end. 

*

It’s a velvety darkness that welcomes you the moment you both step out onto the sidewalk outside the restaurant. White tuffs of clouds drift through the sky, shrouding the moon and stars' usual intense glow for diffused lambency. 

The town’s streets are filled with an abundance of Christmas lights hung from store fronts and wrapped around tree bases, providing a perfect backdrop for an after dinner stroll. 

“Do you want to take a walk? Look at the lights before we call it a night?” Not really wanting to rush home any time soon, hoping to rack up more time with Dave as possible. 

“Sure. Here, take my jacket though, you’re gonna freeze out here.” He could tell you were trying to bravely endure the cold air nipping at your bare skin, but the goosebumps covering your arms and the slight shivering would have you freezing in no time. 

He doesn’t really give you an option, draping the leather jacket over your shoulders. The warmth is welcomed as you pull it tightly against you, grateful the moment a brisk breeze picks up and sweeps through the air. 

“Thank you.” You say as you both begin to walk in step together down the festively lit sidewalk. 

“Of course. Any time.” Dave says with a soft smile. His hands tucked securely into his jeans as he does his best to keep the chilly air at bay. 

A group of carolers offer a special serenade of Christmas classics, Dave and you both stopping to enjoy the merriment their harmonies add to the atmosphere. Dave tosses a few generous bills into their tip jar before you both continue your stroll. 

“What are your plans for Christmas?” You know him and Carol have a great system for the girls, always making sure they both get equal time with them. 

“I get to have the girls Christmas Eve this year. Well open gifts Christmas morning and do our tradition of pancakes for breakfast before Carol picks them up.” You love that he has a special tradition with the girls, there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. 

“Carol said they’re asking for a dog this year?” Remembering how Carol had mentioned the girls had been begging for a dog for the better part of the year. So it was no surprise when you had heard they were forgoing Barbie’s and clothes in hopes to add a new furry companion to the family. 

“Yeah. They sat us down last week with a full blown presentation on why they think we should get them one.” 

“What was one of their reasons?” Knowing full well Molly and Alice probably had a decent list of all the reasons for getting one. 

“I think the top reason was that a dog would make me less grumpy.” His brows pinch together with his signature grumpy expression, the reason seemingly obvious at this moment. 

“Oh my god, Dave! They deserve a dog just for their efforts alone!” You bite back a snicker, loving how the girls didn’t hold back one bit. Although, you do find his grumpy expressions cute and charming. 

“Go on, laugh it up.” He shakes his head at your teasing. “What about you? Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Dave asks. His shoulder lightly bumps against you as you continue to walk in a close proximity to him. 

“If you call feasting on a rotisserie chicken straight out of the container while rewatching Die Hard an unhealthy amount of times, plans— then yes, I have plans.” You try to say with a straight face, but fall into a fit of laughter when you see the empathetic look on Dave’s face. “I’m kidding, mostly. I usually spend Christmas with my parents, but they’re out of town this year. So it’s just me— and John McClane.” 

“Hey.” Dave grabs your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. His eyes flitting over your face, his thumb brushing over the top of your hand he’s still holding. “Why don’t you come over once Carol gets the girls. I can make dinner and we watch Die Hard a healthy amount of times together, if you want?”

There’s a warmth that radiates through you at his offer. You feel giddy at the thought of spending Christmas, alone, with Dave. You don’t know quite yet what this thing that’s blooming between you is, but you trust that Dave will catch you— especially with how you’re thoroughly falling for him. 

“I’d love that— oh shit! Dave, come here!” Your hand now wrapped around his as you try to pull him from where he’s standing. His stubborn body is rooted in place, not moving as you continue to hold him while looking at something overhead that caught your attention. 

Dave catches your line of sight. Looking up to see a bundle of mistletoe hanging from the shop sight you both were standing under. He looks back to you, panic stricken by the sight of the green foliage dangling above. He steps closer to you, his lopsided grin slowly becoming a more pronounced smile. 

“Dave, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just silly mistletoe.” 

“Isn’t there some sort of thing about bad luck if we don’t?” He slowly starts to lean in towards you, his eyes searching for any kind of hesitation in yours. 

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” You murmur. Your stomach flips with anticipation. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” 

His lips are softer than you could ever have imagined. For even the briefest of kisses, it feels electric and warm. 

Dave pulls back slightly, his gaze oscillating between your lips and your eyes, taking in the blissed out look you have. Silent confirmation that you were craving it as much as he was. 

