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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

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The second date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff and that’s about it

A/N: some people asked for a second part so here it is. Maybe I’ll make this into like a mini series type thing!!

Part 1

Steve couldn’t stop smiling as he walked into the tower. He couldn’t wait to see you again but first he knew Sam and Bucky would be waiting to see what happened afterwards. Just as he suspected Sam and Bucky were waiting by the elevators. At least they had the decency to look worried that they ruined everything.

“So?” Bucky asks cautiously.

“So what?” Steve shrugs his shoulders and does his best to look upset.

“Are you going out tomorrow or what?”

Steve just shook his head as he walked toward his apartment. He had to keep his head down to avoid getting caught in his lie. At his apartment door he stops and turns towards his friends.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to be alone tomorrow. Hopefully I can think of a way to fix this.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.” Sam says. “Call us if you want to talk.”

“Ok, night guys.”

Steve walks into his apartment leaving Bucky and Sam at the door. He just hoped it would work.

“We have to fix this.”

“Yeah but how?” Bucky asks as he and Sam walk out to one of the shared living rooms.

“We’ll talk to her on Monday. Let her know it was our idea not Steve’s. I know she likes him too.”

“Ok, but after this I never want to work with you again. You’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot? You should’ve known better, you’re too old to be pulling a stunt like this.”

“You know considering you’re the one that flies, you're a horrible wingman.” Bucky replies.

“I’m a horrible wingman? You’ve known him longer. You’re a horrible friend.”

They continue bickering for a while before they actually sit down and try to figure out what they’re going to tell you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning you found yourself looking at your outfit in the mirror. There was not a hair out of place, your dress was cute and had a 1940’s style to it you even paired it with heels and pearls. The buzzer goes off right on time. You grab your purse and head out the door.

“You look beautiful.” Are the first words out of Steve’s mouth when he sees you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome yourself.”

His cheeks flush pink but he smiles anyway. He’s dressed in a black three piece suit with a white button up shirt and a blue tie that just so happens to match his eyes. His hair was slicked back the same way he used it when he first woke up from the ice.

“Shall we?” He offers you his arm and you take it.

“We shall.”

****

The park that was holding the big band music festival felt like stepping back in time. Most of the crowd was dressed to impress. Women wore dresses and heels, some even had on gloves and hats. Men wore suits or something more along the lines of 30s/40s streetwear. There were stalls everywhere and a stage at the center accompanied by a dance floor. The best part was that no one really seemed to notice Steve or wanted a picture with him. He relaxed the further into the park he went.

“So what would you like to do first?” Steve asks as he looks around.

“I don��t know, this is your area of expertise.”

“Ok,” Steve looked around unsure of where to start just as the band began to play a slower song. “How about we start with a dance?”

“I’d love that.”

Steve leads you to the dance floor. One hand goes to your waist while the other holds your hand. Your free hand holds on to his shoulder and he begins to lead you in a slow dance. The look in his eyes is soft, sweet and almost loving. Steve holds you close while he rests his cheek against your temple and hims along to the song. A content sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes.

“This is a much better date.” You whisper and can feel him chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

You smile up at him when he pulls back to look at you. Then he spins you and dips you. When Steve pulls you back up your lips are almost touching. You smile and close the very minuscule distance. Steve is taken by surprise but it doesn't take him long to kiss you back.

Both of you have matching smiles as the date goes on. You stop to look around the stalls and what was being sold and even buy some records. Including one that had the song you first danced to with Steve. Ever the gentleman he offers to carry your bags. You get some snacks that were popular in his time and he really opens up by telling you stories of his childhood and his mom.

By the end of the afternoon you’re sharing a booth at a diner. Steve sat beside you instead of across, his arm was thrown across the back of the booth and his attention was all on you as you spoke.

“Oh I meant to ask earlier. How did you get out dressed like this without Sam or Bucky noticing?”

“Well I actually set it up last night. I told them that I wanted to be myself today to think of a way to make things right with you.” Steve says with a rather proud look on his face.

“You, Steven Rogers, lied?”

“Yup. It was not easy.”

You giggled. “Do you think they’ll try to talk to me on Monday so they can fix it?”

