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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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A Little White Chapel Wedding (LS18)

(Part 3 of the Blind Item Series) Summary: Lance and his now wife had their reasons for eloping, he just hopes his dad will understand.

Lance and his girlfriend, now wife, had always wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight. Given how much hate and controversy surrounded Lance due to his father’s ownership of the team, he had already taken a major step back from social media. He knew that dating another heir apparent would piss many fans off, even if it was solely for love that they were together. Both of their families knew and greatly approved of the relationship but once Lance had proposed it seemed their families wanted to take over fully. Wedding preparations had been started without any input from the groom and bride-to-be. Seeing all these decisions made without the two’s consent had put a ton of stress on them. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives and they had absolutely no say in the matter. Guest lists full of investors and other business partners took away from the intimacy of the event. No detail was left unscrutinized and it was going to be far too extravagant, as this was going to be the first time they announced their relationship and the families joining together.

When Lance and his fiancee had gotten to Vegas, they had no plans of getting married that weekend. The thought only crossed Lance’s mind after the race.

“P5 Lance! Oh honey I couldn’t be more proud.” She said as she ran up and hugged him. She had been waiting what felt like forever to congratulate him, as he had been so surrounded the minute the race ended.

Pulling away from the hug, Lance put his hands on her cheeks as he said “let's get married”

“We are, Lance.” She responded, perplexed.

“Tonight. Let's elope and have an actual wedding about the two of us. No one else.”

“Honey, our families would kill us if we did that.” While the idea sounded wonderfully romantic and gave her butterflies just thinking about it, it just couldn’t work with the way things were.

“Who cares? We don’t have to tell them right away. We get married now, take an extra long honeymoon over break and then tell them once the season starts.”

“I don’t know Lance.”

“Please? It is unfair we don’t get to have the wedding we want. Who gives a shit about the guestlist with a million business partners we’ve never met. If they still need a wedding then we will do it their way but let's have our way first.”

She took a minute to respond, thinking the idea over before she finally gave her answer. “Okay, Lance. Let's get married.”

Lance had never envisioned his wedding going the way it did, but he also never saw it the way his family planned it to be.

Although as happy as he was, he felt so guilty when he thought of how his family would feel knowing that he got married without them there to see it. As important as business was to Lawrence Stroll, he knew his dad valued and loved his family above all else.

Over break, the newlyweds had gone on a bit of a delayed honeymoon, posed as just a really nice vacation.

They only got the honeymoon suit because they really wanted to go all out. No other reason…

They thought they had made it out unscathed, planning on telling their family in a week when they had gotten back from their vacation. Too bad they didn’t get to.

Lance’s wife saw the post first. He barely checked socials anymore. When the photos of them confirmed that the Blind Items post was about them, she felt a chill run through her body. Their families had to have known already, public image was important to both of them so they definitely had PR teams constantly checking what was going on. And she was correct.

“Honey, I just got a call from my Dad. He sounded pretty upset, and said we had to come home quickly and meet with him.” Lance said, confused and worried. His dad rarely sounded as serious as he did on the phone.

Wordlesy, she passed her phone to Lance with the tweet pulled up. She could see the color drain from his face as he read through replies. Fuck this wasn’t good.

What was probably the most stressful plane ride of Lance’s life was also painstakingly long. He couldn’t swallow the guilt building in his throat at how upset his father must be.

The once welcoming and happy house was now cold and silent as the couple walked inside. His father didn’t greet them, just told the two of them to follow him into his office. Lance just held his wife’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they made their way up there.

Lawrence still remained silent as he sat in his chair, looking at his married son and new daughter-in-law for the first time.

Lance was the one to break the silence.

“Dad, I know this is a lot but please-” He was cut off by the simple raise of his father’s hand to silence him.

“Why, Lance? We spend all this time planning the two of you a beautiful wedding just for you both to throw it away? For what?”

“Dad, you dont under-”

“No, Lance, I don’t. I mean how could you be so stupid?”

“Please if you just listen, Dad-”

“I have never been more disrespected by yo-”

“Stop!” Lance’s wife spoke up. She finally had to butt in. “You tell Lance you don’t understand and when he tries to explain you cut him off! How are we supposed to have a conversation when you won’t let anyone else speak?”

Silence spread across the room as no one dared to respond. She could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears.

“Dad. We eloped because we wanted something that was for us. The wedding you were planning wasn’t ours. We didn’t have a say in anything. From guest list to menu, you all controlled that. We wanted to get married on our own terms. While I will forever be sorry you weren’t with us, I am not sorry for getting married the way I did, to the girl I love.” Lance grabbed your hand once again to squeeze, to remind him why he did what he did.

His father didn’t say anything for a few moments. The newlyweds waited patiently, praying Lawrence wouldn’t fly off the handle again.

Finally he said, “Then I owe you both an apology. I understand that you both had expectations for your wedding and not having any say in the matter didn’t feel good. I wish you both said something. At the end of the day though, this is still a big deal for our families business-wise. You are my only son though, Lance, I wish I could have seen you get married.”

“We can still have the wedding, Mr.Stoll. Our plan was just to have something for ourselves, then have the main event be for everyone else.”

Lawrence smiled at that. Happy he would still get to see his son get married, even if it is the second time.

This time luckily, the couple got a bit more of a say in wedding preparations. With no comment from either family, the Vegas elopement was quickly forgotten once more pressing gossip reached the public.

While it still wasn’t what Lance and his wife had envisioned, having their families there this time was all they could ask for.

lance_stroll

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lance_stroll One for us and one for them

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#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #ls18 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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lowkeyerror · 21 days

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The Family Business Ch.8

WandaNatxReader

Word Count: 3k

Ch notes: Angst, Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: The family copes with the situation revolving Dragos

An: Sorry for posting so late.... hope you like it. Also posting from my phone, so sorry formatting issues.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“ Enough time has passed Wanda. We have to act now before we lose everything,” you speak to the woman in her office.

“I'm not ready for war Y/n,” She tries to dismiss you.

“Detka, I think she’s right. If we wait any longer it could, everything your father built would be over,” Natasha backs you up.

Wanda puts her head down on the desk, "I don't think I can do this.”

“It’s just like we planned, Wanda. Nat and I have everything on standby to close the ports, we’re just waiting on your word,” you speak softly to her.

“Fine, just do it,” she waves her hand, but doesn’t move her face from it’s place on the desk.

She had been like this for nearly two weeks. The shooting of her father seemed to hit her the hardest. She felt like she wasted too much time away from him and now he was gone.

The only way you were functioning was hope that he would wake up. He wasn’t gone, he was just in a coma. People recover from being in comas, they wake up. You just keep telling yourself that Dragos would be waking up soon.

“Wanda, maybe you should go home, I can handle this,” your eyes are full of worry, but your voice is firm.

“I’m capable of running this business Y/n,” she snaps back at you.

“ I know you are, that’s why they put you in charge. However, this is not a one man job Wanda. Dragos had days where he needed someone to take charge. I’m one of those people. Whether he’s sitting in that seat or you’re sitting in that seat, I’m going to continue to be that person. Now go home.”

She looks at you with something you’ve never seen before. It makes your brow furrow. The intensity of her stare isn’t malicious, but it’s unfamiliar to you.

“I’ll take you baby,” Nat offers, taking Wanda’s attention away from you.

Wanda takes one more look at you before agreeing to go with her wife.

“Stop by after work, I don’t care how late it is,” her demand makes you want to gulp, but you hold it and nod.

She’s out of the door first. You share a look with Natasha as you take s seat at the desk.

“I’ll be back, I can have everything ready for tonight,” the spy says.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

She leaves and you get to work immediately. You call in your dealers and suppliers to inform them of potential uptick in all products your pushing to prepare them adequately. You call your supposed allies, you’re vague but they know it’s a threat. More than threat, but a test of loyalty. Some of them dismiss you as you aren’t Dragos, but you’re sure by morning they’ll come around or go out of business.

There had been too much silence on your side of the business. Fisk was parading around the city saying that he killed Dragos. The lack of movement from your side of things only made it seem true.

Wanda had been placed temporarily in charge of the business while Dragos was out of commission. However, she wasn't emotionally prepared for this yet. None of you were in actuality, you all needed more time.

“ Where’s Wanda?” Pietro strolls into the office.

Your eyes are locked on the screen, “ Sent her home.”

“You’re running things today?”

You nod, “We’re going through with the plan to shut down the pier tonight. I put out some feelers, stayed pretty vague. I know they'll get on board when there's no other option.”

“You sound like him,” Pietro chuckles.

“I hope so, I got brushed off by one too many people over the phone. We need to let them know we aren’t weak. We will not be usurped, we are this city and it’s time to remind them.”

Pietro agrees, “My eyes and ears on the street have been telling me about Kingpin He’s telling others he fixed the Maximoff issue. We need to get a handle on this.”

“They will be dealt with and I’ll save Fisk for last. Next time I wont miss when I shoot,” your jaw clenches.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, taking in your appearance.

The bags under your eyes spoke for themselves. You hadn’t been sleeping well, getting 3 hours seems like a blessing some days.

“Not well, but I’ll be alright.”

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

You sigh, “How can I rest well, knowing that the man who has taken someone important from me walks around the streets celebrating it? It’s like he’s taunting me.”

Pietro’s hand lands on your shoulder, “We’re going to get him Y/n, I swear.”

Natasha strolls back into the room, “I’ve got everything set we're just waiting on nightfall.”

“Good, I’m almost done here. I’ve got some paperwork to get through and if it’s not too late, maybe we can carpool?”

Natasha smiles, “I’ll wait for you, it’s no problem.”

“I guess we’ll leave you to it Don Y/n,” Pietro jokes as he pats your shoulder before exiting the office, Natasha’s following behind him.

The paperwork takes longer than expected. You’re exhausted by the end of it, your eyes are strained as you finish the last of it up.

When Natasha comes to check on you , she can tell you’ve dissociated from the work you’re doing. It looks mindless yet stressful at the same time. You don’t even notice she's standing there for another 10 minutes.

“Ok you’re done, lisichka. Time to go home,” Natasha’s voice startles you.

You give her little protest, moving out of the seat. Your bones crack and you let out a yawn as you grab your belongings.

“Wanda’s going to need help tomorrow. The lines should be busy. We can open them up so Kate and I can help filter orders,” you mumble as you leave the office.

“No more work talk, we’re out of the office,” Natasha reminds you.

You let out a tired laugh, “Now you’re sounding like a Maximoff."

“I am married to one,” she says as the two of you get in her car.

“I don't know who's luckier you or her.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow as she begins to dive, “I’m pretty sure it's me.”

“You’re good for her too; don't discredit yourself. Wanda has always been a caregiver of sorts. She wants to take care of everyone. It's nice to see she has someone who can take care of her,” your eyes begin to close as you speak.

“You’ve taken care of her before. When she was fighting with Pietro, the whole situation with Dragos; you kept her grounded,” Natasha points out.

You shrug lightly, “I couldn't when I was younger.”

Natasha glances at your nearly sleeping figure, “You were just a child, lisichka.”

“I was fragile, she needed someone strong,” you feel sleep overtaking you.

Natasha goes to respond, but hears you snoring softly, “I don't think you could've ever been fragile.”

The spy doesn't wake you when you arrive at the condo. Instead she carefully removes you from the car and carries you up to her door. She rings the bell unable to get her keys while holding you.

When Wanda opens the door her eyes soften at the sight of you asleep in her wife’s arm.

“I didn't want to wake her. I overheard her telling Pietro she hasn't been sleeping,” Nat explains to her wife.

“Just lay her in our bed,” Wanda says, and Natasha complies.

Wanda heads to the kitchen, unable to sleep. She stays to make herself some tea.

“She cares about you a lot,” Natasha says meeting her wife in the kitchen.

Wanda just hums a response.

“You care about her a lot too,” Natasha looks to meet her wife’s gaze.

“Astute observation, sweetheart,” Wanda responds dryly.

Natasha steps into Wanda’s personal space, “You know what I’m insinuating then?”

Wanda finally looks at her wife, “No I don’t.”

“I think you're in love with her,” Natasha is gentle when she speaks.

Wanda laughs, “What are you talking about? Y/n is a part of my family. I’ve cared for her for years; healed her wounds, held her when she cried, taught her how to defend herself. Natasha, she was barley turning 17 when I met her.”

“I see the way you look at her Wanda. It’s the same way you look at me,” her tone doesn’t convey anger or sorrow.

Wanda’s laughter has yet to die down, “She’s my little brother’s best friend.”

“Then tell me why she can ground you the same way I can? Her touch calms you, her look quiets you, and her figure causes your eyes to drift. Just be honest with me Wanda.”

“Look, I love Y/n. I would do anything to keep her safe, but there’s nothing between us romantically,” Wanda gets serious for the first time in the conversation.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “You lost your mind about something from 5 years ago involving her, you were in tears when you couldn't attend her graduation, you talked about her more than your brother, mother, and father.”

Wanda’s eyes shift for a second, it’s the only sign Natasha needs. Her hand reach for her wife’s. Her thumbs pad the back of Wanda’s hand.

“Baby-”

“Natasha I can’t. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she tries to escape but Natasha won’t let her.

“Talk to me, detka.”

For a moment it seems like Wanda is going to talk it out with her wife. However a commotion in their bedroom puts brakes to the conversation.

They both rush in that direction. In the bedroom they find you fighting in your sleep. You’re thrashing, punching, and screaming.

Wanda’s eyes go wide at the sight. The distress on your face send her into fight or flight. She wants to help, but she’s unaware of what to do.

Natasha on the other hand has had her fair share of life like nightmares. She knows how delicate of a situation that they can be.

“Easy lisichka, it’s not real,” Natasha’s voice is firm as she speaks, slowly inching towards you.

Natasha’s hand slowly reaches for your forearm. The action cause you to jerk, but Natasha is unflinching. Her hands trailing up and down your arm trying to calm you.

“Baby you’re safe here,” Natasha slips her fingers between yours.

It’s sudden the way you jolt forward into consciousness. Natasha’s arms wrap around you securely as your chest heaves up and down.

Wanda joins your side, hand running through your hair, “It’s ok, you’re ok. You’re safe little krolik.”

You sniffle a couple of times. Before realizing the position you're in. You sit in a bed that you can only assume belongs to the two women, that are slowing your erratic heart rate.

“I uh- I fell asleep in the car,” you say pushing the women away from you slightly.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and then rub at your eyes roughly. The feeling of embarrassment starts to creep in on you.

“ You did, exhausted from all that work and no sleep,” Natasha says.

You nod lightly, “As you can see I have a hard time with sleeping.”

“It’s like that every night?” Wanda’s voice was laced with concern.

You try to laugh it off, “I get by with the little sleep I get before the nightmares.”

“Y/n, we’re being serious,” Wanda’s use of your actual name startles you a bit.

You take a deep breath, “Nearly every night since the shooting. But I’m a big girl guys, I’ve got it under control.”

“Wanda’s been having trouble sleeping too. If I leave just for a second, she starts panicking pretty bad,” Natasha mentions, causing her wife to glare at her.

Wanda crosses her arms over her chest defensively and that’s how you know Natasha is telling the truth.

“I’ve been trying to run a company and a business. There’s no time for a comfortable rest.”

It was your turn to give a stern look, “You won’t be able to lead well if all your senses are weakened from lack of sleep.”

“And how much sleep did you get last night before so graciously kicking me out of the office today?” She counters and your face heats up.

“It's not like I don't want to sleep. I’ve tried a bunch of shit, but nothing is enough for the nightmares. It’s triggering, you know because not only are the nightmares themselves intense, but having them in the first place reminds me the ones I used to have about my family.”

Though you've arguably been vulnerable with both of these women before, it feels harder this time. It feels like they are seeing a piece of you that is supposed to be neatly tucked away. Yet you’re too tired to hide it and you trust them not to use it against you.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I know something that might help,” Natasha offers.

“I’m willing to try anything,” you give her your full attention.

“Stay here with us tonight,” her eyes pierce through yours.

“Here as in…”

“The bed, yes,” Natasha elaborates.

Almost reflexively you look to Wanda to find her staring at her wife. The look isn’t entirely inviting and you take note of that.

You look directly towards Wanda as you speak, “I don't want to impose or be anymore of an inconvenience than I already have. I can actually just go home and try again.”

You attempt to get out of bed, but Wanda places a hand on your chest, keeping you down, “Y/n, you will never be an inconvenience to me. I don't want to keep you here if you’re uncomfortable, but if Nat thinks this could help you then I think it’s worth a shot.”

Your skin is hot under her hand, and you hope she can’t feel the way your heart is beating. It truly shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, you’ve laid with Wanda before . You knew what it was like to have her arms tightly secured around you while she played with your hair until your nerves died. Something about it felt more innocent then.

Now that you were both adults and Wanda was married, it almost seemed like crossing a line.

“What if this works?” You say looking between the couple. They share a quick look at each other before fixing their eyes on you.

“ We’ll cross that bridge when we get there lisichka. We should all get some rest, tomorrow will be very hectic for everyone,” Natasha again reassures you.

“ Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?” Wanda says, as she pinches the fabric of your work shirt.

You nod lightly and not even a second later Natasha is shoving some pajamas in your hand. She points you to the direction on the restroom and you go leaving the two redheads alone for a moment.

“Natalia,” Wanda’s voice is low and cold as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha shrugs, “What was I supposed to do, Wanda? Did you see the poor girl?”

“You did this to prove a point,” Wanda keeps her voice down with much effort.

“I think you’re doing that all on your own. This is simply helping a friend out. It’s not like you haven’t shared bed with her before,” Natasha shoots back.

“T-this is different,” she stumbles over her words.

“Why?” Natasha raises an eyebrow at her wife.

“Can we drop this please?” Wanda looks away.

Her wife reaches to caress her face, “Detka, we can drop it for now but sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about your feelings.”

Wanda draws in a large breath . She focuses on the way Natasha’s thumb cascades across her cheek.

She looks at her wife, “I love you. More than anything Natalia. I would never put you through anything that I think would hurt us. This to me is the most important everything .”

“I’m not doubting that baby. I’m not asking you this question to make you pick between the two, I just want some clarity,” Natasha kisses Wanda briefly after speaking.

Before Wanda can speak again you’re back in the room. You stand awkwardly as the couple behind you to the bed.

