#i had so much fun with this but the background....it defeated me.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnyreaper · 7 months

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags.

The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck.

The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face.

Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it.

Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could.

That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.

Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.

You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink.

The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more.

"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always.

"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.

He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?"

You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.

"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background.

"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—"

Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."

Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.

"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?"

"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear.

"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him.

You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.

Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing."

You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least.

"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good."

He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"

"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army?

"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway.

"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it.

His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..."

"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."

The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt. "I'm glad you waited for me."

"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again.

"Night, Johnny."

You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.

The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.

The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again.

Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.

The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through.

And when you do, the world stills.

You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach.

In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close.

He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together.

The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right.

"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.

"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake.

"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face.

You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent.

Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him.

His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts.

"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation.

He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything.

"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare.

Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement.

"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover.

You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way.

"We should move out of the way."

"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now."

His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.

"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires.

This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone.

Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both.

"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.

"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time."

You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart.

"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking."

Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours.

"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think.

You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then."

The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.

As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand."

"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?"

"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.

"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.

His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.

"Oh, will a now?"

"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?"

"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching.

"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that?

And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to.

His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff."

If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous."

"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous.

You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally.

"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second.

"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.

"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation "We'll come again, make them jealous right back."

You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.

"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though."

Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one."

His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry."

The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.

"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture.

After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile.

You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day.

When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body.

It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.

You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts.

Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.

"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny.

You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most.

"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.

Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version."

"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?"

Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.

"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."

You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on."

You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away.

"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return.

You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army."

"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair.

"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking.

"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments.

Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.

Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."

"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.

The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration.

"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.

"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly.

Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.

"I think he likes you too."

Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."

"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic?

Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?"

"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."

Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss.

They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.

He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet."

"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny.

He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."

You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.

"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now."

"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it.

You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything."

He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?"

"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!"

You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.

"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained.

The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do.

His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.

"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge."

Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium.

"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down."

His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.

Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed.

"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.

You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.

Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument.

You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid."

He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous."

You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.

Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."

"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?"

You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.

"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest.

Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget."

You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'"

"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either.

"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it.

You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.

"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture.

"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you."

"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?"

"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together.

You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then."

"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently.

You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?"

His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench.

"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response.

"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah..."

He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.

"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city.

The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things.

"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?"

"Last train is at 9."

You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough."

"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it.

"Not if you're sick of me first."

The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.

The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main.

Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other.

"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though.

"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?"

Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.

"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.

Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice.

"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.

Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.

His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth.

"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."

"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself.

The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask."

"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.

The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask.

"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you.

All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?"

"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one.

"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath.

Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"

"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building."

"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip.

"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows."

"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again.

You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real.

"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say.

"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?"

The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future.

"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.

"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect.

You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.

When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford.

The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.

"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman.

You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking."

He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound.

You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber."

His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?"

You nod. "I swear, I will."

You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him.

That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his.

"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly.

"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.

"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips.

You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea."

"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?"

"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately.

"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."

"Please."

Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him.

The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other.

Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ."

You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency."

"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?"

You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him.

"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?"

"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry."

"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.

Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side.

"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate.

"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier.

On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train.

You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again.

You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you.

Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #soap mw2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #collars and cages #this is a big chonky read and idk how to feel about it but here we are

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matryosika · 1 year

Text

Maknae Line: Love Languages and Sex

Wordcount: 6,250 words

Genre: Smut, headcanons and scenarios.

Includes: Skz maknae line members, female reader, dirty dialogues. Mentions of stress in Seungmin's scenario, and the tiniest bit of angst too.

Author's note: Finally, the maknae version is here! I know it took me a while, and I apologize, but here it is. This is all lovey-dovey, just sweet filth. I had tons of fun writing this, so I hope you guys like it. If you want, you can check out the Hyung Line version here. This is not proofread, and english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! The job hunting has not been good pretty far, so every single tip is appreciated. Also, feedback, reblogs and comments/asks are very motivating for me to keep on posting. I love you.

Smut warnings: Dirty dialogues and curse words. Use of petnames, mutual masturbation (for Jisung's scenario), oral sex, face fucking (for Felix's scenario), cum eating (for Felix's scenario), shower sex (for Seungmin's scenario), choking (for Jeongin's scenario), body cumshot (for Jeongin's scenario), also possessive Jeongin because I love him so much.

Jisung: Physical Touch and Quality Time

"Is this one okay?”

Jisung has been scrolling for about 20 minutes over the movie catalog, trying to pick a movie for you to watch together.

A waste of time, you think. It’s not like you’re going to watch it anyways, and he knows it. But he still spares some of his time to try and find the right one, something you'd want to watch... or have as background noise while you two make out.

“Yeah,” the movie looks promising, but considering’s Jisung’s sneaky hand between your thighs while he mindlessly stare at the screen in front of you two, you’re really sure you’re not going to pay any attention to it. “That one’s good”.

Once the movie starts playing, you two settle in beneath the warm blankets with all sorts of snacks, candy and chips to munch from, happily enjoying each other's company.

Because of college and part-time jobs, it’s has been a while since you last enjoyed a chill, relaxed weekend with your boyfriend. Surely, he does everything he can to meet you throughout the week —a quick call between your classes to chat for a while, an unexpected invitation to eat or have dinner, driving to where you work so he can pick you up and drive you home… Jisung always finds a way to spend some time with you, even for ten or fifteen minutes.

That's why whenever you two are free for the day, he rushes up to your apartment, or ask you to meet in his, just so he can spend all day together with you. Sometimes you two go out and enjoy a nice dinner somewhere, followed by a late-night walk through Seoul’s streets. Some others, you’d rather spend your weekend at home, ordering take out and just unwinding together like you’re doing right now.

But almost always, such dates end with you two fucking like you haven’t seen each other in months.

“The screen is right in front of you, Ji,” you tease him, once you realize his undivided attention is all over you, and not the movie he allegedly chose because he has been meaning to watch it for a while now.

“I know,” he simply replies, tilting his head while his loving eyes keep staring at you.

You turn your face to him, defeated. “You know, ever since we started dating I’ve never been able to watch a 2-hour movie complete”.

Jisung smiles fondly, letting out a soft scoff. “Am I really the only one to blame?”

“That’s not the point!,” you can feel the heat in your cheeks when he says so, but you try your best to remain calm. “The point is that you’re not paying attention to the movie, and it’s really good”.

“Oh, so you’d rather watch the movie?” his teasing tone tells you that you’re most definitely not going to keep on watching the movie, not even if you tried.

And although you’re not a fortune teller, the sudden touch of his hand against your inner thigh proves you right.

“If this is what you wanted since the beginning, why bother spending hours looking for something to watch?” you hum, spreading your legs underneath the comforter, welcoming Jisung’s touch.

He gives you a mischievous look before returning his attention to the screen, leaving his hand between your thighs without doing anything further.

“You know, you’re right,” he sighs, cuddling into his spot. “We should watch the movie, we’re almost halfway through it”.

His touch isn’t foreign to your body, but that doesn’t mean you’ve gotten used to it. Every time he touches you, it feels like it’s the first time he ever does so. It feels like a spark of electricity, one that ignites your desire in no time.

“Yeah right,” you chuckle, shifting your position on the couch to get close to him. “You’re saying so like you’re not going to forget about the movie in 5 minutes”.

“Do you want to bet?”

Typical Jisung. His fun and always-down-for-a-challenge personality is probably one of the things that made you fall in love with him profoundly, so you smile at him. “Bet what? That you can’t keep your hands off of me?”

“You can’t keep your hands off of me,” he mocks you, staring at you with loving and playful eyes. “I’m just too handsome for you not to crave me all the time”.

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. There’s something enticing about him, something that captured your attention ever since the day you met him for the first time. You can’t think of going on a day without kissing him, or touching him, or letting him fuck you in every room of your apartment.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re even,” you tell him, leaving a quick peck on the corners of his lips. “You crave me just as much as I crave you”.

Jisung pouts because of the quick kiss, his hand moving from your inner thigh to your hip. “So we can forget about the movie, then?”

You chuckle softly, brushing your nose against his as he leans over your for another kiss. “It’s not that good, anyways”.

“No?” the dark-haired purrs against your lips, kissing you deeply while his tongue grazes yours. He only stops the kiss to let you breathe for a couple of seconds, but kisses you again right after. “Is this better?”

“A hundred times better,” you smile, still kissing him while his hand gets lost in the hems of your clothing.

Next thing you know, the comforter has been discarded to the floor and Jisung's running out of clothes to take off from you, only leaving you in your underwear. His hands touch and grope your body like it’s the first time he touches it, like he is just exploring it despite knowing it very well.

Jisung always touch you like he has been craving it for ages, dragging his palms over the sides of your body and pressing you against his to feel you even more, completely at all. He kisses and licks your neck and chest, letting out quiet moans in between, enjoying your smell and the way your skin welcomes his love bites by turning shades of pink and red.

You latch your fingers onto his dark, soft hair when he slides your underwear to the side, his fingers immediately offering you the much needed stimulation. You do the same, sneaking your hand underneath his underwear to find his erected cock that is already leaking, practically begging for your touch.

“You got one thing wrong, though,” he murmurs in between kisses, shifting his position on the couch just slightly so that you can comfortably masturbate him while he does the same for you. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to crave me more than I crave you”.

“Do you want to bet?” you chuckle against his lips, drowning a moan when you feel his cock throbbing inside your fist.

The more you jerk him off, the sloppier Jisung’s fingers get, and the more he stimulates your clit, the slower the rhythm on your wrist —it’s a neverending moment. You’re kissing while pleasing each other, moaning in between, losing the pace of your ministrations as you both chase your highs, murmuring sweet nothings under your breathes, interrumpting the kisses to look at each other with lustful eyes and furrowed eyebrows, parted lips and quiet whimpers.

It doesn’t take you long to come in each other’s hands, making a mess of yourselves and your underwear. You’re now dirty, and practically naked, so Jisung can’t lose the opportunity to change his mind about the movie.

“Do you want me to run a bath for us, baby?”

You’re sure you know how that is going to end, but you can’t refuse.

Felix: Words of Affirmation and Quality Time

You both have been waiting for this exact moment ever since the last time you saw each other. Which was two days ago, but it felt like ages.

Tonight, you’re supposed to attend a dinner party of one of your closest friends, but you’re really struggling to get out of bed. Especially because it's Felix who's holding you hostage between his arms, pouting and whimpering every time you remind him of the very little amount of time left to get ready.

“Let’s ditch the dinner,” he tells you, snuggling underneath the bedsheets and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Let’s stay like this all night. What do you say?”

You throw a pillow at him and get free from his hold. Truth be told, you'd rather accept his proposal, but you can't ditch on this very close friends of you, especially on such an important occasion as a birthday is.

“Come on, Lix,” you murmur, walking towards the bathroom mirror to do your makeup. It had been a wise decision to take a shower before cuddling each other during the afternoon, otherwise you'd be more in a rush than you already are.

You hear him groan, and curse, and groan again until he meets you at the bathroom, joining you in the sink to brush his teeth and do a little bit of makeup.

When he approaches you, you notice his semi-hard bulge underneath his grey sweatpants as he relentlessly tries to fix and conceal it. Perhaps the cuddling session got to him, and he would rather stay at home and fuck you on every position known to mankind than going out and missing the warmth of your body.

You understand him, though.

“What?” he chuckles, his deep voice startling you minutes after being shamelessly looking at his crotch. “Did you change your mind?”

Hadn’t been this a very close and dear friend of yours, you’d cancel them on the spot. But you really want to go, so the plan is still on.

However, it doesn't really matter if you get there a little late, does it?

“No,” despite your answer, the way you close your cosmetics bag mid-through your makeup confuses Felix. “But we can have fun of our own before meeting our friends, don’t we?”

His eyes widen just a little. “We’re not going to make it on time if we start,” he tells you, tilting his head flirtatiously towards you.

“The point is to be there,” you reply, planting a wet kiss on his freckled cheek. “I don’t mind if it takes us a little while to get ready”.

Felix wraps his arms around your body and holds you close to him, forcing your lips against his in a peck that quickly, turns into a heated french kiss.

He kisses oh so deliciously. Never too rushed, and never too sloppy. He kisses you slowly and roughly, fucking your mouth with his tongue and biting your lower lip in between, pulling it just in the slightest to earn a hiss from you.

“You’re only getting me harder,” Felix murmurs when you interrupt the kiss to breathe. Judged by the strong pressure against your thigh, you can only assume he’s right. “I’m gonna need to jerk off or else I'm going to spend the entire dinner like this”.

“Jerk off?” you query with knitted eyebrows, your hand playing with the hems of his sweatpants and underwear, “I’m right here, Felix”.

“I don’t want to ruin your make up,” it’s not fully done yet, but he doesn’t want to discard your efforts in what you had by now. The eyeliner and mascara were surely going to make a mess —last time he fucked you, you both realize it wasn’t as waterproof as they claimed them to be. “And I don’t want to make a mess out of you either”.

“I don’t care,” you whisper, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips, along his jaw and into the crook of his neck, “let me help you”.

“I won’t take responsibility for anything,” Felix warns you while not being able to divert his gaze from your figure that's currently kneeling in front of him. He rests his body against the edge of the bathroom countertop, with his back facing the mirror, and guides his fingers to your freshly brushed hair, “so you better start thinking about a new outfit option”.

“Got it,” you hum, lowering his clothes to release his erection that's throbbing and pulsating inside your fist, begging for you to pay attention to it. “What about that black dress you like so much, huh? Should I wear that one tonight?”

Felix closes his eyes and throws his head back when he reminds the piece of clothing you’re referring to. Not only that, but the memory paired with the feeling of your warm tongue swirling against the tip of his dick earns you a deep moan from him.

“Y-yes,” he hisses, forcing his head down and opening his eyes to admire the whole scene. “But don’t expect me to keep my hands off of you tonight if you do”.

You smile while smacking his cock against your tongue, tasting the salty precum from his tip. He looks beautiful from this angle —his slightly sloping face is commanding, and his normally gentle eyes are now dark with desire.

“Like that,” Felix encourages you, grabbing a fistful of your hair while forcing your head back, “do that again for me”.

You stick out your tongue further and slap his cock against it yet again, making sure to put on a full show for him. You let drool fall into your chest, staining the dress you’re currently wearing —and the one you were supposed to use at the birthday dinner tonight— but you don’t do anything about it because you know how much Felix likes that.

“Fuck,” he sighs, guiding the grip on your hair towards his dick, asking you to take him fully inside your mouth. You follow compliantly, because that’s exactly what you want too. “You’re so- fuck, so fucking beautiful”.

Felix has a way with words. He's very vocal at all times, especially when it comes to sex —not a day goes by without him praising and complimenting you. That’s just one of the many ways he shows his love towards you, and he knows how much you love it.

“Since when does your pretty mouth can take me so well?” You hold your breath when your nose hits his pubic bone, drooling all over his cock as he says so. After much fooling around with Felix, your body has grown to know him fairly well, “you’re making me feel so good”.

You take his cock out of your mouth and continue stroking him using your own drool as lubricant, offering him a delicious friction that has him gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until his knuckles turn pale.

Felix does his best to keep his eyes open, staring down at you while you suck on his cock eagerly, demanding something he can only give you. He’s just about to give it to you, but he wants to elongate the moment as much as he possibly can.

“Look at me,” he demands, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “I want to come while looking at your face”.

You're definitely not the best looking right now, with all the drool spilling from your mouth and your eyeliner and mascara smudged, but Felix thinks you've never look prettier. He loves this side of you, the dirty one.

He caresses the side of your face with his thumb, wiping away a few tears running down your cheeks after taking all of his dick inside your mouth. “I love you so much,” Felix quietly moans, his words getting overshadowed by his heavy breathing, but still managing to reach your ears nonetheless. “I love you so- fuck, so fucking much”.

You smile against the tip of his dick and increase the movement of your wrist around him, getting yourself ready for his orgasm —an orgasm that doesn’t take too long to happen, shooting white ropes of cum onto your face and dress while he curses and whimpers your name under his breath.

After a couple of seconds of him overcoming his high, and you licking his arousal up until he’s clean, Felix helps you get up from the floor and kisses you just as deep as earlier, tasting himself off of your tongue.

“I’m fully convinced I want to marry you,” he chuckles against your lips, licking up some of his cum on your chin.

“Well, my hand looks a bit empty without a ring, you know?”

Seungmin: Acts of Service and Quality Time

When you called him, crying over the phone, Seungmin's heart was practically wrenched.

“I’m so- I’m so fucking stressed,” despite his efforts to try and talk to you, asking you what’s wrong, you just couldn’t begin to explain him that there was nothing, specifically, wrong. You just felt overworked and tired because of college, and you were having a hard time handling everything.

“Where are you right now?”

“College campus,” you tell him, trying your best to look collected while crying, sitting on a bench not too far from the main building. “I’m supposed to attend another class in like-”.

“I’m picking you up,” it's not a question nor a proposal. It's an affirmation, one that you're ready to argument.

“No, Seungmin. It’s okay, I-”

“You’re not okay, you’re crying,” his voice is filled with concern, and judged by the noises in the background you can tell he’s walking while on the phone. “Let me take care of you”.

You agree, but feel guilty immediately afterwards once you realize that he probably left everything he was doing just to meet you. You didn’t ask him to, but he showed up a couple of minutes later, picked you up and drove you to your apartment, staring at you from the side every now and then just to see if you were okay.

“I’m sorry,” you exhaled. “I overreacted, I don’t know why I cried like that and I- just wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s really not a big deal. I’m just stressed over college and that’s it”.

“You’re rambling,” he cuts you off, sweetly and delicately as he always does. It’s not that he doesn’t want to listen to you, because he always does, but he knows you have this habit of rambling whenever you’re anxious. “I drove all the way here because I wanted to be with you”.

“Yeah but-”

“Hamburger or pizza?”

“Huh?”

“What are you craving for dinner?” Seungmin has always said he is not very good with emotions, but you disagree —he might not be one to use words, but his actions always speak louder. “I’m craving pizza, but I don’t know if you’re down for that”.

“Pizza is good,” you reply. “But let me- I just want to apologize, really. I feel so fucking silly for throwing a tantrum like a child”.

“Child’s tantrums are way worse,” he interrupts you, but his voice is so soft and delicate that you can barely hear it over your rushed, disorganized speech.

