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#i read it this morning before i went to work and it was such a brilliant start to my day
hannieween · 2 days
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wicked games series, teaser | k.mg
Kim Mingyu came into your life at a time when you needed a friend the most. And that he was: a friend that you could confide in and laugh together, share your secrets with and perhaps, share a burden that was too similar to his.
☆ pairings: kim mingyu x female reader ☆ genre: angst, smut [18+] ☆ aus: bartender mingyu, rebound fuck, friends to fucking, toxic fwb ☆ word count: 1.8k teaser – 20k full chapter
› date of release: 09.29
🎧: hold me – hojean
› read more
chapter i – teaser
Damn you summer rains.
They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain started pouring over you with little to no notice.
Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.
You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.
“Lost something?”
Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.
His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were soaked, as was his long messy hair.
You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.
“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.
“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.
“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”
You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”
“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”
Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.
And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.
You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.
“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”
“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”
“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.
“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.
Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, okay,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”
You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”
“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.
“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”
“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.
“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically between 11 pm and 3 am,” you giggled impishly.
“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”
Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.
It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.
But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.
The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.
“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.
“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“What would that look like?” you ventured.
“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed at the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on top of the bar and started dancing.”
His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”
“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.
“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.
“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.
“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”
“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.
The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.
Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.
“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.
“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”
The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.
You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.
“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”
Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I might have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he walked inside your little sanctuary, looking at the big frame abandoned and leaning against the wall of the hallway.
“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced in front of you.
“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.
“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.
He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.
“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”
He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.
“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”
He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.
“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.
The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”
You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.”  
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.
“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.
“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.
“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”
His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.
“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly you stopped moving back.
“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.
Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.
“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.
You are not sure what happened if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.
Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.
But who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.
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☆ author's note: hello hello hi there it's hannieween with an announcement to make!!!
this is my new series (yes, i'm starting a new series even though i have like 3958 other wips going on atm lol)
so this is it, this is a teaser of what's to come. there are some things that i'll change here and there in the final version so be on the lookout for that hehe
that's it for the moment, oh and tell me if you would like to be tagged (●'◡'●)
toodles!
☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART I! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡
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© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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darnell-la · 21 hours
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can i request older logan with reader who’s a crybaby… reader who cries over little things and older logan who can’t help but get hard and coddle her. wiping away tears during sex!!!
note: older Logan wouldn’t take y/n’s crying session seriously. Usually, they’d all be because of work, something he’s told her a thousand times he didn’t want her to do, so a part of him didn’t care. Instead, he loved how much she cried, taking advantage of it whenever he could.
———
“How was work today, Bub?” Logan asked, eyes glued to the newspaper he had picked up in front of the door earlier this morning. Y/n hadn’t said anything. She tried thinking of what exactly she should say, but he had spoken first.
“Bub? What up?” Logan asked, eyes looking over his reading glasses as she slipped off her shoes and hung her things up. “I-I — You know,” y/n said, but Logan in fact did not know.
“I know what?” He asked, setting his paper aside as he felt something wrong with her. “Work today — It was just exhausting,” she said as she went into the kitchen to grab a glass of any alcohol Logan bought for himself, and she drank occasionally.
“What happened?” Logan asked as she got up, listening closely to her story of the day. The more she talked, the more cracks he heard in her house.
“A-And the boss said maybe he’d fire me if I kept snapping back at the customers, but they always start it! Every day, it’s the same s-shit!”
“Baby, baby,” Logan said as he came up behind the young lady before she could pick up the glass she had just filled. “Don’t need you drinkin’ your problems away. It ain’t good for you,”
“I know, but — I just need something, Logan. This is so stressful,” she said as he turned her around to take a look at her face, and like he knew it, she was crying. Eyes glossy and puffy as always.
“Baby,” Logan tilted his head with a sigh, upset that she’s always stressed and taking in everything people say to her. He wished she could just move on with life, and stay happy with a big smile.
“Look at me, Bub,” Logan said as he lifted her head after she tried turning her head. “You need to relax — Stop letting these people get to your head,” Logan said as he wiped her tears.
“I know, but-“ y/n tried saying, but the man shushed her. “Don’t speak, Bub, just relax. And no drinking either,” Logan said as he moved the glass she filled to the side.
“You’re too pretty to be cryin’ all the time, baby,” Logan said as his faves nuzzled hers. “I-It’s just so much,” y/n cried as his hands rubbed her body, trying to calm her down a bit.
“I know, baby, and what did I tell you? Told you I’d take that easy lumberjack job, right? Get us double what an average human man could make workin’ for ‘em and put that money towards our cabin,” Logan reminded her.
“Baby, I don’t want you to work though,” y/n said as his hands tracked up her shirt. “And why can’t I? I’m the man, and you’re my pretty girl. I’m tired of being a housewife. That’s your job, or at least let me do it all. You can relax the rest of your pretty life,” Logan said in the crook of her neck.
“You’re gonna take my offer, bub. Ian askin,” Logan’s hand dug into her jeans to rub at her cunt until she squealed. “I-I don’t know,” she still cried, upset at herself for being this sensitive and also hit by the instant pleasure Logan was giving her.
“What did I say, baby? This ain’t askin,” Logan said before he ripped y/n’s jeans off of her. She gasped as he picked her up and placed her on the counter, spreading her legs as he pulled himself out of his jeans.
“You should be waitin’ at home for him to come back and give it up. Not the other way around, baby,”
Logan pushed into the weeping girl, making her hands fly up to grip shi shoulder. “Logan,” y/n sobbed, feeling his cock run through her walls in all of the right ways. He always made her forget why she cried in the first place.
“Ssh, baby — Just enjoy me. Cunts beggin’ for it,” Logan said as he cupped her face, wiping all of the tears that streamed down her face. “Mhm hmm,” he groaned as his free arm hooked under one of her legs to get a good new angle to pound her in.
“L-Lo,” y/n cried out, loving the way his body smacked against hers. “That’s it, baby — Let it all out,” Logan pulled her into his body, pounding so hard, that the countertop began shifting.
“Cry on my cock, baby — Look so good like this. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t lie as his eyes could barely stay open and tears still streamed from them. He was Jauch a crybaby, but his crybaby.
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stayconnecteed · 1 day
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🪐˓⠀˚⠀i guess i'm in love⠀@⠀kim seungmin.
this is just a cute birthday fic based on the love of my life @skzms and her seungmin's drabble 'seungmin in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this. the beginning of the plot is based on a personal experience! i wish it had ended that way tho askjdhkasjd
SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.
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You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell. The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows, hanging on every word, your heart racing. You didn't know anyone, and you preferred to focus on the speech, waiting for some extrovert to adopt you, rather than take the first step.
You had always been shy, and you felt a sense of panic at the thought that you might end up alone for the whole degree, but you were incapable of approaching a stranger and starting a conversation. Your fear was a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled in your chest, the number one reason why you had hidden in the same table in the library during all your free hours, and also the consequence of too many bad experiences in the past. 
But then you had met Seungmin.
You hadn't spoken, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed. He was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same course as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his anger when the typical annoying repeat student made their trademark rancid comment. You hadn’t even known his name.
Eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, he also sat alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with the playlist he had made for himself at the beginning of the course. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders, and a book in his hand ーthe same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You found yourself smiling as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.
And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, his ears covered by the black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat. And then you looked away, and went on with your work. It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't know.
But the next day your little dance was repeated, sitting opposite each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection. As if there was a mirror between the two tables. And the next day, and the next... Until it became a habit. You would leave class a little late because you knew it would take him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows with your gazes through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, and you would smile at him. And when you left him the book you'd used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in his lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.
Despite all your little interactions, you hadn't really made any move. The day you realised that there was another girl waiting for him at the end of your class, a more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher. She was asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building's cafeteria. You felt like you intruded, so you left. But that had been the same day you went to the library alone, and you had to open the door for yourself. You missed his smile. And you realised that he was worth every tremor in your hands, only if it meant taking the first step with him.
The next day, you mustered the courage to talk to a boy. To that boy. You approached him before class, sitting one line forward of him, taking a deep breath of air and exhaled it as you tried to keep your nerves under control, your eyes closed. With your pulse racing you had turned, resting your fingertips on his desk, and caught his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.
Your words were quick and breathy, stammering over coffees and shared hours, your gaze anywhere in the class but on his face. Yet he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you only interrupted the conversation when the teacher began the lesson, Seungmin's gaze returning to your figure every few seconds. That was the first free hour you disrupted your way to the library and accompanied, shoulder to shoulder, your quiet classmate to the cafeteria.
You heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting, tracing his gaze across the profile of your face, for you to say what you wanted. Then he guided you to one of the tables at the back, and let you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred. For a moment  you wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you sighed, and set your bag down beside you, intertwining your fingers in a nervous gesture.
You had been the one to propose the plan, and suddenly you realised that you had been so sure he would say no that you hadn't planned any further.
You wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word, until the waitress appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You uttered your own, no sound coming out of your throat, and flashed the start of a smile when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college.
And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your lips tightened, answering in short words how your university experience was going, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, wanting to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.
You tried not to let it show, but the bitterness was enveloping your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and you looked back at Seungmin, who was watching you with a hard stare. He tilted his head, almost like a dog would, and picked up the cup you had just set down on its plate, wetting his lips to taste it. He opened his eyes slightly, muttering a soft, “This is not what you ordered,” and got up to go reclaim it.
You felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier, how she was surprised and certainly apologetic due to the confusion, and the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place. It was Seungmin's gentle smile when she returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had thought of saying. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility, that the barista had mistaken the order, but he had done it because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.
“Thank you so much,” you said, brushing his skin with your fingers as you took the new mug, closing your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much. “You didn't have to.”
Winter was beginning, and with it the need to drown yourself in cosy blankets, at-home plans and movie classics that had become your favourites over time. So you told Seungmin when you opened your eyes and realised that he was watching you, trying not to retreat into the shyness that had been with you for so long. You were ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.
After that, it was relatively easy. The words flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other's gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone started ringing, and you realised you were late.
You apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You were surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his fingers in response. It was when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister, that you realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.
Apparently, you weren't the only one to think so.
The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you arrived early. You sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you doodled in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You looked up, smiling when Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of wanting to sit next to you, and managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher came through the door to start the class.
And it was when you were barely able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleep, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You turned, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn't bother to suppress the smile that curved your lips as you read a tight “What's your phone number?”.
You wrote it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, and you had to part ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture. At least until at least twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.
Unknown number: Hey, is it true that Mr Choi’s classes are soo boring?
Unknown number: Or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?
The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about him, and the unknown number had to be Seungmin. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice and begin to dislike you, and typed in the answer:
You: Mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact.
You: They wouldn’t be boring if you were here.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Naah, I bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them.
You: You can't use my sentence with me.
You: That's like cheating.
Seungmin 🫶🏼: Would it be cheating if I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?
You: Whatever you say, lover boy.
You tried to imagine Seungmin's reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your day.
From then on, you could only continue to develop your friendship, intertwing yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. The Christmas holidays had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a few weeks of relaxation with your family, but the study period leading up to the exam season brought you back together at that table in the library, exchanging complicit glances and helping each other take breaks when the stress got too much. He was the perfect study partner, and it was reflected in your grades, none of which dropped below a C.
At the end of finals, in those days before the second semester started, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He had told you that they hadn't gone because he didn't want them to say anything stupid in front of you, but you hadn't missed them. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, neck flushed and shy eyes when he saw the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely. It had been a memorable night. And when it struck three in the morning, he was the one who escorted you to your flat, just to make sure you got there safely, and you were the one who begged him to stay with you.
The second semester began with many hours of late arrivals to class 一something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company.
You would gather as soon as you arrived to the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance, he sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing, startling you, and you would run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher. You learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Always behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.
And in the free hours you got to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time was in a class that was cancelled at the last minute, on your way to the library, when you saw Seungmin's silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You greeted the short boy and the one with the narrow eyes with a shy smile, before asking them if they would let you sit next to Seungmin.
You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you shaked the creepy feeling out of your body. You stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother 一teasing him to death. And from then on you always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.
Your confidence with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, solidified at about the same time as you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the semester, you began to participate in conversations with his friends, gaining confidence, and even participating more in class, socialising with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop. You noticed Seungmin was becoming a bit distant, but with your Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee (hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again), you assumed he had simply decided that he had other priorities.
At least until the beginning of sophomore year, the night of Minho's birthday celebration. That october night, you had arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, a high five with Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a hug.
You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because a joke you two had, and Minho's genuine reaction had been to take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giggling. You remembered that he had told you he couldn't wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you had commented that it was a crime for him to be all lonely on the table on such a special day. With the excuse, you had sat next to each other, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair.
At one point, after all the group had gathered, when you had followed Minho's unfocused gaze at Seungmin, his eyes gave off such a hard acrimony that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.