“So, how does this work? Do you want me on the edge or in the middle or..?”

“We’re following your lead little krolik."

Alarms go off in your brain but the aren't loud enough in your sleep deprived state. You take your place at the edge of the bed, closest to Wanda.

You try your best to keep your arms stiffly to yourself. There isn't any chance that you'd willingly embarrass yourself further.

It would be so easy to put your arm around her waist. The more you think the less sleep you get.

Wanda can sense the tense state of your body. Natasha words echo in her mind and it causes her to hesitate. Usually she would’ve already taken initiative to make sure you were comfortable. However here she was, scared that the feeling of your arms around her would send her into an overload.

“Can I- ” your sentence is aided by the action of your hand coming to rest respectfully on her stomach.

Wanda doesn’t speak but her hand lands gently over yours, keeping it in place. You relax at the action and unintentionally pull the woman closer to you. Her back is flush against your front as soft snores fall from your lips. You fall asleep instantly.

She doesn't want to admit it, but being this close to you makes her heart thunder in her chest. She feels warm in your hold. It’s a new feeling.

Being held by you is different than holding you herself. Her free hand reaches out for her wife. Natasha scoots closer, to be face to face with Wanda. Her hand interlaces itself with Wanda’s.

Natasha kisses the back of Wanda’s hand, “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Wanda whispers as her eyes flutter shut.

The three women lay together. For once their minds are quiet as they sleep. It’s peaceful, something that they can revel in before the storm of the morning disrupts their peace.

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#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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snoozisworld · 3 months

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Bi-Han x Fem!Reader - Arranged Marriage HCS (Part II)

A/N: AHHH finally. part dos. its really late cuz i lowkey forgot to set a timer for this to post soooooo my bad. anyways part 2 is also long so buckle up.

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

It's finally the day of the wedding, how will this go?:

- Today's the day. Bi-han's most dreaded event. The wedding.

- The preparations were hell. Maids and workers frantically running around, making sure everything was perfect. Bi-han hated it.

- He wanted to train today, but his father forbade him from it, as the preparation's would take up most of the day and, "He cant have the groom be late for his own wedding".

- Bi-han was in a sour mood all day, everyone in the venue avoided him like the plague in fear that they would be the next victim he would verbally attack.

- He just didn't understand. If this wedding's sole purpose was to seal in the alliance for good, why go all out? its not like its an actual normal wedding, it was just . . . so fucking stupid.

- After a few hours, the venue was complete. It was beautiful, various decorations such as flowers, table cloths and the altar arch were all a soft blueish green color combined with a clean white.

- The blue symbolizing the Lin Kuei, the green symbolizing your clan. If this was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other, Bi-han would have actually enjoyed it.

- Instead he was silently brooding in his dressing room, staring daggers into the person who was working around his outfit. He was fitted in a traditional blue long tang suit, embroidered with different gold and white accents.

- He looked in the mirror and briefly wondered what his mother would think; as he took in his appearance he actually saw some truth in Kuai Liang's statement; his mother, despite the real reason, would be proud of him getting married.

- He had barely heard the nervous worker exclaim he was done, and that it was almost time for the wedding to start.

- Standing at the altar, Bi-han felt like he's been waiting an eternity. He tried to look for his father and brothers in the crowd, but after seeing everyones eyes on him he immediately went back to looking at the wall.

- Finally, he saw you walking down the aisle. you had a veil (honggaitou) covering your face, and you wore a traditional sage green cheongsam.

- After taking your place in front of the altar, the officiant started the wedding ceremony. but Bi-han couldn't care less.

- He was too busy staring at your damned veil, and despite his personal vendetta against you, not seeing your face was just was just as annoying as seeing it.

- Finally the vows are over, and he has to lift up your veil.

- And there it was, your face. Your annoyingly beautiful face. You looked up at him as the veil lifted and he briefly wondered if you felt the same emotions he was feeling.

- You wore such a calm expression, it only served to make Bi-han angrier.

- You both bowed and walked off the altar, and just like that, the wedding was officially over.

- The next few hours were the banquet, the drinks, the food, etc. None of which Bi-han, or you for that matter, participated in.

- You both made a beeline to your respective bedrooms and stayed there the rest of the night.

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

Life as a married couple:

- The first few weeks after the wedding were painfully quiet, with you spending most of your time in the kitchen, the bedroom or the garden, and Bi-han training with his brothers, doing paperwork and shadowing his father.

- Until one night Bi-han came back from a particularly dangerous mission, and had cuts and wounds all over his body.

- He sat in your now shared bedroom, much to Bi-han's dismay, trying to stitch himself up.

- Unfortunately for Bi-han, he was not the best medic, and just kept injuring himself further. That's when you entered the bedroom and saw him stumbling and fiddling around with a needle.

- When you offered to help for the first time, he just told you off rather rudely. You considered just leaving him there, maybe he'd get a nasty infection from all the horrible stitching he's doing. But you're not that evil.

- So you stubbornly ask again and again, until Bi-han looks at you with a pointed look and begrudgingly hands over the needle.

- You stitch him up gracefully, with the upmost care. Bi-han didn't know how to react, feeling your soft hands practically gliding over his skin gave him goosebumps.

- He eventually just closed his eyes, and let you work quietly. You softly hummed as you continued working, something Bi-han found strangely comforting.

- After you were done, you set down the tools and looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite figure out.

- He finally realized what you were looking at, the cut on his cheek.

- You weren't staring at him just to stare, you were asking for permission.

- And Bi-han relented, letting you mend his face too. And he didn't know whether he regretted his decision or if he was thankful that you were there.

- If he thought the feeling of your hands on his arms was nice, the feeling of your hands on his face was next level.

- Bi-han felt . . . good. He admittedly loved the feeling, and enjoyed being taken care of by you.

- Suddenly you were done, and you retracted your hands from his face faster than he would've liked.

- But that simple act of kindness managed to change how Bi-han viewed you.

- He started eating your food and eating with you.

- You started accompanying him to his office, helping with some of the paperwork.

- He even started engaging in conversations with you. The more he learned about you the more he fell in love. Something Bi-han didn't actually think was possible for him.

- After months of dancing around each other's feelings, something unexpected happened.

- You were sitting down at your vanity when Bi-han entered the room. He was holding something.

- You looked up at him, then down at his hands. You asked him about what he was holding and he just told you to stand up and face him.

- And when you did, he opened his hands to reveal a stunning necklace. You were in awe and so surprised that he got you a gift your eyes welled up.

- You turned around and faced away from him, and he clipped the necklace on your neck. You looked in the mirror and you couldn't hold back your tears.

- You faced him again and thanked him, you had no idea Bi-han was capable of doing this.

- For a moment Bi-han looked at your tear-filled face and thought you looked beautiful while you cried too.

- You hugged him, and while it took Bi-han by surprise, he just pulled away and cupped your face.

- He expressed his gratitude for you, and as the man of a few words that he is, he just finished by kissing you.

- After pulling away and seeing you look so . . . elated, he realized maybe this whole arranged marriage thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

(2/2)

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

A/N: im finally done and my neck hurts. hope u guys enjoyed this :))

#mortal kombat #fanfic #mk1 #bi han sub zero #mk1 2023 #bi han x reader #sub zero #foryou #afab reader #bi han x you #lin kuei #smoke mk #scorpion mortal kombat #arranged marriage #subzero mk1 #female reader #bi han is whipped #writing #slow burn

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phenomenalgirl9 · 9 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader: Lost You

Summary: You've always been in love with him, but today you were done waiting for him, to see you, to understand you. You were finally done with Jeon Jungkook.

Wc: 1.9k

A/n: I tried something new idk how it is. I'm almost nervous to post it. But who cares 😶‍🌫️. Anyway Chan and Jimin were spotted in a restaurant in comfy clothes and I'm digging that!

⚠️: Its kinda sad (?!), Jungkook is a douche bag, a little suggestive.

_____________________________________

You kept calling him but no use, his phone was switched off. He should have been here 3 hours ago. You hoped, he was in a business meeting as he told you when you asked him to come home by 6 and he said he'd be home by 7 as he had a meeting.

You still remember the first day you met him, back when you were both 10 in one of your dad's fancy parties. "His father is important to the company, they are new in town, go play with him and be friends. Ok, Y/n?" Your mother had told you with a sweet smile on her face as you nodded. And the rest was history. Considering your circle mostly considered if the children of the other directors and business partners he fit in with all of you well.

15 more minutes passed, and you could only worry more, you walked to the kitchen to get some water and placed your phone and whatever you had in your hand on the counter and get a glass of water, mid way of drinking it you heard the sound of your door open and close and you rushed to see.

"Jungkook?" You called out his name and he looked at you wide eyes like a doe caught in headlights, an expression floated on his face which looked like remembrance.

"You were with her weren't you?" The question flew from your mouth before you could filter it and you found that look filled with guilt on his face. You scoffed and folded your hands and started to walk off to your shared room when he said.

"Why are you like this? She needed me okay!" Jungkook said. "What about me Jungkook? I, your girlfriend, needed you! And you went off with Minji" you said in frustration. "Don't say as if I was sleeping with her. She's still my good friend" he argued and you walked to the kitchen to grab your belongings and stepped inside the room he and you shared.

You slid down to the ground as you closed the door. You still remember that day she walked into your life, Seo Minji.

It was when you were 15.

"Hey, isn't that the new kid?" Mingyu asked and you nodded. "Aw she's sitting alone" Jihyo said frowning, "Y/n go invite her here" Chan said, elbowing you. "Why me?" You asked, not like you were opposed to this aspect but you were simply curious. "You're good at this. I'm saying from experience" Jungkook said flashing his bunny smile, the smile that made your heart skip a beat, you would have done anything for that smile.

And you did, you invited Minji to your table, soon you found out her father actually worked for your father. "I feel strange sitting among you guys,I don't think I fit in" she said shyly. "Bullshit, we're all people" you daid ensuring her, "Yeah, there's nothing much different between you and us, welcome to our group" Jungkook said, flashing that sane smile at here.

It was truly where it all had started, Minji trying to get the boys in her clutches. She thought you and Jihyo didn't notice her accidental touches or her kawai and weak acts in front of them. While Chan could see through them, Mingyu and Jungkook never did.

"Why didn't you two speak up when we were trying to get Mr Kim to invite Minji to the party?" Jungkook asked and Mingyu shook his head. You tightened your fist as Chan held it to ease you up. "She'd feel out of place," Jihyo tried to reason. The truth is you didn't want her to engage further with your circle. She already got Jungkook and Migyu to get her everything she might want. You watched as she used those two as her personal atm, a bat of her eyelashes and she had the

"Gucci bag she wanted but couldn't get as she had to buy her grandmother's medicine"

"Prada shoes cause she was sad her (nonexistent) fish died"

You three tried to show them the real deal, but they refused as Minji never asked, they were willing to give her because she "deserved to be happy too".

You smiled at yourself as you heard a knock on the door. "Babe, seriously why are you angry? I swear nothing happened, we just talked, Mingyu has been ignoring Minji and she felt alone, so she just needed someone to talk to and have a glass of wine with" He said. This always happened, One call and Jungkook would go running to her.

You remember when you were 18, and your father and Jungkook's father declared that you and Jungkook would be engaged. You couldn't help your smile, you would be wed to your best friend to the person you fell for all those years ago. You were happy that now you could help him see reason, help him come out of Minji's clutches. But one look at his face, and you felt all your feelings drain away, his face was filled with disdain and he walked away. He didn't even consider that you could be the one for him for once. Did you expect something else? Did you expect he'll come happily to you and agree to this, you idiot.

But, how could you? You lived to look into his doe eyes that shone bright, not for you, for Minji. You lived for that toothy smile that went brighter when Minji was there. No, they never were in a relationship, rather she never came into a relationship with either Jungkook or Mingyu.

You still remember that day when you were 21, you had just graduated and were at your father's (soon to be yours) office working on some designs about a deal with your assitant Jimin and your now business associates Bangchan and Jungkook. No you two still spoke, you all were still friends and he acted like that evening never occured like he never broke your heart and crushed it into pieces. You remember Mingyu rushing into your cabin and hugging you tightly cheering "She said yes! She said yes! Minji said yes". You were stunned for a moment, you all were. "To what?" Chan managed to ask the man who was happy beyond bounds. "To marry me!" He said, "I'll go home, I just came to tell as I knew most of you are here, I've texted Jihyo, now I gotta tell my parents!" He said with his bright smile. "Congratulations" Jimin said to the departing man, who screamed a "thank you". All of your eyes shifted to Jungkook, his face motionless, teeth gritted, his fist so tight that his knuckles were turning white, a single tear left his eye. You shouldn't but you felt like your heart ached seeing him and you realised how down bad you were still for Jeon Jungkook. "Can you guys complete the rest without me? I'll just sign it" he asked. "Yeah, sure" you said and he walked away. The next day Jihyo had called you and told you, "of course she's marrying Mingyu, he's the heir, the elder child, Jungkook is second to his brother. How is he holding up?" You gave the exact words that you told Chan earlier that day "i don't know". The truth being, he never even read your texts, you didn't have the courage to meet him.

You sighed at the banging sound from across the door. "If you need something tell me, if not please go to the other room". "Can you open the door once Y/n please. Please" he pleaded "Go away Jungkook please" you said, you wished you had said that to him that day two years ago. 3 days after Mingyu's proposal to Minji, you found Jungkook at your door, "can I come in" he had asked you in a broken voice. Your heart broke with his, you couldn't bear to see him like that. He came in to hug you, and you patted your head.

"She loves him, I have to accept that. I don't know how you do it Y/n" he said, and your eyes went wide, tears stung them. "How do you even bear to look at my face much less comfort me after all I've done. How do you look beyond your feelings?" He asked. "Since when have you known?" You asked. "Since 3 days ago, when I saw the hurt in your eyes and realised how you have always been there." He said holding onto your cheek. Your brain told you to pull away, to push him away, to throw him out of the room, when his face inched closer to yours. You knew what he's doing, yet you didn't pay heed to the voice in your head. You focused on the doe eyes that looked into yours deep. Those arms that slid around your waist and pulled you close. You chose to focus on those lips that were attached to yours. You had thought, maybe this time he chose you, maybe this is it for you two. And it was, for the next few months.

Jungkook and you walked hand in hand and stood beside Jimin and Chan along with Jihyo, on Mingyu and Minji's wedding day. Gyuji marriage was the talk of the town and things were finally looking up. Until 3 months into the wedding and you all were in the same party and seemingly Jungkook and Minji caught up, "you are still my best friend" Minji had told him, you tried your best not to drain a flute of wine on her. You didn't really mind much, ge did come back to you. He did love you. Things weren't so bad a few missed dates were seen and apologized and managed up until he missed your 2nd anniversary date and then your birthday. Once because Minji was sick and Mingyu was out of town and other because he mixed up the date after he had drunk a lot the day before with Minji and got absorbed at work.

But today was your last straw, you were done waiting around for him. You were done waiting for him to see you beneath Minji's shadow. You were done crying for him. You were done with him. So you texted Chan and Jimin, asking if their spare room was empty and if you could crash for sometime. Hence, you packed a small bag, took your phone and wallet and left the apartment. "Y/n! Y/n no. Please don't leave me over this. I'll be more attentive and careful. Y/n please." He pleaded. You might have stopped if this would have been any other day, but not today. Cause today you were done with Jeon Jungkook and the bullshit that comes with him.

_____________________________________

You don't stop, he lost you. He really lost you. He walks into the room you used to share. He found a book on the floor near the bed and a white and blue strip inside it. Jungkook was familiar with this strip or well, device, his eyes shifted to the words that were written on the little screen, 'positive'. "FUCK FUCK FUCK" Jungkook cursed as he felt like tearing off his hair, he did this to himself.

Part 2: I loved you so bad

Masterlist

Taglist: @bbl32 @back2bluesidex (for a sec I couldn't find you 🤣) @cherryblossom-2004

#imagines #bts x reader #bts #bangtan fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #bts fanfction #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc

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epinebleue · 8 months

Text

love me now (m) | 01

(Gif credit)

in which you have sex via FaceTime.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: dirty talking, praise kink, masturbation.

author’s note: tell me why i’m blushing while posting this lmao you can tell i haven’t written smut in years.

chapter index

“I really miss you.”

Johnny laughs quietly at your pouty face, causing the image to shake for a few seconds.

“I left this morning.”

“Still!” You defend yourself, head on the pillows and arm raised, holding the phone up so that Johnny can see your face. “The house’s so quiet. I hate it here.”

“You should’ve come with me, then.”

“I have to work, Johnny, it’s not like I didn’t want to go.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s accusations. He raises an eyebrow as if doubting your word. You know he’s only playing, but it bothers you a little. “Besides, you know how much I love your mother’s cooking, how could I say no to that?”

“Well, for your information, she won’t accept a no next time. She said she’ll cook all your favorite dishes.”

You laugh softly at that, flattered. You’ve been in a relationship with Johnny for two years, yet she loves and takes care of you as if you had dated for decades. Even if you can't go visit Johnny's parents that much, they still treat you like a queen every time you go there. You’re so fortunate to have them and their son in your life.

“She’s so cute. Tell them I love them.”

“I will.” Johnny places his free arm behind his neck and rests his head on it. “Tell me about your day. Did you have fun?”

“Oh, yes.” You hadn’t been able to go out with your whole group for months, ones too busy with work and studies, others trying to get their lives together. Managing to gather them in the same place had been such a challenge but so worthy. “Rosie’s starting a new job tomorrow, Jane will defend her PhD next month, and Jamie’s going to Hawaii on a spiritual retreat or some shit. Oh, and she made out with a waiter. And a bartender.”

Johnny scoffs in disbelief. “Classic Jamie.”

“It was a bet, actually.” And you lost 20 dollars, but you aren’t telling him that. “Wait a minute, my arm’s getting tired.” You rest the phone against the pillows and roll until you're lying on your stomach in front of it, hand supporting your chin.

“Is that my T-shirt?” Johnny asks out of nowhere. You’re speechless, having forgotten about it. Yes, you’re wearing Johnny’s favorite T-shirt, given by his father when he turned 16. It’s dark grey, with a drawing and the band’s name on the front: Coldplay. It fits Johnny perfectly but is huge enough to cover your body like a dress when you wear it.