“Oh absolutely.”

~~~~~~~~

On Monday morning you’re busy with meetings and texting Steve in between them. When you get to your office a smile appears on your lips. On the desk is a beautiful floral arrangement, the card attached to it just says see you at noon and Steve’s initials at the bottom.

You look at your watch and realize you only have a few minutes before Steve stops by. After putting away the meeting documents and the tablet you normally use you grab a small mirror you keep in your desk and check your appearance. There’s a knock on your door and you allow whoever it is to come in.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing?” Bucky says, he flashes you a reserved smile.

“Do you have a minute?” Sam asks as he closes the door in order to have some privacy.

“Actually I am going out but I can schedule a meeting for later today.”

“We just wanted to let you know that the whole earpiece thing was not Steve’s idea. He’s a really great guy and I know he really likes you.”

“Oh ok.” You say as you grab your purse and start heading out. You’re trying to hide your smile as you head toward the door.

“Seriously Y/N,” Sam adds. “He didn’t really want to do it, we just didn’t give him much of a choice.”

“Ok.” You say as you open the door. Steve is standing right there and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“Ready to go?”

“I am if you are.”

“Well let’s go then.” He kisses your cheek before offering you his arm. “See you guys at training later.” He says over his shoulder.

Sam and Bucky stood there completely speechless, a first for the duo.

“When did this happen?”

“We went out Saturday.”

“To the music festival?” Bucky shouts the question.

“Yup.”

“Steve you little shit!”

“I can write you up for that Barnes.” You say as you turn to look at them. With a laugh you wink in their direction and get lost in the crowd as Steve leads you out of the building for your lunch date.

Part 3

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just-j-really · 8 months

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Unsoulmates part four (a new hope)

Masterpost

Hob texts Morpheus two days after he and Audrey break up, because he's got two tickets to a ballet and absolutely no use for them anymore. He'd offered them to Gwen, first, but her girlfriend (her soulmate, actually, her soulmate she'd met at a Ren Faire in a moment out of a fairytale, complete with a kiss-print soulmark on the back of her hand) has even less interest in ballet than Hob does. And he knows bringing it up to any of his other friends will only get him concerned questions about why he keeps doing this to himself, wouldn't he be happier if he stopped actively avoiding his One True Love.

So offering them to Morpheus, who hasn't spoken to him in a month but probably won't do that, is the best option by default.

Shockingly, Morpheus replies. He even offers to meet Hob at the White Horse, a pub they'd frequented back when they were still sort of talking, to pick up the tickets.

Even more shockingly, Morpheus is already at a table when Hob arrives at the pub four nights later, like he's planning to sit and talk with Hob. Like before.

Hob is not entirely sure how he feels about that, but he's also running on maybe three hours of sleep, and the chair next to Morpheus looks extremely inviting, so he lets himself topple into it.

"If you ask me how I'm doing I'm going to get up and leave," he warns Morpheus, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. He might just take a nap here. It's been impossible to fall asleep, these past few days, without the warmth of someone else in bed with him. And it's so easy, lying there with the tangible reminder of how alone he is, to let his thoughts spiral into why didn't she stay why didn't she even consider it wasn't it worth it?

But here, with the warmth and the noise of people around him and this unbelievably comfortable armchair, an uneasy half-doze starts to overtake him. He's drifting, wondering where in the world Morpheus found an armchair, when a soft tapping noise drags him back to reality.

When he opens his eyes, Morpheus is sliding a beer across the table to him. He doesn't say anything, just looks at Hob levelly, and Hob thinks that's why, why he opens his mouth to say thanks, what comes out instead is a cracking, "Do you know what it's like, having people congratulate you for having your heart ripped out?"

His voice sounds even worse than he feels.

Morpheus inclines his head at Hob in that familiar little nod; go on, I'm listening.

It's a small kindness, but it still makes Hob feel like his chest is cracking in half.

"Everyone acts like it's fine. Like it's a good thing. 'Yeah it hurts now but at least you'll stop wasting your life, at least now you'll find the person you were meant for.'"

He takes a breath. Takes a drink. "Nevermind that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

And then the whole story is spilling out of him, in an out-of-order slurry: the moment it happened- Audrey gesturing wildly as they ducked through the concert crowd, hand in hand; her stunned little gasp as her arm bumped another emphatic gesture-er; they way he'd stood there, confused, still holding Audrey's hand, while she and her soulmate stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The way she'd yes-anded even his stupidest bits, the way they'd had their own shared language of in-jokes, the way conversations with her were a dance and she always knew the next step.

The way, within a week, she'd scrubbed herself out of his life entirely, like she needed to fake her death to start her new life with The One.

"And- and I knew marriage wasn't happening, right?" he finds himself saying, some time and several drinks later. "Fuckin nobody marries their not-soulmate, which is STUPID. It's so stupid, remind me to tell you how stupid it is. But I thought. I thought we- I thought there was something. Something good. I thought maybe we could last."

The sentence gets much too wobbly at the end, and Hob swipes a hand roughly over his eyes.

"What did you want, then?" Morpheus asks.

Hob glares at him.

"If not marriage," Morpheus says, as though clarity were the problem there. He seems... sincere, though. Like he's actually asking the question, not trying to nudge Hob into an epiphany about the futility of his life goals. Hob's heard the second thing enough to know what it sounds like. And Morpheus has that- look, on his face. The Hob-is-an-insect look, but not. It's... it's like if that look were kinder, more genuine. More vulnerable.

So for what may be the first time, when asked that question, Hob actually considers his answer before responding. "I dunno what I wanted," he says. "I just want- I want someone to choose me. Not have me forced on them."

Morpheus stares at him. Studies him. As though the secret of life itself has somehow been hidden in Hob's face.

Hob stares back, pinned. Entranced. A little confused.

"You know," he says, after a moment, "I'm not actually a bug."

Morpheus sighs. "Come on," he says, "Let's get you home."

Despite Hob's insistence that he is fine, really, just a little tipsy and a lot heartsick and sleep deprived, Morpheus does walk him home.

Hob only remembers the tickets when they reach his building, and only then someone had stuck a sticker of a dancer to the back of a lamppost. "Here," he says, rooting around in his jacket pocket until he finds the envelope, and handing it over, "At least someone will get use out of them."

Morpheus stares at the envelope like he's never seen one before.

When he looks up at Hob, his eyes are glistening with tears. "Are you," he asks, quietly. He pauses for a long time, long enough that Hob starts to wonder if he'd handed over the wrong envelope, and then wonder what deeply tragic envelopes he could possibly have been carrying around.

"Are you going to look for your soulmate now?" Morpheus asks. His voice is as even, almost soothing, as ever.

He's looking at Hob as though the wrong answer will be his death sentence.

"Are you kidding me?" Hob asks. Despite everything, he finds himself grinning. "Never. The love of my life is out there, somewhere, I'm not going to discount them for something stupid like soulmates."

Morpheus smiles.

Truly smiles, for the first time that Hob has seen. It's a lovely expression, soft, hesitant, but so genuinely, contagiously delighted. And Hob knows, with the same bone-deep certainty as his disbelief in soulmates, that he'd protect that smile at all costs.

"Also," he says, because there's not much protection he can offer right not but there is always the shining, thrilling possibility of coaxing another smile out of Morpheus tonight, "I'm starving. Do you want to get dinner?"

#dreamling #unsoulmates au #my fic #an earlier draft referred to Morpheus' smile as 'the stray kitten of facial expressions' and while that is an objectively true descriptor #it is not the one Hob would use in that moment

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neewtmas · 1 year

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Jealous // Part I

A/N: finally managed to write a part II to this

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

masterlist

The only source of light that illuminates the kitchen are a couple of almost burned down candles on the table, their flickering light sending shadows dancing over the tablecloth and the kitchen cabinets. I stare at the indents my nail makes as I drag it over the cloth, again and again, in a never-ending circle. The quiet clanking of metal against porcelain tells me that George is still stirring his tea. It must be cold by now.

“When do you think they’ll be back?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the table. Silence. George has stopped stirring, and I know he’s rubbing his eyes behind his glasses like he does every time he’s tired and stressed. “I don’t know.”

I let my eyes wander over to the old clock that hangs on the wall right next to the door that leads into the hallway. The larger, slightly crooked hand has almost reached the top, telling me it’s nearing 4 am. Usually Lockwood and Lucy aren’t out that late, especially not when the case they had set out to solve was such a minor one. Or seemed like it on paper. George and I had been back since shortly after 1 am, the case we had to solve being simple in every sense of the word.

Since then, we had slowly run out of things to talk about, and I had given up on racking my brain for further conversation topics. That’s not usual at all for us, just a few weeks ago we would have never sat in silence for that long. Except when reading and researching in the library maybe. We had been what you could call a team from the day I started my employment at Lockwood & Co, mostly brought together by the fact that half the time, Lockwood and Lucy just had a dynamic that made one feel like they were intruding on something.

It took some time for George to warm up to me, but I thought he considered me his friend by now. Yet here we were, sitting in silence in the dimly lit kitchen, avoiding looking at each other. I wish I knew what had cause this shift between us, but I don’t have any time to ruminate over it. The sound of the front door opening and falling shut and boots on the creaky floorboards make me perk up. George’s eyes briefly meet mine before the kitchen door flies open and Lockwood steps into the room, followed closely by Lucy. They seem exhausted, but uninjured.

Lockwood plops down on a chair, still in his coat, and lets out a big sigh. “Tea”, is all he says, while Lucy scoots next to me on the bench. George gets up without a word, pours two cups from the kettle on the stove and comes back to the table to put them down in front of Lockwood and Lucy, much more forceful than needed. The cup leaves a stain on the cloth as Lockwood raises it to his lips to take a sip, and immediately spits it out again. “Now that’s actually disgusting”, he grimaces, putting down the cup. “Yes, because it’s been on the stove for three hours”, George snaps. “Where the hell have you been?!”. Lockwood raises his arms in defence, evidently surprised by George’s intense reaction. “Calm down, everything’s fine. We had an issue with the cab and couldn’t find a new one, so it took a little longer than usual.” He gives George one of his charming smiles that is sure to diffuse any tense situation, but George seems immune to it today. “Well thanks to you I had to sit here for three hours, wasting my time!” He rises from his seat, clearly agitated. “Don’t expect me to be up early tomorrow.” With that he leaves the room, not sparing any of us another glance. No one says a word, until somewhere in the house, a door shuts loudly. “Phew, someone’s in a bad mood”, Lockwood chuckles as he gets up to prepare a new kettle. “What’s gotten into him? Did your case go wrong?”

I shrug, feeling somewhat deflated. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the fact that George just spent three hours with me only to leave and call it a waste of time stings pretty badly. “I don’t know”, I say weakly, “He hasn’t really talked to me at all today.” Lucy looks at me quizzically. “All week, actually”, I add, and cringe at how pathetically small my voice sounds. We stay silent for a while, until the tea was ready. “Do you know of anything that might have upset him?”, Lucy asks, smiling at Lockwood who hands her the first cup of tea he poured. He sets one down in front of me as well, before he resumes his place on the chair, his own steaming cup in hand.

I search my brain, for something, anything, but I come up empty. “I have no idea. Everything was fine a couple of days ago.” I stare at the cup in front of me. Lucy goes to drop in a sugar cube, stirs it a couple of times and hands it to me. “Since when exactly is he acting like that?”, she asks, and I take a sip. The hot tea burns my lips and tongue and my throat on the way down and distracts me as I try to recall the events of last week.

“I guess since the last time we were at the library, last Thursday”, I say. “What happened there?” Lucy asks again, and I continue. “That’s the thing, nothing. We were just at our usual table, doing our usual stuff, nothing special. Kipps and his crew stopped by for a few minutes and were annoying, but that’s really the most exciting thing that happened.” Lucy sits up straighter, clearly interested now. “Did Kipps do anything?”

“No. He just introduced the newest member of his team to us, but I don’t recall his name. Joe? Or Jonas?” Lockwood huffs, annoyed just like every time we talk about Kipps and his team. “Johnathan. I’ve seen him once, seems about as incompetent as the rest of them.”

I nod. “Right. Well, when I went to bring back a book, I ran into him, and he asked me out on a coffee date.” Lucy gasps, and Lockwood leans forward, waiting for me to continue. “Did you say yes?”, Lucy asks urgently, and I can’t tell what she wants the answer to be. I shake my head incredulously. “Obviously not. Well anyways, a while later we pack up our stuff, and on the way out, we walk past their table. And he yells after me ‘don’t forget our date, sweetheart!’. When we were outside, George asked me what that was about, and I just told him he asked me out earlier.”

Lucy covers her mouth with her hand and stares at me, wide-eyed. “Did you also tell him you said no?!”

I shake my head. “I kinda thought that was implied”, I say, twiddling with my fingers. Lockwood laughs, and I just look at him in confusion. “Nothing implied that”, he says, raising his eyebrows. “Poor Georgie thinks your going on a date, and that’s why his mood is so sour. He’s jealous!”

My face heats up, and I can just tell I’m scarlet right now. “Why would he be jealous?”, I mumble, embarrassed. “Well, that’s easy to answer”, Lucy chuckles. My cheeks burn at the implications of her words. George? Jealous? Never in a million years would I have come to that conclusion. “But then why would he just stop talking to me?”, I ask, exasperated because Lockwood and Lucy seem to enjoy my embarrassment a little too much.

“Because it’s George”, Lockwood simply says. “That’s what he does.” A smile tugs at his lips. “I suggest we go to sleep now. Maybe you’ll have a nice dream about your lover boy.” I think my head is about to explode, and I’m not sure which one he is talking about. I look over to Lucy for help, but she just bites her lip to keep from bursting out laughing. “Lockwood is right”, she manages to say, before she can’t hold her laughter anymore. I hurry out of the kitchen, face beet red.

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood #george karim #george cubbins #lucy #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george x reader #george karim x reader

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flownwrong · 1 year

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expectations (a due south fic)

F/K, 1.5k words, additional tags: first kiss, stupid phone conversations, drama over a duffel bag

I'll tell you what I told ao3:

"My writing hit a wall a while back. To deal with it, I decided I'd write the only way I can now—short fic I can seat-of-my-pants in one day. A piece for each ship/fandom/idea where I have wips or thoughts that I can't make into actual works. This is the first one.

Thanks to @nigeltde-fic for dragging me down with this ship, and generally being a champion. <3”"

read on ao3

Maybe it really is a damn Groundhog Day type situation. Only twice as boring and nobody gets the girl, like, ever.

One thing he never pictured when he thought of the after-fraser-life, which he didn’t do very often, or, well, maybe he did, but he didn’t like doing it, point being—one thing he didn’t imagine was that it would be the same. As in, poof, never happened, must have daydreamed it, off you go, Stanley, play well with the boys.

And, well, it isn’t really a never-happened kinda deal, because Fraser, he just lives in a pocket in Ray’s head now, twenty-four-literal-seven, like friends do, you know, or something close. And what with Vecchio and Stella fucking off to Florida and Frannie doing her thing all while they were still doing the big adventure stuff, between all that it’s hard to not notice the change. But other than that—it’s the same job, the same desk (his desk, The Kowalski Desk), the same bottle in the cabinet above the sink and the same—the inside of his head is the same, too, giving him trouble like always.

The way they left things—if that’s even what happened, left things, huh—it’s not what he feared. Not what he expected, either—and it took him many, many frozen-through adrenaline-drunk days to put a finger on it, that there was an expectation. And now back here, it’s like one of those tip-of-the-tongue moments he’s so familiar with, only with that expectation; it circles him all predatory with every lonely shuffle around his dance-apartment-floor and every stupid late night reruns session and every finger of drink he takes with that, and then it wafts away on the wind, leaving him feeling like he missed a step and twisted his ankle. Which is kinda stupid, when you come to think of it, since it looks like all his worst-case scenarios solved themselves and left him with a cushy little offering while he was playing explorer, and wasn’t that what it was all about.