You tried to talk to him about it the next day, when you woke up in your bed, but he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would be curled up against one of your pillows, had actually slept on the sofa instead, and when you asked him why over breakfast, you got no answer. You could see him building up anger and complex emotions inside, unable to utter a word, trying to decide what to do, before desist and wish you a good morning, leaving you on the kitchen. The absence of that trust you thought you shared broke your heart.
And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had proposed 一Thursdays were his favourite days to go out. He appeared at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table. The second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other.
At that moment you ordered the first drink. And they just kept on coming.
You tried not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it happen. But when that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, with the same wide smile he reserved for you, you decided that willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it. So when he pressed his hips to yours, you let him, and when he put his arms around your waist, you allowed it. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that his body didn't feel next to yours the way Seungmin's did, and as you felt him slide his hand down the back of your neck, you smiled, kissing him back just as eagerly.
But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. So you apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smile, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, if he had crossed a line with you. All you managed to do was deny, before asking him to take you home.
It was a terrible night. For you, and for him, who nursed you back to sleep.
And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.
Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, though you sat down to wait for him anyway. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, like a soul wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door. You paid no attention to his words, sittimg down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as you could.
But then you saw him. With his blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him some chilly afternoons. And you made eye contact with him, but continued on your way. You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had ignored you, as you heard his footsteps, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went down the stairs, the necessity to get out of there bubbling in your chest, wlaking through the doors of the building. You knew he was behind you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.
Until you heard him.
“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination. But his kicked out expression was a reflection of how you felt, brows furrowed upwards, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, tortured by his absence. And his cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know it was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you were able to clearly see now, like you hung the stars in the sky. All you had once imagined was true, and he was there, waiting for your response.
So you approached him, a shy smile curving your lips, and rested your hands on his shoulders, nodding.
“I love you too,” you murmured, lips moving against his, his breathe hitching. And kissed him. Eyes closed, feeling a sigh slipping in between your mouths, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs while he took you by your waist. And you kept smiling, your chest exploding in relief, savouring him like it would be the last time you would see him.
“I love you too, you jerk,” your repeated, resting your forehead on his.
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justmymindandstuff · 8 hours
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Can you do Aemond x f!reader? And the reader being a lot like Helaena (I'm projecting lol, I want an autistic reader basically). Just fluff between them, maybe newlywed?
Learn to Love you - Aemond Targaryen x WifeReader
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summary: Aemond tries to understand his new wife, but you are too much like his sister. He can't get through to you. One evening he tries it with direct confrontation and is rewarded with a glimpse of you and hope for the future. After this evening his wife is not a complete stranger anymore.
words: 2.818
warnings: softAemond, a bit angst
a/n: based on the request above. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as fluffy as it should. I hope you like it anyway :) I'm not autistic myself and don't want to hurt any feelings with the portrayl of the Reader. I based her on Helaena in the show.
Gif not mine// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // AO3 // not proofread// requests are open
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Aemond moves quietly through the halls of his home. The Red Keep slowly goes calm. The sun has already set, and most have retreated to their private chambers. Aemond is tired and longs for his own chambers and his bed. He had spent the evening a little longer than usual talking with Ser Criston. The sworn shield of his mother and he had trained together in the courtyard in the morning. Criston had discussed a few improvements with him. If his sore muscles would allow it, Aemond would try out the improvements tomorrow. But before he can retreat for the evening, he still has a task to complete. He still has his evening visit with his wife to attend to.
His marriage is not really how he imagine it would be. It's been almost a week since you two got married. You've known each other for 10 days. When you arrived at the Red Keep and he saw you for the first time, he had been relieved. A pretty face and a friendly smile had greeted him. Aemond tried to get to know you and realized that you are more than just a pretty face. You are nice, polite, smart, well-read, but strange. Often you drift off into your own world. Captured by your thoughts. You will be in a place where Aemond cannot follow you. And he quickly realized that you can't stand it when he touches you.
During your wedding ceremony, you didn't touch him more than necessary. The touch of your lips almost triggered a panic attack for you. You tore your hand away from his. Aemond would have liked to hold your hand a little longer. On this night, he did not dare to lay with you. This didn´t change over the last week, so you are still a maiden. Not that Aemond has told anyone, and as far as he knows, you haven't said a word either.
Maybe it's because he is a stranger to you? Aemond doesn't really know what to do. He doesn't like the situation. But he also doesn't know how he should change it. His usual solution, Vhagar, will definitely not work here.
He tried to seek advice from his brother. I don't know. With Helaena, it was different. I knew her well before we got married. For your wife, you are just a stranger. Aegon is right but Aemond didn't know how to change that.
So he went to his mother. Give her time to get to know you.
Both pieces of advice only led him to visit you every evening and try to get to know you. However, you mostly sit there in awkward silence and do not look at each other. You still feel uncomfortable in his presence he knows this.
Arriving at your chambers, he takes a deep breath once more and steps inside. The room is still lit by a few candles. He closes the door and watches as you pace restlessly in front of the fireplace.
"You are later than usual." you say, stopping in your movement. Now that Aemond is here, the unrest fades a little. Still, it bothers you that he doesn't come to visit you during his usual time frame. It's actually almost time for you to call your maids so they can help you change and you can go to sleep.
“I apologize for being late.” Aemond says even though he doesn't understand why it bothers you. Have you already gotten your hopes up that he won't come today? You look at him for a moment and then nod.
Without saying a word, you sit down in the armchair by the fireplace where you sit every evening. Aemond takes off his sword belt and places his weapon next to the door. He had considered that it might make you nervous that he carries a sword with him. So he puts down his weapon every evening before he sits down with you. Fortunately, you know nothing about the dagger in his boot.
Aemond even had a dagger made for you as a wedding gift. A beautiful weapon, with a gracefully curved handle and on the blade, just before the hilt begins, is a small dragon embossed that is inspired by Vhagar. Aemond hasn't had the chance to give you this gift yet. He knows that you need to get to know him better in order to understand the thought behind it. You should always be able to protect yourself, in case he might not be able to someday.
He shakes off the thought and sits down in the other armchair next to the fireplace. You don't look at him, but into the flames. Just like every evening. When you start to speak in a quiet voice he almost flinches.
"Why are you later than usual?" your hands are playing with the fabric of your skirt. You haven't changed for the night yet. You´re never when Aemond comes into your chambers. Even your hair is still braided into tight braids. Aemond feels like a visitor in his wife's chambers.
"I discussed my training with Ser Criston. There were a few problems this morning," he replies honestly.
Your face shows no reaction as you respond. “Are you hurt?”
Are you worried about him? No. Why should you? He is a stranger to you. But he still worries about you even though you are a stranger to him. After all, you are married. He wished he could read your thoughts.
"No, I am not hurt. Even though I don't really want it, Ser Criston is always a bit cautious during training with me." he is trying to ease your worries. If you are worried. Again, he tries to read your expression, but your face remains still. Your only reaction is that you turn your head to look at him. The fire in the fireplace casts warm light on your profile and your skin shimmers almost like gold. Once again, Aemond notices how beautiful you are. You look at him, and your gaze prompts Aemond to continue speaking. "I don't want him to hold back because, in a serious situation, my opponent won't hold back either."
"Which serious situation?" you still ask in a quiet voice.
"I don't know. If my family is in danger." and then he adds quietly. "If you are in danger."
The corner of your mouth twitch slightly and you almost smile. Then you turn your gaze away again and look into the fireplace. Aemond suppresses the urge to reach for your hand in your lap. Silence spreads again between you. The uncomfortable silence causes a hot burning sensation in Aemond's gut. Still, he can't take his eyes off you. You seem a bit sad. He decides that it can't go on like this. Aemond has to swallow and gathers all his courage to speak again.
"You are not happy."
This time you turn not just your head towards him but your whole body. He is surprised when your gaze meets him and you look directly into his eyes. Rarely can you hold his gaze. Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you think. It takes a moment before you respond.
"No. No, it's just that it's hard for me. My father brought me here, and this is a strange place for me. All the people around me are strangers. I miss my family and my home. Everything I knew was taken away from me. I was used to everything at home. I had my routines and everything. It's hard for me to adjust to all these new things around me. But it doesn't have anything to do with you."
Aemond is surprised by your words and needs a moment to truly understand what you have said. Guilt overwhelms him. It is his fault that you were kidnapped from your home. Because you had to marry him.
"I'm sorry," he says. Now it is him who cannot withstand your gaze and he looks at his hands.
"I don't blame you." once again, you surprise him your voice is now a bit firmer. "It wasn't your decision to marry me. Just as it was not my decision to marry you. That was agreed upon by our parents." you sigh. "You are not happy either. And that is my fault. I know that I'm weird."
"No! I don't find you weird."
You laugh softly and at the sound Aemond's heart skips a beat. He is looking at you again, he wants to hear you laugh once more.
"You don't have to lie."
"I am not lying. I don't find you weird. You remind me of my sister."
Your eyes start to shine. "Hel. I like her a lot."
He feels a slight tug at his heart. Aemond knows that you usually spend your days in the company of his sister Helaena. He has seen both of you walking in the garden a few times or engrossed in conversation while eating. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Helaena.
"Yes, I know. Do you spend a lot of time with her?“
You nod. "Yes. I enjoy being with her." "What are you doing all day?"“ Aemond is clinging to every strand. Everything is better than this uncomfortable silence between you.
"Oh, very different things. Sometimes we read together, or she explains something to me about insects. Sometimes I read one of my poems to her. Or I’ll give her one to read."
Aemond is captivated by the sparkle in your eyes.
"You write poetry?" he asks, annoyed with himself for not knowing this about you, but Hel did. Your cheeks are slightly turning red, and for the first time, Aemond feels like he can read your emotions from your face.
"Yes, among with other things. I also enjoy reading poetry. My favorite poet is Marcus Hill. He writes incredibly well. My poems are not even close to being that good. But I don't just write poems, I also write short stories. This helps me organize my thoughts better. But I like most writing poems.“ you speak a little faster than usual, which reveals your excitement to Aemond. He can't help but smile at the sight. Now that you are passionately talking about your interests, you are even more beautiful.
Suddenly you jump up from your chair. Aemond's hand instinctively goes to where his sword's hilt usually is. In the next second, it becomes clear to him that there is no danger, and he relaxes again. You didn't notice anything because you turned away immediately and took a few uncertain steps through your chamber before turning back to him. Uncertain, your hands begin to play with the fabric of your skirt. You take a deep breath and then search for his gaze for a second before looking away again. Aemond leans forward a bit, tense with anticipation. Finally you start to speak. "Would you like to… I mean just if you want? You don't have to." You stop yourself, take a deep breath and gathering your thoughts. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" you ask softly.
Aemonds heart skips a beat and a pleasant warmth spreads within him. "Yes. Very gladly."
You nod, turn back around, and walk to your nightstand. You pick up a book with a leather cover and open it. Aemond notices from his seat that it is stuffed with written pages, and almost every book page is filled with your neat handwriting. You rummage through the loose papers and then pull out a page before you close the book again and carefully place it back in its spot. You are coming back to him.
"I wrote this on the day of our wedding," you say, handing him the sheet of paper. In that moment, your fingertips brush against his. The touch is so fleeting that Aemond is not sure if he might have just imagined it.
He turns his gaze away from you and directs it to the folded paper between his fingers. He wants to open it to read your poem, but before he has really moved his fingers, your hand shoots forward and holds his hand firmly. Aemond skin tingles and he lightly closes his hands around yours.
"No. Please don't read it here. That would be too embarrassing for me. Please read it later and tell me tomorrow what you thought," you say quickly. Aemond looks up again and directly into your eyes. He saw you that close for the last time on your wedding day in the sept. A shiver runs through his body and he can only nod. You also nod and allow him to briefly squeeze your hand before you pull back and sit down again in your chair opposite to him. He already misses the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.
Aemond folds the paper with your face completely again and then puts it in the pocket of his shirt. Suddenly, this piece of paper is his most precious possession.
"Now you know something about me." you notice. Aemond can't gauge whether the fact bothers you or not. He hopes it  doesn´t. Before he can ask, you are already speaking again. "You like sword training. I could watch your training?” you suggest.
Aemond thinks about the training courtyard. About the loud clashing of the swords striking against each other, the sreams of the knights, the swearing and the rough manner of speaking among men. And then he thinks of you, his gentle, fragile wife. Sometimes the gentle background music that plays during dinner is too loud for you. You would hate it.
"No, this is not a suitable environment for you, my Lady. The men do not know how to behave in the presence of a princess." he explains.
"Oh."
Aemond sees how you stiffen a little again and turn your gaze back towards the fireplace. The fire is almost out. Aemond is afraid that the closeness he has found today will slip away from him again, and as a result, he starts to speak a bit too quickly.
"But if you want, I can join you on your walk tomorrow?" he is momentarily afraid that this will disrupt your routine, but you look at him again.
"Yes, that would be nice. I always take a stroll through Queen Alyssa's garden after afternoon tea."
Aemond must suppress a smile. He is, of course, well informed about your daily routine. Even though he hasn't really been able to talk to you until today, he has always kept a close eye on what you're doing. "I am happy to be allow to accompany you." his gaze falls on your hands folded in your lap, and once again, longing pulls at him to reach for your hand. "When we go for a walk. Would you allow me to hold your hand then? I know you don't like my touches. But...
