#and then make a fresh start in february | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

siddyyyyyyyy · 1 month

Text

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

←MASTERLIST

475 notes · View notes

jishyucks · 1 month

Text

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

399 notes · View notes

iww-gnv · 8 months

Text

California fast-food workers are forming a unique kind of union

Lizzet Aguilar has worked at a McDonald’s in Los Angeles for 17 years. She’s never once been given a paid day off. She’s never taken a vacation. When her husband or nine-year-old son get sick and need her to care for them—or if she gets sick herself—she has to call out and lose a day’s pay. “Es difícil,” she says: It’s difficult. Her wages are already low. She makes $16.78 per hour. “Estamos luchando día a día. Es difícil vivir en California,” says Aguilar: We live day to day. It’s difficult to live in California. But for many years she was afraid to speak up and join the Fight for 15, a national movement to raise the minimum wage that started with fast-food workers and has since seen 14 states and Washington, D.C., raise their minimum wages to $15 an hour, increasing pay for 26 million workers. Then the pandemic hit and Aguilar’s boss didn’t give workers any hand sanitizer, gloves, or even masks. Six coworkers got COVID-19. “Ese me puso a decir, ‘Basta,’” she recalls: It pushed her to say, Enough. She got involved to protect herself and her family. Now Aguilar will be part of the next evolution in the Fight for 15 movement: She and her coworkers will announce on February 9 that they are forming the California Fast Food Workers Union, which will be part of SEIU. Hundreds of workers from different fast-food companies will gather in Los Angeles to sign union cards. It’s time, Aguilar and her coworkers decided, to become more formal members of a union and pay dues. It’s a fresh start, she says, on the road toward securing bigger gains.

Read the rest here.

#news #labor news #fast food workers #fast food #food service #food and dining #unionize #union strong #fight for 15 #california fast food workers union #california news #california #us news

895 notes · View notes

sooshihu · 5 months

Text

charles leclerc x reader ~ instagram au

prompt: the great looking driver we all know and love creates controversy with his new and surprisingly young girlfriend

warnings: age gap

january 5 2024

yourusername shared a story

yourbestfriend liked your story

user liked your story

charles_leclerc started following you

charles_leclerc liked your story

user liked your story

wagsf1

liked by user, user and others

wagsf1 !charles leclerc has been spotted with an unknown girl outside of a club in monaco!

after this picture was taken he allegedly drove off in his new ferrari with the girl

comments

user she does look like his type that’s for sure

user YALL I FOUND HER SHE LITERALLY JUST TURNED 18 LAST NIGHT

user im sorry WHAT

user mr leclerc going younger and younger i see

user didn’t he like break up with his girlfriend like 3 weeks ago?😭

user our fav walking red flag🥰

user oh to be her…

and 457 more

february 2 2024

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername 💦☀️🌊🤍

comments

yourbestfriend 😍

user @charles_leclerc mr hitting on fresh 18s that you?🥰

user that’s deff charles’ yacht

user my guess is she’s going after his money to pay off those student loans

yourusername how did you know🤭

and 54 more

f1gossip

liked by user, user and others

f1gossip charles leclerc with his supposed new and very young girlfriend😉 let us know your view on this couple!

comments

user still think she’s after the money

user why you all hating we don’t know anything about her yet💀

user fr like calm down😭

user she can’t be mature enough for him she’s just a kid

user he wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t

user i saw her instagram she doesn’t look like the bitch yall make her out to be just saying

and 374 more

april 2 2024

yourusername added a story

charles_leclerc liked your story

charles_leclerc replied to your story:

je t'aime, magnifique❤️ (i love you, gorgeous)

april 25 2024

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc and others

yourusername joy of missing out 🤍 enjoy the little moments you share with only yourself

comments

charles_leclerc 🤍

user it’s over he commented a heart on her post they’re offcial😔

user am i the only one who LOVES her vibe?😍

user deff not! she seems like a very nice and humble person to me i don’t know why she was getting so much hate

user “she’s just 18 blah blah blah” it’s not your relationship leave her alone

yourusername i love you

user the age gap is kinda wild tho

user hair care routine??

may 3 2024

charles_leclerc added a story

user liked your story

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️

yourusername replied to your story: ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername added a story

may 19 2024

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername haters be hating because they don’t wake up next to charles leclerc like i do

comments

user WERE YOU SILENT OR SILENCED DEAR HATERS

charles_leclerc wouldn’t want it any other way🤭

user THE CAPTION SHUT UP I LOVE HER

user do you see his smile? and yall still think she can’t make him happy cause she’s ‘too young’💀

user Something About You - Eyedress, Dent May ~ 0:44

user the amount of things i’d do to wake up next to either of them is concerning

user every book girlie dreaming about their age gap trope

and 487 others

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc she’s gotta pay off those student loans somehow, am i right?

(last pic is me proudly taking all of the pics above)

comments

user charles simping for yn is so real omg

user love how they’re making fun of the gold digger rumours😭

user charles.jpg when?

user i just know it would be full of yn pls

scuderiaferrari after the loans are payed off we suggest buying her a ferrari of her own 👀

user the unseriousness of their hard launch captions are highlights of my day

user she’s living our dream fr

user can’t decide if i wanna be him or her

and 1,592 others

#Spotify #charles leclerc #f1 #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #x reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 #cl16 x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #fem reader #reader insert

941 notes · View notes

yearoftheotpevent · 2 years

Text

Prompt List 2023 - alt text under the cut

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

7K notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 7 months

Text

No Regrets ~ HJS [MATURE WARNING]

CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE

WORD COUNT: 3.9K

GENRE: Mafia AU, fluffy, first meeting, meet cute, fluffy jisung, soft mafia jisung being soft for reader, always there to protect her, bank heist and shes injured in the process, SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, sex in front of the fireplace, oral (female recieving)

PAIRING: Jisung x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, stealing, heists, reader being held at gun point,

Lightening slashed through the darkened sky making you jump a little and scoot closer to Jisung, the rain pounding against the windows of a cafe. Somewhere that had become your refuge from the storm that was growing worse by the second. Jisung glanced over at you, ever since you'd walked into the cafe he'd barely been able to take his eyes off you but he'd been trying. Not once was he able to though, it was like there was some kind of curse drawing him to you.

Years had passed since he'd ever been with a woman and he'd practically sworn off everyone he met, not wanting to get distracted by them but there was just something about you, something so warm and fresh that drew him in.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Jisung questioned, his gaze solely on you as you shivered a little, you felt frozen to your core but Jisung's men had already given you a shirt, a pair of pants and a blazer you didn't want to take anything else from them. That was, you didn't want to be in debt to the man beside you.

All of the stories you'd heard about the man from the underworld but they'd all failed to mention how kind his eyes were or just how sweet he was...toward you at least. It was a strange contrast between what people said he was like and what he was really like, something you hadn't really been expecting until now.

"No...T-Thanks." Your chattering teeth gave you away before Jisung snapped his fingers at his men, who swiftly sprung into action. Moments later, a steaming cup of hot chocolate was in front of you and a dry blanket was wrapped around your shoulders.

"I can start the fireplace if it gets too much," Jisung offered, his chest tightening as he watched you closely, eyeing you up as if he were waiting for you to shiver and give him the chance to jump in and be the hero of your story. Not that Jisung was the hero in anybody's story, he was always the villain.

There was something about you that made him feel at ease, something that made him feel at peace as you sat beside him but there was also a nagging feeling inside of him, one that wanted him to protect you. It happened the second you'd barged into the cafe, shivering and dripping wet onto the floor. It was the reason he'd demanded his men into action before they could kick you out, there was no way he was going to send you out in the freezing weather.

"I hate the storms too," He finally mentioned, whispering so that none of his men around could hear the admission come from his lips. He'd never been one to tell people what scared him, not when it could possibly be used against him but you seemed in need of someone to talk to.

"You do?" Your voice cracked a little as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the tightness in your body loosening ever so slightly as Jisung put you at ease.

"Yeah, ever since I was a little boy they always scared me." He holds his cup in his hands, letting the warm ceramic warm up his cold hands.

"I would never have expected you to be scared of anything." You admit shyly before he beams at you, he liked that you were feeling comfortable around him more than he cared to admit.

"There's a lot you might not know, but I'd be happy to fill you in." Your cheeks warmed at the kindness coming from him and you nodded.

The storm raged on outside but the cafe was suddenly becoming a warm sanctuary amidst the darkness. It was an unlikely friendship growing between you both, a mafia underworld leader and a frightened girl who'd stumbled into the cafe by accident.

"My favourite colour is pink but if anyone ever asks it's black," Jisung smirked at you, making you giggle a little as you sipped on your drink.

"Mine's blue, but the colour of the sky on a really nice summer's day is blue." You admit to him, smiling while you forget the storm completely as you get to know Jisung just that little bit more.

The night had flown by too quickly for either of you and you hated as you saw the sun coming up through the windows.

"We stayed up all night?" You laughed nervously, trying to remember the last time you'd ever stayed up this late and it must have been years ago. The light burnt your eyes as you and Jisung stepped out onto the streets, you were still dressed in his guard's clothes and he couldn't help the jealous twinge he got thinking about it.

"Must have," He chuckles softly looking around for a car for you but there was none in sight except for his own.

"Vinny," He whispered in a low voice to one of his men nearby.

"Make sure she gets home safely." Vinny nodded understanding the unspoken order from his boss,

"Don't worry boss, I got this," Vinny told him as he got into one of the waiting cars and Jisung turned his attention to you. Searching in his pockets and handing you a small piece of paper with his number scrawled on it.

"In case you need anything. Don't hesitate to call." You gently took the piece of paper, staring down at it with a mix of surprise and gratitude flickering across your face. You never would have expected his number after a night of just talking,

"Thanks." You whispered before carefully tucking into your pocket and making your way to the car with Vinny inside.

"I'll be seeing you," Jisung called out, watching you with one last lingering gaze before you disappeared into the city and Jisung couldn't shake the weight of concern sitting on his chest.

He knew the dangers that lurked in the streets, especially to someone as unsuspecting as you. He was glad Vinny was going to drive you home but something still weighed down on him as he thought about you more and more being alone and he would do anything to ensure your safety. Maybe he could hire someone to watch over you all of the time, or would that be going too far?

"Boss, we have a meeting with Dante Moretti in an hour." A voice informed him snapping him from his daydream and he sighed nodding his head, there was no rest for the wicked.

