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#like i know how to fake it for coworker purposes
biohazard-inevitable · 4 months
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Trying to become friends with new people is just
“Okay, how not normal am I allowed to be before it scares them off”
Like you’re trying to feed a deer
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navree · 2 years
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someone did a thread on incredibly stupid worldbuilding stuff from the series that shall not be named and my own addition is that it is baffling that the wizarding world has things like false convictions or false protestations of innocence or false confessions when a) you can pull people's memories out of their heads and watch them like a movie b) there is a literal drink that makes someone tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help them god and c) there are ways you can literally learn to become a mind reader.
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maiko-san · 8 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )
<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>
Relationship: Fluff
Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader
Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.
A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.
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A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.
These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.
"I guess that's all of it"
"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"
You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.
You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.
"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"
" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"
You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.
The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.
"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"
It was the third time this week.
Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.
"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.
You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.
You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.
To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.
So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.
For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.
You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.
You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.
It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.
You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.
Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.
"How's your day at the play care today?"
"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"
"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"
"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"
"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"
"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"
"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"
"I—"
"Ha! Gotcha!"
You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.
Just don't get himself dirty all the time.
"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."
"And why is that?"
"They said you stole their work...."
"....."
Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.
It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.
You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.
You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.
"It is our fault wasn't it?"
"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"
You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.
You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.
You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.
You did the same thing with his ears and chests.
Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.
You treat them like a real person.
Like they used to be.
Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....
You care for him, so he will do the same to you.
You are his angel, after all....
"Alright, everything's done!"
You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.
"Is this for me, angel?"
"Yeah, it suits you well"
Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.
I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!
"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"
"You're welcome, bud"
A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!
I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.
Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️
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earlysunshines · 2 months
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just pretend(?)
danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff
synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.
warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…
a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)
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"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”
"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.
"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”
"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.
she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”
“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“
“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”
you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.
your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”
“what?”
“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“
“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”
“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”
“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”
“haerin?”
“she wouldn’t.”
“yunjin?”
“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”
“sakura?”
“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”
“the hell?”
“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”
“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”
danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.
she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all. 
to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread. 
yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.
the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university. 
it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–
“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”
hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”
“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further. 
“i don’t, just fake date her.”
“she wouldn’t agree.”
“sure she would, let me call her!”
you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone. 
before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.
“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”
“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”
“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni. 
“y/n was wondering if you could date her.” 
eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.” 
“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”
hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics. 
“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”
“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”
“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”
“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”
“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved. 
“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”
you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.
“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”
“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”
“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.” 
“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.
hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.
it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.
you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.
“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.” 
you almost choke. “what?”
“did you forget we’re dating now?”
“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.
“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”
laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”
you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.
(yet.)
before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.
you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.
danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.
“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”
“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.
you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”
“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”
she has too much charm. 
“dani, you’re such a dork.”
“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”
pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place. 
it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.
danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.
a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.
she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.
she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”
she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”
danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.
you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.
as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”
“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”
you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.
“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”
“you still in love with me or something?”
she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”
“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”
sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.
danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.
both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle. 
she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.
“sweetheart! i missed you.”
“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”
“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”
it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”
sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”
“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”
“aw, you’d do that?”
“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”
she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys. 
your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.
there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.
you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.
danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”
“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little. 
“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”
“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.
“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”
“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”
“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.
“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”
“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”
“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”
danielle nods in understanding.
“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.
you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is. 
she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.
long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.
“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”
“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”
you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”
pretending. 
the word makes both you and danielle tense up.
you clock in again, greeting sarah. 
she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.
he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.
“hey,”
“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”
“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”
you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.
sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”
“she’s working.”
“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”
“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw. 
“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”
fuck. 
you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”
“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”
“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.
once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.
you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.
“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”
“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.” 
“sarah?”
“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”
“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”
“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”
you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”
“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”
a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”
“i hope i die.”
“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”
“can we meet at my place?”
“anything is fine, that’s alright.”
“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”
“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.” 
“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”
“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.
“this is so dumb.” 
you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.
hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural. 
the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too. 
“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”
you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses. 
danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.
“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”
“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”
“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.
“i hate you.”
“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?” 
minji groans, making you laugh. 
danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.
it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.
the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming. 
her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.
you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle. 
tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”
“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake. 
“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”
“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”
“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”
“oh, sorry to wake you.”
“it’s fine, seriously.” 
“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”
“oh, me?”
you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”
“yeah, you are.”
“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”
“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.
it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.
danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.
“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”
“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?” 
“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”
“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.
you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything. 
you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.
it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.
despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.
(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)
danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.
it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air. 
you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.
“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.
“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”
“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”
“you have small hands.”
“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”
“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”
“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”
“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand. 
she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”
“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”
“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”
“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”
“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”
a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”
“am i?”
“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”
before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.
the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.
danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.
you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”
“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“wait, you should have it.”
“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.
you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.
“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”
“ahhh~”
you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold. 
the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can. 
a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you. 
“sorry, there was… yeah.”
“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”
“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”
the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.
you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.
“you okay?”
“just happy.”
“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”
“being with you makes me really happy.”
“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”
“please.”
“it’s getting late.”
“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.
just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.
minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.
the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.
there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.
sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy. 
she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.
what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter. 
she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.
you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”
“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.
what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek. 
the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.
“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”
“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”
“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”
“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…” 
the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt. 
it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.
nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’
neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep. 
you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too. 
you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.
you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.
jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).
walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.
the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.
(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.
the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)
you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.
“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”
she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.
one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.
“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”
you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.
for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.
jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking. 
your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.
“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.” 
“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.
your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight. 
as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.
the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures. 
you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.
clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling. 
you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.
you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin. 
the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.
your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.
“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.
you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.
“hello?”
“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”
“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”
“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”
“y/n, oh my gosh.”
“hanni, stay on the line, please.”
“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”
“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”
“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”
“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”
silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”
“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”
“y/n…” 
danielle sits in her car, heart sinking. 
you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her. 
“please come. please.”
danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes. 
danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly. 
she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.
“jimin,”
she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”
“where’s y/n?”
“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”
“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.
she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.
danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.
"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.
you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture. 
“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.” 
you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.
she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”
“you’re not… hanni.”
danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”
“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”
"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.
you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.
a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”
“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing. 
your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.
“pretty.” you sigh dreamily. 
“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”
“okay.”
“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”
“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.” 
danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.
you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much. 
there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”
danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.
why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?
you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.
you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.
she doesn’t know what to do.
danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection. 
but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all. 
you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days. 
it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.
“you didn’t even text me–”
“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”
hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.
“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”
“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”
“dude what.” 
you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind. 
hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”
“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”
“she did?”
“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”
“dude, what are you talking about.”
you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many –  you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.
you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.
“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”
“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”
“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”
“y/n what.”
“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”
“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.
you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”
“oh, well that’s not too bad.”
“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”
your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”
“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”
“oh.”
“yeah, oh.”
“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”
you sigh. “yes.”
“holy shit.”
“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”
“you need to talk to her.”
“she doesn’t want to see me.”
“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”
“okay it’s not the time for that–”
“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”
“i wish.”
“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.” 
“it’s not that–” 
your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.
as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.
“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”
“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”
“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”
you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.
“i’m fucking terrified.”
“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.
the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.
you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.
wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.
a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.
then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.
you swallow hard, body tensing. 
���thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”
“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”
“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”
your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”
“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”
she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.
danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”
“danielle, stop.”
“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”
“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”
she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”
“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”
“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.
the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.
“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.” 
“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”
“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”
“what?”
“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”
her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.
“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”
you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”
“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief. 
you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”
if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.
in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.
“it’s okay.”
“are you busy after this?”
danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”
“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”
“perfect.”
you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.
when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”
danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.
“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”
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jarofstyles · 8 months
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In The Woods- Scarred
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Hello my loves! I know it took a while but here is the second part to scarred. I'm unsure if I'm going to do a lot more with them besides some blurbs but that could change :)
Read the first part Here
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WC- 7k
warnings- mention of anxiety, scarring, bullying, halloween, exhibitionism, mask/makeup kink, unprotected sex, degradation, slight fear play(??)
Enjoy xoxoxo
---------
Harry was shy. 
Y/n hadn't expected that stunning revelation in the time that she knew him, but without the layer of makeup? The man was cute. Fucking adorable, even, because he was a blushy mess.
It was apparent how Harry did have some issues with doubting himself and that just wasn’t going to cut it with Y/N. She knew that his anxiety was valid, that he had gone through things that made him think the way he did, but it only gave her a challenge she was more than up for. Flirting with him, making it apparent how absolutely gorgeous he was to her, and making him blush. 
His trust had been one of the most precious things she had ever been handed and she wasn’t going to do anything to put that into jeopardy. When she arrived back at work when people saw them arrive together, she had been bombarded with questions about him. What he looked like, how he was outside of work, but they got no answer other than ‘handsome’. When asked if she had any images, she blankly stared at the group. Of course she didn’t take any photos, because why would she betray his trust like that? 
‘He doesn’t want to share and he’s a private person. We’re dating and I got to see a part of him he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing here, and I’m not going to betray his trust for some gossip.’ 
Y/N’s mom-like scolding had them backing off, but she could see Harry lingering off to the side with a smirk on his face as he adjusted his costume. Droplets of fake blood crackled a little when he met her eyes in the mirror. He was pleased with her.
She didn’t even know how much it meant to him. To have a safe person. She sung his praises without giving anything away and to be honest? He had been shocked at how well she’d handled constant prodding from overly curious and downright nosy coworkers. They’d all quiet down or walk away when he came over but Y/N would remain there, standing pretty and smiling at him as he approached. 
“Got eaten alive?” He murmured, helping fluff her purposely messy hair. “Poor thing. Nosy fuckers they are, hm?” The tone of voice was low, just for the two of them to hear. She could see his dimple under the makeup, making her want to poke at it but she refrained. It wasn’t the time. 
“Yeah. S’a shame. Eating me is your job.” A coy glance made him stiffen for a second before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his girl’s antics. She’s been shameless this whole time. Their established relationship had gone on 2 weeks now but they’d kept it under wraps, all the while she would follow him home or vice versa. Their sex wasn’t stuck to one place anymore, and Harry took full advantage of the positions he could get her in a proper bed or bent over a kitchen counter. Adventurous sex had been a new one for him, and he was taking full advantage. 
“It is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Shame I couldn’t do it before we came. M’starved.” Painted fingers pulled her in by the corseted waist, letting her lean back to peer at him. “I expect a three course meal after we leave. Maybe four, but I know we’ve been working on getting you there. Maybe tonight will be the night, hm?” 
Another new revelation in their blooming relationship was how utterly obsessed her new boyfriend was with giving her pleasure. Orgasms galore, so much so that she felt a near constant state of sensitivity- but she couldn’t complain. Not when she reaped the benefits of his generous nature. She found his mouth or hands in her more often than not, and if there would be no repercussions there was no doubt in her mind that Harry would crawl on the floor and under her skirt to give her an orgasm before they went out to the attraction- but alas, consequences would be fierce. 
“Let’s keep it calm, big boy.” Her hand smoothed over his chest, patting the warmth of it. “Three is more than enough, but it depends on how good you scare the people tonight.” 
Harry with his chainsaw, it was some sort of foreplay. How he got into a mindset and plotted scares, she could watch form across the way as he revved up the machine and made people sprint. He’d choose the victim of a scare and follow them around for a bit, making them uneasy, all while cornering them closer to Y/N’s section- letting them in for a double haunt that would leave people screeching. 
Realistically, Y/N it was the adrenaline and endorphins, but seeing her boyfriend- yes, she still did a little squeak in her head every time she thought the word- be so good at the job, seeing mid shift when his hair fell slightly in his face and that one curl went over his forehead, she was ready to jump him by the end of the night. He’d find his way over to her a few times a night, brush her dress with his fingers and give her a wink whenever she caught his view, wordlessly promising whatever the hell he wanted afterwards. It was hard to keep her cool when there was something so sexy about seeing him in this sort of element. Confident and hot, she loved watching him know people were both attracted and in fear of him. 
“You know I love a challenge.” He purred, already finding his groove. “Maybe it will be my most terrifying night yet. If you’re the prize at the end of the line, I’m going to give it my all.” Of course he was turning on the charm now, making her flush under her own makeup. He was suave when he did it here, but she knew when they left and the makeup was off he would be a little less smooth with it. A bit more clumsy, and she adored both sides of him. 
“I’ll hold it to you, sir.” She replied, leaning up to leave a little peck on his lips before brushing past him. It was time to see just how bad he wanted it.
—---------
Harry had a point to prove. That much was obvious, watching the glint in his eyes as he stalked past her after his current scare. She was doing her own haunt, which was a lot more different than Harry’s stalk and follow approach. Y/N was more of a jump scare sort of thing, waiting for them to get closer and act just a bit off before deciding to scream and lunge at them. 
His chainsaw hung by his side as he brushed past her, pinning her with his glare. It was full of promise. He was doing incredible tonight, a bit ruthless with his scares and getting people screaming and running. Y/N stayed in her assigned area whereas he had more room to move around, so he was moving them towards her. The guests were shaking, some in particular crying, and she knew that she was most definitely going to be breaking personal scare records tonight. 
It was incredible to watch. With the challenge being given of making it a scarier night and the reward being access to her, he took it seriously. Showing off for her, sending more guests her way for a second half of his scare. He’d loved to watch her get into it, screeching in their faces and going back to acting like nothing happened right afterwards. Y/N was his little devil, his vampire queen, and little did the people know that the bruises underneath the fake blood were all too real, from him. The adrenaline from the scares, the promise of what was to come and the heated glances between the two had him half hard his entire shift, eager to get back to his place to take her- if he could last that long. 
Harry did his best to behave as they went backstage. Keeping his hands to himself, he changed privately and came back out with his leather jacket hanging on his shoulder, a predatory gaze on her while she socialized. He knew she was stalling, teasing as she slowly wiped away the show makeup and fake blood on her skin and neck. Taking her grand old time to hang up her costume and gossip about a group of particularly obnoxious guests they’d had tonight, a school group that had been the worst kind. Teenage boys who tried to ‘scare’ the scare actors. Harry had been the one to scare the shit out of them, following them around and popping out randomly to make them scream. It’d been a good night.
She just needed to stop stalling. His cock was thickening as he watched her cotton pad wipe away the pale makeup, exposing her natural skin and the marks he left remaining on her throat. Her tank top clung to her and the shorts she had worn in were a temptation even before now, his neediness showing when he’d whined when she walked out of his bathroom with them on. It was torture. Y/N had the upper hand here, but she would lose it as soon as they were alone.
As people filtered out and Y/N threw her bag over her shoulder, Harry emerged from the shadowy hall he was hiding in to wrap his arm around her shoulder. His girl jumped before scoffing, nudging him as she let him know how she felt. “You know, I should probably be concerned about how you like to watch me like a stalker after our shifts, but it arouses me instead.” She sighed, admitting the unfortunate truth. She liked feeling his eyes on her, knowing he was thinking about what was to come. 
His makeup was still on, his green eyes exposed instead of the contacts he wore during his scares. It was also probably concerning how much she enjoyed it, but she figured it was akin to having a bit of a mask kink. Roleplay in a sense. Prior to getting to see his natural face, she had only seen the makeup get slightly smudged from the sweat and her mouth, but it was applied there with a firmness most women must be envious of. He had to have gotten the best shit there was. Sometimes she watched from the counter as he applied it with practiced ease, watching the skeletal makeup engulf and change his face. It was like watching him get into character. When the makeup was off, he was a bit more of a shyer boy with her. A little needy and clingy, soft spoken and tender touches. Sweet like honey, gooey and easy to break. With the makeup on? His disguise gave him a filthy amount of confidence, one that had him falling into that dominant, cocky nature she also adored. 
“Eh. You like to be chased and thrown around a bit.” He shrugged, his hand swinging with hers as he made his way to his car. “Don’t think there's anything necessarily wrong with enjoying how your boyfriend admires and follows you around. Especially when you know what lies ahead for you.” There it was. The cockiness that made him smirk, the moonlight hitting him just right so she could see the imprint of his dimple.  
“Mmm.” She hummed, following him slightly from behind. The parking lot was basically empty, but it wasn’t empty enough for his plans. Plus, he didn’t know what sort of security lay in hiding- so he was thinking about his options. He wanted to play tonight. Play a bit more than usual. They only had another week left of this job before they settled into normal life again, the season ending relatively soon. 
Harry helped her into the car, taking her duffle and his own bag to throw in the backseat before fishing his keys from his pocket and sliding into the driver's seat. Turning it into the ignition, he kept his eyes on the road as he began to drive off in the opposite direction of his house. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
—----
Y/N hadn’t known what the surprise was, but she sure as fuck got nervous when the car turned onto a wooded path. She trusted Harry, but she was unsure what the fuck could possibly be up this path that only seemed to wind upwards on an incline. He ignored her questioning, squeezing her thigh and told her it was fine as he smirked. She wasn’t truly distressed but her heart was beating harder as they made it up to an empty gravel parking lot at the top of the hill. 
Her nerves died down as her eyes widened, looking at the view. It was a perfect view of the lake and town below them. She’d never heard of this spot, but she definitely was a fan. He parked somewhat in the middle, letting them look out at the twinkling stars and the town below them, the boats bobbing on the water. The night was cool and he left the windows up to preserve some of the heat when he turned the car off and backed his chair up the most it could go. 
“Never got to fool around the way most people did in school. Know this is a local spot where people come to play… and I know about your exhibition streak.” His hand stroked her bare skin, turned to look at her. “So I figured… Why not now?”
That’s how she ended up on his lap, hands in his hair as he held both sides of her ass. Squeezing, kneading, playing with her like his own personal toy, Harry was enjoying it thoroughly as she gently rocked on top of him. His mouth was greedy for her own, surely smudging some of the black and white makeup onto her skin but she didn’t care. Sitting on his thicker thighs, letting him touch her as he pleased, she was only focused on how good it felt to kiss him. 
“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled as his lips went down her neck. “D’you know how happy it makes me to know they all know you’re mine?” It more than pleased him. Harry had never been as proud of having a girlfriend as he was with Y/N. She genuinely liked him, she saw both sides and didn’t prefer either one. Instead, she embraced him and went with his sometimes erratic flow, never seeming to mind. 
“They’re jealous.” She replied, leaning her head back as his mouth worked over the sensitive skin. His teeth nipped, of course, lips attaching to suck another mark she could hide with her hair as she continued. “Jealous I’ve got you. Some act happy but… they ask how I managed to get to know you. Said you never hooked up with anyone before me… And that makes me very happy.” Y/N had a possessive streak of her own, something that Harry fucking loved. He loved watching her pride when she walked with him, both in and out of makeup, and watching the slight irritation she had when people dug a little too deep into wanting to know about them. They never knew Harry was watching from the shadows, almost always following his girl around from a distance. She knew, though. She would shoot him looks to where she thought he was hiding, making him like her even more. 
“Know it does, my possessive girl. You don’t like t’share, hm?” He purred as he pulled back from the fresh mark. “Pretend to complain about the marks I leave on you but you leave ‘em out so they can see. You like them knowing you’re satisfied. Love that they know I’m the one fucking you.” It sent tingles up his spine knowing that. He’d been so used to people being ashamed of him that seeing her be so protective of him was just as arousing as it was heartwarming. 
His fingers strayed from her ass to find the waistband of those pesky little shorts, sliding them down so he had full access to her. He didn’t see her usual pantie line when she’d emerged from the changing booth and he was proven correct as she gasped. “Look at you. Naughty thing, walking around without panties… Why’s that? Thought you loved it when I stuffed them in that pretty mouth to shut you up.” He cooed, sliding one hand down to her cunt, cupping it to make her gasp. 
“I-I wanted it to be easier for you. You were teasing me all night and they were ruined anyway.” It wasn’t something she’d admit to anyone else, but the scaring with Harry aroused her. She loved making people scream, loved watching her boyfriend do the same with no fear in his eyes. Loved even more so when he moved them into her scare zone and helped her out with one. Then he had been following her around with that glint in his eye, always fucking watching her. Y/N loved it, loved that he was always there. There was probably a psychological reason, but all she knew was that her poor underwear had been soaked through. 