"No. It's not your touches that I don't like.I don't like touches from anyone, regardless of who." you clarify things quickly. "But yes. I will allow it. I know about it know, so I can prepare myself for it. If I´m prepared I can hold your hand.”
This time Aemond cannot suppress his smile. A pleasant anticipation for tomorrow fills him and he feels as if he has made a significant step forward in his marriage today.
The ringing of the bell in the great sept makes you both flinch. Startled you look out the window, then you get up and walk through your rooms. "I have to call my maids and go to bed.It's already past my usual time."
Aemond quickly gets up as well and nods. Bad conscience about the fact that he disrupted your routine today weighs on him. He turns to the door and goes to his sword belt to put it back on. As he just fastens the buckle and turns to leave, you turn to him once more.
"Thank you, Aemond. Our conversation was good for me. I enjoyed it very much. I´m looking forward to our walk tomorrow and I'm curious to hear what you think of my poem."  and then you smile directly at him for the first time.
His heart starts to race immediately, and Aemond is sure that he has just fallen in love. Unconsciously, he places his hand on the pocket where he has put your poem. Then he returns your smile.
"Yes, I also enjoyed it very much. Good night, my Lady Wife. I will see you tomorrow."
"Good night, my Lord Husband.” you respond still with a smile on your face.  
Aemond nods briefly and then leaves your chambers. His steps are light, and he intends to speak with the steward first thing tomorrow morning so that he can arrange for the poet Marcus Hill to be invited to the Red Keep as soon as possible.
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daydreamerwoah · 1 day
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Family Tree
Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)
Simon x you story <3
Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago. 
"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear. 
"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.
One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?
"Yeah? Who is this?" 
"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"
"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused. 
"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell." 
You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?" 
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"
"Yes. Look I don't know who-"
"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."
While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?
When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time. 
"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello. 
"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.
"-Oh it's okay.." 
There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same. 
"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear. 
The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes. 
"C-Charles?"
You sighed, "Yes..." 
She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"
"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be." 
"He is your dad sweetie."
Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."
Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad. 
A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults. 
You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything. 
It was the beginning of a new life.
************************************************************************
You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.
When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard. 
"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into. 
"S'alright" the gentleman said. 
He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets. 
God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between. 
When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation. 
Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe. 
"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained. 
You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly. 
It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure. 
Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked. 
Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work." 
You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off. 
"Maybe next time then," she smiled. 
One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got. 
************************************************************************
The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path. 
Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell. 
"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."
You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery. 
If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)
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midnight-mourning · 2 days
Text
Pun War. (Sun x reader Drabble)
Requested By: @starspindle
Word Count: 498
Summary: You and Sun find yourselves in a heated battle fit only for the cleverest of jesters, but all's fun in jokes and war until one of you makes a slip up that might be a step too far. Or is it?
Note: This was very fun! It put my pun skills to the test. It also proves that yes, I CAN write fluff. Hope you enjoy ^-^
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"This is quite the disASTER, isn’t it?" You had said, picking up one of the scattered flowers in hopes of calming down the child in front of you. Note to self, maybe save any projects with plants for the older kids. 
It worked though, the little boy giggling as he scurried away, a few fistfuls of flowers in his hands. 
Sun, having overheard the joke from where he was currently managing the other children called out, "I’m rooting for you, Sunshine!"
It took you a moment to notice the pun, but then you smirk. 
"Thanks for being such a good bud-dy, Sunny."
He bows, eyes uplifted with glee, "My pleasure, Sunflower."
Throughout the rest of the morning, the two of you go back and forth with your puns. Switching from plants to anything around the Daycare seamlessly. Also seamlessly, the puns you make become more, flirty, in nature. 
"You brighten my morning."
"You've got me hooked on you."
“I crayon believe I get to spend all day with you.”
It's when you're on your lunch break that things start to escalate.
"You're quite a snack, you know."
Sun waves the last child for the morning group goodbye, shutting the door as his faceplate spins, "I think you're quite aDOORable, really."
You try to think of something good to fight back with, quickly realizing your options have started to run thin.
Then, you look down at your sandwich, and hold it up with a grin, "Yeah, well, I loaf you."
You expect a witty comeback, it doesn't come. Instead, you watch as Sun freezes completely, eyes widening at your words. Your smile falters. 
Internally you start berating yourself, 'Too far, too far, I went too far-'
"Starshine."
Coming out of your head you find Sun bent down in front of you, tone serious, "Did you really mean that?"
"I," You look away, coughing, "I, um."
His hand goes under your chin, tilting your gaze back to him.  
"Be honest with me. Please," He pleads.
You bite your lip, and sigh, "I, yeah. I-I did."
You close your eyes, cringing for the obvious negative outcome of such an admittance-
You feel a soft bonk against your forehead, then your cheek, your nose, and lastly your lips. You open your eyes in time for Sun to pull away again, rays spinning and a gentle spring in his words, "I love you too."
"Oh-um, really?" You squeak. Your face is burning. 
He laughs, it's light, sweet. His hand cups your cheek, "Yes, wheely."
You're confused for a moment before you think to look down, seeing that he's now standing on the wheels which are usually hidden in his shoes.
You puff out your cheeks, shooing his hand away as he laughs again, "No fair. How am I supposed to make a comeback to that!"
"Simple," Sun boops your nose, "You can't."
The rest of your break is spent sharing heartfelt grins, giggles, and maybe a few more kisses, just for good measure.
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Requests are still open until 12:30 PM EST Tomorrow (9/23/24)! Check out the original post for rules and such :) Thanks for reading!
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race-week · 2 days
Note
obviously Merc has a shit strategy but what happened there even it seemed like they truly are deliberately sabotaging lewis with fuck up strategies ever since then to make George look good or to make it look like he has what it takes to beat Lewis ( even deliberately shooting Lewis confidence for Ferrari next year even ) like toto is deliberately using lewis as their experimental person for the car and he can't say no to it like how many times has LH ignored toto just this season it tells me something that he never really is friends or that close with Toto to begin with and only close because of Niki lauda
Is this you?
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In all seriousness let’s take our tinfoil hats off for like 2-3 minutes please?
Okay so first of all,
I think from the very beginning they’ve used the wrong word regarding these ‘experiments’ because what they are is set up changes. People are acting like these set up changes are Mercedes throwing shit at the wall and hoping it sticks, when that is not the case.
What they are/will be is the driver complaining of understeer in a corner or oversteer or just general poor handling of the car and the engineers go back to the data from the track, from the wind tunnel and from the simulator and use that data to make educated changes to the car that should fix said issue.
They aren’t just going “oh I wonder what will happen if I change this part drastically”, these are typically very minute changes.
What the problem is, is that the Mercedes seems to have quite a narrow operating window and is quite sensitive to other changes, so track temperatures, wind, distance to other cars etc, and it’s not always easy to have all of this data to hand, hence the cars sometimes behave differently in the race (but this goes for all teams).
Now let’s talk about the strategy, I must admit when I heard Hamilton was starting on softs, I raised my eyebrows a bit but I was also somewhat commending Mercedes, recently (the past few years) they’ve been a bit too safe with strategies and this is something they’ve been criticised for a bit, and this was actually a good opportunity to try something.
Now looking at the data it makes sense what they did it, if you do the same exact strategy as those in front of you, you will always be behind them. Plus up until that point Norris had never held P1 after the opening lap, so Hamilton starting on softs on the clean side of the grid made sense as a way to make up a position or two and then pit under the safety car which was expected (because it’s Singapore)
Also Hamilton is an adult, so don’t infantilise him, he can make his own decisions, I highly doubt that he had absolutely no say in his starting tyres or his race set ups.
Toto Wolff and Mercedes aren’t just strapping random things to the car and saying ‘right off you go’ there’s meetings about these things, countless meetings over the course of a weekend.
Teams don’t deliberately sabotage their drivers, because at the end of the day they need the drivers to score points and make the team look good, Mercedes in particular want to try to stay as close as possible to the teams in front, in particular McLaren as getting beat by your customer team isn’t a great look for them.
Now have a think about what I’ve said before you inevitably put your tinfoil hat back on
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jetii · 2 days
Note
So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.
This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!
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Grateful
Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader
Words: 3,132
Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy
Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”
You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves. 
"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.
"Just one, but it's a big one."
You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."
"You will."
“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.
Nothing.
Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here. 
The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.
What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.
Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.
Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.
As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.
Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.
You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.
You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.
And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.
The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.
You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.
"It's not there."
You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.
"Where are you?" you ask.
"Behind you."
You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."
"I am helping. By keeping you alive."
You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"
"You should really watch your language, General."
You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.
"Help you with what?"
You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.
"What is wrong with you?" you demand.
He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”
"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.
"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."
"You're welcome."
You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.
It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.
The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.
"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.
"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.
You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.
"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"
"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.
"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"
"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.
“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.
He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.
He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"
He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”
You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.
"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."
He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."
"Why?"
He doesn't answer, just shrugs.
"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.
You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.
"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"
"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"
"Complain, probably."
"Then leave."
"Not until you do."
"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."
"What does it do?"
"You don't care."
"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."
"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."
"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.
"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."
"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."
"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."
"Unique how?"
"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."
Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.
"Cross?"
"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.
"Where are you going?"
"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.
You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"
He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.
You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.
"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.
"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.
Nothing.
"Crosshair, come in."
Still nothing.
You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.
"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.
You're not prepared for what greets you.
You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.
You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.
The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.
You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.
You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.
The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.
You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.
A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.
You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."
Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.
Okay, now you're furious.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."
"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"
"Yes!"
He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."
"Where the hell were you, anyway?"
"Helping you," he says.
"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."
He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.
You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.
"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.
"You're welcome."
"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.
"It is," he says.
You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”
"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."
“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.
His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.
“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"
"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."
"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.
"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.
You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.
The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.
You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.
"Thank you," you finally whisper.
“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.
"Both."
He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.
"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."
Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck. 
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.
But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.
You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."
You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.
"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.
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120 notes · View notes
midnightorchids · 23 hours
Text
Dick sat at the dinning room table, his case files scattered and his dinner cold. The room was quiet and fairly dim, his only light source was from a small lamp in the kitchen. He eyed the clock on the stove and then leaned back against his chair. The hard metal felt cool against his bare skin and he ran his hands across his face, frustrated.
There was a sudden upsurge of crimes in Bludhaven, all different MO’s, however, Dick couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was something else going on. There was a connection there, he just didn’t know what it was yet.
Dick pulled his hands away from his face and went back to the file that laid in front of him. He read to himself silently, highlighting and circling important details, trying to find the missing link between the crimes.
It seemed as if hours had passed by, his body ached and his fingers felt sore, but he carried on with his research, desperate and determined.
“Dick, you’re still awake,” your gentle voice suddenly spoke up, pulling him out his trance. He finished reading his sentence before he looked up at you.
He stared at your heavy-eyed and sluggish state, he smiled at the sight of your messy hair. You looked breathtakingly beautiful to him.
“Yeah, I’m almost done though,” he said, yawning. You walked over to the dinning table, the pads of your feet softly tapping against the wooden floors, and you sat down on the chair next to him. He reached his hand out, and with just one swift move, pulled the chair closer to him. It scratched against the floor and you gasped at the sudden movement.
“You were too far,” he whined, while grabbing your hand. He placed a quick peck against your knuckles and you smiled sheepishly at his affection.
Dick was always physically affectionate. He needed to have his hands on you at all times, the small of your back, your waist, your shoulders, he just needed to hold you. You often thought it was his way of grounding himself, especially when he was overwhelmed or overly excited.
You pushed yourself closer to him and gently rested your head on his shoulder. You eyed the mess on the table and that’s when you noticed the neglected plate of food. Your heart dropped.
“Oh my god, you didn’t eat,” you exclaimed, moving your head away from him. You were quick to get up, ready to reheat the meal for him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could leave.
“Sit,” he said and you did.
“But-”
“It’s okay, I’m not hungry,” the worried look in your eyes pulled at his heart strings, and he spoke up again, “I’ll have a big breakfast in the morning.”
“Promise,” you asked, holding out your pinky. You wanted to ask him to eat right then and there, but you knew it was no use. He was stubborn and worked up over the case files, food was the last thing on his mind.
“Promise,” Dick said, connecting his own pinky with yours, he placed a quick kiss against your lips to seal the deal.
“Will you come to bed soon,” you asked and he nodded in response. “Okay, I’ll wait until you’re ready then.” Dick smiled with his heart full and his eyes heavy.
Dick was loved by many, adored even, but no one made him feel the way that you did. No one cared for him like you did.
“Alright, let’s go to sleep now,” he said abruptly, closing his pen with its cap. He stared at the mess of papers on the table and decided that it was a problem for the morning.
“But I thought you had more work to do” you questioned. He didn’t answer and instead lifted you in his arms, the action caught you off gaurd. It was always likes this with him, he was unpredictable, but comforting. You knew you were always safe with him.