"Can you make sure Vinny stays close to Yn, I want updates on how she's doing." He grumbled as he got into his car, ensuring your safety felt as though he was protecting a piece of his own humanity in the chaos of the world and he was going to do as much as he could to keep you safe.

Someone had been following you and you knew who, he wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was since he was almost 7 feet high and built like he could knock down a brick house with one flick of his wrist. Sighing a little you turned on your heel making Vinny almost crash into you from how abruptly you'd stopped in place.

"Vinny, I'm fine." You told him plainly, staring up at the man who looked as though he'd barely slept a wink in days. Ever since your rendezvous with Jisung a week ago, Vinny had been outside of your apartment and everywhere you went. Part of you thought it was sweet that Jisung had asked him to watch over you but after no contact with Jisung, it was beginning to get annoying.

Maybe he did this to everyone he met and the reason Vinnny was watching you was because Jisung wasn't sure you could be trusted but you'd had enough. You wanted some space and Vinny following you everywhere was drawing attention to you that you didn't need nor want.

"Boss said to watch you." You scoffed a little, if Jisung was that bothered about you being looked after he should have come to check on you himself rather than sending a babysitting,

"Your boss can come and watch me himself, I don't need an armed guard." You gestured to the gun that was on his belt and he glanced at it, it was something all of Jisung's men were issued with.

"But-"

"Go and take a break, I'm going to the bank...okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to me in there. Go get food or something." You pointed to the cafe across the street and he bit down on his lip, disobeying a direct order from Jisung meant he'd probably lose his life.

"I have to go, I have a meeting and if I'm late I'll never get the loan I need." You mumbled, straightening out your outfit and walking in the direction of the large building while Vinny looked at you. He knew you were right and he needed a break and what was five minutes going to do if he went to grab a muffin?

The glass shattered around you as loud popping sounds began to ring out, you ducked a little as you flinched. The man you had been speaking to you dropped to the floor instantly and frowned,

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!" Someone screamed out, your eyes darted in the direction of the voice and your heart began to race. Armed robbers were storming into the bank, their faces covered by clown masks and you cursed yourself for sending Vinny away.

"Everyone be calm and do as we say and no one has to die." The main man called out as he turned to a man reaching for his wife only to shoot him in the head. Panic gripped you as you sank down onto the floor, none of the masked men had been able to see you since you'd been toward the back of the bank. With trembling fingers you began to hit Jisung's number, you'd had him saved ever since your night together and he was the only person you could think of helping you right now.

As you continued the rings Jisung answered and your voice barely came out above a whisper,

"Jisung, please...you have to do something." You held your hand over your mouth trying to calm yourself down, if any of them found you, you'd be dead.

"There are robbers...they're holding us hostage." You whispered frantically. Jisung's blood ran cold as he listened to the desperation in your voice. Without hesitating he sprang into action, issuing orders to his men and racing to the scene.

"I'll be right there baby, just stay hidden," He kept you on the phone as he raced to his car, he needed to make sure you were safe.

"Where's Vinny baby, is he with you?" Your breathing was frantic but you tried your best to focus on Jisung rather than the yelling and shouting that was going on.

"I sent him away, to eat...I-I thought I would be okay," You sniffled a little and Jisung wanted to reach through the phone and comfort you, wipe away the tears he knew that were streaming down your face.

"I'll kick his ass for listening to you," He chuckled trying to make you laugh but your breathing stilled as you heard someone coming toward you. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you held your breath trying to hide further under the table,

"Found you, sweetheart." Someone sneered, his voice dripping with malice as he dragged you out from your hiding spot his grip so tight you knew it was going to leave a bruise.

"Yn?! YN?!" Jisung screamed down the phone, forcing his men to drive faster down the streets toward the bank you were in.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against your temple, you were shoved through the bank toward the front once again.

"Lookey what we have! An example to make of." He smirked as you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding with every beat as you thought about a way to get out of this or a way to drag it out.

"What did we say? Stay calm and no one will get hurt, it seems someone can't listen to rules." The metal of the gun was dragged down your cheek until he placed it underneath your chin, the tears free-falling as you whimpered a little.

Suddenly, amidst the chaos of the other men shuffling money into banks, the sound of sirens pierced through the air, signalling that police were outside. The grip the man had on you faltered for a second, his attention on the threat of the police. Mustering up all your strength and with the surge of adrenaline, you twisted free from his grasp, ducking out of his grasp and making a run for the safety of a desk. The man cursed as he scrambled after you, just as he got close a shadow emerged from nowhere and stared down at him.

"Jisung." You breathed out as he stared down at the man who had grabbed you, his moments were swift as he subdued the robber and put him to the floor aiming a gun at him this time.

"Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" Jisung stared over at you, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him closely and you shook your head.

"I'm fine, just scared." You admitted as he nodded, turning his attention back to the other robbers who were all on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Everyone knew not to fuck with Jisung if they knew what was good for them and Jisung waited for the cops to come in.

"How are you doing?" Jisung asked as he sat beside you in front of the fireplace, after the robbery Jisung had taken you back to his place deciding that he didn't want you to be alone tonight.

"Fine, just like I was fine the other twenty-two times you asked," You said, teasing him a little for how often he'd been asking you the same question since getting there.

"I just want to make sure," He sighed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder more and smiling at you. Your heart began to beat faster as you were cuddled so close to him.

"You're the first person I wanted to call when it happened." You admit, after the events of the day you weren't going to hold back telling him how you felt about him since there was no point, you never knew what could happen.

"Why?" He blushed a little as you watched him closely,

"I like you...a lot, and I wanted to hear from you one last time in case...In case I died-"

"I would never let anything happen to you," He whispered, clutching your hand in his and holding it on his lap.

"No?" You giggled a little as he ran his hand over your cheek and gently rubbed his thumb over your skin,

"No. I should kick Vinny's ass for leaving you." He grumbled, he'd wanted to do it after getting you from the bank but you'd begged him to take you home, not wanting to stay there any longer than you had to.

"I told him to." You reminded him but Jisung scoffed at the thought, the only person Vinny should have been listening to was Jisung and Jisung alone.

"He should only take orders from me." He grumbled a little and you inched closer to him,

"You're cute when you're mad." Your voice came out low and seductive as you gently kissed his jawline.

"Y-Yeah?" He stuttered a little as he felt you closer to him, his heart racing as you began to kiss his jaw again.

"Yeah, and hot when you're being the hero for me." You added before kissing his neck a little, his whole body flaming as his cheeks burnt bright red.

"Yn...Y-You went through something traumatic today, we should probably wait,"

"Why?" You stopped still and looked up at him, his eyes staring down at you, he wanted to, more than anything, but he didn't want to rush you into something.

"I don't want you to do something you'll regret." You smiled warmly at him,

"I promise I won't," You whispered before kissing him softly, his arms wrapping around your waist as the blanket you were wearing dropped from your shoulders.

Jisung carefully laid you down on the floor, kissing down your neck as he pulled the shirt you were wearing off your body.

"I've wanted you for so long," He groans, kissing down your bare chest and sucking on your nipples causing your back to arch off the floor.

"So don't waste any more time," You pleaded with him as he smirked, kissing down your chest until he reached your panty line which he quickly tore off you and threw somewhere in the room.

"I don't let anyone order me around but for you, I'll make an exception." He groans before putting your legs on his shoulders before pushing his face into your cunt. His tongue slowly licked through your folds as you let out a strangled moan of his name.

"J-Jisung," You cry out, your hands pushed into his hair and you ground your hips against his face needing more than what he was giving to you. Jisung didn't miss the hint though as he picked up the pace, eating you out like a man starved as he moaned against your clit sending vibrations up and down your spine.

"F-Fuck! R-Right there," You cry out as he continued to suck on your clit, his fingers pushing into you and sending you closer to the edge. Jisung smirked up at you, your eyes were screwed shut and your head rolled back as you gave into him.

"G-Gonna..Fuck I'm so close," You cried out louder, Jisung curled his fingers to your g-spot, moving his fingers at a brutal pace until you screamed his name out as your first orgasm hits you.

"So loud for me, I love it." He groans as you pull him up and kiss him deeply, not caring if you could taste yourself on his lips but just desperate for him.

"Want you," You grumbled as you quickly stripped him of the suit pants he was wearing and rubbed his cock through his boxers earning a grunt from him.

"I've got an IUD," You whisper to him when you see him searching around for something and he relaxes a little, kissing you deeply as you lay back down on the floor, your legs spread on either side of his hips.

"You sure?"

"Jisung, please," You whined out, spreading your legs further apart as Jisung lined himself up, easing into you at a slow and torturous pace.

"M-More," You begged as you rocked your hips up a little until he was pushed to the hilt, a strangled moan leaving both your throats. Jisung smirked at you as he slowly pulled out of you, only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. He began thrusting into you, harder and faster than before as your hands dragged down his back.

"You're so tight, angel, you close?" He groans out as you clench around him again, moaning out his name as he continues his brutal pace. You'd had sex plenty of times but nothing compared to this, Jisung had you on the edge from just a few thrusts.

"You make me insane for you," He growls out as he continues to fuck into you,

"G-Good, you do the same for me," You whine out, rolling your hips in time to meet his thrust as you feel the familiar tension building inside of you.

"S-Shit, Jisung." You moan out as he grips your hips, his thrusts getting more determined,

"C-Cum for me angel," He groans, as if on his command you came around him, screaming his name out as you rocked your hips riding out your orgasm. Jisung wasn't far behind as he panted into your neck, his hips slowly to a still making you giggle a little.

"Let's go and get cleaned up," He whimpered a little, his hips shaking as you nodded and wriggled beneath him.

The morning sun filtered through the blinds in Jisung's room and he cursed himself for not getting blackout ones like he wanted to. The memories of last night began to filter through his mind leaving him smirking as reached out beside him. He frowned, a pang of unease gripping his chest as he stared at the empty space beside him. Had you regretted the night before?

With a heavy sigh, Jisung rose from the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. Your clothes were still in his room along with your bag and phone which meant you were still around somewhere he just had to find you. He padded down the stairs, an overwhelming sense of gratitude filling him when he saw you standing in the kitchen with your hands on your hips yelling at someone.

"I wanted to cook for him, what's the big deal!?" You cried out at the old lady who had swatted your hands away with a spatula when she found you cooking.

"He only lets me cook for him, it's the safest way." You rolled your eyes, about to tell her who you were when someone wrapped their arms around you.

"Come back to bed, let Sophia make our food so I can fuck your brains out," He whispered in your ear, biting down on your ear as you let out a small moan following him without question.

"So no regrets?" He asked, threading his fingers between yours as he led you back to the stairs.