“My point is that I’m sorry for crying on the phone like that. You didn’t need to do all this, and now I feel awful. It’s just college stress, nothing I can’t handle”.

“And my point is that I know you can handle everything, as you always do,” he reassures you, turning to face you at a red light, “but I want to help you handle everything, too. If you call me crying, I don’t see why I can’t rush out to you and take care of you, it doesn’t matter the reason behind those cries”.

There's a lump in your throat that threatens to make you cry again, but this time for all the opposite reasons. You’ve never felt this safe and loved until you met him.

“So pizza it is?”

He drives to your favorite pizza place and orders take out —the sky is getting grey, and the wind is getting chill so he would rather have dinner at the coziness of your apartment. You both eat, unwind, talk about your day prior to meet each other, and enjoy the company that you desperately needed today.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” you inform him after doing the dishes together. “I think it’ll help me sleep better”.

“Mind if I join you?” Seungmin asks you, drying his hands with a small, kitchen towel. “Both to shower and bed”.

It’s not every day you get to sleep in the very same bed as him, so you agree without thinking it twice. Knowing you’ll get to spend the night with him makes you forget about all the daily stress already, so you’re grateful he’s sharing his time with you.

“Close your eyes,” he warns you with a smile and hands full with shampoo foam. You follow his order compliantly, and the next thing you feel are his hands massaging your scalp and hair with shampoo. “Close them!”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle, closing them immediately afterwards. “I just want to see you”.

“Let me rinse this off, alright?” he guides you underneath the shower faucet and starts wiping away all the foam, delicately caressing your face while the water rinses off a whole day of stress. “Don’t open them yet, or else it’ll sting”.

It’s practically impossible to ignore his touch and body pressing against yours throughout the whole interaction, and he probably notices this too —your nipples are hard, both from the stimulation and the feeling of warm water running through your body, and you can’t help but whimper every time they rub against his bare chest.

“There,” Seungmin murmurs, encouraging you to open your eyes. The first thing you see is his gaze underneath his dark, wet hair, followed by bright smile.

You tip toe a bit to reach his pink lips, and you leave a wet peck in the corner of them. A quick, single kiss that makes Seungmin’s bright smile turn into a flirty, soft smirk.

He brushes a few wet strands of hair away from your face, and caresses your skin while tilting his head. You know he wants this, just as much as you want it too, but he probably felt too scared to make the first move, considering the wholesome moment you were sharing.

“Can I?” he’s leaning over you, with both of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips dangerously close to yours.

“Please,” you nod, closing your eyes even before you felt him kissing you.

It starts of slow, but gets gradually deeper as he holds you tightly against him; the water is still running, but it feels ten times warmer now.

“I don’t want to ruin the moment like this,” you whisper, feeling your heart racing, “but I really want you to fuck me”.

“How could that ruin the moment?” Seungmin chuckles, guiding his hands to your ass.

“I don't know, you're being so sweet to me and all I can imagine is how it would feel to have you deep inside me right now,” you confess, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to imagine it, you know?” his hands guide you to turn around on your feet, and he presses his chest against your back until you’re trapped between him and the wall. You can feel his erection against your ass, and that alone has your pussy clenching around nothing, wishing it was his cock you were clenching around. “If you want, I can fuck you right here”.

You feel him kissing and nibbling at the skin on your shoulders and neck, and you immediately melt between his arms, “I want you”.

You can’t see him but, once he guides his hand to your core and feels your wetness, the soft scoff he lets out tells you he’s probably amused by your neediness. “You’re all ready for me, hm?”

You press your cheek against the cold, wall tiles, and arch your back a bit more —just enough to allow him a better access to your pussy. He places one hand on your hip, while the other guides the tip of his cock to your cunt, teasing your folds and rubbing it against your clit.

“Please fuck me,” you whine, laying both of your palms flat against the white tiles.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he latches his lips to your neck and the next thing you feel is a sudden stretch between your legs. You let out a painful moan, as you’re definitely not used to have him fucking you while standing.

It’s a challenge, really. The second you felt him entering you, your legs threatened to give up on your weight.

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin hisses once he bottoms out, feeling your walls hugging him tightly. He can feel how tense you are, trying hard to hold on to anything to prevent you from falling, “I’ll hold you tight, won’t let go of you, okay?”

You nod, barely frantically, and relax on the spot. You trust him Seungmin wholeheartedly, so you get completely carried away by the feeling of his cock hitting the right spot inside your pussy.

He reaches his hand forward, into the small space between your abdomen and the wall, and guides his fingers towards your clit, rubbing it gently while fucking you.

“J-just like that,” you moan. “I’m- I’m getting close”.

“Yeah?,” Seungmin purrs, managing to keep the pace between his thrusts and his fingers. “Come for me, then”.

You blame it on all the time you spent without being able to fuck with him because of your schedules, but truth is that Seungmin always makes you come really fast. He knows your body well enough by now, and he pleases you like no one has before. And could he not be? If he has spent hours and hours touching you, eating you out and fucking you so he can be the best at pleasing you.

“Seungmin,” you gasp, feeling your legs shaking and your mind dizzy. If you let go, you’re sure your face is going to meet the floor.

But, as if he could read your mind, he wraps his arm around you and holds you right in place, giving you all the support you needed. “Now,” he moans, “you can come”.

You finally let go between his arms, pressing your face against the wall while Seungmin takes care of everything —from helping you ride your high, to keep you standing on your feet.

He holds you while you overcome your orgasm, feeling your heart beats and the way you breath. He is close to coming as well, but you’re always his priority in moments like this.

Always so caring and sweet.

Jeongin: Physical Touch and Gifts

[19:28, You: I’m here]

[19:28, You: Where are you?]

You stare at the big, white letters on top of the entrance of the store, and you can begin to guess what this urgent meeting is all about. It’s not the first time you visit it, and it is most definitely not going to be the last, you think.

There are a couple of people inside, people who make you feel as if you’re underdressed to go jewelry shopping —not that you had clothes to match the ocassion, but you didn’t expect to end your day standing outside one of Seoul’s most expensive stores.

“Hey!” Jeongin greets you from inside, smiling widely once he spots you. He walks towards you and the brightness in his eyes tells you that he's most definitely excited about something.

“What is it?” you immeditaly asked, catching his smile.

“I stopped by and I wanted to gift you something,” he grabs your hand and guides you inside the store, following a path and turning around every other table until you reach the jewels in exhibition he’s excited about, “I didn’t know which one you liked best, and I tried to take a picture of them but the camera didn’t make them any justice”.

“What’s the occasion?”

“You,” Jeongin tilts his head. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know, and these are the most beautiful necklaces I’ve seen in my entire life. Is only fair for you to have them”.

“I don’t- These are too expensive,” you furrow your eyebrows, not knowing the final price of each and confident you're better off without that information.

“So?”

“I can’t accept one,” you shake your head. Your eyes encounter an emerald and diamond necklace that’s too stunning it caught your attention —Jeongin has good taste, you have to give him that.

But said taste it’s also very expensive, so you’re not sure that works out.

“What about all of them?”

Your eyes widen in shock, and you playfully hit him in the arm, “you’re so unserious!”

“I mean it,” the dark-haired smiles, tilting his head at you. “Either you pick the one you like the most, or I’ll buy all of them for you”.

Jeongin never gifts you things expecting anything in return —if anything, the only thing he expects when he buys you jewelry, or clothes, or anything, is that you put them to use.

You’re still not used to this kind of love language, but he tries everything to make you feel comfortable.

“Are you sure?” you hesitate, and he nods eagerly, wondering which one is the one you like best. “That one, the one with the emerald”.

“Pretty,” he smiles, “just like you”.

He takes care of the bill, and you keep on staring at the rest of the jewelry exhibited around the store. To be honest, you’re curious about the price, but you’d rather stay ignorant than feeling guilty about the money he spends on you.

Then, Jeongin sees you admiring a bracelet for quite some time, and he makes a mental note to go back and buy it for you on the next occasion. He knows love can be expressed in many, many ways, but a gift is never out of place.

“Let’s go back to my place, yeah?” he asks you, grabbing your hand as you walk through the mall. “I can pick up dinner and we can spend the night together, what do you say?”

“Sounds good to me,” you smile, trying to keep up the pace with his long legs.

Once you get home, and you unwind together, Jeongin brings the small, white bag with the red, velvet box inside it. You saw the necklace on your way to his apartment, but you didn’t try it on.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, admiring the shine of it from every angle. “I’m not- sure how to style it”.

“Pretty sure you’ll find a way,” Jeongin smiles with his eyes fixed on the jewel. “You make everything look pretty”.

“Thank you,” your gaze meets his, and you can tell how sincere and genuine he is. Your heart skips a bit when you spot that spark in his eyes again, and your curiosity makes you question him once again. “What?”

“Let me put it on you,” he tells you, standing up from the dinner table and walking towards you, taking away the velvet box off of your hands, “come here”.

You follow him into his room, that’s barely illuminated because of the street lights and a small lamp on top of his nightstand. You stand in front of a big, full-length mirror, and he stands right behind you, holding the necklace with one of his hands while he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“Wait, just let me-,” he motions for you fix your hair out of the way, and once you’re done he he places the necklace around you. “There”.

The necklace is very, very pretty on you. So pretty that, for a minute, you completely forget about the outfit you’re wearing, and how it doesn’t match Jeongin’s gift at all.

“Thank you,” you chant again, caressing the jewel as you watch it become your most prized possession. “It’s just- beautiful. I don’t want to take it off, ever”.

“Then don’t,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your naked shoulder. “Wear it all the time, let everyone know who gave it to you”.

You turn around on your feet and wrap your arms around his neck with a cheeky smile. “What for?”

“So everyone can know you’re mine,” his siren eyes are staring deep into yours, and that alone is enough to arouse you. Not only that, but the implied possessiveness under these kind of gifts is making you feel some kind of way.

“Everyone knows I am yours already,” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss. “I don’t need to wear a necklace for that”.

“But it’s fun, isn’t it?” Jeongin asks you, “everytime you feel the necklace around your neck, you can think of those times where my hands have done the job”.

You feel the heat rising up to your cheeks almost immediately, and you wonder if he can tell.

“The necklace is very pretty, but you like my hands way more, don’t you?” again, the filthy question makes you a bit timid, but you still nod.

“See? I don’t need expensive jewels to be happy,” you chuckle softly, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He responds the kiss with one much more steamy, one that actually makes you gasp for air in between.

“So what is it that you need, hm?” he teases you, cupping either side of your face with his big hands.

“You know what,” the complicit smile on your lips is the consent Jeongin needs to guide his hand from your face to your neck, squeezing it slightly as he applies pressure to the sides of it. The harder he chokes you, the wider you smile.

“Is this enough to make you happy?” judged by his cold gaze, and the deeper tone of his voice, you know you have Jeongin exactly where you want him.

“I’m missing something else,” you quietly murmur, just as much as his grip around your neck allows you to. “Can you give it to me?”

“What is it that you’re missing?” he asks you, a twisted smile peeking through the corners of his lips, “tell me, and I’ll give it to you”.

Jeongin knows exactly what you’re talking about, and what you’re referring to, but he menas every word he says. If there’s something you’re missing, he’d travel the whole world just to give it to you. If there’s something you want, all you have to do is ask.

“Your cock,” you finally tell him.

In the blink of an eye, you’re both naked in his bed and he’s hovering over you, positioning himself between your legs while he bites his bottom lip. You’re still wearing the necklace, as a request for him, and it feels somewhat heavy on your chest. It will probably weight heavy from now on, everytime you wear it, because it will remind you of how good of a lover Jeongin is to you.

“It looks so good on you,” he hisses, coating the tip of his cock with your slick. You’re so slippery, and warm, and inviting that he can’t spend another second without being buried deep inside your pussy. “You- look so good like this, with your legs spread for me”.

You moan at his words, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing him to bottom out inside you, desperately wanting to feel all of himself.

“F-fuck”.

“So tight,” Jeongin whispers, closing his eyes while assimilating the stimulation your body provides.

He starts off slow and only goes rougher once he’s sure you’re ready for it. He wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you while fucking your pussy, admiring the diamond resting on top of your bouncing breasts.

The necklace is even prettier like this, he thinks.

“Right there,” you gasp, closing your eyes shut while your orgasm hits you unexpectedly. You writhe underneath him, digging your nails on his biceps. He fucks you even faster through your orgasm, making you spill a tear or two —not only he is a good lover, but he fucks oh, so well too.

You moan his name over and over again, thanking him in between. The ravages of your high are hitting you, as well as the painful overstimulation, but you don’t want him to stop. You want him to come inside you, to fill you up until he’s leaking out; however Jeongin has other plans in mind.

“Can I- come, on you?”

You’re not sure what he means, as he usually finishes inside you, but you still nod desperately, wanting whatever it is that he wants.

So he thrusts himself inside you a couple of times before pulling out, kneeling over you while stroking his cock and driving himself to his orgasm. You stare at him with dreamy eyes, aroused by the heavenly sight he’s offering you —there’s something enticing about his facial features when he comes, how they sharpen and his eyes get pitch black.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he comes over your breasts, spilling his hot cum all over them and the necklace.

You didn’t understand his petition until now, that you realize the diamond is covered with his arousal, glistening even brighter under the dim lights of his room.

“You made a mess,” you chuckle, staring at your tits.

“I just wanted to make sure you're going to remember who gave you this”.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut

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wakkass · 7 months

Text

It's impossible to put into words how much I love designing characters, especially for AU.

Yes, I recently had an avatar AU, and I really wanted to draw Katara from there (and also Zuko). I usually draw a static pose in order to display all the details of the clothes. This is such a kind of character sheet that helps me to better imagine the scenes in my head.

If you're interested in reading about the AU itself, then there will be some information about it.

I apologize in advance for mistakes in the text, English is not my native language. But, I hope, this will not interfere with understanding.

In general, my AU concerns the ending of the series, because at some point it seemed unrealistic to me. There is too much positivity with the obvious problems of the post-military space, as well as little logic in some moments (for example, I don't understand what Zuko was doing in Ba Sing Se. Did he abandon his newfound throne to the mercy of fate with the risk of a palace coup? Did he not feel the effects of a lightning strike? The longer I think about it, the surreal it seems to me).

At some point I thought, "this is all like Aang's dream, in which everything is intentionally good. As if this is the ending he wants, but it's unattainable." And then it dawned on me. But it really looks like his fantasy about the future after defeating the root of evil. This explains why Zuko recovered so easily, why everyone is just relaxing and having fun without a drop of post-trauma. Because Aang wants everything to be so naive and simple after defeating the Fire Lord. Because he's dreaming about it.

I know this is a very hackneyed narrative technique. It's pretty easy to say "this is someone's dream" to deny any events. But I found it curious, especially against the background of the episode "Nightmares and Daydreams", where Aang's dreams already simplified the reality around him. For me, it's like a lead-up to the finale, where he actually sleeps.

You ask, "but why is he sleeping?". I also asked this question, and the answer to it killed me. Because during the battle with Ozai, when the stone hit Aang in the wound, he fell into a coma. His body was paralyzed because his brain perceived it as a repeated lightning strike, again fatal. The avatar's state was the only one that did not allow Aang to die, but only to fall into a coma. And instead of an epic battle, we have a little helpless boy spending a huge amount of energy just to maintain his life.

The second Aang collapsed, he disappeared, leaving Ozai alone with the remnants of his temporary power. And no one else saw the avatar…

I'll leave the intrigue for you about this, but for now I'll tell you about the concepts from the art.

Naturally, everyone searched for Aang, and, naturally, they did not find him. Katara and Zuko were the only ones who did not participate in the search, for several reasons:

Zuko was rehabilitated for a very long time after being struck by lightning, and Katara nursed him (I'm sure there are a lot of fics about this topic. The only difference is that there is no romance here. The focus of my AU is not on it, but on the problems of the consequences of the war). He survived, but he had major problems with his heart, digestive system and spine. Who noticed the cane in his hands? Yes, Zuko couldn't walk without it. From now on and forever. He was physically unable to leave the palace, and Katara maintained at least some of his condition.

Even after Zuko's rehabilitation, it was necessary to keep the power in his hands. Imagine what a shock the Fire Nation experienced when not just the former Fire Lord was overthrown, but the country's policy changed dramatically. Now Zuko needed to keep power in his hands and establish a new regime as soon as possible, before his opponents raised armies and people against him. This boy, who recently sat quietly at a military meeting, needed to show unprecedented strength and power to everyone: both officials sought to turn the situation in their favor, and the people who wanted stability and prosperity. But how to do this if Zuko couldn't even breathe normally, and getting out of bed required tremendous effort? It was impossible… Anyone else would have given up, but not Zuko. He has never given up without a fight and has never turned his back on danger, even if he risks dying.

It hurts me a lot for him, too. Fate has never stopped pushing Zuko against obstacles, but this time he couldn't rely on himself. He almost couldn't bend, his body almost didn't obey. He was an easy target and there was nothing he could do about it. This helplessness irritated him, saddened him, oppressed him. The only thing that wasn't broken yet was his spirit, and Zuko was barely able to maintain it in such conditions. If it wasn't for Katara, I don't know if he would have coped in the end. She was now his only support, his only ally in these cold oppressive walls, the only rational grain in his doubts.

You ask, "Where is Iroh? Where is Mai?"

Iroh, along with the White Lotus, took on a mission to liberate the Earth Kingdom from the Fire Army and establish relations with the kingdom. In fact, Iroh now shared power with Zuko: uncle was engaged in foreign policy so that his nephew could focus on domestic policy.

With Mai, everything was much simpler: after getting out of prison, she was completely disappointed in the guy who always left her. She sent him a letter, where she finally ended their relationship, and left with her family somewhere far away. Perhaps she and Zuko will cross paths again and will be able to establish a relationship. But not now.

Katara remained to help Zuko not only with treatment, but also with his policy. As a resident of an almost disappearing tribe, as well as an able leader, she helped him with projects and plans to improve the quality of life of the population and actively participates in them. She performed those missions that Zuko can only entrust to her. After all, she was a friend he could rely on and to whom he could open his feelings.

In her design, I wanted to reflect the combination of two cultures: Fire and Water. I was based on the designs of the "12 Kingdoms" (if you haven't watched this gorgeous anime or haven't read ranobe, I strongly recommend doing it. This universe is no less interesting than the avatar's world, I'm sure you'll like it), because the palace intrigues and the plot with winning the respect of the court reminds me very much of the story from there.

One day Zuko's legs finally gave up, he could not get up. All the stress he was going through was breaking his body so much that at some point the Katara's treatment stopped working.