You placed your arms around his shoulders and he held you bridal style up the stairs. You laughed at his antics while ruffling his messy brunette locks. He grinned and repeatedly kissed your cheek, enticing more giggles from you.
“Let’s get my baby back to bed,” he said softly before kissing your cheek one last time. Dick opened the bedroom door with his foot and placed you gently against the pale blue sheets.
He walked over to his side of the bed and stretched before laying down next to you. Once he got comfortable, you moved closer and placed your head on his bare chest. Your fingers instinctively wrapped themselves on to the small locket around his neck. He wore your initials. That too, with pride.
You traced the charm with your index finger and Dick let out a deep, exasperated sigh. He ran his hands through your hair. His fingers grazed your scalp and you hummed delightfully.
The moment was intimate and calming. It made your body feel limp with an overwhelming amount of comfort and it slowly lulled you to sleep.
Once Dick felt your soft, rhythmic breathing, he kissed your forehead before muttering a small “goodnight, doll,” and then, he finally let himself get the well needed rest.
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buttercupjosh · 3 days
Text
The Perfect Proposal (the 4 times you expected that Mat was going to propose + the 1 time he actually did)
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(Gif credit to @mattymartin)
word count: 1,968
genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert
warnings: none
A/N: This story is based off of the song “Joy of My Life” by Chris Stapleton and I make references to this song throughout the story. I highly recommend listening to this song before reading my story. This story is short, sweet and fluffy. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season or even a past season). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. This is not a sequel to Your Favorite Secret (which you can still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌
(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)
“Someday it will come right on cue.” -Somewhere Love Is Waiting for You from the Schmigadoon TV series soundtrack
Prologue
Meeting Mat changed your life in the best way possible. You took Mat’s breath away when you met up for your very first date and since then, you continued to take his breath away in small doses every time you saw him. He added so much goodness and love into your life and you did the same for him. Mat felt so grateful to have you in his life and even though he made millions, being with you was his greatest treasure. You and Mat deeply appreciated each and every moment you had together, no matter how big or small it was; the two years that you had been together so far were some of your greatest times. You were both so smitten that you always looked at each other with such deep love and devotion and couldn’t get enough of your significant other’s presence. For a while, Mat knew that he wanted to propose to you but he just needed to figure out the best way how to and time when to ask that all-important question.
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It finally happened. After 3 challenging years, you finally completed law school and earned your Juris Doctor degree from NYU. All of your friends and family came into town to celebrate your accomplishment. In order to accommodate everyone, Mat graciously rented a large AirBnb house in the Hamptons to host your graduation party. You handled some aspects of the party planning while Mat handled the rest and the party went very well. During the congratulations portion of the evening, Mat wanted to give a quick remark to acknowledge your achievement.
“For the past 2 years, I watched this wonderful person ambitiously work their way through law school. There were a lot of late nights, early mornings and so many case reviews and vocabulary study sessions that I think I could go get a law degree. Y/N, to say that I am proud of you is a massive understatement. My love, you are so amazing and you did it. I love you so much. Because I love you so much, I have a surprise for you.” Mat spoke.
This moment seemed like it was the right time for Mat to ask for your hand in marriage; you had been dating for a while, you lived together and blended your families together, and he had just finished a great speech that made all of the party’s attendees realize how much he was in love with you. Instead, Mat handed you an envelope. Inside the envelope was a copy of a check for the exact amount that you owed in student loans and a letter informing you that your loans were fully paid off. You couldn’t believe what was happening and began to cry.
“How did you do this?”, you mustered out through your tears of joy.
“So you know how you gave me access to your book of important information in case anything happened to you? Well, I asked Liana to call the loan office to pretend to be you and ask for your account balance”, Mat cheesily revealed.
Mat saw firsthand how much distress and frustration law school caused you so he wanted to help out someone he deeply loved by eliminating the stress of having to pay for a student loan; this surprise was better than an engagement ring.
————————————————————
After your graduation party and after the Islanders were eliminated from playoffs, it was the official start of the off-season. This year, it was a milestone birthday for Mat’s dad so the Barzal family decided to do a European summer vacation to celebrate. You were important enough to their family that you had been invited and Liana, Mat’s sister, also invited her best friend to accompany her on the trip.
Hand-in-hand with the man you considered to be the love of your life and his family, for 3 weeks, you explored England, France, Monaco, and Mat’s ancestral homeland of Italy. In England, you indulged in English culture while Mat hilariously attempted a British accent. In France, you shared plenty of kisses with your lover in the City of Love, swooning every time Mat spoke French. In Monaco, you and Mat felt like the protagonists of a spy thriller while hanging out in the city.
Once you arrived in Italy, you got to see a different side of Mat that rarely came out. He had been to Italy several times before but he was thrilled to share all that he knew about that special place with you. Mat glowed differently whenever you got authentic gelato together or when he swam in the waters along the Amalfi Coast. Of course, throughout the trip, you still spent plenty of time with Mat’s parents, sister, and her friend and attended a lovely birthday dinner on a boat for Mat’s dad while visiting Sicily.
On the plane ride traveling back to Canada after your whirlwind European tour, you thought to yourself that you were going to come back to North America with a new jewelry addition to your left hand; you did have a lot of date nights and one-on-one time with Mat on the trip. However, your wonderful boyfriend did get you a gorgeous Cartier love bracelet from the official store in Paris and you were returning back with the gift of good memories that were created with your future in-laws.
————————————————————
The remainder of the off-season went by so quickly; between weddings, summer holidays, and other events all happening, you and Mat were swept in so many different directions. Time flies when you’re having fun and soon, it was already time to return to Long Island for the hockey season.
The usual ups, downs, and chaos of the hockey season lingered in your household but you navigated through it together. As the season went on, you spent a lot of time studying for the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and Universal Bar Exam, which allowed you to become eligible to be admitted to the New York State Bar next year. Even though you had those responsibilities, you still supported Mat at most of his home games. One of the things about Mat that you loved was how he would always quietly tiptoe into your shared home after a late game but he loved how you always waited up for him to come home after every game, regardless of what time he returned. Before you both knew it, the year was winding down and it was almost Christmas time. You and Mat had decided to host Christmas this year and both of your families were coming. This wasn’t the first time that both of your families had been together to celebrate an occasion; they were there all together for your law school graduation earlier in the year and both sides enjoyed being together as one cohesive unit but for some reason, things felt different to you this holiday season.
You spent hours preparing and making sure that everything was right for the arrival of your guests. Christmas came and went wonderfully. It was so nice to have your families together during the holidays. You gifted Mat a new game day tie and a gift card to one of his favorite road restaurants; Mat got you a nice bag to carry all of your work things and a personalized padfolio for you to take all of your legal notes in.
Yes, you were secretly expecting a diamond underneath the tree this year but it was okay because you still got other great gifts as well. Despite wanting something else, you still deeply cherished the time you got to spend with your loved ones.
————————————————————
After the holidays were over, you and Mat settled back into your respective routines until it was All-Star Break. Mat was not chosen for the All-Star Game that year and some of the Islanders players and families decided to go to the Bahamas for their team All-Star Break trip. The time away gave you and Mat both some essential rest and relaxation. At the end of February, you were scheduled to take the Universal Bar Exam but you took a break from studying to enjoy your mini-vacation. You stayed with your lover and company at a phenomenal resort; you swam with dolphins, relaxed at the spa, and ate so much tasty food. You also enjoyed lots of group activities with Mat and his teammates and their respective significant others. During the trip, one of Mat’s best friends’, Anthony, and his long-term girlfriend, Emma got engaged. It stung a little to see someone else reach the relationship milestone you deeply desired to share with Mat and you had expected that it was going to be you and your lover’s turn to share that special romantic moment on this trip, however, you were happy for your friends.
————————————————————
One evening, you came home from a long, exhausting day of work. After passing both the Universal Bar Exam and Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and completing some other requirements, you were admitted to the New York State Bar last month and got a job as a junior attorney. It was a pleasant surprise to see Mat cooking; he was subtly singing in the kitchen and tenderly caring for some handmade pasta. You couldn’t quite make out what song Mat was singing but it didn’t matter what it was because you had caught him singing songs that you’ve played around the house and pop songs from the radio plenty of times before. You smiled to yourself as watched him in his element before slipping away for a much-needed shower.
After you came out of the shower and changed, there was a beautiful plate of pasta waiting for you on the table. Mat tapped deep into his Italian heritage and made a delectable dinner for the two of you. You shared with Mat the details of work and although, he may not quite fully understand everything you were expressing your feelings about, he still listened to you as you rambled on. After dinner concluded, you and Mat were going to share a box of bakery cannolis and watch a movie on the couch but Mat told you to wait at the table and suddenly got up. He returned to the room with a look of nervousness on his face. You asked Mat if he was okay but you could tell that he had something important to say.
“I’ve been holding onto this ring for a while. There were so many other times that I wanted to ask but there’s just something that feels so right about this moment. Sitting here, I realized something very important. I want to spend the rest of my life, making you dinner when I can and listening to you speak. I want to continue to come home from my games to you and wake up next to you. I have the greatest honor of knowing and loving you. You have the sweetest heart that’s made of gold and you are like an angel brought down to Earth from Heaven. I want to be by your side forever. Y/N, you are the joy of my life. Will you marry me?” Mat declared while holding out the engagement ring of your dreams in a Tiffany blue box.
You were speechless because Mat was right; this was the perfect moment. You looked straight into Mat’s green eyes that you admired so dearly and accepted his marriage proposal; you were both super excited to embark on this new journey in your relationship. You and Mat swayed with each other to the sound of your fiance’s voice, serenading you to “Joy Of My Life” by Chris Stapleton, the same song Mat was singing to himself earlier. Patience was an important virtue and all of that waiting paid off at the right time.
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 8 hours
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A little help from my friend -Oneshot
@talesofreading I'm sorry it took me so long to get this done for you! I hope you like it. Happy belated birthday darling. Word count: 3880
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“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grunted as she walked into the Avengers communal kitchen and common room area.  She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a protein drink and some food to make a quick breakfast.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wanda piped up from the kitchen table.  The other Avengers were all milling about, getting their own breakfasts before heading out or training.  Y/N had an early morning training with the recruits most days, so she often missed the communal breakfast meals.
“Nothing,” Y/N sighed.
“Don’t make me read your mind,” Wanda warned.
Y/N glared at her, and Wanda glared back.  Their conversation got the attention of the other Avengers in the area.  “It’s not a big deal,” Y/N continued.  “One of the new recruits is just a little…too interested in me personally,” she said, turning back to the counter.
Wanda frowned.  “What happened?”
Steve, Sam and Bucky all listened carefully, slowly eating their breakfasts.  Y/N was suddenly very aware of everyone in the area.  “It’s really not a big deal–”
“It is if it’s bothering you, Y/N,” Steve spoke up, all Captain America at that moment.  “Especially if it’s affecting your job or you feeling safe.”
Y/N smiled at him appreciatively.  “I can handle myself, Cap,” she said.  
“Never said you couldn’t,” he retorted.  “But if we can nip it in the bud with this recruit–”
“He just keeps asking for my number, okay?” Y/N said, waving away everyone’s concern.  “And…cornering me after training.  It’s fine.  I can handle it,” she said, finishing preparing her food and cleaning up after herself.
“What’s his name?” Bucky asked.
Everyone turned to him in surprise.  Y/N had worked with him multiple times on missions and talked with him regularly, becoming good friends, but this still surprised her.  Bucky rarely joined the conversation unless prompted.  He was very low key and kept to himself most of the time.  So him looking at her with such an intense look and asking a question was a shock.  She stared at him with wide eyes.  “Tyler,” she replied.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “Whitacre,” she finished.  
Bucky nodded and looked down, finishing his breakfast.  Nobody said a word as Y/N quickly gathered her food and left the kitchen.  She shook her head at herself once she reached her room to eat then shower.  She’d been growing some pretty strong feelings toward Bucky for a while now, but tamped them down deep in her heart.  He didn’t need some lovesick coworker to deal with.  He just needed friends as he integrated into regular life.  There was no way he’d feel the same toward her…would he?
***
“Today we’ll be starting gun training,” Y/N announced to her training group.  There was an excited whispered chatter from the recruits at her words.  “I could teach you myself, but I thought I’d bring in the expert of all experts in this field.  I expect you to shut up, listen, and give him the respect he deserves.  Our guest trainer is Sergeant Barnes.”
Bucky was already walking into the training room as she introduced him, his face hard and stoic as it always was in these environments.  The recruits clapped for him as he stood next to Y/N.  “Thank you, Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted her then turned to the recruits.  “Let’s see what you got.”
After a rigorous training, where Bucky really broke down a few recruits and built them back up, each of their shots getting better by the end, they all left exhausted.  Bucky stayed behind, cleaning up the guns used for the training with Y/N when Tyler approached her.  “Hey Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her far too close for her liking.  
“Agent Whitacre,” she greeted him, giving him a polite but tight smile.  “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Ah come on, Y/N, I told you to call me Tyler,” he smirked at her.