"No regrets," You smirked kissing him on the cheek and rushing off up the stairs to his room again.

"I hate you," Felix's date said as he stood beside her, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at him looking completely pissed off that she had to be there.

"I hate you more, my little firecracker," He smirked down at her and you cuddled closer to Jisung as you watched the exchange.

"It's strange that's how they express their love," You giggled a little as Jisung took your hand in his, gently kissing the top of it before pulling you into his chest.

"Hmm, think we should uninvite them from the wedding?" Jisung smirked as you slapped his chest softly, hushing him. A charity event wasn't the place to announce your upcoming wedding, you wanted to do it properly and at a dinner with all of them together.

"We'll see you later," Seungmin's date whispered before hugging you and running off toward the stairs with Seungmin.

"They're going to fuck," Jisung laughed softly making you roll your eyes at him.

"They could just be wanting a private moment," You elbowed him in the chest as he chuckled to himself he knew what the couple were up to, since he and you had snuck off at parties to do the same thing plenty of times in the past.

"To fuck." He added as you groaned at him, pulling him to go and dance with you.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

614 notes · View notes

honeytonedhottie · 8 months

Text

masterlist (2024)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪷

law of assumption and manifesting

how i write my scripts

a look into my own manifestation

some manifesting exercises

random success story

beginners guide to manifesting

robotic affirming

law of assumption ins and outs

reprogramming subconscious mind

rampaging with manifesting

valentines day prep challenge (day one)

valentines day prep challenge (day two)

valentines day prep challenge (day three)

valentines day prep challenge (day four)

valentines day prep challenge (day five)

valentines day prep challenge (day six)

valentines day prep challenge (day seven)

honeys tea on self concept (improved)

how i make affirmations tapes + affirmation tape

you know how to manifest

ways to apply the law

for when u think u "failed" at manifesting

reprogramming ur mind activity

building a new life and identity (remake)

what to do when the 3d hasn't aligned

how to deal with self doubt when manifesting

i pledge allegiance

how to manifest faster

dealing with the unfavorable

self care and beauty

for healthier hair

shampoo and conditioner recommendations

long list of self care practices

at home spa day

doll hand-book

maintaining a clean and fresh appearance

"your glowing"

general hygiene secrets and tips

hot girl summer prep

glazed doughnut skin secrets

things that are on my list to buy (beauty binder)

mental well being and healing

the feel better formula

the tea on self love

disconnect and heal

ways to feel better about ur appearance

sustained satisfaction

how to keep going

embracing being alone

for rest and relaxation

the happy pill

self care assessment

how to unwind

shadow work prompts

how to stop being toxic

how to feel enough

honeys girlblogging and that girl-ism

starting a video diary

how to deal with mean girls

ur guide to effortless glamor

little habits to adopt

embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic

the wizard liz mindset analysis

hyper girliness

dear diary

starting ur fitness girlie era

dopamine detox challenge

starting a collection

honeys guide to throwing a slumber party

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - FEBRUARY EDITION

giving urself princess treatment

video dairy entry ideas

cultivating creativity and a deeper sense of self

starting and managing ur blog

how to be rich and luxurious

HONEYS BUSINESS INQUIRIES

a glamorous well being

incorporating luxury

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - MARCH EDITION

productivity and self development

focusing on urself

getting seriously organized

honey's resource bundle

getting it together

a fresh start

trusting and betting on urself

becoming ur own project and self upgrading

reset routine

goal ideas

practicing self discipline

things to do while on a dopamine detox

making an effective planner

the art of conversation (from a professional yapper)

restocking and replenishing

school and studying

school notion tutorial

becoming an academic weapon challenge

studying methods + tips

how to get good grades without excessive studying

academic resources

ways im romanticizing school

pretty and well educated

notes from honey🎀🍰

places to go vision board

notes from honey - note one

notes from honey - note two

things that make my mornings a million times better

#honeytonedhottie⭐️#master list #girl blog #girl blogging #that girl #blog organization

667 notes · View notes

mermaidgirl30 · 5 months

Text

✨New Beginnings✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 1

A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur.

You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.

So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.

After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them.

You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.

You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive.

You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again.

“You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”

You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him.

“Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second.

Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers.

“Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face.

“I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel.

He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good.

He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate.

“Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight.

“Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face.

Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?

“It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.

“Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”

You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?

“You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.

“Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present.

“Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, I really have.”

“That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin.

Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him.

“You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what.

“Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat.

“I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously.

“Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun.

“Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”

He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”

Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly.

“Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”

You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”

He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whisper out.

“Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”

Darlin’. He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest.

You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?

He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand.

You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up.

He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”

“Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows.

“Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”

“Me too.”

You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him.

He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation.

“Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow.

He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”

You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

“Great.”

You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel.

As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward.

“Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet.

“Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new.

You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly.

You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be.

Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response.

“Yeah, it really has…”

Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”

Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”

You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.

“Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”

You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”

He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”

Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”

Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”

And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another.

And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours.

This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it.

When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you.

“Thank you for staying.”

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”

You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him.

Your forever.

Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox

@orcasoul @thundermartini @solllaris @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @vie-is-punk

@hoeruiner @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @amyispxnk @morallyinept @milla-frenchy

@laramc-02 @keylimebeag

#joel miller fan fiction #Joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #no outbreak au #no use of y/n

267 notes · View notes

sofasoap · 4 months

Text

Teddy Bear - 3

Pairing: John Price x F! Reader

Summary: Just as you thought he ghosted you.. he turned up.

Warning: M Theme. Angst talk. Canon, what canon? what happend at end of Mw3 never existed, nor happend.

A/N: I was so blocked for .. oh gosh, seven months. and Thanks to @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world, it suddenly unblocked. This is for you, Aunty Bear.

John Price Masterlist

Masterlist

You look at the man standing in front of your door. Stunned that he appeared at your door step in the middle of night.

“Hi.” Oh how you miss his deep rumbling voice.

Why is he here now?

November. Christmas, New Year. February.

Not a single call or text message from him since October.

You sighed after throwing the phone down and curled up in bed. You haven’t heard from John after the night you stayed at his place.

Has he ghosted you? Or has he decided you are too much for him to handle.

You know it was too good to be true.

You tried to move on from this short romance.

But even your niece and nephew can see how dejected you have been since their aunty’s “Furry boyfriend” hasn’t made an appearance for the last few months.

But here he is. With a single rose in his hand, together with a little teddy bear who’s holding a small bunch of flowers itself.

“I am sorry… for going M.I.A for the last few months.” he apologised as he shifted on his feet. “It has been. Quite an ordeal.” he sighed.

“You.. alright? Is everyone alright?” you asked, eyes flitting. His frown seems deeper than usual (your niblings often joke how he can squash a fly between his brows),the fresh cuts and healing scars on his face, the fatigue, as if life has drained out of him.

You immediately notice the way the twitches subtly everytime he moves his left arm.

Shaking your head as you bring yourself out from the whirling thoughts and observation, you realise you are letting an injured man standing in the cold. “Oh how rude of me. Come inside.” You took the flower and the teddy bear off him and stepped back and let him into the flat.

John looked around your cosy little granny flat. A small kitchenette, living room area, and the bedroom just off to the side. Bits of trinkets here and there, and hoards of photos on the wall. Your sister gave you the free reign of making his place yours, with promises that you don’t burn the place down with wild parties.

“Make yourself comfortable on the sofa…. Would you like tea? coffee, or ..” Or me? That silly little joke flashes across your mind but you mentally slap yourself. Not the time to make such a joke, you idiot. “I don’t think you can drink any alcohol with…” you asked as you wave towards his shoulder. He shook his head. “Tea would be fine, thank you.” he replied.

You nodded your head before putting the gift on the small dining table and started the kettle.

You could feel John’s eyes on you as you fret around the kitchenette to put the rose into a little vase and make the tea for both of you. Staring at you. Drinking you in. As if to make up for the last four months that he hasn’t seen you.

You handed him the cup of tea as you sat down beside him. The only sound in the room was the clock on the wall, ticking away as the two of you started sipping on the tea, not knowing how to start the conversation back up again.

“I.. we.” he paused for a second, gripping tight onto the mug as he stared across the room. “It’s been a close call. As you can see.” He laughed bitterly. “We nearly lost.. One of the boys.”

Your breath hitched. John talks fondly of his subordinates. From the one time you met them, they are a lovely (scary, but friendly) bunch The boys are almost like sons to him.

John never went into exact details about what his job entails. You knew he was in the military but he never went any further than that.

“My hands are not clean.”

You cock your eyebrows. “Are you a hitman?”

He chuckled. “Not that sinister. I am in the military.”

“Dangerous job.” you hummed as he nodded his head.

He looked down at his tumbler glass, gently swishing the ice and the whisky around. “But…someone has to do the dirty work.” he mumbled.

“I.. I am sorry to hear.”

You were slightly confused by his response, you remembered. But now, come to think of it, all the dots connect, with how tight lipped John is about his job, the injuries. His previous comments, the little stories here and there the boys told you about during the first meeting, you have guessed they are probably in some sort of elite unit in the army.

Never guaranteed to live until the next mission.

He shook his head, not replying. You reach out to put a hand on his thigh, not quite sure what else to say, or do. Without shifting his gaze, he let go of the grip on the mug and covered your hand with his warm callous hand, seeking for more comfort.

“Stay?” You broke the silence after a while, begging him. Silently wishing he can hear the pleading in your voice. After months of not having heard or seen him. You need him. And maybe, he needs you too. “Stay for the night. Please.”

He slowly turned his head, and looked you in the eyes. The sadness in it. you have never seen him like this before. He is a Captain. The commanding presence. The rock of the team.

Always calm and collected.

But who is the anchor for him when he is lost?

John held tight onto you in his sleep that night, like his life depends on it. Nozzle his head into the crook of your neck. You felt his body finally give in as you gently stroked his hair, occasionally dotting him with kisses. When was the last time he had a peaceful sleep?

“Aunty Bear? OH Furry uncle!!!” The high pitch yelling and something jumping onto the bed startled the two of you awake.

“How.. How did you two get in!” You gasped as you struggled out of John’s iron clamp that held you close all night. “Careful don’t touch John’s arm —” you warned as the two children started to clamber around the poor man.

“Mum gave me the key.” Your nephew pointed out before he turned towards John, who finally let you out of his grasp and slowly sat up. “Mum wants us to wake you up because you are late for breakfast.”

Oh lord. You were glad the two of you are still somewhat… presentable. You in your PJs and John.. in his boxer. At least we are not naked. You also totally forgot you were supposed to make pancake breakfast for your niblings.