“Oh?” He chuckled under his breath. “Should’ve known. You do tend to be a mess when we scare together. Even more than when I just follow you around. Something’s wrong with us, hm? But we don’t care.” He pressed his lips to hers as his thumb found her clit, humming as she gasped against his mouth. She was slippery and wet, his favorite way for her to be as he played with her, rubbing circles over the little swollen button. “No, you like when things are wrong. Like to be watched and followed by me until I bend you over in that dressing room and shove my hand down these slutty little shorts. You taunt and tease and then act surprised when I fuckin’ ruin you.” 
Y/N keened, rubbing herself against him as he moved his thumb on her. Everything he said was the truth so all she could do was nod. She’d been so worked up during the night that even this felt good enough to orgasm from, his rough circles and deep voice getting deep into her head and igniting the flames in her belly. 
“Yeah? Just nodding, can’t even deny it. Knew you wore those to spite me. You just love the idea of someone catching us. Filthy girl, I know you. Know what your body likes.” He rubbed a bit harder, feeling her lean further into him as he did so. “What part has you humping my hand like you’re in heat? Was it feeling my eyes on you all day? Having people be jealous of us? Scaring people?” Y/N couldn’t speak, just whining as she nodded. All of the above.  
Y/N would have been ashamed of how quickly she was about to cum if he hadn’t been tormenting her all night. Like he didn’t know how much those things got to her. Her nails dug into the man’s shoulders, breathing heavy as her mouth opened. “I’m gonna cum.” She warned, albeit in a whimpery tone. Harry loved when she talked like that. His thumb was strong and kept up the movements as they were, his hand holding the back of her neck to keep her forehead pressed to his. 
“Go ahead. Make a mess of my lap, sweetheart. Can’t believe how worked up you are.” He cooed. He could, actually. Considering he was just as wound up, he was throbbing inside of his pants but preferred her pleasure over his own. “C’mon, baby. Can feel it.” 
He could tell as she began to fall over the edge, her body moving to hold onto his harder and her head falling into his own as his thumb continued the movements to work her through it. She let out a desperate moan, shivering in his arms. Harry loved making her cum, it was one of his favorite things to do- and getting to see each thing, hear each moan, he was only feeding into the addiction. 
“There we go, my sweet girl.” He praised. “Just ride it out.” Harry soothed her as the orgasm began to die down, pulling his thumb away as soon as she needed a second to be sensitive and pulling it into his mouth with a hum. His whole hand was wet with her, but tasting her on his skin was another level of hot. 
Y/N knew he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest. Her hand found his jaw and pulled him back for a kiss, drooping on his lap as she kissed him hungrily. The taste of her was still slight on his tongue, making her search for more. Her hands went to his belt, Harry allowing her to undo it and slide it off- but stopped her when she got to the zipper.
“Want t’try something new with you.” He started, suddenly opening the car door and standing up with her in his grip. Her shorts fell off onto the ground but that was the least of her worries as he rounded the front, gently bending her over the hood of his car. The cold metal of the vehicle made her wince momentarily, but his warm palms ran over her immediately to try and make it up to her. The night was chilly but her body was hot from the arousal she felt, his body in between her thighs as she moved for him. 
“Want to take you just like this.” He explained, taking her wrists one by one and placing them to lay behind her back. “And I want you to scream for me. No one’s out here… No one can hear us- or maybe they can.” His hand gave a gentle smack to her ass as he teased. “Just let me take you out in the open. Would’ve done it in the parking lot at work but… Cameras.” He didn’t want anyone else seeing her on video. No, nothing except his own one day. He wanted to have a private folder of the filthy views he got to see, her creaming on his cock, her ass jiggling against his hips, her glossy eyes as he slipped as much as he could down her throat. He wanted to document the pleasure to look at as his own time.  He’d never had someone he liked so much, someone’s body he was so addicted to. 
“Okay, just fuck me.” She panted, wiggling her ass against him. “Just do it, please. Been waiting all night and I need you.” All of this was hotter than most things she dreamt of. Harry taking her out to a wooded clearing, ready to fuck her in his scary makeup over the hood of his car? It sounded like something out of a horror movie about to turn wrong, but she knew he liked her too much. He worshiped her in ways she didn't know possible. It was a fantasy come true. 
“Relax, baby.” He cooed. “Don’t think you should be making too many demands. Y’know I like to be in charge.” She stiffened for a moment as she felt the tip of his cock brush through her folds before arching herself back, whining coming from her throat as he moved back and forth over her clit. “I know you’re achy, know your cunt’s a greedy little thing. M’gonna give it to you but… I just wanted to see this.” He held her by the small of her back keeping her still as he finally began to push in. 
Y/N’s eyes watered as she felt the stretch of him. Relief. She’d been taunted and teased and Harry was finally giving her what they both wanted. He was slow as he did it, his eyes locked at the puffy lips of her cunt as it swallowed him up. Pushing in and taking his time despite a bit of squirming. The wet, spongy walls engulfed him and squeezed tight, spoiling him in the sensation. There was nothing quite like this- quite like her. It didn’t feel this good with anyone else, nor had he ever done it at a place like this. He wouldn’t want to feel it, no other pussy or hole would be as good for him as this one was. Part of it was their emotional connection, he was positive about that, but he swore they had been made for each other physically. Her cunt was made specifically for him to cum in, and his cock to pleasure her. 
Her mouth opened and she let out a moan as he pulled out a little to thrust back in. He could feel his hunger for her growing as he continued, his eyes locked on where they were joined. The light was dim but there was enough moonlight to see her arousal coating him, glistening as he pulled out and pushed back in. It was their warm up, going easy and teasing just a little bit more. 
“Harder, please.” Y/N bleated, trying to wriggle around but to no avail. Harry had her pinned, and she was at his mercy. It would be embarrassing how wet she was getting if she didn’t know how much he loved it. No doubt he was staring at it now, as he always seemed to be mesmerized at how good they looked together. “Please give me more. You’re bein’ mean.” 
Harry stopped, chuckling under his breath as he buried himself to the hilt, prick snug and warm inside of her. Caressing her back, he slid his hand up and down until he got to her ass, squeezing over it. “You think this is being mean to you, darling?” He murmured, grinding himself into her and smirking as he felt her gasp as his cock hit that sweet spot. “I think I’ve been quite nice. Gave you a chance to adjust, didn’t split you open and wreck you. But I should have known better… m’dealing with a needy slut.” His words hissed against her ear as he bent over the car with her, pressing his body into her. “That’s what I get for bein’ a nice boyfriend. What did you want, hm? Wanted that scary man back from work? Gets you wet, we both know. Watching me make people scream, but it's you who wants that. Nasty little whore wants to be ruined.” He pulled up, hand wrapping around the nape of her neck and pinning her back to the car after she tried to follow. “No. I was nice, but you want something else. Want me to show you mean, princess?” His opposite hand came down rough on her ass, making her yelp. “I’ll show you mean.” 
It was gloves off. Y/N should have known she was playing with fire, but she’d been desperate. Harry began to fuck her. Well and truly, fuck her. Hand on the back of her neck pressing her into the car as she cried out into the chilly night air, owning her as her whimpers echoed off the trees. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck- yes.” Her mouth fell open, hard to speak the words she really wanted to. It made her wet, wetter than usual to have her boyfriend take her out and fuck her where they could potentially get caught. He had said this was a makeout spot, a sightseeing destination, but here he was. Pounding her cunt for all it was worth and making it weep. “S’good, s’good, H-Harry…” 
“Yeah? It’s good?” He sneered. “Finally good enough for the little cockslut? Wasn’t enough that I took you out here… bent you over my car and spread your legs like a bitch in heat… mm, no.” His thrusts were deep and hard, making her move and yelp a little bit as he fucked inside. “Been so nice to you lately, been so fucking sweet… Almost forgot about how much of a nasty bitch you can be.” Harry smacked her ass again, the stinging pain making her cunt quiver around him- because this was perfect. Filthy, a little bit wrong, and a little dangerous. 
“Sopping pussy, so fucking needy. Never seen such a dirty girl in my life, but s’why your mine, isn’t it?” He cooed, acting as if he wasn’t pummeling her. Y/N could barely breathe, his rough thrusts making her cheek press harder into the warming metal. She could hear it, hear how messy she was making the both of them and it only made it worse. She was bare and vulnerable to the world and Harr was just taking it, taking care of her and using what she was offering. Ruining her like he had been meant to do. 
“Uh huh.” She gasped, feeling the tears return to her eyes. “I-I’m yours, I’m yours, my body is yours, I want to m-make you happy.” The words were a hiccuped plea, the warm tears growing cold against her skin as the beginnings of her orgasm were starting to take over. Neither of them would last long like this, not after the foreplay and the new situation. She hadn’t expected to be bent over a car in the middle of the forest and fucked into oblivion in the moonlight, no, but this was quickly becoming a favorite. “Face- I wanna see your face, please.” 
Harry paused, smiling to himself as she asked to look at him. He was still in his makeup, albeit smeared, but he knew how much she loved it. He obliged, carefully pulling out and turning her over so her back laid against the hood. “There’s my pretty girl.” His mean persona melted away for a moment as he bent down to kiss her hard, pushing the hair away from her sweaty face. “Adore you. You okay?” He wasn’t a stranger to her crying during sex from the pleasure, but he wanted to double check.
“Mhm.” She was dazed, but so fucking good. He had surprised her for sure, but she loved every part of this. “Perfect. Keep making me cry, Sir.”
His eyes darkened once more at the honorific. Y/N knew how to push buttons, and she did it successfully with him. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she didn’t care. Seeing his face turn like that, even hidden beneath the layers, it made her clench around nothing. “Inside me, please.”
“At least the slut’s got manners.” He scoffed, angling himself as he thrust back in. It was a different view here. Instead of watching her ass bounce against him, he got to see her tits moving under her tank top as he began his thrusting yet again. They were covered in the thin excuse of a top and that simply wouldn’t do. “Why are you hiding from me? Let me see your tits.” He grunted, thumb finding her clit as he stared down at her. Y/N stared at him with a dazed expression for a moment before he snarled, smacking his fingers over her clit. “Know you get dumb on my cock, but fucking listen to me.”
And oh- Oh, Y/N loved that. Maybe there was something severely wrong with her, but she loved when he talked like that. It sent her into a frenzy, her poor abused pussy gushing slightly around him as he smacked her clit again. A keening whine left her throat as she scrambled to lift her shirt up, baring herself to him. It was a little humiliating in the best way. Being basically naked while getting fucked out in the open, her body flushed in heat now so the cold didn’t bother her and sounds leaving her body without her permission. Harry was playing into a fantasy, one she was all too aware of wanting to happen again. Anyone could drive up and see him wrecking her, anyone could watch how good she got fucked. 
“There you go. Not that hard, was it? My pretty, dumb little slut.” The man cooed, fingers finding her nipples, pinching them as he railed her.  “God, you’re making such a fucking mess on me. Gonna put me away wet, hm? Or should I make you suck me on the way back? Bet you would.” He babbled, watching as her breasts bounced at the force of his thrusts and her face pinched in pleasure. The sound of their fucking was audible, the smack of skin hot and heavy as it echoed off the trees. Y/N wasn’t being quiet, much to his delight. Moaning for him, for more, little crystalline tears dribbling out of the corners of her eyes and looking so pretty as they trailed down her cheeks. She was rambling about how good it felt, how much she needed him, and it fueled that evergrowing ego. 
Outside of their sex, he was the sweetest thing. He liked to dote on her and cuddle her, learning her skincare routine and braiding her hair when she was too tired after work. He took her to the park and made their own lunches, trying to expand outside his slightly agoraphobic bubble because she was giving him the affection and confidence he needed. Y/N wasn’t at all ashamed to be seen holding his hand or kissing his cheek, she had changed his life and ways she had no clue of- and giving her the best sex possible was the least he could do. 
During sex she liked him a little mean, which he loved to lean into. But this was a lot, and she was responding so fucking well- he knew from their limits discussion that he was okay to do it, but seeing it actually pan out positively gave him a confidence kick yet again.  
Her babbling continued but got higher in pitch, her eyes continuing to cry as she sniffled and whimpered his name as she held on to one of his forearms with force. “Yes, anything y-you want. Wanna make you happy, Sir. Please, I just…” She let out a little sob. “M’gonna cum. Can I? Please?” The beg was cute, his smirk growing on his face as he looked at the desperation on hers. There was something so erotic about this vision in front of him. Her lips still stained from her lipstick and puffy from their kisses and biting, the tiniest bit of mascara still on her lashes smearing under her eyes, his prior love bites in different stages on her tits- this was fucking heaven and he wished he could photograph it- but that was for later. 
“May I.” He scolded, smacking over her clit again to make her jolt. “Ask properly, and you can.” 
Y/N scrambled to answer as he felt the beginnings of it on his cock. He knew how perfect it felt when she came wrapped around him, but it was even better that she wanted his approval.  “May I cum, please Sir? Please- I can’t hold it, I really can’t, wanna be good, I need to-” Her panicked voice broke as his thumb brushed repeatedly over her swollen clit. There was no way she could hold it. Not when he was looking down at her with that glint in his eye. 
“Do it. Make a mess.” He ordered. “Cum for me, now.” He continued his thrusts as he felt the rapid clenching take over, her back arching and tits thrust in the air as she let go. Creaming around him, shivering as she let out a broken sob yet again, louder this time as she writhed under him. Her hot walls pulsed around him, as if begging for his cum- and he was going to give it to her. 
“Fuck, there’s my girl. Look so fucking gorgeous when you cum f’me, shit.” He grit through his teeth as his thrusts grew sloppy. “Where do you want it? Where does my pretty little whore want that cum?” He didn’t have much time left for her to answer, but her body did it for him. Lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him into her as she finally found the words.
“In, inside, inside me, Harry. Cum in me, give it to me, I want it.” She rambled, begging for it. How could he ever say no to that? The desperation, the true yearning for him to bust his load inside of her hot, perfect cunt and paint it white, he couldn’t resist it. His eyes took in the scene in front of him, how her puffy cunt was clinging to him as he pushed her open. The mess of slick and cream forming a filthy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked into her, smeared over the sides. Her trembling thighs and hard nipples moved along with his movement. Her swollen clit that was sensitive to the touch, how he fucking stretched her to the brim. There was nothing hotter than this. 
He cursed loudly as he began to climax, his balls throbbing as he began to spurt his load inside of her. Mouth open and eyes hooded in pure rapture, he watched as his sloppy thrusts inside of her and his cum began to coat him, making even more of a mess between them. It was nasty and hot and perfect for this scenario, a scary man taking a pretty, innocent little thing for all she was worth over the hood of his car in the dark woods. The strength of said orgasm surprised him, making him lean further over and pull her into him. His face found hers, kissing her mouth again as he worked them through the aftershocks of their pleasure, pulling her up so he could hold her against him. 
“My perfect girl. Did so good, always so fuckin’ good for me.” He mumbled against her mouth, giving her the praise he knew she needed. He hadn’t been that mean before and while she enjoyed it, she needed to have no doubts whatsoever about his affections for her. “M’so proud of you. Took it so well, make me so happy, my little angel. Obsessed with you.” He pecked her between sentences, pausing his thrusts to a halt. Staying inside of her for now, he knew it would hurt when he pulled out. There was no rush, only to make sure she was warm. Based off of both of their sweaty bodies, the chill of the autumn night was more than welcome. 
Pulling back from her lips, he stroked the tears that still fell- albeit at a much slower pace- and cleaned her up the best he could. There was no way to feel clean after sex like that and he knew it would be a nice shower when they got back to his place, but he was still going to do a bit of aftercare here and now. “My baby.” He whispered, voice a little hoarse. “Y’alright? Went a bit more intense than normal.” It was a bit of an understatement, really. Her nod in reply wasn’t good enough for him. “None of that. You know I want your words, precious.” 
“M’good.” She whispered, sounding just as tired and fucked as she looked. “So good, but so tired. Loved that a lot.” She clung to him, her achy arms wrapping around his shoulders as he picked her up off of the hood and carried her to the still open backseat. He apologized profusely, cooing at her as he pulled out, but he needed to clean her up.
“As sexy as it is seeing me dripping from you, can’t have my girl uncomfortable.” his lips pressed against her thigh as he gently wiped her clean with the tissues that were conveniently in the car. “Gonna take you home and we can hop in the shower, hm? Grab some food on the way home?” He grabbed her discarded shorts and slowly began to pull them up her legs. “Know I’m not into fast food but you deserve a treat.” 
Y/N perked up, a sleepy smile on her face as Harry’s nimble fingers adjusted her tank top and grabbed his hoodie from the other side of the backseat to pull over her head. He’d seen the goosebumps on her legs. His thoughtfulness aways did astound her. No one would ever guess he just called her a pretty, dumb little slut. He encased her in a soft bubble of affection as soon as the sex was over and she’d never known anything like it before. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any other partners. As early on as it was, as the days passed she began to become sure that the meeting between them was no coincidence. Her finding this job, applying, and catching the one man’s eye who never hooked up with anyone whilst also not in the market to do so, giving into his flirtations, all of it was fate. There was no other option. Something had pulled her in. 
For something meant to be so scary, it sure ended up being sugary sweet. 
“Sounds good.” She sighed, pulling him closer to kiss his puffy lips again. “Can you just hold me for a minute, though?” That vulnerable feeling was different now, in the shadows of their intense lust. It was floaty and soft and Harry was the anchor that made sure she didn’t fly too far away. 
“Course. M’never going to say no to holding you.” In all honesty, if he could do his work all day with her snuggled in his lap, he would. He never felt the need for personal space around her, and as scary as that had felt at first, he knew now that it was just the feeling of a pairing being right. It was early, some may say too early to tell, but he was pretty sure he’d found the one. 
Someone who saw him as more than Scarred.
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leqonsluv3r · 4 months
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hi! i love your writing sm so i wanted to ask you if you could do a short fic about leon’s first day at the rpd and reader is a detective or someone who works at the rpd and they become friends or something else <3
just the thought of leon being silly and shy about the little party they made just for him to say “welcome” makes my heart skip a beat……..
anyways have a good day! <33
so high school
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—leon joins the police department and you just know that he’s going to be everything to you, a blurb
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an: i hope this is what you had in mind <33 i left it open ended at the ending for your guys imagination. thank you guys again for 900, i love you all. sorry it’s taking me so long to get out all my requests. they’re open again in my bio. pls reblog, comment and interact to support your writers.
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the first thing you thought of when you saw leon was how he was too cute to be a cop. that was your first thought, your second was how is this man single.
you didn’t know he was single at first, but for his entry papers, it didn’t say anything about a spouse or an emergency contact girlfriend. which made you very, very happy.
he was a sweetheart, he left a lasting impression on you and you didn’t know how to handle it. helping you carry files to the file room and taking desk duty in stride.
he was humble, sweet and outgoing.
you didn’t really see any faults in him, not at all. most guys you did date in the past, you could see the red flags from a mile away. like a big ugly tattoo on their forehead that just said: STAY AWAY! IM TERRIBLE!
but with leon, it wasn’t like that.
he didn’t ever say anything negative about anyone, he didn’t mention hating being on desk duty. he just simply lived and did his job, same as you. it made you feel lighter being around him. especially getting to know him, getting an idea of him.
you liked him a lot.
you realized that when you agreed to host his welcome party two weeks after he had been hired, most entry coordinators didn’t want too. but you practically jumped at the opportunity to give him his dream welcome party into the unit.
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you planned it all out, you went a little overboard. which wasn’t always a bad thing but in this case…it was extreme.
you never did this for any of the other rookies welcome parties you helped organized, you never went this far. blue and yellow balloons, a large chocolate cake, a big banner that you custom designed. all made for leon and based on his tastes over the last two weeks you’d known him.
but when he arrives, a surprise, he sees all the effort. he sees all the decorations and he sees you. he never had felt so welcome in his entire life.
his mom never even put this much effort into his birthday party’s when he was a kid. so his surprise wasn’t fake, it was real and it was written all over his face as he scanned his room of coworkers leading all the way to you.
you, you were so welcoming. so goddamn magnificent that it made his head spin, you got him everything he wanted right down to a T. all the decorations, the cake…the banner.
it was everything.
you were everything, he’d had a crush on you the first day he started. the first day he saw you and you swiped him up into your world. he felt like he was on a different planet half the time when he was with you.
he had to tell you, he owed it to you.
after all, you did throw him an amazing welcome party.