“And I told you to call me Agent Y/L/N,” she replied, her eyes narrowing in warning.
Tyler’s face had a flash of annoyance before his smirk came back.  “Right.  Well, you ran off last time before I got a chance to ask you–”
“Once again, Agent, I’m flattered, but no thank you,” Y/N said hastily, turning away and closing another case of guns.  “I’ll see you next training.”
Tyler followed her as she walked away to the locker room to put the case away in the gun lockers.  She carefully put things away and turned to find him cornering her.  “Don’t be like that Y/N…” he started, taking another step toward her, his arms reaching up to cage her against the wall.
A loud bang made them both jump as Tyler whipped around to see Bucky who had set down another gun case sharply, glaring at Tyler.  He slowly approached, his eyes never leaving Tyler like he was hunting him.  He swerved around him at the last second, making Tyler flinch, then focused on Y/N as he inserted himself between them.  He reached his metal hand out and wrapped it around the back of her neck, angling her head up as he leaned down and kissed her deeply.  Y/N inhaled sharply, stiffening against him as she heard Tyler scoff.  The kiss ended too soon, Y/N barely kissing him back before Bucky pulled away and looked down at her.  “You good, Sweets?” he asked quietly, but just loud enough for Tyler to hear.
“Yeah,” Y/N whispered, staring up at him in shock.
Bucky looked her over then turned to Tyler, keeping himself as a shield in front of Y/N.  “Respect the no, recruit,” he said lowly.  “And your form is shit.  Work on that before next time or I’ll make an example of you in front of everyone.”
Tyler swallowed harshly, his lips tight and his eyes wide as he minutely nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said.  He glanced at Y/N then walked quickly out of the locker room, running once he’d got past the door frame.
Bucky watched him leave, then turned back to Y/N.  He had an unreadable expression as they stared at each other for what felt like forever.  “Just tell me if he bothers you anymore,” he said, then turned and left.
Y/N stared after him incredulously.  Her fingers lifted to her mouth, his kiss still searing on her lips, the feeling of his metal fingers holding her firmly but gently on the back of her neck as his thumb caressed her jaw tingling her skin.  What the fuck just happened?
***
The gun training lasted two more training sessions, and every time at the end of class Bucky would linger behind with Y/N to clean up, then make a small show of kissing her in front of Tyler as he was leaving.  It took her by surprise each time, Bucky coming from seemingly nowhere and with no preamble, just kissing the living daylights out of her, calling her “Sweets,” then walking away like nothing happened.  Once the gun training was over Tyler didn’t even look her way anymore unless he had to.  So Bucky’s little plan had worked, but now Y/N was confused.  And worse, she craved him even more.
Three weeks later Y/N and Bucky were on a mission together.  It was surveillance on a potential target that was dealing in high power weaponry.  Y/N and Bucky had barely spoken to each other since that last gun training, exchanging brief greetings and farewells as they passed each other in the hallway.  The other Avengers had given some side-eyed looks, since Y/N and Bucky had normally been pretty friendly before, but no one commented on it otherwise.  Now she was stuck with him in close quarters for the next week as they gathered as much information about the target as possible.
She woke up from her turn sleeping, getting ready for the day and approaching Bucky who was sitting by the window in the small apartment they were staying in.  He hadn’t moved from the spot since she’d gone to bed hours before.  “Anything?” she asked quietly.  
“Another prostitute,” Bucky replied, standing and stretching as she took his place by the window.  “Otherwise nothing worth noting.”
“How lovely,” Y/N scoffed.  She got herself comfortable and looked through the scope Bucky had propped on the windowsill.  The view into the opposite apartment where the target stayed was pristine.  “He didn’t leave the blinds open, did he?” she asked, looking up at him.
“He did,” Bucky grimaced.  
“Jesus,” Y/N winced.  “You got quite the show.”
“Not really.  He only lasted about two minutes.”
Y/N laughed loudly at that.  “Poor girl,” she giggled, wiping her eyes and looking through the scope again.  “At least she was paid.”
Bucky chuckled and started walking towards the bedroom.  “Let me know if anything changes, Sweets.”
Y/N stiffened and before she could stop herself she grunted, “Don’t call me that.”
Bucky stopped and looked back at her.  Y/N kept her gaze in the scope, her face flushing with embarrassment.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  But who did he think he was to use the same pet name that he’d used in a fake “situationship” to help her get away from some creep and then use it in everyday life?  Like he hadn’t rocked her world three times over?  She heard his footsteps come back towards her, then the shuffle of his clothes as he kneeled down beside her.  “Why not?” he asked.
Y/N breathed heavily, trying to calm her thundering heart.  She kept her gaze in the scope, her hands tightening to fists in her lap.  “No one to save me from,” she said nonchalantly.
Bucky suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her to face him.  She gasped lightly as he manhandled her, moving so he was kneeling between her legs, bringing his face close to hers and taking her hands in his.  His eyes were piercing as he stared at her.  “That’s not it,” he said.  “Tell me why not?”
Y/N blinked rapidly.  “That is the reason,” she whispered.
Bucky shook his head.  “I can tell when people lie, Sweets.  Try again.”
Y/N shut her eyes tight.  “Please stop calling me that.”
She felt Bucky’s metal fingers caress her cheek and back into her hair, holding her head like he did when he kissed her.  She fought back the shiver at the coolness of metal, not wanting to give away just how badly she wanted this man.  Y/N heard and felt his breath fanning her face as he leaned in closer.  His nose brushed along her cheek, his lips ghosting close to the side of her lips.  “I can’t, Y/N.  You taste too sweet,” he murmured.
Y/N whimpered, and without warning tears pricked at her eyes.  She shook her head and pushed him away, standing and walking toward the bedroom.  “I can’t do this,” she nearly sobbed.
“Woah, wait, Y/N!” Bucky called out to her.  She tried closing and locking the bedroom door but he stopped it with his foot.  “Hey, don’t run away from me,” he grunted, pushing the door back open and looking at her in surprise.  “I’m sorry–”
“Please just leave me alone,” Y/N sighed, wiping her eyes and turning away from him.
“Y/N,” he said, sounding wounded.  “Talk to me.”
“How am I supposed to talk to you?” She was suddenly angry, turning back to face him with a glare.  “You decided the best way to help me with a creepy recruit was to publicly claim me in front of him and who knows how many others by kissing me?  And not just once, but three times?  Calling me a cute pet name?  Do you enjoy giving people false hope and then walking away because it means nothing to you?  And expect us to go back to normal?  What the fuck, Barnes?”
Bucky recoiled at her using his last name.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “I…I should have talked to you beforehand, and not just done it.  That wasn’t fair, I’m sorry.”  Y/N crossed her arms, holding herself as she fought back more tears.  He took a step closer.  “And then I was a coward and didn’t talk to you about it afterwards, either.  God, I’m an idiot,” he grumbled, running his flesh hand over his face harshly.  “I…I really like you, Y/N.  I’m sorry I went about this totally wrong.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Y/N stared at him for a long moment then nodded.  “Thank you.  I forgive you,” she said.  
Bucky watched her sadly.  “Can I…can we start over?” he asked hopefully.
Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile spreading on her lips.  “Sure,” she said.  
He smiled and stepped toward her again.  He took a deep breath and licked his lips.  “I like you, as much more than just a friend.”
“I like you, too,” Y/N said quickly.
Bucky’s smile widened.  “Once we get home, can I take you out on a proper date?”
“Yes,” she said.
***
A week later they were coming home from a proper, successful date.  Bucky was quite the gentleman, taking her to a nice restaurant in the city, then a solo night tour (probably courtesy of Tony) through The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They grabbed some dessert on the way home, talking the whole time as they snacked on the treat.  Bucky had kept a hand on her at all times, whether it was on her back as he guided her around or holding her hand as they walked.  They got off the elevator and Bucky walked her to her bedroom door.  
“Thank you for going out with me,” he said, standing toe to toe with her.
“Thank you,” Y/N said.  “I’ve never had such a fun first date.”
“Really?  Wow, I’ll have to up the ante next time,” Bucky smirked, his flesh hand reaching up and playing with the tips of her hair.
“Next time?” Y/N arched her eyebrow.  “You seem very sure of yourself.”
“I am,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “But of course I’m a gentleman.”
“Of course,” Y/N teased.
“So…would you like to go out with me again?” he asked, his forehead resting against her forehead.  
Y/N pretended to think about it.  “Mmh, I’ll have to check my schedule, so for now it’s a tentative yes,” she smirked back at him.  
Bucky narrowed his eyes, his fingers moving from her hair to her jaw, tracing it lightly.  “A tentative yes?” he grumbled.  “I know you like to tease, but I’m gonna need an enthusiastic yes, Sweets.”
Y/N’s eyes slightly widened at the pet name.  He hadn’t called her that since they got back from the mission, and she actually missed hearing it from him.  She nodded.  “Yes, I’d like to go out with you again,” she reassured him.  
His smirk returned.  “Good girl, Sweets,” he said.  Y/N felt a shiver down her spine at his words.  His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.  “Can I kiss you?”
Y/N nodded.  “Yes.”
Bucky’s metal hand gripped her by the back of the neck like the other times, his metal thumb sweeping over her cheek.  He leaned down and kissed her softly, not as firmly or passionately as the other times.  It was like he was trying to reassure her that this was real, and he wanted more than brief sexual tension.  And as much as she appreciated that, she craved what he’d given her before.  Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she gripped his shirt under his jacket, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  Bucky moaned against her mouth at her urgency.
“I’m trying to be, mmh, a gentleman, Sweets,” he groaned, pulling away and lightly pecking her lips repeatedly.
“You can be a gentleman and fuck me at the same time,” Y/N mumbled.
Bucky huffed a sharp breath, like her words sucked the air right out of him and he sagged against her, pushing her into her bedroom door.  “Fuck, Y/N, you can’t say that to me,” he growled.  “God, you drive me fucking crazy.”
Y/N smiled as she kissed from his lips down to his neck.  “Your room or mine, handsome?”
Bucky moaned again and dipped down, picking her up and holding her by her thighs.  He turned around to his bedroom door that was across the hall and marched towards it as he kissed her deeply again.  He ripped the door open and kicked it shut behind them before pinning her against the door.  His knee pushed under her core to keep her lifted as his hands slid to her ass, feeling the cheeks of her ass as he opened his mouth, his tongue licking her lower lip and sucking on it.  Y/N shuddered and whimpered against his mouth.  Bucky gasped at the first noise he was able to pull from her.  “Let me hear you, Sweets.  God, you’re so good.”  His tongue plunged back into her mouth, tasting her tongue and moaning again.  “You feel so good…sound so good…taste so good,” he breathed.  
Y/N moaned at the rushed desperation in his movements.  Feeling so wanted, so needed, was making her lightheaded and feel like she was beaming.  Her hands moved to cup his face, scratching his beard then reaching up into his hair, scratching down his scalp.  That pulled a deep growl from his chest, his hips rutting up into her.  She hummed, smiling against his lips.  Bucky pulled her away from the door and carried her to his bed, laying her on it gently as he shrugged his jacket off.  
It was a flurry of clothes being pulled off and flung into corners of his room, limbs clambering over each other as they moved further up onto the bed, huffed gasps and whimpers.  Bucky nipped at her throat as he felt how wet and ready she was for him.  “Protection?” he asked.
“No,” Y/N shook her head, her nails scratching down his back.
Bucky smiled against the skin of her shoulder.  He aimed his cock at her entrance and started to slowly push inside.  Y/N’s head wrenched back and she gasped at the fill and stretch of him, and Bucky tucked his face into her breasts as her back arched, kissing and licking her nipples to help ease her.  “Fucking hell, Sweets,” he swore, looking up at her as she relaxed back into the bed when she was adjusted to him.  He gave her the first roll of his hips, making her tremble beneath him.  “So responsive,” he smirked.  
“Kinda hard not to be, with all this above me,” Y/N breathed, her hands sliding up his chest.  “You live up to your name, handsome.”  Bucky blushed, smiling bashfully at her.  “Aw, you’re so cute,” Y/N cooed at him, her hands reaching up to his face and pulling him down to kiss him sweetly.  “I’ll have to compliment you more often.”
Bucky’s hips thrusted again and her mouth dropped open in a silent moan.  “Quit teasing,” he said, licking into her mouth.  “As much as I love your flirty compliments, I really need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”
“Then fuck me!” Y/N said, rubbing her nose along his cheek.  “Please!”
Bucky inhaled deeply then started pummeling his hips into her.  Y/N’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on tight as he held her in a hug so her body wouldn’t be pushed up the bed at his thrusts.  He sucked and licked at her neck repeatedly, pulling more wanton moans from her at the mix of pain and pleasure, leaving as much bruising evidence for later as possible.  He kissed his way back up to her mouth where she easily opened up to him, their tongues swirling and nipping at each other’s lips.  It was never-ending and yet too short all at the same time as Y/N tried not to get lost in her head at the blinding pleasure.  Y/N sucked on his tongue and Bucky adjusted his position to snap his hips slightly more upward, which had her keening against his mouth.  “There it is,” he smirked, then continued his previous, frantic pace in that new direction.  He was hitting that deep spot inside every time, Y/N’s breaths becoming more short and hyperventilated as her head thrashed back and forth at the overwhelming pressure building in her gut.