It’s dizzying passion when Dave’s lips crash into yours. One of his hands cradles the back of your head as the other snakes around your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Taking advantage of the way your mouth opens for him, his tongue moving over yours with a fiery fierceness. 

It feels right and perfect as you continue to revel in the way he deepens the kiss with each passing breath. His jacket falling from your shoulders to the ground as your hands clutch firmly at the front of Dave’s t-shirt. Your mind is a fuzzy mess of thoughts, swirling about, all focused on Dave and this monumental release. 

A whine escapes when Dave pulls away for the second time. His forehead resting on yours. Mouths hanging open, vapor puffs hitting the cold air as you both try to catch your breath. 

“Dave York. Great conversationalist, devoted father, devastatingly handsome and exceptional kisser— checks all my boxes.” You purr at him. 

“Hmm. The first two seem like a given. Handsome?” Asks as he continues to hold you close to him. 

“Mmhmm.”

“And what was it? Exceptional kisser?” Cradling the side of your face, recalling exactly how you described the kiss. 

“No complaints from me. At all.” Your teeth catching your bottom lip, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his soft chestnut hair. 

“Not a single one?” His nose gently nudges against yours. 

“Well— maybe one. My only complaint would be if you never kissed me again.” You shake your head. The thought of never feeling his lips against yours again would be soul crushing. 

“I guess it’s a good thing I look forward to doing it again.” He assures you. 

“That so?” 

His fingers lightly grip your chin, bringing your lips closer to his. This time the kiss is slower, gentle, still conveying just as much affection and intentness as before. 

“I definitely could get used to more of that.” You say breathlessly. 

“Yeah? How about we take things slow? You promise me another date. I’ll promise to keep kissing you— exceptionally well.” A promise he’s more than willing to keep. 

“I like the sound of that.” Pulling him back for another kiss. 

[truerhearts]

❁ geto x fem!reader fluff

❁ sfw (but has spicy moments)

❁ you wake up in getos bed after an unplanned night of drinking

ᵉᵉᵏ

Suguru stirred as the sunlight crept gently through the blinds of his window. He slowly opened his eyes, enjoying the warmth and peace he felt on this quiet sunday morning. It took him a few moments to remember what he did the night before, and realize that he was not alone in his bed.

He rolled onto his side towards the guest in his bed. She slept soundly beside him, her chest rising and falling slowly and rhythmically, her hair a mess on his pillow.

He gazed at her lovingly, his lips tugging into a soft smile.

He recalled yesterdays endeavours; well, tried to at least. He tried to piece together as much has he could. He invited her over for dinner and a movie, and they ended up getting fairly intoxicated. Not on purpose of course. One thing just led to another and eventually the bottle of wine was gone. Then it spiralled from there. After a few harder drinks, (just some vodka and orange juice, it’s all Suguru had) they began to feel quite adventurous.

In their drunken state, they decided to go out on the town, experience night life together. The cabbed to a local lounge, had a few more drinks there, petted each other (rather heavily) in public, then went home.

Suguru tried to recall the events that occurred after they returned to his apartment.

Did they…?

No… he would have remembered. Plus they still hadn’t had sex together yet. He knew that even if he was intoxicated he would still have the sense to wait until they were both sober. To him, it felt unfitting to be intimate for the first time with someone you care so much about while intoxicated. And he did care for her quite a lot. A lot more than he had for most other people in the past.

There was something different about her. Maybe it was the way she was always so excited to see him, or how she would always brighten his day whenever he was down, or how they could spend hours together and he didn’t feel bored or tired afterwards. In fact, he dreaded their partings. He began to make a habit of always having plans ready so they could see each other again. Regardless of the reason, he was definitely in love with her, in every sense of the word.

He pondered a bit more concluded that they got home and ended up passing out in bed together, nothing more nothing less.

He slowly and quietly rose from his bed, careful not to wake her. He walked over to the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror, throwing his hair up into a bun and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He then made his way to the kitchen sifting through the fridge to find ingredients for breakfast, and putting the kettle on for some tea.

She awoke not long after him, the smell something cooking igniting her senses. She blinked a few times, taking a few moments to realize she wasn’t in her own bed. She tried to familiarize herself, eyes widening when she realized she was in Suguru’s bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, and she was having trouble remembering last nights events.

Her heart lurched. She barely remembered anything. She tried to recount the night as best she could but it got pretty hazy after they returned to Suguru’s place.

She wondered if they had done anything. She looked for any signs: a condom wrapper? Perhaps one wasn’t used, which would bring on a host of other issues.