It was a very difficult moment for both of them. Zuko has just started to promote his ideas and defend his rights to the throne, and Katara sincerely did not know what to do. If the truth about the true state of the Fire Lord had come out, all the ill-wishers would not leave this opportunity and attack, this couldn't be allowed. They urgently needed to create the appearance that everything is in order, but how?

Zuko came up with a very brazen idea. He asked Katara to use bloodbending on him to simulate walking. It was a very difficult request for her, because this skill represented the worst face of the war, it was created to torture people. And the last thing she wanted was to torment Zuko. She hesitated for a long time, he saw it, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't stop, it wasn't a luxury he could afford. Therefore, he went out, trying not to get up and move much.

Naturally, at some point his weakness was noticed at the most inopportune moment. Naturally, at this moment Katara couldn't let Zuko fall. Imperceptibly under her sleeves, she moved her friend's body like a puppet, causing him as much unbearable pain as most would not stand. But Zuko was not like that. He stood it.

It looked like this to me somehow:

They were both very depressed that day. He was suffering physically because of Katara's bending, and she could not believe that she had caused the suffering of a person dear to her. It broke and scared her, she opened the way to the Hama's madness, and was very afraid to fall into it.

Zuko assured her that it was impossible. Hama didn't have people to guide her, while Katara has friends. Maybe Zuko didn't consider himself the best moral mentor, but he promised to be there in the most difficult moments for Katara, and now he won't leave her.

This encouraged her and opened her eyes to her own cowardice. She was afraid of the darkness of Hama, and instead of curbing it, Katara hid it in herself, ignored it. And that's what it led to: the person who needed her help suffered. But she didn't want to run away anymore. She wasn't going to give up without a fight and turn her back on those who needed her.

At the beginning, Katara trained on herself, experiencing the same pain as the victims of bloodbending. Careless movement of blood through the vessels could cause internal bleeding at any time, it was very dangerous. The Hama's voice in her head pressed on her conscience, saying that innocent people felt all this pain, and only Katara was to blame for this.

Later, she learned to control the flow of water on puppets, like Hama. The point was to pass water through the threads without bursting them. Absolute control was required here, and Zuko taught her the techniques of firebending for self-control. This was necessary for Katara, because the Hama's voice in her head did not subside and did not allow her to correctly distribute her forces. It seemed like Katara was about to stumble, but Zuko wouldn't let her do it.

Gradually, Katara mastered this skill and tried to draw blood on Zuko's legs. The effect was unexpected. Her great willpower and desire to help him resulted in healing. Zuko began to feel his legs, and Katara discovered the reverse side of this bending. No, she didn't heal him completely, it's too early for him to get rid of the cane. But maybe one day she will become so strong that she can do it.

Katara realized that there was no evil magic, there was only evil intent. This was her first step towards learning to look inner demons in the face, and not to hide them in herself when it was possible to hurt others.

But what about the other design?

Katara's father sent her a letter asking her to return. Her family needed her help, because she was the last waterbender, a carrier of culture and skills, as well as a healer of a new level, the daughter of a tribal leader.

At home, everything was not the same as before, moreover, everything taked shape as a Northern Tribe. I really like the idea of the comic "North and South" about the problem of assimilation. Only here has Katara accepted all aspects of its culture, even the most unpleasant ones, and she would not give up so easily when this newfound knowledge was in danger of disappearing.

Actually, I wanted to draw her outfit of this arch. I wanted to redesign the costume for myself, because I like to do it. I kept the front strands of Katara, we don't talk much about them.

I would really like to describe the path of the rest of the team and what they do, of Aang and what happens to him. But I'm already tired of typing, and you probably read.

After all, the post is more about designs, and not about the AU itself, so the goal to reveal some of my ideas has been achieved in principle. Maybe sometime later.

Hope you enjoyed reading this :3

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #atla fanart #atla au #avatar fanart #katara #zuko

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cosmos-coma · 2 months

Text

My Sun, My Star- Epilogue

A/N: Hello! This is just a short little scene I thought would be sweet! Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments and reblogs and a BIG THANK YOU for the astounding 130+ followers I gained from this series alone! You guys are wonderful!!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader / Winter soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 665

Warnings: None! just fluff :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Bucky Masterlist

Buy me a Coffee?

_____

“Come on- let us see..!” Sam urged as he tried to peer around the Soldier’s broad shoulders, only for your Star to turn his back on him again. Even Natasha was trying to get in on the fun and see her honorary niece. She had a mission to become the coolest aunt on the team and she had to start right away to get ahead of the others.

“No.” The Winter Soldier simply answered, easily side-stepping and maneuvering around their advances.

He was too busy staring down at your daughter Selene’s little sleeping face. He had barely wanted to give her up since she arrived a day ago and refused to let her go for anyone who was not yourself. You only smiled and shook your head. You knew he was just trying to soak up his time with her while he still could.

But this time you didn’t feel sad as you knew the end of his time was drawing near. Your eyes did not pool with tears and your voice did not quiver because in the short weeks before your pregnancy came to a close you and Bucky had been talking. You wanted to see how he felt about maybe letting the Winter Soldier out a little more often, or perhaps just not pushing back quite as hard when he needed him. It didn’t have to be for days or weeks on end, but something to make sure he didn’t get lost in the background again, to make sure he knew he had people waiting for him. And while you and Bucky hadn’t actually gotten around to making a firm agreement you’d like to see him try to deny you after today. Between giving birth in a safe house and the heroic actions of the former assassin, you don’t think he’d have the heart to say no to your request.

“Y/n, tell your boyfriend I want to see the newest member of the team…” Sam turned to you with defeat written in his frown as he failed to get a good look.

“And I need to become the cool aunt before Wanda gets a chance to show off her magic,” Natasha chimed in as she tried to fake him out- it didn’t work.

You held your hands up, “I’m afraid it’s out of my hands guys… You’ll just have to wait your turn like everyone else.”

“Wow… and here I thought we were friends,” Sam joked as he shook his head before going back in for a few more tries.

“And to think I made you my famous pancakes…”

You laughed as they were blocked at every turn, it honestly didn’t even look like the Soldier was trying too hard either. Still, Your heart shone rays of joy as you laid back in the comfy chair of the tower, enjoying the entertainment before you as you took your own time to soak up moments with your beloved star.

On the way back from the safe house you had told him about the talks that you and Bucky had. You could see before he even said a word that he was beyond excited to know he would see both of you again. The way his eyes widened ever so slightly, the way the corners of his mouth fought beyond their better judgment to crack a smack smile, his expression said it all. You reminded him that nothing had been settled yet, but he couldn’t care less about that, he just had only one request:

“Yes, my star?”

He smiled, a little less awkward now as he gained practice, “Promise me you’ll take photos when I’m not there, okay?” he looked down at her as he spoke, his hopeful smile shining down as she lay in your arms, “Promise me that I’ll still get to be a part of every single moment, okay?”

Your heart melted and you smiled softly, “Of course, My Star… You’ll be with us every step of the way.”

_______

Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity@simpxinnie@goldylions@mirtaqueen@blackhawkfanatic@mcira@aagn360@nialiuwanderlust@waywardhunter95 @hsllfirescoops

Thanks to everyone who wanted to be tagged this chapter! If you want to be added to the general Bucky taglist please DM me!

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lila-lou · 2 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 6/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2515

A/N: This is part 6 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You could both hear Frenchie, but neither you nor Ben wanted to be the one to look away first. Be the one to give in. For once, Frenchie realized he was out of place a little quicker than usual and ran away before things got too messy.

“I definitely don’t have to fucking justify myself to you. I'm fucking Soldier Boy. I don’t have to justify myself to anyone”, he stood in front of you with broad shoulders and looked down at you.

“That’s not the point”, you raised your voice, but you were put in your place faster than you would have liked. With his forearm on your chest, he pushed you against the wall next to the door.

Once again he was portrayed as the bad guy, even though all he wanted to do was help. Wanted to do the right thing. Ben thought you were different, that you saw something good in him, but obviously he was wrong.

“I think i went too soft on you. Know your fucking place or I’ll make you”, he growled threateningly, fixing his gaze on you for a moment longer. He shook his head pathetically, the corners of his mouth hanging as he heard your heart start to race. “Fucking pathetic. Like all fucking women”, he hissed, releasing you with a firm jerk.

Ben had to protect you both. Despite all the hate and anger within him, or perhaps because of it, he still behaved like a soldier.

He had to protect you from losing your life because of him or his actions, and he had to protect himself from being abandoned and disappointed by a woman again. He wouldn't let something like the the thing with the Russians happen again. Whatever made him want more from you, than your mouth around his cock, wouldn't be allowed from now on.

It was Annie who broke the silence between the two of you by entering the room. “Hey (y/n). How are you doing? How you feeling?”, she gently stroked your forearm. Your eyes stayed on Ben for a moment, but he fled, leaving the two of you alone.

"Good. I guess”, you mumbled, watching Ben leave.

Annie pressed her lips together as she saw your longing look. “Nuh-uh… (y/n)… Seriously. You don’t want this, trust me”, she sighed, looking at you with pity. “He’s not one of the good guys”.

“I don’t know what you mean” you murmur, wrapping your amre around your torso. Lost in thought, you chewed on your bottom lip as you continued to look at the door to the room.

“Mhmm, sure. Now try again”, Annie murmured.

Your eyes met Annie's and unfortunately revealed too much of what was going on. Feelings, that you neither could nor wanted to place, were boiling inside you.

Shaking your head slightly, you sighed, thanked Annie for looking out for your well-being, but then left the room.

After a long shower, you slipped into fresh clothes and walked past the living room, where Ben and the others were sitting, to leave the apartment. “Oi, where are you going?”, Butcher called to you, craning his head. A football game was playing in the background. “Just out. I need some fresh air”, you crossed your arms and looked into the living room from the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea”, Butcher replied, putting his beer on the table. "Should I come with you?", Annie looked at you.

Ben was listening to your discussion about whether or not you should go out alone, but he acted as if his attention was just on the television.

“I’m a Supe now. What’s going to happen?”, you shrugged, earning a snide mockery from Ben. “You have something to say, huh?”. You narrow your eyes at Ben, who is sipping his bottle of whiskey. “Oh, absolutely not, Dollfface. Go out and have fun”, he gave you a fake smile. Butcher looked at the two of you and knew something was off. Why would Ben react like that to what you just said? But he couldn't put his finger on it. “All fucking amateurs”, Ben chuckled, standing up with his whiskey. Before he walked past you into his room, he stopped right in front of you and leaned so close that his lips touched your ear. “You'll notice soon”, he whispered, winking at you and leaving you confused.

“See you later”, you mumbled after a while to Butcher and left the apartment.

Ben should have told you, but he didn't. He didn't even know why. It would have been much safer for you to know.

You walked through the dark and empty streets, lost in thought, for over two hours. Aside from desperately trying to discover your abilities, you were busy trying to understand Ben's behavior. One moment he was kissing you, the next he was treating you like a worthless piece of shit. He had saved your life, but he was also the one who had put it in danger. You felt like you were hanging on a rope that he tightened or loosened at will.

But what did you actually want? In any case, you didn't want to be a Supe. Never. And now you have the crap. And then the whole thing with Ben. It felt like you hadn't had any other topic on your mind for weeks than him. It wasn't that you were in love with him, but rather that you tried to find justification in all of his actions, despite your actual dislike for Supes. Not seeing him as the bad guy. Like Annie. Or the others. You knew there was something good in him somewhere, even if he really didn't make it easy for you to stick to your beliefs. Despite your best efforts, you just couldn't put your finger on what made you so attached to Ben. Of course you had a similar sense of humor, often similar opinions and views and of course Ben was really good looking. But that wasn´t enough for… You couldn't even finish your thought, and probably wouldn't have wanted to, when suddenly someone landed on the floor behind you. With a force that almost knocked you to the ground.

“Well, look at that. Who do we have here?”. The Supe puts his hands on his hips behind you. “What is a beautiful young woman like you doing here all alone?”. Your breath hitched as you turned around to make sure it was who you thought it was. After you had been looking for him for months and there was no greater mission than to finally catch him alone and take him prisoner, the son of a bitch just stood in front of you.

"Are you speechless?", Homelander cocked his head to the side before taking a few steps towards you. You needed to somehow regain your nerve. “Homelander. Wow. What an honor”, you accomplished your acting masterpiece and bowed slightly. "Mhmm, all nice and polite. Well-bred. I’m almost thrilled”, he gave you a bright smile. “Of course you know who I am, but would you like to tell me your name?”, he was now standing directly in front of you. You knew that even as Supe you wouldn't stand a chance against Homelander. “(y/n)”, you said, quieter than you planned as his scent invaded your nose. Normally you wouldn't be so awkward and intimidated around Supes, but Homelander was different. Not only was he stronger than all the other Supes, he was also crazier.

“Pretty name, pretty girl. But seriously. Don't you know how dangerous it is out here this late? With the psychopath Soldier Boy on the loose”, he shook his head and clicked his tongue. You almost raised an eyebrow at his statement, but you stopped yourself at the last moment. He of all people said Ben was a psychopath.

“Oh, I'm a Supe too, it's okay. But thanks”, you waved and were about to leave, but Homelander’s laughter stopped you. "You? A supe? Hardly, darling. I can smell your human blood from miles away. Not to mention your off heartbeat”, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes met and as a cold shiver of the bad kind ran down your spine, Homelander's pupils moved quickly and repeatedly left and right as his eyes narrowed. It seemed like he was trying to concentrate. His mouth opened and he raised a finger before putting it thoughtfully to his lips.

With much effort, Homelander could hear the Compound V in your blood and feel it pulsating under his hand on your shoulder. But it wasn't pure V. It was mixed. He frowned in confusion and surprise. And from one second to the next his expression was ice cold. How could you be alive with compound V in your blood and still be human? What were you?

"Who did this? Why are you still alive?", he pulled on your arm so hard that it almost broke. As shocked as you were, there was absolutely nothing you could do. Especially not when Homelander grabbed your jaw and squeezed it tight. "Answer me!", he roared before being thrown backwards with great force.

When you turned around, you saw Ben. Well, the pissed off version of Ben. With quick and heavy steps, he walked determinedly towards Homelander, who stood up again within seconds. "You did that!". He knew as soon as he recognized Soldier Boy. “If you want to fight, then fucking fight! But do like a man and stop scaring little girls, like a little pussy”, Ben hissed and swung his shield, but only hit the street, which immediately opened up as Homelander quickly turned to the side. "What was your plan?", Homelander looked at Ben with his crazy eyes and wide grin. Ben swung again, but missed his target again. “Did you want to equate her with us and it didn’t work? Maybe I should try it".

That was all Ben needed to escalate. With anger flaring within him, he lunged at Homelander and started a actual fight. Meanwhile, trying to ignore your dizziness and racing heart, you fished your phone out of your pocket and called Butcher.

"We'll be right there, darling", Butcher grinned on the other end of the line before gathering the others and heading out.

The minutes before Butcher and the others arrived seemed like hours. And all you could do was watch helplessly as Ben and Homelander beat each other to death.

However, when Ben was on the floor with Homelander on top of him and you saw Homelander's eyes start to glow red, you knew you had to do something. Ben’s chest began to glow too, but you knew he wouldn’t recharge in time. As if guided by an invisible force, you grabbed the nearest stick from the ground, run towards the two of them and ram the stick into Homelander's ear. He roared, fell to the ground and while you were still on top of Ben and his burning chest, Ben pushed you away with all his strength before finally exploding.

It was a blessing that Butcher showed up at that exact moment and with great difficulty catched you before you hit the ground. While Annie sprinted off with Hughie to find Homelander, Butcher handed you off to MM before he and Kimiko ran into the cloud of dust surrounding Soldier Boy.

“It’s okay, I can stand”, you murmured. MM carefully lowered you to the ground, keeping an eye on you as you frantically asked about Ben. You started to run, but Frenchie stopped you with a hug from behind. “Wait”, he murmured and like MM, looked expectantly at the dust that was slowly but surely dissipating.

It seemed like you couldn't catch your breath until you saw Ben walking towards you. As always, unharmed. When he arrived with Butcher and Kimiko, he brushed the dust off his suit and looked around. “Fucking pussy. Hiding somewhere”, he cursed under his breath as he continued to look out for Homelander, not noticing how his arm had found its way around your waist. He held you protectively, just inches away from his body as he scanned the entire area. Butcher looked at the two of you thoughtfully, but was brought out of his thoughts by Kimiko, who nudged him with her elbow as Hughie and Annie returned. “There’s no sign of Homelander", Hughie announced between heavy breaths. "Fucking amazing!”, Butcher cursed loudly and hit the nearest lantern so hard that it fell over and shattered with a loud crack.

As Butcher and Hughie discussed what to do, you only now became aware of Ben's tight grip on your body. You looked up at him, breathless. Only when your eyes met did he lower his arm and take a step away from you.

A few minutes later you were in the backseat of Hughie's car with Ben. Annie at the wheel and Hughie in the passenger seat.

“How did you even know where I was?”, You looked sideways at Ben as he swallowed a few pills so he wouldn’t have to endure all this shit sober anymore. “Don’t bother”, he murmured, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, hoping you would let the subject go. “The fuck, Ben. Why can’t you just talk to me?”, you raised both hands angrily. "Why can't you just shut the fuck up?", he replied monotonously, his eyes still closed.

You just groaned in annoyance because you knew he wouldn't tell you anything in front of Annie and Hughie anyway. His moods would probably give you whiplash at some point.

When you got home, you wanted nothing more than to fall into your soft and warm bed and forget the last 3 days. Unfortunately, Butcher had other plans. First he wanted to discuss what had just happened.

The meeting went slowly. And while Ben could at least get drunk and snort one line after another, you had to endure it all sober and tired. You felt like you were at marriage counseling as Butcher paced in front of you and the couch, you answered questions, and Ben either sniffed oder drank.

When Butcher finally left you alone after almost an hour, you followed Ben into his room.

“(y/n). Seriously. What the fuck do you want?”, He groaned in annoyance as he sank onto his bed and you closed the door behind him.