“Buck…handsome, I’m gonna cum…ah!” Y/N yelped as Bucky sat up, his flesh fingers strumming her clit as his metal hand held her at the back of her neck like the other times he’d kissed her, but this time his grip was tighter, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck.  He forced her head up to meet him halfway as he pushed their foreheads together.  
“Cum all over my cock, Sweets.  Let me feel you,” Bucky growled, staring deep into her eyes.  Y/N gasped again at his words, then finally felt the snap deep in her belly.  She screamed as she came, her hands gripping his biceps and her legs shaking over his hips as her pussy clamped down on him.  Bucky grunted, his eyes shutting tight as he continued thrusting, prolonging her orgasm as his fingers never let up on her clit.  “That’s it, fuck!” Bucky hissed between gritted teeth.  “Where can I cum, Sweets?”
“Anywhere you want,” Y/N huffed, her body still twitching with aftershocks.  She was so close to cumming again.  
“Holy shit, dirty girl, huh?” Bucky asked excitedly.  “You feel so good, I’m just gonna fill you up.  Is that okay?”
“Yyyyeessss,” Y/N groaned.
“Good girl, Sweets,” he praised her.  His hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust even harder into her pussy, the sharp snaps making her jiggle and shake.  Y/N slipped a hand down and started rubbing her clit, her other hand gripping his wrist.  “Yeah, make yourself feel good.  You gonna cum again?  God, you’re so fucking beautiful, so pretty.  Prettiest pussy, Sweets.”  
Y/N shook harder as she felt her second orgasm barrel through her, her nerves feeling like they were on fire.  When she came Bucky moaned loudly, her pussy squeezing him beyond belief.  He finally came, continuing to thrust and fill her up until it dripped from between them and down their thighs to her ass.  “Bucky…” she huffed.
“Sorry, Sweets, I can’t help it,” Bucky shook above her, his cock still throbbing inside her.  “You squeeze me so good…and the serum makes everything, fuck…” he leaned down so his head rested on her chest.  “Makes everything more intense.”
“It’s okay, handsome,” Y/N smiled, her hands going to his hair and scratching his scalp, softly pulling at the strands.  He hummed at her gentle fingers’ caresses.  “We can just take a shower.”
Bucky hummed again, sounding more gravelly as he looked up at her.  “Dirty girl,” he smirked.
THE END
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ukulelekatie · 10 hours
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when I was 4, I broke my leg. if you had asked little baby 4 year old me what the worst part of having a broken leg was, I wouldn’t have mentioned the pain, the the cast, or not being able to get around independently. my biggest concern at the time was that I would be missing 10 weeks of dance class and wouldn’t be able to receive a perfect attendance award at my recital that year.
anyway, the whole reason I’m thinking about this right now is because it just goes to show how early on we incentivize perfect attendance and how this feeds into feeling pressured to work when we’re sick or injured. (and that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the many people who are forced to work when sick or injured, which is evil.) now that I’m an adult, I’m still constantly having to unlearn that and remind myself to rest when I don’t feel well. up until a few years ago, I was the kind of person who would show up to class or work with a cold because it was “just a cold” until the pandemic caused me to re-evaluate the importance of staying home and resting when sick. and this should have been obvious already, but as a result I’ve been learning that resting actually makes me feel better faster than if I had just powered through it.
yesterday morning I woke up with a migraine, and after lots of hemming and hawing (and seeking some validation from trusted friends that it was the right decision), I decided to take a sick day even though it was only a “minor” one and I had worked through many like it before. by early afternoon it was almost completely gone, and I started feeling guilty and worrying that I wasted a whole sick day when I was only sick for a few hours. but then I realized that getting to take some time to lie down with my migraine cap on is probably why it went away so much faster than on the days where I stare at a computer screen for 8 hours in a row. shocking, I know.
so anyway, if you’re reading this, you deserve to rest. yes, even if it’s “not that bad”. even if you can still power through it. your body and mind will thank you later.
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iheartz4starzz · 2 days
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NEVER THERE 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
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husband!chuuya x f.reader
SYNOPSIS: you only get to see your husband, chuuya, once a day, which is late at night when you're about to go to sleep. the next morning, you always wake up to him gone.
TW: slight angst, but dw, it'll be fluff at the end, might be a few grammar mistakes
NOTES: fun fact: a lot of these oneshots are based on my c.ai chats <3
Btw I never specified if the reader was taller or shorter than Chuuya, so you can just imagine it urself. ^^
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You heard the door unlock, revealing a redhead mafioso, who peaked his head into the room. He let out a sigh and stepped through the door, running a hand through his hair as he set his hat onto his nightstand.
"Doll, did you wait f'me again?" Chuuya asked and crossed his arms.
There you were, sitting on your guys shared bed with your phone in hand. You were playing mobile games while waiting for your beloved to return home after a long days worth of work.
"Yeah. It doesn't feel the same when you're not here next to me when I sleep." You replied, averting your gaze with a slight pout.
Chuuya let out another sigh, but couldn't help but chuckle and smile warmly at how cute his wife was. He quickly showered and changed into his bedtime clothes before getting into the sheets next to you.
Resting your cheek on your husbands toned chest, you let out a breath of contentment before closing your eyes. The sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms was soothing for you, which was perfect to help you sleep.
"How was work today?" You asked with a yawn, trying to keep yourself awake.
"Fine. I had to fix a smuggling deal that one of my stupid subordinates messed up." Chuuya sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
You laughed, then snuggling closer to the redhead. You let out another yawn, to which Chuuya noticed and ran his fingers through you (h/c) hair. "You're tired, doll. Go to sleep now."
You shook your head in protest, blinking your eyes. "Nuh-uh! I want to spend more time with you, so I need to stay awake."
Chuuya shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Sleep now."
"But I-"
"No buts."
You sighed, closing your eyes to let your sleepiness consume you. Before you could final succumb to your slumber, you looked up at Chuuya with tired eyes.
"Will you be here next to me when I wake up?"
Chuuya could only bite the inside of his cheek and shake his head. "No doll, I'm sorry. I have work tomorrow."
You nodded and closed your eyes. "I love you, Chuuya."
"I love you to, (Name)."
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The next morning, you woke up per usual to Chuuya not next to you. You let out a sigh of disappointment and stretched, then moving your feet to over the edge of the bed. You unplugged your phone from your charger and noticed a note and a red rose sitting on your nighstand.
You took the letter and read it, smiling in the end. The letter said:
'Dear (Name),
I'm sorry I can't be there to greet you in the morning. I promise I'll make it up to you next time with a bunch of presents, love, and kisses.
I love you.
Your husband, Chuuya.'
Though the letter was sweet, you couldn't help but frown in disappointment. That's what he would always say when you brought up the fact that he was never there for you. Pushing the thoughts down, you got up from bed and headed to your office to start working.
Usually you stayed home, due to the fact you were a stay-at-home wife, and partially of the fact you also worked from home. It was only those one times you went outside if you wanted to go shopping.
One work was finished, you went to the kitchen to make dinner and clean up around the penthouse. Once again, you ate dinner alone and left leftovers for Chuuya to eat once he got home. You then got ready for bed and got under the covers, bringing out your phone and began to wait till Chuuya came home.
Another hour passed, and Chuuya was still not home. You let out a sigh and laid sprawled out on the bed, starfish style. Bringing your arm up into the air, you stared at the hand with a ring wrapped around your ring finger. You chewed the inside of your cheek and rested that hand on your chest. You yearned for Chuuya's love, and missed him dearly.
Just then, the door to the bedroom unlocked, revealing the redhead who walked inside with a tired expression.
"Hey, Doll. I'm back." He greeted you with a smile.
"Welcome home." You replied and sat up.
After Chuuya was done with getting ready for bed, he got under the covers with you. Chuuya let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"I missed you." Chuuya told you.
You stayed quiet for a moment before responding. "I missed you to. But, you're not going to be here next to me when I wake up..."
Chuuya frowned. He felt a twinge of guilt in his heart and began to rub your back apologetically. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, (Name). You know how my boss is."
Suddenly, Chuuya heard sniffling. He watched you sit up from his arms and bury your face into your hands, beginning to cry. Chuuya felt his heart shatter to see you sobbing because of him. Chuuya sat up quickly and rubbed your back.
"(Name)?" He mumbled quietly, his soft voice laced with concern and worry. "Hey, what's wrong, baby?"
"I-I'm sorry. It's just that— I miss you so much, Chuuya. I only see you one time a day because you always come late from work." You sobbed and wiped your tears. "But every time I stare at my ring, I have to keep reminding myself that I have a husband! But it feels like I don't, because you're never here!"
Chuuya didn't know how to reply, and only felt his guilt increase from hearing your pain and yearn for his love. Chuuya cupped your cheek, turning you face towards him. "(Name), I—"
"Am I pushing you away? Am I to clingy? Is that why you're spending so much time at work instead of at home with me? Your wife?" You interrupted Chuuya, sniffling again. "Is your job really more important than your wife? Do you still love me?"
Chuuya's eyes widened when he heard that last question. He quickly brought you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "No, I still love you! And you're not pushing me away, (Name)—"
Chuuya took a deep breath before continuing. "You're not pushing me away, love. I would never allow that to happen, because you're the most important woman in my life. I love you far to much to ever let you go. It's just... it's my job."
"But wouldn't Mori understand that you have a wife at home? You're not just some mindless pawn for his use! You're your own person, Chuuya!" You argued, tears streaming down your cheeks. "N-No, I'm sorry. I understand that you're doing this for the both of us. I understand that you're working really hard to have a roof over our heads..."
"(N-Name), don't just brush if off like that," Chuuya stammered, cupping both of your cheeks. He let out a sigh before pressing a kiss against your lips. "I'll see what I can do, alright? Just... please don't cry. I can't bare to see you like this."
You nodded and laid back down in bed with Chuuya, wrapped in his arms. You sniffled again and wiped the left tears on your cheeks, your eyes puffy and red. "I'm sorry, Chuuya. I just don't want you to overwork yourself."
"I know, Doll. I understand where your pain is coming from, I really want to do something about it." Chuuya replied and brought your closer to him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "I love you, (Name). Don't think to much about it, okay?"
You nodded once more. "I love you to, Chuuya."
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The next morning, you stirred from your sleep, blinking your eyes awake and looked to your side. Frowning to see that Chuuya wasn't there, you got up and ran a hand over your face.
'Don't be such a bad wife, (Name). Chuuya is doing this for both you and him. At least appreciate what he's doing.' You told yourself and got up from bed, making your way to the kitchen to make breakfast.
As soon as you left the bedroom, the smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the air, tingling your taste buds. You breathed in the smell, licking your lips as you approached the kitchen. You peaked around the corner, your eyes widening to see Chuuya standing at the stove with a apron that said 'Kiss The Cook.'
"Chuuya?"
Chuuya jolted and turned around, quickly turning off the stove and smiled at you warmly. "Morning, Doll."
You teared up, smiling as you ran towards Chuuya, crushing in a hug. "Agh! W-Why are you crying?" Chuuya frantically asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
"N-No, it's happy tears, Chuuya! Happy tears!" You repeated, laughing at his misconception.
Chuuya smiled and cupped your cheeks, giving you a morning kiss. "You're such a crybaby." He teased and flicked your forehead.
You whined and held your forehead, pouting as you looked up at Chuuya. The two of you laughed it off in the end. Chuuya wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you connected lips, the kiss strong, passionate, yet gentle at the same time.
After a few moments, the couple broke the kiss and smiled at each other. You rested your forehead against Chuuya's, eyes closed as the two of your soaked in the moment.
"I love you, Chuuya." You whispered.
"I love you to, (Name)." He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"Soo... Kiss the Cook, eh?"
"Shut up!"
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ENDING NOTE: i didn't want to make readers wife role seem to clingy, or to unappreciative. i hope i didn't make anybody upset with reader, tho.
luv u all! <3
-mai
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myers-meadow · 1 day
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Fear and wonder: Jonathan Crane x reader pt. 2
Part one here
Summary: After your bad day, your boss up and quits. What a relief! Later during the week, you go to a concert and meet someone. Jonathan doesn't like that much, though.
This is a slice of life insight into life as Jonathan Crane's best friend - who he has a terrible, obsessive secret crush on.
Warnings: for this chapter, some jealousy starts setting in, some very 'protective' best friend shenanigans. Fem reader.
Divider by @saradika-graphics. Reblogs, comments and feedback are very appreciated! I'm so insane over the Jonathan x best friend reader - the intimacy of knowing each other so well, of his obsession just growing and growing, him controlling every aspect of your life, but how could you notice? He works from the shadows, he is a master manipulator. Ugh god I just love him ok
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The Monday after that bad day, your boss didn't show up to work. It was weird, but it was too much of a relief for you to ask questions. Besides, you didn't know her well - and why would you? There were whispers in the break room, but you let it all pass you by, just glad to have her off your back. The intern who messed up apologised to you - they'd heard about the treatment you received on behalf of them the week before. All seemed well.