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he made his way to you half-way through the party. you were just so gorgeous and he liked you so much, god. you were so…he couldn’t even put words to it.
if he had to pick a dream girl, it would be you.
and he didn’t even realize he had those standards until you came into his life, making it turn from a dull throbbing gray to a beautiful multicolored world. one that used to be so drab for him but now…
now it gave him purpose.
and if you rejected him, at least he got to say he tried. got to say that he attempted to reach your heart, your mind…just you.
he might look like an idiot if you said no, but at least he was attempting. he was trying to make that attempt to confess and not be a coward in front of people like he usually was.
“you did this all for me? i knew you were up to something.” he says with a small smirk on his face when he approaches you. his blue eyes scanning you with nothing but appreciation. something that made butterflies flutter in your belly.
you shrugged innocently, your face heating up into flames. “i just wanted to give you a good welcome. you deserved it, especially when you got saddled with desk duty.” you crack a smile up at him, your eyes never leaving his.
“i don’t mind desk duty. my view is pretty great.” he says with a subtle teasing smirk as he looks down at you, you knew that his desk was a few over from his and he could look directly at you. you bite on your bottom lip and your cheeks flush a deeper scarlet.
you look up at him, “i’m glad you like it,” you gesture to the party around you. all your coworkers talking and the decorations. “i worked hard…i just wanted you to feel welcome.”
he smiles widely, dimples and all. “it worked, i feel welcome. you’ve made me feel welcome.” he feels himself admitting as his blue sparkling eyes rove over you.
you feel your body become hot beneath your pencil skirt and blouse, “uhm, i-i yeah, well…” you try to say but fail miserably, gnawing on your bottom lip.
“anyways,” he saved you with a small smile, tilting his head down to look into your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe we could…uhm, go out sometime?” he managed to get out. he felt like it was hot in here, like his uniform was strangling him.
your heart was beating out of your chest, you blinked up at him. you almost felt like you could pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be asking her out, he couldn’t like you like you liked him.
“uhm, me…me? you mean me right?” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the punch you were holding in your hand. he smiles beautifully at you, showcasing his cute cheeks and his straight teeth, “yeah, i was talking to you. unless you see any other beautiful office managers around here?” he says with a small scan of his blue eyes over your frame.
you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. his words and his eyes, dear god.
you straighten your spine, “i’d…i’d love too.” you manage to get out with a small gnaw on her bottom lip to hold back the smile threatening to beam on her face.
he feels relief flood over him, the amount of it was overwhelming. you had no idea how much he needed to hear those words from your lips. to hear you say that you wanted to go out with him.
“that’s-thats cool, yeah. i’m…i’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while.” he admits with a small quirk of his lips, feeling the nerves frazzle out of his body and short circuit his brain.
you can’t help the smile and blush that coats your cheeks, to feel the liking that was reciprocated by him. even after throwing him this party, it was still nice to know where you stood with him.
but you knew now.
“me too.” you blush as you keep your eyes on him, the party continued around them but they stayed deep in their conversation. like it would pain either of them to tear the attention away from each-other for five seconds.
“i’ve wanted…to ask you out, but ive been too nervous. i didn’t know how you would react.” you say softly as you sip on your drink, trying to find something else to focus on besides the red on your cheeks and the thrumming of your heart.
he smiles gently, “your too pretty to be nervous. but i would’ve said yes.” he says with a small wink in her direction, he had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he was glad he found it in this moment.
you look down at your punch in your hands, trying to will your heart to relax for five seconds. you were going to go out on a date with him. you were talking to him. he liked his welcome party…he was flirting with you.
it was safe to say you had him.
and he had you.
“i can’t wait for our date.” you say softly, looking up in his direction. your eyes gleaming a little as you stared at him, with something bordering on fascination and excitement.
he grins sheepishly and looks down at you, taking a small step closer. “me either. your gonna look so beautiful. your always beautiful but…i bet you look even better out of work clothes.” he says with a small gesture of his blue eyes up and down your frame.
you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “thank you.” you breathe out some air, trying to calm the nerves and the erratic beating out of your chest at his compliment, his eyes. just everything about him.
it made you feel like you were a giddy high schooler with a crush. like you were back in school and you were talking to a guy you were so enamored with, it just made sense with leon. you were so comfortable around him but your feelings made you feel like a frazzled teenager.
like you were back where you once were, it was exciting.
you knew he was the one, even if you hadn’t had the first date yet. you just had a gut feeling.
and your gut was always right.
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taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you wanna be added interact with the link at the beginning <33)
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Something bothers me about Fiona/Nightfall…
Okay so in my first chair analysis post, someone reblogged it saying that Fiona/Nightfall might hate Twilight and turn on him as he and Yor get close with each other  and I can actually see it happening. Right now, it’s still less likely but it’s not impossible for her to turn rogue and here’s how the manga suggests it.
She’s the one who usually let’s her emotions guide her despite appearing emotionless, like how she almost endangered Operation Strix through visiting Twilight's home without any consent from her superiors, causing for Yor to doubt her marriage with Loid.
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Sylvia, her Handler, told her not to do anything but she ignores it...
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She even broke that policy among fellow agents by making an unnecessary contact with Twilight...
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And in this chapter, Twilight's statement suggests that Fiona/Nightfall seems to also have a problem losing her cool, letting her emotions control her and that often gets the way in her missions.
In everything she does, what motivates her is the hope to gain Twilight’s affection.
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When she does something, it wasn’t because she genuinely cares for peace and other people's sake herself. She just strives for peace because it’s what Twilight wanted. It's mostly displayed in the recent mole arc chapters.
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This isn't really that necessary but it's just cringey and uncomfy to me how she says Twilight is like her little toy knife, when Twilight was never hers. I really don't like this part of her personality when she thinks she knows everything about Twilight when she knows nothing about the real him, the past him and the man he's slowly becoming.
So moving on, when it finally dawns on her that she will not ever have Twilight's affection, I don’t know what she could do.
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I mean it is hinted when she’s first introduced that she’s the one who’s most likely to betray someone in the agency and it might be a judgmental comment from a hateful coworker but knowing how the plot is moving right now, I know Endo could be throwing subtle details that could mean more in the future. And who knows, she might’ve done it before. When?
Let’s go back to the exchange of Twilight and Franky during Chapter 2 when Loid is finding someone suitable to be his fake wife.
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Twilight stated that most of the female operatives in their agency were wiped out during the recent spy sweeps. Female agents we're the one who are mostly wiped out and Franky mentions someone must've ratted them out to the SS.
I think, this might be a wild and far fetched theory but it's not impossible, Fiona/Nightfall was the one who ratted those female agents. Why? She might have received the information for Operation Strix, considering that all Wise agents seems to know about the Operation. She probably eliminated all female agents that might've suited to be Twilight's fake wife.
Cause if you think about, it is really practical for Wise to have the wife be a spy too, it would be really convenient for the mission. However, the candidates they think are capable of being an ideal wife and mother just get outed like that in the SS and this spy sweep just happened to be when Twilight is looking for a wife.
Nightfall might've thought, finally, she could fulfill her utmost desire to be Twilight's wife. Yet Wise has a different idea. Even if she's the only female agent left, she still isn't suitable for the role and I think Handler purposely didn't pick her knowing she has feelings for Twilight and her emotion might get the best of her, thus could compromise the mission. Handler, as a former wife and mother herself, could also think Nightfall can't do the job of a wife and especially of a mother properly. So I have this hunch that Handler purposely gave her another mission at that time so she can't complain about not being picked as Twilight's wife for Operation Strix.
Yes, Nightfall might be on the good side now because she’s helping to maintain peace and she's protecting Twilight. But her main intention why she’s doing this is so subjective and dependent that I think it would really affect her judgment in the future when she realizes reality is different from her fantasies.
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"Not What I Planned." Rusty Nail X AFAB! Reader.
Well hello! It is the amazing and fantastic @eggsandbeer birthday so, so soon! But I am meeting Matt and Skeet tomorrow and my brain is gonna be all on Billy and Stu post that, so you get this now! This is my first time writing Rusty, I watched Joy Ride 2 six times while writing this. I love Riri, she is so fucking awesome and I adored doing this. She has a more personalized version but gave the go ahead to post a reader insert version for you all! So let's go!
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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.7K (I Know.) Rusty Nail X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Customer Service Work. Asshole Customers. Murder Mentioned. Drinking. Making Out. Man Handling. Fingering. Masturbation. Blow Job. Cum Eating. Vaginal Sex. Riding. Taunting. Teasing. Dirty Talk. Praise. Pet Names.
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You hate your job, it is exhausting, mentally and physically, a total drain, but you do all you can to not let it get you down. You focus on the little things, good customer interactions, great coworkers and the times you are truly able to get away from your work. It isn’t like it’s what you wanted to do for the rest of your life anyway, far from it, in fact one of those vital lifelines that helps keep you sane is a local news internship, it gives you some good experience for what you hope to actually eventually do with your life along with giving you purpose. 
Today is not good, though, off to a less than ideal start. This is decidedly not the way you wanted to spend your birthday. Rolling into the grocery store to do a closing shift, apron in your grip and bag over your shoulder, half-hearted waves to co-workers as you strolled through towards the area you could safely stow away your stuff until you are allowed to clock out. You do just that, drop your stuff in the usual place, get your uniform situated and punch in, ready for another day of God knows what bullshit. 
Your mind was at least slightly occupied, where you work is en route to the Burning Man festival which meant that you were busy as fuck with people loading up on supplies before they arrive to their final destination, it kept you busy. As for what kept your brain whirring, your internship had tasked you with writing a piece on the crowd that is rolling through on their way, meaning you are watching and listening intently. It looks like you aren’t from the outside, hands stacking a fruit display, but ears open, all sorts of talk about events the Burners were amped up for, how much further they had to travel, what snacks were the best and would keep in the desert heat. 
You did some actual work naturally, finding yourself crouched and cleaning out a stubborn drain, the process thoroughly annoying and honestly degrading, and not in the fun way you usually liked. It was your fucking birthday, for Christ’s sake, you should be indulging in the fun kind of calve burning, not the bent over and unclogging kind. Still, you try to stay in higher spirits and certainly not show it outwardly, if someone squinted hard enough, they might be able to pick up on it. 
Later on, you had just finished making a new display, standing back and looking at the gorgeous display of apples you’d spent longer than you cared to mention on, hands on your hips. The first genuine smile that had graced your face since clocking in and wasn’t tinged with a single hint of perfectly practised customer service fakeness. This is one of those moments you felt genuine pride in your work, a glimmer of nicety in all the bullshit. 
It lasted for two whole seconds.
A customer’s cart hits you in the hip and wrist simultaneously because of how you were standing, the action both painful and shocking, completely unexpected. It makes you step to the side, grip your wrist with your other hand, the pain is throbbing and dull, it isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever experienced, but it still sucks and should have never happened in the first place. The customer doesn’t apologize. Worse still, they stride forward, pick a single apple from the middle of the display, causing half of it to tumble over. The customer scoffs with a roll of their eyes, they drop the apple into their cart to look around, seeming to notice you just now for the first time, only then acknowledging you. They give a pointed look from you to over their shoulder, a motion of their head as they criticized your work, “Not very sturdy.” 
Your mouth falls open, and they tut as they walk away, leaving you dumbfounded with fifteen some odd apples scattered on the ground that you had to clean up and a display you had to rebuild. 
Later still, you are sweeping, trying to get these damn onion skins up, but they aren’t moving. You are half focused, conversing with one of the Burners, they are asking for your opinion on what kombucha is best, and you are humouring them and getting a few questions answered along the way. 
Throughout all the regular work crap, you’d been having small conversations with people, writing brief notes for your project, and it was nice getting some serious stuff down about it, served as a half decent distraction too. 
His initial thought is that it was reminiscent of a zoo, upon greater thought while attempting to park the Peterbilt he decided swiftly that it was worse than that, a fucking circus. He manages to park and decides that getting in and out as fast as possible would be vital to maintaining his sanity. He was aware that Burning man was happening, naturally, but still the place was crowded as all Hell, more than he had been anticipating. Rusty didn’t like large crowds of people, but he needs some supplies, he needs to eat. 
It isn’t any better inside. 
He is making his way around, hat pulled low, basket in his grip, grabbing a few drinks, some favoured snacks that he knew kept well, he was passing by the produce, almost ready to get the fuck out. He goes into your department, he is grabbing bananas and thinking about getting some of those pre-cut carrot and celery sticks. Rusty is trying to be a tad more health minded, not like it would do much with how much he enjoys a good smoke but better to do something than nothing he supposed. 
His train of thought is broken when he hears a loud exclamation of, “I can’t believe how fucking stupid you are!”
Rusty’s head turns, he catches sight of you, standing there, trying to look apologetic as some older lady is verbally ripping into you, “I’m making lemon chicken LEEK stroganoff, right?”
She is looking at you expectantly, your eyes wide, and with that half customer service forced smile you nod and say through gritted teeth, “Right.” 
“So tell me, how. Am I. Supposed. To make. Lemon, chicken LEEK stroganoff without LEEKS?” The way she said it was infuriating, the halting, pausing way of it, so condensing, as if you were the cross between an idiot and a child all rolled into one. 
“I don’t know, ma’am. I guess you can’t. I’m very sorry.” You admit it reluctantly, knowing she won’t like your response, and she does not. She goes off on you, “Well I’ve had this menu planned for WEEKS, I have company coming tonight! You have to make this right!” 
Rusty was listening in, brow pinching, this woman was off her rocker, what a complete bitch. You were trying to calm her, smooth over the situation, and she was being worse and worse to you. No matter what you say, she wouldn’t stop freaking out. 
“I really am very sorry. I could call another store nearby and ask if they have any leeks?” You offer up, and she scoffed with a laugh, “So I can make ANOTHER stop? Do you not remember? I am hosting a dinner party tonight, I’m busy! I have other places to go, I can’t be here fighting with you over this all night!”
And yet she was still here, doing just that. 
He had turned, wasn’t watching quite as subtly as he was previous. You were doing your best and none of it was measuring up to this crazy, impossible standard that was being set out. He was looking at you, and he could see that you were taking it hard, your customer service face and voice were holding strong, but your eyes? They looked so sad. 
You reminded him of a kicked puppy, as the woman finally had enough of being a raging cunt and stormed off. Right after that, someone else in uniform walked by, a manager? And on their way, they said, “Happy birthday.”
You gave a small, “Thanks.” along with half a wave as they strode past. You were not only working on, but getting treated like that, on your birthday? 
It got to him, hit him square in the chest, shot to the heart. A sigh and he looks over, he makes a note of the asshole who mistreated you so, he has a little time before they check out before he can go dispose of them in the parking lot for being so unreasonable and rude to you. It might be too far for some people but not for him, people like that, there is no changing them, not at her age, some people don’t deserve to live. 
First things, first though, he saunters over to you, a small clearing of his throat before he asks, “Got a date tonight, there a drink you’d recommend?” 
You turn towards the low and smooth voice, you have to turn your head up to look at him properly, he was taller than you. The way he was standing, the angle, and how he wore his hat you couldn’t see his face, brim pulled too low, standing a few feet away.
A small inhale and your smile turned more genuine before you reply, “Oh, our Pink Champagne is my favourite. I get that on special occasions.” 
Well, how fucking perfect a find were you? Kind, respectful, hardworking, and you have good taste. 
“Thank you.” He said it easily with a wave of his hand in acknowledgement and broke away. You watch him go and think to yourself that he is cute, in that particular way that strikes you when an older guy catches your eye just so. The interaction doesn’t stick with you however, you turned and saw more fucking onion skins that needed sweeping up.
Hours later, you finally get off of work, messed up apron in one hand and looking forward to getting the hell home. You had two days off ahead, you were intent on a bath and partaking in some drinks in your fridge with a good record on when you get home. You are walking through the dark and now very empty parking lot, your mind only focused on reaching your car, sliding behind the wheel and getting home as soon as possible, when you hear a voice calling out. Your car keys are in one hand, the keys between your fingers, sticking out and ready to punch a would be attacking if you need to. 
Hearing the voice makes you put your head on a swivel, initially scared, you look and then see it is that older gentlemen you helped out earlier. You pause, and he comes a little closer, again in the dark and with that hat you can’t make out much except for the orange glow of the end of his cigarette, partially illuminating the lower half of his face. He calls out your name, following it with a question of, "-right?” 
“Hi, yeah it is.” You were still sightly on edge until he is holding up the very same bottle you suggested earlier, “Wanted to say thank you for your recommendation, properly.” 
Your brows raise up, you saw him in the store hours ago, meaning he should in theory be long gone, and you ask, “I thought you had a date?” 
“I do. I was just waitin’ for her to get off work.” Even though you couldn’t see it fully, you could hear the smile in his tone, and it makes one spread to your own face. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize that was you asking me out.” 
The tone you said it in was very light, and he seemed equally amused, “Sorry bout that, terrible manners on my part, truly.”
There is a beat of silence, and you say, “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” 
“So you’d be willing to join me?” He asks, you nod, you felt endeared to him very quickly, the confidence he displayed, the boldness, you were charmed and figured why not? You had the time tonight, nothing wrong with enjoying a birthday drink bought by a courteous man. 
“Where are we going to go?” You ask, and he gestured over to the large shiny black Piterbilt towards the back of the lot. “Was thinking my truck, if that’s alright with you?”
When he asks in that delicious tone of voice, you think that yes, it is very alright with you. “Lead the way.” You prompt, and he does, you fall into step beside him, apron is thrown over your shoulder, and you asked, “So you’re a truck driver?”
“How’d you ever guess?” He asked on an exhalation of his cigarette with a glance over to you. Now you can catch the half smirk on his face, unable to make out his eyes completely, but it didn’t bother you, honestly you kind of dug the mysterious kind of thing, not even fully knowing what he looked like. If anything that communicated how into him, you were, hadn’t even seen his whole face but his voice and how he carried himself was more than enough to convince you to this odd kind of unexpected date. 
“I’m real intuitive. Call it a gift.” You mused, and he liked you, even in how you joked, there was no real meanness to it, could tell that it was all in fun and that inherent niceness shone through. “Giving me gifts when it’s your birthday? Isn’t that what M’ supposed to be doing?” 
That gives you some slight pause, how in the fuck did he know that it was your birthday? Before any serious question could be made, you were next to his truck on the passenger side. You look it over and say honestly, “Nice truck.”
“Thanks, do my best to take real good care of it, s’ seen some rough times.” You look a little closer, scrutinizing, if it had, you couldn’t tell, the thing looked clean and not a scratch on it. You turn and lean against it, you realize he had gotten some cups that were also sold at your work, he holds them out, “Mind holding these while I open this?”
You nod and take them out of his outstretched hand and watch as the last remainder of his cigarette was dropped and ground under the heel of his boot. He uncorks the bottle with ease, doesn’t spill any or cause it to overflow, which mildly impresses, you hold out the cups and he fills them. The bottle is set aside on the ground and after passing him his cup he asked “Any words to share?”
“Here’s to the weekend?” You offered up after a moment’s thought, and he said, “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks yours and his cups together, and you take a sip of the sweet and familiar fizzy alcoholic drink. 
“Seriously the shift I had today was rough, so this is really nice, thank you-” Then you realize you don’t know his name, he clearly picks up on this and says, “Name’s Rusty. Rusty Nail.” 
Immediately you figure it must be his CB handle, you wonder if Rusty is his real name, but also you don’t think it matters much, you don’t press, “Well thank you, Rusty, really.” 
“S’ my pleasure. Heard how that woman was going off on you earlier, some people can be so rude.” Is that what prompted this? The total bitch who was freaking over leeks? If so, you think that maybe her being such a raging cunt wasn’t such a bad thing if it led to this. 
Little did you know that Rusty had taken care of her, she was currently stuffed in the trunk of her own car, way, way on the other side of the lot, body long since gone cold. 
The conversation then turned to you both complaining about a shared distaste for rude and unreasonable people, he let you vent about your day and previous horrible customers at your job. As the conversation went on, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You also find yourself standing closer to him, half the bottle gone, he’s had another smoke, and you are leaning on him much more than the truck, he doesn’t mind, you sigh to him, “I cannot believe the crap you have to put up with, it’s so unfair!” 