“Yeah.” An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips because, up until now, Johnny didn’t know that you wear his clothes whenever he’s away. “It smells like you, makes me feel less lonely.”

“You’re so cute.” His eyes form a pair of crescent moons as he smiles, making your embarrassment grow.

“Stop!” Your face falls flat on the mattress in an attempt to hide away from his gaze.

“I mean it, you look so pretty.” You giggle against the soft covers. It doesn’t matter how much Johnny compliments you, you’ll never get used to it. “I’d so fuck you in that.”

You raise your head so fast that you hear your neck crack. You aren’t laughing anymore, but you still smile. Johnny, on the other hand, is dead serious.

“Control yourself, sir, you’re in your parent’s house.”

“How can you tell me to control myself when you look that hot?” That wipes your smile away, his words causing the effect he wants, triggering a heatwave that takes over your body.

There’s a subtle wetness growing between your legs, even if he has barely said anything. That’s the power Johnny has over you. One look, one word, is enough. You look directly into his dark eyes, filled with lust, and you chuckle.

“Fine, you’ve got all my attention. Tell me what you would do to me.”

Johnny licks his lips before speaking. His words come out slowly, dragging them more than necessary. He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb his parents. If they catch him dirty talking via FaceTime, it’s over for you both.

“I'd start by rubbing that cunt of yours.”

You slide down the bed and get on your knees, making sure that Johnny can see your face and body. You place a hand on your thigh, gently moving it upwards to your wet core, giving yourself goosebumps. You touch yourself over the thin fabric of your blue underwear, letting out an obnoxious moan. Johnny's reaction is immediate, a quiet curse slipping out of his lips.

You sight. “Like this?”

“Yes, like that.” He says, eyes fixed on your movements. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, of neediness. “Take off your underwear, babe, let me see you.”

It’s not a plea, but an order. You love when Johnny bosses you around in bed; when he loses his patience and manhandles you until he has you where he wants. And it looks like the dynamic will never change, not even when he’s in Chicago, in his childhood room. You throw your panties aside and go back to the same position, knees on the mattress, fingers rubbing your clit now.

“Fuck, I’m so wet.”

You press your fingertips against your folds, waiting for instructions. Johnny moves his arm from behind his head and it disappears from the frame. A soft growl erupts from his throat, letting you know that he’s pleasuring himself, too.

“Touch yourself for me, baby girl.” The pet name has you drooling, rushing to insert a finger inside of you, slowly, to make sure Johnny can enjoy the moment. Then, he demands. “I want to see your body. Lift the T-shirt.”

You rush to grab the hem of the garment but take your sweet time to pull it up, teasing him. He clenches his jaw and the image shakes a bit. You close your eyes and picture Johnny’s hand around his dick, the leaking tip red and angry. You imagine him using his pre cum as a lube, his hand moving up and down, but never being satisfied, because only you can get him off. You bring the hem of the T-shirt to your mouth and bite it, keeping it up so that he can see your naked body.

“Shit... add another finger.”

You listen and slide in a second finger, the feeling of being stretched making you moan louder. It's a good thing Johnny has AirPods on.

You move your fingers in and out, desperate and lost in the view in front of you: Johnny has closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, leaving his neck deliciously exposed. You wish you could kiss it, bite it, mark him. You know he loves that kinky shit. Unconsciously, your fingers move faster, the sound of your juices flooding the room. You wonder if Johnny can hear that.

“Does it feel good, babe?” He asks, eyes falling on you again. You nod frenetically, unable to form any other words right now. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Are you a good girl?”

You fall apart every time he compliments you. You clench around your fingers and, again, all you do is nod. You moan in between sighs, biting on the T-shirt as you throw your head back. The fabric is all damp and your tongue is dry.

With your free hand, you rub your clit as your fingers reach further inside you. You wish Johnny was the one fucking you right now, your fingers being nothing compared to him. Hell, you want him so bad. Why does he have to be so far away?

Johnny growls again. “You're doing so good.”

Your mind is all over the place. Johnny's words encourage you to add another finger, even if he doesn't order you to do so. Johnny pants quietly enough so his parents don't hear him, but you do. Your hand cups your sex every time you thrust with your fingers, your climax getting closer and closer.

You open your mouth and the T-shirt slides down a bit. You grab it in a fist over your chest, making sure Johnny still has access to your body.

“John, I'm so close.” You whine with your eyes closed shut, the knot in your stomach growing with every caress of your clit.

“Wait for me, baby.” Once again, he demands. “You can do that, right?”

You're not sure if you can, but still, you nod, wanting to make Johnny proud. You want to be a good girl, so you keep pumping your fingers.

“But I want to see you touching yourself, please.”

“Sure, babe.”

Johnny smirks, and then his face disappears from your screen. Instead, you welcome the amazing view of his hand pumping his dick, erect and red. It looks so delicious you wish you could put it in your mouth. Damn, the things you would do if he was here with you. The image’s enough to send you over the edge, but you still try by all means to delay your orgasm. And it works, at least until you hear Johnny calling your name.

“Johnny, I can't-”

He must have noticed your desperation because his next words come out softly. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”

By the time you’re able to finish, your hand aches like hell. Your hand gets caught in between your legs as you cum. Your orgasm feels like an electric shock that shakes you to the bone as you call Johnny, desperately. You witness him finishing seconds later, white ropes landing on his stomach, abs clenching as your name slips from his mouth like a prayer. You thrust your fingers a few more times, riding your orgasm until the feeling fades away.

You pull them out, both hands landing on the bed before you fall on it, rolling to your side. You’re tired and sweaty, and the T-shirt sticks to your skin. Only your pants can be heard for a moment. Shortly after, Johnny switches the camera again.

“Fuck, that was hot.” He pushes his hair back, panting. “You’re so hot. I love you.”

The compliment fills you with pride, but his confession makes you smile widely, stupidly.

“I love you, too.”

You close your eyes for a few seconds, only opening them at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “Go sleep, princess, you’re tired.”

“No.” You whine. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“You’re literally falling asleep as we speak.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes you melt: adoration. You love it when Johnny looks at you like this.

“Nonsense.”

“I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”

You pout, closing your eyes again. His voice is so soothing that you could fall asleep as he speaks. “Promise me.”

“I pinky-promise you.”

“Okay...” You giggle. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He zooms in on his lips, and teasingly whispers. “Dream of me.”

Hell, you miss him so much.

No reposting or translations allowed.

#nct smut #nct fic #nct johnny #johnny smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #johnny imagine #nct johnny fic #johnny suh

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eras-mus · 4 months

Note

I'M BACK BECAUSE YOU NEED ASK

So just, hear me out. M or GN!Reader that is biologically Hades and Maleficent son/child, Aurora is his little sister (he's in second year at NRC and Aurora in first year in a girl school).

How Platonic!Crowley, and any character’s you want, will react at the family days when they come to school for Reader ? (It's bad explained, i know.)

Ignore it if you don't want to write it.

Have a good day and night.

PS : The Alice Yuu was perfect.

Maleficent! ± Hades! Male! Reader

×You are Malleus's cousin

×Asra is your adopted sister and unknown to everyone, Silvers actual sister

×You and Idia are childhood friends (I don't think he's related to Hades, correct me if I'm wrong)

×You're not Yuu

×You're and third year Ignihyde student

Sorry I haven't been posting, I didn't have any motivation!

There were many things that were well known about Y/n, most people considered him an open book, but his family life stayed a mystery.

There were a few things that people could gather by just talking to him; his mom died, his dad remarried (Persephone), and he had known the shroud brothers for a long time.

The reason Y/n kept his family a secret was because he saw how people would avoid Malleus, leaving him alone and unwelcomed, but for some ungodly reason, nothing could be left a secret in this school.

Family day.

A day that Y/n had managed to avoid in the past thanks to either Idias hacking or a quick excuse that only makes sense because Crowley is an idiot.

But this year he forgot all about the dreaded day.

The day started as any other, he straightened out his uniform, found something to drink, and started making his way to the cafeteria.

But then he saw those gargoyles from the underworld waiting for him in the second he stepped out of his dorm mirror.

"He he- see I told you he'd be here if we waited long enough!" The shorter one spoke.

"Well, excuse me for hoping the boy had learned to get up earlier for once!" Panic shouted back.

"What are you two doing here?" Y/n asked, stunned.

"Well, we just missed ya and your horrible attitude soooo much!" Pain started. "NO! Its family day dumb-fuck."

"Does that mean dads here!"

"Of course, he is, he wasn't going to miss is first AND only chance to see you at your school." The taller one said in a tone most wouldn't dare have with the son of a god.

"FUCK! I gotta go!"

And just like that, the teenager was off like his head was going to be cut off.

"Not even a 'How are you?' or 'How's the Underworld?' Typical."

The cafeteria was filled with people in awe of one of the most recognizable people in the world. No one had the nerve to approach him as he tried to find his son and instead just circled around him, entranced by his existence.

"Have any of you seen my son?" The god asked the crowd, "He's about this tall, Ingihyde, of course, and always half asleep."

"Uncle! So good to see you." A familiar pair of horns made its way through the crowd.

"Ah, Malleus, have you seen Y/n? It appears no one else here as." Hades asked as he brought the younger boy in for a hug.

Malleus chuckled, "Unfortunately, not today, he normally sleeps in quite late."

"I assume he got that habit from that Shroud boy?"

"Probably."

"DAD!"

Everyone turned to see the boy whose father left everyone so stunned and audible gasps were heard as students quickly realized the similarities between their magic.

"Y/n! My boy! How have you been? Have you finally made some new friends?"

"What do you mean new friends! I have plenty of friends-"

"Name three other than Idia and Ortho."

"Well, there's Silver, and..." He thought for a moment "Well how have you been?"

"Well busy with the Underworld and ACTUAL responsibilities, unlike Zeus and the other gods."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go talk about that outside." Y/n said trying to rush his dad outside.

As they entered the courtyard Y/n noticed Deuce showing his mom around and Ace getting bullied by his brother. As Hades rambled on to his son about how unfair his job was Crowely took notice of the god and quickly made his way over in hope of some positive publicity.

"Y/n! I'm so happy to see you and your father enjoying yourselves!"

"Well, everything would be perfect but we're waiting on a couple more people." Hades started. "Do you think you could tell them where we are?"

"Who else did you invite!?" Y/n could already feel the eyebags start to form under his eyes as he wished he'd stayed in bed.

"Asra and Persephone!" Hades smiled.

"Stay here I'll go find them."

"Stay here and do what? I'll be bored out of my mind."

"Talk to Crowley or something! I don't care, just stay here!"

Y/n made his way back to the Ingihyde dorm, if he was going to do this, he was going to make Idia suffer with him.

"Get your ass up! It's family day!" The boy just barged into the others dorm, as he often did.

"What does that have to do with me!?"

After a couple minutes of arguing, Idia was now walking close behind Y/n with his tablet in hand. The loud environment was Idias worst nightmare, and he will never know how he was talked into this.

"Y/N!"

That was all the two heard before said boy was tackled to the ground by a familiar head of long white hair. A few looks a shock were shot their way making Idia jump.

"Asra! GET OFF OF ME!"

"So whiney!" She stuck her togue out. "Are you mad cause I interrupted your time with you boyfriend!"

Once again Idia jumped from something the girl did. This has been an ongoing joke that was only funny to one girl and very annoying to the brother and his friend.

"He wishes!" Y/n said, shoving his sister lightly.

"Now kids," a voice so graceful that it could only belong to one person spoke. "We're in public, act like it."

Soon the four made it back to the courtyard where Malleus, Pain, and Panic had joined Hades and Crowley.

"So, you started the Gargoyle club in our honor, right?" Panic asked, nudging Malleus.

Malleus laughed in response, "No but you two did he with my interest in gargoyles."

As soon as the four joined the crowed Crowely insisted he get a picture.

"It will be perfect for the school Magicam! Now say 'family!'"

#twst x reader #twst scenarios #twst x male reader #grim twst #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #maleficent #Hades #pain and panic

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floralcyanide · 25 days

Text

ɪғ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ — ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ

john “bucky” egan x fem!reader

Lunch with Dr. Egan leads to him showing you old photographs at his home, which opens a door to a new side of your advisor and your relationship with him.

(Headcanons: One | Two)

warnings: age gap (reader is 23-25, Bucky is in his 40s), descriptions of war, the insinuation of ptsd, smoking, drinking, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

author’s note: here is the first part (maybe) to my Professor Bucky au!! if ya'll want more just let me know, I'm indecisive about it tbh. I probably won't write smut for this series though. feedback is appreciated!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | (If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Wanna Be Right - Barbara Mandrell

(when it’s from Bucky’s point of view, I will use Bucky rather than Dr. Egan.)

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re giddy, like it’s the first day of class all over again, except it’s a different type of nervousness. It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything, but you’re seeing your advisor outside of campus. It’s a little nerve-wracking. Especially because he’s so interesting and attractive and… are you crushing on Dr. Egan? Absolutely, positively not! He’s your superior and advisor, and you will never cross that line. Even if you find him fascinating in numerous ways.

The small restaurant that Dr. Egan suggested is bustling with people when you arrive. You sit patiently in the booth as you wait for your superior to show. When he finally approaches, he apologizes profusely for being late.

“It’s okay, Dr. Egan. You’re a busy man.”

This launches the two of you into a conversation about your extracurricular activities and life outside of work and school. Dr. Egan wants to know more about your work at the museum. You tell him all about how it started and where you see it going. He listens intently the entire time, asking questions throughout the conversation. You eventually order your meals and continue discussing the museum until the topic strays.

“I have a lot of photos of us from where we were stationed,” Dr. Egan mentions around a sip of water, “I think I have some of your father, actually.”

You sit up at that, “Really?”

“Quite a few of me too. Would you want to see them?” Dr. Egan chuckles at your sudden interest.

“Of course I would,” you say with a grin, “When and where?”

“If you’re okay with it, I don’t live too far from here. I have a lot of stuff you can look at if you’d like.”

After lunch concludes, you and Dr. Egan head over to his quaint home near downtown- a mere walk from the restaurant. The living room has a large array of books and records on a bookcase the size of a wall, some paperwork is strewn on the couch and on the dining room table. Dr. Egan profusely apologizes for the mess.

“I can’t imagine how many assignments you have to grade,” you say, taking in the various novels and history books on the bookcase, “I don’t mind the mess.”

“All the stuff is in the extra room,” Dr. Egan says, motioning to the hallway with a smile.

He appreciates your love for literature and history and your patience with his lived-in home. Bucky would never ask if you had a partner as it isn’t professional or his business, but he’d be surprised if you’re single. If he were your age all over again- he would stop his train of thought there before it travels any further. You giddily follow him into his guest room, where there are shelves full of things, including photographs.

“Here’s one of just your father,” Dr. Egan says, holding the photo over his shoulder to you as he scuffles through other pictures.

You carefully take the photograph, look over it, and take in your father in his youth. He’s never shown you many photos of him from the war; usually, they’re of him with other soldiers or aren’t of the best quality. But this photo is up close, and your father is alone.

“You can have it if you want,” Dr. Egan says as you stand next to him, still eyeing the picture.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“I’m certain. I collected most of the photos and stuff the others didn’t want. If I can pass them down, I will.”

You smile at Dr. Egan, who returns it as he looks back down at the table, “This one is me.”

You grab a hold of the left side of the photograph, and Dr. Egan lets you take it from his grasp to look closer, “This Is you?”

“Sure is,” he says.

Dr. Egan was beyond handsome- still is, of course. His curls were darker, and his skin less freckled. He had a little more light in his eyes. You happen to glance up and see a photo of him where he appears much different. Dr. Egan has quite a bit of facial hair and looks shell-shocked. He quickly moved the photo, which looked like a POW card, under some others. You glance over at him, and he gives you an uneasy look before turning his attention to a photo of another young man.

“This is my good friend, Gale,” Dr. Egan clears his throat, “he was with your father and me a lot through training and overseas.”

Sensing a change in the older man’s demeanor, you change the subject, “We don’t have to go through your things if it brings back sore memories.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’d rather tell the stories over and over than forget.”

You hesitantly reach for the area where he shoved the POW card out of sight, sliding it out from under some other pictures.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know more about this,” you hold up the photo, giving Dr. Egan an earnest look.

“You’ll have to get a few drinks in me first,” he half-jokes.

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “That’s all it takes, Dr. Egan?”

The layered comment doesn’t go past him as he takes a step closer to you, your chests almost touching, “Just know my life can get a little dark.”

You stare up at him, your gaze careful, “I can handle it.”

The tension is palpable but Dr. Egan breaks it by taking a step back, “I hope you like whiskey ‘cause it’s all I’ve got.”

You follow him to the living room, where he pours two glasses of whiskey, handing one to you as you take a seat on the couch. Dr. Egan sits on the side of the couch that’s by the record player, where he puts on something to play quietly as you talk.

“I was shot down back in forty-four and landed in Germany,” Dr. Egan pulls out a cigar from his pocket before clipping it and lighting it, “You don’t mind, right?”

You shake your head and let him continue his story.

“Managed to hide for a day before I was found. It was a rough few days of being captured. I thought I was going to die for sure until I made a run for it when I had the chance.”

You watch Dr. Egan carefully, his eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the memories in his head. He puffs the cigar before sighing, “Then I got captured for real by the Nazis, and they interrogated me. Didn’t say a word.”

“I bet that was terrifying,” you frown.

“Yeah,” Dr. Egan nods, his face breaking out into a solemn smile, “Before I got shot down, Gale had been declared MIA. I was worried he had gotten into trouble, but Gale is Gale, he always got himself out of any trouble he got into. Anyway, when I got to the POW camp, I found him there. So we stuck together.”

“That’s good that you had someone you knew there,” you say.

“Knew a few men there, actually. Some didn’t make it out.”

You put a hand on Dr. Egan’s knee, the whiskey making you a little brave, “You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to, Professor.”

Dr. Egan glances down at your hand before moving his eyes back to yours, “Like I said, I’d rather remember than forget.”

Your hand doesn’t leave his knee as he continues his story, describing the work he had to do over the months he was at the camp. Dr. Egan finally gets to when he escapes, and they end up at another POW camp, where the Nazis fail.