Any soreness? No… she felt fine. She sighed deeply trying to calm the slight anxiety that flourished through her chest.

She swung her legs out and pulled the covers off, leaving the warm bed in search of Suguru. Hopefully he would have a better idea of what happened.

She made her way down the hall and turned into his kitchen when she saw him preparing breakfast for the two of them.

He instinctually looked up and over his shoulder, his smile widening when he saw her standing in the doorway. He loved the way his t-shirt looked on her.

“Good morning, (y/n)” he greeted in a honeyed tone, his voice still a bit deep from sleep.

“Good morning,” she sighed back, shuffling over to him and hugging him from behind while he stirred eggs in a pan. She rested her head on his back, just between his shoulder blades, her arms wrapped around his strong torso. She was trying to remain calm but her mind was running a million miles a second.

He smiled as she hugged him. “I made you some tea. Are you feeling alright this morning?”

“Kinda, my head hurts a bit,” she said into his back.

“Something to eat should help.” He turned off the heat and set the pan of eggs off to the side.

He turned around and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She listened to his heartbeat in his chest, strong and steady. The anxiety was leaving.

“Did you have fun last night?” She asked.

“I had an amazing time, one of the best nights i’ve had in a while.”

“Good, i did too.” she smiled up at him. He brushed the stray strands of hair from her face.

Her smile slowly faded when she had the urge to ask the question. “Did we…?”

He knew immediately what she meant. He shook his head and let out a light laugh. “No, no we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay.” she sighed in relief, then quickly backtracked. “Not that I wouldn’t want to! I just… want it to be special you know! Because you mean a lot to me…”

“(y/n), don’t worry, I know what you mean.” he paused her running thoughts with a kiss, having to over her to plant his lips on hers. They parted after a moment “I feel the same.”

She opened her mouth slightly, debating on her choice of words. “Why haven’t we yet?” she finally asked, a light blush touching her cheeks. His eyebrows lifted slightly, as it was a question he wasn’t expecting from her.

“I wanted to make sure the timing was right.” He pulled her in a little closer, voice getting a little lower. “But I have been thinking about it a lot lately.” he admitted, still managing to remain cool. Her heart skipped a beat at his words.

They were both silent for a while, and she felt the need to fill the space. “What about now?” She asked rather innocently, gazing up at him with doe-like eyes. She was impressed by the sudden confidence that overcame her.

He smirked. “Right now? What about tea and breakfast?”

She said nothing and shrugged slightly.

Suddenly, he lifted her up and placed her on the counter.

He put his hands down on either side of her and leaned in, his face just inches from hers. “Everything is going to get cold.” he murmured in a tone that made her heart flutter. He looked so handsome, his dark eyes gazing into hers, the strands of hair that never made it into his bun gently framed his face, his broad, sculpted shoulders that were hidden under his white t shirt. She was mesmerized.

He could tell she couldn’t care less about the food at the moment and he leaned in closer, placing his lips on hers again. The kiss was unlike any the two of them had shared in the past. A tantalizing mix of tenderness and urgency that left her breathless.

His hands moved from the counter to her body. One moved to grip her thigh and the other was at the small of her back. He pulled her closer, and she let herself surrender to him, his touch burning through her clothes. She was now on the edge of the counter, her legs wrapped around him tightly.

Desire quickly tore through him as he felt the sensation of her body against his. She felt so delicate under his touch, and that drove him even more. He left her lips to pepper kisses on her jaw and down to her neck, whispering in her ear. “Are you ready?”

“I… I’ve never done this before.” She admitted. He pulled away from her neck and looked down at her. Her face was flushed, giving him a worried look.

He had no idea. He always just assumed… “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“We’ll go slow.” He gazed into her eyes, reassuring her with just a simple look. “I want you to tell me what you like.” He said, leaning back in again. “You can even show me if you want.” The mixture of his words and the feeling of his lips on her neck again made her heart skip beats and caused butterflies erupt in her stomach. He made his way to her lips once more, with just as much fervour and passion as before. Before she knew it, he had lifted her off the counter and whisked her away to his bedroom.

Breakfast would have to wait till later…

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Baby-Sitting Duty

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: “You look your cutest like this” and Roy.

Roy Kent x Reader

0.6k words

Warnings: Language, fluff, Phoebe in a little food coma

This Saturday night was supposed to be a date night. That is, until Roy’s sister called, begging her brother to take Phoebe for the night. Not that much begging was necessary; he’d never say no to time with his niece. His apologies and promise to make it up to you were also wholly unnecessary. You adored Phoebe, and honestly, you relished every opportunity to see Roy with his precious little niece.