“Some people have some really unsavoury and outdated views on people in my line of work.” He admits with a nod, and from what he’d shared it seemed like. There are people who say the meanest shit, make horrible assumptions, treat him like dirt or worse, a feeling you know all too well at your own job. You relate to Rusty. 
You’d been talking for an hour, and it was even later, darker, and a shiver unexpectedly ran up your spine, “You cold?”
You were a little, you were in a t-shirt and after standing in one spot for so long this late the chill had somehow set in. “Yeah, surprisingly I am a bit.” 
Then he made an interesting offer. “You want to get in my truck, warm up?” 
You think you really did want that. “Yeah, that’d be great, actually.” 
He moved back then and so did you, he opened the door for you, and you looked up, Christ it was big, how were you supposed to get in while in your slightly buzzed state without looking like a total clown? You feel him against your back, he asks, “Need some help?”
You nod, unsure of what he means or how he is going to help but trusting him all the same, it’s then that you feel his hands on you. He turns you, and then those same hands find your waist with ease and grip. He lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you realize to him, you probably do, as he helps hoist you into the passenger side of the truck. Rusty sits you on your ass in the seat and your face feels much hotter, he just scooped you up and set you down so fast, one simple and fluid motion as he stepped one foot up on the running board, and then there you were. You are side-saddle, legs dangling down and far off of the ground. His hands leave you quicker than you’d like, sliding off your waist and stepping back down. You are a bit dazed, his hand touches your ankle, and you jump, he laughs at your surprised, “What?”
“You wanna get your legs in, so I can close the door?” You nod and do so, swinging your legs in, and he shuts the door. Your hand, that had been clutching your bag and apron, dropped them on the floor by your feet. You look down into your cup, you hadn’t spilled any even when he picked you up, the cup is raised, you tip it back and swallow down the remainder. A sigh and you pull the cup back, hand still clutching it, comes to rest on your thigh as your thumb on your opposite hand swipes a stray drop from the corner of your mouth. He had come around to the other side, he has the door open and is sliding in beside you into the driver's seat, he’d picked up the bottle on the way, and you were contemplating asking for more.
As if reading your mind he gestures for your cup, you lean over, holding it out, and he pours you some more, you asked him, “So before, you were talking about all the bad stuff about truck driving, but what about the stuff you do like?”
The question seems to surprise him if his tone is any indication, “The stuff I do like?” 
He has pulled the bottle back, he isn’t pouring more for himself, you respond to his question with another of your own, “Yeah, what makes the job worth it? Other than the money.” 
Rusty considers the question for a moment before he says, “I like seein’ the country, like being by myself most of the time but most of all? Probably seems obvious, but the freedom of it.” 
You nodded, it made sense and asked, “Can go anywhere, do anything?” 
“S’actly.”  
The silence is as surprisingly comfortable as the passenger seat of this truck is. The thought hits, and you say it without thinking, “I dunno how you do it.” 
“What? Truck drivin’?” He asks, and you say with a turn to him, “Yeah! Like, the actual driving it.”
He laughs, and you press on, one hand holding your cup and the other making like you are gripping a steering wheel that was comically large, pretending to turn it, “Seriously! This thing is massive, it’s a beast! How can you control it?”
“Ain’t that hard really, just gotta be the right mix of careful and confident.” He assures, and you laugh, “You make it sound so easy, I’ve never driven anything this big, that-” You point out the window to your much less impressive ride, “-is my car over there.” 
“Yeah, don’t quite measure up, does it?” He teases and you grin, “Nope. But I don’t think I could drive anything like this.”
“I think you could.” A small pause before he asks the big question, “Wanna try?” 
You nearly choke on your sip and pull the cup back, wiping at your mouth, “What? Me? Drive the behemoth? You want to write it off that bad, Rusty?” 
“You cannot be that bad a driver.” He scoffs. 
“Rusty, you barely know me, I dunno-” He insists, “C’mon, I’ll help.”
“Help?”
You were curious enough to allow it to happen, you’d not counted on his idea of help being putting you in his lap. He’d moved the seat back enough and encouraged you to climb on, emboldened by both the drink and his encouragement, you slide on into the space he made. He moves the seat forward enough to do the pedals, and he places your hands on the wheel, his hands covering yours. “You sure this is a good idea?” 
Nerves were setting in, you’d been drinking, not a lot but also all the close contact with him was getting to you, his attractiveness was apparent during your brief meeting earlier but now that you'd’ been getting to know him? He was becoming even more appealing, being sat in his lap, your back to his chest, his hands on yours, you felt flustered. Sounded by him in both touch and scent, it could be enough to make your head swim if you let it. In your current position, his voice is over your shoulder, “Positive. You’ll be fine.” 
The tone of voice he says it in, the conviction, he makes you believe it. 
One of his hands leaves yours briefly to start her up, the truck rumbles to life, and it makes you jump slightly, Christ it was loud and is vibrating like all Hell. “We’ll just do a lil’ loop, alright? M’ doing the pedals, you just steer her real easy.” 
He had to speak louder to be heard over the hum of the truck, and you pitch your own volume up to be heard, “Yeah, real easy, can do.” 
His foot comes down slowly, and he eases it forward, you grip the wheel tightly and let him lead. He talks you through the process, and it helps, you focus your eyes forward and your ears on listening to his smooth voice praising you, “Uh-huh, around the pole, use it as a guide.” You swallowed and nodded, brows knit together as he keeps talking, “Oh good job, see? You’re doing it.” 
His hands squeeze yours reassuringly, your mouth feels dry, you nod and say quieter than you should, “Thanks.”
“No need to thank me, you’re doing most of the work.” You feel that isn’t truthful but again, he talks, you believe. 
“Almost all the way around, a little further-” Both his hands leave yours, sliding down your arms and choosing to come to rest on your waist again, letting you fully be in control. It makes you tense, rushing out, “Rusty, wait-”
Another flex of his hands, another show of comfort, he says easily, drawling out, “Calm down, you’re doing it all yourself.” 
You aren’t fully convinced until you’ve made the full loop, and he lets off the gas, he turns off the car and your shoulders slump, what he says next, makes you melt, “I told you. You’re perfect.” 
That does something, makes a particular part of you break, or is it wake up? Either way, a certain section of you, somewhere aside, comes alive, and instead of wanting to run from it, you chose to grab onto the live wire of sensation with both hands. The truck has stopped, but you keep moving, the urge overcomes, and you turn in your seat and in his lap, one hand comes up, meets his cheek, feeling the rough stubble. He’d already gotten you the champagne, but you think you want more still, and you ask, “Can I be selfish?”
“S’ your birthday, be as selfish as you want to.” You take that is more than enough of an invitation. You lean up and in, push the brim of his hat up enough to give yourself the appropriate access, and you kiss him. 
He had a feeling it was going this way, but thinking and experiencing are two different things. You choosing to take the lead was better than he could have been hoping for, though. Your mouth was so fucking soft, you felt warm, he tried to take it easy, but this is the kind of thing he can’t help getting swept up in. Chances like this don’t come around often, the urge to rush is present, he manages to ignore it, preferring to savour it, or rather, savour you. He lets himself relax further into the seat, returning your affection immediately. 
The scratch of his facial hair against your skin feels better than you’d hoped it would, you let out a soft exhale, a sound on the precipice of a moan while still falling just short. His hands are still on your waist, he nudges you closer, you lean in more, your head tilts, his lips part, and he tastes more like cigarettes than he does the champagne, but it’s there. Your tongue makes the first exploration and sticky sweet fruit is unearthed from below smoke and ash. 
One of his hands slides down, a brief pass over your thigh, and you wonder where it’s going, you realize in short order when the seat you are both on moves back, giving you more space, making it, so you aren’t quite as locked up against the steering wheel. Heat is sparking inside, your hand moves from his face, slipping to rest on his neck, your other hand comes up to his shoulder, fingers grip the jacket he has on and the want becomes too much. You grind down on him. 
The shifting and adjusting allows you to feel how hard he was growing, a harsher inhale, and you begin to scramble, you want more contact, you move to be fully straddling him, no more twisting partially around like you currently were. You are seated just right soon enough, ass firmly planted, and you think fleetingly God he had some solid thighs, strong, you felt very well-supported. 
The making out was only paused briefly while you changed position, you’d gotten right back into it, your mouth slotting back against his with a hum that sounded like his name. You grind again and this time he returns it, rutting up into you, and the friction makes you actually moan this time. The taste, the feeling, and two minutes more of making out is all it takes for you to break, pulling back once his touch had gotten bolder, one having slid up your body, palming one of your tits through your work shirt easily with how large his hands were. You arch into him, breaking the kiss you beg, “Fuck, Rusty, more.”
You are close enough now that you can see his smile as opposed to just hear it, his hand moves and starts to go under your shirt, rough fingers on bare skin and steadily moving up, brushing the edge of your bra. Not quite a laugh but more than an amused releasing of air, he asks, “More?” 
A frantic nod, another squirm of your hips and he asks, “How much more? C’mon, tell me.”
He wants you to say it and you want it desperately enough that it’s no issue, far from it, if anything him making you say it, makes you want it more, makes you feel hotter. “Fuck me?”
“I like your directness.” Thank God for that. “Just have a lil more patience with me, alright?” 
When he asks in that tone, you think you’d do just about anything. A small nod and he needs to get his fill of you just a hair more. Hands explore, groping, feeling, it teases both of you, trying to get a sense of your body before the clothes come off, mind running over just how you’ll feel with nothing in the way. You remain good, you let him feel, minimal squirming on your part, even when he starts kissing your neck as the hand that isn’t up your shirt kneads your ass. Only when you feel your underwear literally plastered to you and your cunt ache incessantly do you whine his name again. 
He mercifully acquiesces, “Okay, okay, I hear you.” 
He eases up, a gesture of his head for you to move to the passenger's seat, “Gonna need you out of those clothes for what you really want.” 
You rush to comply. Once in the passenger's seat, sitting sideways, still facing him, looking at him, your hands catch the bottom hem of your shirt and as if anticipating that you intended to frantically tear it off, he stops you. One hand out and that sweet but firm tone, commanding, "Do it slowly." 
Your face feels hot, and you do as instructed, slowing your movements right down, pulling the shirt up, exposing your stomach and then your bra. Higher and higher until you have taken it off, tossing it in the direction of your bag and apron. Next you have your thumbs hooked in the waist of your pants, arching your hips you start to slide them down, you watch him, try to gauge his reaction, but it’s hard in the low lighting. He gives a nod to show he’s pleased so far, encouraging you verbally too, “Go on.” 
Shoes removed, pants follow, soon you are in just your underwear, and he speaks, a small gesture of your body, up and down, “S’ a good start but keep going.” 
You reach behind yourself, start to unhook your bra, and he is still talking, “Dying to see the rest.” 
You swear you can feel his eyes raking over every exposed inch of your skin. A small thought strikes, you follow it, slipping your arms out of the straps but holding the cups to your chest, an indulgent smile, a rise of your eyebrows, and he clicks his tongue, you play dumb and ask, “What?”
“You’re being a tease.” He states, and you ask in a tone of mock innocence, “Am I?” 
He says more seriously. “Drop it.” 
Unsure if he means your bra or the act, you chose to abandon both. You let the padded fabric slip out of your hands, a spread of your legs, you wonder if he can tell how wet you are from here. He moves too now, you weren’t expecting it, he falls to his knees in the space between your seat and his. Hands come to your hips and the sudden contact makes you jerk with a sharp inhale. His mouth catches yours in another kiss, you return it and moan, his mouth doesn’t stay on yours for long, trails down, jaw and neck, one on your shoulder and lower.
He is confident, he’s taking what he wants and you more than let him, you enjoy every rough scrape of his well worked hands, pass of his lips and nip of his teeth. His warm breath fanning over your chest is welcome, one hand has moved again, over your hip and now on your inner thigh, his thumb is close enough, and he runs it up you, swipes up your clothed slit. You sigh, eyes falling closed, relishing the contact, you are sure now he can feel how wet you are. He runs it back down and then up again, a press just right, and you moan between the friction on your clit and his mouth now on your chest. 
He found it so easily and judging by the smile you can feel against the curve of your breast, he is just as pleased. Rusty abandons the current pleasant task, fingers hooking in your underwear, “I got a feelin’ it’d be a fight to get these off you too, an’ I just can’t wait.” 
You couldn’t either, not anymore. 
Assisting with a move of your ass up, he gets them off, and now you are naked in his semi-truck. You want to jump him, but he is holding you down by your thighs, taking in the view of you unobstructed, totally bare. “Fucking gorgeous.”
A hand reaches out, catches his jacket, and you tug as you tell him, “I feel really exposed right now, you wanna lose some of these?”
“S’ only fair.” He agrees, he removes his jacket and asks, “Wanna give me a little show while I fix myself?” 
It is a request, but you take it like it’s an order. Hand between your spread legs, fingers trace up, catching ample wetness and spreading it up, circling sensitive tissue, making your thighs tense and a small moan fall from your lips. “There you go.”
The praise helps, you increase the pressure, and he hums in approval. Shirt is gone, belt is opened more and more revealed until he is in a similar state of undress. The view of him stripping all for you is insanely helpful. Pleasure is filling you easily and once he is ready he asks, “You mind if I-?”
“However you want me, please.” It leaves you needy and breathless. He steps in, he moves your hands away from yourself, and starts to adjust you to his liking. You like it, you think he can be rougher honestly, you are put on your knees, facing the passenger window, a hand on your back, adjusting you more, hips tilted up, and you feel him against you. The bump of his shaft between your thighs and over your clit is already very good. “Ready, yeah?”
A shaky nod, “Please Rusty-”
The one word and his name is all you are able to get out before he is lining up just right, you hold your breath in anticipation, he spits into his own hand, strokes himself, the extra lube as courtesy is appreciated. He slides in, and you let out a gasp, he doesn’t do it easily, taking you in one firm stroke, hand on your hips as his come to rest against your ass. He revels in you, the tight, soaked heat of you, his head tips back slightly as he soaks it before he starts to move. Pulling out halfway before driving forward, your hands scrabble for the window’s edge, you hold onto it like a lifeline as you gear up for what is already promising to be the ride of a lifetime. 
His thrusting is firm, just like him, steady and sure, a good and even pace. It leaves breathless, not caring about being overheard, not like anyone could in the empty parking lot. A heavy breath from him, “Fucks sake, you’re soaked.” 
You were moaning, incoherent pleas, along with his name, you were more than warmed up, each drag of his thick shaft in and out increasing the feeling. Fingers dig into the meat of your hips, he pulls you back as he drives forward, and you move too, rocking backwards to meet him. “Tight as Hell, can barely fit myself in here.” 
“Keep talking, never, ever stop talking.” Is the one thought in your brain as you moan dumbly. You aren’t thinking much, unable, but you are feeling. Rusty was so kind to you, was totally turning your birthday around, making you feel incredible, spoiling you, and you want to do the same. His hands are roaming and that won’t do, you need to stop him before you are fucked into total submission and wrecked. Another minute, just another minute, you tell yourself, eyes are half open and brain hazy. The glass is so fogged up you can’t see out of it, could write your name but if he asked you doubted your hands would be steady enough. Could you even spell your name right now with what he was doing to you? 
Finally, you reach back, hands on his hips, “Ru-Rusty, please, stop-”
“Something the matter?” He asked, holding deep, all the way to the hilt inside you. His hands smooth up your sides, fingers trace the curves of your chest before coming back down again, and you shiver, clenching on his shaft. 
“Gotta, fuck, do something. Pull out?” He listens, he does so, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”  
The pet names, fucking Christ the pet names, you are forcing yourself to move. It happens quickly. You turn, and then you push him, so his back is against the seat of the driver's side. He takes the hint, sits up on the seat sideways, and then you are the one on your knees. Between his spread thighs, you lean down, a hand locks around the base of his shaft and you lick. He lets out a surprised groan, soft and sounding too good. You start to blow him in earnest, careful of your gag reflex as you work. Your hand slips up and down his slick shaft as you suck on the head, his hand comes down to your head, fingers twist in your hair, “Like tasting yourself?” 
A nod as you moan against him, tongue swirls around the tip, and he watches enraptured, his hips buck slightly, and you gag almost immediately. He inhales through his teeth, “Sorry there.”
You brush him off, a gesture that it is fine, as you redouble your efforts. He seems to be enjoying it immensely, he is encouraging you further but soon asks, “Can you handle some more?”
For him, you want to try. You nod, and he guides you, does it slowly and easily, “Breathe through it-”
You do and the pace, his voice, it somehow works, and you’re able to take him deeper, “Pretty birthday girl. Takin’ it so well.” 
All you wanted to do was please him, you continue the work for only a minute more, however because then he tells you, “I want you back up here.”
You jump at the chance. Same as before, you climb up him and straddle him, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see where this is going. “You didn’t have to do that.” He comments, and you have your hands on his biceps, currently sucking a hickey into his neck and teasing your dripping hole with the tip of his dick, “I know. I wanted to.”  
“Could tell you were into it. You always wanna taste yourself like that?” 
“Not always but it is-” You move your hips down, start to slide him inside with a moan, once he is buried inside of you again you finish the thought, “-a favourite.” 
“Dirty girl.” He coos it like a compliment, and it hits you just like one, too. You start to ride, his hands on you help along with upward rocks of his hips. You bite and suck along his throat in between broken moans, the salt of his skin is a tad too addicting, as is the stretch of him inside and the way he brushes all the right spots inside of you at this angle. 
Apparently it still isn’t good enough for him. 
He tugs you closer, presses you so that way your clit is getting friction and ground with every thrust and bounce, your moans increase in volume in pitch along with the sensation. You had no clue this is how your day would shake out, if you did, maybe your shift would have been more bearable. 
His hands are on your back, holding you close, fucking up into you as you are slamming down, and on a particularly good hit you are gasping. For two people fucking for the first time and relative strangers, you’d found a frighteningly good rhythm. Your body is moving on instinct, just chasing what feels good but still, thoughtlessly tinged with doing your best to please him, thankful for the moment that what seems to be getting him off is feeling incredible for you. It isn’t quite enough, though, and he seems to pick up on that. 
“Lean back.” His voice snaps you out of your pleasure induced stupor, and you nod, separating yourself from him, the one point of contact still remaining your ass on his thighs and him stuffed deep inside. He directs you further, his hands help, and you find yourself with one hand on his knee, the other braced on the roof of the truck, feet on the seat on either side of him and with a confident nod you start moving again. 
It’s good, you are able to hit spots inside yourself that are even deeper, using all your leg muscles as well as your hands it becomes more of a full body effort, minute adjustments can be made so too much strain is never on one part of your sweat slick frame. Soon as you are just right in the groove of it, he surprises you, why he wanted the change in position becomes all too clear. His hand is between your bodies and his thumb presses down, swirling over your clit, and it makes your pace falter, “Oh my fucking God-”
“Don’t stop now.” The way he says it makes a shiver run up your spine and again makes you clench down on him. He says it in the dominant tone of voice, but it’s light, that smug fucking half grin on his face, unable to tear his eyes away from your body. You shake your head, choking out, “Wo-won’t stop.” 
“No, course you won’t, you’re so good at listening.” The praise washes over you with another sharp jolt of ecstasy. His hand that wasn’t working your nerves into a frenzy was on your thigh, sliding up, gripping your hip, “This workin’ for you?”
Fuck, was it ever. You nod frantically, focusing on breathing and not stopping riding him, but in short order, your movements were getting increasingly sloppy. It was like he didn’t have to ask, didn’t rush it, just let you work it out and helped carry you along. You were getting dangerously close, the edge creeping up at a blinding pace, everything you’d experienced so far this night was piling up and threatening to make you break apart at the seams. There were no real words, just hurried breathing and pitched moans, head back, nails digging into the fabric of the truck cab’s roof, the sound of skin on skin and his encouragement. 
A soft call of your name, his hips moving up, grinding into you as his hand works and him asking in a mind meltingly hot tone, “I wanna see it, give it to me.”
And something about that, whether it is what he said or how he said it, causes the reaction inside to finally make it happen, like it clicks into place just right, and you go from a weak and barely audible strained whisper of, “I’m almost there!” To holy fucking shit, I’m, “-cumming!” 