And maybe it wasn’t, because Fraser calls, like he does, which floors Ray a little every single time for reasons he can’t even begin to articulate, he calls on a Friday and brings him up to speed on Dief’s aversion to the nearest Tim Hortons (nearest being a few hours’ trip to Yellowknife) because quote he says it’s cheating and Chicago ones tasted better and frankly it’s insulting end quote and how you pay and pay and pay and how he fixed up the cabin now and the second bed is new and really much better than the one Ray had to deal with up there, he made sure of that (felled the best tree he could find, Ray wagers), and Ray finds himself nodding and humming and gripping the stupid station handset, knuckles gone white, biting his cheek, hell if he knows why, not like his smile could do any damage at this point. “There isn’t a waiting list for that bed, is there?” he says, no reservations worth stopping for. And, “no,” says Fraser, and there’s that expectation, clarion as you please, ten-four, roger that. “Greatness,” Ray says, and hangs up, and does a little shimmy he’s not even ashamed of.

And then Fraser doesn’t call for three weeks, in which Ray is very productive, managing to vent drunkenly at Turtle who looks so unimpressed Ray thinks he actually hears him sigh, pack the bag, unpack the bag, consider terminating the lease, call in with Welsh then come in anyway, chase the latest case into almost three whole days awake and get sent away by Welsh anyway once the Bonnie and Clyde of small-time food truck GTA are locked up, pick up the phone roughly thirty-seven times, put it down thirty-six, and that last time, Fraser picks up and calls out for him softly and he’s too much of a chicken to do it back. Where exactly they tripped in a dance Ray felt resonate in his bones, he can’t guess.

Week four, Fraser calls, only it’s Ray’s doorbell that rings this time, and he picks himself up faster than he would the phone.

“Fraser,” he says first, then swings the door open, “Frase,” gripping his wrists way too tight, “what in god’s name was that—scratch that, don’t say, one thing it was is not buddies.”

“I don’t see what you mean, Ray,” Fraser says, and it’s supposed to make him angry, this far in, only this time Fraser is wrapped up in a soft green-gray flannel instead of the red walking coffin and he has his beat-up bag and the stupid hat on, so even Ray can see through the reflex of it. Fraser tugs gently at him. “Ah, Ray, if you could just let me put my bag down—thank you kindly.’

“You do, Frase, I know you do.” He lets Fraser’s wrists go for half a second it takes for the bag to thud onto the floor—other side of the threshold, damn it—and not a moment longer. “Did you come to stand outside my home and bullshit me?”

“Yes. I mean, not for that, no, but yes, I forgot about—oh, darn,” he says and tugs one hand free to take his stetson off, which is how you know, if you’re Ray, things are afoot. Big things. Momentary events in history. So when Fraser steps one foot in and leans back against the doorjamb and pulls him near—with hands snaking under his arms to land just below his shoulder blades, one half of a hug not yet given, a freakish way only Fraser would go with, which fires Ray up instantly, heat flooding his face like a punch he has to close his eyes against—when that’s done, Ray can find his mouth blind he’s so ready.

“You’re off,” he mumbles, because Fraser is the one with eyes open and he still landed somewhere around where Ray’s lips turn into his cheek, and then only corrected half an inch down, catching the corner of his open-eager mouth.

Fraser presses a kiss there, with intent. “Not,” he says, and then, then he hits the bullseye, fucking A, bingo, job done, you get a sticker—or a mouthful of tongue, because that’s faster where they stand.

“Momentous,” Fraser says into Ray’s hair, some breathless minutes later, and Ray says, “wha—’ and Fraser says, “you said, or rather mouthed, something about momentary events, if my memory serves—well, it must, it’s only been three minutes. I suppose you meant momentous, given the context.”

“Jesus, Shakespeare, come the fuck in, what do I have to offer to get you both feet inside.”

Fraser straightens but doesn’t move an inch to displace Ray where he’s giving him the second half of a hug. “Well, Ray, I didn’t mean to stay, per se.”

Ray disentangles them and tugs at the lapels of Fraser’s really very soft shirt, whenever he’s grabbed those, huh. He blinks once, twice, and thinks about how many bottles he will have to get for that cabinet now, because fucking hell. The bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to rub at his eyebrow, so to him it all makes sense somehow. He looks down and frowns.

“What’s with the bag?”

When he looks back up, Fraser smiles, an honest to god I’m-back-in-ten-foot-snow-and-alive-again grin, eyes kind of superglued to Ray’s face. “Promised Dief to get some of those Chicago donuts, which are, apparently ‘the right kind’.”

Ray steps back, shoves at Fraser’s chest, no way-like, and folds in two with laughter. Fraser looks at him all affectionate, and the absurdity is so familiar it gives Ray a headrush. Or maybe that’s all the wheezing he's doing.

“A bag? A whole bag of donuts?”

Fraser gets this look where his eyes get all liquid and light, and now that Ray’s got the manual he knows that translates to scared and hopeful in downright unhealthy measures. “I didn’t count on being back to Chicago soon.”

Ray can feel he’s doing the superglue thing now, too.

Fraser clears his throat. “Oh dear. Unless—I didn’t mean to presume, it’s only that on the phone—”

Ray cuts him off in a voice that’s too rough to seize the reins of, so it will probably break in there somewhere but it’s all a-okay now, isn’t it—says, “You’ll have to get in here, Frase. I think I’ll want some pants with my donuts, and I’m now in the bag-unpacked phase—uh, anyway.”

He heads inside and hears Fraser shut the door and toe off his boots.

So maybe there was no tripping after all. Just Fraser and his insane moves Ray always learns, dancing skills be damned. Good thing he isn’t Bill Murray—would be awkward to explain this to the girl.

#my writing #fic #due south #jesus i'm so tired of not writing #or writing and stopping one third in because i suck at storytelling or even figuring out my own theme #or writing and hating every sentence #or writing and knowing fast-and-sloppy writing is the only kind i can finish #or being so cringed out with my words once i finish that i can't stomach the idea of anyone's eyes on it #let alone any kind of beta so i cut off the avenues of getting critique and getting better #or writing and feeling like i'm forcing people to read #i don't believe in writer's block but i believe in shitty life circumstances and mental health issues #so there's that #if you read this whole vent i thank you and hope you at least enjoy the fic to make up for it #f/k #due south fic #fraser/rayk #fraser/kowalski

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indignantlemur · 8 months

Note

Thank you so much, I do have follow up questions ^_^

1) how did those early conversations go? “What do pinkskins do for sports?” “You strap knives to your shoes and do what now?” (Maybe? I just feel like Dagmar would bring up winter sports first in an effort to be relatable? You’re the writer, do what you will)

2) what does Andorian dance look like? Historically, currently? do clans compete (any comparison to Highland Games)? Groups? Weddings? Siblings? Any Taboos? Anything you can think of :))

Hello again! <3

I suspect the initial introductions to Terran sports started out casually. Humans making friends, as they do, and doing friendly things like inviting them to attend sporting events - football, lacrosse, hockey, volley ball, snowboarding, rugby, what-have-you. This inevitably leads to a very confused alien asking about the rules, and from there the indoctrination begins! 😆

(1) I fully intend to have Dagmar bring up some uniquely Norwegian and Canadian sports at some point, probably when the gang is all back on Earth again. Dagmar's not really a sports person, per se, but her mother and little brother were and she often got dragged along to events regardless of her own preferences on the matter. You could say she learned the rules of lacrosse and hockey largely involuntarily, really.

(2) While I haven't fully fleshed out all of the details, my Andorians do dance, contrary to the impression that they like to give outsiders, but only very rarely and it's almost always centered around specific traditions and rites. It's considered a private thing meant for family and spouses, and therefore deeply personal - so much so that most Andorians will outright deny that such an activity ever takes place rather than discuss the matter with strangers. Andorians who are reasonably well acquainted with aliens, such as Thelen is with Dagmar, will understand that other species view the activity rather differently and of those Andorians many will often separate the two 'kinds' of dancing mentally. Thus, when Thelen learns from Dagmar he can truthfully say that he is not violating a cultural taboo; he is merely indulging an alien friend's equally alien customs.

When it is permitted, Andorian dances are surprising. This is one of the times where I get to bring in some of that insectoid ancestry that Andorians have and actually apply is sensibly. Drawing inspiration from bees (and stick bugs somewhat), I imagine that the steps are recreations of old migration paths, important battles, and other historical events, each one unique to a Clan and interpreted with heavy artistic license. Swaying, lunging, twisting, leaping, gliding, rising and falling and rising again - the pacing varies, but there is one consistent element: a heart-beat pattern. The measure of each dance is always based on the pattern of an Andorian's heartbeat, the timing quickened or slowed as needed in each 'scene' depicted; one might be frenzied and erratic, the other steady and even, and yet another might shift between the two extremes.

Andorians will dance to celebrate ancient religious rites, new births, and, yes, sometimes even weddings. During weddings, it's usually done after getting outrageously drunk - and usually results in at least one person making an absolute fool of themselves. As long as nothing too untoward happens, most folks let the behaviour slide as 'high spirits' and leave it at that.

One idea that I'm extremely fond of it the idea of the First Dance. After an Andorian child is born, one of the parents will hold the child and map out the progression of Andoria around their solar system in slow, ponderous steps, evenly paced like the steady orbit of their homeworld. When the entire quad is present, the three non-birthing spouses will take turns guiding the child through the First Dance, or move in a kind of relay-race with one switching out and one swapping in while the third waits their turn, rotating through each role until the dance is complete.

The First Dance was once a kind of portent for the child, with numerous outcomes derived from the the slightest of stumbles, the barest of missteps, and whether or not the parent(s) guiding the child took the correct number of steps, or more, or less. In modern times, it is an old tradition kept more out of fondness than anything else, with much of the weight once placed upon its meaning shifting to be an act of profound love and welcome.

As time progresses and Andorians as a whole become exposed to more and more alien cultures, I fully expect their natural reserve to lessen somewhat as new ideas are slowly, cautiously embraced and then eventually adapted to suit their culture.

#star trek #emigre by indignantlemur #andorian #andorians #headcanon #Andorians and dancing #Andorians and sports

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petersbaby · 2 years

Text

Cold - Eddie Munson x reader

Part two ♡

Part one / Part three

Warnings: demeaning language (use of words like “whore”), violence (not domestic)

A/N: I’m going ham with these I just wrote 5 parts

“Yeah, I was gonna fuck her but she bailed on me. Shes such a tease, she definitely does that a lot.”

“I heard she’s fucked a ton of guys from this school, maybe it was just you, man” another boy joked and the rest of them laughed.

Eddie had been listening from around the corner to the jocks talking about you that next Monday. When he looks at them, he matches the voice to the person, reading the number on the back of the guy’s jersey and putting that in a folder in his brain so he won’t forget. 07.

At lunch, you sat with a couple of your friends. They didn’t ask about the party, and they likely had no clue something had happened to you as they were all too focused on the guys they danced and hooked up with. You felt okay, not nearly as bad as you would have if you’d been left alone that night. Eddie was all you could think about, like your knight in shining armor.

You keep remembering it. It felt so right. You missed him, but since then, you hadn’t spoken, and you weren’t sure what it was between you two if anything.

After school, Eddie sat on his table in the woods waiting for the plan to come together. It all fell into place when that asshole guy #7 coincidentally asked him if he could get some weed. He had no idea about Eddie’s prior eavesdropping, or even that Eddie harbored a hatred for him. They normally just stay out of each other’s ways, but he couldn’t just look past this.

It was too perfect, so he told him to meet at his spot in the woods. This wasn’t something unusual, he met everybody there, so the guy agreed. Eddie heard crunching leaves under footsteps and the guy was right there in front of him. He had messy blonde hair, freckles, and eyes that had an evilness in them beyond the blue. “Let’s make it quick, okay? I don’t have all day.” The boy said as he approached Eddie with a $20 bill in his hand.

Eddie stood up and closed the distance to meet him face-to-face. Eddie was a couple inches shorter than the boy in front of him, but he wasn’t afraid in any way.

“Back up, freak. What are you, gay or something?”

Eddie just laughs. Once he laughs like that, there’s no going back. Only forward, only violently. Before he knew what hit him, the jock’s face was met with a hard blow, metal rings on tanned skin. He fell backwards, landing on his ass on the ground, a bit of blood starting to drip from his nostril.

“What the fuck?” Is all he could get out.

“Keep her fucking name out of your mouth, you piece of shit. Don’t say another goddamn word about her to your little friends. Actually, don’t ever even do much as LOOK in her direction.”

“What, all of a sudden you’re in love with one of the biggest whores at Hawkins?” He sneered. Another blow, this time a white Reebok sneaker kicking him in the face, hard.

“I know what you did to her. She didn’t fucking want you.” Eddie asserts, towering over the boy on the ground.

“I didn’t do anything, I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s all yours, though. Have fun with that.” He spits out blood from his mouth and stumbles to stand up, hurrying his way back to the parking lot. Eddie snatches the money that had dropped on the ground, pockets it, and hangs back for a few minutes as to not be seen with the bloody man.

That night, he heard a knock at his door. To his surprise, he sees you. Standing on his doorstep in an even cuter outfit than the one you’d been wearing at school hours earlier with a teddy bear hanging in your grasp. He steps outside, since his uncle is home and trying to sleep.

“Who ya got there?” He looks down at the stuffed animal then back up at you.

“I dunno. You have to name him, he’s for you.”

Eddie chuckles slightly. “Why?”

“I saw him practically stumbling to get into his car earlier. You fucked him up good.” You smile.

He takes it from your hands as you offer the brown bear to him. “Well, thank you. But it wasn’t a problem, really.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you around, okay?” You ask, starting to leave.

“Wait.” He calls. “Uhh, shit. Hold on one second.” He goes inside briefly and emerges with a black sharpie.

“Can I maybe… get your number?”

“Sure”, you giggle, “where do I-“

He pays his pockets as if he might magically have paper in there but he doesn’t so he offers you his forearm instead. You grab his wrist to steady it and write your phone number on his pale skin. This time, you turn to leave and actually leave. He goes back inside to his room, teddy in hand. He looks at it, how soft it is and how it was almost as sweet as you were. He’d never gotten such a gift before and it meant the world and more to him.

After you got home and did your homework, you took a shower and changed into your pajamas to get cozy for the night. Your hair was damp, your skin covered in lotion, the day’s makeup long washed away when you hear the phone ring. You jump initially, but then remember you gave him the number so you head over to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Hey. This is gonna sound crazy.” The familiar voice of Eddie’s started. “But i wanted to ask if you’d maybe want to go out. With me. But it’s uh- it’s okay if-“ he starts to ramble nervously.

“I would.” You could practically hear the smile in your voice, so sweet.

“Oh, okay. Cool. Maybe we can go to the diner? Tomorrow after school?”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you serious? There’s no way.” You ask between laughs.

“Yep. It was embarrassingly easy. Embarrassing for him, I mean. Supposedly some kind of world class athlete but cowered down once the weird kid hit him just once.”

He tells you the story over and over again, it was the most amazing thing you’d ever heard and it brought a smile to your face so Eddie could talk about it to you all day. He fixes his eyes on the dimples that form on your cheeks when you smile while he sips a chocolate milkshake.

“The look on his face, I swear, it was great. In that moment, I’m convinced he would’ve done anything I told him to.” Eddie brags.

“Wait, what did you tell him to do?” You tilt your head, not having really heard much about that part yet.

“Oh. Uhh. I just told him to leave you alone, pretty much.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said- what he said about you wasn’t nice, it was bullshit. I’m not gonna repeat it to you.”

The diner surrounding you was relatively empty, and it felt like the two of you were in a movie. The only thing you saw was the person sitting in the booth across from you and nothing else mattered.

You swirled your straw around in your cup, mixing the strawberry milkshake mindlessly.

“I’m a whore, right?”

“Wha- what??” He blurts out, almost choking.

“That’s what he said about me. I know it is.” You say, shrugging.