And so there the three of you were, spending Saturday night with a table full of unhealthy snacks, bowls of ice cream on the kitchen counter, and the latest Disney movie on the television. Phoebe was long gone, having eaten far too much candy, despite your hisses to Roy to tell her to slow down. Your boyfriend had playfully rolled his eyes at your suggestion, mumbling something along the lines of, “She’ll be fine. If not, she’ll learn her limits.” You rolled your eyes back and told him that this was a child with sweets, not a twenty-year-old with alcohol.

Sure enough, that little girl had gorged herself into a candy coma, barely making it to the second musical number of the cartoon that still lit up the big screen. She was nestled between the two of you, under Roy’s arm, eyes closed and soft snores coming from her sugar-coated mouth. You had tugged a blanket over her, earning a soft look from Roy.

He loved seeing you with Pheebs. You took on the role of ‘aunt’ in stride, and you did it well. You knew all of her likes and dislikes, kept up with the latest classroom drama, took her side when she demanded Roy be the princess in Princess and the Dragon, and attended every single one of her football games. It warmed his often too-cold heart and always had him wondering about the right time to pull his grandmother’s wedding ring out of his nightstand.

Someday, he thought, flashing you a small smile over the top of Phoebe’s head. Someday.

You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own, shaking your head as you watched his fingers absently play with his niece’s blonde hair.

“What?” he whispered, checking to make sure he wasn’t too loud for Phoebe.

You shrugged, turning your body to face him properly. “I just like seeing you like this,” you answered quietly. “Doting on Phoebe, cuddling with her. You look your cutest like this.”

Roy put on his best scowl, hardening his face playfully. “’m not fucking cute,” he growled.

“Oh yes you are,” you teased as you threw a stray piece of popcorn at his nose. “Roy Kent is the cutest man in the world,” you declared. “And I love him for that.”

His face softened, your words making it hard to keep up his charade. “And I love you for not fucking telling anyone how cute I am,” he conceded. He glanced down at his little niece. “Her neck’s gonna get all stiff if I leave her like this,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna go tuck her in.”

You shook your head and stood. “I’ve got her,” you assured him. With that, you bent down and scooped the girl into your arms, offering loving shushes as she stirred. “Be right back.” As you walked down the hall to the guest room that was really Phoebe’s room, he could hear you murmuring to her, “I know, darling. I’ll bring you something for your tummy in a moment, alright?”

Again, Roy felt his heart soften. You took such good care of Phoebe. Of him. Of the team whenever you were with them. You were loving and kind and gentle with everyone. He loved that about you. Fuck, he loved everything about you.

He frowned for a brief moment before rising to his feet and tiptoeing to his bedroom.

He just needed to grab one thing from his nightstand before you came back into the living room.

[fandomnerd9602]

Proposal

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

For @lifespectator

Things were finally slowing down for the Avengers, Earth finally had a little bit of peace. Tony had retired, Steve went back in time. But for Wanda, there was still one thing that alluded her.

Wanda always wanted a family. It always alluded her. She had yet to truly fall in love. No real dates or engagements. But yet she always had you, her best friend. You were her support on most field missions.

The two of you hung out after missions. Little lunch hangouts, times at the movies, the record shops. Wanda always felt normal with you. Honestly it surprised her that you didn’t have anyone in your life yet.

“Surely you could find yourself a girlfriend” Wanda found herself laughing one night.

“Hey if I’m not too busy saving the world, I’m saving you” you respond with a smile.

Wanda always looked forward to hanging out with her best friend. You were there for her thru every heartache and painful memory.

But now things were changing. The Avengers were coming to an end. The world was safe and Thanos was gone. Tony had settled down. Steve went back in time to be with Peggy. And all Wanda could think about was her next step.

“You are you don’t wished to be trained?” Wong asks Wanda as she packs up her things.

“I-I think it’s time I retire,” Wanda states, “I-I want to be a mother. I want a home in the suburbs and…I can’t get that as an Avenger”

“Motherhood” Wong smirks, “some would say it’s more dangerous than being a superhero”

“The hardest part is trying find a donor. Someone to be the father of my kids” Wanda rubs her neck shyly. “I-I did think of someone”

“Who?”

“(Y/N)” she gives a nervous laugh.

“Y/N?” Wong simply summons a portal and leaves, “good luck Maximoff”

Wanda finishes packing her belongings from her room. She couldn’t help but smile. You were her first choice. Her only choice really. Honestly she couldn’t think of anyone else, she didn’t want anyone else.