Riding as much became not an option, legs almost giving out, but he takes over, grip on your hip is bruising, hip strength impressive, and he drives up into you over and over. Your hand isn’t able to stay on the roof, caught midair, body tense as your climax rockets through your body, you think your hand on his knee might be drawing blood with your nails, but you can’t stop it nor can you care. 
You jerk as it peaks, and he slips out, his fingers don’t stop until you are crying out and pushing him away, still trembling through the aftershocks. Your eyes were closed, you were panting and not even remotely down from his high when you feel the hot splatter on your tits and stomach with your name staining his tongue. Peaking back open, you see him, hand around himself, and he’d cum all over your torso. The pretty pearly white is sliding down, and his own breathing is very laboured. Your hand trails down, still shaky, skating through the mess he left, and then you're bringing those same fingers back up to taste him. 
Your body relaxes against him, you get into a more comfortable position, and after you stop shuddering so much you are telling him, “That was pretty fucking great.”
“Oh, are you all done?” He asked as he looks up at you, hands are resting lazily on your thighs, tracing patterns absentmindedly. “I mean I thought we were but are we not?”
“We don’t gotta be. I’m in no rush.” The thought of that is extremely pleasant. 
“Another drink till you’re ready to go again, old man?” You asked with a smile, and he laughs as he reaches over to where the bottle was left on the floor of his side of the truck. Thankfully it hadn’t been knocked over, “You get that one and only cuz you were so good.” 
“Only one old man joke or one joke overall? Because I was gonna make one hoping that you aren’t passingly along tetanus to me Rusty, but if you’re planning to be a buzzkill-” He shuts you up with a hand on the back of your neck and a kiss that you end up humming into. Yeah, you think this has been a pretty solid birthday. 
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Pink Roses [Fake Dating Trope]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Fake Dating situation 1. Two characters pretend to date for some purpose such as social gain, only for real feelings to get involved at some point "Bucky asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend to keep his elderly sister happy. You’re just platonic friends/coworkers, what could possibly go wrong?"
Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst into a happy ending. Reader uses fem pronouns and is referred to as ‘girlfriend’. No use of y/n. Friends to lovers. Reader spends Christmas and Easter with Bucky but doesn’t necessarily celebrate them herself, but they are mentioned.
WC: 7,000 baby!!!! Kicking off the Trope De Sept event strong!
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“Thank you for the flowers by the way, they are beautiful.” Rebecca sighed, playing with the pink petals of the roses in front of her
“Of course Rebecca,” you responded. “Bucky picked them.”
“Oh my, he has good taste. He gets you flowers right?”
“Oh…” her question caught you off guard.
Bucky had merely introduced you by name when you arrived with him to visit his sister for Christmas. You assumed he had warned her he was bringing a coworker, but she seemed to not have gotten the memo and thought your relationship with her brother was something else.
“All the time, Becca. Mom raised me right.” he said, giving you a playful wink as he did
It was a lie, but Rebecca didn’t catch on.
“See I knew my brother was a gentleman. Oh he is so lucky to have you in his life.”
You shot Bucky a curious look and he merely shrugged in response.
The reason you were there with him at all began a few days before, right before Christmas.
“Hey Bucky, just heading out. See you in the New Year!” you said, tying your scarf tightly around your neck, ready to leave the Avengers compound for the two week break from work.
“Hey yeah! Have a good winter break! You got any big plans?” he asked
“No. Keeping it quiet this year.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah I just…I got so sick of my family asking me the same thing and all my cousins flaunting engagement rings, and wedding plans, and ultrasounds, that I just don’t even bother going home for holidays anymore.”
“Oh yeah, I get it. You should meet my sister. I’m going to see her on Christmas and all she does is worry about me. She’s convinced I’m unhappy because I’m single. She literally tries to set me up with every new nurse they hire at her nursing home and I just know most of the Christmas dinner conversation is going to be asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“Oh gosh that sounds fun.” you said with a chuckle
“Hey if you don’t have any big Christmas plans, would you want to come with me? My sister loves company and we can even get takeout afterwards. You know, just so you don’t have to spend Christmas alone?”
“Bucky, that’s very sweet of you. I’d love to. Your sister sounds amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”
“Great. Yeah Rebecca’s a fun time. She’s 98 and still smart as a whip. You’ll love her!”
“Okay sounds like a plan.”
The Crown Heights Senior Living Center knew how to throw a Christmas party, with Rebecca Barnes leading the charge on the caroling group and Bucky helping her coordinate the gift exchange.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a fun time, with a group of octogenarians no less.
“Wow Rebecca! How did Bucky keep a pet racoon in the attic for a whole week without your mother noticing?”
“Well that old Brownstone we lived in was solid. They don’t build them like that anymore. The walls were so thick it took her a while to figure out where the scratching noises were coming from.”
“Yeah well she also got suspicious when I swiped an extra serving of her meatloaf and ran upstairs with it right after dinner.” Bucky chimed in
“Speaking of, Becs they’ll be serving your dinner soon and we’re getting hungry too.” Bucky said, standing and giving his sister a kiss on the forehead
“Darling, it was lovely to meet you.” Rebecca said to you, then turned to her brother “James, please bring your girlfriend around more often, she’s a treat.”
You and Bucky smiled at her and departed the room, making your way down the tinsel decorated hall.
“Awe, she thinks I’m your girlfriend!” you teasingly commented, playfully smacking his arm
“Yeah well, literally every time I visit, she’s trying to set me up with a new nurse they’ve hired and she’s always asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
“Now when I come back to visit next week, she’s gonna ask about you and I’m gonna have to break her heart and tell her I’m still alone and destitute. I…” Bucky trailed off
“What?”
“It’s a dumb idea.”
“What is?”
“What if we… look this might be crazy but. Would you want to, you know, pretend to be my girlfriend? Just come with me to the nursing home every once in a while on like holidays and things? Just to keep my sister happy. I mean she’s 98 years old, there’s not a lot left going on in her life and I’ve literally never seen her more excited.”
“Okay. This is either going to go really well or really poorly. Either way I wanna see it. So yeah. Let’s do it.”
You saw Bucky at work nearly everyday in the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk like all coworkers do. At the beginning of February, he brought up his sister again, mentioning that she asked about you and asking if you’d like to join him to visit her again on Valentine's Day. You agreed.
Bucky gave your front door three knocks and you swung it open to greet him, still fiddling with the clasp on your necklace as you got ready.
“Hey, I’ll be ready in a few.” you said as he entered your apartment, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the bouquet he held in his metal arm.
Pink roses, just like the one’s he’d brought Rebecca at Christmas.
“Oh these are for you.” he said, noticing your gaze traveling to them
“For me? But…”
“Don’t worry I have another bouquet for Becca.” he said, pulling an identical bouquet from behind his back “But at Christmas I told her I got you flowers all the time, so I figured I actually should, you know, not be a liar.”
“Not be a… Bucky, we are quite literally about to go see her and lie to her a bunch! You know, about us.” you gestured between the two of you
Bucky laughed and shook his head.
“Fair, but why lie about one more thing? And besides, I think I owe you more than just a thank you for doing all this.”
“Fair.” you said, mimicking his tone and taking the bouquet from him
As you filled a glass vase in the sink and placed the roses in it, Bucky stepped behind you, grabbing the necklace from where you had placed it on the counter and wordlessly fastened it around your neck.
A chill ran down your spine as his fingers fiddled with the clasp, finally connecting it with the hook and pressing his palm against the back of your neck to lay it flat.
“Now I know you aren’t just spending such a romantic holiday just visiting an old lady. What are your plans? James, how are you romancing your lady today?”
You and Bucky looked at each other nervously. You hadn’t really discussed backstory or any other thing she might want to know about your relationship.
“I’ll tell you later Rebecca, don’t want to ruin any surprises!” Bucky finally spoke up, and you made a point to reach for his right hand, intertwining your fingers with his like any couple might and put on an excited look on your face for the non-existent Valentines plans. His palm was warm as he rubbed his thumb in delicate circles around your hand.
“Oh good! Well don’t let me keep you kids too long!” she exclaimed, shooing you out the door of her room
“Okay we really need to discuss more backstory and stuff before we come here. She’s asking too many questions.” he commented as you walked down the hall
“Bucky, maybe this is a bad idea. Your sister is so sweet and I feel bad lying to her like this.”
“Hey, look, she's happy because she thinks I’m happy. We can call this off if you want, but I really think it’d break her heart if I tell her we broke up. Please, just a few more visits? Just so she doesn’t think I’m totally alone.”
“But you are.”
Bucky shot you a look that you’d only ever seen when Sam got on his nerves.
You gnawed at your bottom lip and gave it some thought, Bucky’s blue eyes staring you down. “Okay. But we need to come up with more of a back story. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee and set some ground rules?”
“It’s a date.”
Your eyes went wide at the word date.
“Sorry. It’s a ‘platonic coworkers pretending to date’ not-date.” he said with a grin
“Fine, but you’re buying.”
“It’s Valentine's Day, it'd be absolutely ungentlemanly of me to not.”
The coffee shop around the corner was decorated for the occasion, with heart-shaped foil garland cascading from the ceiling and a cupid chalk drawing taking up a large portion of the menu board.
The barista topped your hot chocolate’s whipped cream with red and pink sprinkles and Bucky chuckled at the foam heart she drew into the top of his latte.
Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples, all looking gooey-eyed at each other and whispering sweet nothings across the small marble tables.
You were so busy taking in all the displays of love that Bucky had to clear his throat to get your attention, arms stretched out behind you reaching for your coat.
“Oh gosh sorry.” you said, shrugging out of it as he placed it on the hook on the wall and then pulled the wooden chair out for you to sit.
“Shit, your sister is right, you are a good boyfriend.” you said
Bucky rolled his eyes with a smirk and took his seat across from you.
“Okay.” you said, placing your palms on the table in front of you “ground rules.”
“Right, if you want to add a third to the bedroom, it has to be Sam. We made a pact a while back, it’s a long story but sorry it’s the only way...”
“Bucky!”
“Shit doll, sorry! I was kidding! I mean kind of, Sam and I did sort of agree…”
“Bucky!” you cut him off “Look if you don’t want to take this seriously, then fine I can just go and call it here. This is for you and your sister after all.”
“No, dammit I’m sorry, you’re right. Okay, go ahead.” Bucky replied
“Well we need to establish a backstory. And know a little more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious.”
“Okay. You go first. Ask anything you want to know about me.”
“Okay um. What’s your favorite color?”
“Really? You think what’s gonna make us not believable is whether or not you know my favorite color?” he looked at you in disbelief
“I don’t know! What else do couples know about each other?”
“Not sure. I haven’t dated regularly since 1943. It’s blue, by the way. What’s yours?” He responded
“Purple. Is that your usual coffee order?”
“In the winter, yes. In summer, I go for iced coffee.”
“Okay. Um. I guess it might be more important to have some facts about us. As a couple.”
“Right. Like what?”
“Well like where was our first kiss? Or our first date?” you asked
“In Central Park under the Cherry Blossoms. I’m romantic like that.”
“Bucky you told her we just started dating in the fall…”
“Fine, in Central Park under the orange leaves.”
“Who said I love you first?”
“You, obviously” he replied
That made you roll your eyes “Why is it obviously me?”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy to be open with his feelings?”
“No, you're the quietest on the team. It took four months of me working with the Avengers for you to return my good morning greeting everyday with even a nod of acknowledgement.”
Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to say “see I’m right”
“Fine. What’s the most romantic thing you've ever done for me?”
“Decorated your Christmas tree while you were at work.”
“I didn’t have a Christmas tree.”
“Well since all of this is pretend, let’s pretend you did.”
“Fine. While we’re on the subject, what did we get each other for the holidays?”
“I got you that necklace.” he nodded in your direction to the string of delicate pearls he helped you put on earlier. In reality, it’d been a gift you got yourself for your most recent birthday, but you were fine with the alternate story.
“Fine. I guess I got you a Frank Sinatra album for your record player.”
“How’d you know I have a record player?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Is it because I’m old?”
“I mean, yeah maybe…”
He sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly unamused.
“Since I know she’s going to ask next time you see her, what did you do to woo me on Valentine’s Day?” you asked
“Took you to a coffee shop and got you pink roses.” he gestured at the cafe around you, a proud smile on his face
“You know what, it’s actually the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you said with a grin
“See, I am good at this boyfriend thing. What else should we know?”
“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” you asked
“Trick question, neither. I sleep on the floor because of my nightmares.”
“Bucky thats…” you trailed off
“Hey, it's something my girlfriend would know.” Bucky said so casually, as if he had not opened up to you and revealed something incredibly sad and personal about himself.
“Right. Um… what else do you and Rebecca talk about? That way you can think of things to weave into conversation about us that make us seem real.”
“Honestly, we talk a lot about our childhood. She helps me remember a lot of things I’ve forgot thanks to the, ya know” he pointed to his head
You nodded in understanding.
“Anyway, like last week she told me a story I’d totally forgotten about the time Steve and I snuck into the movies and when we got caught, we pretended we didn’t speak English to avoid getting in trouble.”
You listened as Bucky shared more stories about his life in the 30s and 40s, eventually laughing so much and talking so long, the cafe employees had to ask you to leave so they could close up for the evening.
He rode the subway with you to your stop and even walked you to your door as if he were really your Valentine’s date. You felt much better about seeing Rebecca again, confident now that you and Bucky could convincably appear as a real couple after today.
By the time Easter rolled around, you’d established a solid back story and even hung out with Bucky a few times outside of your work relationship to get to know each other better. You always loved every visit with his sister and hanging out with him felt easy.
You were, however, very nervous when Mother’s Day came. You’d finally be meeting Rebecca’s children and grandchildren, all of whom loved their Uncle Bucky, but loved Rebecca even more.
“You seem nervous.” Bucky commented
You had been silent but fidgety the whole subway ride from your apartment to the nursing home. Bucky, of course, picked you up at your front door every time you met, even though it was out of his way from his place to the nursing home.
“I am.” you replied
“Why? Becs loves you. She’s excited to see you again.”
“Yes but I’m meeting everyone else and it’s making me anxious.”
“Why?”
“Because they love you and your sister a lot. I want them to like me”
“I like you so they'll like you.”
“Bucky, you’re only pretending to like me! I love your sister, but it feels a lot easier to trick one old lady than to trick a bunch of people at once into believing we’re real!”
“Okay. First, I do like you. I promise, that part is not pretend.” You know he just meant it platonically, but it still made you blush.
“Secondly,” he continued “Rebecca is the sharpest person I know, so if she’s convinced, then they will be too.”
“I’m still worried they’re gonna find out and kill me.”
“Hey” he reassured “They won’t find out and they won’t kill you and even if they try, like they’re gonna get past me.” he wiggled his metal fingers in your face.
“She hasn’t said anything right? Like she isn’t getting suspicious?”
“Doll, take a chill pill. Even if she figures it out, it’s on me not you. I’m her brother, remember?”
“I know but Bucky she’s been so sweet and nice to me and I adore her and I don’t want to let her down!”
“You won’t, now just relax.”
Rebecca’s son, Scott, had prepared a fabulous meal and as you all sat around a table in the community room of the nursing home eating, her daughter Kim gave a beautiful speech about how Rebecca taught her to be a great mom and how loved she was by the family.
Tears sprung to your eyes at just how loved and revered this woman was and how lucky you felt to know her, even if it was under the false pretense of being her brother’s girlfriend.
Bucky noticed you getting emotional and placed an arm around your back, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his hand in comfort as Kim continued to speak. You shot him a look of thanks and winked at him as you saw tears welling behind his eyes as well.
After dinner had been cleared and dessert had been served, you were locked in a pleasant conversation with Bucky’s grandniece Jenny.
“I don’t know, maybe I should change my major…”
“Well, you’re young. Lots of people take years to figure it out.” you replied
“Uh oh.” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”
Bucky was standing in the hall, deep in conversation with one of the nurses, who was throwing her head back in fits of laughter at whatever he was saying to her, and playfully touching his arm.
“Well, you know Bucky, he’s just… friendly.” you shrugged it off, trying to not let the interaction bother you
Jenny gave you a quizzical look, knowing that was a bold-faced lie and Bucky was the most surly and quiet person either of you had ever met. Except around you and Rebecca, of course.
“So tell me more about your thesis,” you said, directing the conversation back and hoping to distract yourself from whatever it was Bucky was doing
The subway ride back to your apartment was mostly silent, which wasn’t abnormal for him, except all you could think about was the way that nurse was with him, and more importantly, how he was with her. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how he had leaned into her touch everytime she placed a hand on his arm, how they had talked nearly the whole afternoon.
“So David told me he and Shelby are expecting.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence
“David and …? Oh yeah, Scott’s oldest.” you said, still mentally trying to keep all of Bucky’s nieces, nephews, and their kids straight in your mind, having just met all of them in one go today.
“Yeah. Which means Rebecca is going to be a great-grandmother.” he continued
“Oh my gosh that’s right! That’s so great! Did they tell her?”
“Yeah. She was pretty excited. Then of course, she asked me when you and I are going to start…” he said
“Oh yeah? What did you say to her?”
“Told her we’d get to it eventually. That we were still enjoying being young and in love.”
“Bucky, you’re 106…”
A smile formed across his face and he shook his head.
“You know what I meant!”
“Well we’ll never fictitiously get around to it if you for-real flirt with nurses.” you snidely commented
“Ohhh not my pretend girlfriend pretending to be jealous!” he joked back
“I’m not jealous, Bucky, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. But I don’t blame you, she was cute.”
“Yeah she was.”
“Okay serious question, what if one of us gets into a real relationship?” you asked
“Why are you planning to?”
“No, I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t exactly have any great prospects right now.”
“I don’t either.”
“Um, that nurse was absolutely a prospect.” you argued back
“Doll, will you drop it with the nurse already?”
“No. Look, if you want to be for-real happy and quit lying to your sister, I think you should ask the nurse out. This has been fun, but don’t let us pretending to date hold you back from an actual relationship.”
Bucky sighed and hung his head.
“Okay. When I visit Rebecca this week, I will ask the nurse out. Just to get you off my back about it.” he conceded
“Well just be sure to add in the fact that you have prospects lined up when you tell your sister we broke up, just to soften the blow.” you joked
“Wow, you make it sound like I have women out the door, just waiting in line for me.” Bucky joked
You could if you wanted, you’re a fucking catch, is what you wanted to say, but instead just chose to lightly chuckle at Bucky’s joke.
“I think I will wait and see if the nurse says yes and if she does, see how the date goes before breaking it to my sister. And if it goes bad, at least I still have you.”
“Wow, make a girl feel more special to be your backup plan, why don’t you?” you joked
“You know what I mean! Wait, you will still keep this up for me if the nurse says no right?”
You sighed.
“Yes. I’ve actually really been having fun spending time with your sister.”
And you, you wanted to add, but again, didn't.
“But I do want you to be happy, so I will sacrifice hanging out with the coolest 98 year old I’ve ever met if it means you get a for-real girlfriend and stop being a grumpy, lonely old man.”
“Thanks doll, you’re the best.”
Things at work got hectic that week and you didn’t see Bucky until midway through the next week.
You were sitting at your computer, combing some case files when Bucky snuck up behind you.
“So things got complicated…”
“Jesus, Bucky, don’t scare me like that!” you said, practically jumping out of your seat when he spoke
“Sorry!”
“Wait, complicated how?”
“Well I asked the nurse out. And she said yes. And apparently it was the hot topic in the nursing home all weekend. And my sister asked why I was two-timing you. So I had to tell her we broke up.”
Your heart sank at the thought of not hanging out with Bucky and Rebecca anymore.
“Okay. Well, we knew that might have to happen. And the nurse?”
“Her name is Maddie, by the way. And we went out last night.”
“And?”
“It went well. She was nice and it was fun and we’re going to go out again this weekend.”
“Bucky, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” you replied, trying to truly mean it and push your own feelings towards the situation aside.
But your mind just raced with worry about how well it actually went. Did he mean it went well like it was an agreeable evening and they talked a few hours and went their separate ways? Or did he mean it went well like she got to find out if his lips were as soft as they actually look? It went well like they hooked up and had steamy sex and she got to feel how his toned muscles felt under her hands while he brought her to ecstasy the way you’d always imagined and … no. You needed to stop. It was a bad idea to think about him that way. Especially since he now belonged to someone else, and never really belonged to you in the first place.