“Well, yeah… but… I know that isn’t true. Like I said, it’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

You knew that the only reason guys would call you that is because they wanted what they couldn’t get; which was for you to sleep with them. You were somehow a slut and a tease at the same time, high school logic, you suppose.

You’d stayed at the restaurant til the sun went down, talking easily for at least two hours.

“Oh, shit” he remarks once he finally looks away from you and out of the window. “I should get you home, huh?”

“Hmm,” you muse, grabbing his hand and pulling it closer to you to read the time on his watch. “Not yet. We can hang out a while longer, unless of course you don’t want to…” you propose, not letting go of his hand when you look back up at him. You had over an hour before you were supposed to be home.

He has a goofy little smile plastered on his face. He almost forgets to answer you out loud.

“No, of course I want to. Where do you want to go? I think they’ll probably kick us out of here soon.” He says, gesturing towards the grumpy lady behind the counter.

“I know a spot. I can give you directions?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic

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legendofmorons · 1 year

Text

How to get adopted in ten steps (or less!) - Part three

Pairing: Chain & oc

Rating : G

Summary: Myrah takes time to reassure Wild and Legend separately, and for better or worse she shares some tea with the latter. Legend still doesn't kn ow what to make of the woman and it bothers him.

Warnings: spying,

Other: For lack of any canon material to help I've made certain words for the Gerudo language, 'Kiventa' is equivalent to 'dear one' or 'darling' used for friends, family, and lovers alike.

-------

Legend doesn't trust strangers. He sure as he'll dosen’t trust Myrah who claims to he over a centuries old despite looking maybe twenty.

So, obviously, snooping is the answer. With all the others in their rooms for the night Legend goes to see what Myrah and Wild are talking about in her house during the nights.

Settled outside the open window, Legend watches and listens.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're more than just your destiny? When will you believe me?" Myrah asks, sitting at the kitchen table with a tired expression.

Wild shakes his head, firelight from the fireplace on the back wall dances across his feature. "I'm the chosen Hero."

"No. You're Link. You are a stubborn boy with a good heart."

"Myrah." Wild says, his own voice tired.

"Look, do you have the hero's spirit? Yes. Are you the best cook I've ever known? Also yes."

"Myrah I don't even remember my family. I'm just the hero."

Myrah pulls the most exhausted disappointed look Legend has seen on anyone except Time. And honestly- this comes pretty close.

"Link, if I could actually shake sense into you I would."

"Thanks. I feel the love."

"Good, because I do love you. But you're the most stubborn person I've ever known."

"That tracks."

"You are more than just Hylia's hero. You're a great cook, a good archer, a hell of a friend, and one of the most genuinely kind people I've ever met."

"Thanks." Wild says, ducking his head away from Myrah. His own heart swelling at the ride.

Legend - He may not feel trusting or even hopeful about Myrah, but he can appreciate the way she speaks to Wild. The soft affirmation is always welcome to the others.

"Anytime. You know I'm always here for you."

"I know... But don't you miss him?"

"Who?"

"Who I used to be?"

"Yes and no." Myrah says with a sad smile, "I miss him because I grew up with him. But I lost you to being a knight too. You're more like the boy I grew up with than he was."

Wild looks up, eyes widening and a surprised sound leaving his throat. "I am?"

"You are."

"How?"

"We used to chase frogs and fish in the stream... You know you're the one who taught me to make a grass whistle first?"

"Oh."

"I wish I could get the others to understand that they're more than just the chosen heroes too."

Legend nearly chokes. This woman is something else.

"You know they won't. "

"They might... It'll take a lot but there's was a time not too long ago I thought all I could ever be was a warrior, a weapon."

"You know that's not true.

"I didn't used to."

"Myrah," Wild starts, only to fall silent. What does he even say.

"The weight each of you puts on your own shoulders rivals that of your destiny. You all bear too much shame and guilt."

"I know."

"I hope you do."

Myrah turns her gaze to the window Legend is spying into, and she holds his gaze. Silent as she stares right back.

She saw him. Oh Wild is gonna be so mad. This is-

Myrah turns her gaze away, back to Wild.

Maybe she didn't see Legnd? That would be good.

"Go rest, you look exhausted, kiventa."

Wild just nods, standing with little else in response as he goes to the guest bedroom. Though based on watching the two Legend would guess the guest bedroom is really just Wild's.

Legend has no clue what the foreign word means, but it sounds gentle enough.

After Wild shuts the door Myrah stands, walking towards her stove and starting the kettle.

Without even looking to him again she says, "You can come out, Legend."

"What-"

"I admire how much you care for them." She says, "I'm happy to answer your questions. "

"Aren't you mad?"

"No. I'm not blind to the intimidation I exude. I don't try to be scary but many think I am."

"I- what?"

"Come inside it's going to be cold outside soon."

Legend would argue, or go back to the inn. But he can't ignore his curiosity about the woman. She's ridiculously tall, her hair is something like fire the way it fades from red to blonde.

Her eyes are like actual gold.

And supposedly she's older than Wild.

So he caves, choosing not to sneak back into the room he shares with Warriors.

He goes around the house and comes through the door.

She's pulled down two mugs, "I hope you like mint tea."

"Mint- isn't that the best way to hide a sleep potion?"

"I'm not going to do that, you're welcome to watch me make them."

Legend dosen’t trust her. But she also hasn't lied out right yet either.

He dosen’t really wanna piss off the seven-foot-fuck-off tall woman who was trained to be a warrior.

"I believe you." He says.

Myrah throws a smile over her shoulder at him, "You're smart to be cautious. Not everyone is good."

"That's not reassuring."

"I guess not. Tell me, what was your time like?"

"A lot of woods. People were nice enough."

"Hm, sounds pretty."

"Yeah."

"You don't trust people often, do you?" Myrah asks as she starts putting tea leaves in a holder before dropping one into each mug.

"Why should I? You said it yourself, a lot of people aren't good."

Myrah laughs, warm and bright and soft all at once. "A lot of people are good. A lot of people aren't..."

"Obviously. What are you, a glass half full person?"

"No. I'm more of a knock the glass over and choose last second kind of person."

"That makes no sense."

"I've been told that a lot."

"Wind is pretty fond of you. Why?"

Myrah pours the boiling water into the mugs as she answers, not missing a beat. "It might be that I don't treat him like a kid. A lot of people do, if I were to guess."

"We don't-"

"You all protect him most. Don't think I didn't notice how you all tried to stay between me and Wind the first time."

'You-"

"I've lived a long time, but before everything happened I was supposed to be a royal knight- to protect the princess with Link. I know what it looks like to keep someone away."

"You're something else."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I don't mean it as one."

"That's okay. I've lived to long to care what the youth think of me anyways."

"You do know you look like- maybe twenty. Right?"

"I know."

"Okay then."

Myrah sets out creamer and sugar before bringing the cups older. She seems unbothered by legend. His words and presence almost seem of no consequence to her.

Once he's pulled a mug towards him and added a lot of sugar, he looks at her.

"You know we don't trust you. Don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why do you keep trying to be nice to us?"

Myrah lets out a slow breath, and she meets Legend's eyes slowly. When she speaks she's quieter and more unsteady. "You have all taken in Wild... I- I will always take care of those Wild cares for. He's my family, which means his family is worth taking care of."

"That's-"

"Probably silly?" Myrah suggests, forcing a smile, 'I know."

"You really care about us just cause Wild does?"

"Yeah... I do. And I'm thankful to you all for looking out for him. He's always been reckless with his own life. He never understood how much he meant to others."

"You don't say."

She sits, looking a lot less lively than usual. Something is obviously bothering her.

Legend can't bring himself to ask though.

"You know, I meant what I said to Wild... You all carry far more than you need to."

He blinks, a little startled that she wasn't just saying it for Wild's sake.

"Maybe."

"The fact that you've all defeated Ganon- more than once for some of you... It really is miraculous. "

"It's our job."

"I know. But trust me, not many people would try to fight if you didn't. "

"I guess you'd know."

She just smiles, something almost vicious lights in her eyes. "I do."

Legend can't stand this, so he figures he might as well just ask her what in the name of Hylia she wants from them.

She probably won't kill him.

"Okay, seriously... What do you want from us? "

"To help. As much as I can. I don't necessarily know what you're chasing, or your pasts.... But I do know you are all lacking your flame."

"You know about that?"

"I am one. Other wise I'm pretty sure I'd have died several times over the years."

"So you just want to help? Out of the goodness of your heart?"

Legend knows how sparky he sounds.

"Yes. But if I'm being honest, part of it is to keep Wild safe. But I'd also help you guys anyways."

"That's real stupid."

"I don't expect any of you to suddenly trust me. But I hope you fan believe me when I tell you that I am going with you."

Myrah's eyes are hardened as she says that. Her voice steady and stern. She sounds so sure- and she's just unknown enough Legend can't fund it in himself to call her bluff.

He doesn't know who in their right mind woud want to join the chosen heroes but whatever.

"I'm sure you are."

She just laughs, shaking her head as her stern face falls.

She sips some more of her tea, seeming to relax just a little.

Legend finally give in and tries the tea. It's minty, but not too strong. It's soothing and almost like a hug from someone long gone.

"What blend is this?" Legend asks, putting aside his pride in the interest if tea that might actually help soothe the nerves of the group.

Myrah smiles, setting her mug down gently. "I never did get a solid name for it, but Wild's mom taught me."

"His mother?"

"Yes. She was a remarkable woman."

"It's hard to believe you're old. You seem so young."

"I try to be, it's real weird when someone who looks twenty acts super old."

"Yeah..."

"I'm happy to teach you the tea blend. There are others you might like- though I've never had the magic skill that Thea and my mom had."

"Thea?"

"Right. Sorry. Thea is Alethea, Wild's mom."

"She had a skill for magic?"

"Most oracles do. You might actually be able to recreate her recipes, you and Hyrule both seem magically inclined."

"Huh. I mean, maybe."

"I have to go to my nephew's house tomorrow, you're all welcome to come."

"I thought you only had a niece. Where does-"

"Adopted family." Myrah says with a smile.

Legend notices the slight strain in her voice, barley there. Itself not quite true, close. She's good. Real good.

"Sure."

"You'll understand when you see them." She says, obviously aware she'd been caught."

"Maybe."

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #lu wild #lu legend #myrah the gerudo

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pendanticalcats · 1 year

Note

Yes, share about Flickerswitch with us! What are his three words? Does he have a particular role or interest? Who are his friends? Maybe even tell us his vocal range and/or dance style (ballet, presumably)

Three words are rather private and constantly changing with the cat so I'm not actually sure what his are. To put out a guess Hesitent, Graceful, and Romantic. He spends most of his time in the junkyard being a professional mom (think Jelly). He's got three kittens that he doesn't like leaving alone even though there are many other cats who can watch them so most of the time when someone wants to step out he watches their kittens. He ends up a storyteller over time. He and Jemima get together after the longest slowburn in existence (it's ridiculous) and he's friends with Electra since Lec and Mima share a den and end up co-parenting Daisy. Since he and Victoria both dance ballet they like to practice together and do duets (Tori likes it a lot bc hes basically the only cat smaller than her so she gets to practice lifts). There would likely be a song about the two of them as the dancing cats. He and Plato talk magic and philosophy stuff and he spends time with George bc he's so goofy it's hard to feel awkward around him but he's not loud like the other toms their age. His vocal range is really wide he can blend in with the toms and hit soprano. When he's the Jellicle Bride he dances the introduction and the pas de deux all on en pointe the toc toc of pointe shoes especially with the wide jumps is my favorite

#cats the musical #cats oc #pls ask abt any and all chara interactions i have so much rattling around in my head #if i get better at choreography ill animate his intro

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vinvantae · 2 years

Text

Baby Steps

Part 22/26

<<< Link to previous part

Warnings - explicit language and heavily implied smut (but still not actual smut)

*****************************************************

It was definitely a sight he could get used to.

You were in the kitchen first thing in the morning in one of his T-shirts and some little shorts while you sang and made pancakes with Milo - the toddler sat in his chair, attempting to cut up fruit with a plastic knife to decorate them with. He didn’t disturb you, simply leaning against the doorframe as you swing your hips to the music, taking Milo’s fruity hands in yours and dancing with him.

The three of you had been spending the summer break travelling through Europe and you’d reached your final stop before you and Milo were leaving to see Carlos. Dan didn’t want it to end, but he’d had you all to himself for nearly two weeks so he understood you needed time as well before going back to the MTC.

You currently found yourself in Sicily, in a villa just off the coastline of Palermo. For the first time in weeks, despite the travel, you felt truly rested. And as Daniel finally stepped into the kitchen to give you a good morning kiss, you realised just how domestic this whole thing really was. Dan had slot so perfectly into your little family that it was like he was meant to be there. Sure, it wasn’t the same as having Ben around but having someone to wake up beside, someone to help around the house, someone to help take care of your son. It was nice. It finally felt normal.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt normal.

“What do you want to do today, my love?” The driver hummed, helping Milo cut up his fruits.

“Beach day, maybe? Last one before we go to Maranello to see Carlos tomorrow.” You said, keeping your attention on the frying pan in front of you as the pancakes cooked.

The driver whined softly. “I know it’s selfish but I don’t want to share.”

“Sorry, Danny.” You slid a plate of pancakes towards him. “Does this make it better?”

“No.” He jutted out his bottom lip, coming up to you and wrapping his strong arms around your middle. “This has just been so nice… don’t wanna go back to reality.”

“I know. But it’s only the weekend I’m with Carlos and then we’ll all be back in Woking. Besides, mister popular, you’ve got lots of friends who want to catch up with you as well.” You chuckled fondly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Now, eat up before they go cold.”

“Yes, miss.” He saluted, letting Milo dump some of his cut fruit on top of his pancakes.

Dan still felt like a creep when he watched you, the way you ate, stopping to wipe Milo’s face when he got juice everywhere. You didn’t even touch your food until Milo was eating contently - always putting him first. Even giving him one of your pancakes when he finished because he liked them so much.

“You’re such a good mum.”

Your cheeks flush. “It’s one pancake, babe.”

He lent over and kissed you softly, eyes meeting yours as he pulled back. “You’re such a good mum.”

“Yeah!” Milo agreed. “Best mummy!”

You giggled softly, one of your hands coming up to rest on each of their jaws. Thumb brushing softly over the skin. “My boys.”

Milo practically purred like a kitten, nuzzling into your warm palm - making you smile fondly. Dan gave your thigh a gentle squeeze before taking all of your empty plates up to wash. You scooped your son out of his chair and took him upstairs to change.

Even though your swimwear was always practical, you didn’t want anything falling out when playing with your son, Dan absolutely loved you in it. Being able to touch the soft expanse of your skin without layers of clothing being in the way, the shape of your hips and legs.

He knew how you felt about yourself, at the start of the trip, whenever you thought you might get caught by the press or a fan trying to sneak a photo - you’d cover up. Not wanting to be compared to any of the other girls that driver’s had hanging off of their arms. But Dan showed you how much he worshipped you and that made you feel more confident in your skin. As long as the man by your side wanted you, that’s all that really mattered. And you’d had a kid, your body was never going to be as perfect as some model’s.

“It’s unfair how sexy you are.” The Australian purred, coming up behind you - his tattooed fingers running up the outside of your thigh. “Makes it hard to behave myself.”

“Dan.” You whined, breath catching in your throat as he continued to run his hands over you. “Not when Milo could walk in.”

“I know, baby. I’m only teasing.” He chuckled playfully, kissing your shoulder. “You make it hard… literally.”

You playfully shoved him away from you. “Absolute muppet.”

As mad as you pretended to be, the smile on his face was contagious and before you knew it you were laughing. You felt so safe around him, it was so easy to be yourself. Dan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you laughed at his silly behaviour - you were truly at your most beautiful when you were happy, when you were laughing - so he felt honoured when he was the one to make you feel that way.

“One more kiss before we go?”