“I ran around like a madman looking for a flag,” Dr. Egan chuckles, shaking his head, “Did finally find one. Scrambled up to the pole and put up that American flag, and for the first time since the war started, I felt safe.”

“Do you still feel that way? Safe?” you ask.

“I don’t think there’ll be another war anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Egan lets his cigar go out.

“No, I mean, do you feel safe in general? My father still has nightmares about it all. He refuses to get help,” you say sadly.

“There are times I’ll wake up sweating without remembering what I dreamt about, and there’s no doubt it’s about the war,” Dr. Egan polishes off his second glass of whiskey, “But I’m in a good place. I do what I love, and I get to teach brilliant minds like you.”

“That’s great. What more could you want?”

Dr. Egan snorts at that, waving his hand dismissively, “Nothing that I could discuss without embarrassment.”

“We tell each other just about everything, Dr. Egan,” you say, leaning in a tad closer, “You can trust me.”

Dr. Egan lets his eyes flutter to your lips for only a second before boring his eyes into yours, “But can you trust me?”

“I do. I do trust you,” you say softly, taking in the odd look on your superior’s face.

“I’m just alone whenever I’m not in class or on campus. And it gets to me sometimes,” Dr. Egan shrugs, “No big deal.”

“Many of us wish for more in the romance department, Dr. There’s no embarrassment there.”

Your palm burns through Bucky’s slacks, and he feels fidgety when making contact. It had been a while since anyone had laid a hand on him in any way. It didn’t help that you made him nervous. You’re quite the looker and intelligent beyond your means. You’re compassionate about everything and seem to notice Bucky more than everyone else. Maybe it’s because you knew there was something about him the day you met him that was different. And now that you know what it is, you don’t treat him any differently.

“It’s just that not everyone wants to be with someone with a past like mine or deal with the current consequences of that past, you know?”

Your face contorts into one of sadness, “Oh, that’s not true, Dr. Egan.”

“You can call me John, you know,” Dr. Egan says abruptly.

“There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t mind being with someone with a rough past, John. A lot of us have things we carry that we aren’t proud of,” you say.

“Would you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“A rough past.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t mind it.”

You suddenly notice how close the two of you have become in proximity, and you struggle to snap out of the haze filling the room. Bucky knows better, but he still lets his hand find your hip. His touch is blazing hot, and you nearly gasp at the sensation. He gently guides you onto his lap, where you perch yourself without much thought. Bucky’s other hand finds itself on your other hip, his fingers squeezing deftly into the fabric of your skirt. He stares up at you without a word, the room now quiet as the record had long since stopped playing.

“What else would you not mind?” Dr. Egan asks you, his gaze taking in your form.

You exhale shakily and let a laugh escape your lips, “Not much.”

Dr. Egan lets his right hand slide up your body until he reaches your neck, his thumb lightly caressing your pulse, “That doesn’t help me any, doll.”

You know it’s wrong, but it feels so right. It feels so perfect to be the center of Dr. Egan’s attention and to be so close to him physically. You’re both adults and are capable of making decisions, even if they have consequences. You decide to end Dr. Egan’s teasing and you move your hands from where they were on his shoulders to his cheeks. Pulling him to you, you meet halfway to press your lips to his. Something in that moment feels complete, like the stars are aligned and the world is standing still. Dr. Egan’s hand grasps the back of your neck as he kisses back, throwing all caution to the wind.

You feel yourself getting too warm, so you pull away from the embrace with a little reluctance. Dr. Egan follows your lips before opening his eyes.

“Why’d you stop?”

“It has been a while for you, hmm? Take a lady to dinner first, John,” you fix a piece of hair behind his ear, chuckling at his expression.

“Dinner it is, then.”

#john bucky egan #john egan #bucky egan #john “bucky” egan #john bucky egan x reader #john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #mota #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air au #callum turner #callum turner x reader #floralcyanide writes

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

Text

Can't Breath Whenever You're Gone

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Father Figure Jake x Single!Mom

✦Word Count: 5.2 k

✦Warnings: Ansty, Fluff, slight smut (Jake calls himself daddy once), pregnancy, deployment, sad Maty

✦A/n: I have tried to post this like 8 times, it better work. I'm sorry for the wait guys, I hope you like it! Lots of love - G

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The low ache in your back had become a constant; leaning down to pick up the second batch of laundry, the six-month belly just out of the way. Rising back up, one arm carrying the laundry, the other caressing your more than noticeable bump.

You feel a sharp kick, pressing your palm back into the spot, you can feel Little Miss move, pressing farther into your hand. A laugh falls from your lips, she wasn’t even here yet and she was stubborn just like her father.

The pregnancy came as a surprise, though you weren’t trying to avoid pregnancy, it still was a shock when you found out. The four pregnancy tests you’d taken, after being nauseous every morning for a week, proved that your family was about to grow by one.

The shock of it all, couldn’t stop the nerves from kicking in.

Your pregnancy with Mathew hadn’t been easy. Your nausea lasting the whole 40 weeks, making it hard for you to maintain a healthy weight. You ended up getting weekly IVs from the hospital and being up on two different nausea medications.

In the first trimester, this time nausea hit you hard and at all times of the day, the bathroom had become a second home, and Jake could barely handle it. Constantly at your side, holding your hair or rubbing your back. Mathew had been ecstatic when he found out, though the now six-and-a-half-year-old, had a hard time seeing you so sick.

Even having a conversation with your belly, telling the baby that they needed to be nice to you.

That was before you found out that you were having a girl, and thankfully the nausea had calmed after your fourteen-week mark, making your days actually enjoyable.

You’d been able to find out the sex of your baby just before Jake deployed when you were twenty weeks, and you’d both been thankful he could be with you in person to hear.

He’d been overjoyed when you the doctor told you. The smile never left his face on the drive home. Telling you, now that you had one of each, the next one could be a surprise.

You’d smacked him and told him, you wanted to get through this one before even thinking about another. Jake had only given you a teasing smile and kissed your hand, resting it in his lap for the drive home.

That was a month ago now, and all three of you were missing him terribly. Right after you’d found out you were pregnant; Jake had taken to talking to your stomach nightly. You’d told him that the peanut was too small, but he hadn’t cared. Holding nightly conversations with them, ranging from stories about flying, to what had happened during his day.

You’re sure that Little Miss had gotten used to her daddy’s voice, because now without his nightly talks, she has taken to becoming very active during the night. Mathew was having quite the time with Jake being gone as well. The first week he had cried every night and though his tears had slowed, the month had been wearing on the little guy.

Thankfully school kept his mind busy during the day, and Lacey had promised to call if he got upset during the day. Summer vacation was just around the corner for Maty and though he loved second grade, he was so excited about the year ahead. He was going full-time on base and Auntie Lacey, Bob’s wife, would be his teacher for third grade.

You were thankful for the relationship the two of you had developed over the last 2 years, she’d become one of your closest friends and was always there to help with Mathew.

When she found out that you were expecting and that the boys were getting deployed, she took up a permeant residence in your home. Taking over pick up and drop off completely, saying that your house was on her way to school anyway.

Your house was in fact a good bit out of her way, but you weren’t about to argue with the woman. Bob might have been quiet and shy in public, but his sweet, loving teacher of a wife, was anything but.

Lacey, like her third graders, was an endless ball of energy. She was the most positive person you’d ever met and extremely organized. But when she decided that something was going to happen, then it was happening. Her stubbornness rivaled that of Jakes. A fact that had you cackling, when the two of them bickered.

Placing the laundry away, you head back into the kitchen, looking for something to snack on before you start on dinner. Music streams out of the speaker on the counter, a playlist that you’d made after Jake threw you into the world that is 90’s country, on a trip to Texas. You’d fallen in love with the music, on a night out and always listened to it when Jake was gone.

You hum along to the beat of Brooks and Dunn, swaying your hips along to the music, hand resting on your bump. Little Miss takes to rolling around, clearly enjoying the music.

“You like that one sweetpea?” The song changes and she rolls again. “Your daddy’s gonna be pleased with your taste in music.”

You grab the strawberries out of the fridge, singing along to the music. Your mind wandering, sure that Jake and your little girl would have the exact relationship stated in the song.

“When she was three years old on her daddy's knee, he said you can be anything you want to be. She's a wild one, runnin' free.—”

The ringing of your phone cuts off your singing, Jake’s ringtone cutting through, and has you hurrying to pick it up. He rarely got to call you, the carrier was continuously going in and out of service, making it hard to talk.

You pick up the phone, lowering the volume of the music.

“Baby?”

“Hi, darlin’.” The sound of Jake's voice has you crying, your hormones working against you. The gasp that leaves your lips, alerts Jake of your crying.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Your hand comes up, brushing the tears from your eyes, doing your best to stop them.

“It’s just my hormones Jakey.” You pause, trying to settle the quiver in your voice. “We just miss you.”

A sad laugh falls from your lips, wedging the phone between your shoulder and ear, you move to sit down. Both of your hands rubbing your swollen bump, calming yourself and Little Miss. She’d noticed you crying, when you were slightly gasping for breath, no doubt disturbing her.

“I know sweets, I’ll be home soon.”

You knew that he couldn’t give you a return date, the both of you silently hoping that it would be before your due date. While it was months away, this last month had gone by fast, and though you hadn’t told Jake, you were worried.

“How is everything? How are my babies?” His voice sounds tired, and you wonder how long it’s been since he’d slept properly.

He’d told you before, that sleeping on the carrier calmed him, and being able to do what he loved made the uncomfortable bed worth it. Though something had changed, shortly after Mathew had started calling Jake daddy, deployments started causing Jake more stress than joy.

He'd told you that he missed the both of you. Missed seeing you and Maty every day, but you could tell that there was more behind it. You hadn’t wanted to push him, but you worried and with you pregnant, the worrying had increased ten-fold.

You relay what had been going on in the last couple of days, and Jake silently listens. Humming occasionally, just happy to hear your voice and feel closer to you.

“She’s been moving around a lot more this last week and I’ve blown up like a balloon.” You’d loved that you could carry your angels, but without Jake here to love on you, your self-esteem had plummeted.

“I look like a damn whale Jake.” The topic causes another onset of tears to converge in your waterline. “And I can’t stop crying.”

“Oh baby, no you are so fucking gorgeous.”

“You can’t even see me, Jacob!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, and before you can apologize, Jake is laughing at you.

“Don’t need to see you, to know how gorgeous you look.” Pure love in his voice and has your tears drying up quickly.

“How did I get so lucky with you Mr. Seresin?” His laugh breaks through the phone, loud enough that it echoes in your quiet living room.

“I’m just that good Mrs. Seresin.”

Though you hadn’t tied the knot yet, the title became one used often. The engagement ring resting on your hand catches the afternoon sunlight and a soft smile graces your lips. “I love you.” The hand creasing your belly receives a sudden push and you watch as Little Miss turns, her outline faint through your tank top.

“I love you too darlin’.” You can hear the smile in his voice and decide to put Jake on speaker. Bringing the phone to your belly, you feel her move towards the sound as Jake tells you about his day.

“Darling, I think that someone is feeling left out of the conversation. I’ve got you resting on the belly and Little Miss is going crazy for her daddy.”

You hear the broken laugh crack through the phone and then you hear a soft sniffle.

“Hi baby girl, daddy misses you and your bubba so much.”

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You hadn’t even thought about how telling Jake that the babies missed him, would make him feel. Though he was soft and sweet in front of you, in comparison to how he was with others, it was a rare sight to see Jake cry.

“No sweetheart, I just hate not being there. She’s never gonna be this little again, and Maty is going to third grade. I feel like I’m missing everything.” The shutter that echoes through the phone, has tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just never realized that it would hurt this much.”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your own tears not wanting Jake to feel even worse, and eventually, you both calm down.

Jake talks to your belly; you sit listening and enjoying the sound of his voice. If you close your eyes, it almost feels like he’s back home with you. Though your conversation is cut short, when you hear Bradley over the phone. Muffled voices ring over the phone, grunting and you swear you hear someone yell ouch, before Bradley’s voice yells out your name.

“Hi B, how are you?” You can’t help the laugh that breaks from you when you hear, Bradley telling Jake that he has to share. That he needed to check on his little sister and Jake could get over it. That thought is followed by the sound of a smack and Bradley whining over the phone.

“He’s mean with he’s not with you, Y/n. Control your husband.”

“He’s not my husband yet B.” You’re laughing at their antics, not having laughed this much since they left.

“No, he’s yours Y/n. No givebacks, his receipt clearly states non-returnable.”

The phone once again is dropped, and then you hear a door slammed. You were happy that they had each other, and knowing that they were together lessened your anxiety. They might fight like siblings, but they’d developed an unbreakable bond over the years.

It’s Jake's voice that comes across the phone once again, “I’ve gotta go, baby.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment longer, the lightheartedness of Bradley showing up suddenly gone.

“I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again sweetheart.”

Your heart slightly cracks, and the reality of your current situation sets in. Jake was in the middle of the ocean and not just for drills, but for an actual mission that could end horribly.

“I know.” You hate the way your voice cracks, hate that you are inevitably making Jake feel worse.

“Given Mathew a kiss for me Sweets.”

You hum quietly, too afraid to speak knowing that your voice would break. You’re both waiting, making the call last as long as possible, but Jake eventually breaks the peaceful silence.

“I love you, Sweets.”

“I love you too, Jacob.” The tears from your waterline fall, and you don’t bother to stop the sniffle that leaves you.

“You’ve gotta hang up baby, or we’ll never get off.”

Your heads nodding, even though Jake can’t see it, hating that he always made you hang up. It’d become a thing when you’d first became friends and now it was natural.

“You come home to us Jacob Grant Seresin.”

Your finger hits the end button before Jake has the chance to reply. Slowly bringing the phone down to sit in your lap, you can’t stop the tears as they stream down your face. It was never easy being away from Jake, but right now, at this moment you couldn’t remember a time when your heart hurt worse.

Sobs rack through your body, your hands faintly shaking as you lay down on the couch. Clutching the decorative pillow to your chest with one hand, your other rubs comforting circles onto your swollen belly.

…

You hadn’t realized you’d fell asleep until you hear the front door opening. Your eyes aching, the tears you’d shed emotionally draining you, and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for the night. Though the padding sound of small feet, has you rubbing your eyes trying to hide how much you’d been crying.

“Mommy!”

Mathew rushes towards you, a smile on his face as he goes straight to your belly. Lacey’s figure follows behind him, and you give her a warm smile.

“How was school?” You ask the both of them, though Maty is too busy talking quietly to your stomach. Rubbing in the place where his sister had just kicked, and places a soft kiss on the spot, before continuing to tell her about his day.

“It was good, happy that it’s the weekend though. Plus, Bobby called me at lunch, so thank was nice.” The smile that graces her face as she mentions Robert, has you smiling at the girl. The sight of her quietly spinning the wedding band on her finger, makes you feel not so lonely.

“Jake called today too.”

The mention of his name has Mathew’s attention instantly, no longer interested in telling Little Miss about his day.

“Daddy called?”

His voice is so hopeful, and you feel horrible that he wasn’t home, causing him to miss the chance to talk to Jake. They had only been able to talk once while Jake had been gone, and you could tell that it upset the both of them. Their schedule never seemed to match up, or the boat was just out of service. The one call had been a happy coincidence, having kept Mathew home from school after being up all night.

Which had been a problem in itself.

Mathew’s nightmares had slowed down massively since you’d gotten together with Jake, he’d filled a void that Mathew had, and now with him gone, it was like the void had reappeared.

You’d given up the idea of Mathew sleeping in his room, after the first week and brought him into bed with you. The both of you slept better having the other close, and the nightmares had slowed, though not gone away.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” A sad smile graces your face when you see how Mathew’s face drops. “Daddy said to tell you that he loves you so much though, and that he will be home soon.”

Mathew's faces drops, tucking himself into your belly and gives you a soft nod. Your hand combs through his hair, comforting him as much as possible. The tears that you feel wetting your shirt, have you pulling him up into your lap.

You see Lacey give you a sad smile, as she points to the door and tells you to call her later. Your mouth a thank you, while rocking Mathew back and forth. His tears eventually slow and turn into hiccupping sounds. He pulls away from your chest, a tear-stained face and you almost start crying again.

You give him a reassuring smile, hand brushing through his hair, and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Daddy will be home soon, I promise buddy.”

“He’s saving people, right momma?”

“Yeah baby.”

This time it’s you that’s pulling him into your chest, doing your best not to cry in front of him. Tucking your head down to rest on top of his head, rocking the both of you to stop the tears.

The three of you had went to bed early that night, watching Toy Story in bed, and having family cuddles. You wrapped in one of Jake’s shirts and boxers, while Mathew clung to the blue plane blanket from Jake. His steady breathing calms you and lulls you into your own deep sleep.

…

One Month Later

You had officially reached 7 months and Mathew was starting his first week of summer vacation. May had flown by and you couldn’t believe that summer had finally started. Though California was warm year-round, the rising heat had been hell. You couldn’t seem to get cool, and your swollen stomach was always adorned in a sun dress.

Jake was still deployed, though Penny had mentioned that there was a possibility that they were coming home soon. Apparently, Mav had slipped up while talking to her, and she couldn’t keep it from you. She’d sworn you to secretly, meaning you couldn’t tell Lacey or Mathew, though you wouldn’t want to tell Mathew just yet. You were careful what you mentioned about the deployment to Maty, he and Jake were able to talk a few times within the last month, but he was still sensitive to the topic of Jake coming home.

You had your 7-month checkup today and Lacey was going to be picking the pair of you up, to take you. Walking from your shared bedroom, you call out from Mathew, wanting to make sure that he was at least somewhat matching.

He’d taken to picking out his clothes, stating that he was a big boy now and in charge of taking care of the house. A thought Jake had put into his head during their last conversation. Now that he was a big boy, that meant he could pick out his own clothes.

Peaking into his bedroom, you see him pulling a navy shirt over his head, happily surprised that the shirt parried well with his khaki shorts.

“You ready bubba? Auntie Lacey will be here soon.”

The turn of his little body towards you, has a look of concern painting your face as you see the pout marring Mathew's own.

“I can’t find my glasses momma, the ones like daddy’s.” His tone was clearly distressed and missing the sunglasses that matched Jake's own pair.

