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stylesispunk · 3 months

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"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

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summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

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dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated. There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 10, Uneasy - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, insecurity, nosey gossip, some shady actions, Jade Carthage (she's the worst), Pocket's approaching her bullshit limit.

Word Count: 4.1k

Previously On...: You had a good heart-to-heart with Pepper, who suggested you start going back to therapy to deal with your constant feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

A/N: ::lobs shit at fan like hand grenades:: I'm sorry. I was up writing Chapter 20 from about 6pm yesterday through 5am this morning, and I'm pleased to say it's finished! I think it's the longest so far, with ten parts. And it's dark. I can't believe how dark I went with it, as it was absolutely not my intention, but there was a lot of negative stuff that needed to happen, and I kinda wanted to keep it to one chapter so I didn't have to dwell on it. I might have to take a day or two off from writing to kind of clear my head and reset my emotions, lol.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls

Your feet pounded the treadmill, sweat dripping down your forehead, breathing heavy. You were approaching the end of your ten-mile run and about to go into your cool-down in the Avengers’ training facility of the Tower. Bucky had left early that morning for a training session with Jade. Between his obligations and your therapy sessions, you were seeing each other less than ever before– and having less sex. Between all the additional training sessions and demands on his time, you’d sometimes be lucky if you got a kiss goodnight from Bucky, let alone getting him to make you come. You tried to convince yourself that wasn’t the end all, be all, but you were left with a plethora of pent-up sexual energy that needed to be released. You'd thought about taking Nat up on her offer for a sparring session, but every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Bucky in less than family-friendly situations, and you knew if you had any hope of going up against the Black Widow, you needed all of your wits about you, so the treadmill it was. At least this way, you could let your mind wander without getting your ass kicked.

The treadmill slowed itself to a stop and you pulled your earbuds from your ears while you caught your breath. Picking up your hand towel, you wiped at the sweat on your face and took a look around the training room. The space was occupied by SHIELD agents in various states of exercise, but you noticed a small crowd had gathered around one of the sparring mats in the far corner of the room. Curiosity getting the better of you, you grabbed your water bottle and made your way over to see what was going on. People moved aside to let you by, and you heard whispers of "his girlfriend" as they watched you pass, so you knew that, whatever people were gawking at, Bucky had to be at the center of it.

When you reached the front of the crowd, your eyes were immediately drawn to Bucky as he moved slowly around his opponent in a predatory circle, sweatpants riding low and showcasing his Adonis belt, and for a brief moment, you saw yourself on your knees, running your tongue along the defined musculature. You shook your head to clear it of the image. God, you needed his dick. Desperately.

You focused instead on the way his body moved, lithe and graceful on his bare feet, like a lion ready to pounce on its prey. And the prey... Well, fuck. His prey was Jade Carthage, and she looked ready to devour him as they circled each other. They danced like that for a while before she launched herself at him at such a high speed, your eyes could barely track the movement. The crowd around you cheered as she lunged for his midsection, but Bucky managed to side-step her, using her momentum to his advantage. He tapped her on the back of the knees, sending her to the mat, but she was up in an instant, throwing herself onto Bucky's back and wrapping her legs around his midsection and her arms around his neck as she tried to pull him down.

"God, they make sparring look so hot," said a voice to your left. You turned your head and saw two SHIELD agents, a male and female, making commentary on the match before you. "Do you think they're fucking?" the male asked.

"Pfft," the female agent scoffed, "Barnes would never. He's with Stark's CTO. From what I hear, he's absolutely rabid for her." You couldn't help the warm feeling that bubbled in your stomach at the idea of Bucky being rabid for you.

"Yeah, I know, but come on-- there's no way some science nerd is going to compare with her," he said, nodding his head toward Jade, who now had her thighs wrapped around Bucky's head, much to the delight of the crowd, and the warm feeling in your stomach turned into a cold, heavy rock. "I mean, look at her; she's a fucking goddess. She's got the serum, too. I mean, guy like him, think he's going to be satisfied with a normal girl long-term? Nah, give it time; he'll get bored. Vixen's much more his speed. Fifth floor’s already placing bets on when he’ll start doing her on the side."

"Wow," said the female agent, sarcastically, "aren't you the romantic?"

"Just watch them," the male said. "There's something happening there."

The female agent cocked her head and studied Bucky and Jade as they traded blows. "Okay," she conceded, "maybe there's something."

"Maybe you two should mind your own fucking business and not speculate about things you know nothing about," a husky voice said from behind them. You turned to see Natasha, hands on her hips, glaring at the two agents, who, under the former assassin's scrutiny, had the good sense to look ashamed… and a little frightened. "Now, why don't you stop gawking and go do something useful with yourselves, considering, in case you happened to forget, you're on the fucking clock." She narrowed her eyes and tapped her fingers against her hip impatiently as the two muttered apologies before slinking off into the crowd. She watched them go before turning back to you and slipping her arm around your waist. You draped an arm around her back and leaned you head on her shoulder in thanks.

"Don't listen to a word those dumb fucks say," she told you as she watched the sparring match continue to unfold in front of you. "They're just stirring up trouble for shits' sake."

You hummed in agreement, but the seed had been planted, and you were terrified everyone else was seeing something you were being willfully oblivious to. You watched as Bucky and Jade moved, trading blows and blocks in a blur of motion. You knew he didn't have many opportunities to spar with someone on his level, who could keep up with him in strength, skill, and stamina, but there was something about the look in his eye as moved around the space, an excitement, a hunger, that made your stomach feel like it was full of lead. It was a look you knew well-- you saw it every time he pinned you beneath him, whispering sweet, sinful promises into the crook of your neck as he thrust into you and took you beyond reason.

“They’re not blind, though, are they Natty?” you asked, your voice small. As you watched, the sight before you shifted subtly as Bucky reached for Jade, his large hand enclosing around her wrist before twisting swiftly, forcing her arm behind her. He guided her to the ground, his body close against hers as he kept her in place. The interaction was professional, strictly within the limits of their training session. Yet, it unsettled you. You felt a pit of discomfort growing in your stomach as whispers bubbled from the crowd around you.

“You know Barnes better than anyone alive, Pocket,” Nat assured you, squeezing your waist gently. “I’d say even better than Steve at this point; do you honestly think there’s something there?”

You couldn’t answer her, every insecurity you’d had about Jade Carthage bubbling to the surface with a renewed vengeance. Especially now that you’d heard other people giving voice to your deep-seated fears that Bucky was out of your league and it was only a matter of time before he realized that, too, and left you.

Throughout it all, Bucky seemed oblivious to the audience or perhaps he was just too focused on Jade to give them any attention. As he released her and backed away, giving her space to rise, his gaze was trained entirely on her. His eyes were darkened with a serious intensity that stirred something within you, an overwhelming cocktail of fear, jealousy and a raw possessiveness a thousand times stronger than anything you'd felt before.

You fucking hated it.

Jade went on the offensive, swinging out to attempt a roundhouse kick to Bucky's chest, but the super soldier's reflexes were too quick; he grabbed her ankle before she could make contact and threw her off balance. With the grace of a gazelle, Jade used the momentum to spin, crouching low to sweep Bucky's legs out from underneath him. You watched as he fell back to the mat, and quick as lightning, Jade was on top of him, thighs straddling either side of his waist as she held a sparring dagger to his throat. They were both panting heavily from the exertion, but Bucky smiled up at Jade, pride evident on his face.

Sensing that the show was over for now, the crowd began dispersing, almost as if the current moment between the former combatants was too intimate for them to witness, leaving only you and Natasha at the side of the mat. You watched as Jade leaned down to whisper something in Bucky's ear, and he laughed his beautiful, genuine laugh.

The reaction made you squeak in discomfort. It wasn't a loud noise, and no normal person would have heard you from that distance, but Bucky Barnes was no normal man. At the sound, his eyes snapped to where you stood and, to your absolute horror, his face fell. You watched his smile falter as he saw the expression on your face, replaced with something looked alarmingly like guilt.

Jade's dark eyes followed his gaze and when she saw you, she broke into a wide grin, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don’t get your panties in a twist, (Y/L/N). Just a friendly spar, right Barnes?" She asked, her voice ringing out clear across the room. Bucky nodded, looking stunned and incapable of speech as he continued to meet your gaze.

You watched as she rolled off him, extending the contact of their bodies a little longer than necessary, and extended her hand. Bucky stared at it for a moment before accepting the help and heaving himself off the mat. He shook his head at her, his gaze slowly returning to yours. This was not how you had envisioned your day unfolding.

Natasha squeezed your waist, attempting to offer some comfort, but it wasn't enough to shake off the dark cloud of unease that was settling over you. Ignoring the murmurs of reassurance from Natasha, you pulled away from her and made your way towards Bucky, who was now standing with Jade, both of them looking a little worse for wear after the intense sparring match. Bucky watched your approach with apprehension in his eyes, clearly unsure of what you were going to say or do. Jade smirked at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement, but there was something else behind that smug façade – an insidious satisfaction.

"Barnes," you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Sweetheart," he replied, reaching out to touch your arm. You flinched back from the contact and noticed how his expression fell even further.

Jade opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with a wave of your hand.

"I need to speak with Bucky. Alone," you said, giving her a pointed look. Jade looked surprised for a moment before she shrugged and walked away, leaving the two of you alone on the edge of the training mat.

Bucky looked like he wanted to say something, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before just clearing his throat. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, the sheen of sweat on his brow glinting in the overhead lights. His gaze flickered between your face and the floor, savoring every second as if it might be his last.

"I... I,” he stuttered, helplessly. You knew he was lost, unsure of how to navigate the waves of anger and hurt that rolled off you in palpable tides.

You crossed your arms over your chest defensively; your heart thudded painfully against your ribs, threatening to break free from its cage. You wanted to yell, cry, demand to know what was going on between him and Jade... But most of all, you just wanted to reach out and touch him, assure him that everything would be okay.

"Bucky," you finally said, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of your emotions. "What's happening between you two?"

Confusion passed over Bucky's face, "Wha- what do you mean?" he asked, his gaze steady on your eyes.

"You and Carthage," you clarified, hating how your voice hitched at the end of her name. "There's something going on between you two. Something... something more than just sparring partners. I want to know what it is."

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment he looked genuinely shocked before it was replaced by a dawning comprehension. His shoulders sagged as he sighed deeply, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"No," He murmured desperately, reaching out to grip your hand. This time, you didn't pull away. Instead, you watched as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, as if trying to comfort you. "I promise there's nothing going on between us."

"Then why does everyone who just watched that match think that there is?" you questioned quietly, biting down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

Bucky paused for a moment, his gaze shifted from your eyes to the hand he held. His thumb had stopped tracing circles and instead was now holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I might just be her trainer, maybe even her friend, but we get onto that mat, it has to become more than that. Something different." He paused, a look of deep concentration transforming his face as he searched for the right words. "We have to push each other to be better, stronger. Fighting skills determine whether you live or die out there, and that unlocks something in here. Emotions run higher, because you know that every perfected move, every successful hit landed, decreases your chances of coming home in a bodybag. Your partner’s victories are your victories, because the better they are, the better they’ll be at keeping you alive. It makes things seem more intense then they actually are, creates a connection that only exists here” he pointed to the mat, “and in the field." He gave a heavy exhale before his eyes met yours again, a pleading look to them. "She's not you."

A bitter laugh escaped from your lips before you were able to stop it. "No. She's a fucking superhuman goddess and I'm just a boring science nerd."

Bucky moved back as if you'd slapped him. "What-- Where-- Why would you ever say something like that?" He reached for your hands, cupping them in his own.

You couldn't meet his gaze. "People talk, Buck. I'm not the only one who looks at you two out there and sees fucking foreplay. And they're gossiping about it. Fuck, Bucky, people are placing bets on how long it's going to be before you get bored of me and start sleeping with her."

His eyes widened at your words, his grip on your hands tightening. "Who? Who the fuck is saying that? How fucking dare they?!" He looked horrified and angry; a dangerous combination for the likes of Bucky Barnes. As he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.

"Only because of how you're acting, Bucky! The chemistry between you two on the mat is undeniable." You tried to pull your hands from his, tried to put some distance between you, but his fingers only tightened around yours. "And even if it's not true...there's a part of me that believes it. Because why would you settle for me when you could have someone who's your equal in every goddamn way?"