You shared one more kiss before the three of you head out to the beach - one of Dan’s party shirts thrown over the top of your bikini as a cover-up. Milo held his spade and bucket to his chest, practically skipping along in front of you and Daniel. The two of you walked behind him, hand in hand with beach supplies under your other arms. The beach was only a five minute walk from the villa so before you knew it, you had the familiar feeling of warm sand between your toes.

Dan set out the towels and set up the parasol while you slathered Milo in suncream. “Gotta let that dry for a minute or else you’ll get sand stuck to your bum, okay?”

“Okay, mummy! Wanna build a castle?”

“Of course, jellybean.”

The Australian lounged back on the towel, propping himself up on his elbows to watch the two of you play together. He was absolutely smitten with you, and when you smiled at him he knew that there would be no better time to tell you how he felt.

“Baby, can you come here?”

You kissed Milo’s forehead before coming and laying beside your boyfriend on your side. Head propped up by your hand. “Everything okay?”

“More than.” He hummed, leaning in to kiss you. “I know it would be romantic to just let it come out in some dramatic fashion but, I can’t see a better time to let you know how I feel.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm, hmm.” The driver smiled. “I am so in love with you, y/n. You’re everything I never knew I needed and more.”

You studied his face for a moment before leaning in and capturing his lips in a kiss, one with more meaning than any you’d shared before. As you moved back, you nudged your nose against his, voice lowered to a whisper. “I love you too, Daniel.”

“Y-you do?” He was a little taken aback, he knew you cared for him but to hear you say those words back meant so much more than he could ever imagine.

“I do. You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years and the way you are with Milo? You’re such a good influence on him and he admires you so much.”

He smiled, cheeks flushing. “You guys feel like my little family. I know he’s not mine but-“

“But nothing. I like having you in his life, you protect him, you love him. I can’t ask for more.” You cut him off. “I didn’t think I’d love again until I found you.”

“Baby… you have no idea how much that means to me.”

Before you could speak again, Milo wedged himself between the two of you - laying on his back so he could look up at you both. “What talkin’ about?”

You chuckled fondly, running your fingers through his curls now his hat had fallen off. “Just how much we love each other, that Danny feels like part of the family.”

“Yeah! Family! I love you both!” He grinned. “Kisses please!”

You pressed little kisses all over his face, small giggles erupting from him. “My little jellybean. Love you sooo much.”

The three of you spent the day together, just enjoying each other’s company. It was truly lovely to relax and have fun with the two people you cared for most. Nothing else really mattered today, just this.

The evening was much the same, the three of you enjoying laughter and silly stories over a proper Italian pizza before you ventured back to the villa where you and Daniel shared a bottle of red whilst Milo slept upstairs.

“So.” You hummed, swirling your drink in your glass. “You love me, huh?”

“That I do.”

His eyes were locked on yours as he sipped at the wine, the warmth coursing through him. “Can I ask when you realised?”

“It was just when we were in the paddock the other week, the way you looked at me… it… it was like you were the only person in the world.” His voice was soft, a smile tugging at his lips. “The way you’d fight for me, protect me? I know you’ve got my back through anything.”

You smiled sweetly and cupped his cheek, the driver lent his weight into it as you brushed your thumb across his skin. “And I know you’ve got mine, Dan. We’re a team… even if they’ve split us up at work.”

“We’ll be back together. I just know it.” He grumbled, pressing a kiss to your palm. “We’ve just got to show them that we’re still serious, that we’re still gonna put the graft in and get the results.”

“Too right.” You agreed. “It’s not the same, working with Lando. I like the kid but he’s not you.”

“Can I ask you when you realised?” He’d moved closer to you now, his hand rested on the soft skin of your thigh. “What made you fall for me other than my devilishly handsome looks?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “As much as they helped, I can’t really pinpoint the exact moment. Just the way you make me feel safe and the way you are with my son is such a big deal. I’d told myself that I’d never love again like I loved Ben but…”

Your breath hitched and you felt tears burning in your eyes.

“But you’re really just something else aren't you? Came right into my life exactly when I needed you… I’m not much of a believer in fate but… if there was ever proof that it existed? It was us meeting when we did.”

“I promise I will never try to replace Ben.” He assured, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “He’s a part of you, part of Milo… I’m just lucky you’d even give me a chance.”

You placed your glass down on the coffee table and shuffled closer to him- leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you for sticking by me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Cus I’m a bit of a mess still and I don’t think I’ll ever be 100% okay.” You mumbled, linking your hand with his.

“Everything you’ve been through has made you the woman I love and that woman is a mess? So be it, we can be messy together.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling you right into his side. “And as I said, I’m here to help you make your troubles feel a little lighter. Help carry them.”

You kissed him with more intent this time, your leg swinging over him so you were sat in his lap. His large hands settled on the small of your back, pulling you in close. The kiss was deep, you could practically feel the love coursing through you.

His lips were parted, his wide as you pulled back - pulling him off the sofa and tugging him towards your shared bedroom - not wanting to spend another moment with him wearing clothes. The two of you moved so in sync, his warm fingers pressing into your soft skin as he held you.

The cool breeze of the ocean made your skin prickle but the way his body pressed against yours made it unnoticeable. His strong hand pinned yours either side of your head as you moved together - muffled noises so as not to disturb the small boy in the nearby room.

“Dan.” You felt breathless, your entire body on fire.

“I got you baby.” He purred, capturing your lips in one more kiss to capture your final moan and contain his own.

He pouted softly as you rolled out of bed, making your usual awkward waddle to the bathroom before rejoining him beneath the sheets - his tattooed arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“My girl.” He hummed, kissing your nose. “You sure you want to go to Maranello tomorrow?”

“Mhmm, I promised Carlos and Milo.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “You definitely make it hard to leave.”

The driver chuckled softly. “I’ve had a thing for you pretty much since the day I laid eyes on you so I’m not exactly eager to let you go.”

You lifted yourself up so you could look down at him, a raised brow. “I’m pretty sure I saw you first way back when we started in F1.”

“Yep. Ever since then.”

“I-I… wow…” you were speechless, sure you’d always thought he was cute but you’d been so wrapped up in Ben that you hadn’t even realised.

“Can you blame me?” His voice was soft. “But I wasn’t gonna approach someone else’s girl… and in a way I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t think we were meant to be together back then, you were supposed to be with Ben.”

You traced your fingers along his jaw. “Now is definitely our time.”

The look in his eyes was so tender it made your heart flutter, you couldn’t believe you’d been lucky in love twice in your life. What did I do to deserve this?

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?” He asked once more.

“I’m sorry, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it, okay?” You apologised, pressing one more soft kiss to his lips. “Now, get some sleep.”

“But the sooner I sleep, the sooner you and Milo leave.” He whined softly, snuggling into you.

You giggled. “Needy boy. I’ve been all yours for nearly two weeks and you’ll see me again in three days.”

“Just got used to sharing a bed, not sure I’m gonna be able to sleep alone again” he huffed.

“I’ll leave you a tshirt to put over a pillow.” You teased.

“…you joke but I’d love that.”

And when you were packing up your bag the next morning, you placed a folded up shirt sprayed with your perfume into the drivers suitcase - mirrored by one of his in yours. If you weren’t sleeping naked, definitely Daniel’s preference, then that shirt was your go to. As you zipped up your bag, the driver emerged from the bathroom with your toiletries.

“3 days.”

“Just 3 days, my love.” You hummed, taking the little bag from him. “We’ll be back together before you know it.”

“God, I’m so sorry for being so clingy.” He chuckled, kissing you sweetly. “Time apart will probably do me some good.”

“Mummy! Are you ready?!” Milo called out. “Wanna see uncle Carlos now!”

You smiled softly as he rounded the corner into your room, his dinosaur backpack on. “Yeah baby, wanna say bye to Danny?”

Daniel crouched down and wrapped his arms around the toddler - the small boy throwing his arms around the driver’s shoulders. “Thank you, Danny! Had best time!”

The Australian smiled fondly. “Me too, little man. I love you so much, see you soon, okay?”

“Why don’t you come too?” He asked.

“Because uncle Carlos deserves to have some time with you and your mummy without me intruding.” He explained, stroking Milo’s curls. “We’ll be back together soon.”

“Fiiiiine.” The toddler huffed before letting go. “Come on then mummy. Faster we go, faster we back to Danny.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” You chuckled softly, the three of you headed downstairs.

After you said your last goodbyes, you and Milo took the short plane trip to Maranello to meet Carlos. Thankfully the flight wasn’t too long and before you knew it, you were on the other end of Italy, Carlos stood waiting for you in the airport. The summer break had done him good so far, he looked refreshed and relaxed. The Spaniard scooped up Milo as soon as he set eyes on you both, hugging the toddler close to his chest.

“There he is, my frijolito!” He grinned. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, uncle Carlos!” Milo giggled, squeezing him tight.

Carlos bounced the toddler on his hip. “Did you and mummy have a good time with Daniel?”

“Yeah! They love each other now!”

Your cheeks flushed a dark pink and Carlos raised a knowing brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, we said it.” You admitted. “I was gonna tell you later, not make it the first thing, Milo.”

“But it’s good, mummy!” He whined softly. “Love is good!”

The Spaniard kissed the toddler’s temple. “That it is, frijolito. Now, I apologise but I need to stop off at HQ before we go back to mine, is that okay? They know you’re with me.”

“But what if I steal your strategies?” You giggled.

He rolled his eyes playfully, leaning down to strap Milo into his car seat. “You’re not coming into a meeting, hermosa.”

“Boooring.” You teased, slipping into the passenger seat.

The driver pulled into his parking spot outside the factory and after grabbing you a visitor's pass from reception, you followed him upstairs. No one seemed to bat an eye that you were there, in fact, some of them looked like they were expecting you - greeting you with smiles as you walked past with Milo in your arms. You didn’t start to feel suspicious until Carlos stepped into an office and Binotto was sitting at the desk.

“Ah, you both made it.”

You frowned as Carlos took a seat, not moving from the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Please, y/n, take a seat.”

The nerves in your stomach were bubbling up and you were thrown back to your disciplinary meeting with Andreas, but you didn’t work here so it couldn’t be that.

“So, sorry to get you here under false pretenses but it was the only way I could. Carlos was an unwilling participant until I told him what I had in mind.”

You swallowed heavily. “Well, if you could tell me as well that would be great because I have no clue what’s going on.”

The team principal chuckled knowingly before reaching into his drawer and pulling out a stack of paper.

“As being a race engineer wasn’t enough to tempt you away from McLaren, we would like to offer you a role in 2022 as Chief of Communications and Strategy. You will still have a seat on the pitwall but you will have access to both drivers and have a larger input on strategy.”

You were gobsmacked, your mouth open in shock as he slid the contract towards you - your potential new title and very hefty wage listed at the top. You looked at Carlos and he was looking at you with a mix of guilt but also intrigue to what you thought.

“Take the contract and think about it, no pressure to sign it right here. But we would love to have you as part of the team.”

This time last year, you would've even considered it, but you found yourself picking up the document and tucking it into your bag. “…thanks”

“No worries. Hopefully, we’ll see you soon.”

You shook the principal’s hand and practically fled from the office back to Carlos’ car, struggling to find your breath.

What the fuck just happened?

**************************************************

And the drama keeps on coming!

Next part >>>

@itsmycorneroftheinternet @laura-naruto-fan1998 @marianadj99 @tall-tanned-tattoo @wonderlandofsu @monodreme @theplobnrgone @witchy-whore @gipsyd @feminismisaflawlessbitch @pukklv @walkonthewiidside @reallydeadpoet @shes-unwell-babe @eniram-du @eitak-t @itsbwoken @adiaz-25 @sraholland @readerselegance @danielricciardo3f1 @ujisworld @withyoutilltheendofthismess @alternativemadchen @sad-fridge2323 @haterpenny @awaterfalls @miahelen @heyitskay-21 @f1thirsttraps @jamieolivia27 @spngi @mpolarisblack @cringe-kats @dudde-44

@letsthedogpackandthecats @stampiej @whatssupeef @lightsoutpierre @cam-blog98 @manuosorioh @sugardontbesweet @monte-carlando @skyslowalking @samsationalwilson @dr3lover @fic-for-readers @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy

#f1 fic #daniel ricciardo #f1 x reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #ricciardo x reader #f1 #formula one #x reader

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writercole · 2 years

Note

A friend of mine sent one of those « toxic » videos and it was basically « every time he does something that displeases you, erase one of the letters of his name from your contacts. Hangman the shit out of him » and… Imagine doing this with Jake?

Oh, bestie. The thots.

- He looks at another girl and winks when he’s out with you. Goodbye, N.

“What the fuck?” he asks when you save his contact edit.

“Fuck around and find out, Hangma,” you sass, “you’re supposed to be out with me, not them.”

- The first A falls away when he doesn’t interact with you at The Hard Deck when you’re out with the Dagger crew. He’s literally talking to Rooster all night and only looks over at you when it’s time to leave. You delete it in the car.

“Okay, I know what I did this time,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, baby, I just got caught up talking to Bradshaw.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in response as you save ‘Hangm’ in your phone.

- He forgot about your niece’s birthday party that he swore he’d be at. Promised you. And you understand, he forgets sometimes. But this was important; you’d also reminded him just before he left.

“What birthday party?” he asks with a furrowed brow.

“The one for my niece who just turned one,” you remind him. “The one you promised you’d be at, swore you’d come to meet my family.”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he hangs his head.

He’s now saved as ‘Hang’.

- It’s date night. He’s an hour late.

The G is deleted before he makes it to your house.

- You’d pretty much decided that if he keeps fucking up like this, you’re gonna drop him. He’s got three more letters, three more chances. If he loses that ‘H’, it’s done. Well, he gets a little drunk and maybe starts talking about a couple of the girls he’s slept with that happen to be out tonight.

“Oh come on, baby, I don’t even remember their names,” he coos.

“You remember how tight they were but not their name? That really doesn’t restore much confidence, Ha,” you reply.

- He didn’t lose any letters for a couple of weeks after that. But he told you he was going to surprise you with your favorite dinner and your favorite dessert. But it wasn’t your favorite.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “You’re allergic to strawberries.”

“Mhmm,” you nod, deleting that ‘a’.

- He doesn’t know it’s his last shot. You figured it’s better not to tell him, at least for you. You’d rather see him how he is than on his best behavior when he’s trying not to lose you. He was on time for your date, opened the door for you. But he wanted to blindfold you for the drive. You agreed.

“We’re here,” he says as he shuts off his car.

“I still don’t know where here is,” you shrug. You hear him chuckle as he gets out of the car, shutting the door behind him. A moment later, yours is opened and he lifts your hand from your lap to help you out.

You can hear the waves crashing, smell the salt air. There’s some seagulls calling over the rolling water.

“This way, baby,” he tells you as he slips one arm around your waist. He guides you forward and you feel the ground beneath you change from concrete to wood.

He stops you abruptly and steps behind you, untying the blindfold slowly. When it falls away from your eyes, you gasp. A table for two is set up under the stars, candles dancing in the ocean breeze.

He helps you into your chair and a waiter sets a covered dish in front of you. The waiter lifts the cover to reveal your actual favorite meal. You moan when you take the first bite, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with the deliciousness of the food.

“I can’t believe you did all of this,” you smile across the table.

“Well, it’s been two months since you first agreed to go out with me,” he admits as a redness creeps up his cheeks. “I wanted to commemorate it. And tell you that I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick and taken you for granted. But that won’t happen anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend, not just date casually.”

He lost the H that night but he did get a better contact name - Boyfriend 💞

#nonnie #hangman #jake seresin #ask and ye shall receive #cole answers

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jameui · 3 years

Text

SPECIAL PRESENT 1

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

(P.S. so i was fucking dumb to actually think that when you said performance, you meant by performing on a stage, when you actually meant, how male reader actually did good in school. I was too late to notice. sorry. if this didn't reach your expectations.