Later that week, a lot more relaxed, your friend Morgan invited you out to see her girlfriend's band play in a pub on Wednesday. She texted you the address and you went there straight after work, picking up some fries for Morgan and yourself on the way there. The band was great fun, and beside you in the crowd Morgan beamed with pride. After, you got to talking with the bass player, who bought you a drink or two, and put his number in your phone.
During work the next day, you couldn't help but think of what a great night you had, and you texted Morgan a 'thank you for inviting me, it was a great time!', before texting Georg the bass player that it was a great show and other formalities. His reply was immediate. If you would like to go out for a beer sometime? It had you smiling all day.
The only night he was available was on Friday, and he'd visit family in another state for the whole month after, so begrudingly, you called Jonathan that evening. After some small talk, you finally dared to get to the point.
"Something's come up for tomorrow, do you mind we meet another night? I'm free all weekend." It was implied the weekend would be at least partially spent with him already, as that too grew into your routine. The Friday night would often turn into a sleepover, as you'd have a glass of wine or two, or make yourself a mojito, and it was just easier to stay over, or let him sleep over. Some nights, when you missed your bed and looked forward through a relaxed morning sleeping in by yourself, it felt like maybe it had grown into too much of a routine. At least, that when you kept your drinks to non-alcoholic ones, and got up to leave at 1 am, that Jonathan's twinge of disappointment was just a hint too intense. It was too subtle to even consciously register, but here you were, treading lightly when cancelling your weekly Friday meet-up, as though you didn't meet up two times a week every week ever since meeting him.
The slight pause at the other end confirmed your suspicions. "Of course we can reschedule," he said, emotionlessly. "What's come up? Is it work?"
"No," you shook your head even though he wouldn't be able to see it. "Something social." Even through the phone, you imagined him frowning. "What would you like to do on Saturday? I saw adverts for a new horror movie in theatres, we could see that, if you're in the mood for a film," you suggested, hopeful that a subject change would work to distract him. 
"Who are you meeting?"
You hesitated before answering. Something about his tone, as impassionate as it was, felt off. "Someone new I met," you decided to go with the truth. Knowing him, he'd read you like an open book on Saturday anyway. 
"I see. Well, I'll see you Saturday then. I'll think on what I feel like, talk to you later. Goodbye." And he hung up without another word.
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Even as you enjoyed your cocktail with Georg, you couldn't help but feel a bit restless. This indeed was you and Jonathan's night. But you weren't together. You've never had this kind of friendship before, this intense. It was hard to put your finger on what exactly it was, and you racked your brain on what it could be - thinking of the many times there were hints of possessiveness, of how he preferred you to see him as often as you could - instead of other friends. It made you space out a bit, but as soon as you zoned back in, you were taken with Georg's kind eyes. His gentle features, the softness of his features and his body, the strenght in his arms were all so different from Jonathan, Georg lacked the sharp edges and was all the more endearing for it. After two drinks, you reluctantly called it quits, citing having to get up early in the morning, although that wasn't necessarily true.
Georg wanted to drop you off safely, or perhaps he hoped to get invited in for a nightcap, but as you reached your door, he politely only kissed you. You looked at him for another moment, fumbling with your keys. He chuckled as he watched you, shuffling his feet. Was he as nervous as you were? God, it's been ages since you'd been with someone. Perhaps you should. Even if only because you wouldn't see him for at least another month. Live a little, you told yourself. Do what feels right. Every thought about consequence, about the morning after, all dissapeared as you wrapped your arms around his neck for a much deeper kiss. His hands groped you all over as you finally managed to get the key into the lock properly, and he was eager to get you to bed.
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Jonathan didn't feel like the movies. Instead, he choose a quaint tea house. You'd been there before, just once. It was a little higher end than you'd prefer, but their tea selection was incredible and really high quality. Everything else, including the jam for the scones, was made themselves, as well. The café had no background music, so when you sat down at a table with him, the chatter of the people around you punctuated the slight discomfort you felt. A tension that was punctiated by how you still buzzed from last night. And fron this morning at the breakfast table - God was he good with his tongue.
"So," Jonathan started, leaning forward over the tiny table in between the two of you, "how was your date?"
"Date?" you echoed, stalling to buy more time.
He nodded, reaching out for the menu and flipping through casually, as though he wasn't eyeing you like a hawk, observing every microexpression. "You always dance around the subject of dating when you're with me. I wonder why."
You considered him for a moment, rubbing your lip. Of course he noticed. The downside of having a psychiatrist for a friend. How could you navigate this best? Coming off accusatory was a bad idea, as was being apologetic because that would admit some kind of guilt you didn't have. You mean, you felt a bit guilty, but only because it felt like one measly date soured Jonathan's mood to the point of ruining your day together. Honesty and vulnerability have so far proven to be the only cure for one of his moods. "I haven't noticed, I don't tend to date that much," you admitted. "Perhaps I'm private about that part of my life, even with you." The way he glanced up at you, just briefly, taken aback at your careful phrasing, you knew you had him. "My mom was very controlling while I was in uni - as you well know, so perhaps I still feel the need to 'hide' it, or pretend its something it's not."
His hand found yours, giving it a brief squeeze before returning to the menu. "You know you don't have to do that with me. Mask, I mean."
Was his use of the work 'mask' here a personal one, or professional? You gave him a smile. "Baby steps," you breathed, relieved. "Which tea are you getting? The 'orange bliss' sounds really good. It's a green tea though." You scrunched up your nose a little, not fond of how bitter green tea could sometimes get.
"The 'autumn spice' would be more your taste," he directed your gaze to a black tea further down the list. "Anise, orange as well, cinnamon, fennel, cloves..."
You pressed your finger to his suggestion. That did indeed sound wonderful. "Which will you have?"
He hummed, eyes scrutunising every option. "I choose this place for their variety, but now that I have to make a decision..."
"I can choose for you. And we can share, too, if you want."
With a look to you, eyes dancing over your face, he shut the menu suddenly. "Alright, you choose."
When the waitress arrived at your table, you ordered your autumn spice, and a peppermint-rose white tea for him. 
"No treats? No cakes?" Jonathan asked you teasingly, referencing the last time you two were here and you wanted to try everything they had.
"I'm sweet enough for two," you joked, glad it seemed he was back to his usual self. You wouldn't call him cheerful, but at least he wasn't being passive-agressive anymore. The two of you chatted idly, about your weeks and your it was still so strange your manager just disappeared like that.
"Well, not that I'm complaining," you said, wryly. The server came back and set the teas out for each of you. You thanked her and she was on her way. They let you have bigger pots of water, with smaller cups, and your own saucer of tea leaves. "God, that smells good."
Jonathan followed suit, pouring steaming water over the leaves after putting them in the sieve of his cup. He poured yours too, like the gentleman he was.
"I'm curious to taste what you choose for me," he murmured, inhaling the steam, watching the subtle colours of his white tea swirl in the glass. His glasses fogged up a little.
"You still didn't tell me how your date was," he said, gaze sharp behind his glasses. You swallowed. "You said it was someone new and special."
Some part of you sensed it, yet were too afraid to confront the thoughts surrounding such discovery: what if Jonathan's protectiveness hid... love? A crush? What would that mean for your friendship? Not to think of how much Jonathan didn't seem like the person to be relaxed about the topic of dating in the first place. He seemed to know obsession, and only that - if his work was anything to go by.
"I really like him, we had drinks at that place Vee likes to go to."
"Who is he? Anyone I know? A friend of a friend?"
You shook your head. "No, we met at a concert last week. His name is Georg, with the beautiful rolling r," you gestured as you spoke, unable to stop a smile from forming. "He plays bass guitar in Morgan's girlfriend's band. They're quite good, too. A heavier version of indie rock, with some post-punk influences."
He clicked his tongue, before leaning forward to take a first, careful sip of tea. "Do you think you can trust him?"
"You sound like my mother."
He looked at you, blinked and let the accusation slide. "I worry about you, considering your past love life. The last one ghosted you after you slept with him, it was painful." He raised an eyebrow at you. Ouch. "Will you see him again?"
"I hope so. He's in a rather different field work-wise, but I understand not having personal and professional intersect, and we had such interesting conversations about that. How's your tea?"
He decided to go along with you and let the subject rest for now, his expression softened a little. Even thought it's only been months, once you started paying attention, it was rather easy to read him. Perhaps it was around you that he felt comfortable, and didnt try to hide so much of himself anymore, you thought aimlessly. The idea of that tugged at your heartstrings as he combed a hand through his hair. He tried a good sip of tea. 
"Hot," he grimaced, but then smiled gently. "It's wonderful. The freshness and sweetness combine really well with the white tea. Here, give it a try."
The tension dissapated and you were more than glad for it. Eager, you took the tea glass from his hands, not failing to notice the way Jonathan looked at you as you tried his tea. It was warm on your tongue, indeed, the flavours were delightfully light and airy.
"It almost tastes like a floral tea. Is that lavender?"
He smiled, almost proudly. "Very perceptive."
"Here, try mine," and you let him have the first sip. He nodded after he tried it, pushing it back to you.
"Very strong flavour. It's good, you'll like it."
And you did. It was exactly the tea you'd been craving; sweet yet spicy, warming you all the way down as you drank. The smile was audible in your voice as you said: "You know me so well."
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basu-shokikita · 6 hours
Text
Skwisblocked, a Klokllege fic
I really like @kaanagen's Klokllege AU about the boys going to college, so I decided to write a little one-shot based on Skwisgaar and Toki's dynamic in it. You can read the full post of her AU here!
Plot: Toki comes up with a bit of an unusual method to deal with his (seemingly) unrequited feelings for Skwisgaar.
As usual, full fic under the read more but you can also read it on ao3. Amazing art by Kaana also 🫶💖
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As usual, they had the last shift at the antique shop, which means it was their job to close the thing down, leave the place tidy and make sure the door was locked so no accidental shoplifting happened. Again. Toki wasn’t looking to get fired, so he was extra cautious with the keys now.
By the corner of his eye, however, he noticed a girl standing outside. She had long brown hair, silver hoops and a denim jacket over her loose, airy dress. A customer that came too late?
“Um, sorries, we ams closed.” He told her.
“Oh, no, it’s okay.” She smiled. “I’m just waiting for someone.” Her eyes darted to the inside of the store before looking away.
Ah. 
Toki went back into the store and heard Skwisgaar whistling as he arranged the boxes behind the desk, totally unaware of the exchange that had transpired. Toki opened his mouth and then closed it, choosing to turn off the remaining lights instead.
He liked Skwisgaar. He really liked him. What was there not to like, anyway? Skwisgaar was handsome, cool and really talented at the guitar. Maybe he was sort of grumpy, but it only added to his aloof demeanor. So it wasn’t surprising to him at all that he was so popular with girls.
That didn’t mean he was happy about it. 
__
About five minutes later, they were coming out of the back of the store. As Skwisgaar dunked the plastic wrap on the trashcan, Toki dared to ask. “Anythings funs for tonights?”
Skwisgaar closed the trashcan and rubbed his hands together. “Sleeps.” He walked down the alleyway, with Toki following quickly. “What abouts you?” A sly smirk. “Hangs with the college bands nerds?”
Toki wanted to act offended, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Very funnies.”
“Ja, dats my second names.”
“Reallies?”
“...Noes.”
Toki hesitated for a moment. “Does you wants to eats-”
“Hi!” They had barely crossed to the pavement when the girl came running to them. Before any of them had time to react, she continued. “I came by the store earlier.” She bit down her bottom lip, glancing at Skwisgaar.
“Oh.” Skwisgaar grinned. “Finds somethingks whats you likes?”
She giggled and, if there was any doubt remaining in Toki’s mind about her intentions, it was completely gone now. “You free tonight?”
“Wells-”
“W-We ams abouts to goes eats a borgers!” Toki impulsively got in between them. “We ams really hungries after works.” He rubbed his belly dramatically to emphasize the statement. “Buts you cans come pals if you wants?”
The girl’s gaze alternated between the two of them with surprise. “Sure?” She said, kind of confused. 
Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow at Toki but said nothing. He wasn’t lying, he really did want to ask Skwisgaar to grab dinner together. And just because he didn’t manage to get the words out before she arrived, didn’t mean he had to give up.
Right?
__
“Byes!” Toki bid his classmates farewell, before making his way for his next class. Although, checking his mail, he realized the professor had canceled the class that morning. Awesome, that meant he had time for a quick nap under the sun. Maybe pet some of the kitty cats in the grass. He was so grateful that this college allowed cats to lounge in the park, it was the perfect distraction on stressful days.
Merry on his way he was, when he spotted his other favorite distraction sitting at a nearby table. “Oh!” He raised his hand enthusiastically. “Skwisgaa-” But the word dropped out of his mouth when he realized Skwisgaar wasn’t alone.