Bucky was silent for a few moments, looking at you with such intensity that you felt like he was trying to see into your very soul. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the intensity disappeared from his face, replaced with a look of utter resolve.

"Then let me make it clear for you," he said, voice low and determined. "I may spar with Vixen. I may laugh with her, talk with her, and yeah, even enjoy her company, as much as you might hate to hear it. But it ends there. I’m her trainer inside the gym and her friend outside of it." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "But you, you're something entirely different."

He reached up to gently cup your face, his cool metal hand providing a stark contrast to the heat flushing your cheeks. "You’re my solace in this fucked up, too fast future I found myself in. When I'm with you, I'm not the Winter Soldier or another Avenger. I'm just... Bucky. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, and I only get to be him when I’m with you." The earnestness in his voice was nearly enough to make your heart break on the spot.

"Your love is my strength," he continued. "And your faith in me... that's the redemption I’ve been searching for, the amends I’ve spent so long trying to find." His fingers were soft against your skin as he pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I love you in ways that I can't begin to express. All I care about is you. You, who's never boring, constantly keeping me on my toes with your wit and sense of humor. I love that you’re a science nerd, the most brilliant and beautiful woman I've ever met, inventin’ and creating things no one’s ever even imagined before to make the world a safer place. You, who sees past the metal arm and the nightmares, and loves me for who I am."

His hand moved along your jaw, his thumb softly grazing your cheek. His gaze was intense, filled with so much love and longing that it took your breath away.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he reiterated the words you’d spoken to him the night he’d confessed his own insecurities to you. "And I'm certainly never getting bored of you. So yeah, Vix may be my occasional sparring partner, but you...you are my life partner, and you’re going to be until the day I die. She’s never going to come close to you."

His words echoed in your ears, shattering the wall of uncertainty within you. Swallowing hard, you met his gaze, trying to find any trace of insincerity or doubt. But all you found was love – raw and beautiful love that rendered you speechless. He took your hands in his again, gently squeezing to emphasize his words.

"Promise?" You asked, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

Bucky gave you a soft, reassuring smile. "I promise. On everything that I am, and everything that I'll ever be," he said with certainty. His grip on your hands tightened, as if to emphasize the truth in his words.

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. You blinked them away, not wanting to break this moment of connection. His expression was open, vulnerable; it was a sight reserved for you and no one else.

"Just… I just need you to tell me if your feelings ever change," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "I can handle any truth but, if you lie to me, it’ll destroy me."

Bucky's thumb brushed away a tear that had managed to escape from the corner of your eye. "Nothing will change, doll. Not how I feel about you." He then leaned in closer until his forehead gently rested against yours. "You're stuck with me, remember?"

A small laugh bubbled out of you even as more tears spilled down your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to melt in the comfort and warmth of him. "I'm sorry for being so insecure," you murmured into his chest. “Therapy is supposed to be helping me get over this.”

"Hey," he said, tipping his face up to meet his gaze, "there's no need for that. If you can work me through my insecurities about Steve, this is the least I can do for you. Besides, therapy’s a process, not an over-night cure."

His words brought a small smile to your face. The sincerity in his voice was soothing, like the soft lull of the ocean against the sand. "Do you think we're crazy, Bucky? For being like this?"

Bucky chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours, "I think we've both been used and hurt, doll. Damaged." He kissed your forehead and you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips on your skin. "And I think that's made both of us terrified that we're not worthy of being loved the way we deserve. But no, I don't think we're crazy. At least, not about this, anyway."

You huffed out a laugh. "I love you so much," you murmured into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you. How I would survive."

"You won't lose me, doll," Bucky said, his voice a soothing balm to your fears. "As long as there's breath in my body, I'll always be by your side. I will fight for you, for us."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his gaze resolute. "And if it ever comes down to it," he added, his words barely above a whisper, "I'll choose you. Over anyone else, over anything else. Always."

There was something in the way he spoke, the conviction in his voice that made your heart flutter in your chest. You believed him. You believed in him. You believed in the both of you, together.

"Promise?" you asked again, needing the confirmation more than you had ever needed anything else.

"I promise," he said instantly, pulling you closer into his embrace.

The warmth of his body against yours was comforting; it felt like home. It was as if all the pieces of your broken past were being put back together; mended by Bucky’s words, his promises, and the unconditional love he held for you. You pressed your face further into his chest, your tears soaking the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand coming up to gently lift your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "Why are you still crying?"

You tried to laugh at yourself through your tears. "Because I'm relieved... and a little overwhelmed."

His thumb brushed away your tears again and then his lips were on yours in a tender kiss that told you without words just how much he cared about you.

As the kiss deepened, it was as if all the chaos of the world simply melted away. It was just the two of you in that moment, connected by not only a kiss but by the beating of two hearts that echoed the same rhythm - a testament to your shared love.

"Alright, you two," came Natasha's voice, finding its way into your bubble, "break it up. While I'm thrilled you're good, this is a training facility, not a lover's lane."

Bucky smiled down at you at Nat's words. "She's right, doll. Besides, I think I owe you a special sparring match of our very own."

You looked at him, an incredulous laugh leaving you. "Buck, I love you, but there's no way in hell I'm going to spar with you; you'll destroy me."

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, so softly you doubted Natasha could hear him. "I was thinking more along the lines of the naked sparring we could do upstairs in your room. Can't promise I won't still destroy you, though," he added with a wink.

"Oh my God," sighed Nat, who apparently could hear him, after all. "You two are disgusting. Get out of here before you start humping in the middle of the floor."

"That is an excellent idea, Natasha," you said, taking one of Bucky's hands in both of yours as you began to walk backward toward the exit, pulling him along. "Let's get out of here, Barnes. See how many times you can pin me before I scream for mercy."

Bucky threw his towel at Nat as he followed you, his gaze locked on you with a hunger that far surpassed the look he had in the ring with Jade. It sent shivers down your spine and set your heart racing.

God, you loved that man. You loved him so much that you were more than willing to ignore the little voice in the back of your head that kept asking "If there was nothing for you to worry about, why had he looked so guilty when he realized you'd been watching them?"

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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qqueenofhades · 5 months

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Hello! This is kind of a weird ask, I'm sorry to bother you, but seeing as you're a very intelligent studied historian that I deeply respect, I was hoping you could offer some advice? Or like, things i could read? Lately, i feel like my critical thinking skills are emaciated and its scaring the shit out of me. I feel very slow and like I'm constantly missing important info in relation to news/history/social activism stuff. Thats so vague, sorry, but like any tips on how i can do better?

Aha, thank you. There was recently a good critical-thinking infograph on my dash, so obviously I thought I remembered who reblogged it and checked their blog, it wasn't them, thought it was someone else, checked their blog, it also wasn't them, and now I can't find it to link to. Alas. But I will try to sum up its main points and add a few of my own. I'm glad you're taking the initiative to work on this for yourself, and I will add that while it can seem difficult and overwhelming to sort through the mass of information, especially often-false, deliberately misleading, or otherwise bad information, there are a few tips to help you make some headway, and it's a skill that like any other skill, gets easier with practice. So yes.

The first and most general rule of thumb I would advise is the same thing that IT/computer people tell you about scam emails. If something is written in a way that induces urgency, panic, the feeling that you need to do something RIGHT NOW, or other guilt-tripping or anxiety-inducing language, it is -- to say the least -- questionable. This goes double if it's from anonymous unsourced accounts on social media, is topically or thematically related to a major crisis, or anything else. The intent is to create a panic response in you that overrides your critical faculties, your desire to do some basic Googling or double-checking or independent verification of its claims, and makes you think that you have to SHARE IT WITH EVERYONE NOW or you are personally and morally a bad person. Unfortunately, the world is complicated, issues and responses are complicated, and anyone insisting that there is Only One Solution and it's conveniently the one they're peddling should not be trusted. We used to laugh at parents and grandparents for naively forwarding or responding to obviously scam emails, but now young people are doing the exact same thing by blasting people with completely sourceless social media tweets, clips, and other manipulative BS that is intended to appeal to an emotional gut rather than an intellectual response. When you panic or feel negative emotions (anger, fear, grief, etc) you're more likely to act on something or share questionable information without thinking.

Likewise, you do have basic Internet literacy tools at your disposal. You can just throw a few keywords into Google or Wikipedia and see what comes up. Is any major news organization reporting on this? Is it obviously verifiable as a fake (see the disaster pictures of sharks swimming on highways that get shared after every hurricane)? Can you right-click, perform a reverse image search, and see if this is, for example, a picture from an unrelated war ten years ago instead of an up-to-date image of the current conflict? Especially with the ongoing Israel/Palestine imbroglio, we have people sharing propaganda (particularly Hamas propaganda) BY THE BUCKETLOAD and masquerading it as legitimate news organizations (tip: Quds News Network is literally the Hamas channel). This includes other scuzzy dirtbag-left websites like Grayzone and The Intercept, which often have implicit or explicit links to Russian-funded disinformation campaigns and other demoralizing or disrupting fake news that is deliberately designed to turn young left-leaning Westerners against the Democrats and other liberal political parties, which enables the electoral victory of the fascist far-right and feeds Putin's geopolitical and military aims. Likewise, half of our problems would be solved if tankies weren't so eager to gulp down and propagate anything "anti-Western" and thus amplify the Russian disinformation machine in a way even the Russians themselves sometimes struggle to do, but yeah. That relates to both Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine.

Basically: TikTok, Twitter/X, Tumblr itself, and other platforms are absolutely RIFE with misinformation, and this is due partly to ownership (the Chinese government and Elon Fucking Musk have literally no goddamn reason whatsoever to build an unbiased algorithm, and have been repeatedly proven to be boosting bullshit that supports their particular worldviews) and partly due to the way in which the young Western left has paralyzed itself into hypocritical moral absolutes and pseudo-revolutionary ideology (which is only against the West itself and doesn't think that the rest of the world has agency to act or think for itself outside the West's influence, They Are Very Smart and Anti-Colonialist!) A lot of "information" in left-leaning social media spaces is therefore tainted by this perspective and often relies on flat-out, brazen, easily disprovable lies (like the popular Twitter account insisting that Biden could literally just overturn the Supreme Court if he really wanted to). Not all misinformation is that easy to spot, but with a severe lack of political, historical, civic, or social education (since it's become so polarized and school districts generally steer away from it or teach the watered-down version for fear of being attacked by Moms for Liberty or similar), it is quickly and easily passed along by people wanting trite and simplistic solutions for complex problems or who think the extent of social justice is posting the Right Opinions on social media.

As I said above, everything in the world is complicated and has multiple factors, different influences, possible solutions, involved actors, and external and internal causes. For the most part, if you're encountering anything that insists there's only one shiningly righteous answer (which conveniently is the one All Good and Moral People support!) and the other side is utterly and even demonically in the wrong, that is something that immediately needs a closer look and healthy skepticism. How was this situation created? Who has an interest in either maintaining the status quo, discouraging any change, or insisting that there's only one way to engage with/think about this issue? Who is being harmed and who is being helped by this rhetoric, including and especially when you yourself are encouraged to immediately spread it without criticism or cross-checking? Does it rely on obvious lies, ideological misinformation, or something designed to make you feel the aforementioned negative emotions? Is it independently corroborated? Where is it sourced from? When you put the author's name into Google, what comes up?

Also, I think it's important to add that as a result, it's simply not possible to distill complicated information into a few bite-sized and easily digestible social media chunks. If something is difficult to understand, that means you probably need to spend more time reading about it and encountering diverse perspectives, and that is research and work that has to take place primarily not on social media. You can ask for help and resources (such as you're doing right now, which I think is great!), but you can't use it as your chief or only source of information. You can and should obviously be aware of the limitations and biases of traditional media, but often that has turned into the conspiracy-theory "they never report on what's REALLY GOING ON, the only information you can trust is random anonymous social media accounts managed by God knows who." Traditional media, for better or worse, does have certain evidentiary standards, photographing, sourcing, and verifying requirements, and other ways to confirm that what they're writing about actually has some correspondence with reality. Yes, you need to be skeptical, but you can also trust that some of the initial legwork of verification has been done for you, and you can then move to more nuanced review, such as wording, presentation of perspective, who they're interviewing, any journalistic assumptions, any organizational shortcomings, etc.