“I wanted to thank you. For saving my life. Again”, you sighed, dropping your hands. “And", you walked over to him and sat down onto the bed next to Ben. “I want to know what all the Supe Blood stuff means. Homelander said I wasn't a Supe. What am I? What have you done to me, Ben?”.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 7

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #hughie campbell #homelander

182 notes · View notes

xxblairexxss · 8 months

Text

Supersede p.3

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Word count : 4k

I went through this a couple of times, even deleted half of the paragraph and rewrite it back but I still feel like something’s missing. Probably because I kept on jumping from one timeline to the other one because I have to finish this one in one part. 😔

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flash

The roaring cheer from the crowd filled up the pit lane soon as Charles hopped off his car that was parked in front of the board, which had number 1 on it. It was his 10th podium in his career in Formula 1. The adrenaline was over the head. Charles had the brightest smile glued to his face as he waved to the crowd.

"My bracelet?" Charles waited for another piece of his bracelet while he slipped on the last piece of ring that Joris handed. "Joris, where’s the other one?"

"I think Leona took it?" He claimed, checking on his pockets. "Which one was it?"

"The one with black and white. Please ask Leona to give it back. I need it." He mentioned that before getting into the centre, he was once again greeted with a cheer from the crowd.

"Charles! Congratulations on your 10th pole position in your career."

"Thank you, thank you so much. It was a very tough qualifying, and everyone did so well."

Charles came to find Joris, who seemed to be engaging in a conversation with his girlfriend back in the garage after he was done with the photo session.

"Give me back my bracelet."

"Let me wear it for a while." She hid her arms at the back of her waist and giggled when Charles looked defeated. She always found it adorable how he always gave in and let her win in anything.

"Just please give it back when you are done with it."

"It’s just a bracelet? I can even make a new one for you." She rolled her eyes.

"I don’t want you to make a new one; just give it back. It’s a gift from someone."

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"Oh my! Are you okay?" You shrieked.

The idea of taking a picture on the bridge where you could capture the bits of the water ride in your background turned out to be a bad idea when you were drenched head to toe the moment you clicked on the selfie button on your phone.

The picture still made you giggle every time you looked at it. Instead of smiling, Jake and you had your eyes closed, and you could see the big splash of water that was about a drop away from hitting both of you. It was a picture that you could send to be included in those "pictures that were taken a minute before a disaster’ Tiktok videos.

"Having fun?" Dean asked.

"Yeah! Look at this!" You exclaimed. Dean gazed at the picture on your phone and burst out laughing.

"What happened?"

"We didn’t know the water could reach us, and we ended up drenched." You cackled and were about to head upstairs when Dean called you out.

"Charles left you your favourite ice cream. He was waiting for you to come back, but something came up literally 15 minutes ago, I think. So he had to leave." The screen showed a goal celebration from the opponent, making Dean grumble in frustration. "What even was my goalkeeper doing, bro?"

"It must be his girlfriend." You mumbled.

"Yeah, I think so too." You weren’t expecting him to hear you. "He has been a little distant now, hasn’t he?"

"What was his girlfriend like?"

He frowned and paused the match. "Can you come here and talk? I can barely hear you, silly. I’m losing this match because I can’t focus."

Rolling your eyes, you threw yourself on the couch as he went back to the game. "His girlfriend was a little; I don’t know how to say this in the nicest way possible. She seemed to have the upper hand in the relationship."

"Is she nice?" You muttered and flinched when he shouted.

"Why didn’t you pass? This is bullshit. Sorry, what were you saying? Oh, I don’t know." He jumped in his seat when the ball nearly went into the net.

"What do you mean you don’t know?"

"She was ignoring me the whole dinner. I was invisible, I think. Pass the ball!" Dean called out.

"You are ridiculous, Dean!" Rolling your eyes, you head back to your room, leaving your half-anxious brother in the living room, shouting all alone.

"Oh, the dinner ended early, so I only spent, like, not even an hour with her? Charles said he wanted to check on someone." Dean yelled out before going back to his game.

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"I’ll be right back!" You called out and took off your apron before dashing your way to the bathroom. You had started working on your part-time job again now that you were on a summer break.

Every time you started working, you would always set a goal. Last time, it was for Charles’s birthday gift. Well, not for the bracelet alone. You had saved up some money to buy him a watch that reminded you of him. Your budget wasn’t met on time, so you could only give him the bracelet as a temporary replacement until you could buy the main gift. The watch was still in your possession, and you didn’t think it would ever reach Charles. This time, you were saving up for the necklace that you had been eyeing for months. You lost the game with Dean the other night, so now you have to actually work for it.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Oh– I’m.." The sandwich wrapper in your hand was stuffed into your pocket. You were on a lunch break, and like usual, you would always have your lunch near the fountains where you could see your city from a higher view. This time, your lunch was interrupted by your brother’s best friends. "I’m having my lunch."

"I didn’t know you worked. Café de Paris?" His eyes trailed on the words written on your cap.

"Yeah, just for a short time, though, because I don’t really have anything to do during my break." You gave a soft smile. It’s been a week since the last time you saw him. Since the first argument

"Y/N, I really didn’t mean what I said that day. I just missed

"I’m all set! Oh, hello! Baby, who’s this?" There was a girl in a short dress. She was stunning. Her makeup looked amazing yet very natural, enhancing her facial features. Her hair looked beautiful with the soft curls that bounced every time she tilted her head.

And she was wearing the bracelet. The same one you had around your wrist.

"She’s my friend. My best friend Y/N, this is, um, my girlfriend, Leona. Leona, Y/N."

You saw the way she looked at you; the slight smirk on her face when she saw your uniform made you feel self-conscious and smaller. Looking down, you tried to straighten your shirt and kept your hands on your laps, your eyes looking away as you tried to think of a way to excuse yourself.

"Did you give her the same bracelet I got from you?" She scowled. The change in her tone made you dumbstruck.

"No, it was my gift for him." You gritted your teeth in silent fury. She had been looking at you up and down, disgusted, as if you had done something wrong.

"Chill. I am not asking you." She rolled her eyes. Charles was silent the whole time, but he kept on looking at you.

Charles wanted to hold you. He wanted to put you in his embrace. He wanted to talk to you about everything—every single thing. He wanted to apologise, but whenever he saw you, he would always mess things up.

"You don’t have to glare at me like that as if I were that desperate to wear this. Take it then." She pulled the bracelet off and threw it on the ground as she pulled Charles away.

"Just go first." He retracted his hand away, making the girl glunt at you even more before she walked away. "Y/N, what time will you finish your shift? I can wait for you and send you home?"

"Just go, Charles. Just leave me alone."

"Y/N, please,"

"Just go." You snapped. To that end, he walked away, and you looked at him briefly as he looked back every so often while you stood there with the bracelet in your hand.

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flash

The door to your room was barged open, causing you to jump and roll your eyes when your brother walked in.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I just wanted to check on my sister because why the heck did you keep on shouting?" You cursed under your breath when he laid down on your bed with his outside clothes.

"I just wanted to do this, but it’s not working!" The video on your phone was paused ten times as you dipped your head on the table.

"A bracelet? For who?" He took the Koala soft toy and hugged it, his eyes still locked on you at the dressing table.

"Secret!"

He cackled and turned his body to the side, arm angled upwards, head on hand. "I’m not a fool, silly. Charles?"

"How do you know?" He shouldn’t know. You had been so discreet with your feelings that there was no way he would have known, but Dean was also the one who knew everything about you.

"I’m your brother. I know everything. Need my help?"

"No, it’s okay. I got this." You actually wanted to go with a heart bracelet, but this had been your third attempt, and none of the results were up to your liking, so you went with a normal design, which is easier for someone new like you.

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"Charles! Come in!"

You were heading to the kitchen when you heard his voice, which made you trace your steps back and tiptoe your way back to the room.

"I’m sure Dean is sleeping. Wait, I’ll wake him up." Your mom stopped in her tracks when Charles called out.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m actually here for Y/N. Can I see her?" Charles asked as he took a seat on the couch.

"Oh, she went out on a date. She did mention his name, but I couldn’t recall."

"Oh, it’s okay! I’ll just wait for Dean." Charles gave a soft smile as Y/M/N went upstairs, and he heard her shouting Dean’s name.

"Wake up! Your friend’s downstairs. You need to stop sleeping all day long!"

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"Y/N, I actually have something to tell you."

Jake has been acting different from the moment he picked you up. He had been the most outgoing and cheerful person on your first date, but he seemed to be anxious tonight. You could barely carry a conversation along the ride because he would always reply with one or two words.

"Is there anything wrong?" Something in your gut told you that it might not be something good, but there was a little bit of hope that maybe he was nervous because he wanted to talk about your "relationship". After all, this had been your fifth date with him.

"Do you want to order something first?"

"No, it’s okay. What is it?" Tucking the loose strand of hair behind the ear, you gave him a soft, reassuring smile.

"What? How do you know I have something to say?" Jake stuttered.

"Everyone can tell you have something to say to me!" Laughing, you placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on it. "What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you that." He titled his head back and groaned in frustration. "I just don’t know how to tell you this, but,

I’m back with my ex-girlfriend."

The smile on your face dropped almost instantly. It felt like someone kicked you on the head and knocked your breath out. "Wh–what? But I thought we had something. "

"You were amazing. I really had an enjoyable time with you, but I just wasn’t expecting her to come back." He tried to place his hand on yours, but you pulled it away and straightened your back. "And I will always choose her over anyone." He muttered.

That’s when it clicked on you. You would never be anyone’s choice. No matter how hard you try to please anyone, they will always choose someone else.

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"Mind if I continue my sleep here? Thank you. Make yourself at home." Dean gave a thumbs up sarcastically and threw his head back on the throw pillows as he drifted back to sleep. He was at his girlfriend’s house last night doing god-knows-whatever it was, and he came back all worn out, saying that 12 hours of sleep wasn’t enough.

Charles was sitting on the couch across, eyes on the door every once in a while. It has been more than 2 hours, and you should be coming home any minute now.

"What the f-" The phone blasted out The Weeknd’s song so loudly that it made both men in the living room jump in their seats.

"Turn it off, can you?" Dean groaned and covered his face with the throw pillow, making Charles click on his tongue.

"Dude, it’s your phone." He murmured while taking the phone off the coffee table. He was going to put it on hold when the familiar name on the screen caught his attention.

"Little Y/N."

"Hel–"

"Dean," Charles heard you sob. "Can you—" another sob. "Can you pick me up?"

"Y/N, it’s me. Dean is sleeping." He replied.

"Oh, oh, it’s okay. I’ll just take a bus home."

Charles butted in before you pressed the end button. "Where are you?"

"I’m waiting for a bus."

"Where?"

"It’s okay, Charles."

He heaved a sigh of defeat. "Y/N, don’t do this. Text me your location. I’ll pick you up."

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You trailed the toe cap of your sneaker along the curve on the ground while the sound of a horn and faint music filled the air.

"I’ll always choose her over anyone."

"But I still like you."

"I need you to wait for me; can you do that?"

A chuckle escaped from your lips. Funny how, for a second, you thought your life was getting better, but it felt like you were hit by another rolling stone on your way up your dream hill.

"Pathetic." You muttered, your hand wiping your cheek as another tear escaped from your eyes.

"Y/N, let me take you home. I don’t think your brother is going to let me live if he finds out I let you take the bus this late." Jake pleaded for it ten times. It was getting more annoying now that he kept asking the same thing over and over. You tried to ignore him, but he ended up following you all the way to the bus station. "Give me that." He snatched on your bag, and you held on to the strap, glaring at him.

"Let go! I am not coming with you."

"What’s wrong with it?"

"Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to see you again. Can you just let go of my bag, dumbass?" You yelled when the strap slipped off your hand.

"Is this how you treat a woman when you take her out on a date?" Charles seized the bag and glowered at the other guy suspiciously.

"This is between me and her, dude. Y/N–"

Anything that involves her involves me too. Say whatever you want to say to her, but I’m not going anywhere." Charles got in between, and your sight of Jake was covered by his broad back.

"I just want to send her home." Jake chirped in.

"I’ll be taking her home. You don’t have to worry about that." Charles gave a nod and grabbed your wrist, walking back to his car.

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Your eyes were on your lap, and the words Jake said kept replaying in your head over and over.

"Am I.."

Charles’s focus went on you when he heard your voice.

"Am I not worthy of love?"

Charles blinked, his brows furrowed, wondering where the question came from. "What makes you say that?"

"I feel like I’ve never had any luck when it comes to love. I never got to confess to you, and all of a sudden I found out you have a girlfriend. I thought Jake was going to confess to me, but it turned out he wanted me to be his backup plan. It was so silly of me to think that for a second, someone could like me back." You wept out of frustration, feeling like you just kept humiliating yourself over and over. "I’m sorry, I don’t know why you have to listen to that."

“I have always chose you.” He whispered.

But you didn’t hear. So, he continued.

"We broke up."

"Hm?" This was the first time you looked at him since you got in the car. He was so beautiful, even in the dark.

"Leona and I broke up." He blurted.

"Do you want me to ask why, or is that an invasion of privacy?" You glanced. He was still keeping an eye on the road; the street lights illuminated his face.

"No," he chuckled. "I know you always want the details on everything, so go ahead and ask."

"Okay, why? When?" You were now completely turned to face him, just as far as the seatbelt allowed.

"A week ago? I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. Everything was perfect at the beginning, but lately there hasn’t been a day where we won’t fight. It was draining. I don’t know what went wrong. And the–" He inhaled. "She got really angry when she found out about the bracelet, so yeah, we broke up."

"I’m sorry.." You breathed out.

"Sorry for?"

"For the bracelet, It was the reason she broke up with you." You straighten your back, leaning against the car set.

"Your bracelet was my lucky charm, Y/N. It was the reason I managed to get the pole and podium. I always felt the need to do my best because I wanted to make you proud. I wouldn’t have taken it off if it wasn’t for race week."

You wanted to hold his hand on the gear shift, but you were too scared, so you held yourself. "You always make me proud. Podium or not? Pole position or the last one in the starting grid, I’m always proud of you."

"Wanna go and get ice cream?"

"Yeah!" You exclaimed. "My favourite one?"

"Your favourite one. Are you up for a card game?"

"I never say no to a stupid card game." You replied.

Whatever happened that night was a little secret between Charles and you. You had told him to never tell your brother about what happened.

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"Y/N! You are cheating, aren’t you? That’s impossible! Give me your cards. Why can’t you just play clean?" You leaned away and brought the cards closer to your chest.

"The game hasn’t finished yet!" You put down another piece of card, giggling when he dumped his whole card right away and laid down.

"I don’t want to play anymore."

"You are so silly!" You gathered all the cards back into one bundle and put them back in a box. This was his third time losing, and while you were having a lot of fun, he was in misery.

It had been a few weeks since the last time you saw Jake. He did try to reach out, but you felt like there was no need for any other explanation from him. Charles came by every so often during his break, more often now that he has no one blowing up his phone.

He found out Leona was hanging out with someone else through Dean because, just like you, he was a really big fan of tea, but there weren’t as many hard feelings involved. She did deserve to be happy.

He came by again, though you told him Dean wasn’t home this weekend. Here he was, in your room, playing cards or listening to you rant about your customers.

"And then he was like, "Excuse me, where’s the whipped cream?" and my co-worker looked at me and was like, "Are you hearing this?""

He was lying on his side, head on his hand, while smiling and frowning, mimicking your expression as he rode the emotional rollercoaster ride where one second you were mad and the next second you were laughing. "Wait, I thought he said no whipped cream?" He recalled it.

"Yeah! And he was also the one who got mad because there was no whipped cream in his drink!"

"So what happened? Did he get the whipped cream in the end?" Charles sat up and bent down to get his paper bag that he had placed at the foot of your bed.

"Oh, I don’t know." You shrugged. My co-worker was the one who handled it."

"What the heck? You can’t just tell a story without an ending. That was anticlimatic, Y/N. Oh–" He took out a velvet box from the paper bag and handed it to you. "I wanted to give you this."

Your eyes went from him to the box in his hand. "It’s not my birthday yet."

"I know, but I won’t be here next week. I need to fly back to Maranello. Open it. I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but yeah, I hope you do."

The velvet box contained a Van Cleef & Arpels 18k rose gold necklace with a vintage Alhambra pendant. The one you had been eyeing since forever. "Are you crazy? I can’t take this." Your eyes widened in surprise as you closed the box.

"No, take it. It’s your birthday gift! I can’t return it, silly. I threw away the sales slip." He crossed his arms so you wouldn't be able to shove the box back into his hands.

"It’s expensive! How do you know this was the necklace I wanted?" You gently took it out of the box and admired the way it was dazzling and dangling from your hand.

"I asked Dean. And I saw you were looking at it when I bumped into you during your lunch break the other day. Here, let me help you." He took the necklace from your hand and draped it around your neck. He found himself smiling fondly when you let go of your hair, the way the hair fell perfectly to frame your face as you gave off the brightest, radiant smile that always struck on him.

"I really don’t deserve this, Charles. My birthday gift to you was just that."

"Speaking about that, can you give me back the bracelet? Technically, it’s still mine." He scratches the back of his hair. "And I kinda need it for my next race."

"It’s all dirty now. But I can make you a new one."

"Just give it back, Y/N. And then you teach me how to make another one. Also, I was thinking if." He pursed his lips. "If I can take you out on a date after my upcoming race,"

The question had knocked you for six. You wanted to scream, but instead, you tilted your head away just so you could gather up all your emotions before you could look at him in the eyes. "I don’t know. Let me think about it first."

"I thought you liked me?"

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him head-to-toe. "Excuse me?! That was very cocky of you to assume."

"You literally confessed to me in my car weeks ago when I picked you up from the horrible date." He shrugged and cocked a brow.

"I didn’t."

"You did! Are you going to say yes, or am I getting rejected?" He tilted his head with a grin to catch your eyes as you kept on looking away.

"I’ll think about it. Oh! I actually have a belated birthday gift for you.” Standing up, you went to your drawer and pulled it open to get another small box.

“I thought the bracelet was my gift?” Charles took the box and tried to shake on it.”

“It was supposed to be a temporary one.” You looked at the box and back to him back and forth, trying so hard not to squeal. You had been waiting to give it to him as it had been in your drawer collecting dust.

“You got me another bracelet? Oh, I like it. It matched the rest of mine.” He put it on immediately and extended his arm to check on his bracelet collections from afar. “I am not gonna take this one off too. Thank you, Y/N. But I still need the old one though.”

“Oh, should we make a new one together?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Let me know if you could pick out few of the events where Charles picked reader first over anyone else!