“Hello you two little rascals..” Price chuckled, ruffling the two children’s hair. “How have you two been?” he asked in a tired voice.

“Good! Oh… what happened to your shoulder??” Your niece’s smile dropped as she spotted the bandage around John’s shoulder. “Did some bad people hurt you?”

John looked at you, and turned back to the little girl. “You could say that.”

“Does it hurt?” she poke it with her little finger while asking.

“Lizzy, it WILL hurt if you do that.” Her brother warned as he pulled his sister back. Lizzy pouted and turned her attention to John’s chest. “Oh, you got a furry chest too. Just like my dad…”

“Ok, you two, shoo off the bed, and tell your mother I will be over there in ten minutes.” you interrupted and usher your niblings off the bed and out of the room. The two groaned but quickly scrambled off the bed and ran towards the front door.

“Lock it before you leave too!!” You shouted.

“Is that how they wake you up every weekend?” John smiled, as he leaned back into bed and smiled at you.

“Um. Sometimes…” You blushed, and you don’t even know why you are blushing. The two of you slept together before. Well, purely sleeping. Not… in the … intimate sense. And you have seen his chest as well. It’s not like you have not been with men before. “We. um, better get out of bed, the kids seem to be hungry for breakfast.” you fidgeted, trying to cover your embarrassment. “Would you like to .. stay for breakfast? I am very good at making pancakes..And I promise you there will be different berries and even creams to go with it too. And honey, or maple syrup, whichever one you fancy…” you rambled on.

“If it’s not too much of a bother.”

You quickly shook your head. “Never. Never a bother.” you look into his eyes, with sincerity. Hoping he will understand the other meaning behind your words. He slowly reaches out, cupping your face with his uninjured hand, and caresses your cheek with his thumb, before looking down at your lip and back up to your eyes, silently asking for permission, before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on the lip.

“Thank you.”

“Did you two…..”

“ NO sis, NO.”

“Then what took you two so long then. You said ten minutes…”

“SHUSH.”

Tag list: ( I am just tagging who ever requested to be tagged at the last chapter and also who responded...let me know if you want to be taken off the next chapt's list thank you :) )

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@homicidal-slvt

@okayyadriana

@cumikering

@siilvan

@devcica

@nrdmssgs

@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck

@mmyrrhh

@whydoilikewhump

@crazymela

@makayla-666

@alypink

@merkitty49

@arminarlertssword

@ateliefloresdaprimavera

@roosterr

@okamimarta

@liyanahelena

#call of duty #john price x f!Reader #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #captain price #sofasoap writes

182 notes · View notes

meazalykov · 8 days

Text

getting what she wants

lena oberdorf x reader

part four of five

summary: you wonder if she will take this as seriously as you will, since the unfortunate event will turn her life around

warnings: angst, acl injury

the atmosphere in washington, d.c. was buzzing, the crowd already filling up the stadium for the final friendly before the olympics.

the last tune-up match. the send off. you should’ve been excited, but your mind wasn’t entirely focused on the game ahead.

your family was here, your non-soccer playing friends have called off from their jobs just to celebrate your achievements.

however, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, though you hadn’t put your finger on it yet.

emma had decided to rest you for the first half, opting to try out some new formations and lineups before the olympics.

you were okay with it, knowing that your performance in new york had already solidified your spot in the starting lineup for the tournament. still, sitting on the bench with your legs jittering from the adrenaline that always hit just before a match wasn’t easy.

you sat between tierna and hal, the latter relatively new to the national team setup. hal’s wide eyes scanned the field, soaking it all in as she sat nervously beside you.

"y/n," she said, her voice soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should even speak to you.

you turn your head to look at her, with a light smile letting her know that she can speak to you anytime.

"i know you’re going through a hard time, according to the team. and i feel like you should hear this since we haven’t talked much but i’ve just... i’ve always admired you. as a midfielder, i mean. your control, your playmaking, it’s... i don’t know, you’re so goated."

you turned to her, surprised by the compliment. you hadn’t interacted with hal much since this was only her third call-up to the senior team. she was still finding her spot, but her genuine words made you smile, if only a little.

"thank you, you don’t understand how much that means to me right now" you replied, offering her a nod of acknowledgment.

"you’ve been doing great too. i can’t wait to play with you more often."

hal gave a nervous smile, then added, "i know there’s been... a lot of drama lately. with carmine and everything. but i want you to know that i’d like to be your friend, no matter what. i don’t care about the rumors that might make you look bad or any of that stuff."

her words took you off guard, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

it wasn’t easy to open up to new people, especially after your ex ruined your trust for a temporary period, but hal’s sincerity was a breath of fresh air.

"i’d like that," you said, meaning it.

"friends sound good."

the game started, and for the first half, you sat watching intently, analyzing the way emma was testing out the new players.

mexico was tough, just as they had been in the gold cup back in february, but you knew that your team had enough firepower to break them down eventually.

at halftime, it was still 0-0, and you were itching to get on the field.

emma must’ve sensed it, because in the 63rd minute, she called your name.

"y/n, you’re going in. i want you to play in your normal position, just like last game, prioritize the opportunity. stay in the line– i trust you."

you nodded, already mentally preparing yourself as you stripped off your warm-up gear and jogged to the sideline.

when the whistle blew, you stepped onto the pitch replacing rose lavelle, ready to make an impact.

within minutes, you found your rhythm, linking up with mallory, lynn, and sophia effortlessly. you could feel the game starting to open up, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the breakthrough came.

and then, in the 78th minute, it did.

lynn made a run down the left wing, drawing two defenders toward her. you saw the space open up in the middle and called for the ball.

she cut it back to you, and without hesitation, you took a touch, then drilled it into the bottom corner of the net.

the goalkeeper dives too late to save it.

the crowd erupted as you run to the corner to celebrate. you see your family and personal friends and give them a heart with your hands, happy to see them here.

your teammates swarming you. it wasn’t a hat trick like the last game, but it was your fourth goal in two games, and it felt good—really good.

after the final whistle, with a 1-0 victory secured, you headed back to the locker room.

the energy was high, the team buzzing with excitement, but there was a heavy pit forming in your stomach.

something didn't feel right before the game, and you couldn’t shake it.

as you sat on the bench, wiping the sweat and grass dirt from your face, lindsey walked over, her expression serious. she motioned for you to follow her, pulling you into one of the private areas of the locker room.

"hi?" you asked, sensing something was wrong.

is she confronting you about the drama? you weren’t sure. lindsey reassured you many times that everyone still loves you, so you hope there were no new problems now.

lindsey hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours before she spoke.

"i didn’t want to tell you before the game, but... lena got injured in germany’s friendly against austria. it’s her knee. popp thinks it’s her acl."

your heart dropped into your stomach, the words hitting you like a freight train.

"what?" your voice cracked, panic already rising in your chest.

"she’s in the hospital back in germany right now," lindsey continued softly.

"i’m sorry, y/n."

you didn’t think twice. without another word, you grabbed your phone and hurried outside to find a quieter space.

it was 11:30 p.m. in dc, which meant it was 5:30 am in germany.

lena would still be awake, especially if she was in the hospital.

with shaky hands, you dialed her number. the phone rang twice before she picked up, her voice groggy but filled with pain.

"hey," lena murmured.

"i was hoping you’d call. nice goal by the way, i saw it on tv."

"lena, i just found out," you said, your voice tight as you tried to hold back the wave of emotions crashing over you.

"your acl? are you okay? i—i should’ve called sooner but i had that game—"

"i’m... i don’t know," lena admitted, her voice breaking slightly.

"it hurts like hell, and i couldn’t sleep. i was supposed to start my first game with you at bayern after the summer, but now... now i don’t even know when i’ll be back."

your heart ached hearing the defeat in her voice.

lena was one of the toughest people you knew, but this was breaking her.

"i’m so sorry," you whispered, your throat tight.

"i’ll be there for you, okay? after the olympics, i’ll help you with your recovery. i’ll make time, i promise."

"you don’t have to do that," lena said quietly, though you could hear the gratitude in her tone.

"i don’t want to be a burden on you. you have so much going on—" she switches to german.

"lena," you cut her off, your voice firm.

"you’re not a burden. you’re a priority. i want to help you. i’ll be there for you, whatever you need. i promise."

there was a long pause on the other end before lena spoke again.

"thank you," she whispered. "i... i don’t know what i’d do without you right now."

you sat there, the weight of her words sinking in. the truth was, you didn’t know what you’d do without her either.

shes been in contact with you everyday since that night. unless there were training or games, there wasn’t a single long-period where you weren’t texting about something– or anything.

despite everything—despite the complicated mess you’d been through with your ex, and the uncertainty that had surrounded your relationship with lena—you realized just how deep your feelings for her ran.

you weren’t official with lena. not yet. but the way your heart was breaking for her right now told you everything you needed to know.

after a long pause, lena spoke again, her voice softer now.

"i’ll still make time for you, even with everything going on."

"no," you said firmly. "i’m going to be there for you, okay? i’ll help you recover. you won’t have to go through this alone."