Once again: there is a shit-ton of stuff out there, it is hard to instinctively know or understand how to engage with it, and it's okay if you don't automatically "get" everything you read. That's where the principle of actually taking the time to be informed comes in, and why you have to firmly divorce yourself from the notion that being socially aware or informed means just instantly posting or sharing on social media about the crisis of the week, especially if you didn't know anything about it beforehand and are just relying on the Leftist Groupthink to tell you how you should be reacting. Because things are complicated and dangerous, they take more effort to unpick than just instantly sharing a meme or random Twitter video or whatever. If you do in fact want to talk about these things constructively, and not just because you feel like you're peer-pressured into doing so and performing the Correct Opinions, then you will in fact need to spend non-social-media time and effort in learning about them.

If you're at a university, there are often subject catalogues, reference librarians, and other built-in tools that are there for you to use and which you SHOULD use (that's your tuition money, after all). That can help you identify trustworthy information sources and research best practices, and as you do that more often, it will help you have more of a feel for things when you encounter them in the wild. It's not easy at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes more so, and will make you more confident in your own judgments, beliefs, and values. That way when you encounter something that you KNOW is wrong, you won't be automatically pressured to share it just to fit in, because you will be able to tell yourself what the problems are.

Good luck!

#coffeeandcoyotes #ask #school stuff #critical thinking

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Silver Lining 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your phone buzzes as your niece bounces dangerously close to the tree. Your sister's in town with her two kids, but neither her or her husband seem to care much about watching them. Somehow, you're tasked with that and unsure what to do about their endless energy. You envy them truly so you just kind of let them go.

You hear your mother and sister chattering in the kitchen, her husband is in the garage with your stepdad, and as always, you're the odd one out. You slide your phone out and check the ID. It's Bucky, technically your new boss. You notice you've missed a few texts from him. Great. Not a good start. You were supposed to tell everyone at dinner about your new gig.

You answer, watching the kids without much thought, play tug of war over a string of tinsel. You should stop them but it'll just snap anyhow. You clear your throat and put your hand to your cheek, feeling the nervousness warm your skin.

"Hello, Mr. B-Barnes," you eke out.

"Bucky, it's fine," he sounds slightly irritated but you don't think you've heard a different tone from him so far, "you're busy?"

"Well, uh, n-not exactly," you shrug, "j-just family s-stuff."

"Family... so you won't be able to go over the script? I just got your edits."

"U-uh, y-yeah, if you want to, I c-can grab my l-laptop," you offer and turn your back to the room.

"I'd prefer it if we could meet. I'm more of a face-to-face person."

"O-old-fashioned," you comment. You regret that he exhales deeply on the other end. "S-sorry, I o-only meant--"

"You're right. I'm old-fashioned. Not a bad thing," he insists, "so, is it too late? Should we find another time?"

"T-tomorrow?"

"I'm going out of town for the weekend," he huffs, "I really want to have this ready to record when I get back."

"R-right," you chew your thumb, a sudden bawling tears through the air as you spin around and find your nephew stuck under the tree. Oh no! "Oh, sh-shoot."

You cover the microphone as you lower the phone. Your sister rushes in, your mother at her heels as they squeal. You watch helpless as she fishes Casey from under the fir branches, "you were supposed to be watching them," she accuses.

"I-I was?"

"Oh, come on, you know, I barely get a minute to myself and you can't just keep an eye on two kids? Ugh, no job and you can't be bothered just to look," she snarls.

They're not your kids. You flutter your lashes as you fight back tears and that smart remark.

"I actually h-have a c-call from m-my new job," you hold out your phone and wiggle it at her, "I d-don't b-babysit f-for free."

She scoffs and your mom tuts as she shakes her head. They don't even care. No congratulations but they can constantly throw your unemployment in your face. You take a breath and roll your eyes.

"S-sorry, I g-got to go," you turn and drag your feet out of the room.

"Well, she didn't say she had a job," your mother mutters as your sister grumbles back, "about time."

You ignore them as you head upstairs. It's better you let your sister bask in her spotlight. You weren't looking forward to dinner anyhow. Not for anything more than the hunger groaning in your stomach. You put the phone back to your ear.

"A-are you there? S-sorry, I g-got distracted."

"Really, if you're busy--"

"N-no, I n-need to get a-away," you say.

You're silent at the confession. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic. You go down the hall to your room and find a sweater.

"Well, uh, how about we meet at the cafe? Middle ground. You like that place?"

"Up t-to you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You need a ride?" He asks, to your surprise.

You pause as you grip the bright pink wool in your hand, "N-no, I'll f-find my way." You swallow and lay the sweater on your bed, "uh, b-bye."

You hang up before he can respond. You're embarrassed. He probably heard all of that and more. And now you've gone and betrayed your stupid self to him. Of all people. He doesn't need to know you're a complete failure. You hate to accept it but you have to; you need him more than he needs you. So maybe you'll just change the damn thesis after all.

🩶

You get to the coffee shop with snow caked on your hat and in the collar of your coat. You shake it off just outside and enter, your cheeks and nose kissed with the cold. As much as you love the winter, it's a bit much. You let out a brrr as you pull of your mitts and tuck them inside your hat. You hear your name and glance over. It's him, he's beat you there.

You tramp over to him as the snow melts off your boots and you wave, setting your bag in the chair as you unbutton your coat.

"Didn't m-mean t-to take too l-long," you say.

"Hot chocolate shouldn't be that cold," he assures you. You wince and look at the table. Sure enough, there's a second cup.

"O-oh, you d-didn't have t-to--"

"It's fine, not a big deal," he shakes his head.

You nod and hang your coat over the back of the chair and tuck away your mittens and hat in the sleeve. You sit and bring your bag into your lap. You flip up the flap and pull out your laptop, chilly from the walk there. You sense him watching you. You leave your computer shut as you lay it out and reach for the hot chocolate. You give it a taste and hum, thanking him.

"Sounds like a rough day," he comments.

"Y-yeah, b-but you d-don't have to w-worry about it," you assure him, glancing around evasively. When is he going to start being mean?

"You got kids?" He asks.

You have to hold in your laughter. "Sister's k-kids," you explain, "n-not for m-me."

"Ah," he accepts and reaches for his coffee, "right. Makes sense."

You keep your eyes down. You don't want to get too personal. Feels like he's just being polite, likely because he feels bad for you, not about his previous behavior.

"Don't got any either," he leans forward, his thick fingers hugging his cup, "so, your new draft was... great."

"R-really?" You lift your gaze meekly.

"Yeah, yeah, I just have a few notes," he sits back to bend down to the bag at his feet, "thanks for coming so last minute.”

You open your laptop, trying not to show any emotion. It's kind of him but you just don't believe it's anything other than pity.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabbles #series #silver lining #silverfox #au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers

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gemstone-roses · 1 year

Note

I’ve really enjoyed your Hannibal fics and I was wondering if y could do one with fem reader when Hannibal and them get in a argument and he tries to woo her with gifts and stuff but it doesn’t work so he sets up like a really cute picnic or something xx thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi! Thankyou so much! I enjoy writing them!

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff, kissing.

Reblogs and comments much appreciated thankyou🥺

He realises he's fucked up about three seconds after the door shuts, he steadies himself on the counter.

He can't even remember what you had been arguing about, but he remembers the moment the words left his lips before he could stop himself.

And your reaction hurt him the most.

You didn't yell, you didn't shout, scream, tell him he went too far, you just calmly said,

"Well then, I think I'll go now".

There's no attitude in your words, no sarcasm, no fight.

And hannibal realises then he's really done it.

He hesitates to call, it takes everything in him not to pick up the phone but he knows its what you need.

He starts with flowers. They appear on your desk, they are far too grand for you to feel comfortable displaying them, and he knows that, but he's not thinking with all his usual consideration right now.

He knows the gifts he's been sending probably didn't go down well, because your still not talking to him.

He even saw you pour the coffee he had left for you down the sink.

Deep down hannibal knew buying you gifts to apologise would never work, so when his mind has cleared slightly, he can think a bit clearer, he knows exactly what to do.

Instead of finding a gift at your desk today, you found a note. Handwriting out of a fairytale, you knew it was from hannibal.

It said to meet him on the top of the hill you'd spent your summer evenings on.

You loved it, there was a single cherry blossom tree at the top, and when the wind blew and the petals fell, you felt serene up there.

You walk the path up to the hill, your mood towards hannibal had long gone, you were just waiting for him to come -with a bit of grovelling- back to you.

You reached the top of the hill and hannibal stood from the blanket he'd laid out and walked towards you.

"Hi darling" he whispers, relief washing over him, because you showed up.

"Hi" you smile.

"I, I made some food, your favourite" he smiles and you think you might melt because here is hannibal, tripping over his words, apologising.

"Ooh, good, I'm starving" you laugh.

Hannibal wraps his arm around your waist, tenativley.

You lean into his embrace and he holds you tighter.

"Im sorry" he kisses the top of your head.

"I know" you say

"Truly, I should not have said what I did, and I hope you can forgive me" he says, his hand stroking up and down your side.

"Hannibal, we've all said something we shouldn't have done at one time or another, myself included" you assured him.

"I know but- "it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be" you say. And hannibal smiles. He ushers you to sit down and grabs a bottle of your favourite sparkling drink.

"Here darling" he offers you a glass and you stretch your legs out on the blanket.

"Thankyou, this is beautiful". You whisper, tilting your head back to look up at the canopy of the cherry blossom tree.

"Much better than that horrendously over the top bouquet you sent me" you jibe at him, hannibal leans back with you and laughs.

"Sorry about that" he says, and he leans his head forward just a tiny bit as if to indicate he really is sorry. You place your free hand on his chin, placing your drink down behind you.

You lean into him, catching his lips in a kiss. Hannibal props himself up so he's able to grasp your face with his hands.

He kisses you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

He breaks the kiss eventually, leaving you breathless.

"The food is going cold" he whispers, hand running across your jaw.

Finally, hannibal hands you a plate of the food, smiling.

"Thankyou, you say" the stunning picnic he's put together warming your heart, and hannibal, is forgiven.

#hannibal lecter fanfiction #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction

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jemmacdraws · 3 months

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Hi! So you draw Eddie absolutely amazingly. I'm such a big fan of your work and I reblog it every time I see it because everyone should be seeing these masterpieces! Also adoreeee your Steve! The accuracy of your characters is astounding and I promise I'm not just saying all that so I can get to the next part of this ask. I truly adore your works and I've been thinking about asking you this for a long time but I'm too chicken to DM you. I totally understand if you don't want to, it's not your job. But I was wondering if you're ever bored, maybe would you please consider putting together a post that goes over the anatomy of Eddie's face and what you've learnt about it in drawing him repeatedly? I'm an artist also but my stuff is much less realistic. I've personally found Eddie's likeness very hard to capture, even in a caricature kind of way. The hair and clothes end up representing him more than any of his facial features and that's fine until I want to change his outfit or give him a man bun and suddenly it's not Eddie anymore but just, a brunette dude. I hope this makes sense to you. I have studied Joseph Quinn's face extensively and every time I think I know what shape his eyes are or where his cheekbones sit, I am humbled by a new picture of him or a different angle of the same picture even! But your skill at capturing him seems to know, no bounds and I know you said it took you a long time to get him right. So I thought I would shoot my shot and ask, artist to artist if there was any chance you'd be willing to help a gal out. ❤

I have a few tips. I don’t really feel qualified to be saying any of this - there are much better artists out there than me, probably trained and studied and experienced and I’m literally just a hobby artist drawing the same thing over and over. You could probably ask other people. Please ask other people. But FOR ME I’ve gathered the things that I was getting wrong the most and I’ll try to explain them.

I do want to preface that I can’t just provide a quick solution. I’ve been drawing him for 2 years now and I still think parts look really bad but since you asked nicely here are some quick thoughts:

Sooo yeah. I try and get these things right.

I’m not going to do tutorials on facial features or anything like that - I don’t think I could teach you better than anyone else could but these are the things I’ve found helpful. Let me know if you need anything else.

Sorry if any of this is obvious - I can’t really explain it in a way that isn’t ’scribble until you get it right’.

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kyokikia · 5 months

Text

Dine and dash!

Pairings ; Portgas D. Ace × fem!reader

Request from @luvfzw : heyy can i request a female reader and any one piece char of your choice with a platonic partners in crime trope? (With a smidge of romance if you want)

(thank you for the request! And my night is going great, ty for asking as well!)