The school's foundation day is fast approaching and each student at Resonance High are all excited preparing for that certain day. During the school's foundation day, events such as competition in sports and performances like singing and dancing or spoken poetry. All sorts of event takes place in that particular, not only a day, but a week, that every students can take part in.

The school's foundation day does not only happen after a day. It's a week of celebration for the foundation and, of course, free from homeworks and projects that students have to worry about. All their focus must be on having fun on those days and be active in participation. Some students never liked the thought about celebrating a foundation day, but you on the other hand, thought otherwise as it's your first time celebrating it with a friend, since you never really get to do it with any due to you practically being locked up in your house for almost all years of your life.

Now, you were away from your family and you got to finally do anything you wanted. For example, having a sugar daddy who gave you all the help you needed. Sure, at first, you were just doing it out of mere fun, but you never quite expected to actually grow feelings for the older male. You didn't know when it started, but the first time you ever felt the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach was when he became worried and concerned when you got sick after a very excessive practice, the day prior. You wanted to tell him so, so bad, but you didn't know how to.

You were scared that maybe you were crossing the line or coming off too strong or maybe he'd walk away if you broke the agreement. It first started with just you only being up for it because of the agreement. Though, you never really went as far as you giving him a good blow or having a steamy bath with him. Either way, he was still someone you could trust and the only person you could rant about all your problems. The thought of losing all these scared you the most.

Unlike some other people, Jaehyun was smart and was a successful businessman, owning one of the richest companies in the industry. Jaehyun, when he's not busy, he'd help you out with your math homeworks or would just do it for you, since he found it fun and easy. Sometimes, you think he's Einstein, reincarnated.

Jaehyun, besides his brains, is also fun to be with. He knows about your passion and talent for singing and dancing and your once dream to be an artist, so he would sometimes play loud music in the living room through the speakers and you two would be singing along, him making up lyrics when he have no idea what the song artist's saying in their song. He'd sometimes call them drunk, because they sounded like they were slurring their words, which you would always laugh to. Also, he'd let you teach him a few dance steps you saw on tiktok and you'd record it together, only for the fun of both of you.

You were seated by your section's booth and couldn't help, but crack a smile from the thought. That was until one of your classmates decided to cut the moment. "What's with the smile?" Jeno, one of your friends, questioned with a smirk whilst carrying a case of bottled apple juice, placing it beside the stand of the booth.

"Here to tease me, again?" You scoffed at him, as he shrugged his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him and stood up from your seat before heading to the school's gate where the rest of the important necessitated items are waiting. You skipped along the way and stopped by the pick up truck that was parked at the parking lot. "Anything I can help with?" You asked with a smile.

"Here's the last of 'em." He gave you two cases of the bottled drinks, one stacked above the other making you grunt.

"This is heavy." You muttered under your breathe, your thin hands barely holding onto the handles. "Th-thanks." You told them your feet wobbling from the heavy weight of the trays.

Jeno who came walking back outside saw you struggling, making him chuckle deciding to help you. "Need help with that?"

"Yes, please." You said before passing the trays to Jeno carefully, so it doesn't topple over. "Thanks." You smiled at him, cracking your knuckles and shaking it to reduce the pain you felt on your hands.

"Welcome." He said, then walking back to the booth, with you beside him. "Ah, M/n. By the way, are you attending the practice this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?" You chuckled, kicking on a pebble that came your way.

"Oh, I just thought you'd be busy sucking your daddy's—"

"JENO!" You yelled at him with an evident blush on your face cutting him off to avoid anyone hearing what Jeno had to say. It's always been like this. Since the day you told him about having a sugar daddy, he'd always tease you no matter where you are or what you're doing. He'd always use your excuses against you and now, you're regretting ever telling him.

"Okay, okay. Damn." He laughed at your reaction, you staring daggers at him.

Just as you were about to spat back at him, you heard a group of girls' voices calling out to you. "M/n! M/n! M/n!" They were successful in gaining your attention, while they smiled running up towards you. "M/n! You didn't tell us you have a handsome brother..." One of them said, while batting their lashes.

You knitted your brows in confusion. "I have?" You asked the girls, who looked like they knew better and nodded their heads. First of all, you don't have a brother, but you have three sister, two are older and one is younger. Second, you don't even know who these girls were and yet, they mysteriously knew your name and who you were. "Wait, who are you talking—"

"M/n-ah." You heard that sweet raspy voice of the man you loved, your head snapping towards him who stood by the side of your booth. You guessed he was on his break, since he was still in his suit and it was already past twelve in the afternoon.

"Jaehyun!" You giggled as you ran to him, all the while opening his arms for you to throw yourself in. You gladly complied and wrapped your arms around him, the lot older male doing the same as he hung his long arms on your waist. You snuggled into his chest before you looked up at him to see him already looking down at you with a smile that displayed his deeply carved dimples. "What are you doing here? Aren't you busy?" He made you giggle when he patted your head and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"I wanted to see my baby." Jaehyun replied, then pouting. "I've been so tired lately."

You furrowed your brows in concern and hugged him tighter. "Can't you take a three days off?"

"I want to, but I got to keep the company running if I don't want it to fail." He answered you, making you nod your head.

Once the girls saw these, they quickly felt embarrassed and walked off without making a sound, Jeno laughing at them.

"Then, why don't I treat you to something sweet? How's that?" You wanted to do something for the older and this was the only thing you could ever think of.

The pout was still glued to his face when he looked back down at you. "Angel, we agreed that I would do the treating."

"Well, you're the one who needs my help, right now, so I want to do something for you, other than..." You cleared your throat and mumbled, "...the other things I do for you."

Jaehyun chuckled, as he finally gave in to your offer while he ruffled your hair. "Alright."

You pulled away from him once he had loosened his grip from around your waist. You took him by the wrist and told Jeno that you'd be somewhere else, leaving Jeno with the rest of the responsibilities, promising him to make up to it.

You were leading Jaehyun to the canteen, before he gently pulled on your hand. You turned your head towards him, your eyes moving down to where he held you. You chuckled and smiled. "What's wrong?"

"Can... I hold your hand, M/n?" The question took you aback, only since he never really asks those type of questions. Ones he only asks are some that goes by the line 'can you suck my dick?' or of some sort.

"Sure." You managed to smile from the obvious shock that got Jaehyun a little red. "You didn't even have to ask." You added to which he nodded to shyly. It would be times like this when you would forget that he is a good thirty years old because of his cute personality.

You two finally made it to the canteen, the taller male receiving a lot of stares from all those present inside. Jaehyun was yet to spot the attention he was gaining, but you were already feeling iffy even though you knew that those heart eyes were for Jaehyun. But, you couldn't help the feeling that those eyes didn't like you being around Jaehyun. "J-Jaehyun..." You squeaked out silently, tugging on the sleeve of his suit, taking his attention whilst smiling down at you. His smile faltered upon noticing how you looked subtly shaken and cowered in fear. "I.. I think we should leave."

"Baby, what's wrong? You look so tense." Jaehyun asked you out of pure concern, cupping your cheeks as he gently tilted your head upwards, so you could face him, but you removed his hands from your cheeks that got him almost shocked since you'd never really let yourself move away from his grasp, instead you would usually just lean into his touch and let yourself succumb to the warmth he was radiating, but this. This was different and he knew exactly that something was bothering you.

"Can we go, please?" You sounded like you were begging for you two to quickly move outside, leaving Jaehyun with no choice, but to nod his head and let you drag him out of the place. Alas, you were outside, but he never received even a word from you nor a hum, a sigh, nothing. Just complete silence.

He grew more worried thinking that he might have done something that he shouldn't have or said something that made you feel so uncomfortable. He was getting anxious as you continued to keep your mouth closed and never said a word. "Baby, you know you can trust me, right?" Jaehyun caressed your thumb in a comforting manner, his eyes showing how much he truly cared for you and how genuinely worried he was. He was scared that he might have done something wrong to you.

He himself never knew how it got to this. At first, just like you, he had only intended to find some fun in the relationship you both had and not actually grow some feelings towards you, but the first time he ever met you, all he ever had thought in his head was to protect you at all cost and give you everything you wanted, spoil you with all his money and riches, give you forehead kisses and pleasure that can make you see stars. Since the start, he only thought of this as something platonic and that it was a part of the agreement you both had consent on, but as you two got to spend more time together, he always felt something blossom inside of him. He always looked forward to every day, mainly because he had you to wake up to. His usual stoic expression, completely turned into those that said 'sunshine' all spread out on his face. That's when he completely knew, it was not only the benefits he was up for, anymore. It was you and his love for you.

He was just your usual workaholic man, who had nothing in his head rather than work, work, and work. Not until the day he bumped into you on that one faithful day, when you were so drained from all the studying you had to do and decided to buy coffee. You were so intimidated by his face that he got you cowering in fear when you turned to look up at him. The only courage you could muster was so small that you were only able to give him a polite bow before you entered the coffee shop to buy your favorite cappuccino coffee.

He was so intrigued by you that the next day, during that same time, he waited for you in that same exact location, but you never showed up. Until later. You were so shocked from the sight of him. You feared he'd beat you into a pulp, so you hid your face with your hand, hoping he didn't see you, but luck wasn't on your side that day and decided to let Jaehyun notice your presence.

"Hey, I—"

"Sorry, sir. I'm quite busy, right now." You immediately cut him off and got inside the shop, Jaehyun following suit. Your eyes made its way back towards the older who was following behind you closely. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him, retracting his body from looking through your shoulders, throughout the whole time smiling down at you with his dimples showing. "Excuse me, sir, but do I owe you with something?"

Jaehyun pursed his lips, thinking before smirking and leaning closer to your face, with you, all the while, pulling your head back. "Yes." He answered you with his hands shoved confidently inside his pants.

Your gaze averted from his mesmerizing eyes to the table that supported you and kept you from falling. You gulped and felt your lips go dry. "D-do you need money? I don't have much, but will 7,000 won be enough?" You fondled through your pockets and took out your wallet.

"What? No, no." He chuckled, one hand taken out from his pockets and scratching his eyebrows while he sighed. "I have an offer."

Your brows were pulled together looking up at him, curious. "What is it?"

"Give me your number and I'll tell you over the phone."

And that's how it all started. Of course, he told you about lying that you owed him something, either way you were thanking the God above that he created you as gullible as ever.

As of the moment, Jaehyun could only feel his nervousness rise as he continued to stare at your back. "M/n, please say something. You're making me feel so worried."

"Jaehyun..." You finally stopped walking and spoke, before throwing yourself into him, the impact suddenly taking all the air inside Jaehyun's lungs away. "Don't leave me... please." You pleaded, your arms around him going tighter.

Jaehyun softened and felt himself get blanketed over with relief. He raised his hand to put it on top of your head and caressed them softly and soothingly. "I won't, M/n. I promise you."

In the end, Jaehyun was the one who treated you with something to eat. You were sat at a bench near your class' booth, Jaehyun next to you, while you swayed your feet back and forth. "Hyunnie." You called out to him with a new nickname you came up with, Jaehyun choking on his burger letting out a few coughs while you patted his back, laughing. "How the hell do you eat a burger that it got you choking on it?"

His coughing finally stopped and looked at you with a surprised face. "The nickname. You never called me that before."

You pouted in reply and blushed in embarrassment. "Do you.. not like it?"

"No, of course not." He was quick to shake his head, then cleared his throat, looking away. "It's cute."

You were able to see the pink tint painting his cheeks that you always found cute, since it's a very rare sight to see. Teasingly, you peeked over and was able to confirm that he was, in fact, blushing from just the nickname you created. "Oh my gosh, you're blushing." You cooed and immediately, Jaehyun scoffed, facing you to land a small kiss on your lips that got you widening your eyes and wiping away the mocking smile you had on your face. Your fingers made its way up towards your lips, unable to speak.

"Now, tell me who's blushing." Jaehyun smirked.

You glared at him, but instead of feeling intimidated, he found it cute. "I'm just surprised, since you never really like to, er, kiss me on the lips." You whispered the last part, loud enough for only you and him to hear.

You two were so happy in each other's company, that you both forgot that Jaehyun had somewhere else to be. That being his work. He wouldn't have noticed the time passing, if it wasn't for the alarm he had set, knowing he'd lose track of time when he's around you.

You walked him to his car and saw him off, waving your hand at him, not leaving until he was finally out of sight. You put your hands back down and sighed happily, walking back towards where you should be: at the booth where you should be finishing the preparation.

"So, how was the quick date?" Jeno asked you with a smirk, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back inside the hole that connected it to the shirt, showing his perfectly built muscles.

"It was great! Save for the part where I received death glares at the canteen. That felt terrible." You shuddered at the thought, but smiled again. "That aside, it was great."

"Your schedule didn't change? Are there still room for practice later?" Jeno asked you for the nth time that day. He's been asking you since you entered the classroom.

"It didn't, Jeno. Why are you so eager with me being present in the practice?" You chuckled at him, deciding to help him pack the treat bags you will give out to your customers.

"I just can't be left alone there with people I don't know. I'm an awkward person." Jeno told you.

"Jeno. You're literally known by all the students here and you're scared because they're strangers to you? I bet they all even want to be friends with you." You said, but Jeno just shook his head, his hair moving along with him.

"No, M/n. You must and need to attend the practice, either way." Jeno demanded of you.

You rolled your eyes at him and sighed deeply through your nose in defeat. "Fine, fine." Jeno's eye smile appeared and let out a small 'yes' making you chuckle.

"Hey, M/n." A voice started from outside the booth and saw a girl with her arms crossed, looking down at you whilst you seated at the ground. You looked up at her, but she didn't look friendly. She looked angry than friendly.

Your eyes flickered toward Jeno, then back to the girl and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Don't give me that smile, you whore." She spat at you, all of a sudden.

Your eyes closed shut, your mouth wide open and your forefinger raised up while you pushed it towards her way and scoffing. Your eyelids tore open and you smirked at the girl. "Excuse me? Whore? Who you calling a whore?"

"Listen, midget—"

"No, you listen here, Barbie." You said, a mocking tone with the last word. "You full on plastic, bitch. Get away from my sight. You look like a parasite."

The girl gasped in shock and opted to pull on your hair, but Jeno held her by her wrist and angrily stared at her. "You heard him. Get away. I'm not afraid to punch a person, even a girl, if they're purpose was to mistreat and shame on an innocent person." Jeno threw her hand away like it was trash, sending the girl from moving two steps back before stomping her foot and turning on her heels to walk away.

You could still see Jeno glaring at the girl while you looked at him in shock. "Wow, wow. Look at you."

"Sh. I'm not done yet." Jeno hushed you, before he continued his work. "You were saying?"

"Nothing. Was just shocked you told that girl off. I could have handled myself just fine, but thanks to you, I'm saved from causing a ruckus." You said, Jeno huffing through the nose.

"Seriously, you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and knitted his brows. "Stop making the problem bigger."