"thank you," lena whispered again, her voice filled with emotion.

you sat there, the phone still pressed to your ear, your mind racing. this wasn’t how you’d imagined things would go.

lena was supposed to start fresh at bayern after the summer, and now... now everything had changed.

when you returned to the locker room, the news had already spread. the atmosphere was a mix of excitement from the win and the heaviness of what had just happened to lena.

your teammates, especially the ones who knew her well like tierna, gave you sympathetic looks, but no one said much.

as the team prepared to leave for d.c., the weight of everything that had happened in the past few weeks hit you all at once.

from the messy breakup with sloan to lena’s injury, it felt like everything was spinning out of control.

and yet, despite it all, one thing became clear to you as you boarded the plane for the olympics:

you wanted to be with lena. not just as a friend, not just as someone helping her recover, but you wanted to be hers. and her to be yours.

the thing is– you weren’t sure how it would all work out with lena, but you knew one thing for sure: you were in too deep to turn back now.

when all of this was over, you and lena could figure it out together.

the olympics came and went in a blur, the pressure mounting as you advanced through the tournament.

the uswnt played like machines under emma hayes, and before you knew it, you found yourself in the final against brazil, the stakes higher than ever.

the atmosphere at the olympic final against brazil was electric. you were in the 2020 olympics with the team, but winning bronze doesn’t compare to this.

you stood shoulder to shoulder with lindsey and sam, eyes fixed on the opponents you’ve had faced so many times before.

brazil was known for their speed and creativeness, but you knew alyssa naeher was more than prepared to keep them at bay.

today wasn’t just another game — it was the olympic final. and you were more determined than ever to bring home gold. just to prove to yourself that nothing could stop your game, not your cheating ex— nobody.

but as the national anthem played, you couldn’t help but think of lena.

you hadn’t spoken to her much over the last few days, mostly because she was in the thick of her recovery then traveling to meet up with her national team.

though, lena was in the audience. you knew that. lena visited her german teammates as they won the bronze medal match against spain. to say that you were happy for them would've been an understatement.

now the germans were here before the ceremony, ready to watch you put on an outstanding performance for gold.

your heart ached when you thought of her, the injury that had thrown both of your worlds off course.

she was supposed to be thriving, ready to become a star at bayern, and now she was sidelined for months.

but right now, you had a job to do.

the whistle blew, and the final kicked off.

brazil came out swinging, full of energy, and the first twenty minutes were a back-and-forth battle in the midfield.

every time adriana or marta touched the ball, your heart skipped a beat, but you knew alyssa was solid in the back.

the triple espresso were pushing the attack, but brazil’s defense was holding strong.

at around the 30-minute mark, you found yourself in space, sam coffey threading a pass your way.

your first touch was sharp, pushing the ball ahead of you as you glanced up to see the keeper off her line. the triple espresso was blocked by defenders, so without a second thought, you wound up and took the shot from just outside the box, sending the ball curling toward the top corner.

the sound of the net rippling sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, and the stadium exploded in celebration. 1-0.

you threw your arms up, letting the emotion wash over you as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

something inside of you wanted to cry in joy– but you held it in. there was still work to be done, and brazil wasn’t going to back down easily.

the rest of the first half was intense.

brazil pressed hard, but the u.s. defense, led by alyssa, naomi, emily, crystal, and tierna, stood strong.

when brazil did manage to get a shot off, alyssa was there, calm and collected, making crucial saves to maintain the lead.

at halftime, the locker room was a mixture of adrenaline and focus.

the 1-0 lead felt good, but you knew it wasn’t enough. brazil was dangerous, and if you let up for even a second, they’d capitalize.

emma gathered the team for a quick pep talk, her voice steady but full of fire. you listened, making sure that you put on the best performance of your career in this second half.

as the second half kicked off, you could feel the tension.

brazil came out with renewed energy, and for the first 15 minutes, they pinned you back, testing alyssa with shots from distance.

she held firm, pulling off save after save, keeping the clean sheet intact.

you cheered, externally or internally, everytime.

in the 65th minute, emma made a tactical switch, bringing in fresh legs to maintain the pace. fortunately, you weren’t subbed out.

the game shifted again, and you found yourself back in the attack. mallory broke down the wing, flying past her defender, and whipped in a cross toward the penalty spot.

you were already there, timing your run perfectly. the ball floated in, and without hesitating, you leapt into the air, connecting with the header.

it wasn’t the hardest shot you’d ever taken, but it was placed perfectly, tucking into the bottom corner past brazil’s keeper.

2-0.

the stadium erupted, louder this time, the roar deafening as you run around the pitch with your arms up high. your teammates chased then mobbed you once again. most teammates from the bench even jumping up to hug you in celebration.

a two-goal lead in the olympic final. you could taste the gold now.

with brazil rattled, the game started to open up. there were more chances on both sides, but your defense was unbreakable.

alyssa, naomi, and emily were locked in, keeping brazil at bay with every attack they mounted. it felt like nothing could get past them, and you could see the frustration building in the brazilian players.

as the clock ticked down, the final whistle was nearing, but you kept your foot on the gas.

brazil was desperate, throwing numbers forward, and that left them exposed at the back.

in the 88th minute, you found yourself in possession again, just outside the box.

sophia made a darting run to pull the defenders away, giving you just enough space to take a shot. you faked to your right, cutting back inside, and then unleashed a low, driven strike toward the far post.

the ball hit the bar, but trinity recovered it and tapped it behind the net.

3-0. the gold was yours.

the crowd exploded in celebration as you dropped to your knees, overwhelmed with emotion.

trinity laid on top of you, crying with you.

your teammates swarmed you, hugging you, lifting you up, the joy infectious. you had done it. olympic champions.

as the final whistle blew, the team celebrated like there was no tomorrow, hugging, crying, laughing.

you had your gold medal moment, standing on top of the world.

your hands were on your face as your sobs came out uncontrollably. if you told yourself a month ago that you’d be this happy and relieved, you wouldn’t believe it.

lindsey and tierna comforted you as you stood up to go to the locker room, getting ready to shower before the ceremony.

as you had a moment to settle down, your thoughts drifted back to lena.

you hadn’t realized how deep your feelings for her had grown.

the fact that she was there, the fact that she was hundreds of feet away in the stadium, recovering from an injury that could derail her season instead of celebrating bronze with her team, weighed heavily on your heart.

later that night, after all the celebrations, after the medals had been handed out and the photos had been taken, you found a quiet moment to yourself.

the weight of the gold medal around your neck was a reminder of everything you’d worked for, but the ache in your chest was for something, someone else.

you pulled out your phone, glancing at the time.

lena was probably asleep by now after partying with her national team, but you couldn’t help it. you needed to talk to her.

you dialed her number, your heart pounding as the phone rang. after a few rings, she picked up, her voice groggy.

"hey," she mumbled.

"you did it!" she cheered through her tired voice.

"yeah," you whispered, your throat tight.

"we won."

there was a long pause on the other end, and you could hear lena shift slightly, probably trying to get comfortable in her bed.

you know that she is someone who sleeps on her stomach, so the brace might make it hard for her.

"i’m so proud of you," she said softly.

"i wish you were here with me," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

"this doesn’t feel right without you, even if you do have a different nationality than me." you giggled.

"i wish i was there too," she replied, her voice filled with longing.

"but... i’ll be here when you get back. we’ll figure everything out then. until then, please enjoy your win."

you smiled, tears stinging your eyes. "i’m coming home to you. as soon as all of this is done."

"i’ll be waiting," lena whispered.

as you hung up after the goodnights, the weight of everything hit you all at once.

the olympics, the gold, lena’s injury, your breakup with sloan, the confusion about what you and lena really were—it was all so much.

one thing was clear in your mind as you stared down at the gold medal around your neck: it didn’t matter what obstacles lay ahead now.

you moved on from whatever was in the past and you were in this with lena now, for the long run.

part five, the final part, here

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #bayern munich

93 notes · View notes

stupidlovergirl · 8 months

Text

Kiss Me, Beneath the Milky Twilight Dev Notes: I'm trying to write more for February, but I don't know if I'll succeed. The title comes the lyrics from the song Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

Lucifer’s kisses taste faintly like apples a lot, but primarily like coffee and tea. It’s a fresh but bitter taste, but coming from him, it tastes sweeter than usual. His lips are pretty soft, not really chapped much. They’re very nice, as he likes to keep a healthy appearance

“What are you doing today?” he asks, pouring the tea into the pretty porcelain. He sets it down and looks up at you as he hands you the cup.

“I promised Beel to go with him to this new cafe, and then in the afternoon I’m going with Simeon and Luke to look at the farmer’s market” You make the tea, adding everything you wanted.

“Ah, busy day then?” He says as he takes a drink, looking up over his cup.

“Yeah, it seems to be” You laugh softly, leaning back into the couch, taking a drink of your own tea. After idly chatting and filling each others’ days. After you finish your drink and stand, Lucifer follows quickly after, walking with you to the door.

“I’ll see you later, my love” Lucifer says, and leans in, softly kissing you. Easily you respond, happily receiving it. The taste faintly of the tea he drank, and underneath it the coffee and poison apple he had earlier. A taste so uniquely Lucifer, that it is even more pleasant. As the two of you part, you smile softly up at him.

“Another?” you ask, but he was already leaning in.

Mammon’s kisses are as unique as him. He always starts off hesitant at the first, but easily falls into it, putting all of himself into it as he kisses you like it’s the last, and when you pull away he always tries to follow, reluctant to stop. He tastes sweet and spicy, a vanilla and cinnamon combo of his lip balm, smearing across your own. He can never have just one, having to have at least three to be happy with it all.

“Nooo” Mammon whines, clinging to your waist as you attempt to get up. “I can’t believe yer leavin’ the Great Mammon”

“I’m just getting a drink!” You complain, trying to pull his arms off, but being quite unsuccessful. After a few moments, you sit back down with a huff, and Mammon easily slides his upper half into your lap, flashing the grin he uses during modeling up at you. Glaring down at him, you grab a pillow off to the side and quickly push it into his face, causing him to splutter as he fights it off. After escaping your cruel attempts to suffocate him, he grabs one next to him and hits you with it, which leads to the all out pillow war between the two of you, laughing loudly as you hit each other with the pillows. After you both settle down, you smile at him, leaning and placing your head against his chest.

“Love you” you mumble softly, smiling and breathing heavily,

“As you should! Everyone loves the Great- Hey!” He yelps as you pinch him lightly, glaring, but the smile on your face and amusement in your eyes show there is no real anger.

He grins, looking down, before placing a kiss on your lips. You smile, and easily push yourself up to capture his lips more. You pull away, his mouth trying to follow as you adjust to a more comfortable position, before kissing him again. You hum softly, pulling away again, and put your forehead against his, as his pretty blue eyes flutter open, staring into yours.

“I love ya’ too” He mumbles, before chasing your lips again, searing another kiss on your lips.

Leviathan’s are on a spectrum, sometimes there needy, trying to make sure you know how much he loves you. Other times, they’re shy, barely able to connect without flustering and trying to run away. He tries his best, though. He always kinda tastes a little acrid, taurine is embedded into his DNA at this point. His lips are chapped, and he bites and pulls on the skin so sometimes the skin cracks and sometimes splits, so you have to be careful.

“Leviiii” You call out, swinging his door open and entering, smiling widely. Levi looks up, clicking the spacebar on his keyboard before swiveling to look at you.

“What are you watching?”

With a few steps, you stand before him, holding out a bufo milk tea to him as you peer at the screen.

“Oh! It’s this anime about this party that’s in a dungeon and-” with a swiftness only Levi can manage he spills the plot of the anime he’s watching as you settle yourself down in his room, dragging a chair to him.

“And they fought these-” and with a smile, you kiss him, soft and quick, before pulling away.

“And they fought what?” You ask, teasing slightly as Levi looks, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” he screeches, covering his face as furious red covers his face. A laugh escapes you, giddy and delighted at his reaction. Grabbing his hands and smiling as you pull his hands away from his face.