Type, fluff and platonic, partners in crime trope

Warnings, cursing (both in dialogue and in the actual story) and thats about it, y/n is used 2-3 times

Likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

alr so ik the main storyline is dine and dashing, but ive never actually dine and dashed.. so uhm, i'll just work with what i think is how it works! Im really sorry if i got it wrong, feel free to send over an ask or a message if i did anything wrong and i'll fix it!

You and Ace were what some people would call partners in crime. Did that mean you guys committed crimes together a lot? Yea of course, you were his best friend after all. You and Ace had each other's back unconditionally, and everyone could tell. You both were always together, honestly knowing he knew your weaknesses better than you did your own, and vice versa. Both of you also seemed to be in sync, so much so that it was worrying. You both always knew what the other wanted when together, which meant you mostly knew what the other felt most of the time, and this included whenever you both felt hungry. Which led you to today.

You and Ace walked around an island that the ship decided to stay in for a day and a night, just to resupply some necessities, take a break, the usual. And you and Ace took this time to wander around the island's city, turns out this island was quite well-of and sort of large, a few shopping districts, good housing, very nice restaurants, an actually nice hospital, and good-looking hotels. Walking all over the city had both of you hungry after a few hours, so both of you started looking for restaurants to eat in.

Both of you agreed not to go for too much of a fancy restaurant, but not too bad of a restaurant either, you wanted good food after all. The pair of you chose a restaurant that was kind of crowded, and thankfully it wasn't those kinds of restaurants where you needed reservations and all that. You both found a table and after ordering, you both didn't wait too long before getting your food served.

You were both seated at a table not too far from the exit, but not the most easily noticeable or seen by the staff. You contentedly watched Ace as he was satisfying his near bottomless stomach while you also ate to your heart's content. The two of you conversing about stupid stuff, and also more silently, talking about how you're gonna get the fuck out of there without paying this time. This wasn't your first time committing these kind of not so harmless shenanigans with him.

The food was good in your opinion, but you both made sure not to spend too long there and when you both finished up, you got up, and left, after telling Ace to come in a few minutes, which he did not listen to. "Ace what the hell!" You whisper-shouted with no serious anger laced in your voice as you watched him exit out of the diner's doors just a minute after you left.

"Why'd you leave so soon!" You whined, bickering with him with a slight teasing manner. He looked at you while smiling with his usual grin, before replying with, "well, because i know I wouldn't get caught!" His response got him an obvious facade of being offended, "I? You deadass think only you wouldn't get caught?" You remarked, with a fake scoff leaving your mouth right after.

His grin grew larger at your scoff, before he quickly answered with, "Yea well I don't think you would get caught but I'm ju—" "just better than me?" You interrupt him, with a knowing smile on your face, before he looks straight in your eyes, "yea. i'm better than you." You look at him and his eyes as he says that, before deciding to turn away frohe freckled man, and you started distancing yourself and walking away from the restaurant and Ace, with him quickly trying to catch up, "hey! y/n! you know i was only joking!"

After he says that, you stop walking and say, "Yea yea i know! But—" the last part of your sentence, you purposefully pause and whispered. Before continuing it with a, "Last one to the ship actually has to pay for the next restaurant visit we go to!" You exclaim with a joyful grin before taking off, running back to where you came from. Ace takes a moment to register what you said, and why you're running off, and what'll happen if he loses. And once he does take it in, his eyes quickly widen before he takes off after you.

"y/n! This is unfair! You got a headstart!" Ace complained, running after you as he quickly tries catching up, the two of you running back to the ship. Eventually, you run out of stamina and start to tiredly walk, Ace not as run down on stamina as you are. "Alright alright Ace! We're done with the race—" you mutter while out of breath, the both of you were close to the ship anyway.

He slows down to match your pace, letting you regain your breath and you both approach the ship, "well, looks like i win!" Ace exclaimed cockily, "yea yea whatever." You replied in frustration at having to pay for the next meal, especially with his bottomless stomach.

"Don't worry about paying for the next meal, i'd rather not pay at all" he assured, "but.. you and me, we go out and steal for a hefty load of berry the next stop we have, alright?" He declared, and to which you gladly accepted. It's free money, and you get to commit crimes with Ace, win win for you all the way!

Alright so sorry this is kinda trash, first one shot i really finished that i'm actually gonna post! I dont know how dine and dash works so i also apologize for that, and im also sorry if you wanted something more intense in the sense of partners in crime! I'm really sorry if you wanted something like robbery or something like that, my brain just couldn't figure a storyline for anything other than this. Please let me know if its to your liking!

#ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece #ace x you #portgas ace x you #one piece x you #op x you #one piece fluff #op x reader #one piece oneshots #kyokikia #platonic #platonic x reader

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taurusdaylight · 1 year

Text

seven days to say i love you

summary. you and jeno can't get enough of spending time together even when you are practically glued to each other's side at any given opportunity. but spending seven days a week for eternity with your favourite person doesn't sound like a bad idea, right?

pairing. college boyfriend! jeno x fem! reader

genre. hockey player! au, college! au, established relationship! au, friends to lovers! au, fluff

word count. 5,108

warnings/tags. none, this is 423% fluff <3 (but please let me know if i did miss out anything!)

a/n. (repost because there was an error... 😔) but hi!! i'm so sorry for the inactivity, i was so busy and couldn't put out my fics like i wanted to. but i'm back with a small something (my first non-jaehyun fic,,) i wrote this a while back and changed like 3/4 of it, and i hope it'll be a fun read!! i also came back to 2.8k notes on jaehyun bolton fic (is that what we're calling it now? yes.) i don’t reply to every comment/reblog/tag because by the time i see them it’s already so late, but i promise i read through and appreciate every single one of them,, thank you a million times!!!!!! i am working on more stuff now that i'm a little more free... so, as jaehyun likes to say, to be continued... :) hope everyone is well!

–

01 MONDAY.

The beginning of the week never failed to come to you in a dreadful manner, as if to make sure that you felt the full force of what most people like to call the Monday blues. Whoever was in charge of making sure that you would experience it, they certainly did not miss you out today as well.

Not that you enjoyed seeing other people suffer, but if there’s one thing that you’re grateful for, it’s the knowledge that you’re probably not the only one who feels this way. Though, the blaring sound of your alarm ringing at seven in the morning is too eerily similar to having someone have a personal vendetta against you, serving as a very unfriendly reminder that it is also the start of the school week. Perhaps, your disdain for Mondays could be attributed to this… but there’s always an exception, right?

Despite your reluctance to attend your morning lecture, you were somehow seated in the lecture theatre by nine, giving you more than enough time to lay out your laptop and the reading materials that you needed for the lesson before it started.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Often only going to sleep when the sun is about to rise, Lee Jeno has an unhealthy habit of pulling all-nighters, which causes him to miss his alarm because he’d be so deep in his sleep that he would only be able to hear it after the seventh alarm has gone off, which by then, was most likely the time that he needed to leave his house if he wanted to reach on time. The worst part of this is that he was up all night for the sole reason of wanting to break his record in his mobile games; and he plays so many that even you find it difficult to keep up too. Even when you nagged at him and said that you would complain to his mum, Jeno often dismissed your words as empty threats, still not breaking his bad habit. Reading his text message to you about how he was going to be late again, you could only let out a helpless sigh as you left his message on read.

Jeno announces his appearance by quietly opening the backdoor of the lecture theatre thirty minutes later. He makes his way over to his seat next to you, genuinely appreciating how even though sitting in front is better for your eyesight, you still opted to sit around the last few rows so that it’s easier for him to join the lecture when he comes in late without causing a loud disruption to your peers.

“Good morning, pretty,” Jeno bends down to whisper in your ear. Removing his crossbody bag, he leaves it in the empty space between you two. Once he settles down, Jeno slides a Venti-sized Hazelnut Latte from Starbucks over to your side of the desk. The rest of the lecture goes by quickly with you and Jeno making silly commentaries about anything and everything.

“Why did you still get me coffee?” you ask Jeno after the lecture had ended, a deep frown etched on your face. “You were already running late, Jeno. You really didn’t have to.” Being late was one thing, and making an additional stop at the café is another, especially because you knew that it was definitely not on the way.

“Just because,” Jeno replies with a loving smile. The kind of smile where his eyes would curve into beautiful crescents, his pupils almost disappearing because of how wide he is smiling at you. The kind of smile that you’d never get tired of seeing, so much so that you wordlessly lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips to say thank you.

Perhaps you like Mondays. Mondays with Jeno where you learnt that words left unspoken speak much more volume in expressing one’s heart.

02 TUESDAY.

It’s Tuesday, which means that you and Jeno have some spare time to meet up and study at the café near campus before his hockey practice starts. Study dates with Jeno are admittedly not as productive as you expect them to be, mainly because you often distract each other from getting any actual work done. Because of this, the both of you become public nuisances of some sort, so you had no choice but to study at a café instead of the quiet library. Imagine getting kicked out of the library… that would be an embarrassing sight.

“Jeno, how do you work out the answer to question five? I wasn’t paying attention when Prof taught this...” You look over at Jeno with a sheepish smile, earning a chuckle from him. He isn’t even surprised by your question, guessing that you probably spaced out or dozed off during the lesson.

Without saying a word, Jeno tucks a pencil behind his ear and grabs a piece of rough paper before getting up and shifting to the empty seat next to you, leaving you confused. As if he could read your mind, Jeno speaks again before you could question him. “So that it’ll be easier to explain it to you," he mumbles.

Ironically, the close proximity between the two of you only makes it harder for you to focus, but easier for you to admire his handsome features. Puckered lips, furrowed eyebrows and his gold rimmed glasses slipping down slightly to rest on his nose bridge–Jeno couldn’t look any cuter in this moment as you watch him diligently scribble on the piece of paper. He is seemingly deep in thought about how he should explain this concept to you. Watching how focused Jeno was, you took the chance to lean in, giving him a peck on the cheek before retreating back quickly, chin resting on your palm as your gaze lingers on him, slyly pretending that nothing happened.

“You broke my train of thought!” he grunted. Jeno puts his pencil down and turns to you with an annoyed expression on his face, but swiftly looks back down on the scribbled paper upon making eye contact with you.

It only dawns on him now that you were staring at him the entire time.

“Don’t do that, you’re distracting me.” His voice is quiet, eyes basically glued to that piece of paper.

“Sorry, I can’t help it. You’re so handsome and cute.” You pause, seeing a bashful smile appear on his face. “Did you know that a guy is the most attractive when he’s focused?”

“Do you still want my help or not?” Jeno asks with a grimace in his voice.

“Yes, yes, I do. I’m sorry,” you apologise with a small smile. It was difficult to resist the urge of calling him cute again, but you decide not to tease him any further for the sake of his sanity.

“Good. Now pay attention, I need to leave for training soon and if you still don’t get it by then... that’s on you.”

Jeno lied. Even after long hours of training, he still went on FaceTime that night to thoroughly explain the concepts that you were unfamiliar with, not minding that he was practically fighting for his life trying not to fall asleep on you.

That Tuesday night, you went to sleep with the widest grin on your face. Heart carrying so much love for your boyfriend who coincidentally asked you out for the first time ever on a Tuesday too.

03 WEDNESDAY.

Wednesday's child is full of woe. If there was a sentence that could explain how you feel about this particular day, this would be it. Mid-week crisis should be an actual thing if it wasn’t already one. Not only did Wednesday feel like the longest day of the week, you’d also feel extremely restless, wishing nothing more than for the weekends to come quickly.

Back-to-back seminars for six hours with only a short forty-five minute break in between had to be the most unappealing thing known to mankind, and you’d most certainly file a complaint if it was possible. Then again, this is perhaps part of the university experience.

However, this still isn’t the most devastating part. What truly makes this a tragedy for you is that Jeno isn't there to accompany you through it all due to conflicting timetables. He also had training again, this time outside of school, which meant that he’d only be free after that.

You’re so used to being around Jeno all the time that you can’t seem to spend even the littlest amount of time away from him even though you pretty much see him almost every day of the week. Talk about being clingy.

The feeling’s mutual for Jeno though. Just like you, he seems to hate the idea of not being by your side too, evident from the numerous messages he sends throughout the day despite knowing that your replies would take longer than usual to come in.