"No way. I need to put up a fight. If I don't, they'd see me as someone weak." You defended yourself.

"And you can't even handle death glares that's being sent towards you?"

You were about to speak and fight back, but he was right. "That's... that's a different matter."

"Sure, it isn't, M/n." He said rolling his eyes.

Later that afternoon, past 5 p.m., you and Jeno excused yourselves from the class, since you have a dance practice for your performance on the opening of the foundation day. Out of habit, you skipped beside Jeno who was happy that you got to attend the practice today. Again.

You never really liked the person who choreographed the whole song. It was under a genre you thought you could never pull off or fit in, so your confidence was at a very low level. During practices, though, you try your best not to make it obvious that you were uncomfortable for that certain concept, but you still had to be seen making a lot of mistakes, some of the other students who joined clearly agitated. You could only bow and bow and bow at the mistake you knew you clearly had done, feeling guilty for the reason why always had to start again from the top. The reason why you never really got along well with these students.

You have arrived at the practice room, taking quiet steps as you both entered the venue trying your best not to make a sound. The intense gazes you received from the other students didn't come unnoticed by you, the reason why you pulled your knees closer to your chest as you buried your face in it. Clearly, they were enjoying those two few days you were absent, since they got to finish practice early and with no interruption nor mistakes. But, now that you're around, they knew exactly what awaited them.

Jeno saw you curled up into a ball and eyes making its way up to the students who looked so angry with you making him frown. "M/n. Don't mind them. You're actually doing even greater than them." He tried to cheer you up, so you acknowledged it with a smile.

"Thanks, Jeno. But, I don't think that will change the fact that my uneasiness with the dance is the reason why we have to start over and over again." You sighed and placed your head back down on your knees, Jeno drawing circles on your back.

A moment later, the mentor came walking in, displeased to see you present. "Oh, welcome back... M/n." He stated before you could hear those loud snickers coming from the students. You and Jeno were the first ones to stand in position, the others following suit. The mentor's face lit up with an idea on his mind. "Can everyone please take a seat for a couple of minutes?" He smiled, then looking at you. "Except for you, L/n."

Jeno's eyes fell upon you, a worried look on his face, mouthing 'I'll be fine' to reassure him as he sat back down along with the other students until it was only you and the mentor left standing. "You think telling your 'boyfriend' about me would scare me?" He mocked you with your head still hung low. "You have to try better than that." He smirked, pulling a chair to seat on it. His legs were on either side of the chair, so his chest was pressed upon the back rest of the chair to face you. "Start."

You were startled by the sudden order and went into position, but you only started fidgeting out of fear. "Where... I.. sir.. Do I stand—"

"L/n!" He yelled at you, making you jump from the sudden raise of his voice. You knew telling Jaehyun was a bad idea. "Fix yourself, will you? The performance is due tomorrow and you're such a mess." The misery you were caged in were the happiness of the students as they started to giggle, your fist clenching hard until your knuckles turned white.

The music started, but you were still nowhere from moving your body. You just stood there, head hanging low while gnashing your teeth. You weren't angry at the mentor. You were angry at yourself. You were angry that you couldn't do any better. You practiced the dance so hard, yet it were still so far from perfecting it. You just wished some kind of spirit would possess you and lead your body.

The whole place started to laugh at you as they watched you shamelessly froze on your position. You felt a small jab on your ribs that made you open your clenched fists and saw Jeno standing right beside you with a grin on his face, your expression softening as he started to lead the dance. Slowly, you felt your own body move to the beat and rhythm of the song, being at the same flow with Jeno. The students only watched while the song ended.

A slow clap from your mentor was heard, a smile plastered on his face. "Way to impress me you two, huh?" He stood from the chair and waisted his arms. "L/n." His eyes moved to you, expecting yet another scolding. "I'm proud of you. Keep up that confidence and I just know you'll do great." You felt a smile creeping its way up to your face, before the mentor closed in on you and ruffled your hair. "Alright, everyone. From the top."

-----

The practice ended at exactly eight o' clock in the evening and you were already feeling drained, your sweat soaked shirt sticking to your body. Your forehead glistened with sweat, that ran down to the side of your cheeks. You panted heavily and flopped your body down on the polished floor.

Why that late you ask? Well, you and Jeno decided to stay for a few hours to polish the dance, him pointing out your mistakes and going back to the steps to correct you. You were grateful Jeno was a very patient guy, so whenever you made a mistake or wasn't executing the dance properly, he'd just chuckle and help you with your 'cute mistakes', at least that's what he called it.

"Finally..." You panted, Jeno settling himself beside you, his limbs sprawled all over the floor. "Done."

"You did so great, M/n! I knew you could pull this off." Jeno gave you a compliment that made you giggle, a hand on your chest to catch your breathe.

"And it was all thanks to you." You told him.

Jeno shook his head. "Ey. The only thing I did was help your body to loosen up."

"Exactly." The cute noises coming out of your mouth once more. "Do you think we should practice more?" You asked the older who moved his head to look at you.

"Still up for one more?" He smiled knowingly at you, while you nodded at him. You both stood up from where you both lied and you went to your position with Jeno moving to the speakers to play the song for the last time.

The minute you both finished, you were so exhausted that your knees couldn't hold themselves up anymore and you fell to the ground, groaning. You were panting heavily, starting to even your breathing at the same time laughing proudly at yourself for how well you've done. "When I get home, I'm gonna take a shower and then, throw myself on the bed and sleep."

Jeno could only laugh and you two were left with half an hour talking about all the things in life. You listened to him rant about how the mentor was being more harsh on you than the other students, but you only shook the topic off telling him that it no longer mattered and that he should already move on. You had also thanked him for helping you, during that time when you had to do the dance routine all by yourself. You really didn't know what else to do than to just stand there and sulk.

A few minutes later, both of you were now starting to pack, Jeno having to make a quick visit to the restroom, leaving you all alone inside the studio. You were changing into a dry shirt, when the voice of the janitress from behind the window made your body go tense as you jumped and turned towards her. "Oh, fuck." You sighed out in relief, holding your hand close to your chest. "You scared me, ma'am."

Her eyes turned into those that looked like crescents and smiled. "My bad. Probably shouldn't have passed by unannounced." She nodded and proceeded to mop the hallway floor.

You were about to ask her about a certain matter that was troubling you, but when you lifted your head to face the woman, she was not there anymore. "Uh.. probably left for something." You shrugged it off and went back to scrolling through your feeds, the certain feeling of being watched sending chills down your spine. The silence was so deafening that you started to whistle to a song you were currently into, just to help calm the unnerving feeling. You started to feel all the hair on your body stand on its end when a very harsh opening of the door sent you off flying, then to the ground your heart beating so fast. "Shit!"

Jeno was obviously confused why you got so scared by him just pushing the door open, but he was also laughing at your state which made you glare at him. He helped you stand back up to your feet, as you dusted your pants from any invisible dirt. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You scared the shits out of me. That's what happened." You scoffed at him, hitching your back higher onto your shoulders. "Let's go." You two vacated the room, making sure to lock it, but you told Jeno not to since the janitress was still yet to finish cleaning, but Jeno was greatly puzzled at what you had said.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Jeno laughed lightly before proceeding to lock the door and hung an arm around your shoulder.

"I saw her through the window." You added.

Jeno shook his head in disbelief and didn't fall for your trick to scare him off. "First, the school does not hire a janitress or a janitor, since they have working students. Second, so the dance major students don't get distracted, the window inside the room is tinted, so you basically don't see anything outside."

You felt your heart sink at the revelation as you felt all your blood get drained. "Are you... s-sure?"

"Yeah." Jeno answered your question. You slowly turned your head back towards the room, the windows and saw a black figure waving their hands at you that made you sprinting off to the entrance, leaving a dumbfounded Jeno as he followed behind you. "What the hell, M/n?"

"Shut... up! You were not the one left inside the dance room, so you wouldn't know how much I'm fucking scared, right—"

"M/n!"

"FUCK!" You screamed on the top of your lungs, stomping your foot and punching the air for no apparent reason. "Jaehyun, you... nevermind. Just take me home, please. I think I'm already fucking wasted." Jaehyun, who was on his casual attire, approached you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

#x male reader #bottom male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #fanfiction #kpop #nct #nct x male reader #jung jaehyun x male reader #jaehyun x male reader #jung yunoh x male reader

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diaphragmjellyfish · 4 years

Text

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know.

Paul Lahote x reader smut.

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in!

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good.

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top.

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on.

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back.

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence.

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed.

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated.

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking.

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant.

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.”

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out.

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy.

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?”

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.”

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again.

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?”

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it?

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.”

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.”

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him.

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain.

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket.

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed.

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?”

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly.

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in.

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good.

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?”

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded.

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt.

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end.

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned.

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous.

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement.

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?”

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?”

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly.

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?”

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely.

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed.

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap.

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

1K notes · View notes

savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 2 years

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Only the Right People

Serial Killer!Bucky X Serial Killer!Reader Detective Marc Spector The night was quiet, you had been expecting to deal with more people than usual but they were clearly onto your ideas. The men were flocking to your area, dying to get a glimpse of the temptress that danced behind the curtain. MINORS DNI a/n:this is a DARK fic through and through, descriptions of murder, gore, violence, child abuse, drugs, please read with caution also if i ruined a favorite character of yours i am so sorry in advance.

The night was quiet, you had been expecting to deal with more people than usual but they were clearly onto your ideas. The men were flocking to your area, dying to get a glimpse of the temptress that danced behind the curtain. Of course you knew better than to indulge them, the right one would press his luck and show his cards when the time was right. Your partner always made sure to lead the best ones to you.

Your hips swayed to the music, the bass reverberating through the floor and up your legs as you waited with bated breath. Surely he would find someone sooner rather than later, he never disappointed you in the slightest. It was why the two of you worked so well together, you would be the bait, and he would find the victims.

You could feel his presence, waiting just outside the curtain as if waiting for you to be unaware he was actually there, ready to pounce. Maybe you’d be on your own that night, tearing the man apart with your own devices.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” You smirked at the deep timber of his voice, letting you know he was right there.

The gentleman’s breath hitched in his throat, he’d been found out and was about to find out why you didn’t fuck around in this club.

“Baby, don’t be mean to him, I’m sure he has a very good reason for breaking the rules of the club,” You stepped out from behind the curtain, the robe slip covering your lace adorned body.

Bucky smirked, he knew how much you loved torturing the downright scum of the earth, the men, and women alike, that deserved what they got. Was it considered sick? Of course, but that wasn’t going to stop either of you from killing these people.

You’d leave their bodies with all the evidence they needed, detailed lists on who they truly were behind closed doors. The police were always looking for you two, forced to keep it on the downlow so as to not alert the public. What kind of panic would that send everyone into if they knew two serial killers were on the loose?

“Take him to the basement, I have just the thing for him,” You were excited, it had been a slow week with nothing to do but kill time(ha)until the next victim came long.

Bucky gagged the man, pushing him down into what you’d started calling your “fun chamber” and tying him up in the metal chair in a metal chair that sat in the center of the room. The room had been soundproofed immediately, not wanting to give away what was going on between those four walls.

You’d convinced Bucky to install a sound system, you enjoyed playing some music during the weekly, sometimes daily, tortures.

“Now, my friend here mentioned that you were caught touching little girls, now they can’t defend themselves against someone twice their size, now can they?” You’d changed into your more appropriate attire, making sure your body was covered against any bodily fluids.

The man was screaming behind his gag, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched you pull out your array of “toys”. You’d acquired the multiple knives over the course of a few years, sharpening each one until they could split a single hair in half. Bucky had offered some of his own, you declined him, saying he could use his own weapons for someone special.

“I even heard that you went after your little niece, barely three years old. Now what kind of sick fuck does that to a baby?” You cut through his shirt, the tip of the knife digging into his skin.

Blood spilled down the soft skin of his stomach, leading down to the jeans that were straining against the roundness of his belly. Bucky was standing behind you, fiddling with his phone to find the perfect song of the night.

“Everyone’s gonna know that you liked to abuse children, especially your sister and brother-in-law, now isn’t that fun?” You smirked once music started to play inside the room.

Blood began to pour steadily down his body with each cut, you knew never to make the wounds fatal too early, they deserved to suffer for what they did. Bucky stood back and watched, waiting for his moment to strike, he always enjoyed killing the pedophiles.

“Saving the world by taking out one pedophile at a time,” Bucky spread the knife across the other man’s throat, setting the knife down as he began to choke on his own blood.

The hard part would be to clean up, once he was drained of blood you would clean everything up, tie him into a plastic bag and drop him off near the police station with the evidence. Why would they want to find his killers after knowing how many childrens lives he ruined?

“Definitely one of the better song choices I have to admit,” You finished mopping the floor, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“I heard it playing on the radio the other day, though it’d be appropriate,” Bucky smiled, tying off the bag to keep any loose blood sealed inside.

“Well thank you, it was very much appreciated,” You reached over to grab the folder containing all the evidence.

The photos sickened you, Bucky had found them from the asshole’s personal computer, something else you were gladly dropping off with the police. If they tried to cover it up, well they’d each meet their end as well.

“Let’s go drop this guy off and get something to eat, I’m starving,” Bucky picked him up, pulling up his hoodie so no one could recognize him the moment you guys got outside.