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl

✧.* tag list for p.3! @sabrinaselina55 @honey6578 @julesandro @boherahpsody @gulphulp @bansheelydiia

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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saelique · 1 month

Text

not even titling dis cause I have no idea what I just wrote

strangers to friends with dazai osamu !! ft. atsushi !! reader works in a cafe <3 fem reader <33 NOT PROOFREAD cause m rlly lazy

that one weird guy you see on your way to your workplace when you’re driving your car was handsome up close. scarily and dangerously handsome.

damn. his short brown eyes and hair with a tall figure was enough to beg for his number. if you didn’t have self control, that is !

thankfully, your first impression of him was enough to keep you from asking his hand in marriage ! after all, who would want to get with a guy who jumps down a bridge in a attempt to commit suicide and does it everyday ?

“my name is dazai osamu, nice to meet you.”

oh god. even his voice is hot. really, you’re trying hard to focus at what he and his companion are saying and not to stare at his perfect face.

“so I see, uh- would you like to come in and inspect then ?” you managed to get the words out, smiling and opening the door to the cafe youre currently working in.

”of course ! thank you miss !” a young boy next to him bowed a bit. he was dressed weirdly as well. what’s his name again . . . ? atsushi nakajima, was it ? eh. it was fine, wasn’t like you’re gonna meet them again.

atsushi entered the cafe while dazai stood behind, clearly you didn’t know what he wanted to do so you opened the door a bit more. “mr. dazai ? would you like to come in ?”

“I was just thinking,” he leaned towards you, causing you to lean back, “would a beautiful lady like you commit double suicide with me-“ “dazai ! let’s just start the mission like the president said !” atsushi came back, quickly taking the arm of dazai. “sorry about that, he’s just . . .” “no, no, it’s okay. I understand.”

you didn’t.

they ended up leaving a bit later, dazai handing you a slip of paper with a contact on it. “you didn’t give me your answer, so ! call me if you would like to die together ~”

you accepted it with a awkward smile and a nod, clearly not knowing what to do. a part of you wanted to throw it away, but that one voice told you to keep it and call him. definitely not cause your love life is failing terribly like his suicide attempts !!!

you ended up following your impulsive thoughts.

you gulped when he answered your call. “hello ? who’s this ?” “uh- hello ? this is-“ “oh ! you’re that cafe lady ealier ! are you going to accept my proposal to die together ?” he sang, you heard the sounds of a tv and sheets rustling in the background as he shifted from his former laying position to a new, more comfortable one.

“I was just about to ask if you’re getting professional help.” shit. were you wrong though ? i mean- someone who attempts suicide can’t be mentally sane right ?

silence on the end of the call. you were just about to hang up from embarrassment before you heard him speak again. “nope ! are you gonna look one for me though ? professional help is really expensive and I can’t pay for luxuries like that.” “I literally work in a cafe. it’s minimum wage. you work as a detective. aren’t you supposed to receive much, much more ?” you scoffed, despite the conversation you were having, you had to admit that talking with him was . . . amusing, to say the least. fun, even.

“well, you can be my therapist. are you good at listening to people ? since you’re the one who suggested it after all ! okay ! let’s meet at your cafe ! I’ll arrive at six !” “wait I’m not-“ “see ya !” “. . . he hung up . . . “ you muttered to yourself in defeat.

oh well, his story can’t be that bad, right ?

he didn’t tell you anything in the end, only talking about his cases and about his fellow coworkers. it was entertaining though, you undoubtedly felt bad for atsushi and that guy he called kunikida.

“dazai ? it’s time for me to pack up and go, it’s like- nine now.” you got up from your chair, ready to escort him out. “really ? awh, I was having so much fun.” he whined, but got up from his chair all the same. “I’ll be back tomorrow ! see you belladonna !”

”see you.”

you waved, and closed the door to clean the cafe as you promised your boss. hmph. tomorrow huh ? you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling but failed horribly.

“see you tomorrow, dazai.” you said to yourself, looking out the window to watch him head back to his apartment.

you should really stop falling for mentally unstable men.

#EWWWW #DIS IS BAD #AGHHHHHH #GONNA GO KMS #SJJDJSKSKS #౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 📔 : novels !#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd x fem eeader #Bsd x reader fluff #fluff

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cumikering · 8 months

Text

Possessive bf Soap x reader 3

2k | fluff, swearing Home: Dating Soap (Part 1) (Part 4/5)

“Did you mean that?” Soap grabbed your shoulders. “What you just said?”

“Yes?” you hesitated.

He sighed with a grin, pulling you in again. “Say it again, lass. Been waiting to hear it forever.”

“I like you, Johnny. I like you a lot. I really do,” you mumbled, your warm face pressed into his shoulder.

He groaned, giving you a squeeze. “Fuck, that feels so good to hear.”

“Why’d it take you so long to say anything?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he retorted.

You looked up at him, slapping his chest a little too hard. “You dafty! You said you don’t want to date, always making fun of me for wanting to!”

He gave you a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Well?”

“I was so scared to tell you,” he began. “The better the friendship, the higher the stakes. It’s far easier to be on the safe side of things, you know. In case you don’t feel the same, or if it doesn’t work out, because then I’ll just end up losing everything. And I’d really, fucking hate to lose you.”

You always liked seeing his soft side. “I’m happy you feel the same.”

“So what now?” he said, voice filled with hope.

“First off, I need to know just what prank you pulled on Daniel.”

Soap sighed in defeat. He knew you were going to ask eventually. “Well, he’s married, so I-”

“What the hell! How did you know this?” Your brows furrowed. “Did you stalk him?”

“No, I got the tech department to look him up. I know I’m not supposed to tell you, but it’s mad how easy it is. It’s literally just a few clicks away.” He added quickly, “But I only started doing this since Randy.”

You blinked. “Randy?”

“Ehm, Nathan, but that’s his fake name. He’s a scammer, so I guess I scared him off when I said I was meeting Theo who got a lead on him.”

“Oh God, so what you said wasn’t just rubbish? He did look like he was sincerely ill after you left. I thought that’s because he was upset you interrupted us.” You couldn’t help laughing. “But why him?”

“It was my last ditch effort. You already saw him a few times, and I was worried you were going to become an item…” he trailed off. “I was jealous,” he confessed in a small voice.

You huffed. “But that’s not okay you snooped around like that. It’s none of your business at all.”

“I know, I felt guilty doing that. In a sick way I’m glad I found something so I could justify my borderline creepy behaviour.”

“True, but you’re really lucky you turned out busting these arseholes. Because otherwise you know I’d be fucking furious, yeah?”

He hung his head. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Better not. No much a point doing background research on yourself.”

His eyes twinkled. “Is that what I think it means?”

You gave him a mischievous smile before turning on your heels, walking further down the street. “I’m still hungry. Buy me pizza, Johnny.”

He spun you by the wrist, looking down at you. “If you’re mine, give me a kiss.”

The intensity of his blue eyes sent your heart racing. “Promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” he breathed out.

“Clean up your place. It’s always such a big mess.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you.

You crushed on Soap all over again - how could you not? He trailed behind you constantly, like a blue-eyed puppy, but now with the licence to. He didn’t have to make up excuses to spend time with you anymore, and he was having the time of his life.

“What’s going to happen if I miss you too much?” You clung to him the morning of his next deployment.

The sun barely peeked over the horizon, yet Soap was already up in his uniform while you just got out of his bed.

“That’s fine.” He smiled, rubbing your back. “I know I’ll miss you more, so at least you know I’ll suffer more.”

You had apprehensions about how long distance was going to work, but you didn’t realise parting with him would be so hard. He’d gone on countless missions over the years, yet for the first time you were near to tears about him going away.

“Don’t eat all the brownies in one sitting.”

You’d baked him a batch of brownies the night before and wrapped them individually for the road. You knew how much he loved to snack.

His chest rumbled in laughter against you, completely ignoring the comment as he had other plans in mind. “I’ll call and text as much as I can.” He kissed your forehead.

Soap promised and delivered. Sure, his fond texts came at the wildest hours, but they quenched the longing regardless. He’d given you the keys to his place too, for if you ever wanted to lie around in his bed. With bits and pieces of him surrounding you, the times he was away didn’t feel so bad after all.

When he was back in town, he was eager to please, clingy in the best way. You didn’t complain because you wanted him just so. Everything he did had a loving undertone to it, or maybe it was always there all these years, but you never noticed.

“You want popcorn? I’ll make some for you,” he said as you both cuddled on the couch with a film on. “Don’t have to pause it for me.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

A few moments after, the air reeked of burning. You poked your head in the kitchen. “Johnny, what’s that smell?”

“What smell?” He looked up.

“Oh my God, Johnny! It’s smoking!” You rushed in, turning off the heat which he’d cranked to infinity. “It’s a stove, not a furnace!”

A cloud of pitch black smoke rose up as he lifted the lid. “It wasn’t popping so I turned it up!” he defended.

You laughed. “Guess we’re having charcoal to snack on.”

Soap pouted.

“It’s fine, Johnny.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek. “We can have something else. But you’re scrubbing the bloody pot clean because you’ve somehow managed to burn it to absolute oblivion too.”

Soap’s acts of service didn’t go unnoticed even that they didn’t always turn out. One day when you were under the weather, he’d asked you to stay over so he could take care of you, even going as far as cooking his mum’s soup for you. You admired his efforts as you knew how much he didn’t like cooking.

“Lass, come have a look!”

You entered the kitchen to him beaming proudly by the stove. You peered over the pot and bit your lower lip.

“I love you so much,” you began. “But fuck me, Johnny. You’ve got the uncanny ability to make everything look like prison food.”

“Och, piss off. I know it tastes good.” He took a spoonful of the chunky soup and eyed you sideways. A second after, he held a cough in and blinked a few times as he struggled to swallow. But it’s Soap, so he wasn’t going to admit to his fuck ups. “If you don’t want it, I’ll have it,” he mumbled, looking away.

He insisted on buying you takeaway down the street, so you did what you could to salvage his soup while he was gone.

“Had some of it. It’s nice Johnny, thank you.” You slid a bowl over to him, stroking his hair.

“I told ye,” he said with a small pout before grabbing the spoon. After a bite, he looked up at you with an apologetic smile, acknowledging the assist.

You shook your head as you chuckled, digging into your own bowl.

“Johnny, I need to ask. How much salt did you put in the soup?” you asked as you dried the dishes.

“One teaspoon, just like what the recipe calls for.”

“Are you sure you put in one?”

“Affirmative. This much.” He grabbed the salt container, holding up the heapingest heap of salt that has ever heaped in a teaspoon.

“Johnny, that’s a dump truck, not a teaspoon.”

“Fuck off.” He laughed as he tickled your sides.

“I’ll write you recipes with detailed instructions,” you managed through your giggling fits. “I’ll even illustrate what a teaspoon worth is supposed to look like.”

He stopped, hands resting on your waist. “Why don’t you move in? So we can cook together every time.”

“W- what?”

“Move in with me.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I love having you around.”

Familiarity made you move fast, perhaps too fast, but it felt right. Everything felt right with him, especially when he took you home on his next leave. You’d met his family countless of times when you were still in school, but seeing them with the new title made you a hint nervous nonetheless.

“Och, hen. So good to see you again!” Mrs. Mactavish pulled you in for a hug right after she opened the door. “I was so happy when Johnny told me!”

Soap’s open arms were met with the chilly wind. ”Maw!” he protested.

She laughed, beaconing for him to join the hug. “Get in here.”

His mum took your hand, leading you to the house you hadn’t seen in a long time. The corridor was quite literally a memory lane. Your steps slowed as you admired the framed photos on the wall. Most were of his family – Soap striking silly poses with his parents on holiday, and his yearbook photos over the years you always teased him for. He had a different hairstyle in each one until he settled for his signature mohawk in fifth year. Further along the wall hung new ones of him and his bright blue eyes, standing proud in his SAS uniform.

Mrs. Mactavish squeezed your hand. “Look how handsome my baby is,” she cooed, running a hand down the most recent photo.

You turned to him smiling gently at you. The photos didn’t come close to representing how striking he truly was.

“Let’s have lunch now.” She tugged at you, leading you further in. “I made your favourite.”

Not much had changed. The couches were still there, the rugs the same, even the way that his mum always cooked too much when you came over. That day, it looked like she made enough to last the rest of the week.

Sitting at the dining table felt like slipping into a time machine. On the same wooden chairs with floral upholstery, under the frosted glass pendant light, Soap had spent many hours there teaching you chemistry and maths, subjects he excelled at. But now with his tender gaze as he held your hand under the table, you knew this was meant to be.

That night, you squeezed together in his bed looking up the indie band posters from his teenage years. It was your first time seeing them from that angle. Nostalgia swept over you again, and you couldn’t help feeling a touch emotional.

“I know it looks blatantly obvious my maw can’t love you any more, but I hope you don’t let it get to yer head because I know I’m still her favourite.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, mama’s boy.”

“But you can rest assured no one loves you more than I do.” He kissed your forehead.

You turned to him, beaming.

“I think had I not gone to SAS, we’d have been together soon after we graduated. We would have been here years ago already.”

“How so?”

“It took me some time before I realised I liked you, and that was in SAS, but it didn’t allow me enough time to turn us into a couple, only friends.” He glanced at you. “By the time you moved to the city, we were such good friends already. I wanted so much more, but I feel we walked down the wrong path, and I didn’t know how to change that, so I just… did nothing. I'm sorry for taking so long.”

“I’ve got no regrets, Johnny. I’m happy we’re together now. I can’t ask for anything better.” You smiled against his lips.

Taglist: @sofasoap @thewizardarson @liyanahelena @kenma-izhu

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cinebration · 8 months

Text

Dogfight Preview (Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader) [One-shot]

Premise: Maverick gives a lesson on dogfighting.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: unicornships

“You’re Maverick.”

Maverick glanced up from the perspiring beer bottle in his hands and squinted against the sunlight. You resolved suddenly into focus as you stepped into the light, relieving him of the blinding rays.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered, frowning. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.”

Maverick leaned back in his seat and took stock of you, the furrow in his brow deepening. You wore a black shirt, your flight suit unzipped and tied around your waist. He couldn’t read your expression as you met his gaze.

“I need help in dogfighting,” you said, as though picking up that his appraisal was over. “You’re the best dogfighter here.”

Maverick couldn’t help the faint smile that touched his lips. “I just have experience.”

“Hence why I’m here asking.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m allowed to do one-on-ones.”

“I could get Admiral Simpson’s authorization.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crashing waves along the shoreline. “Although I doubt he’ll like being bothered with this.”

Anything with Maverick’s name attached was likely to stick in Cyclone’s craw, that much was certain. Maverick followed your gaze out over to the surf, attention arrested occasionally by the swoop and dive of seagulls.

“You’re not part of the team,” he stated carefully.

“Not right now, no. But getting trained by a legend would certainly help that.”

Nodding, Maverick pushed himself out of his chair. “Why the hell not? I haven’t been up in the air today yet.”

A sharp smile spread over your face, the kind Maverick had seen on some of the most eager pilots—himself included. He smiled back, crossing the sand with you wordlessly.

This will be fun, he thought.

Forty minutes later, you both were up in the air. Maverick stayed low and behind you, glancing up through the cockpit to see your bird’s silhouette up against the bright blue sky.

“Are you a book learner or a hand’s on learner?” he asked.

Your voice came through the headset with a faint metallic background. “Sir?”

“Is it better if I talk you through it or if I show you?”

A few seconds of silence.

“Show me,” you answered.

Maverick swore he heard a challenge in your voice.

Alright, you asked for it.

Pulling hard on the throttle, Maverick climbed hundreds of feet through the air, bee-lining straight toward you.

He streaked past your wing, the sudden displacement of air nearly sending you rolling.

“Fight’s on,” he declared, swinging back around.

“Clearly,” he heard you mutter over the radio.

He chuckled.

Maverick moved to get behind you. You veered off, slipping just out of his targeting system.

“Not bad,” he said. “But I was going easy on you.”

“Oh, really?”

In answer, Maverick accelerated, the jet screaming as it followed his lead. He whipped around, his nose almost aligned with you. His targeting system fought hard to center on the box.

You pulled up hard, flying straight into the sun.

A smirk pulled at his lips. Not bad at all.

He caught you decelerating and dropping altitude in an attempt to slide under his belly and come out behind him. Mirroring you, he fell back behind you, the targeting system once again searching frantically for the box on your back.

You dropped out of the sky.

“Holy shit.” Maverick craned his head through the window of the cockpit, trying to catch you beneath him. “Haven’t seen that in a while.”

He pulled up sharply, looping back to force you ahead of him and to give him a chance to glimpse you in the sky. You were just underneath him, almost down to the hard deck. He gunned the throttle as you zipped forward, bringing his nose around.

You rolled.

The dogfight lasted for twenty minutes before Maverick finally got tone.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, smiling into his mask.

You slowed down in defeat, the radio silent on your end.

“How was that?”

“Informative,” you answered.

He frowned and watched you break off, heading back to base. A moment later, he followed.

Maverick crossed the tarmac to you as you climbed out of the cockpit and tore off your helmet. It was jet black, angled away from him so he couldn’t see if you had earned a call sign yet.

“That was good,” he said. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I never said I hadn’t done it before,” you answered carefully. “I just needed the practice.”

“Well, you’ve got a pretty strong foundation, I’ll give you that.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I have a demonstration tomorrow morning. Me and another TOPGUN hotshot are gonna show the rookies how it’s done. You should come watch, maybe learn a few things.”

He held his breath.

You flashed a smile at him. “I’ll be there.”

“Great.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye and strode off in the direction of the hangers. Hondo crossed the tarmac in the opposite direction, heading to Maverick. He paused as you passed him, exchanged a few words and a laugh.

Maverick frowned.

“You know her?” he asked when Hondo could hear him.

“Sure, that’s Reaper.”

“Reaper?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d she earn that name?”

“You never see her coming until it’s too late.”

He thought back to the dogfight. “Doesn’t seem too accurate.”

“Were you guys planning for tomorrow?”

Maverick faced Hondo. “What?”

“For tomorrow’s demonstration.” Hondo’s eyebrows knitted together. “You know you’re fighting her tomorrow, right?”

Maverick’s gaze whipped across the tarmac to you as you disappeared into a hanger. “She was testing me,” he muttered. “She probably wasn’t even really flying.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” A grin of disbelief split his lips. “Just that tomorrow is gonna be fun.”

#Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader #Pete “Maverick” Mitchell #Pete “Maverick” Mitchell imagine #Maverick x Reader #Maverick #Maverick imagine #Pete Mitchell x Reader #Pete Mitchell #Pete Mitchell imagine #Tom Cruise x Reader #Tom Cruise #Tom Cruise imagine #Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM

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lloydfrontera · 3 months

Note

You know, regarding Lloyd's achievement in history and whether ordinary citizens know him or not made me crave post canon modern au.

Imagine seeing an in universe fanfic authors notes in ao3 or twitter crying about how they simply wanted to write a story set in Lloys time but they just keep diving into rabbit holes.

Kinda like

"So i was writing an historical au set in Alician era where the MC had a detour in Cremo and he was admiring a statue by the sea with a local explaining its history. Of course, I needed to do some research only to found out that Lloyd Frontera, YES, THAT Lloyd Frontera who made the Pantara railroad defeated some sea monster, nearly died and got statue for it"

Maybe someone from Beneto Kingdom being so confused because all he learned from history in school (Beneto history) is that Lloyd is just some brilliant engineer so he got specially confused on why in the movie he was watching set in Alician era is Lloyd fighting a goddamn bone dragon.

I'm interested on how scholars and political figures bemoan and analyse Lloyd's action and achievement but ordinary people's Internet discourse could be so much fun as well.

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

oh my god forget changing the history of civil engineering forever, sparking the nastiest discourse ever on history/fandom internet forums is lloyd's true greatest achievement akshfksdg

he's the go to historical domain character used to set the time period for a historical movie/book/series. he's the guy writers insert to give their work a more period accurate vibe. everyone knows just enough about him to make really passionate history nerds very angry about all the inaccuracies and made up facts that are taken as common knowledge.

i'm thinking people of completely different online circles all knowing about lloyd in some capacity but regarding completely separate facets of his life and work and being so surprised when they accidentally find yet another whole field lloyd revolutionized. like.

a sword nerd who's really into the concept of the asrahan core technique and knows perfectly well that lloyd helped invent it getting gobsmacked about the fact that's the same guy that laid the ground for modern sewer systems.

a fan of historical romance stories who is used to seeing lloyd as a fun cameo in the background of stories set in the alician period being really confused when they open their book on thermodynamics and see there's a whole chapter dedicated to a method lloyd figured out to create ice without the need of magic.

a train enthusiast who is really fascinated by the rudimentary switchback system lloyd frontera implemented when the concept of a train wasn't even known in the empire being completely dumbfounded when their friends invite them to see a movie about that one time lloyd frontera and his knight defeated a knight of hell in namaran.

i think it's definitely a meme to post "so i was doing research for my asfahan au and went on a rabbit hole and guess who fucking built the qanat that's widely regarded as the only reason the kingdom didn't fall into civil war. take a wild fucking guess" "was it lloyd frontera" "IT WAS FUCKING LLOYD FRONTERA OF COURSE IT WAS"

i'm also certain there would be some guys who think he's overrated and people should really stop talking so much about him when there's so many other historical figures who are just as interesting and not as recognized 🙄. to which people immediately go "mad cause your history blorbo didn't defeat a bone dragon aren't you" at them

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

they definitely get the alexander and hephaestion treatment you are so correct. they're also the achilles and patroclus of the modern magentano girlies. there's a bunch of 'queer retellings' of their lives. they're the go to example for homoerotic friendships. there's a bunch of edits that mix historical paintings of them with ship fanart with that 'history hates lovers' song playing over them. dudebros get really angry about it. llojavi truthers pull out their 20 pages long annotations that start with "they fucking slept in the same bedroom for years" and it only gets worse.

there's one poor person online who just really fucking wants to know how and why lloyd frontera changed faces one day out of the blue with no one ever explaining it. there's no official records. no member of the royal family ever made a statement about it. why is everyone acting like the frontera family didn't have one eldest son for 25-29 years and one day suddenly had a completely different one. what the fuck is going on.

so. yeah. i'm a little obsessed with this concept actually ajkshdksa

#hey i got an ask #myfracturedlife #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #llojavi #<- i guess??

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prettymrswright · 1 year

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Harlem Nights

pairing: rosalie otterbourne x black!fem!reader

background: as a singer and musician growing up in the heart of New York, you constantly had people, places, and things to be inspired by. every chance you could, you were finding places inside those rooms you always desired to be in. there was nothing more you wanted to do but perform. most of your family wouldn’t be so ecstatic about your ‘unrealistic’ and ‘unstable’ ambitions. But you knew deep down that you had what it takes. You’d soon travel down to Harlem’s hottest club of the early 20th century, ‘The Cotton Club’, and an interaction with one of your inspirations would change the trajectory of your life, forever.

content: fluff, flirting, playful banter, intimacy. a lot of sweetness + sass. warmth. little explicit language.

word count: 6k

authors note: 2nd fic down. this one was very fun to create, making it fitting to the time. I have such a sweet spot for Rosalie, I had to dedicate this one to her and all her glory. as a singer and musician myself from NY, this was very special for me. I hope y’all smiling and blushing because I was smiling and blushing writing it! enjoy. p.s. chile i kinda wanna make a part two, this was teaaaa.

taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @saintwrld @verachii @ventingfanfics @abenomeiiii @vampzxi @shuriszn @dejaonline @mysticalmarss @shurislover @msplayas @naomis-daydream @sweetalittleselfish-honey

pinned to my page is my new taglist form. if you wanna be tagged in specifics, go fill that joint out! thank you. (i also have an opt out option for those who no longer want to be tagged if they already are). <3

A warm, summer rain pitter-pattered across the glass of your bedroom window as you began cleaning up your space. It was a comfy afternoon, almost evening, the sun peaking through the clouds and beaming down on the town, preparing for its set. It was gorgeous outside. And despite it's rather saturating nature, many people were outside on their front porches. There were so many things to do in Harlem. So many places to see. And yet you felt you could die of boredom. If you weren't busy cleaning or babysitting the neighbors kids, you were receiving a 15-page verbal essay from your mother about how dangerous the city was and how 'there ain't nothing in Harlem but drugs, scams, and prostituting!'. I mean sure it could be dangerous at times. But where in the world isn't? You just knew that as much as there were frights, there were sights. Opportunity was left and right in this town. All your favorite artists and musicians grew up right here, and you wanted to join that list.

“Alright, Y/N/N,” your mom began, putting on her jacket, grabbing her things, and approaching your bedroom door. I’m off to work. Remember to drop the evening papers by Miss Jeanine after you finish cleaning. And no clubs!”

You sighed with immediate annoyance. “But Ma—“

“No butts!” She warned sternly. “Unless it’s yours in that bed there, immediately after. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You respectfully reply, feeling defeated.

You were 21, soon to be 22, but Mother didn’t believe in ‘legal adult decision making’. As long as you were her child and under her roof, you complied by her rules. You understood her always being protective over you; You even appreciated it. But at this moment and time of your life, it felt more like a hinderance than anything else.

“Alright now. I’ll see you later. I love you,” she says on her way out.

“Love you too Ma,” you reply faintly, and with that, the door shuts.

You fall back down on your bed behind you, with a big exhale, staring up at your popcorn ceiling. It was such a lovely day. You should be somewhere dancing, or hanging with your best friend Josephine. Even watching the neighbors kids wouldn’t be so bad right now. At least you’d be out in the backyard.

Tonight was also one of hottest summer nights to be at the Cotton. Billie Holiday, Ma Rainey, and Salome Otterbourne were all performing. It was certain to be a full house, for sure. The three black female jazz pioneers were on tour, and this would be the only time in a while that anybody would be able to see them all perform in one night. Dozens of people even travel from out of state on nights like these. That also meant that there’d be a bunch of travel scouts and agents, waiting on more talent to grab and take under their wing. You were nauseated at the thought of even missing it for a moment.

You got up to finish your cleaning, and halfway through, you heard the door open and shut, followed by a familiar voice that you knew and loved so much.

“Why the long face, sugar?” It asked, making sure you’d turn around to see their smile.

“Grandpa!” You ran to him with open arms, beaming with joy.

Your grandfather was your best friend. Since you were a little girl, he took you under his wing. Your dad left to pursue his music dreams when you were younger, so your grandfather was also the Dad you never had. He always spoke life into you, and made sure that no matter what, you knew that you were capable of any and everything. He also instilled you with the unwavering confidence to back that. Grandpa’s think-pieces were like gold. He was very wise, and had been through it all. He’d always say:

'Don’t let anybody take you for a fool! Not even me!' And laughed. But he was serious. "What's going on? Lorraine got you in this house cleaning all day again?" He says in your defense, as he often does. You let out an exhausting puff of a sigh before plopping back down on your bed. "Yea Pop. As usual." You shifted your body towards him and stared at the ground in deep thought, pausing before continuing. "I mean, life has got to be a little more exciting than this, don't it?" He laughed a low, hearty chuckle. "There's always more excitement, Y/N/N. You just gotta find it. Don't wait for opportunity, create it!" He says affirmably, allowing you to comfortably reveal what you've been thinking about all week. "I really wanna go to the Cotton tonight, Grandpa. Salome Otterbourne is performing tonight! And a bunch of other singers and talents and--well--I'm gonna be here, missing it." You look down and fidget your thumbs around each other. "Well why don't you go?" He asks. "You know Mama don't want me around no clubs, Pop. Besides, I told her I would take the evening papers down to Miss Jeanine." You reply in slight aggravation. "Ohhh," He scoffs and waves his hand down in dismissal. "Don't let that child stop you. I'll take the papers down to Jeanine." Your eyes lit up in pleasant surprise and excitement. "Oh you will?!" "Don't worry about it." He says, a confident smirk creeping onto his face. "Go on and enjoy yourself. I don't know where Lorraine gets all that strictness from anyway. Me and Betty ain't raise that child like that. Besides, she's seen and DONE worse." You both share a big laugh. "Thanks Grandpa. You're the best!" You jump up and wrap your arms around the big guy, holding the embrace for a while. "Anything for my favorite granddaughter." He says jokingly. "I'm your only granddaughter, Grandpa." You reply giggling. "I know. Now gone and figure out what you're going to wear. I hear that Mrs. Otterbourne is looking for another back up vocalist for her band." He tells you as if he just revealed the world's biggest secret. You, performing with Salome Otterbourne and her band. Your stomach turned and the mere thought of it. You kissed your Grandpa on the cheek before rushing to the bathroom to get ready for your highly anticipated night. Your mind rushed with all the possibilities of the night's events. You'd be in the same room with people and experiencing things you've once only dreamed of. Intimidating it was, but your desire to even just be in that energy was bigger. .. After lotioning up and powdering down, you slipped on a cool lavender silk midi dress, with spaghetti straps and a flowy, skirt-like bottom. You leaned into the mirror of your vanity, shaping up your thin brows, rolling on your winged liner, and coating your lips with a nude pink gloss, a shade brighter than your natural lip color. You used your same liner to add your infamous faux face moles; one above your lip, one at the tip of your nose, and one at the top corner of your cheek bone. You placed two diamond stud earrings into your ears, decorated your left wrist with a rose gold watch, and clamped your custom microphone necklace around your neck, gifted by your Grandfather. Lastly, pulling your look together, you peel off your bonnet and hair net, coat your fingers with oil, and take out each of your curls, wrapped around perm rods. You fluffed and shaped your hair into its short, curly and tapered state, much like Sheila Guyse. You stood and wrapped your mesh shawl around your shoulders. You walked over to your tall, door mirror and scanned your body, turning each angle, before spritzing your figure with Blue Grass, by Elizabeth Taylor. You always put effort into your look, but tonight was definitely a little extra. You needed to look and feel the part. Like you belonged there, just with everyone else. You grabbed your white clutch hand purse, matching your white pumps before walking out to the living room. "So," you say to your Grandfather, doing a quick and excited 360. "How do I look?"

"Oh, Y/N," Grandpa says swiping across and covering his mouth to conceal his emotional expression. "You look beautiful. Just like your grandmother." Grandma has passed when you were 7. You had faint memories of her. But one thing you did remember, was how madly in love your Grandfather was. You always said you'd want to be loved just like that when you were older. All the family would constantly remind you of how much you looked like her, and even carried a lot of her personality traits.

"Thanks, Pop." You reach down to hug him and wipe his tear before stepping back and giving him an 'It's okay' smile. "Alright, I'm heading out!" "Alright now, have fun and be safe! Be back by 11, and please, don't give your mother anymore reasons to kill me." He says, almost pleading. "You got it, Pop." You chuckled and walked out the door, closing it tightly behind you. You looked out at the busy block and took a deep sigh before walking down your porch steps and strutting down the street, on your way to the Cotton.

When you arrived, the scene was just like you imagined, only even bigger. Bright lights cascaded from all around the venue, and herds of people were beginning to gather. Cars were beeping and honking, forcing to navigate through traffic with all these people taking up the area, many cars stopping just to see what was going on. Above your head were the list of household names making an appearance tonight. Men and women all throughout the area were dressed up in their absolute best. Valet was working overtime & security was tight. It felt like something out of a movie.

You staggered in front the building, and before you knew it, it was your time to walk in. It was no turning back now.

There was a warm, dim but radiant tone to the room. You seen pimps, hustlers, singers, showgirls, every type of personality you could imagine.

Sounds of bass, saxophones, and pianos filled up the club with a soothing but strong undertone. You walked in, looking around in awe at the set up. The seats were almost filled. You were certain you had to sit in the back, but you didn’t mind. Being in the room was enough. Just as you turned to go back, you spotted your best friend Josephine, sitting in front with an older gentlemen.

“Y/N!,” She called out to you, waving you over and patting the seat next to her.

“Girl!” Overwhelm with excitement, you almost run to where she was and accepted her seat offer. “What are you doing here!”

“I didn’t tell you?” She questions. “My Uncle Johnny is playing bass for Mrs. Holiday. I tried calling to invite you, but your mom said you were busy.”

Typical mother. You really wish she’d stop answering for you. You rolled your eyes, but decided not to build on it.

“Oh, well good for him!” You say with sincerely, with a bright smile.

The two of you briefly caught up before the lights dimmed and the announcer came out to direct what would be one of the most riveting moments of your life.

A few acts had already performed, and you were completely enamored. Jazz and blues were your absolute favorite genre, but to hear it live and in person in all its emotion and vulnerability was euphoric. It was life changing. Entertained you were, but all in all, you felt a strong confirmation. You were certain that this was the path you wanted to take. Every strum of string, every note belted, sent chills down your spine. Singing and performing, especially with a live band felt so natural. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear, but together it went so well.

“And now ladies and gentlemen,” The announcer began. “I present to you, singer, musician, and hit phenomenon, Salome Otterbourne!”

He disappeared into the curtains, his presenting arm being the last thing to disappear as Salome approached the stage from the other end. The crowd erupted; cheers, claps, whistles. You turned to grab Josephine's wrists, that were wrested in her lap, the two of you looking at each other and exchanging an excited squeal. She was stunning. She stood tall above the silver microphone on its stand, wearing a powdered pink blouse and skirt set, with a hat and a flowered wrist garnish to match. She had on white silk gloves, covering the hands that held the stand, one up high and one down low, close to her lips and she began to sing her rendition of Bessie Smith's Tain't Nobody's Bizness If I Do. There ain't nothing I can do, or nothing I can say That folks don't criticize me But I'm goin' to do just as I want to anyway And don't care if they all despise me If i should take a notion To jump into the ocean 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do, do, do If I go to church on Sunday Sing the shimmy down on Monday Ain't nobody's business if I do, if I do

She sang every word as if she wrote it herself. It was fitting, seeing that Salome was a confident, self-assured woman. You looked around to scan her band. There were two guys on strings. Another on the sax. One on trombone. And to the left of Salome, the pianist. A woman. She was the only other woman on stage besides the main singer, and she was playing for her. It was rare to see female musicians. And not only was she playing piano, but she was singing backup as well. She was gorgeous. She had pretty, cinnamon brown skin, narrow, sparkly eyes, and the prettiest smile you ever saw. She was on the taller side and had a slim but sturdy frame. Her hair was in a pin-curled bob, parted to the side, accentuating her sharp jaw structure. "Who is that?" You semi-whispered to your friend, intrigued. "That's Rosalie Otterbourne." She leaned in and whispered back, eyes still glued to the stage. "Salome's niece, if I'm not mistaken." "Oh." You reply back. The only thing you could say really. She was breath-taking, and seemingly just as talented as her aunt. As the song continues, she briefly averts her attention the crowd and her eyes are met with yours. Stopping and holding her gaze for a second, fingers still tap dancing with the instruments keys, she slightly tilts her head and flashes you a smile. You felt your heart begin to take on an unfamiliar arrangement of beats. Taken aback, you sheepishly smiled back, shakily lifting up your hand to give a small wave. She acknowledges it before returning her attention to her piano and back at Mrs Salome as they join in on the next verse. If my friend ain't got no money And I say, "Take all mine, honey" 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do , do do If I give him my last nickel And it lives me in a pickle 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, If I do

“Holy shit, Y/N/N,” Josephine tugs at your side. “I think she just smiled at you.”

Okay so she saw that too. Surely it wasn’t for me directly. She was being courteous to her audience.

As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted once again.

“How y’all doing tonight New York? Y’all good?” She asks scanning out to the crowd. When answered by more cheers and whistles, she continued. “Alright, that’s what Salome Otterbourne like ta hear!”

“Tonight is a very special night for me. I’m back home and I have to say you all make me feel so welcomed.” She says with a sassy smile. She proceeds to introduces all the members of her band, leaving her for the end.

“And last but certainly not least, on the piano and back ground vocals, my lovely niece, manager, brain and backbone, Miss Rosalie Otterbourne!” She stands tall and blows a few two-handed kisses out across the room and seals her welcome acceptance with a big warm smile. For whatever reason, in the moment, it felt as if time stood still.

Time progressed as Salome and her band finished out their set. You were sad to see it end so soon. It was such a beautiful arrangement of music. People began to scatter; some leaving, some going to the bar, some going to dance. Some even went to ask for autographs and things of that nature. After awhile the chaos began to subside, and there Salome and her team was, alone, packing their things. You wondered if it was your time to approach. Even if she didn’t get to hear you sing, at least you could express to her how much her music quite literally saved you. As all these different thoughts browsed through your brain, your best friend, Josephine, took a page out of its catalog, as she often did, turning to say,

“Look there go Salome and them, finally by themselves. You should go say something!" She exclaimed, mid-chew of her olive that previously rested in the middle of her martini glass. You began to get sheepish. You had thought the same, but you now you were unsure. "Say what, Jose?" She turned to face you completely. "I don't know, but make your existence known. Tell her you sing or something!" "Yeah," you scoffed. "And embarrass myself?"