You’re not complaining. Because in one way or another, you feel like that’s his way of being by your side, albeit not physically. It is his text messages of checking up on you and ensuring that you didn’t skip your meals that make this unbearable day a little more bearable. Most of all, you look forward to being on FaceTime with him at night, having him all to yourself after such a long day.

Jeno usually ends training at seven-thirty in the evening, but sometimes it could overrun till eight. Thereafter, he still has to travel home for an hour or so, get dinner and wash up. He hides this from you, but very often he attempts to rush home because he doesn’t want you to stay up too late waiting for him, and because he wants to talk after an entire day of not seeing you.

Jeno makes sure to call before eleven, always starting the conversation by telling you how much he misses you, as if he didn’t already tell you that through text. He goes on to ramble about his day, how he saw the time match the digits of your birthdate and it made him think of you, not forgetting to also ask you how did your day go. Not long after, you’d notice his breaths becoming louder, his speech slightly slurred, and that’s when you know that he’s going to fall asleep soon. Even so, you don’t say anything, simply watching him slowly fall into a deep slumber.

“Good night Jeno,” you whisper softly, careful not to wake him up and taking one last look at how peaceful he looks before ending the call.

04 THURSDAY.

Due to how busy the both of you were, you are grateful for the small gap that Jeno has between classes and practices, just so that you’d still be able to see his face. Once it's about time for him to leave, you get ready to say goodbye to Jeno with a warm hug , when he suddenly stops you by placing his hand over yours.

“Do you want to watch me train?” he asks. “You can say no. But I just thought we could get dinner after so we can spend a little more time together,” Jeno adds, his thumb rubbing small circles against your knuckle. An air of expectancy fills the small booth that the both of you occupy in the reading room as he awaits your answer.

“I’d love to, Jen.” Flipping his hand over so that you could intertwine your fingers together, you jokingly rush Jeno to pack up his things, telling him how excited you are to finally sit in and watch him train for the first time ever. You’ve only ever heard funny anecdotes of his teammates from him every once in a while, and you’re beyond elated to finally meet the people who bring so much joy into his life.

On the way to the hockey rink, you ask Jeno more about the sport and various positions. You weren’t a sports person but thought that it’d be a good time to know more about it, especially because of Jeno’s immense passion towards hockey.

“So what position do you play?” you glance over at him with curious eyes.

“Centre,” he says, a sense of pride in his voice. Before you could ask him what that position entails, Jeno beats you to it with a rather cheeky explanation. “You just need to know that it’s called centre because I’m supposed to be the centre of your attention.”

True to his words, Jeno remains as the centre of your attention for the entire duration. You’d never admit this to him, but he becomes even more charming than he already is when he’s on the rink. Especially during the friendly match that his team had with a neighbouring school towards the end of practice, his entire demeanour changed so much that you’d think that you were watching an entirely different person.

The way Jeno plays is extremely captivating to watch. You’re not sure how he does it, but you can see him mentally strategizing his next move as the clock ticks. Even down to the last minute of the match, Jeno had not let his guard down, the fire in his eyes so prominent that anyone could see that he was determined to end this with a bang.

Skating across the rink, Jeno moves at the speed of light, making it hard for his opponents to catch him. He is the ace of the team after all, so it wouldn’t be that easy to mess with him. His eyes follow the puck, set on scoring yet another goal despite their favourable lead. The opponents are in full defence mode too, though it wouldn’t make much of a difference since there's too short of a duration left for them to catch up. Speedily, Jeno intercepts the puck from the opposing team, skating away at high speed, still vigilantly guarding the puck with his stick. With the help of his teammates who effectively block the opponent from getting to Jeno, he manages to catch both your eyes and heart in that moment, making you hold your breath in anticipation as he skilfully shoots the puck into the goal at the very last second.

In the matter of a few minutes, Jeno returns to his usual self, smiling widely and cheering loudly with his teammates to celebrate their victory. And of course, he turns to look at you, giving you a smile that holds some semblance of shyness. It’s fascinating to watch how different he is on and off the rink, but it also reminds you how in love you are with the many sides of him; those you have seen and those that you have yet to uncover.

As promised, Jeno takes you to the burger joint down the alley near your university afterwards. During dinner, he still reenacts the funny incidents that happened during training even though you were present when they occurred. Though, this sweet gesture admittedly warms your heart because it makes you feel even more included in his life, as though he is gradually inviting you to be a part of his world, just as you do the same when talking about your interests and hobbies with him.

Time seems to slow down whenever you’re with him but that’s okay because time is merely a social construct. What matters is that you get to spend time with Jeno, who is now walking you home. With his hand in yours, Jeno slows down his footsteps to match your pace. The atmosphere is filled with shared laughter, along with Sweet Nothing softly playing through Jeno’s airpods, both of you taking one side each. It would have been wired earphones, but a certain someone claims that it gets in the way… of what, he refuses to elaborate.

It is also a homely moment like this that makes the both of you wish that time could slow down even more as you basked in each other’s comforting presence, sharing the same sentiment of hoping that the walk to your house will last a little longer. Anything to prolong the time that you spend with each other, right?

05 FRIDAY.

Friday may be your favourite day of the week because it is when Jeno is finally free after three consecutive days of training. It is also movie night, where you and Jeno would take turns to go over to each other’s place every Friday evening.

It was a few weeks into freshman year, when the two of you made this pact after discovering that you were neighbours. How is it possible that you’ve never noticed Jeno before anyway?

Funny enough, it all began with you telling your mum that you made a new friend in college who goes by the name of Jeno. That name clearly rang a bell, prompting her to start narrating her grocery adventures with Jeno’s mother, excitedly telling you how close they were. In her words, “Jeno is a really sweet boy, I’ve been dying to introduce you to him but it slipped my mind so many times!” Gushing about the said boy, she hurried you to invite his family over for dinner, rushing into the kitchen herself to whip a meal up in no time.

The awkwardness of the dinner was enough to kill you from the inside, to say the least. Mothers being mothers, you had to admit that you were amazed at their ability to jump from topic to topic in the span of a few minutes. Together with Jeno’s and your father laughing, they also joined in the conversation from time to time. Meanwhile, you and Jeno sat in silence side by side, and spoke only when necessary.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but can we excuse ourselves? It’s my first time at your house and I was wondering if ____ could show me around.” Jeno asked, giving your mum a polite smile as he glanced sideways at you momentarily.

“Of course! The two of you should get to know each other better. Ah, young lo–”

You cleared your throat, preventing your mum from completing her sentence. “Friendship,” she corrected herself.

Believe it or not, you had no idea how dramatic of a person she was up until this moment, or maybe it’s because there was something about Jeno that reeled in her overflowing sense of, you’re guessing, motherly love? That would also explain why the old ladies at the school cafeteria were so nice to Jeno, constantly giving him extra servings. You didn’t know what to think of Jeno’s suggestion since you’ve only known him for a few weeks, and being alone with him couldn’t be any better after having such an awkward dinner. At that time, however, it seemed like it was the next best alternative that you had.

“Let’s go.” You stood up abruptly to disrupt the conversation so that the adults (specifically, your mum) would not have an opportunity to say anything else to make the atmosphere any weirder than it already was. Jeno trailed behind you like a lost puppy, quickly following you upstairs to your room.

“I’m so sorry, my mum doesn’t think before she speaks sometimes. I hope you don’t mind what she said.” You broke the silence, not knowing where this conversation was going exactly, suddenly regretting speaking at all. You took a quick look at Jeno, who was now leaning against the doorframe, standing quite a distance away from the edge of your bed where you were sitting.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a soft smile while shaking his head lightly.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” you asked, the smile on his face now replaced with a frown as he gave you a quizzical look.

“You’re still leaning against the door?” you asked again, even though it was meant to be more of a statement rather than a question.

Jeno bursted out laughing, “I thought I was making you uncomfortable!” He raised his hand to rub the nape of his neck. He moved away from the door to sit next to you, still leaving a small space between you two.

“Want to watch The Lion King?” you suggested, mindlessly browsing through Disney Plus.

“Are you kidding me?”

You creased your eyebrows in confusion. “No... why?”

“I love Lion King!” Jeno said a little too enthusiastically, his eyes widening at how there were so many movies in the world, yet you somehow suggested watching his favourite Disney movie.

With the awkward tension in the atmosphere finally gone, you and Jeno made yourselves comfortable on your bed. Unknowingly, the both of you scooted closer to each other’s side as the movie played. By the time the credits scene started to roll, the both of you were already fast asleep, your legs tangled with each other’s under the sheets.

And as most people would like to say, the rest is history.

However, Fridays weren’t just reserved for movie nights. Soon enough, Friday nights also turned into sleepover nights, which meant that other than your usual movie marathons, you and Jeno end up doing other things too.

Like now, the two of you just ended a karaoke singing session that you would most probably never have again. It was far too loud in the night for your neighbour’s liking, causing them to lodge a complaint, making you and Jeno permanently cross that out of your sleepover activities.

Jeno comes up with a better idea of setting up a cosy outdoor blanket fort in your backyard to lay on. The sense of tranquillity is like no other, you and Jeno having a heart-to-heart talk in hushed whispers with crickets chirping in the background.

In the end, you fall asleep first, feeling burnt out from the entire school week. Although Jeno knows that you’re already asleep, he still makes sure to pat your head lightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Good night angel,” he breathes, wrapping his arms around your waist before drifting to sleep.

06 SATURDAY.

Saturdays are without a doubt, the most exciting for you. As a matter of fact, dating Jeno is a thrill in itself; but what makes Saturdays exceptional is Jeno taking you out on proper dates.

You and Jeno have been together for slightly over three years now, yet every date always feels like the first. The butterflies in your stomach? They never go away.

Initially, going on a date with Jeno seemed to be nerve-wracking to you because he’d always bring you somewhere new. Naturally, you thought it was the suspense of not knowing what he planned that made you feel this way.

Deep down, however, you knew that you simply felt this way because it was… Jeno.

“Why don’t I have anything to wear?” you shout in exasperation to no one in particular as you rummage through the closet to find a perfect outfit for your date. It feels like Jeno has already seen you in everything that you own, and you’re this close to going on Pinterest for outfit ideas.

That is, until you hear a text notification sound from your phone. It was a text message from Jeno informing you that he's coming over in five minutes. You give up searching, hastily picking out a white turtleneck, layering an autumn brown velvet overall over it.

“You look pretty today.” This is the first thing that Jeno says to you when you open the door, once again leaning against the door frame with a mellow smile on his face. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks because of his compliment.

And there it is again, the butterflies. Lee Jeno looking as flawless as he could be, a cosmic latte dress shirt tucked with a pair of black pants along with a brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders, coincidentally matching your outfit. To top it off, he’s wearing a beret today too, suddenly making him look cuter. It’s as if he travelled back in time, turning into your Victorian boyfriend.

“But... why are you dressed like this?” Jeno asks, rudely interrupting your staring session.

“Why? Is there something wrong with my outfit?” you were perplexed by his sudden question. Did he not like it? Should you change out of it? He said you looked pretty though. Besides, what else were you going to wear? You stare intently at Jeno, anxious about what he's going to say next. You hope it isn’t something bad.

“I thought I told you we were going cycling...” He stops mid-sentence, brows raised as he purposefully gives you a once-over again.

The tension in your shoulders disappears upon hearing his words. You roll your eyes at him, pushing his right shoulder lightly. “You’re going to ride a bicycle in a leather jacket?”

“Nevermind, please pretend I never said that.” Jeno makes a sulky expression upon realising that he did not plan out his joke well. But he is also quick to shoot you an endearing smile. “I love your outfit, baby.”

“You’re so lucky you’re cute, Lee Jeno.” And that I love you.

Thank goodness though, you were definitely not prepared to make another mess out of your wardrobe to search for another outfit when you’ve painstakingly organised it ten minutes ago.

In many ways, dates with Jeno always feel like the first. A simple thing, like the slight brush of your shoulders against each other as you’re walking down a random shopping street was sufficient to send your heart racing. Jeno’s hesitation to hold your hand in a crowded amusement park even though he really wants to, but he doesn’t know when is the right time to grab it–you can feel it, he fumbles with his fingers, reaches out every now and then, but pulls back immediately when his fingers accidentally meet yours.

And the memory of today that you can’t seem to forget. It’s spring, so Jeno thought that it’s a perfect time to bring you to a flower field located at the outskirts of the city. He’d once seen you looking at pictures of it on Instagram, making a mental note about it before he went home to do more research that night.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Jeno to take pictures of you, but when the both of you arrived, he didn’t stop at all, you swear he probably has a thousand pictures of you just from today.