Toki hid behind a bush as he spied on them. The girl sitting in front of Skwisgaar had blonde hair picked up in a high ponytail and rosy cheeks. She was wearing a white cardigan with a plain blue top underneath. Her auburn eyes seemed sweet and the way she stared at Skwisgaar was anything but platonic. 
Toki turned around and breathed in deeply, holding tightly onto his books. When he glanced at his books, an idea scoured his mind. 
__
“Skwisgaar! Skwisgaar!” Toki ran towards, shouting his friend’s name.
“Toki?” Skwisgaar called his name in confusion, only to be flabbergasted when Toki dropped his books dramatically on the table. “Whats?!”
“You gotsa helps me!” Toki cried out, pointing at his books. “This financements class! It ams killings me!”
Skwisgaar clenched his jaw. “Tokes, ams in the middols of somet’inks right nows.” He glanced at his companion. “You knows?”
As if he hadn’t noticed her, Toki turned towards the girl. “Oh, Gods! Cans you helps me? I has a tests comings up and-”
“Toki!”
“Oh, it’s no big deal!” She smiled gently and Toki almost felt bad for crashing their date. “Are you guys friends?”
“Ja!”
“Noes!”
She laughed heartily, extending her hand to Toki. “I’m Jennifer, Skwisgaar’s classmate.”
Toki extended his hand back. “Ams Toki!”
“Well, Toki,” Jennifer said, inspecting his books. “I think I know a thing or two about finances.”
He smiled, amazed that his plan had worked. “Reallies?”
Skwisgaar, on the other hand, was completely baffled. And Toki? Toki felt ecstatic over his newfound power.
From then on it just kept happening.
Like when Toki was heading to the club and he found Skwisgaar and a short girl with curly red hair at the fountain. The sun was setting which made the location all the more attractive, with the golden reflection of the water bouncing back on their faces. They were dangerously close, with Skwisgaar holding her waist, whispering sweet nothings into her so Toki had to think fast. 
“No ways!” He pointed at the couple. “Skwisgaar, you dumpeds Jennifers?”
Whatever romantic mood there was, it completely dissipated as Skwisgaar turned towards him like he had seen a ghost. “Heugh?”
“Jennifer?” She took a step back. “Who’s Jennifer?”
“Jennifers!” Toki answered quickly. “The sweet girls Skwisgaars was goings out with de other days! Why you does that, Skwisgaars? She ams so nices!”
The red-head turned towards Skwisgaar and he put up his hands instantaneously. “Waits-”
“Asshole!” She slapped Skwisgaar right across the face. 
“Augh!” Skwisgaar rubbed the swollen cheek. 
“Wowee!” Toki was surprised by the sight but she glared at him with anger. “Um,” He tried to look for candy in his pocket, as she approached him. “Does you wants-”
She smacked him in the face. “You too!” She said and strode away.
“Yous cheatingks on yous boyfriends, too!” Skwisgaar yelled at her, still massaging his cheek. “Whats?!” He barked at Toki.
__
Or when he interrupted Skwisgaar’s meet-cute at the library by constantly asking the girl about bugs. 
Or when he surprised Skwisgaar and the girl he was evidently planning to sleep with by waiting at his dorm because it was ‘guitar night’ and played songs for her under Skwisgaar’s annoyed stare.
Or when he kept sending drinks ‘on the house’ for the girl Skwisgaar had come with, at the bar he also worked part-time at. He got fired soon after, though.
Or when he-
“Dats it! Ams done!” Skwisgaar screeched, pants entirely soaked because Toki dropped soda on him when he was asking Skwisgaar’s date about her hand-made skirt. She left while laughing at Skwisgaar, obviously. “What does you wants?!”
Toki feigned innocence. “What you means?”
“You ams been ruins kings my dates for weeks! Weeks, Toke! Can’ts remembers the last times I gets laids!”
Pride swelling in his chest, Toki tried not to smile. “I just wants to pals, Skwisgaar! And dese ladies ams so nice soez I can’ts helps it.” He looked down in pretense shame.
Skwisgaar squinted at him for far too long, and Toki feared he had seen his through motives. “...You wants a goils?” He asked.
This could be the moment. This could be it, when he finally admitted to Skwisgaar how he felt. In the american movies Toki had seen, this is when the confession would happen. And Skwisgaar would like him back, and they would be happy forever after.
“Uh, ja! I wants a goil…friends, haha…” He scratched the side of his face, laughing awkwardly. Reality wasn’t so perfect like those movies.
“Wells, den just says dats.” Skwisgaar rolled his eyes. “I cans sets you up with somes goils. Just stops beingks dildos.”
“Haha, okays!” Toki agreed, slinging an arm around Skwisgaar’s. “Whats abouts a Marios Karts before works?”
Skwisgaar’s face was still severe, brows furrowed when he looked at Toki. However, his expression swifty softened. “Fines.”
“Hoorays!” Toki cheered, pulling his vintage console from his messenger bag. “Ams gonnas destroy yous!”
“Eugh, keeps dreamingks, littol dildo.” Skwisgaar said, though he was smirking. “Mademes Peaches and me ams a pretties good teams.”
“Yoshis and Tokes ams betters!” Toki countered, laughing too.
As they walked away, he wondered if he’d ever have the bravery to tell Skwisgaar the truth. If he’d ever had the courage to ruin what they had for a meek gamble. 
Perhaps one day, but definitely not this one.
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zeeohoh · 1 day
Text
OBX RAFE SMUT | MINORS DNI !
Tags : arguing, toxic!rafe, reader has female anatomy, oral, oral smut, slight fluff at the end(?).
A/N : NOT PROOF READ.
//
Rafe had been avoiding you for weeks now, his work, his dad, his friends, he has a million excuses to not see you, and you've finally had enough.
You were sat on your bed, watching Notting Hill, you had seen this movie a million times but hey, it's your favourite, you can never have enough.
It's a 21:00 on a Saturday, you were *supposed* to see Rafe, or at least, you had hoped you would, he's been blowing you off for weeks now, you guys had been going out for a few weeks but not everyone knew, and it would've been hard for anyone to believe it either because of how he treated you when you were around people you knew, it was like the better and comfortable you felt with him, the terrible he made you feel in public, in simple terms, he treated you like shit, Absolute. Pure. Shit. As if you're some fuck toy or something to help distract him and you only meant something to him when his body was on yours. You didn't entirely feel this way, he seemed to genuinely have feelings for you but his actions said otherwise, so you stopped, or you would've just been delusional. Tired of wanting him to treat you like an actual human being and tired of wrecking your brain over being torn because you felt he had feelings for you but he acted like you mean nothing, and treating you like a nobody, you grab your phone and block him, his number, his instagram, anywhere you have him on your phone, you block him, throw your phone on your pillow and continue playing the movie.
02:19 *ring* *ring*
Your eyes flutter open as you realize you fell asleep watching the movie, you're broken out of yours thoughts as you realize what woke you up in the first place, your front door bell ringing.
Who the fuck is at my door at 2 in the damn morning?
You get off your bed, quickly grab your robe and a baseball bat you kept by the shoe rack and peek through the keyhole, it was hard to make out who it was because of the rain, but you recognised the familiar silhouette of a certain Cameron. You sigh and open the door.
"What the fuck Rafe? Look at the time"
"I couldn't reach you anywhere, you wouldn't answer my calls, my texts wouldn't send, what else was I supposed to fucking do? You cut me off everywhere Y/N"
"Just..get inside, you're gonna catch a cold"
"I don't care Y/N"
You take a step aside to let him in , you barely turn around before he grabs your wrists in his hands and pins you to the wall,
"RAFE"
He's so close that you can feel him breathing on you
"Why'd you do it Y/N? Do you really want me out of your life? Is that what you want?"
"It's not like I mean shit to you anyways, Rafe"
"That's not true"
"Like fuck it is, you treat me like absolute shit, you purposely go out of your way to make me feel terrible, you want my attention but you'd rather ask for it by belittling me infront of everyone, by talking down to me or treating me like I'm just someone you use to distract yourself from whatever the fuck you need to be distracted from, sometimes the shit you say isn't even funny, it's straight up childish and immature and rude, I shouldn't even have let you in after the shit you've said and the shit you've done, I deserve better than how you treat me. "
You could barely finish your sentences without feeling the need to choke up.
"Y/N I-"
"You used to make me feel so good, so safe but now I'm scared to even talk to you because I know nothing nice is gonna come up and I'm gonna get hurt again, I know we're supposed to be just casual but I just didn't think you'll treat me like I'm a nobody to you"
Rafe's gaze softened, and his hands went from your wrists to your shoulders.
"I'm sorry, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness because of the things I've said and how I've treated you, but I can't lose you, I don't want to do this without you Y/N, I can't justify why I've said what I've said, what can I do to make it up to you? I'll do anything, I never realized how much it could've affected you, I was being a dick, I'm so, so sorry"
"I know I shouldn't even be talking to you rn, John B would kill me"
Rafe took your hands in his and placed a kiss on the back of both hands. He peppered kisses all over your hands, working his way up to your wrists, your arms, your shoulders, and eventually, your neck, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and nibbled on the sensitive skin right next to your jaw, which he knew makes you go crazy.
You shuddered under his touch and, out of habit, leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, kissing it, you turned up to look at him, your faces barely inches apart, and close the distance. You plant a kiss on his lips, it was soft, gentle, loving. His hands wander from your neck to your back, you guide his hands to your waist, he gives you a gentle nudge and following his cue, you lift yourself and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around him, his focus goes to your neck and you shudder, he takes that opportunity and slips his tongue in, his movements grow more eager as he softly grinds himself against you, grabbing everywhere you'd let him, at this point, you're both breathing each other, he's kissing you like he's gonna lose you tomorrow, like it's the last time he'll ever have you, your tongues move in a rhythm and your bodies are connected.
"Let's go inside" you say and he takes you to your room, he gently lays you down on your bed, not breaking the kiss once, not letting go of you even. once.
"May I?" He asks you as he nudges your top
You get up and help him remove the tshirt you slept in, he immediately went back to kissing your neck, your collarbone, and slowly made his way down to your chest. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, gently sucking on it, you let out a soft sigh as he bit it gently while his other hand gave attention to your other one, toying with it, kneading it then he switched to the other one, doing the same as he did for the previous one.
"Let me make you feel good ma"
He made his way further down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses.
"Tell me if you want me to stop ,okay?"
You just hummed in agreement
"No, I want to hear you say it, tell me if I'm going too far, and I'll stop."
"I don't want you to stop"
He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, and you lifted yourself up, helping him take them off.
"Turn the lights off,Rafe, I don't want you to look at it"
"You're beautiful, every part of you Y/N" he says as he gets up and turns the lights off, finding his way back to you, he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, softly massaging them. He slowly made his way to your core, planting a gentle kiss over your clothed core.
You squirmed in the bed, edging your body closer to his mouth, growing more impatient by the second.
"Easy now, I'm getting there" he said as he took your underwear off, folding it up and keeping it next to your bed, he licked a long stripe eliciting a soft moan from you, he latched himself onto your clit, lightly sucking on it, focusing on how you react to it, once he's satisfied, he pushes his tongue inside you, he speeds up exponentially, he's going down on you like a man starved, like you're the last meal he'll ever have, he doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop, he barely comes up for air, he only has one thing on his mind, making you come. Your hands find their way to his hair, grabbing them and tugging at them.He violently thrusts his tongue in and out of you, practically abusing your clit while you're a moaning mess, he hooks your legs over his arms to grip you and hold you down as you squirm and push yourself onto his face, his nose is lightly bumping against your clit, your moans turn him on and he started grinding against the bed, he suddenly inserts a finger in you which make you arch your back, pumping in and out of you, hitting your g spot as his thumb makes it way to your clit and rubs circles on it, while his other hand grabs your breast and plays with it, the sudden increase in stimulation drive you closer to your edge, your eyes are shut, you can't say anything, you can't think of anything other than how good his mouth feels, how good he's making you feel, you feel the burning sensation, signalling you're not that far
"Rafe I'm gonna-"
He doesn't even let you finish that sentence before he speeds up, you didn't think it was possible for him to go faster, but he was, the room is silent except for the moaning mess he's made of you and the unholy sounds he's making as he eats you out, he can feel how close you are, he hums in satisfaction.
"It's okay, come for me" You can feel the smirk he has on his face as he says it
Right as he finishes his sentence, you came. hard, harder than you've probably ever come. You're a panting mess, he slows down his movements but he doesn't stop, helping you ride out your high, once he's sure, he gets up and grabs a towel, cleaning you up, he kisses your thighs and helps you up on the bed, and lays down next to you. He holds you close and whispers in your ear
"I'm so sorry for ever making you feel like you mean less than to me than you actually do, I won't do it again"
"It's easier said than done, Cameron, don't make me regret giving you another chance"
you turn to face him and bury your face in his chest, slowly drifting away into a peaceful sleep as he plants a kiss on your forehead and holds you close. He'll spend as long as it is needed to make up for how he treated you, taking care of you and cherishing you for as long as you'd have him.
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