"Now, don't start that mess," She began, ready to get you together, as she often did. Not to mention she was the only one who could besides your grandpa. "You and I both know you're just as talented as anybody on that stage. And we always both know that you aren't shy." She was right. Being nervous about meeting an idol was regular, but you had prepared yourself for this moment over a million times. But you weren't sure why this specific time had you tucking your tail. "Besides," she continued. "Maybe you could introduce yourself to that pretty gal, Rosalie." She flashed you a smirk. Your eyes grew so wide they almost popped out of their sockets. Josephine could read you like a book. You never discussed or confessed aloud of your feelings toward other women. Not because you were ashamed, but you felt much like the song; ain't nobody business if I do. You choked out a breathy, nervous chuckle before you could began to speak. "Wha--" "Oh, save it. Now go!" She gave you a small but hefty push towards the direction of the stage. You stumbled forward, looking back to grill your best friend before straightening out your dress, dusting yourself off, and taking a deep breath. With that, you took all the confidence you did in that moment and used to it fuel your feet's motion toward the front of the stage. You'd been up there for all of maybe ten seconds before you were spotted. Her loud and heavy laugh drifting from off the end of her last sentence to her bandmate, she turned around from her kneeled position and gave you a small smile. "Hey Sugar. Can I help you?" "Oh n-no Miss Otterbourne I jus--" she shook her head and cut you off mid-sentence. "Please, child, Salome is just fine." You half-smiled at her correction. "Well, Salome. You were phenomenal tonight. Your voice and your arrangements are just what jazz has been missing." You say to her sincerely, hand in hand. "Aren't you sweet," She chuckles at your sincerity. "Well thank you, Sugar. I've worked hard for my sound. You know what they say, you want something done right --" "Do it yourself." You both say simultaneously and you laugh. "I'm with you on that one." You were pleasantly surprised how down to earth she was. "This is exactly why I'm in charge of keeping things together. Auntie where'd Ernie put that cas--" Rosalie came out from behind the stage, stopping mid-sentence once she'd seen you. "Who's this?" She points, asking what of your presence as if you weren't standing right there. You mentally laugh at her rudeness, knowing she didn't purposely mean to do it. "I'm Y/N." "She came to tell us how much she liked the show." Salome helped you finish your introduction. "Is that right," She asks rhetorically, raising her eyebrows, intrigued. "What part striked you the most?" You felt a wave of vibrations flow through your abdomen, immediately thinking of the glance the two of you shared in the midst of the performance. "W-well, I really enjoyed your rendition of T'aint nobody's business. I could relate on personal levels, but I felt that you could too. Especially that bridge. Salome, your vibrato is unreal. And with your tone, Rosalie, it blended perfectly." The singer and her accomplice looked at you with impressed eyes. "Well, well. That's some very specific terminology, Miss Y/N. Are we speaking to a fellow musician?" Rosalie asks, eager to hear your response. "Yes. A singer." You chose the confident route. You wanted to continue their interest. "Really?" Salome says matter-of-factly. "Well let us hear something, sugar!" You were having a hard time grasping that this was reality. You lived in the R.E.M part of your brain, playing out the different scenarios that would lead you to an interaction like this, but you never thought it'd be so soon. "You sure?" You ask honestly. "I know you're a busy woman." "Nonsense. Salome leave when Salome gets good and ready." She reassures you, speaking about herself in the third person once again.

"And if your voice is as pretty as you are, then we're in for a treat." Rosalie says, tossing a wink in your direction.

You felt a lump in your throat begin to form and hurriedly swallowed to force it to subside. You felt your cheeks began to heat up like a stove. Receiving a compliment was one thing, but receiving one from a woman of Rosalie's stature, successful, pretty, and poised, was another. You tried your hardest not to let it phase you, but you couldn't help but to let a flattered smile creep onto your face.

You briefly turned around to find your best friend across the room, smiling and giving you two thumbs up.

The band's bass player came over to take your hand and help you up the stage steps, directing you to where the mic was, still plugged in and hot.

Rosalie walked over to her piano and removed the cover she had just recently placed.

"Any preferences?" Rosalie asked.

"The Very Thought of You." You answered confidently, knowing how well the song complimented your voice. "Do you know it?"

"Billie Holiday." She says with a smile, proving her knowledge. "Like the back of my hand."

"Let's do it." You say, ready to take advantage of your moment.

Rosalie began fingering through the keys of her piano, playing up the intro of the song. As the melody began to fill up the venue, the people who remained in the building all focused their attention to the stage. You closed your eyes, let in a huge breath of air, and began to sing.

The very thought of you

And I forget to do

Those little ordinary things

That everyone ought to do

I'm living in a kind of daydream

I'm happy as a queen

And foolish though it may seem

To me that's everything

In this moment, it was you and the melodies that filled your ears alone. You sang just as you would if you were home in your room. Your voice was smooth and velvety. It could serenade you to sleep, or it could fill you with emotion. It was soft, two octaves away from breathy. It was easy to be attracted to your voice alone.

The mere idea of you

The longing here for you

You never know how slow the moments go

Till I'm near to you

I see your face in every flower

Your eyes in stars above

It's just the thought of you

The very thought of you, my love

You glanced in Rosalie's direction, secretly searching for a reaction, and was met by a dazed stare and watery eyes. Even outside of her usual, self-assured nature, she was so beautiful. You wondered what thoughts were flying through her pretty head.

You walked over to the piano and sat at the edge, close to Rosalie, and finished out the song beautifully, never breaking eye contact with her.

I see your face in every flower

Your eyes in stars above

It’s just the thought of you

The very thought of you, my love

Rosalie scanned your face with adored eyes as she played out the outro. You held your gaze, adlib-ing out the rest of the song and began to get lost in the pool of her pretty, chocolate brown eyes. The eruption of the crowd before you is the only thing that broke you from the hypnosis she placed you in.

You stood up again in front the crowd, placed your hands on your heart and gave a bow. You were so proud of yourself and simultaneously stunned. They loved you. The crowds reaction just confirmed all those nights you journaled about feeling called to be in the limelight. In the distance you could see Josephine, practically jumping up and down, mouthing “That’s my girl!”

It was a long, loud applause and standing ovation. At this point, people were beginning to get curious about who you were and where you even came from. With that, the cat-calling also began.

“Hold on, where you from, baby?!“ One man shouted.

“Can I take you home?” Another one followed.

You were too starstruck by your own self to be annoyed by men and their ignorance. In fact, it humored you in this moment. Once the crowd begin to subside, Salome ran up to you.

“Well I’ll be damned!” She says, clasping her hands together. “Sista you can blow!”

Nods and sounds of approval were given by the rest of the crew.

“Says you!” You say brightly. “Thank you, Salome. And thank you for allowing me to sing on your stage.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” She says, leaving you with slight confusion. “What does the rest of your weekend look like?”

Cleaning. Possibly babysitting. Absolutely nothing exciting.

“Nothing much, really.”

“Well, I have a couple more stops to make and perform at before we get back on the road. I want you to come perform with me.” She says sincerely.

You were there with a stunned look on your face. You were at a lost of words, and when you finally find them, they come out more blunt than you expected, “Quit playin’.”

The older woman laughed. “Serious as a heart attack, Sugar. Leave your home number with Rosalie, and stay by the phone. We have business to discuss.” She walked off to other side of the stage. You had to conceal your urge to scream your head off.

“Looks like you got yourself a job,” Rosalie began to walk up to you.

“Thanks to you. Where’d you learn to play like that?” you ask genuinely interested.

“Where’d you learn to sing like that? I thought you was just bull-jiving.” You both laugh.

“I’ve been singing since I was a little girl. My mother always put me in the church choir, and I enjoyed it, so I held onto it.”

“Well you definitely got soul.” She exclaimed.

“Thank you.” You say, blushing at her intense focus on you as she spoke.

“So tell me,” She moves closer to you. “Did you mean what you said?”

You tilted your head slightly at her comment. “What did I say?”

“I see your face in every flower, just the mere thought of you, my love” She speaks the lyrics of the song you just sang.

You weren’t expecting that at all, your body slightly trembling underneath the words her forwardness.

“It’s just a song, Miss Rosalie.” You professed, keeping as much ground as you could. “I am a performer, and I performed.”

“Ahh,” She says nodding sarcastically. “A performance, was it? A stunning one, might I add.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her sarcasm and her witt. The girl was indeed charming. And she wasn’t buying that you didn’t feel the tension that was brewing between the two of you.

“Rosie,” Salome called out. “We going on out to the car, when you ready, we can be on our way.”

“You got it,” Rosalie responded.

“Y/N!” Your best friend came running towards you, and you kneeled down towards the edge of the stage. “Girl you killed it! Brought tears to my eyes, I love seeing you in your element girl, you gone be rich!“ She rambles, saying the last part through clenched teeth. She stops and looks up.

“H-Hi Miss Otterbourne. Rosalie. I’m Y/N’s best friend Josephine.” She introduces herself.

“Hello darling,” Salome smiles. Rosalie waves.

“Well, girl,” she was now whispering. “I gotta go, my man is outside waiting for me, but call me when you get home and tell me EVERYTHING.”

You erupted in laughter. Josephine loved her some him.

“You so crazy. Enjoy yourself, and get home safe.” You say back, momentarily reaching for your best friends hand and squeezing it caringly.

“I will girl!” She runs off and out of the venue.

“Well, Miss Y/N,” Rosalie turns to you. “Where do you live? We could drop you off home.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary,” You assured her. “I live right up the street.”

Rosalie paused for a minute. “Come with me,” she grabbed your hand and the two of you scurried out through the exit backstage.

The warm outside breeze grazed your skin as the two of you began to walk semi-dark, summer streets. It wasn’t freezing, but it was a slight bitter chill that left you feeling more on the cold side.

“Here,” She took off her black, furry jacket and placed it around your arms. “It looks better on you anyway.” You gave a toothless smile at her comment.

“Did you actually enjoy my performance tonight?” You ask, somewhat serious.

“Did I?” She scoffs as if you said the most outrageous thing. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

You look down in nervousness. “You’re not so bad yourself. I mean I always knew she had other talented people in her circle but you,” You paused. “You have such a melodic voice. I enjoyed it very much.”

“Well thank you. Much like you, I keep my accolades undercover. It’s like a pleasant surprise. You think you know me and then— boom.” She illustrates her sentence, flicking her hands open, emulating fireworks.

“Well I don’t know how surprised I’d be considering how confident you are,” You say with an instance. “People like that always have something going on.”

“It takes one to know one, right?” She looks at you through low lids, her figure standing a few inches taller than you. For a while it’s silent. Suddenly, you blurt out something you’d only ever think of to yourself.

“Rosalie have you ever loved a woman?” You ask, almost regretting it, but still wanting to know her thoughts. She furrowed her eyebrows in interest, waiting for you to finish instead of answering right away.

“In the way.. you ain’t ‘supposed’ to love a woman?” you continued emphasizing the quotes, finishing your thought.

She sighed in relief. You sensed that you possibly could’ve opened a safe place for her to speak.

“I have loved women since I learned to walk and talk. My aunt and my band family are the only ones who know. They’d say, ‘Ole Rosalie couldn’t catch a man if she put a bra in a net!’ But they knew I didn’t want to. They ain’t give me no trouble. But everybody story ain’t like mine.” She opens up to you and you look at her with soft eyes.

“What about you?” She then turns to you, returning the question. “I’m guessing you have.”

“Nobody knows about me. Nobody but my bestfriend Josephine. I’ve never even been in love before. Not with a man either. But tonight, standing next to you I- I don’t know. I felt kinda like a school girl.”

Rosalie begins to laugh at your confession. She thought it was sweet. Secretly, she felt the same.

“Oh, stop it, It ain’t funny!” You say defensively, tapping her shoulder, but she continues to laugh. And you continue to fall. Before you could pull your hand back, she grabs it, and pulls you into her. The two of you stop walking momentarily, and it’s you, her, and this lonely street. She places a hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand, and comes close enough to your face to separate the two of you with a single piece of paper.

“Dance with me,” She breathes into you.

“But we ain’t got no music,” You say back, smiling foolishly at her impulses.

“Yes we do.” She begins to hum The Very Thought of You, and the two of you sway side to side, your feet moving in a circle around each other. You begin to him with her, the two of you harmonizing on every chorus. In this moment time stood still. An overwhelming feeling of adoration and excitement washed over you. You felt like the only girl in the world. She had a way of building on your romantic tension, all while making you feel like you gained another best friend. It was the perfect night, and you never wanted it to end.

The two of you stop your tango, and she pulls you in, kissing you ever so slowly and passionately. You felt yourself melt into her, the heat of your bodies keeping each other warm. You finally pull back and share a long gaze, her arms still holding you. Your moment was interrupting by a loud honk from a car coming around the corner.

BEEP BEEP.

“You two ready?” Salome smiled, hanging out the passenger window. “Get in!”

Rosalie led you to the back seat, her getting in first and you following, closing the door behind you.

“What’s your address, sugar?” Salome asked. You gave it to her, and off you all were.

“Oh,” Rosalie began, “Before I forget,” She grabs a pad and a pen from underneath the seat to give you. “Can’t leave without your number.”

You smile and take the materials from her hand.

555-8269 Y/N. You wrote in its red ink, drawing a small heart next to it, and kissing the paper, leaving the mark of your now halfway glossed lips. You folded it up and handed to her, and she delicately placed it in her purse. She slid her hand over top of yours, which now rested on your knee, and interlocked your fingers.

“I’ll be expecting you,” You say softly.

“First thing tomorrow morning.” She affirms to you, holding her intense gaze. She lifts up your hand and places a soft, gentle kiss on the back of it.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up in front of your house.

“Thank you again, Salome. I had a wonderful time.” You express, full of gratitude.

“Don’t mention it, doll. I’ve had a great night myself. Now make sure you stay by the phone, hear? You gone be a star. And I’m gone make sure of it.” She says, turning around to face you from her passenger.

“And I think my Rosalie is very fond of you.” She looks at her niece with a proud and accepting smile. Rosalie gives one back.

“Yes ma’am.” You say, blushing of slight embarrassment but also appreciation. You step out the car and walk up your concrete steps.

“Y/N,” Rosalie says out the window. You turn around.

“Yes?”

“Goodnight.” She says, holding onto every moment she has left of this night with you.

“Goodnight, Rosalie,” You say sweetly, but teasingly.

You walked into your home and crept up to your room, careful not to wake anyone up. You run up to look outside your window and watched as the car drove off. You couldn’t believe this was your life. But you were glad that it was.

All night your head spinned, accompanied by thoughts of you and Rosalie. The instant chemistry between the two of you left you in such a fuzzy state. It was the beginning of something new. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear.. but together, you went so well.

#mrsprettywright #rosalie otterbourne #rosalie x black reader #black sapphic #lesbian #harlem nights

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shanksbaby · 2 months

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Kuzan x reader - Kidnapping (pt 2)

pt 1 here

Ever since you found out about Kuzan and the kidnapping of the sixteen-year-old you decided that you needed answers, and you would demand them from your ex-lover. Kuzan has always been a mysterious guy, and that has always fascinated you, but right now…you needed answer, so you wouldn't accept any mysterious answer.

the problem was understanding how to meet him: you certainly couldn't show up on Blackbeard's island, they would have made you prisoner… and done who knows what (especially knowing that there were two members who loved rape young innocent women). You had gotten stronger over the years but not that strong to defeat a yonko and his crew alone.

and then Kuzan would have been less willing to talk in the presence of his other crewmates.

you started to find out about his movements, where possible (he was still a pirate, and the navy is not able to follow step by step). You had even asked around to other pirates if they had seen him without success. On the other hand, what could you expect? That they would say it risking the skin of a marine like you?

but you were still determined to see him to ask for explanations. So I approach you to one of the usual bars frequented mostly by pirates in disguise, hoping that no one recognizes you. As you are about to enter at a certain point you feel someone's hand grab your wrist and before you could understand what was happening, the person whose hand belonged to knock you out.

you wake up later in a dimly lit cabin, and judging by the background noises you hear not very far from the bar. You are not tied up but you are lying on an uncomfortable bed, and before you can focus on the other details you hear a deep voice, and you recognize it immediately: it is that of your former lover.

"I hear you're looking for me. Don't do it." he tells you taking two steps towards you, allowing you to see half your face illuminated by the candle placed on the bedside table near the bed you're on.

“Stop,” you tell him, grabbing his hand as he walks away. Oh god …. how you missed his touch of him … his warm body of him despite his devil fruit of him. But now you can't be distracted by it, you are here for questions "You know why I'm looking for you. Kuzan, I have-"

"It's not something that concerns you" Kuzan replies interrupting you with his classic lazy voice. He hasn't changed at all in this matter of remaining mysterious, huh? But that doesn't stop you. You need answers.

"It concerns me since I…" 'I still love you' but you trail off since you are embarrassed to admit that you still love your ex, especially since he has completely abandoned you "I wanna know why you are with that low life! You said you were still the same, but your previous self would never have joined pirates, much less Blackbeard and his men who rape, enslave and kill civilians" you almost yell, but tries to refrain to raise the voice further.

Kuzan says nothing, but doesn't walk away. He remains still with his back towards you, he is probably pondering whether to answer you or what to do, he has always been a thoughtful type after all. "As I already told Smoker, i am still the same. Who I ally with doesn't change that" he then speaks.

"Of course it changes! You're allying yourself with people who raped and killed. And you kidnapped a sixteen-year-old, Kuzan. Don't make fun of me. You changed" you at this yell, and with your hand you force him to turn towards you, then with one hand you grab his shirt "You betrayed yourself and you betrayed me.." you say this last part in a faint voice.

he doesn't say anything, he just watches you but you can't see the look because of his stupid glasses, but you still feel scrutinized inside, as if he's analyzing you. As if he was evaluating the situation, he was evaluating what to say or not tell you. Given his silence, you decide to continue talking, but just before opening your mouth he interrupts you (again)

"i didn't betray myself, i am still the same, i just don't fit in the idea you built." he gently grabs your hand that is still clinging to his shirt and moves it away from it "And I haven't betrayed you, we are not together anymore, we are nothing now. We are not lovers, we are not friends and we are not superior and subordinate. I left you, and I'd rather be left alone by you, I don't love you" he says in a voice hard and then walk away from you, leaving you petrified, knowing that the man you loved who until the day before he announced your breakup had always shown himself to be in love in turn, was breakhearting.

don't worry i will write a part three <3

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whereismyhat5678 · 8 months

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I finally watched the Russian Stage-play of Pizza Tower and

OH MY GOD

IT’S FUCKING AWESOME- 💥💥💥💥💥

Rant about how much I like the play at the bottom 👇

First of all I gotta give credits to the actors cause they were phenomenal- second-

THE COSTUME DESGIN-

I REALLY liked Pepperman’s costume and Vigilante’s and Noise and Noisette’s and just GRAAAAHHHH

Speaking of which I loved each and every one of them!!!