Wanda’s thoughts were disrupted by the sudden sound of her ringtone. A simple glance to her phone reveals your name on her caller ID.

“Hey Red” you smile from your end of the phone call.

“Hey” Wanda smiles.

“I bought a little house in Westview, a couple miles from the compound” you explain, “I was wondering if you’d come and see it with me”

“Y-yeah” Wanda found herself giggling. A little house hunting with her best friend.

You and Wanda drive to the address, as you told her, a couple miles from the compound in the cozy little town of Westview. It was still trying to recover after the Snap, like all towns were. But it's property costs were low and the value was only rising.

"And here we are" you smile as you pull outside a two story suburban house. It had a classic brick style to it with a white picket fence. Wanda couldn't help but gasp. It was everything she ever dreamed of, like a long forgotten desire.

"You have a great eye" Wanda whispers.

You pull out the key, "Wanna take a look?"

Every step, every moment that Wanda spent in that house. It made her fall in love with it, more and more. Spending each moment with you, how you talked about your dreams for the place, it all made her fall for you more and more too.

Wanda found herself dreaming of the life she could have in this house with you. Your children taking their first steps. Your first Christmas in this house with her.

"I-It's a lot of room for just one person" Wanda remarks as your guided tour came to an end.

"Well I'm gonna need a roommate" you rub the back of your neck, "figured you might be interest?"

Wanda nodded so fiercely, "yes! I'd love to."

Moving day was fast approaching and yet Wanda was still unsure of how to approach you with her little proposal. She never thought it'd be so difficult to ask someone such a question. But even practicing it in the mirror left her tongue tied.

You finished moving all the boxes of your stuff and hers into the house. You gave Wanda the master bedroom, you were more than happy taking the guest room. Wanda glances down the hallway from the master bedroom. There was still two empty rooms. Perfect, in her mind, for two kids.

You rolled out a sleeping bag in your room. "Where's your bed?" Wanda asks

"Still in the mail." you huff, "never had to buy one when I was an Avenger."

"Well mine's already assembled, you can sleep with me" Wanda said nonchalantly, she immediately found herself going beet red. "I-I mean we can share a bed...I-I-"

You laugh, "I got what you mean, Red. Come on downstairs, I got take out ready for us"

You got the fireplace lit and a little TV set up for Wanda. It didn't take her long to locate a network playing the Dick Van Dyke show. You and Wanda spend the better part of the evening talking about old memories at the compound.

"Y/N" Wanda found herself swallowing hard. "I-I think I know what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Alright Red, tell me" you smile at her.

"I want a family." Wanda takes a deep breath, "I want kids. I want a white picket fence. I-I want to be a mother"

"Wow" you reply, "I think you'd be perfect at that"

"Really?"

"Yeah" you smile, 'you'd be an amazing mother. I can see it now, you'd cheer for your kids at every game. You'd be an amazing guide for them. Knowing you, you'd be perfect at that. Any kid would be lucky to have you as a mother. I just hope that I'm there to see it"

Wanda blushes and blurts out, "I want you to be the father of my kids"

"Me?" you find yourself in shock

"I shouldn't have said that," Wanda tries to get up but you take her hand

"You want me to be their father?" you can feel some tears forming in your eyes.

"I-I mean we can go through a fertility clinic" Wanda tries to explain, "but honestly you're so kind and loving and I can't think of anyone else that I'd want to be the father of my kids. I-I love you."

"I've always loved you" you whisper back. "I-I was okay just being your friend. I-I thought that's all you wanted."

Wanda wraps her arms around your neck. Your hands move instinctively to her waist.

"So will you?" Wanda smiles, "please?"

"I want strings" you smile back, "I want to be there for you through it all."

Wanda giggles, "I'll take it. You, me, strings and all" She laughs with pure joy.

You pull her into a kiss. Her breath hitches. It felt so small and yet so perfect too. She kisses you back. First once then twice.

"Y/N?" she asks you in a gentle whisper

"Hmm?"

"Will you take me upstairs?" She wraps her legs around your waist as you hold her tight. Her eyes stare into yours with all the intent in the world.

"Oh? Oh." you figure it out before nodding and carrying her up the stairs and to her room. Wanda giggles the whole way.

Friends become lovers and lovers eventually become parents. The pathway for Wanda to find her family was a long and painful road. Luckily she met you, her best friend. The one who made that little house in Westview feel like a home.