However, what surprised you more was that when you asked Jeno to pose in front of the daisy fields, he happily did, even though there was still a hint of shyness within him since he wasn’t exactly comfortable with being photographed at times. He even went as far as to ask the other visitors to help take pictures of the both of you together, which was something you usually did. It wasn’t something extravagant, but it sure was endearing, and you’re positive that discovering a new side of Jeno made you giddy. So giddy that you never knew how it was possible for your heart to be swelling with so much love for another person.

Just like how daisies symbolise new beginnings, you hope that it's the same for you and Jeno’s story too. To not have endings, but only new beginnings.

07 SUNDAY.

Being certified homebodies, you and Jeno wholeheartedly enjoy staying in. It is also perhaps an excuse for the both of you to cuddle and nap together. You’d think that by the end of the week, you’ll be tired of seeing Jeno’s face for the seventh time. You joke that you are, but in reality, you could never bring yourself to grow tired of being together with your favourite person.

You usually go over to Jeno’s house in the afternoon, which is the ideal time to take a nap. Sometimes, you prayed that it would rain, so that you’ll have an excuse to steal one of his hoodies. Even so, he lets you take them as and when you want to. What is he supposed to do, say no? Of course not.

Napping wasn’t supposed to be your favourite hobby, but if it meant that you could enjoy the warmth and comfort of being in Jeno’s embrace, then clearly, any other hobby in the world couldn’t possibly compare to it. Like a baby, you snuggle close to rest your head on Jeno’s chest, putting your arms around his neck, taking in his soft cotton scent. The faint sound of his heartbeat and gentle breathing lulls you to sleep, it is very much like a lullaby on its own.

The best feeling in the world is to wake up the same way you fell asleep–still in Jeno’s arms. Not wanting to awake him, you slowly loosen your arms from his neck. Carefully, you brush his hair to the side, getting a clearer view of his face as you tenderly caress the mole below his eye, and then his cheek. He has pretty eyelashes, you’ve come to notice.

“Jeno,” you call out softly, in hopes of waking him up, but not wanting to be too loud at the same time. You wanted to let him continue sleeping, but the sky is already dark.

“Jeno, it’s time to wake up,” you try again. The clock on his side table reads half past six in the evening, indicating that it is almost dinnertime. His eyes were still shut, but he let out a groggy sound to let you know that he was awake, mumbling something shortly after. You didn’t quite catch it, but you think that he asked you to let him sleep for another five minutes. Typical Jeno.

“But it’s time for dinner,” you try to sit up, only causing Jeno to hug your waist tighter. You could barely move an inch with the way he was holding you.

“Just five minutes.” You let out a sigh, giving in to him.

“Jeno?”

He hums in response, which you take as a cue to ask your question. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

His eyelids finally flutter open, sleep still evident in his eyes. He appears to be in deep thought about your question before he answers. “Yeah. I’d still love you.”

“Hmm…” You narrow your eyes at him. “That took you a while to answer.”

“I just woke up,” he retorts.

“Fine.” You close your eyes and move closer to Jeno’s body, enjoying how he feels like your personal human pillow.

“Okay but what if there were other cuter worms? Like if I weren’t your ideal worm girlfriend, would you still date me?”

“Baby…”

#jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno

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msmargaretmurry · 4 months

Note

I'm so sorry, this is totally not in response to the compliment post you reblogged (I'm afraid I can only compliment you un-ominously, you are my favourite author in the mattdrai fandom and ily ❤️)

but I've been meaning to send you this ask for the last two days and I can't wait any longer, I HAVE to know!! I know you're a busy person - so feel free to ignore this or answer it when you have time or keep your response really short!

So. I'm doing my quarterly HAW reread right now and I have two new questions that I think (?) I never asked you before.

during the scene in the dressing room of the gym, what are leon's thoughts? matthew is obviously a little ... affected by unexpected physical contact but I'm wondering about leon. is he only thinking "what a weirdo" or if he's taken aback by his own reaction too? what is going through his mind? please tell meeeeee!

when is the first time leon puts on matthew's shirt at home and in what context? does he already have feelings for Matthew? what is he thinking when he does it? when is the first time he wears it in front of his teammates and do they call him out on his non-existent connection to st. louis? I need more details about this soooo badly.

THANK YOU!

my dear miriam, i am always accepting non-ominous compliments 😂❤ thank you, ily. please find the answers to your inquiries under the cut.

1) the scene in the dressing room at the gym — both of them are such messes in this scene, lmao. matthew is being a dick because he's in a mood, and leon is confused and annoyed and also coming off as a dick, especially as seen through matthew's pov, who is just assuming the worst of leon's opinion of him at every turn and reading every hint of brusqueness or sarcasm as plain old dislike.

leading up to this scene, leon's been in toronto for a few days. he's mostly having a pretty good time, hanging out with connor, seeing some of the other guys, etc. connor keeps ribbing him that he should talk to matthew; leon keeps rolling his eyes and saying he's not interested anymore, which isn't NOT true, but mostly the thing is that matthew has never shown any real interest in leon, which has wounded leon's pride and therefore he has decided he's not interested anymore. (connor doesn't 100% believe him when he says he's not interested anymore, but mostly he just doesn't care if leon is lying or not because it's fun to tease him.)

anyway on this particular day he's partly kind of in a bad mood because his ankle is bothering him, and partly kind of in a bad mood because he feels a little like he's being made fun of, between matthew's instagram antics and how brady keeps coming to talk to him and connor. he's feeling a little paranoid that maybe someone overheard one of connor's teasing comments and told the tkachuks about it and now matthew thinks leon actively has a thing for him. which, even if he did, connor has earned the right to tease leon about stuff like that. matthew has not. and connor has always said matthew's a nice enough guy off the ice but he's been kind of standoffish the whole time leon's been here, and leon isn't going to automatically take it personally like SOME people, but it is making him wary!

so he sees matthew head into the locker room and is maybe staring after him a little obviously, and connor is teasing him like, hey, seems like a great chance to go talk to him, and leon is in just a grumpy enough mood to be like, fine, i'll go talk to him, and it's going to go badly, and then you can get off my back about it, right? and he stalks over there trying the whole way to think of something normal to say, but it does not work, so he gets into the locker room and just kind of blurts the first thing in his head, and the conversation stumbles and faceplants from there.

the thing is, if they'd had this conversation on a different day, when leon was in a better mood and matthew was maybe a little less in his own head, it probably would have gone much better. maybe leon would even have tried flirting a little (or a lot). as it is, even with the collective moodiness of both of them, he still has the urge to flirt a little — which is SO annoying, because of course connor is right and he's still interested. extremely annoying thing to have to admit to yourself when the guy in question is standing there outwardly being a dick to you. it makes him determined to not let matthew wind him up, which of course gets him more wound up, which is how he ends up grabbing matthew by the wrist. there is definitely a moment when they're standing there like that where he has this flash of a vision in his head like: what if this sexual tension is mutual, and he kisses matthew right now, hard enough to bruise, and they just have wild nasty sex right there in the locker room.

but obviously this does not happen 😂 he wouldn't have tried it even if connor hadn't come in, he still would have just gone home annoyed about the fact that he is apparently definitely still into matthew tkachuk, even when matthew is being a dick. (this encounter is also a big part of why he's so wary and put-upon when he runs into matthew at boots, lol.)

so that is that!!

2) leon and matthew's shirt from boots — so obviously leon wears it for the rest of that night at the festival, and then shoves it in his bag with his other dirty clothes, washes it when he gets home, kind of ignores it for the rest of the summer because he feels very weird about how things went down in that rv, but does grab it when he packs for edmonton just in case matthew wants it back at some point. because he has already decided he needs to talk to matthew, so if matthew wants the shirt back, he wants to have it on hand.

he doesn't actually start wearing it until after the first time matthew comes over to his house, because at that point he figures if matthew wanted it back he'd've asked for it. his matthew feelings aren't super strong at that point but they are like — they're there, he's not in denial about that. it's not a big moment or anything, he's just grabbing something to change into to bum around the house for the rest of the evening, and it's there, and he's like… sure, i could wear this.

he does not expect to get in his feelings about it, but as he's lying around with bowie that night he does get a little in his feelings about it, because he keeps thinking maybe he'll send matthew a selfie of him wearing it and then chickening out. he's weirdly nervous about it! and that forces him to think about why he's nervous, which forces him to acknowledge that he doesn't just have feelings, he's actually pretty invested in what they're doing, and he'd be really bummed out if matthew wasn't also invested. "selfie in your clothes" feels like real relationship behavior, so maybe he'll just save that for when he's a little more sure that matthew is on the same page as he is.

the first time he wears it in front of his non-connor teammates is when the oilers take a roadtrip to st. louis 😂 they chirp him about being a tourist. but after that he can wear it whenever he wants! everyone thinks he just bought it in st. louis!

i hope these were satisfactory answers to your questions!! i'm glad you're still enjoying the fic ❤❤

#ask #matthew and leon #ratnovel #hockey for ts

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deblklesb · 1 year

Text

[Angel of the small death — Sevika × Reader OneShot]

[ballet dancer reader, bodyguard Sevika, smut (MDNI)]

Summary: Being Silco's daughter it's not some simple thing, especially thinking about the necessity of being guarded at all times. When a conflict starts, Sevika, his best employee, becomes your main bodyguard. It turns out things escalate a little bit until you bout break the tension.

a/n: boy oh boy this is BIG and it took me more time than i expected. this was an anonymous request so i can't tag the person who did it, but i enjoyed writing this, thanks sm! I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it, anon! 💗✨

cw: some violence (a loose member), blood, smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, fingering)

not proof read | 5.2k words

[reblogs are highly appreciated!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living is such a weird concept; that's all you can think about as you look through the songs on your playlists, laying on the bed. Nothing seemed to draw your attention, the assignment of your last class in mind created an urge to find the answers to your inspiration. It was a good thing, exactly what you needed now, and you couldn't let it slip through your fingers.

The plan was to show your teacher how capable you really were. Composition wasn't an easy thing, and even though you loved that subject the song was a major part to determine your next steps on that project. So you were searching restlessly, seeking for that high only an insight could provide, as fast as you could.

You had to interrupt your plans, though, when the screen of your phone showed an incoming call.

"Hi, dad", the other side of the line was weirdly messy, he usually tried to get a quiet place before calling you.

"You need to go to my office. I see you there in ten minutes"

"Is everything okay?" You sat on the bed. His tone wasn't usual either.

"I'll explain later. Now go."

When Silco tells you to go, you go.

The fact was that you didn't like your dad's work. All the illegal shit surrounded the places since you could remember, even if he tried hard to cover it in front of a kid. The whispers and smiles, usually opportunistics but also nervous, the feeling of being treated like a rare piece, the fear exhaling from people who knew what was happening but couldn't tell. You saw how everyone feared the slender, incisive man.

For quite some time you thought you should fear him too. But, for better or worse, he was a different person when he was with you. And as you grew old, he started to explain the situations and dynamics to you, teach you things, show what you could have. In your late twenty's now, you could use a gun and threaten people using an infinite amount of goons, but you definitely rather not.

Another thing he did was give you whatever you wanted. And some would say that wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't all that bad either. I mean, come on; he would let you go to the water park and in exchange you wouldn't miss behave, it was actually a very fair agreement. So he let you play with puppies when you were young, go out with your friends when you were a teenager and, most importantly, he'd encourage you to be a professional ballet dancer.

Thinking about his honesty and open conversations, you entered the crowded building right before David, your bodyguard, ignoring the loud music, usual from a never ending night at The Last Drop. Since that was a common scenario for you, stopping to look around and enjoy the mood wasn't necessary. Your father's tone on that call was enough to make you walk upstairs, directly towards his office at the end of the hallway.

Aside from what you feared, the scene in front of you was actually kinda unsettling. For sure he was a man that started to tell you stuff while you grew up, but a bloody finger on top of the table was new - it wasn’t attached to a body. Red stains on the wood were shining under the lights, contrasting too much with the green bathing the room due to the big glass window behind his desk. The finger had a cross tattooed on it and a golden ring, both now looking uncanny under the crimson that drew too much attention from you.