“Doll, I really can’t thank you enough.” Bucky spoke and broke you out of your spiraling thoughts “Rebecca had so much fun with you and you know… I think pretending to date you might have actually given me the confidence to ask Maddie out. Don’t know if I thought I could be a good real boyfriend without being a good fake one first.”
You laughed and shook your head.
“Well I’m happy to have helped. And by the way, yeah you were a phenomenal fake boyfriend. Better than most of the real ones I’ve had.”
You tried not to let the tears come to your eyes that you could feel brimming to the surface. You were just sad to say goodbye to Rebecca, that’s all. She was so special and spending time with her was a gift. It helped that Bucky was also so charming and funny, but it was absolutely just about Rebecca. Afterall, you’d still get to see Bucky at work. You wouldn’t really talk as in-depth as when you were with his sister and hanging out in service of keeping up the lie, but it would be fine.
However, much to your disappointment, it seemed like after that conversation, Bucky avoided you like you two had actually been a couple and actually broken up. He wouldn’t look you in the eye during mission briefings, wouldn’t say more than two words to you and they were always related to work, and if he ever found himself alone in a room with you, he quickly found an excuse to leave.
It had been about two months since you had “broken up” and you had given up hope of even having any sort of friendship with Bucky. But the truth was, you missed him. You missed making fun of him when he made a reference so outdated, historians wouldn’t even get it. You missed the way his smile rose more on his right side when you’d crack a joke. You missed when he’d sing along to one of Rebecca’s records and try to dance with both you and her at the same time, inevitably spinning you into each other and ending in the three of you in a fit of giggles.
You tried not to think of it though, threw yourself into work and tried to forget. But you couldn’t. Everything reminded you of him.
And you tried not to think about how much you missed him as you watched him walk onto the ramp of a quinjet, prepping to take off for a ten day mission to take down a Hydra base in Latvia.
Six days later, you were in your apartment, making your evening cup of tea when your phone rang.
You picked it up and put it down three times before finally processing that it was Bucky’s name popping up on the screen. With the time zone difference, it had to at least be three in the morning where he was.
“Bucky?” you finally answered “Is everything okay?”
“No. Doll, it’s not.”
“What happened? Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Did something go wrong?” you panicked, knowing of all the hundreds of people the Avengers employed, you were not the person to call if something went wrong with the mission.
“No, it’s Rebecca. She um…” Bucky sounded on the verge of crying and your heart broke in an instant “Kim called and Rebecca is in the hospital. I didn’t get all the details, but it’s not good.”
“Bucky, I’m so sorry.”
“Listen, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but can you please… Can I ask you to go for me? Go see her? Sam and I are trying to wrap up as quick as we can, but I just can’t bear the thought of not being there with her and she loved you so much and I know you being there would really mean a lot to both of us.”
You had never heard Bucky ramble like that before. His voice was shaky and unsure and it broke your heart.
“Okay. Of course I can go.” you replied without hesitation. You loved Rebecca too, of course you wanted to be with her.
“Thank you. So much. Really. I’ll text you the room number and the hospital. I’ll let Kim and Scott know you’re coming too.”
“Okay.”
“And um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how it’s been lately.”
“Bucky, It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. But um, we can talk more when I get back.”
“Okay. I’ll go see her now, just text me.”
You were pulling on your shoes already when Bucky’s text came through. You were out the door and to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.
Kim greeted you with a big hug when you arrived.
“Oh, she’ll be so excited to see you!” Kim said, leading you down the hall of the hospital towards Rebecca’s room “You know, she still talks about you all the time even though you two broke up a while ago.”
You tried to bite back a smile, not wanting to feel happy in such a grim situation. But knowing at least Rebecca missed your presence and made sure Bucky didn’t forget you lightened your mood just a little.
Any hint of a grin was knocked off your face as soon as you stepped in the room. Rebecca was looking quite different from when you last saw her. Usually so healthy and spry for her age, she looked frail in the thin hospital gown, laying limply in the bed in the middle of the sterile room. Her gray curls were not in their usual coiff, but unkempt and wild. Her eyes looked sallow and dull. But her beautiful smile still came through when she saw you walk into the room.
“Oh my dear!” she reached out a shaky hand toward you. “It is so good to see you!”
Her hand wrapped around yours and she patted it a few times.
“How have you been? Oh, I’ve missed you! You know I was just saying to James the other day, it was a shame he let such a gem like you go.”
“Rebecca, that’s very kind, but how are you? Are you resting? Are you feeling better?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was fine, but the nurses at the home, they called an ambulance and made me come here!”
“Mom, you passed out and your heartbeat was at 22 bpms!” Kim interjected
Rebecca waved her hand, then turned back to you.
“Where is James? Did you come with him?” she asked
“No. He’s away on a mission, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. He asked me to come see you until he could get here.”
“Oh that’s so kind of you. You know, he really loved you. I could see it every time he looked at you and every time I’d ask about you he’d talk and talk. I told him to hold on to you, but, well my brother never wants to listen to me!”
“Mom!” Kim interrupted again and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Even in this state, Rebecca’s personality was still shining through.
You caught up a little more, filling Rebecca and Kim in on your life since you last saw them.
Finally, Rebecca’s eyes kept closing mid-sentence and you and Kim left her to get more rest.
As you and Kim walked down the hall of the hospital together, she filled you in more on Rebecca’s health and explained that Scott and Jenny were also taking shifts visiting, currently hanging out in the waiting room down the hall.
“Sweetie, it’s getting late, let me give you some money so you can get a cab home.”
“No, Kim, I’ll stay here with you guys tonight.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Please? Just until Bucky calls again. Maybe by morning we’ll have a better idea of when he’ll be back.”
Kim nodded and gave your arm a light squeeze in thanks.
The waiting room was small and featured dated furniture and peeling wallpaper set under the glow of harsh fluorescent lights. Scott was asleep, curled in an uncomfortable position in a chair in the corner. Jenny flashed you a tired smile as you entered. You sat on one of the worn couches and laid your head back, attempting to drift off into sleep.
The night was rather restless, dozing in and out, but never really getting pulled into sleep fully. Between the buzz of hospital employees rushing about, the cramped sleeping arrangement, and the worry chewing in the pit of your stomach about both Rebecca and Bucky, it was far too difficult to get solid rest.
Would Rebecca be okay? How would Bucky act towards you when he got back? Would things go back to being friendly between you as a thanks for being there for his family or would he simply continue to ignore you and act as though this also didn’t happen?
You must have finally gotten to sleep, because you were pulled out of slumber by a metal hand squeezing yours and a soft calling of your name by a familiar voice.
Your eyes shot open to find Bucky, crouched down in front of you, face meeting yours as he gently woke you. Despite the exhaustion painted on his face, he was a radiant light in the otherwise dim environment.
“Bucky!” you sat upright and pulled him into a tight hug
“Hey Doll.” he said, squeezing you so tightly you thought you’d burst like a can of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.
“How did the mission go? When did you get back? Have you been in to see your sister yet?” you asked
Bucky shook his head.
“We can talk about the mission later. Thank you so much for being here.”
“How is Rebecca?” you asked
“I… um. I don’t know. I just got here and came to see you guys first.” he nodded toward the sleeping forms around you.
“You should go see her. Hopefully she got plenty of rest over night.”
Bucky shook his head some more.
“I don’t know if I can… she’s the last thing I have of my old life. I don’t know if I can bear to see her like that.”
“Bucky, she needs you. She wants to see you, she asked where you were last night.”
Bucky sighed, wetness welling in his worn blue eyes.
“I’ll go with you.” you volunteered
“Doll, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask another thing of you.”
“Please, Bucky, I want to be there for you. And for her.”
He nodded and took your hand in his flesh one, helping you off the couch and not letting go as you walked down the hall together towards Rebecca's room.
She was sitting upright in bed and her face lit up at the sight of you and her brother, nearly spilling the applesauce the nurses brought her for breakfast into her lap.
Bucky finally let go of your hand, giving his sister a hug much more gentle than the one he gave you.
“Oh James, you know you didn’t have to rush away from work just to come see me!”
“Becca, yes I did!” he smiled
“Well, your girlfriend had things covered here.” she gestured towards you
“Oh, Becs no, we’re not back together.” Bucky explained
“Oh? But why not?” Rebecca asked
“It's not important right now. What’s important right now is getting you healthy.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head.
“James, it is important right now. I’ve lived a lot of years and I’ve learned the most important thing in life is holding the ones you love close to you. I learned that when my big brother ‘died’ at war. I learned that when my children grew up too fast and moved away. I learned that with every grandchild born and held in my arms. And I learned that when you came back into my life after so many years.”
“Rebecca…” Bucky spoke, but she held up her hand to cut him off.
“I don’t know why you two broke up or what happened. But what I do know is how much the two of you clearly love each other. Look, James, I’m old. I know I don’t have much time left. But you, you have a life to live still and running away from the good things is not what your baby sister wants for you.”
“Rebecca, this is a conversation for her and I and another time.” Bucky argued
“You know for being my older brother, you sure aren’t wiser than me.”
“Wow, even sick in the hospital, still trying the younger sibling thing.” Bucky joked back
A knock at the door took the three of you from the conversation as a cheery nurse stepped inside the room.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to run a few tests the doctor ordered. It’ll only take a little while.” he explained.
Bucky sighed and gave his sister a kiss on her temple, then gestured for you to step out with him.
Once in the hall he finally broke down completely, the stress of the past few days catching up to him.
You cradled his head in your arms as he sobbed, knowing the longer the two of you stayed like this, the longer you could put off having a conversation.
“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, finally calm enough to stand and wipe the tears from his eyes
You nodded and took his hand again, leading him out to the front of the hospital into the sunshine.
A few open benches along the sidewalk provided a place for the two of you to sit. Still, it took a few minutes for Bucky to finally speak up.
“I’m sorry I let it get like this between us.” Bucky mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“Bucky, please. We don’t have to do this right now. You should be worrying about your sister, not me.”
“No, Doll, Rebecca’s right.”
“Yeah?”
“About everything.” he nodded his head “About life. About us. But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”
You giggled.
“I wanted it to be real. Not at first, but after a while. When she tells you a story about us as kids and you smile at me the way you do. Or when your eyes light up when I make up a lie about the latest romantic thing I did. I wanted it all to be real. And I still do.”
“I wanted it to be real too.” you confessed “But if you wanted that, then why did you not just ask me out for real instead of Maddie?”
“Because, like Rebecca said, I was running away from the good things. I was scared that after everything I’ve been through, no one would stick around knowing all of that about me. But then you did, and it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading it all wrong. Asked Maddie out as an excuse to push you away. I thought maybe avoiding you would make me get over it, but it didn’t, it just made me miss you.”
“And Maddie?”
“We went on a few dates and it was fun, but of course, I kept her at a distance. Didn’t want to let her in like I did with you. So she broke it off with me after a while.”
You chuckled and shook your head.
“You know, the leaves in Central Park aren’t quite orange yet, but it’s still a nice time of year for a first date there.”
“Yeah. It is. For real this time?”
“For real this time.” you agreed “But let’s worry about getting Rebecca healthy first.”
“I bet if we go up and tell her we’re back together, she’ll run out of that room and steal a cab just to make sure we make it to Central Park today.” he joked
You softly pressed your lips against his, feeling him melt into your kiss as the tension between the two of you these last few months finally evaporated.
When you finally pulled apart, you realized now you were the one crying, relieved that things between the two of you worked out.
Rebecca was released from the hospital a few days later, new medication bringing her health back into balance and making her as vivacious as ever. She was even well enough to join you and Bucky in Central Park for your 8th date, though she didn’t know that, as you and Bucky decided it was best not to tell her about the lie even now. And of course, when Bucky and Rebecca stepped out of the cab on 5th Avenue, he held two bouquets of pink roses in his hands.
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addthespaghetti · 10 months
Text
She’s Mine
i’m not even going to lie, i listened to so much pierce the veil while writing this. so the ending is based of off a match into water because i can.
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warnings: drinking, sexual reference, angst, fluff, and violence
1800+ words
You love your job. You do. Saving people, working together closely with people you consider family, and most of all, it led you to meet the love of your life, Emily Prentiss.
When you met Emily, it was like your life finally made sense. You worked hard to get into the BAU, ignoring your social life and, most importantly, your love life. You felt like you had no other purpose than getting into the BAU.
You thought you would feel fulfilled, finally getting the job of your dreams. Once you got that call that you got the job, you had the feeling of etterath. You got the job you gave up your entire life for, but now you have no one, no friends, no family, and no one to celebrate your accomplishment with.
The day you started at the BAU, you were excited for the first time in years, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness.
You felt it the entire time it took you to get ready, aware of it as you drove to the FBI building in Quantico and on the elevator ride up to the BAU.
While opening the big glass doors to enter the bullpen, you heard a woman laugh, a laugh you were immediately captivated by. You looked to find a source of that laughter, and that's when you saw her sitting at her desk, laughing at something someone said. Usually, you would be interested in what she was laughing about, but you couldn't focus on anything but her beautiful smile and gorgeous dark brown hair.
After that day, your crush on Emily grew, but you could never figure out if she had feelings for you back.
Until one girls' night, Penelope wanted to go to a bar that had just opened because she had heard they have good drinks. So you and the girls stayed out late, drinking away the stress from the last case.
You woke up the next morning naked in a strange bed, confused by what you did. You weren't the type of person to have random hookups. When you finally decided to look at the woman's bed you were in, you were shocked to see your coworker, Emily Prentiss. You weren't surprised that you hooked up with Emily. You would have done that if she asked. You were more shocked that she hooked up with you.
Fast forward six months later, and you and Emily have been dating for five months. You could not be happier, and neither could Emily.
Just because you love your job doesn't mean you don't have moments where you hate it. Like right now, you are in Emily's lap, making out with her when your phone rang.
"Fuck!" you groan as you get out of her lap to grab your phone.
Emily, stretching out her arms, trying to pull you back onto her lap, she states in an irritated tone, "Just let it ring. If it is so important, they will call back."
You look at Emily, debating your options. You really wanted to continue to make out with Emily, but you know that is probably Penelope calling about a case.
"Emily, we can't. You and I both know that call is Penelope with a case." You look at Emily with an apologetic look as you pick up the phone.
Emily sighs, "I know, but you look so good right now."
You duck your head, trying to hide your blushing face from Emily as you answer the call from Penelope.
"Yes, Penny?" You speak in a calm tone.
In a very energetic and fast tone, Penelope tells you, "Case we have a very yucky awful case."
"I figured, oh, and Penelope?" You ask.
"Yes, my favorite fruity friend?" She asks in the same energetic tone.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Garcia, how much coffee have you had today?"
"Technically, I only had one," Penelope said while shaking from the caffeine.
You look at Emily with an exasperated look on your face. You weren't trying to get annoyed at Penelope, but her fake math concerned you with how unhealthy it is most of the time.
Emily stood up and grabbed the phone from your hand, "Garcia, we are on our way, and when we get to Quantico, I am taking away your caffeine and switching you to decaf."
"WAIT WHAT, ARE YOU DOING WI-" Garcia yells into the phone before Emily hangs up.
You stand there surprised at what Emily did before she looks at you, "What? You better start getting ready. We don't want to be late." She tells you with a smirk on her face.
"That was hot," you fake cough, "We might be sick and need to stay home from this case." You try to grab your girlfriend, but she walks away to get ready.
You groan and decide to get ready. Grabbing your phone, you connect it to your speaker and start to play music.
You and Emily get ready quickly with only minimal distractions. You couldn't stop teasing each other, but luckily, you learned to get dressed fast during high school.
The car ride to the BAU was filled with lengthy touches and quick kisses. Emily wouldn't let go of your thigh while she was driving. She almost caused an accident because of it.
After getting to the FBI building, you and Emily walked in together, talking about random stuff while riding to the sixth floor.
As soon as you both walk into the round table room, you and your girlfriend are immediately questioned by Hotch, "You late. Where were you?"
You look over at Emily, having no idea what to say. You and Emily decided not to tell the team you were dating yet, but that can cause issues like now.
"We went out last night, and she stayed at my apartment. When we got the call from Penelope, I had to drive her to her apartment so she could grab her go bag and get ready." Emily quickly responded to Hotch.
"That is fine. Just don't let that happen again." Hotch said in his usual serious tone.
You do not know where your girlfriend got her lying skills, but you were lucky she had them because Hotch believed her. You and Emily quickly sat down in a seat to not get reprimanded by Hotch.
After Penelope explained the case, everyone went to the bullpen to grab their things, striking up a casual conversation here and there.
Thirty minutes later, the whole team, minus Penelope, was on their way to the sunny state of Florida.
This case was crazy and took many unexpected turns, but you shouldn't have expected any less from a Florida case. Still, you were surprised when what was supposed to be a routine talk with a witness ended with you getting stabbed. You were also left with a sizable scar on your chest as a result of that.
On the way back to Quantico, the jet was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
You sat in the back of the plane alone, with your headphones in, listening to your favorite songs, trying to stay awake. You haven't been able to sleep without having a nightmare since your attack, and you are worried you will have one on the jet if you fall asleep.
What you don't notice is your girlfriend staring at you from across the jet, worried about how you are coping with your attack.
Rossi moves across from Emily, "You know, just staring at her is not going to magically make her better, kid."
"I know, I just don't know what to do. I wish I could take all of the pain away she is feeling," Emily says, looking at the older man.
"You love her," Rossi says more as a statement than a question.
Before Emily could squeak out a defense, Rossi quickly spoke, "Emily, I'm not going to judge you, but you know she has been through a lot now and in her past. You need to be there for her, be the shoulder for her to cry on. Make sure you remind her how much you love her. You cannot take away her pain, but you can help her cope and learn to grow."
Emily looked over at you before she spoke again, "I will. Thank you, Dave."
"It's no problem, kid. You learn a thing or two after three marriages," He jokes.
Emily grins at his joke while turning to look at you again. This time, you notice her and give her a weak smile. She smiles back at you. She looks at your tired features that highlight your lack of sleep and feels a sense of worry wash over her.
After the jet lands, Hotch lets everyone go home early. Before you could leave, Derek invited everyone out to grab some drinks. You didn't want to say no because everyone said they were coming, and you felt bad being the only one not going.
So now you sit at the bar alone. Drinking when you definitely shouldn't because of the medication you are on. All because Hotch and JJ left early for their kids, Rossi and Spencer left because it was past their bedtime, and everyone else is dancing.
When Emily finally comes to the table and sees you not having a good time, she decides to call a cab and take you home.
It took her a while to get you to her apartment because of how drunk you were, but as soon as she opened the door, you immediately walked to the couch to sleep. Since Emily is an incredible girlfriend, she got you up and dragged you to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
After she washed your face and brushed your teeth because you could barely walk, she went to unbutton your shirt to change your bandages, but you immediately stopped her.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Emily asks, concern in her voice.
The alcohol in your system was making you honest, "I'm ugly. The scar ruined my body," you said with tears rolling down your cheek.
"You are not ugly. You are as gorgeous as ever," Emily reassures you.
"But-" before you can finish your sentence, Emily kisses you to stop your self-deprecating.
Emily breaks apart your kiss and speaks against your lips, "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and no scar will ever make me feel different."
"Change my bandages, Emily," you look at Emily with tears and love in your eyes.
Emily unbuttons your shirt slowly and takes it off your shoulders. She slowly peels off your bandages and grabs the supplies to clean the wounded area. After she disinfects the scar, she leans down and kisses the mark.
Emily looks up at you, "Your so beautiful, and I never want to lose you. You are my best friend."
"I love you too," you say with tears rolling down your cheek again.
That night, you fall asleep in Emily's arms without one nightmare in sight.
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nobodysdaydreams · 6 months
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Explaining fandoms I’m not in, but I have seen on my dash from the mutuals (to the best of my knowledge based on their posts):
Why? Because I thought it would be fun and entertaining and I hope I’m not wrong.
The Magnus Archives (TMA)- a group of people document creepy and supernatural events while they slowly one by one discover either that they are the monsters/possessed by them, or that they are being taken in by the monsters, or that their coworkers are the monsters, or that they themselves are possibly friends with or dating the monsters, or that they have been working for the monsters (or bad guys) the entire time. Many of the villains seem to be demented or possessed life sized toys and clowns or eyeballs. This podcast has so many episodes, and I see so many posts about it, but these seem to be the common themes.