“Fine, fine” you say, giggling softly. “Can I kiss you?”

“...mrphh, yes…please?” he asks softly, eyes casted off to the side. With ease, you lean in again, kissing him again. It’s slightly acrid, as usual, the taste of D Energy lingers on his lips, but the sweetness of the tea quickly follows. His chapped lips are rough, but it is so uniquely him. As you pull away, he hides away in your neck as you hum, rubbing his back, humming in delight.

Satan's kisses are quite plain, maybe having the lingering smell of vaseline, as he isn’t particularly fond of flavored lip balms. He always starts gentle, very romantic and traditional, but after a few, it’s like he’s hungry, never wanting to part, slightly nipping at your lips. He just can’t help himself, it’s an instinct to him. He likes the way it feels you look soft and wide-eyed.

You rest, snuggled up together underneath the blanket. A detective show hums on in the background, adding to the ambiance of the rainy day, creating a melody of warmth between the percussion of the rain and the woodwinds of Satan’s breathing. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself deeper into his arms. Closing your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat.

“Are you sleepy, darling?” He says, rubbing your arm softly. “No, just comfy” your eyes crack open with a slowness, and first you see the soft grin on Satan’s face, and then the fondness in his eyes. His hands move to hold your face in between them, as he leans down to kiss you softly, so sweet. Easily, your own go to his shoulders, finding a grounding point between the soft passion.

“You’re so pretty” he says as he pulls away, eyes filling with an intensity. Then he leans in again, more intense, pouring more love into it as he kisses you with a steady recklessness. It goes on, slowly increasing till his teeth bite into your bottom lip, not hard, but enough that there will be a slight indent. As he pulls away, soft breaths pull into his lungs as he does, eyes flutter open, he grins.

“Have I told you that you’re perfect?”

Asmodeus tastes super sweet. A sugary cherry that lingers long after, underlined with nutmeg. Sticky, most of the time, from lip glosses and lipsticks. Always leaving a mark wherever his lips trace over. He always giggles and looks adoringly at the marks, smiling. He also looks just as pretty, with the soft smear of the color on his lips, slowly fading with each time he leans in, placing them with smug smiles and soft giggles, murmurs about how his color is just right on you.

“Darling, what about this one?” Asmo calls from where he sits at his vanity, turning to look at where you lay on his bed, starfished out. With a soft laugh, he stands up and comes to hover over you, looking down.

“It looks pretty, compliments your hair,” You gaze up at where he hovers above you, the pink lipstick shimmers bright on his lips, “The glitter matches you as well”

Compliments come naturally at this point, because it’s true, Asmo is pretty, and everything looks good on him. He hums, pushing a lock behind his ear, before leaning down, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It’s good, unnaturally good. Good in a way that only Asmodeus could be good. So sweet that it’s addicting, and you know you never want it to stop. Unfortunately, he breaks away, looking down at you again. He hums, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, then kisses your cheek. You can feel where it’s transfering onto your own skin, soft and slightly sticky.

“Hmm…” he hums softly, before returning to your lips, even more intense this time, stealing your breath away. He pulls away, despite the soft huff you release as he does so, and he looks down at you again, eyes alight.

“Yup! This is the one!” He says, humming as he walks back to his vanity.

Beel’s kisses are slightly sloppy, and tends to have a unique taste due to all the food he eats. Sometimes they are super sweet, the taste of frosting and fruit making it pleasant, to some unique tastes like the experimental fusion food he just tried. It always leaves you guessing, but for the most part you’ve gotten used to it, because you rather give Beel a kiss than see the sad look on his face whenever you deny him because of his eating habits. He does carry around those tiny one use toothbrushes whenever it gets too much for you. He is VERY soft and gentle, he doesn’t want to hurt you. Very cute about it all

You swing your hand, linked with Beel’s much larger one as you walk down mainstreet, looking through windows of the shops, pointing at the different items and talking about them, while Beel munches on whatever food he’s acquired. You squeeze his hand softly as you look up at him, grinning as he eats the crepe in his hand, full of whipped cream and fruit.

“Is it good?” you ask, after he swallows his bite, grinning at the whipped cream on his upper lip.

“Mhm, the fruits are fresh,” he squeezes back, looking at you. “Do you want a taste?”

With the question, he slightly tilts his head, and you are reminded of a puppy, which makes your smile widen even more.

“Sure” you say, but before he can lift it up to your lips, you grasp his shirt, pulling him closer. He complies, confused, before you kiss him, which he accepts with ease, a small grin on his lips. It was a quick kiss, gentle and soft despite all his strength. As you pull away, you lick your top lip, tasting the whipped cream that smeared there.

“Pretty good there, love”

“Mm, not as sweet as you”

Belphie has a unique way of kissing. Very slow and lazy, but it’s still pretty cute cause he subconsciously makes soft noises. Just low hums and a few purrs as he kisses you. He really REALLY likes being able to kiss you awake, and when you do it to him. He likes the trust you put in him to allow him to do it. I think he personally has surprisingly really nice lips. He uses a honey chapstick to avoid the nuisance of cracked lips. He is can be really annoying and pretend he’s going to kiss you but pull away and won’t give in till you beg, shameless king

A soft kiss placed on the tip of your nose, which makes it scrunch up. You groan softly, going to bury your head into the pillows. Though, that’s quickly thwarted when hands move your face, and a soft, unhurried kiss is placed on your lips. You reciprocate with the same unhurriedness, and when they disappear, you finally open your eyes. There Belphie was, his eyes drooped to show he hasn’t been up much longer than you.

“Hey” he rasps out, smiling, hands rubbing your side with a soft smile. You groan, moving to shove your face into his chest. A soft rumbling sounds from his throat, making you smile as you inhale the smell of his detergent. He kisses you again, the soft purring making it even more warm. You laugh as you separate again. As you go to kiss him again, he moves his head away.

“Belphie” you say, moving even closer, but he just flips around, facing his back to you. You gape, huffing softly as you crawl over him to reach his face, but he just yanks the blanket over his face, laughing as you try to tug it away.

“Belphie!” you say, exasperated, but a laugh bubbling underneath it, as he laughs also

“I think you forgot something” he say, lowering the blanket to show the top half of his face, eyes full of mischief’

“Can I have a kiss?” you ask, rolling your eyes as a smile crosses your face

“You can do better than that, little star” he says, eyes crinkling from his hidden smile

“Can I have a kiss, please?” You lean in, looking him right in the eyes. He laughs, lowering the blanket.

You lean in, kissing him, and the purring gets even deeper.

#lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obswd x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x you #leviathan x you #satan x you #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x you #belphegor x you #obey me x you #obswd x you #bunny's.game.collection

276 notes · View notes

pileofmush · 6 months

Text

you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood.

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares.

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold.

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed.

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him.

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?”

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.”

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows.

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?”

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it.

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first.

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.”

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin.

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts.

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly.

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?”

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something.

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen.

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it.

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple.

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Yeaaaah. It’s true.

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used.

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again.

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor.

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open.

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway.

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you.

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?”

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you.

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his.

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen.

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods.

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe.

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life.

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return.

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again.

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes.

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you.

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask.

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—”

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out."

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean.

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones.

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu.

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs.

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear.

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart.

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly.

…You don’t know if you want to.

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close.

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh.

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement.

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it.

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done.

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment.

You scrub, and scrub.

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command.

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body.

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting.

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.”

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night.

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together.

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on.

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—”

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—”

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him.

You look at him.

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you.

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish.

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?”

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach.

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams.

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta x you #yuta x you #jjk x gn!reader #jjk #tw: blood #tw: death #m.jjk #m.yuuta #battle scarred;#yuuta my beloved <3

353 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 7 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧'𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧

The first port of call, whether you intuitively chose it or not, was always going to be Bucky — rain or shine, he was there to lift your spirits, and at that moment, you needed it more than ever.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✾ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✾ 1.8k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✾ Fluff, angst, comfort ✾ If you want a big hug and a kiss on the forehead from Bucky? this is the fic for you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✾ I have missed these two, and I know they've been wanted for a little while as well.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ✾ No Milk Today by Joshua James and The Forest Rangers ✾ Crash This Train (Acoustic) by Joshua James

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ✾ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟰 — Tattoo Artist AU — Masterlist ✾ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Forehead Kiss (February) — Masterlist ✾ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Heart Of Gold — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hadn’t meant to make your way to 107th Ink — truly, you hadn’t.

After the exhausting trials and frustrating moments that spanned the entirety of the day, you aimed to make your way back home and sit yourself down on the couch with a pint of ice cream to wind down, your favourite movie playing on the screen while you ate your fill.

But no. On autopilot, your instincts took you straight to the soon to close shop and parked your car out the very front.

Through the decorated glass that spanned the front of the shop, you could see Sam — the newest addition to the crew, and Steve. Both of them milled about and performed various duties to close up shop for the night. Peter appeared from a doorway, a broom in hand to sweep the floor.

You suspected Nat had a hand in making the boys work hard.

A deep breath made your shoulders rise and fall, then, a small sniffle startled you, and you realised with a jolt that you had started to cry. The fresh burn of tears on your waterline only made you more frustrated — it began a replay of all the events of the day in your mind, from everything going wrong to just plain horrid, bad luck.

The quiet clinking of your keys was quiet next to your stifled sobs, and you made your way haltingly to the front door of Bucky’s shop, his haven — the epitome of his pride and hard work.

While you approached, Steve looked up from whatever chore he was doing and smiled, though it was wiped from his face before you could muster something that resembled a smile back. His deep frown only made you whimper, and he made towards the door with a fast jog.

His lips moved as though he was saying something to Sam and Peter who startled at his hurried movements, before the door swung open with a loud clink from the bell, and he rushed over. “Sunny? What’s happened, sweetheart?”

You furiously blinked back the tears, but it was to no avail. “Just– Just a bad day, Stevie, I’m sorry, I–”

“Nuh-uh, you’re not apologising.” The warmth from his body when he pulled you into his chest was soothing — an all-encompassing embrace. His arms squeezed you against him before he tucked you against his side. “C’mon, let’s get you to Buck.”

The awkward shuffle to the shop entrance made you laugh as your feet stumbled, and Steve smiled heartily as he pulled open the door to usher you inside. Both Peter and Sam looked up from their chores to greet you, but they blanched in unison with worry before Steve shook his head at them.

You could barely manage a smile at them through the silent tears that still streamed down your cheeks.