The backlot was always pitch black, something you and Bucky had decided was a better idea when taking bodies out to the precinct. The car was exactly where you’d left it, sitting beside the building with the trunk closest to the door.

You hit the button quickly, unlocking it so Bucky didn’t have to carry that sack of shit for any longer than he had to. He knew not to drop the body inside, lest the sound of the car creaking gather anymore attention. No one usually paid you any mind though, not when you showed up at the club, not even when you would sometimes leave with an extra bruise.

Bucky tried to prevent you from getting hurt whenever he could, but sometimes they would get loose and he couldn’t prevent it. It was always the women that managed to leave a mark, whether it was a solid punch, or a scratch mark on your arm. You would cut off their nails if that ever happened, digging out any evidence the police could use to find you.

Bucky frowned during the drive over, noticing that there was blood on his hoodie, he’d have to burn it once you guys got back to your house. That was something you always did, if there was anything that had blood and couldn’t be cleaned, you would burn it immediately.

“I’m gonna have to burn this hoodie, didn’t realize I got blood on it,” Bucky was frowning, that much you could tell in the dark cab of the car.

“I’ll buy you a new one, we have plenty of money to lay low for a while anyway,” You didn’t like having too much time off, but the police were getting restless.

It would only be a matter of time before someone found out it was the two of you and ratted you out, so you’d keep low until enough time had passed to find someone else.

“Are you going to stay at the club?” Bucky knew the answer would be yes no matter what, you couldn’t suddenly leave your job after another person came up murdered.

“You know I am, I can’t risk us getting caught,” You pouted at him as he drove, mainly annoyed that you had to work somewhere you hated.

It was a way to keep the police off your trail, and that was all that mattered, Bucky was your personal bodyguard when it came to shitty customers.

“I know babe, just make sure that if anyone tries to touch you, report it to me immediately,” Bucky pulled into the precinct, choosing the darkest area that the cameras never seemed to check.

Once the body was laid out perfectly, the evidence covered with its own tarp had the weather decided to suddenly change up on you, you and Bucky left. First thing on the list was getting dinner, and finally getting some goddamn sleep for the night. ▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Marc had been staring at his screen for hours, eyes burning as he struggled to stay awake at his desk. They’d been searching for whoever was the cause for a sudden rise in murders for the last three years. It didn’t make any sense as to why they left all the damning evidence, murder was still illegal.

“Marc? We’re heading out for the night,” Arthur, one of the other detectives Marc had recently started working with, popped his head into his office.

“Alright, I’m gonna keep looking over this evidence,” Marc didn’t even look away from the screen, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“Make sure you don’t stay up all night, won’t be good for you,” Arthur nodded at him, heading out of the building for the day.

Marc normally gave up after a while, deciding that it wouldn’t do him any good to keep staring at the same exact evidence for hours on end. There hadn’t been a new case in almost a month, leading them to yet another dead end. Whoever was killing these people were smart, leaving absolutely no evidence behind that could lead them to their killers.

“What if it’s two people, not just one?” Marc mumbled to himself, maybe they weren’t looking at this the right way.

His phone started ringing, making him nearly jump out of his seat before he answered it with a tired, hello?

“There’s been another murder, pedophile this time,” Sam Wilson, one of the best detectives Marc had ever worked with, sighed into the other end.

Of course there had been another murder, it had gotten too quiet for things to seem like they were finally dying down. He grabbed his badge and gun, knowing he would have to head down to wherever the body was found. Layla was going to be so upset.

“I’m on my way, make sure they don’t move anything,” Marc ended the call, making his way out of the building and to his car.

He pulled up to the parking lot after twenty minutes, police officers surrounding what he assumed to be the body as he parked. There were lights everywhere, showcasing anything that could count as evidence.

“They already checked the cameras, no one saw a thing,” Shit, of course that’s how things were going to be.

“Whoever this is is too damn smart for their own good,” Marc scoffed, heading over to where the body was.

They hadn’t cut through the tarp, leaving both the body, and the startling amount of evidence beside it, completely untouched. He could see what looked like an image of a child just peeking out from one of the folders.

“Cut it open, we need to see who this is,” Marc wasn’t sure how he’d ever feel had it been someone he knew personally, the thought terrified him.

One of the cops on duty knelt down, cutting open the tarp with shaking hands.

“That’s the principal from the school nearby, what the fuck,” Marc was sickened, this man worked with children daily.

Peter Quill, married with two children of his own, was often found at the park with his wife and kids on the weekends and playing pool at the bar at night. Who would’ve thought he had such a sick second life.

“Get him down to the morgue, I’m gonna bring this evidence back to base,” Marc knew it was going to be another long night, he’d have to call Layla when he got back.

“At least get something to eat, you’re gonna be up all night looking over this, and the last thing you need is a burnout,” Sam was right, Marc tended to bury himself in his work when it came to new evidence.

Marc chuckled, grabbing the evidence bags to take them over to his car. He’d have to eat before looking at everything, he always lost his appetite after seeing what the killers left for him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, see if they can figure out when he was killed.” Sam was one of the only people who worked as hard as Marc did, determined to find the serial killer.

Layla was thankfully understanding, telling Marc to at least try and get some rest so he wouldn’t end up falling asleep at work again.

They had been trying to work on their marriage, mainly struggling with how often Marc was stuck at the office. He’d apologized a million times, telling her he wanted nothing more than to spend time with her. Maybe things weren’t going to work out, not unless he could find the time to actually leave work for longer than a few hours at a time.

He plopped down in front of his computer, filtering through the files that he’d been given. The photos nearly brought up his dinner, so many different children stared back at him. They were so young, their childhoods ruined thanks to such a selfish asshole. The laptop was easier to crack into than he expected, detailing different instances where he’d met up with other pedophiles.

“Wait, these people are different victims, I recognize these names,” Marc started to catalog all the names into a list.

There wasn’t a single name that wasn’t in Peter’s computer that wasn’t a victim on their list. Whoever was killing these people knew exactly who to look for, as if they had done their personal research for months. How could they afford this though? Surely it would get too costly to continue after a while.

“There hasn’t even been a spike in suspicious shopping, so where the hell are they going?” Marc had put alerts to any hardware store for any suspicious looking people buying in bulk. Whoever this was made sure to lay low enough to slip under the radar.

As he continued searching through the massive amounts of photos, and messages, Marc decided it was time to call it a night. He could come back with a clear mind and dig a little deeper into the evidence, there was something he was missing and the lack of sleep didn’t help.

He’d find these killers, no matter what toll it took on him.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱ Bucky was snoring softly, arms wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully, whereas you had been up for nearly two hours. Most people would call you monsters, asking how you could kill someone in cold blood and still sleep at night. Most murders didn’t bother you, you knew deep down that murdering them wasn’t right, but they would never go to prison for what they did.

Judge, Jury, and Executioner.

It was something you’d called yourselves, determined to prove mainly to yourselves that you were doing something right. These horrible people would get away with their crimes, continue to live their lives as if they hadn’t ruined countless others. Your parents had been the same as any person you’d murdered, beating upon you and your siblings until you were old enough to escape.

Bucky was the same way, he’d been hurt countless times before he stood up to his father, nearly killing the man for putting his hands on his younger sister. Rebecca deserved better than what their father had done to them, and Bucky was determined to prove that to them. She was now married to a man that adored her with two children of her own. Bucky regretted leaving that life behind at times, but he couldn’t risk the police catching him and accusing her of hiding everything.

The last you’d heard your older brother had died from an overdose, heroin if you remembered correctly. You weren’t entirely surprised that he’d fallen into a life of drugs, it was only a matter of time before one of you had fallen into its deadly grip.

You’d nearly gotten into that lifestyle, dragged out kicking and screaming by none other than Bucky himself. You were drinking yourself to blackouts nightly at the club, almost losing your job on more than one occasion. Getting sober wasn’t something on your bucket list, but after five years clean, you weren’t complaining.

“Bucky?” You nudged him gently, laying a hand against his shoulder.

“Hmm?” He lifted his head slowly, glancing around the room to make sure everything was still alright.

“I can’t sleep, had that nightmare again,” You scooted down so you were both lying face to face.

“Your parents aren’t going to be able to hurt you anymore, not with me around doll,” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest.

You smiled softly, cuddling into his embrace with a soft sight. Bucky always knew what to say when you were feeling upset. It was obvious to anyone looking at you from the outside that you were in love, you didn’t bother to hide it.

“Why don’t we get married?” Bucky had been trying to convince you both to elope for years, moving on when you always seemed to ignore his proposal.

“And do you have a ring Mr. Barnes?” You never believed him, though you wanted nothing more than to get married to Bucky.

“And if I do?” He had been running his hands along your back since he’d pulled you into his arms.

“Wait, do you actually have a ring?” You pushed yourself up, shocked that Bucky had been able to keep it a secret from you.

He smirked, reaching over into his bedside table to rummage around, he rolled back over with a soft ‘aha!’ holding out the ring box to you. Bucky was serious, he wanted to make you his wife and had the ring to prove it. “I know it’s not the most romantic thing, but what do you say, will you marry me?” Bucky popped the ring box open, the most amazing ring sitting nestled inside.

You threw your arms around his neck, pressing kisses all over his face in excitement.

“Yes!” You didn’t even want to pull away long enough for him to slide the ring on.

Bucky did it for you, sliding the ring from the box onto your finger that was still wrapped around his neck. He could’ve shed tears when he realized it was a perfect fit, he’d been guessing when he bought the ring.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” You couldn’t stop smiling, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared down at Bucky.

“I can’t wait either, my gorgeous fiance,” Bucky smirked as your face flushed, he wouldn’t get tired of that any time soon.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱ 2 Years Later

The precinct was silent as Marc paced his office, there hadn’t been another murder since Peter Quill, so what happened? Had the killer given up? No, that seemed too easy for something so hellbent on killing bad people. They were still innocent people though, people that could have been arrested for the crimes they’d committed.

“Hey, someone’s down in the main office saying they know you,” Sam looked a little nervous, the only person that had visited him was Layla, and even that was few and far between.

Marc set down his coffee, leaving his office to go down and see who could possibly be asking to see him. The moment he stepped out into the spacious office he was shocked to see you standing there, a soft white sundress adorning your body.

“Holy shit, it’s so good to see you!” Marc ran over, wrapping his arms tight around you.

He hadn’t seen you in years, mainly due to his job and the fact that you worked overnight when he was also working. He had recently met your husband, you quickly explained you’d both decided to elope seeing as it was the much cheaper option.

“Nice to see you too Mr. Spector,” Your smile was contagious, broadening the one on his own face.

“What brings you around this neck of the woods, haven’t seen you in forever,” It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see you, it was just a shock.

“I was in the neighborhood looking at houses with Bucky when I thought, why not? So here I am,” You squeezed him one last time before stepping out of the embrace.

“So things are going good for you and him?” Marc could see how much you loved your husband, you smiled at the mere mention of him.

“They’re perfect, I can’t think of a better man to spend the rest of my life with, we’ve been thinking of having children,” It was a tough decision, one you refused to think about at first.

Marc smiled softly, he knew you’d be an amazing mother, even with the past trauma you dealt with you came out a much better person than anyone he’d ever known. He had wanted that for Layla and himself, but things happened differently for them.

“You’ll be amazing parents, I can already tell,” Marc wanted a better life for you, something where you would be happy no matter what.

“As if we’re not going to make you an honorary uncle, gonna make sure you’re around all the time,” Marc was shocked, you’d really do that for him?

“I’m honored, thank you,” Marc glanced over as the doors opened, Bucky walking into the building in search of you.

His smile was beaming the moment he laid eyes on you, Marc almost felt bad for even standing near you when Bucky was around. He knew it wasn’t anything serious though, Bucky was your husband and you loved him.

“There you are, I was starting to think you finally ditched me,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I would never and you know it,” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting against his chest.

Marc raised a brow, smirking as you buried yourself further in Bucky’s body as if trying to hide from Marc’s playful look.

“As much fun as it was to catch up, Bucky and I really do have to get going, we’re meeting with the realtor in a little bit and I am not losing my house to someone else,” You’d found the perfect house recently and were ready to put an offer in.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it, just give me a call if you guys want to get together over lunch or something,” Marc wanted to get you back in his life, even if for only an hour.

“Absolutely! I’ll give you a call if everything goes through with the house,” You bid a quick farewell, Bucky giving a small wave before the pair of you left.

Marc took a slow breath, he hadn’t admitted to anyone at the precinct, or to anyone he worked with that he’d discovered new evidence on who the killers might be. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to dig any deeper into the case, not when the main suspects had just left his presence.

They deserved a good life, even if Marc had to live with that secret for the rest of his.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes ff #marvel #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #marc spector #marc spector fic #marc spector angst #angst #moon knight #moon knight fic #sam wilson #peter quill

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

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Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone.

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages.

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more.

"What do you want, Cassian?"

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul."

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards."

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest.

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book.

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again.

~ * * * ~

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre.

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear.

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game."

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later."

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?"

"We are not friends."

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship."

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much.

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team.

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together.

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head.

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle.

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in.

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench.

~ * * * ~

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit.

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet.

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?"

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own.

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head."

"It looked… bad."

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot."

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand.

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?"

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand.

"How else would I get home?"

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?"

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too.

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open."

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta.

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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