Pepperman was so fun and funny and I loved the part where Gustavo is telling Peppino how to defeat him and you can just see him painting casually in the background it’s so funny- and just in general I love his actor he was so funny and I loved his outfit 💓💓💓

(I’M MAKING A SEPARATE POST JUST ABOUT THE VIGILANTE BECAUSE HE’S SO FUCKING COOL 💥💞💥💞💥💞💥)

I ADORED the energy that Noise and Noisette gave off during the play THEY WERE PARTNERS IN CRIME THEIR LOVE WAS ADORABLE I CAN’T EXPRESS HOW MUCH THEY MADE ME JUST GO AAAAAHHHH THEY’RE SO CUTE 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

And I really need to give props to Fake Peppino, he was talking in reverse that must’ve been hard af!!!!! AND THE ARMS THEY’RE LANKY AND CREEPY AND I LOVED THE REVEAL OF HIM HE’S SO SCARY I LOVED IT I ACTUALLY GASPED WHEN I SAW HIM HE’S THAT CREEPY AND COOL 💥💥💥💥💥

Don’t think I’m gonna forget about Pizza Head either because HE WAS SO GOOFY AND EVIL HE WAS A MIX OF GOOFY AND EVIL AND I LOVED IT SM HE WAS SO COOKY AND WACKY AND CARTOONY AND I LOVED THE COSTUME AND ACTOR HE WAS SO FUNNY AND OMG I CAN’T EXPRESS IT BRO 💞💗💖💥💝💓💕

And don’t think I’m forgetting about Peppino because the actor did a great job just capturing the angry Italian man that’s also really anxious 😂 He did a great job and he made me chuckle a bunch of times 💕😂💕😂💕

AND FINALLY, the person that played Gustavo (and Brick too please show Brick some love 💖💖💖)- HE DESERVES THE WORLD JUST LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME HE ISN’T THE SWEETEST-

I CAN’T FATHOM HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM IN THIS PLAY HE’S SO FUNNY AND CUTE AND GRAAAAAAAAAH- 💗💖💓💝💖💥💝💓💝💖💖💗💝😭😭😭😭💝💓💖💥💗💓💝💕💥

I SERIOUSLY HAVE DOZENS OF PHOTOS OF THIS PLAY IN MY PHONE IT WAS THAT FUN AND I CAN’T IMAGINE HOW INCREDIBLE IT WAS TO SEE IT LIVE-

The actors and behind the scenes actors did so good I immensely only show respect to them and they probably had as much fun as the viewers did seeing it, please go check it out it’s amazing 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

(And like I said I’m gonna do a separate post for Vigilante since I ADORED his character, and I did sketch him as well so- 😗💓)

#Pizza Tower #Big rant on how much the play was awesome #ALL OF YOU SHOULD CHECK IT OUT CUZ I JUST WAYCJED IT AND LOVED IT #MAJOR RESPECTS TOWARDS THE ACTIRS AND EVERYONE WHO WORMED ON IT #Gustavo my beloved he was adorable 💞💝💕💓💖💥💗💞💝💓💕💖💥💗💓

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rxyhiraeth · 3 months

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thoughts on pjo ep 6

also SPOILERS FOR PJO

i’m just kinda getting all my thoughts out on this episode! it was very interesting and VERY different from the books but not in a terrible way! i trust uncle rick with this show and im more so just curious why some things were changed from the books so much, and im sure a lot of these are going to be answered themselves in these last 2 episodes.

i also love hearing everyone’s ideas about what is going to happen from this point on cause ik even book fans are LOST

no zebra moment! i can’t think of any other moments in TLT that would give us time to learn about percy being able to talk to them, so this is probably going to get brought up for the first time with the hippocampi in SOM which actually works out. i would have loved to see this scene, but i can get that it would have taken up a good chunk of time, and for production reasons probably had to be skipped for now or entirely cut from the season.

clarisse?? traitor?? *LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE* i have my thoughts on why they did this, but also not?? i figured they did this to balance out the conversation percy and annabeth have with hermes about luke in order to take some attention away from it as to not make it TOO obvious he is the real traitor, but also why even have that conversation about luke in the first place then?? idk. i’m not sure if this is something that will be explained or make more sense with the rest of the season, and if not, i hope uncle rick can explain why this choice was made. there are so many choices in this episode that i would love to hear explained as to why they decided on it!

going off the last point, i do feel like they are slightly forcing the luke is the traitor point for the audience. we never got this much about luke in the books while they were on their quest, and even when he was talked about, nothing really pointed in the direction of him being the traitor. maybe im just an idiot but i remember the luke reveal being pretty shocking! i hope they don’t force it too much and allow everyone to guess it before the reveal even happens! maybe this is just me wanting it to be just like the books, but i guess they do need to hint at it here and there in ways the books didn’t?

also am a little weary about the “old married couple” comment. i hope they don’t speedrun their relationship. this is a SLOWBURN i hope it stays this way!

i get not having poker face in the casino. rick HATES those movies and probably wants to make this as different as possible while still being accurate to the books. honestly tho, dua lipa was a good ass choice. i can’t complain about that.

HELLO I HEAR NICO!!!!

also CAMP JUPITER CAMPERS???? MAYBE???

besides being confused as to why the casino scene itself was pretty different from the books, it was a great event regardless. extremely well produced and was so fun to look at and watch for little details with everyone in the background. that being said, i was hoping for a bit more of a montage type scene. percy and annabeth didn’t get to have any real fun like in the books, it was mostly all grover. i don’t really know shit about production of tv shows and such, but i’m shocked the casino scene was changed this much from the book. but uncle rick i trust you wholeheartedly.

i did love them using the casino card to get a taxi to santa monica, but the hermes taxi in this was better. i was giggling the whole time. percy “i fought and killed a minotaur how hard can driving be” jackson my sweet child. and percy running the taxi into the damn wall because he was busy looking at annabeth??? love them so much

the only two things that REALLY confused me as they are changing major plot points:

1: 4 pearls?

2: the solstice is OVER??

the 4 pearls defeats the whole purpose of them arguing about who is going to stay in the underworld. either this plot point is going to change a lot, OR they are going to lose one of the pearls on the way, but if that is the case, what’s the point of giving them 4 if they are still going to end up with 3? i’m assuming it is going to be the former option, as getting 4 just to lose 1 for the sake of it doesn’t make much sense.

solstice??? over??? i’m very confused on this. this feels like it defeats the whole purpose of continuing the quest, but obviously percy is still determined to get sally (king), so we aren’t just ending the quest. i’m curious to see how these two plot points effect the rest of the season and why these were chosen instead of keeping the original plot!

overall i did really like this episode!! obviously it was very different from the book, but we can’t expect this entire show to be EXACTLY like the book. i would love to hear rick talk about a lot of the choices made throughout the season and why they were done. he has seemed very proud of this show and how it has played out, so i trust him with whatever he decides to do with it.

also if you have thoughts on the reasoning behind any of these changes PLS I WANNA KNOW

#percy jackson #pjo spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percybeth #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #clarisse pjo #luke castellan #annabeth chase #rick riordan

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

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How about 6 and Yennskier for the fake dating prompts? 💚

6. On Valentine’s Day everything seems to have a discount for couples, so why not pretend to be one to save some money and have fun?

Here's a Yennskier modern AU with mentions of background Geraskier and Yenralt. Can be read as pre-OT3.

When Yennefer’s phone rings and she sees Jaskier’s photo—the most unflattering picture of him she could find, mid-blink with his nose scrunched up like he’s about so sneeze—on her screen, she wishes she could just send it to voicemail. But the last time he called her, it was because Geralt had gotten his insides ripped out by a grave hag and needed immediate healing. With a groan, she answers. And today was going so well; she’s made two lobbyist assholes cry and it’s not even lunchtime.

“What?” she asks by way of greeting.

“Yennefer!” Jaskier sounds cheerful, so Geralt must not be bleeding out in a swamp somewhere. “How are you?”

“Besides my sudden headache, fine. What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something? Perhaps I just want a chat.”

Yennefer doesn’t answer, just sips her coffee and waits for him to get tired of silence.

“Geralt has been in the mountains on a contract for a basilisk,” Jaskier says.

“I'm aware.”

“Well, they got hit with nearly two feet of snow up that way and so he’s stranded. He won’t be back in time for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”

“How fortunate for Geralt.”

“No, it’s really not, because we were supposed to go to dinner at The Alchemist. They have a special five-course meal for Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s fortunate there was a snow storm, or Geralt probably would have let the basilisk gnaw off his leg to get out of that.”

Jaskier ignores her. “But he’s stuck on the other side of Redania and I need a date.”

“Well, you can always go with your favorite person. Yourself.”

“I can’t go alone, Yennefer. It’s a couple’s event.”

“I’m still not sure how this is my problem. I would never bespell someone to endure your company for an entire dinner. I’m not a monster.”

“Since when?”

“Goodbye, Jaskier.”

“Wait!” he says quickly. “You could come with me. And don’t tell me you have plans. You’re like Geralt. You wouldn’t willingly go out on Valentine’s Day unless you were bribed.”

She can’t argue there. “So what makes you think I’d celebrate it with you of all people?”

“Besides a free meal at the finest restaurant in Oxenfurt?”

“I work in politics. I eat at far finer places than The Alchemist every week.”

“There’s endless refills of Toussainti sparkling wine included.”

Now, that is tempting. “Don’t you have other people you can invite? You have plenty of paramours.”

“And they all already have plans.” Jaskier’s voice takes on a wheedling tone. “Did I mention I’m paying? You could get the most expensive thing on the menu.”

Yennefer has been to The Alchemist. Some of their dinners cost as much as a week’s worth of groceries.

“Also, I think it will make Geralt happy if he thinks the two of us are getting along,” Jaskier adds.

Their mutual lover, Geralt, is the only thing that Yennefer and Jaskier have in common and the only reason Yennefer didn’t curse Jaskier into something slimy years ago. She doesn’t know what Geralt, who she considers a man of reasonably good taste, sees in his idiot of a musician, but he adores Jaskier. And Jaskier is right; it would make Geralt happy if she and Jaskier made an effort to tolerate each other’s company. She blows out a breath. “What time should I meet you there?”

“Don’t be silly,” he says and she immediately regrets everything. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’ll pick you up at six.”

***

Yennefer thinks about backing out of their arrangement as soon as Jaskier shows up at her door, wearing a peacock feather-patterned suit over a bright pink button-up with the top three buttons undone to show off a generous amount of chest hair, because Jaskier seems to not know how to button up his shirts properly. But closing the door in his face just feels like an admission of defeat at this point, so she squares her shoulders and follows him to his car. She doesn’t even insult his outfit, because it’s such low-hanging fruit that it seems beneath her to even bring it up.

She thinks about backing out again and they arrive at the restaurant to find it lit by soft candlelight, a pianist playing in the corner, and rose petals scattered across the table. She expected a Valentine’s Day dinner to be filled with the trappings of romance, but this is excessive.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she grumbles as she takes her seat across from Jaskier.

He grins at her unrepentantly. “I’m so sorry to drag you to dinner at one of Redania’s finest restaurants. You look lovely, by the way.”

Yennefer arches an eyebrow at him. “You look like a peacock exploded on you.” Alright, it might be low-hanging fruit, but she can't not comment on it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, darling.” He bats his eyelashes at her as the server comes to fill two flutes with sparkling wine.

They sit in silence for a while, nursing their flutes of wine. When the server comes to take their order, Yennefer orders the most expensive of the three entree options, because she likes the way it makes Jaskier’s eye twitch. Around them, the dining room is filled with couples. She and Jaskier may be the only ones not making eyes at each other across the table.

As if he knows what she’s thinking, Jaskier reaches for her hand.

Yennefer snatches it away. “What are you doing?”

“Playing the part,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s Valentine’s Day. This is a dinner for couples.”

“What, do you think we’ll be kicked out if the servers don’t see us playing footsie under the table?”

“There’s an idea.” Something brushes her ankle.

“No,” she says flatly and Jaskier’s foot quickly retreats.

The server brings the first course, a charcuterie board that’s barely more than a few slivers of meat, a hunk of cheese, a handful of olives, and a dollop of apricot jam. Places like this always skimp on the food, Yennefer thinks as she picks at the cheese.

“What do you normally do on Valentine’s Day?” Jaskier asks.

“You know what I normally do on Valentine’s Day. I sit at home with a glass of wine like someone who doesn’t want to get overcharged for a couple of slices of ham and some old cheese.”

Jaskier snorts, but tries to cover it up with a cough. “Oh come on, I know you have a romantic side.”

“Do you, now?”

“Geralt talks.”

“Since when?”

His lips twitch. “What is it with you and unicorns? I’ve been dying to know ever since he told me about it.”

Yennefer puts down her glass of wine hard. “He told you about that?”

“In his defense, he’d taken way too many potions and he was out of his mind. I’m pretty sure he thought I was you.”

“Well, that’s not flattering,” Yennefer says.

“You’re right, it’s not. I had to start getting facials after that. Can’t go around being mistaken for a withered crone.”

She kicks him under the table.

“And here I thought you didn’t want to play footsie.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “Do you really have unicorn underwear?”

“I don’t know. Do you really have a tramp stamp?”

His mouth drops open in offense. “Geralt told you about that?”

She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Geralt talks.”

“It’s not a tramp stamp. It’s a very tasteful lower back tattoo.”

“Lose a bet?”

“No, a game of cards. Never play Gwent against Valdo Marx. The man is a shark.”

The server brings the second course, which is apparently a deconstructed salad. Yennefer realizes that she barely tasted the charcuterie board; she was too busy talking to Jaskier. She also realizes that she’s leaning close to Jaskier; they probably look like one of those dewy-eyed couples at the other tables. Quickly, she straightens her back and focuses on her salad.

“This is a piece of lettuce,” she says. “What’s deconstructed about it?”

“It’s quite a large piece of lettuce.”

“It’s lettuce. It could be the size of the table, but it still is what it is. How much did you pay for this?”

“Let’s not talk about it.” Jaskier nibbles at the edge of his lettuce.

“What about you?” Yennefer asks. “What do you and Geralt usually do on Valentine’s Day?”

“Sit at home with a movie and some takeout.” Jaskier shrugs. “I thought it might be nice to try something different this year.”

“This is different.” Yennefer pokes at the lettuce.

Not long after, the server brings their soup, seafood bisque. Yennefer is taking her first bite when there’s a squeal from across the room. She looks around to see a young man down on one knee on the other side of the room, ring box in hand while his date has her hand clapped over her mouth in delight.

“Aww.” Jaskier smiles at the sight. “You think they’ll get free dessert for that?”

At the glint in his eye, Yennefer says, “No.”

“Come on.” Jaskier fiddles with one of his many rings. “I hear the tiramisu here is to die for.”

“And you may die if you get down on one knee right now.”

“You wouldn’t. Geralt would never forgive you.”

“I think he’d learn to live with the peace and quiet.”

Jaskier sighs. “You’re right. I can’t propose without a proper engagement ring. How tacky. When I fake propose to you, Yennefer, I promise I’ll do it with the finest ring I can find for under fifty crowns.”

Yennefer rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yes, but I’m your idiot for another hour or so.” He winks.

“I’d rather chew on this wine glass. Which I may need to do anyway if these portions continue to be tiny.”

“They really are, aren’t they?” Mournfully, Jaskier looks down at his soup. “I suppose that’s why this dinner was almost affordable. There’s no food.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” Yennefer bats her eyelashes in an imitation of Jaskier and is gratified when he snorts bisque up his nose.

When their entrees come out, she’s not surprised when her meal is the tiniest filet she’s ever seen, while Jaskier’s shrimp risotto is three pieces of shrimp on top of a tiny pile of rice.

Jaskier looks up at her, lips quirking into a smirk. “Can you imagine Geralt right now?”

Yennefer snorts, lowering her voice into a rasp. “What am I supposed to do with this, Jaskier? I’ve seen pixies bigger than this steak.”

“That sounded just like him.”

Yennefer is pleased, despite herself. “He wouldn’t have lasted past the piece of lettuce.”

“No, probably not.”

“I’m sorry he’s not here,” Yennefer says.

“I’m not. I would never hear the end of this. Besides, if he were here, you wouldn’t be.”

“I’m glad I’m an adequate consolation prize.”

“I’m actually having a lovely time.” Jaskier’s eyes twinkle in the candlelight. “Despite the lettuce.”

Perhaps Yennefer has had too much of the sparkling wine, because she feels a surge of something that might be fondness. She’s never quite gotten what Geralt saw in this flighty, ridiculous creature—despite the cute little ass, which even she can admit is quite nice—but now, she can almost see it. When he’s not peacocking about, he’s not terrible.

“There’s a good burger place around the corner,” she says without thinking. “If you want to go get a proper dinner after this.”

“I’ve been there.” Jaskier looks surprised. “I wouldn’t think a burger joint would be up to Yennefer of Vengerberg’s high standards.”

“Sorceresses need to eat just like anyone else.”

“Well, then.” He grins. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Hardly. But Geralt says you get whiny when you’re hungry and given how irritating you are when you’re not hungry, I’d hate to see that.”

“Fair point.” Jaskier makes a show of considering it. “Fine, let’s go get burgers after this. Anything for my beautiful Valentine.”

She kicks him under the table again.

His grin takes on a wicked edge. “You know, they have great milkshakes there. We could get one with two straws and gaze soulfully into each other’s eyes.”

“No.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“I’m not sharing spit with you.”

He gasps. “Yennefer, there are plenty of people who would be honored to share spit with me.”

“That’s what I’m worrying about. Splitting a milkshake with you is like splitting a milkshake with half the Continent.”

“And here I was starting to enjoy your company.” He looks at her with narrowed eyes, but he’s grinning and Yennefer is surprised by another surge of that almost-fondness.

She pushes her glass of wine away. Yes, she’s definitely had a little too much.

***

Fake dating prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #yennskier #jaskier x yennefer #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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