“Sunny, love,” Steve said, pointing towards Bucky’s booth, his other hand resting on your shoulder where he squeezed reassuringly. “He’s just through there, sweetheart.” Louder, he called, “Buck! Your girl is here.”

The soft footfalls from your shoes couldn’t be heard over the music playing on the overhead speakers. Before you reached Bucky’s door, you looked at Steve over your shoulder. “Thanks, Stevie.”

He smiled at you sadly and nodded. “Anytime, sweetheart. Go on now.”

Your hand pushed open the familiar door to reveal Bucky’s booth. The walls were a deep burgundy, populated with frames of various artworks by the man himself as an ambitious teenager, to the more refined, finessed works of a seasoned artist.

There was no need to look for your love — Bucky was sitting on his wheeled stool with a stricken expression, lips pulled downwards in a frown and brows pinched as he took in your glossy eyes. “Baby? What–” The stool clattered backwards with the speed he stood up, and you sobbed as he hugged you. “Oh, baby girl, c’mere—you’re alright.”

Bucky held you tight, one hand splayed over the small of your back, and the other rubbed up and down between your shoulders. The soft brush of his lips over your forehead tickled, but he never ceased the constant reassurances and soothing words; how he was relieved you came to see him instead of going straight home to wallow.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still sniffling as you rested your cheek against him. “I didn’t mean to butt in–”

“No, that’s enough,” he interrupted. “‘M here for whatever and whenever you need me, sweetheart. I promised you and that will never change.” There was another kiss pressed to your forehead — you couldn’t voice just how it filled you with an unwavering sense of comfort.

“But–”

“That wasn’t up for discussion, baby—now lemme hold you, I know you love hugs.”

You sighed, defeated. “Okay.”

His lips pressed harder against your forehead, a firm kiss that trailed to your temple and back; the cycle repeating on itself. The creak of his leather boots sounded while he rocked the two of you gently side to side.

Moments passed in his embrace, when he suddenly said, “Why don’t I cheer you up a lil’? Then we can talk—I just wanna see my girl smile again.”

In lieu of an answer, you squeezed your arms around him, and he took the initiative to walk you both towards the padded, tattoo chair. The papers that were scattered over the base of the seat were piled neatly onto his equipment cabinet, and he hummed along to the song that played from the speaker connected to his phone as he moved around.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, watching him curiously.

“I am gonna make you smile,” Bucky teased, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be a surprise. But I need you in my lap, alright?” Without waiting for your reply, he jumped up onto the chair and hung his legs off either side — a tattooed hand slapped the space between his thighs in an invitation to sit. “C’mere.”

With only an ounce of hesitation, you moved to sit between his thighs — your back pressed to his chest and his chin sat tucked in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The stubble from his beard tickled your skin, making you giggle quietly. “There’s my girl, huh? Alright, it’s a good thing you’re wearin’ a dress today.”

You looked at him quizzically over your shoulder. “What–?”

“I’m gonna draw on your thighs, jus’ somethin’ small,” he murmured while he dug through the draws of his supplies. There were glimpses of paint brushes and pens, fine line points to broad, chiselled markers — each labelled neatly and organised according to colour. “I thought my idea was fittin’ for my baby girl, given she’s my Sunshine.”

Tears sprang to your eyes again from his earnest words. “Buck–”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Lemme treat you, I wanna make you smile again. Close your eyes for me.”

“Okay,” you whispered, and you fluttered your lids closed. The hard press of his muscled chest against your back as you leaned into him earned you a kiss on the cheek. It was easy to give in to the warmth that consumed you in his presence, the way he brought peace to your constantly whirring mind — how, even on your worst days, he could make everything better by just being there. “I trust you.”

Another soft kiss was placed on your temple in reply.

The sudden strange sensation of ink on your skin felt remarkably ticklish — the tip of the marker danced over your thighs, moving in long, wavy lines, to short, finer bursts of movement. Bucky continued to hum softly to the song that played on the speaker while he worked.

There was no distinct way to decipher just what Bucky was up to, or what vision he was bringing to life in that moment, but you were content to just sit there in his company.

Until the sensation ceased on that thigh and began on the other. “What are you–” The movements froze while you squirmed.

“No, don’t look just yet, sweetheart,” Bucky scolded. “It’s a surprise.”

An exaggerated pout played on your lips to truly sell your displeasure. “I don’t like surprises.”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. This will be worth the wait, though, baby.”

The way time froze while you basked in Bucky’s attention and warmth made it seem like forever passed, when finally, he pulled the pen away from your skin, and cleared his throat.

A beat of silence hung in the air while he seemingly admired his work. Then, “Okay, open your eyes.”

The sudden exposure to the bright lights overhead made you wince as you focused your eyes. “Damn, it’s bright,” you said sarcastically, and Bucky chuckled. His hands rubbed up and down your arms to ground you.

Slowly, you lowered your gaze to your thighs and found them both decorated in the delicate, beautiful petals of a pair of sunflowers. The saturation of the golden yellow blooms stole your breath, and the tinges of orange in the shadowed strokes of the pen made the contrast unlike anything you’d ever seen, the beauty forever unmatched.

The deep, sage green bud of each flower smoothly transitioned into the softer, vibrant parrot green of the stalk and leaves. “Holy–”

In the background was a symmetrical, matching, fine filigree of swirls that if you looked closer, you could make out the patterns of rose thorns. “Oh, Buck,” you gasped, your hand flying to cover your open mouth.

Bucky’s hand rested just below the bottom of the left design. “One day, I want to get this on my own skin—so I have my sun with me, always.”

You were unable to speak or articulate a single word in your awestruck state. The meld of colours became blurred by tears of gratitude.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. The pad of his thumb brushed over the skin of your cheek to collect the trailing tears, and he hugged you tightly. “I’ve got you.”

Eventually, after you made it back home with Bucky, you expressed your distress at losing the artistry that decorated your thighs, only he smiled and winked. It left you puzzled and confused. “What are you up to…?”

For the umpteenth time that day, Bucky’s lips brushed your forehead in a kiss. His breath was warm as it fanned over your skin, and he said simply, “Don’t you worry that pretty head a’yours, baby.”

The plan of which he kept under wraps came to fruition only a couple days later, to your utter glee. You woke up late that morning and padded into the kitchen to make breakfast, when something in the living room caught your eye.

You backtracked the few shuffled steps and blinked sleepily, trying to focus on the wall directly in front of you, and it almost bowled you over with the shock of what you found in your sleep-addled state.

Hung high on the wall was a frame made of ash wood. Within the frame was a sketch — beautifully and masterfully rendered — of a pair of sunflowers side by side, entwined with the thorny stem of a rose.

An identical recreation of what Bucky created for you to lift your spirits.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #SweetSpicyHearts #BaBB2023

222 notes · View notes

halfmoth-halfman · 1 year

Text

forever is mine with you

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: cheating (reader gets cheated on) & fluff Prompt: Neighbors Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: we've got more gaz for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023 💜

January

Kyle's new neighbor moves in the day after New Year's.

He hadn’t even known his old neighbor had moved out, so rare was it that he spent time at home. He sees the moving van just as he’s returning from his morning run, slowing to a curious pace as he passes by to get into the apartment building. The van doors are wide open, revealing a few larger boxes and a long, black couch, but there’s no one around.

He knows this area is safe, that there’s very little chance of someone making off with any of the boxes–and no chance of someone getting away with the couch–but he’s a worrier at heart. So, he hovers near the entrance, pretending to be occupied on his phone while keeping an eye on the van through the large glass windows of the building.

His breath hitches in his throat the second you step into the lobby. You look positively exhausted, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings with stray pieces of your tied-up hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Deep bags run under your eyes as you blink away sleep and what Kyle suspects is remnants of a New Year’s well-spent. Despite your tired appearance, there’s a wide smile spread across your face that has his heart skipping a beat as you head out to the van and start pulling out another box.

The box could be heavy, Kyle thinks, watching you slide it across the floor of the van. It would be rude not to offer help.

He gets two steps toward the door when someone rushes past him, and a man hurries to the van to lift the box from your hands. You stick your tongue out at him and lean over the box to give him a quick kiss before you disappear into the van again. Kyle decides to wait to introduce himself and, with one last look at your grinning face, turns to head back to his flat.

February

He doesn’t see you again for a month.

It’s not that he didn’t want to properly introduce himself, he just never had the chance. It seemed the two of you were operating on different schedules, only catching small glimpses of each other like ships passing in the night.

He has one week of leave left, and Kyle intends to make every second worth it. He spends the day outside, enjoying the fresh air and treating himself to his favorite takeout. He’s reluctant to return to his flat, but the moment he steps onto his floor he can’t seem to remember why.

All of his thoughts go straight to you, and the way you’re standing outside of your door looking like something straight out of his dreams.

Not that he would ever admit to dreaming of you, of course.

You’re all dressed up, more beautiful than anyone Kyle has ever seen. Hair done and decorated with tiny pearls to match the string of pearls around your neck, makeup flawless right down to the velvet red painted on your lips, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s the dress that does him in. All crimson silk as it clings to every curve of your body, a slit in the leg that is so sinfully high.

You must feel him staring because you turn your head and meet his eyes with shocking quickness. Kyle composes himself, not wanting to be labeled as the creepy neighbor, and gives a wave with a polite, friendly smile. You smile back, almost bashful, as you shift on your feet.

Say something, he scolds himself, don’t just stare.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks once he’s managed to find his voice. You raise a brow, something like amusement crossing your face.

“Valentine’s Day?” you laugh softly with a tilt of your head.

Right. It was the 14th, wasn’t it? It’d been so long since he’d celebrated–or had someone to celebrate with–Kyle had stopped thinking about the holiday.

“Fun plans, then?” he says, nodding to your dress and trying his hardest not to stare at the way your pearl necklace dips into the deep neckline.

You shrug, and there’s a quick, nervous glance back to your door, “Not sure, yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Your smile falls just a bit before you overcompensate and replace it with an even bigger one, but Kyle–too observant for his own good–sees right through you.

“Not a fan of surprises?” Kyle asks before he can stop himself.

“I–”

Your door opens, and Kyle notices the way you jump at the noise. He keeps the smile on his face, but he can feel his jaw tensing as your boyfriend steps out in his crisp black suit and red tie. He ignores Kyle altogether, sliding a hand around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you exchange quiet words before he begins to guide you toward the lift.

You glance over your shoulder, giving Kyle a quick smile. You turn away before he has time to smile back, and Kyle resigns himself to a night alone.