Miraculous Ladybug- actually haven’t seen this one on my dash in a long time, but when I first did, despite appearing like a straightforward kids fandom, the shipping discourse confused the heck out of me. But if I have this right, based on the posts from my younger followers, two teenagers are animal themed superheroes who are dating each other and also have crushes on each other, but they don’t know they are dating each other, because they don’t know each others secret identities, because… okay, I still honestly have no idea why. There are ~5K posts about this apparently very central and specific plot line, but not one explains why they don’t just tell each other who they are??? Anything for the plot, I guess. Apparently this has been going on for a long time to the point where even the show’s target audience of children is confused as to how these teenagers and grown adults haven’t put the pieces together as to who everyone’s secret identity is.
Keeper of the Lost Cities (KOTLC)- there’s a girl named Sophie. She is an elf in a love triangle with Keefe and some other guy (I think his name is Fritz). Keefe’s parents are terrible, especially his mom. Sophie has horse DNA (I don’t know if that post was a joke or not sorry if that’s wrong). There’s an elf with fire powers. Elves read minds. There’s a group called the black swan who are the good guys, I think. Also I think the elves and humans are at war. I know Keefe’s parents are trash, does Sophie have parents? From what I can tell, she grows up believing she’s a human but then surprise! She’s an elf and the chosen one, and elves are possibly immortal? Wait, maybe Sophie’s a half elf. Is that a thing?
Spy x Family - two people are fake dating each other for spy reasons but eventually fall in love for real. The twist is, they each think the other is a normal civilian who doesn’t know about the fake relationship (which is kinda messed up to make someone fall in love with you for a fake cover but if they’re also doing the same to you that’s karma I guess) but I think it might end up ok, because they fall in love for real (Aw) but possibly also not okay, because I also think it might be revealed that they’ve been working for enemy sides this whole time (drama). Also the adopted daughter is a mind reader who knows everything but chooses to keep what she knows secret for the plot. Respect. And I recently saw something about the family having a super powered dog? Is he real?
The Murderbot Diaries - a bunch of robots are created for one purpose: murder. But when their murder programming goes haywire, they discover that they might have more in common with the humans they’ve been assigned to kill than they originally thought. Or that they have more humanity inside themselves than they thought… or maybe that the people who created them have more evil intentions than… well in hindsight, “the people who build the murder robots are evil!” seems like an obvious plot twist, but maybe they’re more morally complex or had decent intentions and just never intended for it to go this far… or maybe the robots get hacked or decide maybe they don’t want to be murder bots anymore which brings us back to free will. Interesting philosophical questions, but I think the robots might be getting into some wacky shenanigans as well. Also they apparently have diaries. I get that a diary is just like… a log of what they’re doing, but that won’t stop me from imaging a big scary robot with a little pink glitter pen writing “Dear Diary, I killed three people today. I still see their faces when I try to power off at night. When I go into sleep mode, I dream of their faces. I begin to wonder things, like whether they had families, dreams, or ambitions. I also wonder what they felt in their final moments. I fear this means I am developing a conscience and desire to turn against my programming and the creators. But probably nothing a little update and restart can’t fix. I’ll keep you updated, dairy. XOXO, Murderbot 💕” So. How did I do? Scale of 1-10, with 10 being “you nailed it!” and 1 being “None of this is remotely close. What posts have you been looking at?”
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WIP Wednesday (sorta)
No WIPs on the horizon for me but I’ve been tagged in an assortment of writing posts (thank you all 🥰❤️❤️) so thought I’d use the opportunity to share a (very angsty) scene from my cutting room floor that I like but never quite went anywhere.
O.B. and Casey ask Mobius for his opinion on a new statue dedicated to Loki at the TVA, angst ensues.
***
Mobius blinks, pulled from his memories by the sound of chairs scraping against the linoleum floor. The meeting is over. His coworkers gather their things and meander out of the conference room—laughing, gossiping, planning follow-up meetings—but Mobius stays seated and stares at his notepad. It's empty. He slumps, running a weary hand through his hair. He hadn’t paid any attention to Judge Gamble’s briefing on this cycle’s latest threats to the multiverse. Again.
He’ll need to get the notes from Bea. Mobius gets up, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach as he searches for Bea amongst the crowd. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed Mobius slipping—the way he’s constantly asking for her notes, the decreasing numbers of files he’s completing, how patterns that used to seem so obvious elude him lately. She’s looked the other way thus far but eventually she’ll need to take disciplinary action, whatever that means in their new TVA. Mobius can handle it and honestly, she’s already given him more leeway than she should as their new Director.
It doesn’t take long for him to find her. Bea’s standing at the end of the hallway, embroiled in what appears to be a hushed argument with Casey and O.B. Despite the anxiety pounding through his system, Mobius’ curiosity spikes.
“Hey guys.”
Bea jumps slightly at his approach—odd—and turns around with a forced smile. “Oh, hey Mobius,”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she answers too quickly. She shifts when O.B. tries to get around her, file in hand. It's a futile attempt to hide the technician from Mobius’ view.
“Right,” Mobius chuckles, stepping around Bea to take the file from O.B.’s outstretched hands. He might be losing his edge but he’s not useless yet. He can detect a lie when he sees one. “You know, Bea, I might have believed you if not for…”
The words die in Mobius’ throat as soon as he opens the file.
They’re plans. Plans for a new statue in the atrium; a statue dedicated to the person who made everything they do now possible, the holder of all the timelines, their savior, the person whose absence is felt like a dagger to Mobius’ chest with every heartbeat.
He looks gorgeous, just like always. Whoever designed the statue did a great job. They almost captured Loki’s likeness. His hair curls loosely about his shoulders, his jaw set and determined, his expression regal—though his eyes are missing that familiar, mischievous twinkle. He’s dressed in emerald robes and wearing those magnificent horns Mobius had last seen him in. In all his years studying Loki variants, Mobius had never seen a Loki with a larger set. They’re a testament to the power he wielded that day. After centuries, it seemed Loki finally found his glorious purpose. Mobius wishes the sight filled him with pride. Instead, he’s taken straight back to his nightmares.
“We wanted to honor him,” Casey begins in a soft voice, “but we weren’t sure if it’s what he would want so we thought we’d ask…” Casey trails off.
They thought they’d ask the Loki expert, Mobius finishes, gulping past the lump forming in his throat. Smart plan. If anyone knew how Loki would want to be remembered, it would be Mobius. Except…
He doesn’t know.
The thought strikes Mobius with harrowing realization. In another time, this statue would be exactly what Loki would want. Mobius’ mouth quirks up into a smile as he recalls the statue Loki had arranged for himself on the Sacred Timeline following his fake death on Svartalfheim. It had been a grandiose, expensive thing. Another prank pulled by the God of Mischief.
Mobius’ smile is gone as soon as it appears because that Loki isn’t his Loki. This time, it isn’t a trick. It isn’t part of some grand plan. Or, at least, not one that Mobius can understand.
He has so many questions about that day. How long had Loki been timeslipping? How many other options had he tried before he settled on that final decision? What led him there? Had he spoken with someone beforehand; had they led Loki to this conclusion?
Mobius shuts his eyes in an effort to clear the now familiar tears building behind them. Why hadn’t Loki talked to him? What hadn’t he asked for help? Mobius is sure he could have convinced Loki to try something else. They could have figured out a solution if only they’d worked together. Why did Loki think this was the only option? Why did this sacrifice fall to him and him alone? Why didn’t he say goodbye? Why? Why? Why? Why? The questions circle around and around in Mobius’ head. Forever unanswered.
“Mobius?” O.B. prompts. “Do you know if Loki would be okay with this? We don’t want to move forward until we know.”
Mobius opens his mouth in an attempt to answer but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know if this is what Loki would want because that Loki, the Loki who sacrificed himself for all of them, is a stranger to Mobius. That Loki had spent who knows how long traveling through time, attempting to find a solution, alone. There are no reels for what happens within the TVA, no reels for Mobius to analyze.
Sometimes, when he dreams, Mobius swears he can remember moments with Loki that never happened. Arguments, laughter, philosophical conversations over pie, even… There’s one night in particular Mobius returns to often in his dreams. He flushes at the memory before shaking it away. It all feels so real when he’s asleep but when he’s awake his memories jumble together until he can’t determine what happened and what didn’t. It makes him feel untethered, these half-forgotten memories, these dreams, these fantasies. Mobius settles on that last word: fantasies. That's all they are. Something his mind has manufactured in a desperate attempt to make sense of what Loki did.
“Mobius?” O. B. tries again. “Is this what Loki would want?”
Would want. Past tense. Because Loki isn’t coming back. Not this time. Mobius takes a breath but it doesn't reach his lungs.
“I—” he stutters. The papers shake in his hands, that image of Loki holding the timelines grows larger on the page until it consumes the world around him and Mobius feels himself slipping back into his memories. “Um, I don’t…”
Suddenly, it’s too bright and the ringing in his ears has returned. It’s the alarm from the observation deck blaring a warning that they’re running out of time until the loom breaks. Mobius’ wipes sweat from his brow. It’s excruciatingly hot; he wonders if he should be worried about the temporal radiation leaking through the glass window before him but he can’t focus on anything except Loki. Loki walking out onto the gangway. Loki raising his arms to break the loom. Loki grabbing hold of the timelines and breathing life into them with that brilliant, beautiful green magic of his. Loki turning back, one last time, to give him a smile before he-
“Mobius?” Bea puts a grounding hand on Mobius’ arm and Mobius forces himself to the present. He can’t allow himself to be overtaken by that particular memory again. He can’t.
“I’m fine,” Mobius says after a moment. “Just a headache. Really,” he adds at Bea’s unconvinced stare before turning to O.B. and Casey. “To answer your question, O.B., I don’t know. I don’t know what Lo-“ Mobius’ voice catches on the name. “I don’t know what he’d want. Not anymore. Maybe he’d like a statue. Maybe not. I just… I don’t…”
“It’s okay,” Bea cuts in, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll put the plans on hold and revisit them later.” Her last words are unmistakably a stern warning to O.B. and Casey to drop the subject.
“But-” O.B. starts.
“We get it,” Casey nods. “We’ll come back later. Feel better, Mobius.”
With a pitying glance that Mobius begrudges but can’t say he doesn’t deserve, Casey takes the file from his hands and guides O.B. back down the hallway, leaving Bea and Mobius alone.
Mobius half expects Bea to follow, he can’t imagine her to do list, but she doesn’t. He can feel her eyes boring down at him while he scuffs at the TVA emblem on the floor below. For all time. Always. Mobius snorts. Yeah, right.
He knows what he has to do. He can’t be here anymore. The memories are too loud, too painful. And more importantly, the new TVA deserves better than an old, washed-up analyst broken beyond repair.
Mobius takes a shuddering breath. “Look, Bea, I’ve been thinking…”
“Can we get some lunch,” Bea interrupts.
Mobius meets her gaze confused. He knows they need to have this conversation. He knows that she knows that they need to have this conversation and yet…
Neither of them are ready. He can see it in her eyes. Somehow she knows what he’s about to say and she doesn’t want to have this conversation any more than he does.
“I’ve been implementing some changes,” Bea starts. “Trying to get something better than wilted salad and stale pizza in the cafeteria,” she adds with an awkward laugh. Then, she pauses, uncharacteristically hesitant “I’d love to get your thoughts if you’ve got time. If anyone knows how to make this place better, it’s you and …I could really use your help, Mobius.”
Mobius sighs. It’s an easily delegatable task, a distraction technique. Bea doesn’t need his help picking the food in the cafeteria. But—Mobius meets Bea’s gaze—she’s scared. There’s no script for them now; the future is unknown. There’s no guarantee that anything they do will make a difference or if it’s even the right thing to do. Amidst all the changes, she needs the reassurance. And in a way Mobius does too. The TVA might be haunted for him now but it’s the only home he can remember. He doesn’t know where to begin out on the Timelines. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to leave. Yet.
“Sure,” Mobius says. “Let’s grab some lunch and we can talk through your plans for the place. I’m sure they’re great.”
Bea smiles in relief and they make their way to the cafeteria. Mobius half-listens as she chatters away, outlining her plans to improve life at the TVA. He won’t be here to see them through. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves but that conversation can wait a little longer.
***
The finale was sad but lemme tell you the tears didn’t come for me until that conversation with B-15 and Mobius. 😭💔
Anyway, sorry to leave it here with hurt/no comfort but if you need some comfort, recommend Tell Me Some Things Last - a lovely story by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening about Sylvie & Mobius healing that I’ve fully adopted into my own headcanon. Also shamelessly plugging my own Lokius S2 reunion fic (which is where this scene was going to drive towards eventually anyway).
No pressure tagging my fellow creatives back for a “last line” “seven sentence Sunday” or “WIP Wednesday” whatever floats your boat. I want to hear what you’re working on and absolutely love reading your writing updates as they come in!
Happy writing! 💖
@loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @kcscribbler @blackbirdofasgard @queen-of-meows @dewdropreader @mirilyawrites @wolfpup026
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thelarriefics · 1 year
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FAKE RELATIONSHIP FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find more fics that have themes of fake/pretend relationships. (Part I)
📖 The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint (163k)
“What’s that on your finger?” Louis asks, his voice higher than usual, slightly panicked as though he’s realised something that Harry hasn’t even begun to comprehend. Harry looks down on his right hand then, sees nothing and moves on to the left, and— Oh. A ring. Or, Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together. (aka the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making)
📖 Lightning Strikes The Heart by @fournipplesau & @justalarryblog (130k)
Shrewsbury, 1814 Dearest reader, I present to you your new bulletin of news regarding Shrewsbury citizen's activities. My name is Lady Merriweather and I will be in charge of the updates. I will make sure you are to know all the important details of what is to happen this season. You must know that you do not know who I am and you never shall. But be forewarned; I certainly do know you. I advise you to be on your best behaviour, lest you want the whole town to be privy of your business. As expected every year, the Lockhart House hosts the season’s opening ball, and its invitation is the motive of the hustle in town, and every family hopes for the invitation. This year is no different, but this year everyone's attention is focused on the new Duke of Montgomery, His Grace Harry Edward Styles, and whether he will attend it. All the omegas will be in their best manner, behaviour and clothes as it is expected. And here, dear reader is where we will find out which young omega might succeed at securing a match, hoping to not become a spinster. Place your bets.
📖 Mistletoe's For Two by @ireallysawanangel (90k)
After an encounter in a coffee shop with the rudest man he's ever met, Louis hopes the city is just big enough that he'll never bump into him again. When he spots that man at a bar the following evening, a plan begins to form. They both need dates for their respective Christmas parties and decide to use each other for their own benefit. They'll help one another through the holidays and then 'break it off' on New Year's, then agree to never see each other again. Developing feelings was not part of the plan. Or, an enemies to lovers fake dating advent fic.
📖 this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry (68k)
On the surface, CitizenX, an international caritative nonprofit, looked like any other nonprofit, funding humanitarian missions worldwide and striving to make the world a better place, one donation at a time. At least, that was what Harry thought, until he was hired as a computer specialist for a spinoff agency called carish, whose true purpose was to reveal CitizenX’s tangled web of lies. As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry. When the worst happened and Harry and Louis found themselves thrown together in hiding, with only each other to rely on, Harry never could have predicted the turn their relationship would take. Nor could he anticipate that it would all be taken away from him and he would have to decide how far he was willing to go to get Louis back.
📖 another dream but always you by @nobodymoves (60k)
Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band. It's an unusual assignment from the beginning; Harry has a crush on Louis, and Louis's subconscious immediately decides Harry is the love of his life. When Dreamers cast Harry as their love interest, he can usually redirect them, but Louis is insistent on being Harry's boyfriend, and despite knowing they have no future, Harry wants to keep up the charade.
📖 Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes by @softfonds (59k)
What happens when a Duke who will only marry for love and a courtesan who only sells it create a public ruse? Well, nothing boring for sure. An Edwardian AU.
📖 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence (36k)
Harry loves Christmas, but this year is special. After ten years of boyfriends all failing to ever meet Harry's family, Harry has a fiance to introduce and things are looking like they will be perfect. Until they break up. Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. This leaves him with little choice but to find someone to pretend they are his fiance. Surely nothing could go wrong with this plan.
📖 Lies & Liability by @evilovesyou (34k)
Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.
📖 Pray To God This Won't Be A Mess by @xogucciblue (28k)
When Louis is outed just weeks before his hotly anticipated second album is set to drop, Harry agrees to hold his hand in a few pictures to cool down the media hype. That's all it was supposed to be.
📖 Went Down In Flames by @itsnotreal (26k)
Louis was in an absolutely shit storm. He had let it go on for too long. Let it go too far. But he had a plan. And tonight, said plan was going down. He was going to tell the boys he was proposing this weekend. ‘Harry’ would turn him down, albeit gently, and Louis would play the heartbroken boyfriend. He’d gotten this far. All he had to do was lock himself in his bedroom and cry a little. He’d been in a few plays growing up. Piece of cake. Except. It didn’t go that way. Of course, it didn’t. Because the universe, the beautiful chaotic bitch that she was, just had to have an actual Harry Styles and he just had to be Niall’s best friend.
📖 And I’d Marry You Harry (Because You Forced Me) by @2tiedships2 (24k)
The Proposal AU featuring Harry as Sandra Bullock, Louis as Ryan Reynolds, and all the fun a fake relationship and forced engagement can bring.
📖 if it looks like, feels like, tastes like love...  by @tempolarriefix (16k)
the one where harry and louis hate each other but pretend to date to be able to live in university 'family housing', zayn and liam are their nosy next door neighbors, and niall is the friend who made it all happen.
📖 Wed’n Walk (Or, We Went to Amsterdam Together) by @hellolovers13 (11k)
When Harry had first started planning his honeymoon to Amsterdam, he had not envisioned ending up there with his best friend. Or getting fake-married to him for 24 hours.
📖 Not Another Lonely Christmas by @haztobegood (8k)
Harry should be more nervous that he’s bringing a literal stranger to meet his extended family, but he figures it can’t be much more awkward than Aunt Sharon’s Christmas parties usually are. Instead, he’s looking forward to having an extra person to buffer the conversation. A knock comes one minute after eleven. He lets out the breath and opens the door. “Hi there— Louis?!” Or, the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis
📖 Christmas Pretenders by @larryatendoftheday (4k)
When Niall convinced Louis to come home with him for the holidays as his fake boyfriend, he never expected he'd run into the loveliest man he'd ever seen. Or, twist on the fake-dating for the holidays fic, where the real love interest is the fake-boyfriend's best friend.
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mentalpolaroids · 2 years
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Almost got it
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[gif creds @sam-reids ]
Steve Harrington x female!Reader
Summary: She's a barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Steve's name on purpose
Warnings: one or two curse words
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This one had to be the best one yet, Steve thought as he studied the unfamiliar name written on his coffee cup. Stephen. He looked back at the barista standing behind the coffee shop’s counter, who waved at him wearing a smile on her face, one that gave away that she knew exactly what she did. 
Steve chuckled and walked back to the spot where he picked up his cup noticing how (y/n) pretended to not know what to expect from his return.
“Can I help you?” she asked innocently.
“You know, you were closer this time.” 
“To what?”
“Getting my name right.” 
“You don’t say?” she faked surprise, earning another chuckle from Steve, “I really thought I had it today.” 
“Not yet.” 
“Well, sorry about that Stephen.” 
“It’s Steve.” he tried to explain, for the sixth time, but somehow he remained patient. 
Both had been playing this back and forth game for the last month, and both were having more fun with it than they cared to admit. Steve wasn’t sure what the purpose of it was, but after the third time he realized she was messing up his name on purpose. And he loved it. He loved that the barista was giving him a chance to speak to her, because contrary to his usual behavior around women, this one felt out of his league and he wouldn’t dare try his luck. He dreaded the possibility of embarrassing himself and having Robin touching the subject every minute. But turns out, luck was on his side after all because there he was, in a flirtatious banter with a girl he could only dream of crossing paths with. And she was the one to start it all.
“Right, I think I got it.”
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” he smiled.
(y/n) agreed, “Can’t wait.”  