“Did you look on the counter sweetheart, I saw them there last night.”

A small shake of the head is all he replies before his legs are carrying him to the kitchen. Following behind him, much slower, you hear an “aha!” ring out that causes you to laugh. Coming to rest behind him, you gently kiss his head, when a knock sounds from your door. You hear the door open, and Lacey’s voice sounds out.

“Hellooooo, anybody home.”

“In the kitchen Lace.” Her figure rounds the corner of the kitchen and Mathew is hugging her instantly.

“How is my favorite nephew?”

A giggle erupts from Mathew’s chest and Lacey gives him a tight squeeze. “I’m your only nephew Auntie.”

She gives him a glance, acting as though she’s offended. “That may be so Mr. Mathew, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be my favorite as well.”

Her hands drift to his waist, picking him up and then promptly tickling him. The both of them giggling, as you watch on with a fond smile. Lacey’s presence in your life, especially in the last two months, was a true gift and one that you could never truly repay. Though you knew that when she got pregnant, you would be at her side, just like she was for you.

Reaching for your purse, you check the time and see that its 12:20 and your appointment starts at 1 on the dot.

“Come on you two, we’ve got an appointment to get to.”

Lacey ushers you in front of her, still carrying Mathew out to her car, and buckling him into the booster seat that she’d bought for him.

“We get to go see sissy today, right momma.”

Looking back at Maty, the biggest smile rests on his face. You’d told him at the being of the week, you’d had an ultrasound and that he could come into the appointment and see his sister with you.

“Yes, sweetie.” You give him a smile, before buckling up, as Lacey pulls from your driveway.

The car ride is short and filled with music, enjoying the breeze of the day. The drive to the clinic doesn’t take long and before you know it, you’re making your way in, ten minutes before your appointment.

Going to the front desk you give them your name, while Mathew holds your hand silently observing. The buzzing of Lacey’s phone has her apologizing before she heads outside to answer the call. You think nothing of her excusing herself, thinking that she’s only left in consideration of the other patients.

Your name is called and though Lacey isn’t back inside yet, you and Mathew head back with the nurse. She takes your vitals and asks you to lay on the table, handing you a blanket to rest over your lap. You mention that Lacey had to step outside, and the nurse tells you that she will bring her back when she comes back into the office. She gives you and Mathew a smile before she leaves the room.

Doctor Jones is punctual as always and greets the both of you happily, asking you to raise your dress so that she can start. The ultrasound goes well, Doctor Jones answered each question that Mathew had and stated Little Miss is doing wonderful.

“She’s measuring just ahead of schedule, looking to be about 30 weeks, so 2 weeks ahead. We will keep an eye on it, but as of today, I think we can expect her around mid-August.” Her eyes leave yours to look back at Mathew, “Just before school starts buddy!”

His eyes light up in excitement, “Time for daddy to be home too!”

Doctor Jones looks back to you, both of your smiles faltering slightly.

“Yes, baby. Daddy’s got lots of time to get home.”

The doctor goes over a few things to watch out for, before sending you on your way. The sonogram image of Little Miss clutched in Mathew's hands excited to show Lacey. The nurse leads you back out into the main office, and Lacey is sitting waiting for the both of you. Her smile is massive and more than excited to see the image Mathew holds up in front of her face.

Your hand rests on your belly, and a few sharp kicks have you sucking in a breath, ready to get in the car to sit down for a bit.

“Are we ready to head out?” Lacey is rising to meet you, holding Maty’s hand to walk across the parking lot and the other resting on the small of your back. You give her a gracious smile, muttering a small yes.

The drive home is quick, your body is already tired from the day, and the small nap you had taken while driving is suddenly interrupted.

“Daddy!”

Your eyes shoot open, and there in your front yard are Jake and Robert waiting. Mathew is flying out of the car as soon as Lacey is parked, and you can’t stop the tears from falling as you look over at Lacey speechless.

“Did you know?”

“You think I would have left that appointment, if the phone call hadn’t been important.” The teasing smile she gives you, has you laughing through the tears. Giving her a hand a squeeze, a silent thank you, before opening the car door. The door stops before you can get it fully open, your eyes meeting a pair of black boots.

Following the uniform up, your eyes finally settle on Jake.

Your Jake, with Mathew resting on his hip. The onset of tears is never ending, as sobs uncontrollably fall from your lips.

Jake falls to his knees, setting Mathew on the ground and telling him to go see Uncle Bob, his hands reach out brushing the tears from your cheeks.

“Hi Sweets.”

Your figure moves for him, arms wrapping around his neck as you sob into his chest. He mutters sweet nothings into your hair, brushing his hand up and down your spine. The other one falls to rest on your belly.

“Your home? You’re really here?” Your voice sounds so small and Jake's heart sightly aches at your question.

“I’m home baby. Not leaving you again Sweets.”

You miss the promise in his voice, only hearing his confirmation that he was here, with you and your babies finally. Your tear-stained face pulls back from Jake's chest and your hands are pulling his face down to yours instantly.

Lips meeting, slotting perfectly together after 8 long weeks apart. The tears coating your cheeks are no longer yours alone, pulling back you see tears lining Jake’s eyes. The smile he gives you, has you tugging him back down to your lips. His lips separate from your own lips; to your cheeks and jawline, peppering your face with kisses. Then moves down to your swollen bump and places a gentle kiss upon it as well.

You look up and see Lacey’s tear-stained face, Robert cradling her in his arms. The both of them enjoying the moment, as a small body comes tumbling back into Jake. His face moves from your bump, and he grabs Mathew tickling him, laughter falling from all three of your lips.

“Daddy, we saw sissy today!”

The photo Mathew still hadn’t let go is shoved at Jake, a large smile breaking onto his face as he grasps the sonogram. His hand moves to brush through Maty’s hair, bringing the little boy back into his chest, as he stares at the picture. His eyes move from the image, to your bump, and back to the image.

Jake brushes a kiss against Mathew’s head, then goes to stand up. His hand reaching out for you.

“Coming on darlin’, let’s get you three inside.”

His arms wrap around your waist and for a moment you fear that this is all a dream, that soon you’ll wake up in Lacey’s car, utterly alone.

You feel the hand on your waist give you a squeeze, your eyes meeting Jake's. Your foreheads rest against each other before a quick kiss is exchanged and you’re heading into the house.

Robert and Lacey stayed for dinner that night, the five of you deciding to order in pizza instead of trying to cook. You and Lacey worked in tandem cleaning up the kitchen, as the guys took Mathew out back to play.

He’d been so patient during dinner, eating a slice of pizza, then begged Jake and Robert to play. The guys had informed you that Mav and Penny were having a BBQ tomorrow night, celebrating a successful mission and that everyone was required to come.

You called Penny just after dinner, asking what she needed you to bring tomorrow, though she adamantly said you weren’t supposed to bring anything. After going back and forth, your sister eventually caved and told you to let Mathew pick out a dessert from the store. You complied and let Jake know that the three of you would need to stop by the store tomorrow, before going over.

Jake had walked Bob and Lacey to the door, telling them thanks for coming over, as well as thanking Lacey profusely for helping you while he was gone. The woman just patted him on the back, with a shrug of her shoulders, and stated that’s what family does. Giving her a nod, and then a wave to them both, he headed back in to find you leaning over the kitchen counter.

Sneaking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to settle just under your bump. With a lift of his hands, a moan left your lips, and you were settling back into his body. Your head leaned back, resting on his shoulders as the tension in your lower back dissipated.

“So good.”

A hum leaves his lips in acknowledgment of you before his lips meet the side of your neck. He traces a line of hot open mouth kisses along your neck, landing on the spot between your collarbone and neck. Sucking softly, on a mission to mark you after months away.

The haze in your mind is overwhelming as you push back against Jake, the feeling of his hardened length pressing into your lower back. You’d missed him so much and now with his hands on you, you felt like you could combust.

“Jake, what about Mathew?” You didn’t want him to stop, but you’d rather get Maty to bed before he saw just how his sissy was made.

Jake places one final kiss on your neck, before gently lowering your bump again, the weight of it settling in your back.

“I’ll go put him to bed, missed our nighttime routine, and you go get ready for bed.” You give him a questioning glance, one eyebrow-raising.

“Bed?” Your tone is slightly whiny and causes Jake to laugh. Turning your body to face him, he gives you a final kiss that has your toes curling.

“Bed darlin’,” His hand creeping up the inside of your thigh, underneath the sun dress, fingers grazing your clothed cunt. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you Sweets.” His fingers tease you, slip under your panties to run along your slit. Your legs tremble, hand clinging to his wrist, afraid that he’s going to pull away.

Jake smirks at you, so wound-up for him and he’d just barely touched you. The swirl of his finger on your clit has your head dropping back. He loved that you were always so needy for him, but you’d become exceptionally horny while pregnant. The pressure of his fingers leaves your clit, and a whine falls from your chest. Though the sound abruptly turns into a moan, when he sinks the digits into your heat.

“Jakey, —”

“I know baby. Such a good girl, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

His tone is condescending as he watches you push down into his hand. Though before you get anywhere, his fingers are gone and your eyes snap open. Watching as Jake licks your slick from the two fingers, pulling you in for a kiss that has you moaning. The tangy taste coating your tongue and making your arousal even more evident between your thighs.

The tap on your ass, has you pulling away. Your eyes blown out and filled with pure need, as you look at Jake.

“You’re not gonna be sleeping tonight, Sweets. Daddy has lots of time to make up for.”

#better man universe #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman #gingy writes #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x y/n #hangman imagine #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin angst

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canirove · 14 days

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Friends, lovers... and an orange | Chapter 1

Summary: Since the day Adele was born, people had told her she was destined to fall in love with Mason. Their mothers, supermodels Elizabeth Turlingon and Toni Mount, had been best friends since they were teenagers, and according to everyone, it just meant to be. But after 25 years, nothing of the sort had happened. Nothing, until some photos and a big secret changed it all.

Author’s note: And after almost two years since I started writing this story... it is finally live! 😅 You are lucky my perfectionist self doesn't allow me to post anything that isn't finished, because you would have have been waiting for an ending for ages, and I hate that 🙈 This is a friends to lovers story inspired by all those conspiracy theories about a couple not being able to be together because their evil management team don't allow them to, but with a twist. I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

Elizabeth Turlington and Antonia "Toni" Mount had been two of the most famous models in the 90's. They both got to be on Vogue covers all over the world, walked for the best designers, and became the face of the most important brands in fashion. They were, what you call, supermodels.

Best friends since they met during a casting when they were just 16 years old, Elizabeth and Toni became inseparable, and their private lives kind of followed the same path. They both got engaged and married the same year, and their first kids were born just a few months apart. First Mason, in January, and then Adele in July.

The media had gone crazy about it, saying that they were going to fall in love and get married because they were destined to be together due to their mothers being best friends. But almost 25 years later, nothing like that had really happened.

Mason, Toni's son, had decided to follow his mother's steps and become a model. Unlike many others, he had chosen to start from the bottom, doing castings like everyone else. He had wanted to make a career due to his talent and not because of his last name (he had taken his mother’s instead of his father’s as an homage), and he had managed to do it. Mason was now considered one of the most successful male models, his face basically being everywhere. Brands were fighting to have him on their campaigns, all the designers wanted him on their shows, and your party was nothing if he wasn't attending. He was THE one.

Meanwhile, Adele had chosen a quiet life. Everyone had always told her that she had gotten the best of her parents, her mother's looks and her father's brain, but she had never been interested in modeling. She had focused on her studies and going to uni, and the only thing related to that world that she liked was photography, which also was the thing that she and Mason enjoyed doing together the most.

Growing up they weren't super close, they were just... friends. They had never been attached to the hip like people expected them to be. That, had actually been their little brothers' case. But their relationship would completely change every time there was a camera involved.

When Adele turned eleven, her dad gifted her her first proper camera, and Mason was as fascinated by it as she was. They spent the day learning how to use it, and after getting the hang of it, their days would consist in going outside and taking photos of each other or anything they saw. A tree, a rock, the sunset... It didn't matter. They would be gone for hours, though for them time flew by.

As they grew older and busy with their own lives, they started to see each other less often, but the couple of weeks in the summer they spent together with their families were a must, and both of them would bring their cameras and go out to explore.

"These photos are stunning, Adele" Toni said.

"Thank you" she smiled.

"What about mine?" Mason asked.

"Lovely too, darling. But she has something you don't have."

"Thank you, mum" he said, rolling his eyes. "Though I agree. Addie here is the talented one."

"Thank you" she replied, Mason putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her.

Addie. That had been his nickname for her since they were kids, and everyone else in their families had picked it too. Addie and Mase, something you could still see carved on a tree in her grandmother's garden. They were twelve when they did it, and she almost killed them when she saw it.

"You know, I've been thinking and... Why don't you take the photos for my 50th birthday party?" Toni said. "I was looking for someone, but why pay a stranger when I have you?"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Elizabeth said. "Now you won't have an excuse to not attend."

"You weren't coming?"

"I... I'm just busy with..." Adele mumbled.

"With nothing. You just finished your degree and still don't know what to do next" her mum said. "She'll be there."

"Wonderful!" Toni smiled.

"It'll be a small thing, you will be fine" Mason said. "And if you need help to run away or hide, you can always count on me" he winked.

"Thank you, Mase" Adele smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Flashforward to Toni's birthday party. The small thing, wasn't small. At all. Adele had already taken photos of over fifty people and more were arriving, and by the time she was done with the photocall, her memory card was full.

"How is it going?"

"Shit, Mase. You scared me" she laughed.

"Sorry" he smiled, that cute dimple of his showing.

"I'm lucky I brought several memory cards with me. A small thing, you said?"

"Yeah… You know my mum" Mason replied, scratching the back of his head. "Do you want to have a drink or something before going back to it?"

"Sure" Adele said. "Just let me put my camera somewhere safe."

Once they were done with that drink, it was time to go back to work, and she filled two more memory cards before Mason went looking for her again. But she just couldn't stop taking photos of all the guests and what they were wearing, of them dancing, talking, drinking, laughing... They all were captivating.

"Mum wants you with us for the cake."

"What? And who will be taking the photos?" Adele asked.

"I don't know" Mason shrugged. "But she wants you there with us and your parents."

"Ok" she sighed. She hated being in front of the camera unless it was Mason the one behind it. Somehow, he always knew how to make her feel comfortable. "By the way, who was that girl you were talking to earlier?" Adele had been drawn to her the moment they had crossed paths. She had the most beautiful black hair she had ever seen, and after taking a few snaps of her, she saw her talking with Mason. Or flirting, to be more precise.

"We were on a shoot together a couple of weeks ago. She's nice."

"And she fancies you."

"What? Nah. She's just a work colleague, nothing else."

"If you say so... But what about that other girl? The one you were seen with the other day, the singer."

"Addie, are you interrogating me about my love life?" Mason laughed.

"No, I was just... It doesn't matter."

"I'm going on dates but I'm not dating anyone. Got what you wanted?" he smirked.

"That's not why I asked. I…"

"Mason, Adele. C'mon!" her mum called after them. "It's almost cake time!"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

By the end of the night, Adele had five memory cards full of photos, her feet hurt like hell, and she was slightly tipsy.

"Do you think your mum will mind if I don't have the photos ready right away? I think it will take me days to go through all of them and edit them."

"Yeah, don't worry. Take your time" Mason said while helping her pack her camera. "And if you need an extra pair of hands and eyes, just call me. I'm free for the next few days."

"Thank you, Mase" she smiled.

"Do you want me to accompany you home?"

“There is no need. But if you could wait with me outside until my uber comes..."

"Of course. And we could share it if you don't mind. I'm going back to my place instead of my parents."

"Worried your mum may not allow you to sleep until lunch time?" Adele chuckled.

"Exactly" he smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Why is that car taking so long?"

"I wish I knew" Adele yawned.

"Tired?"

"Very" she said, resting her head on Mason's shoulder. "And a bit cold too."

"Come here" he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. It was something he had been doing since they were kids, and it felt natural, familiar… comforting.

"You smell really good tonight. What perfume are you wearing?"

"Can't tell you, it isn't out yet."

"A new campaign?"

"Yep. You'll get tired of seeing my face everywhere.”

"Of seeing your face everywhere again, you mean" Adele teased him. "But congratulations, Mase. A perfume contract is huge!"

"It is, yes. And I'm really proud of this one. I actually helped pick some of the ingredients."

"You did? That's amazing! Let me smell you again."

"Ok" Mason laughed, moving his head so she could do it better.

"Oranges. Of course you had to pick oranges."

"They are my fave, and yours too” he smiled. “And they remind me of that trip to Italy, the one where we ate the best pizza ever at the beach."

"Oh my God, that pizza was so good… Now you are making me hungry!”

"Maybe we could stop to eat some on our way home. If the uber ever..."

"There it is" Adele chuckled when the car stopped in front of them. "Should we stop at Giorgio's?"

"You know the way to my heart, Addie" Mason smiled while opening the car's door for her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Addie… Addie, wake up. Ad… Adele!"

"What" she mumbled, slowly opening her eyes.

"Something has happened, Addie. Look" her friend Jourdan said, literally putting her phone in her nose.

"I'm not that blind, you know" she complained while picking it. "What is this?"

"This was published this morning. Is... Is it true? Did you...?"

"Did I..." she said, her eyes finally adjusting to the light and being able to read what was on the screen. "Mason Mount and Adele Turlington caught kissing! The couple was seen outside Toni Mount's birthday party sharing confidences, laughing and getting cosy before leaving together in the same car." "What the fuck?"

"Addie, are you dating Mason? I thought you didn't like him like that" Jourdan said.

"What? No! I'm not dating him and I didn't kiss him!"

"Then why does it totally look like it?"

"It was the angle! I was just smelling his neck!"

"You what?" her friend laughed.

"It's a long story. But I didn't kiss him!"

"Well, the whole world thinks you did. And people are going nuts about it."

"Wonderful. That's just wonderful" Adele sighed.