April

He’s gone for a month, but he thinks about you every day.

He tells himself it’s curiosity, that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know the new person living next to him. It’s all purely platonic.

He knows he’s lying.

When he finally returns home, after a draining month of blood and dry sand, he finds himself hoping to see you.

He doesn’t, not for a few days anyway. You don’t appear until he’s coming back from his morning run. He’s walking into the lobby, too busy looking at his phone, just as you’re walking out, too focused on the drink in your hand.

You collide with him, falling into a tangle of limbs and hot coffee. There’s a flurry of apologies from both ends, only worsening when Kyle notices the coffee stain on your cream sweater. You shrug it off, telling him you weren’t going anywhere important anyway, but the guilt is still there.

He knows he should make it up to you, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He offers to bring you up to his place and take one of his sweaters while he cleans yours.

Your face drops into an expression of shock, and worry courses through him, but you shake yourself out of your daze and, surprisingly, you agree.

He tries to ignore the hammering of his heart as he leads you up to his flat. You don’t seem bothered, perhaps a little too trusting, following him inside without comment.

The first thing you do is compliment his home, and Kyle feels shyness creeping up his spine. He points you to his bedroom, telling you to pick anything you want while he waits in the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, trying to soothe the nerves building up in his chest.

This isn’t how he expected his day to go, but he’s not complaining. Not when you’re feet away in his bedroom, looking through his closet so you can wear one of his shirts.

She has a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop it.

No matter how much he bullies himself, Kyle can’t find it in him to care.

“Military, huh?”

Kyle looks up, ready to give some snarky retort, but he sees you wearing that worn grey sweater with his last name faded across the back and his mind stops working.

You stare at him expectantly, clearing your throat as you hold out your ruined sweater. “You alright?”

Kyle snaps out of it, taking the sweater with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He most certainly is not fine and is quick to distract himself by setting your sweater on the counter as he fills a bowl with warm water from the tap. You take a seat at the counter, watching him mix vinegar and dish-washing detergent together with an adorable curiosity.

“I had a cousin in the military,” you speak, leaning your elbows on the counter.

Kyle chuckles, taking a rag and soaking it in the bowl. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “He never had any interesting stories, though.”

Kyle glances up at you, right in time to catch you looking at him with a sly, curious smile on your face.

“I take it you think I do?” he asks, smirk pulling at his lips as he dabs at the coffee stain on your sweater with the damp rag.

“Do you?” You lean forward slightly, eager interest laced in your voice.

If you were anyone else he would say no, shut down the conversation before it could even begin. But you’re not anyone else, and all it takes is one look at those eyes for him to give in.

He keeps things vague and harmless, enough to be interesting for you without revealing any important information or going into gory detail, and you hang on to every word with a refreshing fascination. You ask thoughtful questions, laugh at his cheesy jokes, and listen with an intensity he’s rarely seen, even on base.

You urge him to continue once he’s done, pressing for more, and he’s all too happy to oblige.

You spend the entire day with him, moving from the kitchen to the living room once your sweater is coffee-free. You don’t bother changing out of Kyle’s, far too interested in what he’s saying to consider even a few minutes of distraction.

When the conversation shifts to lighter subjects, neither of you seems to mind. In fact, Kyle offers to make lunch, and you agree with a speed that has both of you laughing.

You’re so easy to talk to, Kyle finds. He would talk to you forever if you allowed it, and he hopes you feel the same. He thinks you do, judging by the way you ignore your phone every time it chimes in favor of continuing your conversation.

Eventually, the sun begins to sink behind the horizon and your phone starts ringing. You roll your eyes, answering with a calm voice despite the way your shoulders tense.

The conversation is short, and you hang up with a huff.

“I should probably get going,” you sigh, offering him an apologetic smile.

“It’s alright,” Kyle shrugs, an easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not like you don’t live right next door.”

You excuse yourself to change back into your sweater and bid him goodbye with a sweet smile that almost has him begging for you to stay.

He finds his sweater folded up on the end of his bed, and his heart aches at the lingering scent of your perfume.

August

In the following months, you and Kyle become close friends.

Almost as close as he and Soap, which is saying something.

When he has to leave again, he lets you know, and you surprise him with a care package of homemade cookies and a letter the day before he leaves. You say it’s from you and your boyfriend, but you both know it isn’t; the man has actively ignored Kyle despite your best efforts to introduce them.

Soap eats most of the cookies, but Kyle doesn’t mind, too enamored with your letter. Your letter is as cute as you are, well wishes for him to come home safe, and carrying the soft scent of your perfume. He reads it almost every night, and Soap has no problem making fun of him for it.

“Some friend, ye got there,” Soap laughs. “Sure that’s all it is?”

Kyle knows what he should say.

She’s seeing someone else. We’re just friends.

But Soap gives him that knowing look, and Kyle knows he can’t continue to lie to himself.

It’s not like you’re happy with him. He’s heard you and your boyfriend fighting through the walls–voices raised, but not quite yelling–and he sees the irritation that causes you to tense when he calls or texts. You don’t smile the same when you’re with him, not like the happy carefree grin you give Kyle.

When the mission is finally finished, and Kyle is granted permission to go home, he’s made up his mind. He’s going to tell you how he feels, and let you decide where to go from there.

Or that was the plan until he knocks on your door and you answer with red eyes, obviously swollen from crying.

You don’t give him a chance to ask what’s wrong, throwing yourself into his arms as you sob into his chest. He guides you into your entryway, closing the door behind him with his boot. He calms and soothes you, cooing soft words and light kisses of comfort into your hair as he runs his hands up and down your back.

He lets you cry as long as you need to, and it takes almost an hour for you to calm down enough to tell him what’s happened.

You had come home from work two days ago to find your boyfriend with another woman in your bed. He used the excuse that you had Kyle, so it was only fair that he got to get some for himself too. You had screamed and yelled and raged, throwing him out that same day as he spewed obscenities at you.

The crying starts again, and Kyle is quick to calm you, assuring you that everything’s going to be alright.

“Didn’t need him anyway,” he huffs.

“Yeah, fuck him,” you pout, and Kyle agrees wholeheartedly.

The wallowing takes its toll on you, cries shifting to a long yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You lean your head on his shoulder, body sagging against the solid weight of him. Kyle urges you to get some sleep, offering to take the couch if you need him there.

“No,” you mumble. “I can’t sleep here. Not in that bed.”

If he were a better man, he’d suggest the couch while he slept on the floor.

Instead, he leads you next door, straight to his bed, where he helps tuck you in. Your eyes shut the moment your head hits the pillow, and something tugs at his heat when you subconsciously curl into his blankets.

He turns to leave and let you have your much-needed rest, but the moment he does, your hand reaches out and wraps around his. You blink at him, eyes wide and sad, and whisper into the room, “Stay.”

And in that moment, Kyle knows he’ll never be able to deny you anything.

December

Kyle insists on taking time for yourself and letting you properly heal before jumping right into things with him.

He’s frustratingly right, and you appreciate his concern for you, but that doesn’t change how much you feel for him.

Your now ex-boyfriend had been right to an extent; you certainly felt things for Kyle you hadn’t felt for him in a long time. Of course, you never acted on those feelings–unlike him–staying close to Kyle while keeping things platonic.

You’d seen it coming for a while, if you were honest with yourself. The new place was a temporary fix, a flimsy band-aid slapped over an ever-growing crack in the glass of an aquarium. You knew you deserved better than his dependency and weaponized incompetence.

You knew the flood was imminent, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

But now he’s gone, and while you know you need time to recover, it’s hard to concentrate when Kyle hands you a key to his flat and tells you you’re welcome anytime.

You try to tell him you’re fine, that the ending of your relationship had been more like a weight lifting from your shoulders, but he insists you take at least two weeks and one therapy visit before making your decision.

You oblige, and you have to admit he knows what he’s talking about. When the two weeks are up, you tell him you need more time, ignoring the smug grin on his face. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t taunt you with an I told you so, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell you he’s proud of you, and you ride the high that gives you all the way to your next therapist visit.

Kyle leaves in the last week of August, letting you spend his last night with him in his bed. He doesn’t make a move on you, simply holding you close while murmuring impossible promises of safety and success to your sleeping form.

It’s agony waiting for him to return, never knowing what could be happening to him while you’re safe and sound in the comfort of his home. The space is good for you, though. It gives you time to process things, to really talk through your emotions and concerns with your wonderfully patient therapist.

You’ve barely been in your own home in the past few months, the anxiety and betrayal that stalks the halls too much for you to handle, and she helps you realize that you need to make some changes.

So, when Kyle returns at the end of November, he finds you in his kitchen, dancing along to a song on your phone as you cook something that smells positively delicious.

He’s content to watch you, welcoming the sight of you after a long and tedious mission.

It’s something he could get used to coming home to.

When you finally notice him, it only takes a second for the realization to hit you before you’re leaping into his arms with an excited cheer. Kyle wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can, welcoming your familiar warmth and scent. He tries to lean forward to tuck his face into your neck, but you stop him, placing your hands on his jaw.

He stares at you curiously, watching your eyes dip down to his mouth before you pull him forward to close the gap. A year’s worth of swallowed emotions pour into the kiss, and when you pull away, Kyle chases after you to kiss you again.

You spend the rest of the night attached to one another. Kyle “helps” you cook, keeping his hands on your hips as he peppers smiling kisses and gentle nips down your neck. You push him away with sweet giggles, but he always comes back seconds later.

When dinner’s done and eaten, he pulls you to the couch into his lap, so he can continue smothering you in kisses. You meet him kiss for kiss, unable to get enough of him. It takes nearly an hour before you’re able to separate yourself from him to give him your news.

“I’m not renewing my lease,” you murmur against his kiss-swollen lips, a shy glance up to look him in his beautiful, brown eyes. “Figured I should look for a new place that isn’t littered with memories of that bastard.”

Kyle hums thoughtfully, trailing kisses along your cheek. “Plenty of room here.”

You click your tongue, laying a hand on his cheek to turn his face to look directly at you. “Kyle–”

“It’s not like that’s not where this was going anyway, right?” He gives you another chaste kiss and a cheeky smile. “You already have a key. Might as well–”

“Make it official?” you laugh.

“Exactly.”

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Fine, you’ve managed to convince me–”

You don’t get to finish, as Kyle cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss.

January

After a long night of celebrating and congratulations from his teammates, Kyle’s girlfriend officially moves in the day after New Year’s.

#gazfest #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #mw fics #moth writes #tw: cheating #private

499 notes · View notes