“You didn’t have a tattooed finger before”, was all you could say, almost out of breath.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Your eyes wandered around; there was the only unfamiliar thing, and still was capable of making you feel uncomfortable. It was a surprise for yourself, the girl who beat a school colleague at seven years old because she called you a bitch. Silco tried very hard not to congratulate you too much that day, speaking politely with the principal but also making a point of not allowing that other girl to get an apology from you; she was cursing you, not the other way around - and it wasn’t just because some childish argument, the fact that you were from Zaun made you a target of mean looks and disdain all around Piltover while growing up. That girl had it coming (a broken nose) and you got a popsicle. So, yeah, blood wasn’t that out of your reality, but for some reason that detached finger made you change the weight from one leg to the other, breathing deeply.

“What happened?”

“Some idiot had the idea of snitching, we lost a guy who was in Rebecca's factory.” The well dressed man pointed to the bloody, sole body part. “This was her way of telling she found out about our plans”

“Point made, I guess”

“I just called you here so we could arrange things with David.” You frowned, looking over your shoulder to the serious, suited man behind. “I’m assigning someone else to guard you from now on. At least until this troublesome, unnecessary hostility ends”

“You’re trying to invade each other’s business, I’m pretty sure it’s not that unnecessary, dad”, the amount of discomfort was making you uneasy. That conflict was growing too much, a finger wouldn’t be the most alarming body part to appear around.

As much as your dad had had numerous conflicts around, the tension between Glasc Company and your father’s business took a turn when Rebecca decided to sell drugs herself. Losing territory, the one he fought too hard to get, was very unpleasant.

So, with quick heartbeats and perspiring palms, you watched as your father gave David some papers and instructions. The tall guy nodded, turning and offering you a smile - probably for the second or third time, which made it look very off-putting for him.

“It was very nice working for you. I never said a thing because it wasn’t part of the work”, it was more words than you’ve ever heard from him. His voice was different that you thought based on the monosyllabic answers he always gave. “but your book recommendations and songs were good. Thanks”

“Well, that’s more than I expected, I genuinely thought you hated me.” You chuckled. “It was nice having you around, David”

Then he left the room and you were left with your dad and that stupid finger, Silco seated on his couch and grabbed a cigar. “Aren’t you going to grab that finger? I thought it was rude to show it around for nothing”, you seated next to him.

Even though your father wasn’t hurt, the aspect of where that war could lead to made you think about very violent and scary endings. He was a good criminal, but still a man, a mortal one.

“I need someone else to see it” He crossed his legs as you got closer, laying the head on his shoulder before he pulled you closer on a sided embrace. “She’ll come soon. Until then, tell me how your classes are.”

He always did that, since you were a kid. Being on a college level didn’t make that much of a difference in his eyes, at least about that topic. He would listen to you talk about muscle pains and lame history classes, instrumental music, group dynamics and upcoming events. It was simple and chill, but it was his way of connecting with you in an area he didn’t know a lot about, aside from your yearly spectacles.

“This new assignment seems tiring, darling” He observed. “But, like they say, break a leg. You will be just fine”

Before you could make a joke about his use of theatrical sayings, the door swung open to reveal a tall, cloaked woman with short dark hair. The look on her face revealed dissatisfaction when she traveled it from the detached, bloody finger to you; the same you knew very well from everytime you both crossed paths. The same one you couldn’t forget for two days after receiving it.

She just stood there, silent, hands on the side of her built body, looking directly at you as if she was waiting for something - or someone. You could involuntarily lose yourself under the grayish orbs, as much as you hated this fact, but an insight struck you.

You backed off your father, turning to stare at him, not getting a single word in response. That must be a joke.

“You can’t be serious”, the tone in your voice was almost desperate. He couldn’t be doing this, right?

“That finger points otherwise”

・・・・・・・・・・

Telling David you thought he hated you was a silly comment to cool the mood. Saying that Sevika probably hated you was an understatement.

The first time you met she had just been hired and you both made a scene when she didn't believe you about being Silco's daughter. When your father introduced you officially, she just looked annoyed and bit back some unpleasant comment, knowing very well that it could cost her work.

Since then, you haven't spoken peacefully with each other. She always had a snarky comment about your classes and the way you behaved - which, to be fair, she wasn't kinda wrong; every year you realized how stupid you could've been the year before, maturity didn't come out of nowhere. Sevika herself got more mature too. She was probably five years older than you and with much more life experience, but she wasn't the holder of all knowledge and could be very judgemental too.

Putting you together wasn't a choice your father made for nothing. Sevika was his best employee. She fought better than anyone and would prioritize your safety at all costs, since it was her job now. That meant that if you wanted to go somewhere, Sevika had a saying on if you could go or not. If you wanted to visit a new place, it had to be checked before. If you wanted to stay up all night practicing in a studio you rented - because your apartment wasn't that big in order to not draw too much attention -, she had to be there and also get more people to guard the building.

And that's exactly what was happening right now.

A month since the finger incident, with Sevika being your bodyguard. She didn't look pleased. And you could say you weren't either… But that would be a massive lie.

Because you liked her looks in your direction when you were getting out of classes, and you liked the way she rolled her eyes at your bad jokes, the ones you did solely to annoy her - you were very mature but you also loved to annoy her. You liked to stand next to her on coffee shop lines, instead of being in front of her, and you liked to dress better just so she could give you a look from head to toes whenever you got out of your apartment in the mornings.

Honestly, who could judge you?

You didn't realize those things until a week later after this whole shit started, when you tried to get off one night and accidentally imagine her. It was a very embarrassing moment and you forced yourself to sleep as soon as you got back from that high, but the image didn't fade away. The image of her towering you and kissing you, pressing her body against yours in the most desperate way. You got off imagining kisses and intimacy with Sevika. Not necessarily pornographic scenarios, no; just the thought of her lips on yours and how she would react when feeling you on her fingers, her face and the words she could say, the heavy breaths. That turned you on. The feeling of being so close you could feel the heat and your heart beat faster.

You don't know what is the worst part: coming when imagining Sevika, or the fact that what got into your mind wasn't even that explicit. It was so simple, it made you pissed off about how she could affect you with so little.

But it was just a fantasy, a distant and unrealistic one. She didn't like you. Right?

Right.

That ideas were fucking you up bit by bit. At this point it was difficult to practice, head far gone, not in the slightest focusing on that amazing song you got to choose - La Danse Macabre was one of your favorite pieces and fit the theme well in your vision. So you needed to compose a four minute choreography and you have been practicing it for four weeks straight. You'd go from classes to the studio every day, staying up until late. Your feet hurt, your body was most definitely not that used to the extra effort, but it would be worth it. Not to brag, but it was kinda dope.

So there you were, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to convey all the feelings you needed to: the sensuality of death, calling the viewer in the most subtle and dangerous way at first, but ending up being beautiful.

Your body gesture had to be on point with the postures and the weight of the moviments, it wasn't easy the fact that you would present it alone.

At some point, you didn't know when, you noticed Sevika on the corner next to the door. She was just there, quiet, looking at you.

Her presence threw you off. You slipped a little, losing timing and concentration. "Fuck", you hissed.

The song stopped when you reached your phone to pause it. Looking at the time, it had been three hours since you arrived. Your legs were sore and, honestly, the concentration was so little that just the image of that woman was enough to make you lose it. Tiredness and frustration got into you, making you sigh and turn to her. She didn't move an inch.

"What are you looking at?" That sounded more harsh than you wished.

"I thought you were a dancer. They usually are looked at, anyways", she didn't seem to diminish anything there, or to bother by your tone. That fucking look she had, the one that told you how you wouldn't get anything from her; it was nerve-wracking.

You thought you saw her eyes wandering through your body, but it probably was just some illusion.

"Yeah, I guess so", you shrugged, trying not to notice her posture or to imagine her torso under that cloak. And shirt. Numerous thoughts came back; no, illusions. Fantasies. Sevika holding you and her breath against your skin, would the feeling of her torso under your palms be so pleasant? Would her lips be so good on yours? Would the warmth give you butterflies? "Do you like what you see?"

The fact that you said "see" and not "saw" didn't click immediately; you weren't talking about the dance.

Sevika gulped. She gulped while analyzing your body on that collant and pantyhose, thinking about how your would skin feel under her touch. How she wanted to hear you calling her name and gasping, while she tried to make you feel so good like you never felt.

The looks weren't just your imagination. The way she noticed you dressing a little bit differently, that was real. And she'd spent the day trying to focus on her work and not laughing at your horrible jokes, or not feeling too good about you succeeding in your classes and beating all those snobs' pilties. She wanted to congratulate you about the choreography and say how she would follow you without question if you were death, because dying under your hypnotizing moves would be a blessing.

She wanted to say how you could do whatever you wanted to her.

So that question was so timely. The smirk on her full dark lips made you shiver, a feeling pooling on your stomach, anticipation. Gods help you, the need to kiss her was so fucking overwhelming now.

"I do, actually", Sevika said. "I like it very much. It's a gorgeous view"

It could be all. That moment could end and you'd never mention it again, leave it like water under the bridge. But, oh, you wanted to drown. You wanted to drink that water, savor it, until that thirst ended.

So you gave a step. And seeing her chest moving with a breath, you gave another. You walked towards her carefully, like she could escape any minute, and when you were finally close enough that pressure seemed to crush your chest, taking the air from your lungs.

In your life it wasn't that many times you'd sweat before kissing someone. And yet there you were, palms perspiring because Sevika wasn't moving.

"Show me how you like it, then", you said. "I'm a physical, practical learner, by the way"

She chuckled lightly, looking away and then to you again. That could literally cost her life or yours.

You could be the angel of her small death, and Sevika would die happily.

Throwing all the reasoning away, she finally touched you. She pulled you close and erased the space between your lips, poisoning herself in your taste and your tongue. Your mind flooded with stimuli: her lips and tongue, her shoulders under your hands, the weight of her touch on your hips, the imaginary scenes your mind created to make you ask yourself about what you both could do.

The small moan that escaped between the kiss made her hold you tighter, dominating that moment with her need. Her hair felt soft, intertwined with your fingers, and the muscles pressing yours made your head spin. It must be a gift from the goddesses.

It didn't matter the other guards outside of the room or the building, right now it was just you both.

"Show me how you like it", you whispered, untying her cloak to reveal her strong torso and shoulders covered by the dark shirt. "How you'd like to take me"

She groaned, kissing you again and pulling you by the thighs, forcing you to wrap the legs around her as she walked to sit on a simple couch there.

The feeling of her body under your touch was capable of numbing your thoughts, skin warm and scarred. Her kiss was so fucking intoxicating, consuming you from inside out while she grabbed your flesh.

When her lips traveled through your chin and jaw, going to your neck, you sighed and moved the hips on her lap. Your fingers got the elastic off her hair, letting the strands fall loose around her face as you pulled back to look at the woman. The dark grayish eyes and the full lips, beautiful nose, that jawline, some scars around; Sevika was so pretty it took your breath away.

"I don't think you want to spend all the time looking at me, princess", she murmured and her voice made all your body respond. The smirk added to her movements to lose your hair from the high bun; fuck, you were out of words. "What? Did the cat get your tongue?"

"I'll look at you a lot later", you finally said, fingers caressing her features as she analyzed you closely. "Now I really need you to handle me around"

Sevika's smug was something so intimate to you, something that, you swear, could make you go insane.

She pulled the straps of your leotard, eyes still glued to your reactions as the cool air reached your nipples, making you sigh. Without wasting any more time, Sevika held you by the waist with the prosthetic hand and used the other to play with one breast. A warm tongue tasted the other one, and she was so careful to let you feel every inch of that contact. You felt that throbbing between your legs more intensely the more she twisted the muscle, savoring, tasting. Her thumb and index finger played with the free nipple, shivers across your body making you breathe heavily with the sensations.

Your hands worked on feeling every muscle you could, hips moving because the sensations spreading from between your legs through your body were getting more and more prominent. Her tongue was soft, but your attention got divided by the cool prosthetic hand pulling the leotard. You didn’t want to separate from her, but you had too.

Sevika kept looking at your body as you pulled away, getting up between her strong legs. And she analyzed as you started to take off the clothes and the pointe shoes. Being under her sight like that was something else, you could feel your heart beating across your whole body, getting heated and desperate. Her demeanor, the laid back posture, spread legs and trenchant look got you wanting to get on your knees. And that’s what you did.