Knowing how much people wanted them to be together, she and Mason had always been careful around each other to try to not start any rumours. But that night, they had let their guard down, the idea that there could be paparazzis still waiting outside never crossing their minds. And now, what they had always feared, could have started.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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dmercer91 · 1 month

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ebug's sister, dm91

found the first two stills from @heavenlyhischier (thank you for inspiring this post) the rest i keep in my camera roll for lols and i forget where they're from, probably twitter 😀

last season! (2022-23) part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve

(2023-24)! part one / part two

blakefriarr_

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 7,221 others

blakefriarr_: welcome back all, i hope you've missed me (i know you have, the hoping is just a formality)

this is definitely an episode of the thing. i both seem to have forgotten what i call it and how many times i've done it. uni brain fry, or something.

however, i remember that it's my civic duty to provide a rundown.

the first two photos are of my boy and my son being all smiley and giggly. they're the cutest

the third slide is me finding out that one day i'm going to be married to someone with the middle name jpg. i don't really know how to feel abt that one since i'm definitely more of a pdf file girlie.

it is also me finding out that i was wrong all along, and luke is the one who wears 86 and plays forward... i'm gonna have to delve into that a little more cause i've been calling them the wrong names and nobody even said anything ://

and in the last slide, we have.... that. despite the fact that i was indeed the one to take this incredible photo of captain eyebrows, i cannot say for certain what is actually happening. a sneeze? a kick? an accidental kick, mid sneeze? more to come.

view 688 comments..

holtz_10: son??

holtz_10: i did not agree to this

→ lhughes_06: just let it happen man there's no way out of it

dawson1417: hold that thought, actually, does this make me a dad????????

→ holtz_10: no.

→ blakefriarr_: alex be nice to your father

→ dawson1417: i'm not ready to be a dad

→ holtz_10: yeah man no shit you're like three months older than me?

→ blakefriarr_: will you be my son if i demote dawson

→ holtz_10: . fine

blakefriarr_: @/lhughes_06 you have a new brother !!

→ jackhughes: does that make me and quinn also your sons...?

→ blakefriarr_: you were put up for adoption and quinn filed for emancipation

→ _quinnhughes: i fend for myself cause i figured i was better off being cared for by an actual adult

→ blakefriarr_: is the adult in the room with us????

→ _quinnhughes: at least i know which one of your sons is actually luke??

→ blakefriarr_: omg did i accidentally send moose off instead of jachary ?!?!?!

dawson1417: jack i want you to know that i was only partially on board with giving you up

→ jackhughes: how much is partially?!?!?!?!?!

→ dawson1417: idk like 90%

→ dawson1417: 97 when you make charlie mad

→ jackhughes: feeling the love merc

nicohischier: can you call me literally anything that doesn't involve my eyebrows

→ blakefriarr_: captain slut was a good one

→ nicohischier: eyebrows it is

→ blakefriarr_: pleasure doing business with ya, captain slut

→ nicohischier: i give up

→ blakefriarr_: you lorb me

→ nicohischier: yeah yeah whatever. get away from me

tannercharlotte: no baby, his first name is jpg, he just goes by his middle name

→ blakefriarr_: 😟

→ dawson1417: pls don't divorce me before i can marry you

→ adamfantilli: what he said i can't miss being rookie of honour

→ blakefriarr_: is now a bad time to tell you jj is gonna be my dude of honour

→ jj.friar31: ..wait fr?

→ dawson1417: can i propose before you guys plan my wedding pls

→ tannercharlotte: speed it tf up then buddy

seamuscasey26: blako’s couch cushions

→ blakefriarr_: sheamo’s throw blankets ‼️

→ seamuscasey26: unreal combo

→ luca.fantilli: have i touched on how much i deeply loathe this duo

→ blakefriarr_: you’re salty cause fants’ ottomans was a flop

→ luca.fantilli: lan did say i should've gone with side tables :/

→ blakefriarr_: and you didn't listen?!?!? liked by landen.clark

ryangraves27: hi

→ blakefriarr_: hi gravy, you miss me?

→ ryangraves27: i wouldn't word it like that

jj.friar31: mom wants to know if you're coming for dinner tonight

→ blakefriarr_: what's she making

→ jj.friar31: lasagna

→ blakefriarr_: lasagna fucks tell her im omw

→ dawson1417: she made me let her drive but she would also like you to know that i'm coming and that she brought cookies

→ dougieham: bring some to picture day i want a cookie

load more comments..

#ebug’s sister series !#hockey imagine #nhl imagine #dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #new jersey devils

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604to647 · 5 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 4 (The First Date)

2.8K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din takes you out on a first date.

Warnings: First date fluff, lots of kissing and possibly too much description of 🫣, a little pet name usage (pretty bird, sweet girl, sweetheart), brief mention of parental illness and passing.

A/N: So... you may have noticed I increased the chapter count - I'm sorry! I really wanted to stretch out the longing these two have for each other and build up their neediness; so I split "The Courtship" into two parts and am using it to make the second part Din's POV (it's time for us to see what's going on in that pretty head of his!) But then the first part turned out to be 5K...and that's just two long so I split it into two as well. I'll post Ch. 5 shortly (it's written, just needs to be edited) - the point is to make them wait, not us 😂 Thank you as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

You emerge from the subway station to see Din waiting for you, ready to walk together to the taco place he picked. The way his face lights up when he sees you makes you glad you took the extra time in choosing what to wear tonight.

Din looks devastatingly handsome; freshly showered after what was probably a long afternoon of sparring, his hair now fluffy again and looking so touchable, you have trouble keeping your hands to yourself. His dress shirt is worn casually, untucked and with the top buttons unbuttoned, which somehow makes him look impossibly big; and when he offers you his hand, you happily take it, heart thumping at the way he slots his thick fingers through your much smaller ones. He smiles down at you, hoping to convey how excited he is to finally be taking you out, telling you how beautiful you look and asking after the rest of your day.

The two of you chat effortlessly as you walk to the restaurant, and once you’re seated, the conversation switches to the business of the food. You jokingly let Din know that food is very important to you and is weighted very heavily when determining the success of this date. Din looks at you with a serious expression, “You don’t have to pretend you’re joking.” Without skipping a beat, you match his solemn expression and deadpan, “Good.” Both of you crack at the same time, and you have to grab onto his muscular arm you’re both laughing so hard. You swear you feel an actual jolt of electricity in your fingers.

After you’ve ordered, you ask Din a question that’s been on your mind ever since you found out where he worked: What sort of gym business brought him downtown on the day you met? Din looks thoughtful for a moment, as if trying to decide how to start his answer, and when he speaks, you can tell that he’s about to share something heavier than the usual first date chatter. You learn that about 5 years ago, Din’s father fell ill, and he decided to leave his personal security job to take care of his dad and help run the gym. When his father passed, Din chose to stay and carry on his father’s legacy, taking over ownership and operation of the gym, which had been his pride and joy. When Din pauses, you add gently, “After you, of course.” Din smiles, somewhat sadly. Something strikes you, “That wall you showed me, with all the news articles about you – your dad put that up?”

That seems to brighten Din a bit, and nodding, he continues, “The gym was a big part of my childhood and younger years, where I trained and fought. Dad was a really involved parent, and he had a big hand in my training. I have a lot of great memories of him and I together in the gym. But it was more than just the boxing for him; he also opened the gym up to all my friends and gave us a place to go to stay out of trouble, giving everyone a safe place to go after school if they didn’t have one. He ended up opening it up to all the community kids; if you were under 17 you could come in any time and train, use the equipment, or just hang out, do homework, whatever. No membership fees, no questions asked. He was a really good guy, my dad.”

Din looks wistful and reminiscent.

“So stuff like that is a big part of why I decided to stay instead of going back to my old job. Dad loved how the gym was important to the community and really believed in the neighbourhood taking care of each other, and I wanted to keep it and all the good it does going in his memory. This way it’s still open to the neighbourhood kids to come and hang out and train, or just have somewhere to go and be safe; I don’t know if that would still be the case if someone else took over the gym and just cared about turning out winning fighters or something.”

“Awww, Din, you’re a good guy too. Your dad would be so proud.”

You’re so grateful to Din for sharing something so personal and being openly vulnerable, you forget your original question, but Din hasn’t, “So I retired from my old job, but the people I used to work with, we were… we are still really close. Like family. I grew up with most of those guys; most of them are the same friends that used to hang out at the gym when we were kids. They’ve always been there for me and Dad, even more after he got sick. Great guys. Stepped up when I needed to take time away from work to help Dad and understood when I told them I was leaving. Every one of them has had my back a million times over. So once in a while, they’ll ask me to come back in and help with something.”

You finally understand, “And the day we met, you were downtown on an assignment from your old work buddies.” Din nods. You think you’re coming to appreciate some things essential to Din’s character; in addition to being strong and protective, he’s also deeply loyal and compassionate. “That’s nice of you. It’s personal security work, you said? Your friends probably feel safer with you around. I know I would.”

Din grins, “Good. I’m glad you don’t find me scary.”

“Not in the least,” you give Din a fond look and he is gratified; Din is used to people being wary of him because of his appearance and size or even his reputation as a fighter among certain crowds, and he doesn’t think he could stand it if you ever felt in any way unsafe around him.

Carrying on the conversation, you share with Din that you’ve remained close to some childhood friends as well; some of your closest friends are actually from home. You had all moved to the city at different times, but eventually reconnected and are now inseparable. You’re grateful for your friends the same way Din seems to be for his.

“Are any of these friends the ones who are reading the same book as you? Do they know you’re seeing me tonight?” Din is curious if he’s been worth mentioning to your friends, now that he understands how much they mean to you.

You let Din know that yes, in fact, some of those friends are one and the same and that everyone in the group chat knows about your date.

“What do think you’re going to tell the group chat about tonight?”

“Well, so far, it’s a really good first date. But night’s still early… and the food hasn’t come yet,” you grin, “They’ll get the full debrief tomorrow. We have a standing brunch date every week.”

Din puts on a mock worried expression, “Got my work cut out for me, then.”

“Something tells me you’ll do just fine,” you place your hand on Din’s; he turns your hand over in his and brings it up to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss while looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

From there, the conversation continues to flow easily, with no lulls or awkward silences.

Over delicious food, Din learns that you’re a workaholic and always have been, but you love your job and your team, despite the somewhat long hours. He asks you to tell him a little bit about your work and he finds that you’re whip smart, with an analytical mind; poking a bit of fun at yourself, you confess that you’re an overthinker and that work is probably a way to use this power for good instead of evil. Long hours of working that brain overtime leaves you with not much free time, and your preference is to spend what little of it you have in a lowkey manner, with close friends and your dog. You shyly admit you might be too obsessed with your dog, Al (short for Alfredo, like the pasta sauce), and when Din asks to see and then proceeds to enthusiastically coo at the 812 pictures of Al you show him on your phone, you think you might actually be making heart eyes at this teddy bear of a man.

The first time you’re both quiet is when Din walks you to the front of your building; after an evening of non-stop talking and laughing, this intimate moment of silence feels well earned and full of promise. The evening has been more than lovely; you’ve learned so much about this handsome, kind man that you’ve fantasized about for the last week, and he has somehow surpassed anything you could have imagined. Now you’re aching for him to touch you in ways beyond the gentle and respectful way he has throughout the date; you’re ready to feel the strength you felt radiating off of him in the coffeeshop pressed against your body. Looking up at Din as you step in his space, you tip your face up to his while your hands find their place on his waist. Following your cue, Din leans down and gently cradles your face with his hands, thumbs on either side of your cheeks, fingers softly stroking your neck and hair for a moment before bringing his lips to yours.

As Din’s mouth fits softly on yours, you close your eyes and return his kiss like it’s all you’ve been wanting to do for the last few hours, which if you’re being honest, it has been. You map Din’s lips with your own, inhaling his breath and exhaling your own breaths of quiet contentment. Din meets each brush of your lips with an equal tenderness, pressing into them with his own over and over. Then, as if through some silent agreement, a sense of urgency overtakes the both of you and you each reach for the other at the same time to deepen the kiss. Your hands work their way up Din’s chest until they lace around the back of his neck and you use them to pull yourself up into him; Din’s arm’s have enveloped you and he presses his hands on the small of your back, firmly urging you even closer. On instinct, your mouth opens eagerly, and Din slips his tongue in, pushing against yours with hunger and purpose; you’re delicious and he can’t get enough of you. Greedily craving even more, you wrap your arms around his neck, needing to get impossibly close to Din; nothing else exists in this moment for you except Din and the way his mouth moves against yours. His facial hair is scratching your chin and the friction is starting to feel hot, but not unpleasant; you let out a low hum of pleasure that vibrates through to Din. He groans and gently bites down on your lower lip, pulling lightly as you finally break apart. When you open your eyes, you find that you’re both panting slightly, chests heaving in tandem as you try to catch your respective breaths.

“Holy shit, pretty bird. That was some first kiss.”

“Din…”, you whisper, your voice low, your desperate eyes meeting his.

You don’t even get to finish your thought before Din is on you again, kissing you with the same intensity and passion as the way the first kiss ended, but now with less urgency. He wants to savour you, taste you, and show you through his kisses how much you’re affecting him. During this second kiss, he doesn’t press you against him but instead lets his hands roam; his one hand trails up your neck and finds a home on the back of your head, threading through your hair and you lean into his hold. His other hand strokes your back, fingers kneading as it travels from your shoulder blades and down to your lower back, almost dipping to your ass, but only getting close enough to graze the top with his fingers. You might whine a little from the anticipation - oh how you want him to grab your ass. You know he’s being respectful, but this kiss and the one before it has you burning with desire for this man; you can feel a wetness starting to pool between your legs, and you want, need Din to just handle you. Your tongues chases his, trying to convey your neediness. More, more, more.

“Din…”, you try again, murmuring into his mouth when his nose gently bumps yours and his mouth gives yours a moment of reprieve.

“Mmmmhmm…?” Din presses his lips lightly on yours again, unable to be apart from them.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

Din’s mouth stills against yours before he pulls his face away slightly, “Oh. Uhhhhh…I…no.”

In an instant, you feel a tightness in your chest from misreading the situation, and shrink away from Din, out of the warmth of his arms, “Oh. Okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Fuck. Din blames his light headedness from kissing you for his harsh and misleading response; when he sees you trying hard to keep your face neutral, he’s desperate to correct and explain himself, “No, no, no, pretty girl. I do, I do want to come up. But, I also…don’t. I-”

Din is running his hands through his hair nervously, looking flustered in a way that astonishes you: this big force of a man, looking unsure and tripping over his own words. It’s endearing, and your tenderness towards him wins out and you put your hand up to his cheek; Din immediately leans into your touch.

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed, worried that he’s ruined things, but when he opens his eyes, he sees you looking at him with softness. When you see Din’s finally face relax, you chuckle, “That’s confusing.”

Din takes a deep breath, “I know. Pretty bird, I would love to go upstairs with you. I really do. And without sounding too presumptuous, I would love to do all the upstairs things with you. To you. I want to. I want you…but…”

You wait with bated breath for him to continue.

“…but I also…I want to… court you.”

Whatever you were bracing yourself for, it wasn’t this, “Court me?” You’re not sure you heard him right.

Now Din is running his hands through his hair again, looking sheepish and self-conscious, “Yeah… is that dumb? I…want to do things the proper way with you. Take you out, get to know you, treat you special…court you? I know if we go upstairs, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you, and things will go fast and… some of the nice things I want to do for you will get forgotten, maybe left behind…and… I want us to take our time. Is that dumb? Sorry.”

Din’s eyes can’t quite meet yours, so you press a soft kiss to his lips to which he gives you a small smile. “It’s not dumb at all, Din. It’s super sweet. Surprising, but sweet.”

“Why surprising? Did you think me a hussy?” Din pretends to look scandalized.

You giggle, “I mean, it’s pretty clear that I’m the one being a hussy here, old man.”

“Old ma-..?” Din doubles down on looking offended.

You kiss him again before he can retort, “Okay. Let’s take things slow.”

Din kisses you slow and calm, all the urgency from earlier gone, as he settles into the relief of knowing he hasn’t inadvertently pushed you away. Closing your eyes, you melt into Din’s embrace, letting him know with your actions that you’re not going anywhere.

“Do you want to meet the dog and go for a walk with us?” you mumble into Din’s shoulder, somewhat shy about inviting him to do something so familiar and domestic.

“Nothing I want more, pretty bird.”

“Nothing?” you arch your eyebrow, teasingly. Then practically skip into the building, giggling, as you hear Din chuckling behind you.

Al takes to walking with Din immediately. The nighttime walk is lazy and comfortable; hardly any words are exchanged, but Din’s arm around you, and the soft kisses he presses into your hair throughout, tells you everything you need to know about how Din feels the date went.

Before letting you go for the final time tonight, Din kisses you deep and slow again; this time letting his hands wander down to where you had needed him earlier, palming your ass with both his hands, groping you lightly and making you yearn for more of him yet again. Turning you towards your building door, he gives one side a light slap before bidding you goodnight with a wink, leaving you dazed and lightheaded as you head in with the dog.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #modern au #no y/n #modern!din djarin #din djarin fluff

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forthelostones · 8 months

Text

i. through the darkness - a fanfiction

꧁ since the apocalypse you found yourself living a stagnant but fulfilling life. you lived in the cabin you watched your parents build many years ago. you never ended up in a qz or sought out refuge anywhere else. living just outside jackson, on a lakefront, away from the world. you watched them build a community around you, something someone so isolated could dream of. but what would it cost? on a lone day, while you're hunting for dinner you hear a dry voice cry for help. it's a familiar voice, one you've only heard of ruffled behind static. she's helpless in your trap, unconscious in the dirt, leaking with blood, her auburn hair stuck to her fighting face.

content: mention of loss, mention of two-parent household, parent/ sibling death (implied), grief, blood, aged!ellie, fluff/angst.

an: waaaaa let's see how long this'll last. first ff since i was 13? woaaaa. also thanks guys for all the follows, that’s means sm to me!!! also any requests? let me know.

wc: 2.2k

Your stomach spoke to you while finishing your glass of herbal tea. It warmed you, but it wouldn’t satisfy you until dinner, which you were putting off. You knew you'd need to go hunt since the change of seasons left you with such little protein. But you so desperately enjoyed the weather and the coolness that allowed you to sit by the fire, read your favorite books, and go thoughtless. The crinkling of the wood created a hazy picture inside your mind of when you would sit by the fire with your mom and read her childhood books. You look around and sit alone with a copy of a graphic novel with pages that have become dusty with time.