At Family Video, Robin was already awaiting her coworker’s arrival and what new name he had been assigned that day.
“Stephen? Not bad, but Stefan was iconic.” Robin commented after taking a look at Steve’s cup. 
“Definitely better than Stefon.” 
Robin bursted out laughing.
“Oh God, if (y/n) wasn’t hitting on you I would so shoot my shot. She’s hilarious.” 
Steve looked at her, confused.
“Wait, you know her?”
“Yeah, I actually tried to shoot my shot when she started working there but she turned me down so nicely I couldn’t even feel disappointed and then, somehow, we became friends.”
Steve was, you could say, shocked. All this time Robin had been making fun of him and the whole situation and instead of helping him out, considering that apparently his best friend was friends with his crush, she was indirectly joining (y/n)’s side. 
“So you’re telling me that you could’ve been helping me all this time, you know, making my life less miserable for chasing after a girl I still can’t believe is flirting with me, but you decided not to.”
“What can I say, you’re a dingus and I like watching you suffer.” she replied, but then continued after receiving a mean look, “But let’s be real here, Steve, you are being an idiot. The girl you insist is so out of your league is literally throwing herself at you and you’re still not doing anything about it. I mean, ask her out, we both know she’s going to say yes.” 
Steve looked unsure still, thought it was comforting to have someone tell him he had a chance. 
“And what if I’m reading it all wrong, huh? I would just make a fool out of myself.”
“You fought beings of another dimension and you’re scared of being rejected? Yeah you really make a fool of yourself on a daily basis, but hey, I’m sure (y/n) will accept that part of you anyway.”
“Okay, you know what, forget it.” the boy drank the last sips of his coffee and turned his back to Robin to start his tasks at the store, 
“Steve!” she called him, “Like I said, (y/n) and I are friends. Trust me when I say you should ask her out.” 
He sighed, defeated, but didn’t totally dismiss Robin’s suggestion. 
..
Steven. So damn close. Steve smiled at the pretty handwriting on his cup. 
“What’s so funny?” his favorite voice asked from behind the counter. 
Instead of answering, he showed her the name she once again didn’t get right. 
They had created a habit, an inside joke, and everyday (y/n) wondered if that would be the day the boy would get the hint and ask her out, because she was running out of variations of his actual name to keep their thing going. 
“You almost got it today.” 
“Almost?”
“Yeah, almost.” 
(y/n) smiled and shook her head slowly, in an amused disbelief at how this game had been going for so long and had gotten her nowhere still. If it wasn’t for Robin constantly convincing her that Steve did like her, she would’ve given up already and gotten his name right, because it was hard to believe the ex King of Hawkins High who could get any girl he wanted was so clueless and slow when it came to her flirting. Was she not trying hard enough? Did the coffee shop’s uniform make her look unattractive? Was messing up his name actually annoying to him? But Robin’s reminder of how Steve’s visit to (y/n)’s workplace made him go to his own workplace with a smile permanently painted on his lips eased her overthinking. And it also left her confused, because if he liked her like Robin insisted he did, why wasn’t he doing anything about it? 
“Tomorrow is the day, I’m telling you.” (y/n) finally answered, determined to end the game, even if she had to cheat a little bit to win it, “Tomorrow I’ll get it right.”
Steve’s smile widened, excited to see what else she had in mind, and, of course, to see her again. 
“I’m looking forward to it.” 
..
The next day, Steve woke up determined to put an end to all his doubts and fears and finally ask (y/n) out. For once in his life, he was going to listen to Robin. Stepping into the coffee shop, the upwards curve on his lips dissipated when he didn’t see the usual barista behind the counter. 
Steve frowned, disappointed that he wouldn’t be getting a weird name that day nor the intriguing jokes from the girl that filled his days with warm smiles and dreamy thoughts. He walked closer to the spot where he usually picked his coffee up and waited for the guy replacing (y/n) to be free from the other clients.
“Hey, what can I get you?” the man asked.
“Hi, uh, actually I was just wondering if (y/n)’s here today?” 
“Oh, no, it’s her day off today.”
Steve’s disappointment grew and he tried hard not to ask too many questions, not wanting to sound desperate or creepy. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to prove that to though, the guy or himself. 
“Oh, okay, thanks anyway. Have a good day.”
“Thanks, you too man.”
The boy made his way to Family Video in a mood that wasn’t very recognizable to him after leaving the coffee shop. The source of his usual giddy mood wasn’t present today and it was immediately clear, especially to Robin. 
“What’s the long face, Harrington?” she joked, but quickly noticed his empty hands. No coffee, and she feared the worst, “Please don’t tell me you got rejected. I’m so sorry, Steve, I was super sure she was into you, I don’t get it, I-”
“I didn’t get rejected, Robin. Not yet anyway. She wasn’t working today.”
“Oh.” she sighed in relief, she really didn’t want to confront her friend about breaking her other friend’s heart. That would be awkward. 
“So,” he tried to change the subject, “did the new movies arrive yet?” 
And just when Robin was about to answer, the door to the store opened and a certain missing barista made herself seen, two cups of coffee in her hands. 
“Hey (y/n), we were just talking about you.”
If Steve wasn’t so surprised with seeing (y/n) there he would for sure have rolled his eyes at Robin. 
“Hey Robs!” she then turned to the boy next to her friend, “And…” she trailed her voice while taking a concentrated look at one of the cups, “Steve, right?” 
The smile that was missing from earlier finally showed up to his lips accompanied with a chuckle and a shake of his head. 
“That’s right. You finally got it.”
“Yeah, I finally got it.” 
Robin was looking between her two friends like she was watching a movie, anxious for the grand moment. (y/n) noticed it and slid one of the cups over the counter in her direction.
“For you.” (y/n) said to her while giving her a knowing look. 
It took a while for Robin to realize what it meant but she eventually caught up to it.
“Right, thank you! I’m going to, uh, check if the movies had arrived yet.” 
Steve nodded, his lips in a tight, close-mouthed forced smile, mentally facepalming himself at the girl’s capacity of turning every situation into an awkward one. (y/n) bit her lip to contain a laugh at the clumsy walk Robin made to the back of the store. 
“So,” Steve started, smiling at his well written name on the coffee cup, for a moment getting distracted by how pretty his actual name looked in her handwriting, “I went by the coffee shop today, a guy said it was your day off.”
“Yeah, I kinda forgot to mention that yesterday. I mean, to be honest, I didn’t think you would care.”
“Of course I care, my day doesn't start properly until I have a coffee made by you and know what name I’ll be using for the rest of the day.” 
“Wait, you actually do that?”
Steve laughed.
“No, no way I would let people call me Steffen.”
It was (y/n)’s turn to laugh. 
“That was a good one.” Steve agreed with a shy laugh, “You do know I’ve always known your name was Steve, right?”
“Yeah, I knew.”
“Okay. Good.” (y/n) smiled and fiddled with the strap of her bag, “I like Steve.”
They weren’t sure how long they stayed looking at each other. It felt like time had stopped but it was just five seconds, enough time for (y/n) to chicken out and give up on her plans of being the one to ask the boy out. She was so confident walking into the store, flirt a little more and finally get the guy, but his hypnotizing stare reminded her of who he was and that she would probably be just another girl to tell the same story of a date she scored with Steve Harrington. She sighed, defeated, and cleared her throat. 
“Well, I should go, don’t wanna bother you while you work.” 
“You’re not bothering me.” he assured her, “You can stay if you want. I mean, I’m sure you have better things to do on your day off, but, you know, you’re not bothering or anything.” 
His nervous banter made her smile. 
“Well, thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Another five seconds of staring, this time a bit of tension in the air, but then (y/n) nodded and said her goodbyes to Steve. 
“Thanks for the coffee by the way!” he said before she could turn her back to walk to the door. 
“Don’t mention it!”
And out the door she went. 
Steve then realized she was, once again, gone, and no one asked out anyone. He groaned, annoyed with himself, and smacked the counter.
“You fucking dingus!” Robin yelled from the back of the store, “Go after her!”
The boy was going to yell something back, but then his brain finally processed the gesture of (y/n) bringing him coffee. She purposely took time off of her day to bring him coffee, and not screw up his name. That had to mean something, right? 
“Shit.” and with that, he jumped over the counter and ran to the door. He opened it only to meet (y/n) again, who looked like she was about to go into the store again. 
They stared at each other in surprise, but this time the silence was broken quickly when both spoke at the same time. 
“You wanna go out sometime?”
Both bursted out laughing and (y/n) immediately answered. 
“Yes.”
“Cool.” 
“Idiots’” Robin added from behind Steve, but she went unnoticed by the two said idiots staring at each other again. 
“I’ll swing by the coffee shop tomorrow, as usual.” 
“Okay.” (y/n) agreed and then added before turning around again, “Oh, I wrote my number on the bottom of your cup. Call me, Harrington.” 
“I sure will.” 
And with a last exchange of not so shy smiles and lingering looks, (y/n) walked away and Steve looked at her go, feeling accomplished and proud of himself for being one step closer to getting the girl he thought he couldn’t get.
......….........................……………………………………….
author's note: not my best but hope you liked it anyway
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yumeka-sxf · 2 years
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A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 8
*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*
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The next day, Yor's incredibly low self-esteem resurfaces, not only from the events of the night before, but also from Anya commenting that she's a bad cook (it's subtle, but Anya was probably going to say something about Yor's true identity when she read Twilight's mind and realized he was suspicious of Yor, but then thought better of it).
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In Yor's view, not only can she not cook, but she couldn't even go through with the kiss, and it was only thanks to Loid that everything with Yuri was smoothed over in the end. She misinterprets him being suspicious of her as him being upset with how useless of a wife she's been.
@greatwyrmgold suggests that Yor has impostor syndrome and/or social anxiety, and I agree with that. We saw a bit of it early on when she saved Anya from the thugs who wanted to steal her Eden uniform, where the only thing she could focus on after was what a failure she was for destroying the groceries in the process. @twiyoriz pointed out another example way back when she first met Loid at the tailors. When he commented on how pretty she was and she started to pursue him before finding out he had a child (and probably a wife too), she never thought he did anything wrong by flirting with her – she only blamed herself for almost asking out a married man. It's even worse in this episode. She can barely concentrate at work and ends up confiding in her coworkers about her situation. She even thinks about giving Loid some of the money she earns from her assassin jobs so she could be useful to him.
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It's interesting to note that during her encounter with the fake SSS officers, Yor only starts to revert to "assassin mode" when Franky makes a grab at her. But even then, her response is that he shouldn't touch her because she's a married woman, not because she doesn't want to be touched. She then goes further by threatening them if they do anything to harm Loid or Yuri. As usual, she really only loses it when someone threatens a person she loves, but not when she's the one under attack. Even afterwards, she never blames the SSS officers for totally screwing up and almost making a false arrest…all she can think about is what she did wrong – almost getting arrested and almost attacking a government agent.
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ProfessorViral made some good points about this part of Yor's character in his video analysis . To summarize, Yor dedicated her entire life to raising Yuri and ensuring his success. This more or less became her purpose in life, and because she never had time for other "normal" relationships like with friends or lovers, the only purpose she could see for herself is how she could be useful to him, which she was by becoming an assassin. But when she took on this new role of (fake) wife/mother, because of how she had lived her life until then, she can only see her worth in terms of her usefulness to Loid and Anya, just like with Yuri. She doesn't know how else to live besides being useful to others, yet the people she wants to be useful to don't need the one thing she knows how to offer: money from her assassin jobs. Because her assassin profession holds no benefit to them, she assumes being a "normal" wife/mother is what she has to be instead. Even though Loid and Anya never demanded this from her, outside influences, like her coworkers, the Eden interviewers, and the SSS, do – while she gets nothing but adoration in the Forger household, outside of that she's bombarded with expectations of what a wife/mother should and shouldn't be. Because of all this, she becomes conflicted, which only worsens her imposter syndrome.
Twilight does well keeping his emotions in check throughout this episode. But what's interesting is that, while he denied feeling guilty about being suspicious of Yor, when Franky tells him to keep his emotions out of the picture, he doesn't deny anything. He pauses for a moment (a pause in the anime, while the manga adds an extra panel of his placid expression to signify a pause) before bantering with Franky about the fake mask he was wearing.
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But this won't be the last time Twilight doesn't try to deny feeling emotions for his (fake) family when someone brings it up. And yet, remember how quick he was to deny anything flirtatious about himself and Yor when Anya mentioned it? There's a lot of moments like this that show that Twilight is much more likely to lose his composure around his (fake) family than with anyone else. I think at least one reason he's quicker to dismiss his feelings in front of Yor and Anya is because he knows if he let's any deeper emotions show, they may feel a need to reciprocate, and that will only make things more difficult for when he eventually has to leave them.
When Twilight finally meets up with Yor, he sees how depressed she is. She even flat out tells him that she's useless because she can't keep her own clothes clean (something he's to blame for).
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It's here that Twilight returns the confidence boost that Yor gave him not too long ago when he started thinking he was a failure as a father. While it's again debatable how much of what he's saying here is just "for the mission" stuff (since he can't let Yor get depressed) it's obvious his remarks about how exhausting it can be to always put on a performance, is spoken from the heart. In this case and many others, while "for the mission" may be the reason Twilight says many of the nice things he says to Yor, Anya, and others, what he actually says are things he truly believes in, especially when talking about a broader topic like this.
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Twilight is momentarily thrown off his groove when Yor tells him that she's glad she married him. For the first time since he started being suspicious of her, he looks noticeably surprised at something she said.
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He was probably expecting just a "thank you" or "I'll keep doing my best." As I suggested during Yuri's visit, at this point he may be starting to feel something for Yor, so the fact that she so sincerely said that she's glad she married him right after he put her through such a bad situation, probably poked at his conscience. His expression immediately darkens (a sign that his true feelings want to surface) as he recalls Franky's words about him feeling guilty for suspecting her. He then tightly clutches the bug in his hands before throwing it away, then suggests that they get a cake to celebrate their one-year wedding anniversary – all of which are subtle but clear reactions that show his satisfaction at not having to be suspicious of her anymore.
This is all just more evidence of how well Twilight and Yor complement each other, not just as parents to Anya, but for each other as individuals. While their core values and morals of wanting to do good in the world are the same, their personalities and how they view everything around them is vastly different. As also mentioned in Twiyoriz's post, Twilight, being a spy, always expects the worst from others, is always suspicious, and as such, refuses to let emotions cloud the reasoning skills he needs to survive. Yor, however, is the opposite – she always sees the best in others, will always put blame on herself first, and she reacts by emotions before reason. And yet, when Twilight was trying to overanalyze Anya's studying motivation and his own ineptitude as a father, Yor brought in the much-needed emotional side of things that he was missing. Likewise, in this case, when Yor's emotional instability was getting the best of her, Twilight's words helped her put things in a rational perspective that she never would have thought of on her own. A balance of strictness and rationalizing, as well as emotional understanding and support, is needed not just in parenting, but in a relationship as well.
Continue to Part 9 ->
<- Return to Part 7
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snowfinches · 2 years
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playing you for a fool | childe x gn!reader - angst
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confusion.
that was what your relationship with childe was like. it was confusing. everytime, he would blur the lines between being work partners and being more. being more than just a coworker, a person that he'd just "know". and it just felt wrong. sometimes, you felt as though he was more interested in his work as a harbinger than he would ever be in you. you would almost decide that it would be better to stop whatever the hell was going on with you and him, but he would always whisk you away with his charming words - just before you could break off the strange relationship. was it bad that you craved more than just the occasional makeout, the odd hangout, the intimate touches? was it really that bad, to be in love with the harbinger?
but your mind had always prevailed over your heart, and you had always decided to stay put. childe was your superior. a work relationship was unprofessional. you had always feared that your relationship would change drastically and there was always that fear that you’d lose your job if you asked him about it. perhaps a part of you was worried that the moments you had with childe didn't mean anything at all – maybe he was just naturally touchy, maybe those kisses weren't meant to mean more, maybe his nice words didn't mean a thing, maybe you were overthinking things.
but today you had enough.
you were feeling more fed up than ever. the touches became more frequent, the words sounded sweeter, and your heart couldn't take it anymore. over the past few days, you had thought about everything, worked up the courage to bring up your concerns to soothe the anxieties and clear up all the uncertainty that surrounded your relationship.
and then, before you knew it, you were eating out with said man, clutching chopsticks so tightly that you thought you’d break them. you couldn’t help it, it was hard not to be tense in front of the man causing your inner turmoil.
"comrade, you seem to be pretty tense. chopsticks causing you trouble?" you huffed at his comment, taking a bite out of your food.
“no, not really. it’s you - you’re troubling me.” you replied bluntly, shoving more food into your mouth casually to try to distract you from the mix of emotions within you. you had noticed the brief surprise in his eyes before it had disappeared, fading back into friendly emptiness.
"me? wow, to think i’d be causing you so much trouble. i’m flattered." he smirked. you frowned.
you chose to ignore his smirk, "i've been thinking… about our relationship."
this time the surprise was clear on his face. he was silent, and you watched his face slowly shift back to his previously smug look, though the smile had faltered.
it seemed as though he wasn't going to say anything, so you decided to continue speaking, "i can't keep doing whatever 'this' is, childe. i'm confused, and i hate it. i don't understand, why would i mean anything to you?"
"what? where is this coming from?" how could he be so oblivious? or was he being oblivious on purpose? “you don’t have to ruin our perfect night out now, do you comrade?”
were you really ruining your night out with him? was he really blaming you for feeling such emotions?
“i don’t know what we are,” you responded, voice clipped and sharp. his words stung. “and i don’t think we can keep mixing between coworker and lover.”
“oh?” childe looked at you, fairly amused. “really now?"
was that all he had to say? you were beginning to believe that he was just doing this to annoy you. with childe, you found that he was never serious with you, playful smiles and ingenuine laughter… it was all too… fake. but before you could say anything about it, he hushed you, smiling ingeniously.
“why are you even bringing this up?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice despite his seemingly cheerful demeanour, “i thought you enjoyed my company.”
“that’s not the problem.” you instantly replied, almost offended that he might have thought otherwise. did he really think nothing of those times you spent together? “it’s just that one time you’re touchy-feely, and the next i’m just a nobody to you.”
childe finally frowned, eyes as cold as ever, staring right at you. unnerved, you pushed food around your plate, suddenly losing appetite under his heavy gaze.
“i see.” he simply said, folding his arms, “well, would you like the truth?”
"yes? of course i do? why wouldn't i?" you could only sigh. he was being ambigious, and probably on purpose. it wasn't a surprise to you. nothing about childe seemed to surprise you - he was your superior. that was it.
“honestly, i thought you had figured it out already.” his grin had told you everything - he held a sardonic smile that created a sick feeling in your stomach as you anticipated his next words. “ah well. i was beginning to get bored of you anyway.”
your face fell. his face was still perfect and pretty, smile still there.
“oh, i guess i really overestimated your smarts!” he laughed boisterously, ignoring the way your face twisted with raw emotion. perhaps everything felt a little bit clearer. he was just using you, for his own amusement. your feelings had meant nothing to him. you had only wished you noticed sooner.
“i see.” you simply responded to him, ignoring how fragile your voice sounded. even if childe picked up on how distraught you were, you doubted he cared at this point.
“don’t act so hurt! i thought you had known all along!”
“if i had known...” you paused to take a breath. there was no need to cause a scene, there was no need to be angry at him. “if i had known you were playing me for a fool, i would’ve stopped whatever we had.”
you took a few breaths. in, out, in out. it was tough. you had no idea what you were feeling. rage, for being led on for so long? annoyance, for the time that you had wasted with him? grief, for the loss of a relationship that was never genuine? exasperated, for being so blind to the truth?
there was no time to dwell on the past - you had to get out before you said something unsavoury. before you acted irrationally.
“i suppose this is goodbye.” you managed to get out, not bothering to hide how bitter your voice sounded, “a shame we couldn’t finish the pleasant meal before us.”
“a shame really, as the food here is excellent!”
you didn’t bother responding. his carefree attitude had always dominated, even in troubling situations. there was no point in responding. he had already shown his lack of care for you (through his decievingly sweet words), and all you wanted to do was turn away from him and your past relationship.
all he did was play you for a fool. and you believed him, taking every honeyed word to heart, hesitantly anticipating something more.
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