You close up the book and swallow the last drops of tea as you slip on your house shoes to walk to the kitchen. The floorboards creak beneath you, echoing in your ears, reminding you how quiet this place has become. Your hands wrap around the ceramic sink as you lay the glass down and peer out to the lake. Your memory floods with flashes of Christmas, the house noisy with the clattering dishes from the same meal mom made every year. Meatloaf, fire-roasted chicken. mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, pumpkin pie, and iced lavender tea. A meal that filled your belly up so much that you could barely stand at the sink to wash dishes. But as you stood, you so desperately wanted to lay in your father's arms, on the couch, listening to the laughter of your mom and brother dancing to a record. But instead, you looked out the window, into the never-ending treeline, watching the snow fall heavily over the deck sloppily washing.

You sniffled as you fought the distance between your mind and the present. You weren’t in the business of crying, that ended a long time ago. But when you peered out that same window and watched the sun hallow into the lake slowly you felt as if you could.

Better go, you thought.

You strapped on your boots, tossed your rifle over your shoulder, and headed towards the door. All your gear was already set up from the day previously when you decided you would just eat vegetable soup again for dinner. You groan as you step into the frosty air, colder than you thought, but you smile, knowing Spring is knocking, waiting to come in. The world around you had become so quiet, so you constantly hummed a tune your dad taught you to keep your mind from wandering.

♪ Open the door, Richard…

Open the door and let me in…♪

You hear his voice chime in on the next line…

♪ Open the door, Richard

Richard, why don't you open that door?♪

The whistling breeze came to a brief halt, amplifying your voice and your feet crunching on the recently defrosted grass. As you walk to your post, opposite the lake, you hear coughing. For a moment you think it’s in your head, a new bit your memory made up while singing the vaudeville tune. The gurgle of trapped liquid triggered your senses causing you to leap to the ground.

“‘Elp—“

It wasn’t an infected, it was an actual human. Your body jerks a gasp out of your mouth causing you to muffle your excitement that faded quickly. You set up a conibear trap down that way to ward off the trespassers you thought you’d get. You stood to your feet and sprinted ferociously to the sight. The voice yelped again, softly, as they hear you crash towards them.

Lying in a shallow ditch was a girl with the thick of her calve stuck between your trap. How long has she been out here? Her face was dirtied with earth and her body twitched from the pain. She had dropped out of consciousness as you appeared. Luckily the trap was old and somewhat defective, so her blood flow wasn’t as intense as it could’ve been. You check the surrounding area cautiously to make sure no one is hidden along the shore or tree line. You went over to her, prying the trap away with any remaining strength you had, nicking yourself and freeing her leg. Her pierced veins dripped blood, so you unwrap your scarf and tie it around her flesh until you could get her into the cabin. You hoist her up over your shoulder and walk quickly from shore, up the grassy plain, and twisting the door handle open with a free hand.

Your heart raced at the human connection.

“I gotcha,” you say hoarsely.

You open the bathroom door and lie her in the bathtub, hand behind her frosted neck. She's practically frozen, you thought. You remove her backpack, shoes, and additional layers down to her warming garments and grab the med kit from your living room. Your hands quake as you attempt to remember what to do. Find the source, stop the source, stay clean baby, you hear your Mom say. You cut a strip up her pant leg to view the wound. She needed stitching, on both sides of her calve, bulbs of nervous sweat gathered on your forehead, and fell quickly into the tub. Your hands were damp with fresh blood, more than you’ve ever dealt with before even when you went hunting. You reached for the spout to the tub and rinsed your hands off before delving into the kit for a needle and thread, she was going to be okay.

You stood at her bedside, sponging her face with warm water you boiled on the stove and a clean washcloth. Your heart rate hasn’t dropped since you found her. Almost ten years since a human was breathing around you and you couldn’t believe it, you wished it didn’t go this way, but part of you was glad she did. Questions rummaged through your curious mind about how she found you, why she was here, what if she came to kill you, what if there’s a cure and they were alerting others? The thoughts didn’t stop. She was still unconscious, lying in your bed, tucked warmly with your flannel pajamas, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You had given her a nice cleaning, wiping away the days-old dirt built up on her skin, even picking it from under her nails. Slathering her dried lips with petroleum, combing her hair after washing it, and now cleaning off her cheeks. Her face pleased your eyes, and that short hair sparked fiery against the dullness of your bedroom, filled with trinkets of the past illuminated by a flickering candle. Your sponge slowly swiped over her tattoo, it looked a few years old, faded away with time, and stretched over her aching muscle.

Cool, you thought in the midst of then constant brain chatter.

You dragged the loveseat from the living room to where she peacefully slept. You had been monitoring her after drowning her in freshwater with crushed-up painkillers. You had been worried because her breathing began to stagger into choking snores. But you also thought it would be a good idea to stay by her side to explain why she was here. In the meantime, you warmed up leftover soup on the stove, making sure there was enough for her when she awakened. You pulled a blanket off your couch and dragged a cup of soup to your post. As you spooned in the warm broth with potatoes and carrots to your mouth you watched her chest rise and fall, even if her breathing became shallow, you watched to make sure. She began to sweat late in the night, so you placed a cool rag on her forehead and dulled the fire. Something about her made you want to know her.

The morning broke through the sheer curtains and the birds from last Spring arrived again. You looked over to your patient who cuddled a pillow to her chest, hair sticky, and sprawled all over her face. It actually makes you smile because for a moment, life feels familiar — she feels familiar. You have a stretch and head to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, oats with apple butter. You toss more fire starter into the pit to bring more warmth to the brisk morning. A loud groan, that flowers into a scream, comes from your bedroom and you are met with the fiery woman once again. Her eyes bulging out of her head as her arms flail with her head tossed back. She searches around your room for something, anything to protect herself, and for a moment you feel the threat of danger comes as she grips the glass of water you set out for her.

“Stop!” You holler, but your voice cracks, it’s been a while since it’s been used like this.

Her strong arms chuck the glass at your feet, which causes you to wince and jump onto the bed. You wrap your hand around her aching, freshly stitched calf. She spits out profanities, reaching for your face, but you just squeeze her throwing arm harder.

“I’m help, I help you, I’m helping you!” You stutter, trying to get the phrasing right.

But she doesn’t stop until tears form in the corner of her eyes.

Her body stops shaking the second she makes eye contact with you. In that moment you felt like Eve, full of sin, being discovered by God's wandering eye, naked, with her pupils melding into yours. She sighs as you lift your hand.

“It’s it’s me,” you suggest, repeatedly saying your name.

Her forest eyes settle on you as you move quickly off of her, freeing her wrist.

“Okay. Okay.” She replies.

Her voice is dry with rasp laced between her moans of agony.

“You got stuck in my trap, do you remember, I-I live here. This is my house.” You explain anxiously.

Which feels weird to say out loud, it’s just yours now.

She remains silent.

“Your leg got caught in a trap, do you remember?” You enunciated slowly.

“I can understand you.”

You twitch at her unpleasant reply.

“Can you? Look, I’m sorry you got stuck. I’ll get you more meds.”

“No, no,” she winches. “It’s fine I have to go, my people are probably worried, how many days has it been?”

You shrug your shoulders, which wasn’t sufficient enough for her, and she spits a nasty what at you. “I don’t know and what do you mean people? Is there someone coming here, are you…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence at the possibility of this girl attracting people to you.

“No, no one knows I'm here exactly. I wouldn't willingly walk into a trap.”

You keep your post near the door, away from the broken glass as you observe her attempt to sit up. She looks around the room and you feel a wave of embarrassment. Posters from your youth are plastered on the walls, crooked and dusty.

“You won’t be able to make it far with that leg.” You distract her.

She pulls the sheet away from her now bloody gauze. The sight makes you jump into action and elevate it. You thought your stitches would hold, but they didn’t. The glass crunched under you as you leaped to the loveseat where you moved the kit for the night. You frantically removed the swatch of gauze and unraveled it in your hands.

“Give it.” She demands.

But you’re not listening to her words, you unravel the fabric to see your stitches in place, just her movement made her bleed a little more.

“Give it,” she reached for your hands.

“Let me do this!” You scream, shutting her up.

She sits as quiet as she can, sucking her teeth, as you change her bandages. You look up to her and she looks away, avoiding contact with your eyes. You silently walk to wash your hands and grab the broom.

The room falls quiet other than the hay sticks scraping the wood.

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice breaks through the silence and you just freeze, squatting on the ground, over the glass, out of her view. Once the glass is in the metal dustpan you walk it to the kitchen to dispose of it.

“It’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.” You sigh, propping yourself back in your chair.

“You alone?”

“I am, have been for the last ten.”

“Oh shit.”

Her reaction pulled at a nerve you didn't think you had.

“Ten years,” she adds. “By yourself? What…”

You just nod, thinking of how your mom would’ve handled this situation. Brought breakfast to bed, made a natural creme for her wounds, and played soft music to awaken her. She wouldn’t have attacked Mom.

“I’ll get started on breakfast.”

You watched her devour a bowl of warm oats. The spoon entered her mouth swiftly, clattering against her front teeth and scraping as she pulled it away. You added milk into her oats to be more filling, lots of cinnamon, and apple butter to hide the stale taste. Her tongue even rode the ridges of the bowl where the thick, sweet glue dried and hardened. Her breathing was sporadic, almost like she would die if she didn’t devour the food immediately. You were still on your fifth spoon, almost halfway through. You deducted from her hurriedness that she was outside for at least three days. She sat patiently against the headboard and waited for you to finish. You had forgotten how to speak to someone. The only time you spoke these days was when you read to yourself, acting out the scenes and trying character voices. As you try to speak to her your voice caught in the back of your throat. But you could ask the one question humans asked each other upon first meeting.

“What’s your name… by the way? The by the way you added hurriedly as you remembered from the movies you watch that they say that.

“Ellie.” She replied.

“Ellie.” You repeat.

You smirked as you took another spoonful, hiding your mouth, you liked the way her name sat at the tip of your tongue. Instead of worrying, you just thought Ellie.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #lesbian #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou2 ellie #ellie angst #ellie fluff #x reader #fanfics #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #the last of us 2 #ellie x y/n #ellie x dina

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teecupangel · 10 months

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It's me, the ratatouille AU anon again djjshd

The only thing that would make this even better is that Desmond hears US, the player, also. The amount of times I called him babygirl, or pretty little angel, or my special little boy. He'd be both horrified and flattered.

Also calling Juno a gnarly ghost lookin-ass bitch. I'm sorry Desmond, I know this is serious business but I can't look at her for longer than 5 seconds.

Hello, Ratatouille AU nonny! For those unfamiliar with it, here’s the post where Desmond’s ancestors can hear Desmond as he ‘controls’ them.

“Let me get this straight…” Shaun rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to understand the Bleeding Episode currently plaguing Desmond this time around, “You hear voices that’s not your ancestors or anyone they might have known. And you know they’re talking to you because…”

“They call me babygirl.” Desmond said calmly.

Too calmly.

Like the calm of a man who had given up all his sanity and has reached a zen state of craziness.

Rebecca furiously looked over all the documents they have about the Bleeding Effect that Lucy had given them.

Shit.

How accurate were these anyway considering Lucy’s true allegiance?

These could all be fake or some of the important stuff could have been omitted like…

Desmond’s current situation.

“And… what do these voices tell you?” Shaun asked, curious enough to continue even though he could feel a migraine already coming.

“Uuuhh…” Desmond tilted his head slightly before saying, “Dad’s the worst father in these games and I should just beat the crap out of him… Juno’s a gnarly ghost and wants to enslave people after killing me… uuuhh…”

“Wait, wait, wait, what ‘games’?” Shaun asked.

“Oh.” Desmond blinked, looking like he actually just forgot to tell them that big bombshell, “We’re apparently game characters of this franchise called Assassin’s Creed and… uuuhh… I’m their bestest boi in the modern day setting.”

“Modern day setting…” Shaun repeated before asking, “Are you telling me that our entire existence is… fictional? We don’t exist? We’re just characters in this… video game franchise?”

“Oh crap.” Rebecca mumbled, realizing that Shaun was on the verge of an existential crisis.

Fuck.

Of course the conspiracy theorist would latch on to that idea almost immediately!

“Shaun-”

“Pretty much.” Desmond shrugged before adding, “If it makes you feel any better, you and Rebecca are pretty much the only regulars of the modern day setting.”

“Oh, so our very existence have already been taken care of then? We’re just little puppets-”

Rebecca sighed and ignored Shaun’s rant to ask Desmond, “So? Did these voices tell you anything at all on what’s going to happen after we save the world?”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” Desmond turned to look at Rebecca as he said, “They told me to let the world burn… just to see how it goes and…”

“... as a treat.”

(Let��s be honest, guys, if we were given the ability to talk to Desmond, we’ll be such capricious ‘gods’.)

#all i’m saying is we know how the world end up like if desmond saves it #how about we check how it’s like if it does end?#modern day assassin’s creed set in a dystopian future #desmond hears everyone currently playing assassin’s creed #the past players sounds more muted and barely audible to him #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot

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emry-stars-art · 11 months

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tell us about the royals au!!! (im on my knees. please.)

Ohhhhh my friend you have started me on a RANT I hope you’re ready!!!

I don’t know that I’ll ever actually write it so I’m not too worried about spoilers, and the wonderful people in my dms (which are still open btw) bouncing ideas with me are always going to come up with great ideas so I’m putting WIP in big red letters, things are subject to change! But for now, some ideas. Most of what I have will be under the cut, but if you want to know more about a specific part/have any questions please I’d love to chat :D will link to the art/posts I have so far!

(In this au I’ve been referring to Neil as Nathaniel at first and then Abram (hello names as a plot device), and everyone else right now is some version of their name)

Kevin and Nathaniel were raised at Evermore castle, Kevin to be in direct competition to Riko/see which of them might claim the throne (not thought out yet), and Nathaniel as the Moriyama’s attack dog, born and raised to take his father’s place as such. The two never met in person, but Nathaniel knows and recognizes Day because of course he does, and Day knows the name Wesninski means a very, very dangerous person. Essentially the top assassin on the continent.

But as we do, Day decides he can’t/won’t handle the treatment anymore, whatever the last straw may be, and runs off to Palmetto in a kind of desperate chase of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. He knew she loved that kingdom. Somehow he finds Wymack - the twin’s royal advisor - or Wymack finds him, and once Wymack realizes who this kid is and has reason to believe he’s not here on Evermore business, he puts Day’s incredible talent and training as a tactician/commander to work as his pupil.

Meanwhile Nathaniel is still at Evermore, mistreated and learning from his own failures and mistakes until he’s nearly as good as his father at the family business.

I don’t know how long Nathaniel plans it, but he either plays the part for long enough or his skill is so undeniable that when the Moriyamas have plans for the Palmetto Kingdom, they send him and one other accomplished fighter to kill the king. Nathaniel goes quietly and decides he’s not coming back if he can help it.

So instead of killing the young king, Nathaniel’s panic has him turn on his partner at the very last second, stopping them just before they can get to the king. He takes them somewhere far away and does what he does best, leaving no one to report back to the Moriyamas. From then on it’s a waiting game to see how long the family will wait before they send someone after him.

Day’s followed them, and Nathaniel turns around from the body and sees this man he hasn’t seen in years, alive and safe away from Evermore. It’s as elating as it is crushing - because Day heard his partner call him by name, and there is no way Day will ever let a Wesninski walk away alive. Not if he knows what’s good for all of them.

Except Day doesn’t kill him, even when Nathaniel asks him to. (Better Day than Riko, Nathaniel knew that even when they were all stuck at Evermore). Instead, he takes Nathaniel back to the twins/Wymack, gives him a little bread, and they sit until he can pry out an explanation. (See the comic of this first meeting here.)

Day and Nathaniel spend most of their time together because Day refuses to let Nathaniel out of his or Wymack’s sight until he proves not a threat to the royal family, which proves an issue because between Andrew’s rotation of personal guards (he never gets along with them well enough that they stay/aren’t fired) Day is Andrew’s guard, which sometimes means Nathaniel is stuck a lot closer than Day would like. But after a long, long time, Day and Wymack decide Nathaniel was serious about the whole “runaway” thing and isn’t playing spy (maybe there’s some dramatic event/Nathaniel protecting a twin that convinces them or maybe it’s just a lot of little things over time). Andrew, after a rough spat with the latest guard, is again in need of a new one. Finally Day just asks “is there ANYONE you could possibly pretend to get along with that can do the job” and Andrew knows Nathaniel is dangerous he just doesn’t know exactly how or why (but oh he is curious) so maybe he just straight up says. “Wesninski.” And Day has to go “…. Fine.”

So boom. They knew each other superficially before, but now Andrew and Nathaniel are spending most of their time together and miraculously - no arguments. No spats. Day thanks the gods there’s no physical altercations (that’s probably what got the last guard fired so quick). Nathaniel is just a mystery with shady ability to tell the truth and Andrew can’t help his curiosity. Good old fashioned andreil :D

From here the timeline becomes essentially nonexistent, I have no idea when these things happen in relation to each other but so far they’re all things I like and want to include!

1) there’s plenty of games and competitions at Palmetto, we love a good tussle, and Nathaniel usually does quite well - he’s not good at playing fair, but his underhanded methods are not technically illegal and usually he can use his preferred weapon - dagger rather than sword. He does well except for the one time an opponent accidentally says/does something that was constantly said or done to Nathaniel while “training” at Evermore, and he comes back to Andrew and the tent he watched from in the beginning of a panic attack. Andrew doesn’t know anything about Nathaniel’s past at this point, but he knows a panic attack when he sees one. In trying to talk him through it, Andrew realizes that yes Nathaniel is scared of being hurt, but he’s more afraid of hurting others. Nathaniel won’t let Andrew call him by name, he flinches every time Andrew says it. After, Andrew asks what he should call him instead, and Nathaniel finally asks to be called Abram.

2) Balls! Masquerades! Abram doesn’t have many outfits, he wears the regular issued uniform to every event. Andrew will not stand for this. Abram always wears clothes that cover him fully, which is fine, Andrew can work with that. He’s still seen Abram in a tight shirt or two. So he commissions one of the most knowledgeable people in the court (we’re thinking it might be Allison, she’s a noble but she’s great with textiles/embroidery/etc) and gets Abram a new outfit. It still covers him, its still protective material, but it looks better. (Find Abram in a corset here). Andrew handles it totally normal and rational in his head when he sees Abram actually wearing it of course.

3) Day probably assumes for a little while that Andrew and Abram have got a more or less normal guard/charge relationship, even thinking it’s slightly antagonistic considering this is Andrew we’re talking about. (This doesn’t fit the timeline, but here’s a mini comic of one of Day’s misunderstandings hehe)

4) king Aaron! He became king at 18/20/whatever age we decide this universe deems old enough because he is in fact the elder twin here. I imagine their parents have both been dead and gone for at least a few years at this point. Dan is Aaron’s guard and she and Abram hit it off great as coworkers and friends. More on the uncertainty of the twins backstory later. (Drawings of Aaron and his queen Katelyn here!)

5) the angst. The Moriyamas should have heard from the Wesninski boy months ago - something somewhere went wrong. So, naturally, they go to collect their property. If they get away with it, we can imagine how it goes. What I don’t know is if the twins, Day, and Wymack know for sure he was kidnapped or if they have a little nagging in the back of their head that wonders if he’s only run away from the castle or if he’s run back to Evermore with everything he’s learned.

When he’s recovered, Day doesn’t let Andrew too close too often for a while. If Abram forgets where is for even a second too long - waking up from a nightmare, having a flashback - it’s long enough for it to be fatal to whoever might get too close to Abram. It’s already almost proved fatal for Andrew, after Abram played normal so well that Andrew let it slip - he forgot Abram was taken back to Evermore for them to finish making him into a thoughtless weapon, and they’d nearly succeed. He wakes Abram too quickly and ends up extremely lucky Abram recognizes both his voice and the way Andrew didn’t call him ‘Nathaniel’ or ‘Wesninski’. There’s really a huge amount to possibly be covered about this point so I won’t go into detail here - but if you like hurt/comfort you know where to find me 👀

6) the biggest thing we haven’t figured out is Andrew. Either he was kidnapped at a young age and only recovered in his teens, or the elder King Minyard didn’t much care for his second son. Though I’ve always liked the idea of Mr. Minyard being a good man who died shortly before the twins’ birth and their mother just couldn’t handle the grief or knowing that the twins look like him. Anyway a lot of the twins’ issues after both of their parents are dead are the advisors or other people around them that try to take advantage of their youth and inexperience for their own gain, without realizing that both Aaron and Andrew have had to grow up much too fast, each for their own reasons. They can usually see right past the tricks. It’s why they both trust Wymack so much - he’s one of the few adults that are truly there to help them, and not make decisions for them.

Im sure there’s more I missed, but this is long enough as it is lol. People have asked about the Trojans/Jean in this au, and I’d love to include them! My brain’s instinctive response is that Jeremy is some sort of high end noble/royal of a faraway kingdom, and Jean (always last to leave the nest, im so sorry baby) somehow gets over there, but I don’t have an idea of his or anyone else’s roles yet. Renee could even still have a hand in him getting there if we really want.

So I’m still writing snippets and drawing over here lol but i promise I don’t bite if you want to talk :D

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persage · 1 year

Text

My Best Gift - S. HARRINGTON

I wanted to post it on Christmas - yes, it's a silly fluffy Christmas story- but it was a busy time and now here we are a little late but I still hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Steve is resigned to spend Christmas alone. He certainly doesn't imagine that Robin has planned a surprise for him, much less seeing someone he honestly believed he would never see again and that he misses more than he cares to admit.

Words Count: 3.5 k

Tags: none, just some Fluff I needed on Christmas time. It's silly but I promise it's cute

Steve Harrington is ready to spend a serene and peaceful Christmas, just him, his father's good whiskey and a good action movie. A calm evening, for the first time in a long time without family dramas, parents in quarrels, embarrassing silences or equally embarrassing reproaches. Also without Nancy and her family, but Steve prefers not to think about it. With them he spent the first happy Christmas with a family of his entire life, then he just lost them. Being alone on Christmas day is not sad and it is not pathetic and he has no intention of indulging in excessive thinking, he will enjoy the peace like a grown man.

Like a Harrington.

After wishing Dustin and Rob and everyone else happy holidays, reassuring an unspecified number of people that "No, I won't be alone", giving Robin and the kids his presents, now Steve clutches the remote in his hands and think back to Joyce Byers' unexpected invitation and the way in which for a moment, just one, he has risked calling her mom. He feels pathetic now.

Dinner time approaches, but he has no desire to start cooking, so he shrugs, concentrating on the colorful images that pass before him on TV. He takes a gulp of warm alcohol down his throat, which burns like pure fire and he is about to light a cigarette when the doorbell rings and for a moment he lets himself be taken by the stupid fantasy that it could be his parents, that they have come home to surprise him and he runs towards the door without even realizing it, like a child who hopes to be able to see Santa. His heart sinks into an abyss, a dark place that he didn't even know he owned, when opening the door he finds nothing but darkness and silence waiting for him. He wants to cry to be honest, like a stupid little boy.

But before he can slam the door as hard as he is able, Robin's face peeks out. He doesn't have the chance to say anything because a pair of arms tighten around his neck and he immediately catches a scent that he knows well and calms him down. "Dingus!" Robin exclaimes happily, pulling away.

"Rob? What are you doing here? I thought... "

"Did you really think we'd let you celebrate Christmas alone?"

He raises his eyebrows in defiance, spreading his arms to make room for a series of all too familiar heads and faces and this time Steve has to use all his strength not to be moved and start crying for real, because his real family is here and for the first time he is not alone."Merry Christmas Steve" Nancy says, making her way with Jonathan, a turkey in her hands. She places a kiss on Steve's cheek standing up on her toes and Jonathan squeezes his shoulder and after all that has happened this is enough for him to know that everything is okay, that they are friends, that they can be together without embarrassment or resentment.

"I'll put this in the kitchen" she shouts, smiling at him. Steve lets his gaze slide over Robin, her open jacket, her red sweater and a Christmas hat identical to Max's one, who wears it with a much less happy expression than Buckley. Envelopes of every shape and color protrude from her feet.

"What are you waiting? Will you let us in?" Dustin asks, in a fake annoyed tone, actually smiling to the point that Steve fears his cheeks might come off.

"And your families?" He asks shyly, still fearful that now they might leave again. They enter the house one by one, greeting him, some with a nod, some with a hug. "They'll understand" Max replies, trying not to show satisfaction in seeing Steve so excited.

"You don't get rid of us, man." Lucas continues, bypassing him and entering the house, where Nancy is already beginning to dictate orders. One by one Dustin, Robin, Max and Lucas, even Will, Mike (who would rather be anywhere else) and El file past him. He can't deny it, this is a surprise, more like a Christmas miracle... And for a moment he feels different, lighter, more carefree. Steve Harrington feels happy. He is not used to that feeling during Cristhmas. He looks down at the ground and shakes his head, unable, however, to stop smiling. When he thinks that parade of his people is over and that there are no more intruders to let into the house, he gently pushes the door with a wave of his arm, and turns towards the living room. Before he hears the door close, however, he senses someone coughing lightly, and a voice comes clear and distinct.

"You won't let me in?"

Steve's eyes widen, because he's sure he knows who this voice belongs to and up until now he's been sure he won't be hearing it again any time soon. His breath catches in his chest. In a second he turns back towards the entrance, where the toe of a black shoes block the door from closing.

"Y/n?" He mumbles before meeting your face again. He hurries to open the door all the way back and immediately freezes to the spot. In front of him, wrapped in a black coat, hair scattered around your face and eyes brighter than the stars exactly as he remembered them, you star at him with a faintly hinted smile on your face.

"Oh my god y/n" his voice shakes more than he wants to, so he fakes a a cough, while Robin looks at him knowingly and a sly smile. You star at him for a few more moments, just a fraction of a second, before dropping the envelope and purse on the floor and throwing yourself into his arms. After all it's been a while since you last saw him, before your parents forced you to leave Hawkins and move.

Hardest experience of your life.

You still remember the day of departure, passing in front of your friends' houses, you have flooded your clothes with tears and thought about everything you left behind and the things you never had the courage to say and do. And all these things are now here, in front of you and they are looking at you with the biggest eyes in the world.

Incredulous.

Because Steve Harrington has always been your biggest regret and your only desire.

"Steve." You sigh against his skin, so happy to finally be here that you almost shiver. When Robin Buckley has called you to ask you to join her in Hawkins, she really thought you couldn't do it, given the short time in which she had organized the surprise for Steve. "You'll be his Christmas present!" And you had thought of a joke and you had anxiety until you had Robin in front of you and she smiled and embraced you happily, as if your presence could really be a gift. Yet here you are, with the boy you thought you hated so much as a child, only to discover that you felt everything for him except hate, that never really felt anything but love.

"What... What are you doing here? You should... Be on the other side of the world. I haven't seen you in..." He strokes your hair lightly, then he grabs your face in his big hands and squeezes it tightly to check if you are real. "One Year and Three Months Stevie" And after saying that he squeezes it a little tighter, because he probably just realizes right now how much time has actually passed. You are one of the things Steve tries not to think about, filed away in a corner of his heart where your absence can't hurt him. You wrote to each other in the beginning, even quite often, but then it just became too difficult. He moves away a little, just enough to look you in the eye, and none of you try to hide the surprise and the smiles. Somewhere deep down there are regret and the fear too.

"You are... Changed." he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You've gotten slightly taller and your cheeks have taken on color and are fuller than the last time he saw you, when the upside-down chores were slowly draining you. You seem healthier, calmer and happier, safer than you will ever be here. With him.

"You too Harrington look...Grown up. A man"

He doesn't answer and you continue. "I guess being a hero makes you grow up fast" You burst into a nervous laugh and look down at the toes of your boots.

"Sorry, it's just that... I'm nervous" He shakes his head.

"Don't be y/n, this is still your home." You observe him, the words get caught on your tongue, stumble and never come out right.

I love you. I miss you. I wished I was here.

And instead all you can say is "I know things have happened...Bad. Difficult. I.." Steve closes his eyes, trying to erase the images of StarCourt, of the Russians, of Billy. Hopper. You have lost so many things but honestly he is happy about it. When he opens them you're watching him worried, his fingers reach your cheek again, gently brushing it

"Yes but I'm glad you weren't there. I prefer to know you're safe"

You smile, softly, placing your hand on his still firm on your skin. You're about to reply that you wish you were here just to keep him safe but Dustin's voice cuts you off.

"Lovebirds, would you do us the favor of coming here?" Stepping back, he coughs lightly as a blush spreads across his cheeks. "Come on, before someone destroys my house." He leans in towards you, reaching out to close the door behind you, and for a tiny instant, you were numb by the scent of him. The moment soon vanishes as he takes you by the hand and leads you to the room where all the voices come from.

"Steve, you haven't even decorated the tree!"

Nancy says shocked. When her eyes lock on your clasped hands, she just smiles at you sweetly.

"It's not like I exactly expected to spend Christmas like this." He tries to justify himself, earning a series of insults and "You're terrible!" from the rest of the company. "As if you mind," Dustin teases. "I'm the one who minds being here actually" Mike mutters slyly.

An hour later Steve is leaning over the dining table, a glass of white wine in his hands and watches as Lucas and Will attempt to scramble over each other to position the three topper. Robin and Jonathan burst into laugh after noticing they brought the same kind of decorations. You and El are trying in every way to whiten the tips of the tree to simulate snow. Right now, while looking at his friends, Steve again perceives this feeling: pure joy. It's has nothing to do with food, gifts or Christmas lights.

It is more a warmth, something that objects can't bring people. He feels it again, this damned wonderful overwhelming happiness, when, having puffed and abandoned the hard work you've been doing, you look up at him and smile at him from across the hall.

You are here.

You're here, for real and Steve already feels the pain of having to let you go again. But you're here and he can hold you, kiss your hair, talk to you. It's the best gift ever. He still remembers so distinctly the moment he met you, you were just a little thing, so small you looked like a doll running around the garden of his house and rolling with him among the flowers that his mother cared for more than her own son and Steve hated to death. He remembers your little hand hanging a drawing of the two of you on his bedroom wall. He rembers you throwing your head back and laughing by the sea when Tommy and Carol dragged you for a weekend away from the city routine and then you hiding your tears at Barbara Holland's funeral, trying to be strong and breaking down anyway, shattered in front of an empty coffin, devoured by guilt. There is no memory of his childhood or adolescence that does not involve you, or that he cannot be traced back to you. Even after your departure in every memory you are, a distant thought. Now that you're here everything seems to be back exactly as before. And even if he doesn't even know what heaven is, Steve Harrington feels very close to it. The dinner is not as perfect as Robin planned it, but no less exciting. As she studies her best friend sitting next to you, she still can't believe she haa managed to bring you home. You laugh with Nance and Jonathan. Dustin, Will and the boys are chatting across the table. Robin feels like a little girl waiting for her presents and always leaving a plate of cookies and a glass of milk by the fireplace.

In the imperfection of her life and the difficulties that her family has to face, she has managed to do something great for Steve and this is the most precious gift in the world. If everything they've been through has brought them here, Robin is ready to face it all again. There is nothing she could want more then her dingus being in peace. You wake up abruptly, still upside down from the jet leg, in the living room, lit only by the tree surrounded by colored lights.

You must have collapsed just a few hours ago, curled up on Steve's couch - specifically next to him, surrounded by his perfume - and now you see your friends curled up in their sleeping bags scattered around the room, each too tired to even notice they're asleep on the floor. Shifting the blanket someone must have wrapped you in after you fell asleep, you decide to use it to cover Max, lying on the other side of the sofa clutching one of the large pillows to her chest, her hand left dangling down to where Lucas promptly reached out to squeeze it . With all the delicacy of which you are capable, you place your feet on the floor and try to get around the various sleeping bags scattered along the room. Luckily, you manage to make it to the kitchen without waking anyone – not that they could have woken up anyway – but noticing a light on.

Before you can even think anything, your eyes met the figure of Steve who has his back at you, wrapped in a burgundy sweatshirt and wearing a pair of shorts. You've missed seeing him so calm, so relaxed. You just missed him to tell the truth, more than you expected.

"What are you doing up?" You ask in a low voice, leaning an arm against the counter and waiting for him to turn around.When he does, he runs a hand through his messy hair and smiles at you.

"I can't sleep" he explains to you, placing a cup on the counter. You catch the movement and narrow your eyes. "By chance is that...?"

"You caught me." He raises his hands in surrender.

"Hot chocolate. Oh, God... You shouldn't have done it without me it's pur thing Steve!" You scold him, silently approaching and trying to suppress a grin. Chocolate has always been their ritual during the endless study afternoons, spent doing everything but study.

"I am sorry... "

"Now, my dear Harrington, I shall be forced to take serious measures."

You threaten. Before he can do anything, you've gotten very close and managed to grab onto his hips. You begin to tickle him when he tries to move, but you're faster and let your hands slide under the sweatshirt, on the abdomen and Steve is shaken by a series of irrepressible laughter. "I give up, I give up!" He almost screams, grabbing your wrists and finally managing to stop you.

"What do you have to say in your defense?" You lift your chin to him, closer than you've ever been all evening, and your smile fades as you notice Steve's eyes roaming over your lips tracing them with his gaze. Just do it. Please . But don't speak, in fact your breath catches in your chest. Everything is exactly like in the good old days.

Immediately he releases your wrists.

"Steve" You mumble confused by whatever is going on, this is enough to bring him back from the trance he seems to have fallen into. Steve turns and leans towards the top right locker where he keeps his cups, with his back to you. "A cup of hot chocolate on the way." He mutters, you try to suppress the sigh you feel growing in the center of her chest. "I missed you, you know?" You confess with a half smile, going to sit on the opposite counter, continuing to observe his back. It's nothing new, you know what there is between you, affection, Devotion but sometimes it's feels like it could be so much more it actually hurts.

"I would have liked to keep in touch, to contact you more often..." He starts.

" I know it. It looked wrong. ridiculous. I get it, really." you interrupt him. He still won't look at you. "I'm glad you're okay." You continue."I'm glad you're okay too. Thank God you are safe. I would die if everything ever happens to you Steve." Only now he turns around, hitting you with the intensity of his gaze "I missed you too. You don't know how much, princess" As soon as you hear that nickname, that stupid nickname he gave you years and years ago, your heart skips a beat. And you blame the memories, you blame Christmas and the distance, for what you do afterwards. While Steve walks up to you carrying the hot cup, it's easy to take it out of his hand and place it behind you. It's easy to grab hold of his fingers that you know as your own and bring him close, just as it's easy to stare at him from below without letting go. The easiest thing, however, is to close your eyes. Close your eyes and wait, as you have done since you were twelve, when you finally understood that there is no person in the world more similar to you, more suited to you than stupid Steve Harrington. And that's why, in the end, you fell in love with him hard.

The long-awaited kiss reaches you, the only light that remains is the sensation of this moment, imperfect as it has always been between you two, but nothing less than exceptional. You sense the initial awkwardness, which, of course, has nothing to do with inexperience– Steve seems born to kiss ypu and make it seem like the simplest thing in the whole universe. It's an embarrassment that says "you've been my best friend since before I even remotely looked like a girl, but now you want me and I want you and here we are" and likewise you feel it fade, giving way to an ease you haven't felt with anyone else.

The romantic side of your mind suggests it's because he knows you better than any other guy.

Steve, who has leaned over your legs stretching his neck towards your face as if a natural thing, moves his left hand towards his side, and only now you suddenly realize you want him closer, you need him. Therefore you surround his waist with your legs and cling to the collar of his sweatshirt, devouring his mouth in a need that has been ignited since he held you in his arms in front of the door. Despite the desire, however, you are this is Steve you are kissing now and you must know what the hell it means to him before doing something you could regret. In the same moment in which Steve starts to move away slightly, you do it too and finally open your eyes.

"I wish I hadn't waited a year to be able to do it." He whispers softly, letting the fingers of his right hand get lost behind your neck, in your soft hair. And it's enough for you, for him and for everything you've never said.

For now, that's enough.

"You've always been slow Harrington"you scold him, trying with all your strength not to smile at him, "Give me a good reason to stay Steve" He leans down once more to kiss you.This time, you both smile.

This time you will never leave.

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