Throwing the fabric pieces away, you started to unbelt her pants and pull the zip down while squatting and kneeling. She’d stare at you, at your easy hands and light touches going especially fast to open the clothing. The contrast between this and the way you looked at her could make her go impatient, but she held back the instinct to do everything on her time when seeing the hunger growing in you.

“I thought you wanted me to handle you”, she smirked while raising the hips to take away the pants, after doing the same with her shoes. You helped, caressing the muscular thighs with admiration in your mind. Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“And I hope you do”, you kissed the right thigh, trailing up slowly until you reached her crotch. Under the shirt you saw her abdomen contracting in response and the chest expanding with her heavy breaths. “Never rode someone’s face?” You smirked, right hand touching the side of her body, up and down.

As you imagined, she then proceeded to lean in your direction while a hand grabbed you by the, now, loose hair. It wasn’t hard, but enough to make you throb and, for sure, get more wet. When she noticed your reaction was positive something shifted. Her pupils blown, and you could notice the mood changing by the glit in her eyes.

She got so close the tip of your noses bumped, silence crushing you while she made sure you wouldn’t falt back. And then, you could swear, Sevika got a bigger hunger in her. “Finish taking this shit off”, she said.

You needed a second as she laid back again. She arched an eyebrow as a cue for you to pull the boxers off, and as much as you tried you didn’t paid a single fuck to where that piece of fabric went. Not when Sevika drew you closer with a single ministration through your head, pulling you to her core as your heart beat faster.

She was wet and, fuck, she looked so appealing. Your mouth watered as you rested the hands on her bare thighs.

“Tongue out”, you obeyed.

Sevika finally pulled one last time and a satisfied, low sound got out of you, as you finally tasted her. And, oh, she was delicious.

Her hips started to move, the vision from that angle would never fade from your mind. She was enjoying this, dragging her core on your tongue, holding you there so you couldn’t leave, using you to her pleasure. And your mind was getting too crowded with that much information in the best way. Your pussy clenched when she moaned low, nipples somehow getting even harder to the point of hurting. Her taste was being scattered around your mouth and you wanted to be there for your whole life.

“Flat your tongue”, and you did, with a rush that made her smirk. Her abs would flex with her movements, so as her thighs.

Having Sevika riding your face was something so heavenly, so divine. You almost envied those girls in the brothel, who could get to do it so much, but then you'd remember that this woman was so worked up already because of you.

Her bud against your palate, the juices going on your lips and chin, the expressions due to the pleasure that came to bestow her, the loose hair falling on her face and the muscles contracting. The little wet sounds of your tongue against her core made the situation more erotic, and at some point you started to move the muscle that was in contact there. It drew a moan from Sevika, who was using the left arm to sustain her weight while she rubbed herself on you, seeking pleasure.

The more the seconds went by, the more Sevika loosened herself. She started to fault in her moves, twitching and spasming as her dark gray eyes ate the sight of you so eagerly tasting her. A small moan escaped, followed by a growl and her legs spreading more.

Your hands flew to her breasts under the shirt, palming the warm flesh, searching for her nipples as you hummed against her core. The vibrations pleased her.

The way you started to flick your tongue heavily got the tall woman groaning and pressing your head harder against herself. You saw the frown and the way her eyes rolled before closing, her body tensing, the shaky and sharp breaths as you felt her getting excessively wet.

"Fuck–!" She gasped, a smirk on her full, attractive lips. "So good, princess", her words were as smooth as the caresses the woman made on your hair, still spasming everytime your tongue drew on her swollen bud.

The flavor was divine; you thought as you palate went on her entrance. The fact that you could taste her forever made you hotter, eager, needier.

Sevika leaned and pulled you again, making you sulk a little at the distance from that heavenly position. But then she got you back on her lap, against her chest, legs open.

Even though no one else was there, you felt exposed. As if your secret were being revealed and, suddenly, the whole world could watch as your most recent forbidden fantasies played out.

The way she held you there, prosthetic hand under a knee as the other one traveled around your naked body, creating heat paths on your skin. Her lips distribute kisses along your neck and shoulder, taking sighs from you. And underneath all of it was an overwhelming heartbeat that got you panting at the sensation of her touch going south.

"Shit, you're dripping", she whispered, getting your attention. You turned to look at her, lips parted brushing on hers as her fingers went from your entrance to your already sensitive clit. "Got so worked up just from me riding your face?"

"Yes…"

Her digits, soaked, rubbed smoothly on your bud. You rested a hand on her hair, the other playing with your nipples as she tortuously stimulated your core.

"So good… Do you get that wet when you touch yourself thinking about me?"

You froze, eyes wandering around her face just to capture that smug. Despite that, Sevika didn't stop. She kept working on you, massaging your whole cunt, getting her own palm full of your moistures as you felt yourself throb. "I heard you one night. You didn't even notice you called my name, uh?"

Shit.

You actually did. With her on the other side of the door, you kinda expected that you had said it lower than it actually was, and that she hadn't listened to it that night. But it seems like life wouldn't let it pass.

"So now" Sevika kissed you, pecking on your lips as her fingers concentrated on your sensitive bud. "Let me hear you. Loud and clear"

Her ministrations were making you move your hips. Everything started to be too much, her breath against your skin, the cold of the prosthetic hand and the air. You wanted to give in entirely, wishing you were at home so she could rail you on your bed. She increased the speed, having your moans growing bit by bit.

It felt good. Too good. You kept messing with your own breasts, eyes rolling with your hips and her hand, feeling that high approaching.

"Getting all loosen up and relax for me, I might as well fuck you again tonight, princess", she hissed, taking a small smile for you as two of her fingers pressed and got inside of you.

You moaned more languidly as she moved with ease, in and out smoothly due to how wet you were. And it didn't take long until you felt that pull in your stomach, clenching around her digits and gasping, whining, a hand full of her hair as you moved without control.

The climax made you arch your back, her fingers came back to circle on your clit again as you trembled and murmured some incomprehensible words. Throbbing and spasming; that woman made you so full of desire it was ridiculous.

"Gorgeous", Sevika whispered, kissing your neck as you came down from your high, breathing deeply and feeling your body floating on her lap.

"That was some stupid shit", you chuckled, panting.

Her hands closed your legs and helped you turn a little so you could rest on her prosthetic arm and look better at her. Some sweat drops were on her forehead and the side of her neck, the dark skin glowing a bit.

"I learned a lot today, thanks", the woman laughed, accepting your touch on her face. "It was very delightful"

"I'm glad I could provide you some knowledge", her right hand rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your skin. "I hope on the future you can teach me how to make your fantasies come true"

At that, your core sent a shiver through your body, heat rising slightly. "Maybe someday I'll tell you"

Sevika nodded as you rested the head on her shoulder. She felt warm. Was it wrong to want her on your bed?

"I'll look forward to it"

・・・・・・・・・・

Your body was full of energy right now, the feeling of being on top of the world consuming you from inside out. It was almost possible to feel every molecule vibrating, twisting your guts.

"Call another guard", you murmured to Sevika discreetly while passing by her.

She followed you outside the building of Art classes, looking around as usual. The car was waiting, following the time established by orders.

The whole way to your apartment was silent. Your class came back to memory, the sensation of finally presenting the piece you've been planning for weeks now. The music took you away and, during those notes that reverberated on your flesh, no one was there. Just you and the music, working together. And it didn't feel real when your teacher congratulated you with a smile on her fine lips; she wasn't the type of teacher to smile that much. That meant a lot. It was huge actually.

But before telling anyone, you wanted to let all this energy flow to something else. To somebody else.

So you waited until a knock on your bedroom door, and you saw her getting inside carefully, confusion on her face as you asked her to sit by a corner.

Resting on your bed, heartbeat increasing, you moistened your lips. "Do you wanna know what else I fantasized about?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[dividers by @froopis]

#sevika oneshot #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika fic #sevika x reader smut #sevika x reader fanfic #sevika x reader fic #deblklesb #arcane fanfic #arcane oneshot #arcane fic

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭!

〚 Main Masterlist || Request Here 〛

Hey, hey! I decided that instead of having a bunch of separate prompt lists it’d be easier to have one big one. So I combined all my prompt lists together to make one big list. This means I can just reblog whenever new ones are added! So same deal as usual, if you wanna request just pick some things from this list with your character choice :D

>〚 Request Here! 〛 <

〘 totally feel free to reblog this list and to use it in your own writing too 〙

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐨𝐮𝐞:

“I don't feel well.”

“I'm fine. Stop worrying”

“Relax, it's just a cold.”

“I'm not sick. I literally do not get sick”

“I think I'm coming down with something.”

“Its just allergies!” (Totally isn't)

“No. I don't have hayfever.”

“Can we take a bath together?”

“Does my forehead feel warm to you?”

“I’ve missed you today.”

“I can't be sick right now! I have so much stuff I need to do”

“Is it cold in here, or is it just me?”

“Is it warm in here, or is it just me?”

“Baby, can you pass me the tissues?”

“Don't freak out but...”

“I’d keep your distance babe, this is pretty gross.”

“Do we have any coughdrops?”

"Cmon, you know I don’t get sick.“

"My head feels funny”

"I just need some sleep, I’ll be fine"

"Please stop worrying"

"Wait!.. Don’t go.“

“I’m Wallowing in self-pity.”

"Couldn’t you keep your cold to yourself?“

"Stay still, you’re making me dizzy.”

"…The central heating broke.“

"I’ll rest later! I have really important work stuff to finish.”

*sniff* “No, I don’t need a tissue.”

“Woah… Why is the room spinning?”

“Tissues are for sick people!”

“This isnt fair! Germs should see me and run the opposite way”

“You infected me.”

“I caught your stupid cold!”

*sniff* “We ran out of tissues.”

“Don't come too close. You don’t wanna catch this.”

“I'm really gross right now.”

“Can we shower together?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our plans…”

“I don’t need you to check my temperature, Im fine!”

“I thought the medicine was non-drowsy…”

“I’m not drinking it! It tastes disgusting!”

“Can we cuddle?”

“I don’t think I can walk straight right now.”

“If you keep kissing me then you’re going to catch this junk.”

“I think that maybe…possibly… I might be sick.”

“Can we please just snuggle on the sofa?”

“I'm just trying to get all this work done! I have no time to rest.”

“You’re overreacting, Im fine!”

“All I’ve done today is catch your cold!”

“You don’t need to worry about me sweetie.”

“I’ve felt worst.”

“You probably shouldn’t kiss me.”

“Hey! Your gonna catch this now.”

“Do I look okay to you?”

“I must look a mess…”

“I’m not really feeling too hot.”

“This can't be happening-“

“Can you budge up, I wanna lay with you.”

“You need to stop worrying about me.”

“Im going back to bed.”

“I can see you staring at me. You’re not discreet y’know?”

“Naps are only for babies and old people. Im neither.”

“I felt funny this morning, but it wasn’t this bad.”

“I don't care what you talk about, can you just keep talking?”

“I'm a little out of it today.”

“We need to buy more tissues.”

“I do not have a cold!”

“I can't use toilet paper, it makes my nose get all chapped!”

“I'm not pouting…”

“I'm allowed to be miserable.”

“Oh Im sorry. Is my sickness bothering you?”

“You worry too much.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll live.”

“Hey! Don’t tease me whilst I'm sick!”

“You gonna nurse me back to health?”

“I'm not feeling too hot.”

“You better not complain when you catch this.”

“I'm just a little under the weather that’s all.”

“I said I was fine.”

“I don’t need you to nurse me, I'm perfectly fine.”

“Y’know… I heard cuddles can cure colds quick.”

“I sneezed twice, is that a crime?”

“You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“It's just a silly little cold.”

“Do you actually think I’ve had time to go out and get a flu-shot?”

“It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles.”

“I want a hug.”

“Don’t get lost in the sea of tissues.”

“I'm not grumpy.”

“Sharing is caring afterall.”

“Can you just shut up for a second?”

“That medicine tastes gross.”

“I just can't stop sneezing!”

“I don’t get colds.”

“You don’t need to take care of me, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re really sweet for wanting to look after me like this.”

“I totally just got my germs all over you!”

“We were meant to go out tonight!”

“I didn’t want to cancel on you…”

“Is it obvious..?”

“Did you come home just to look after me?”

“Aw, you made me soup?”

“You’re literally my favourite person on earth right now.”

“Can I lie on you?”

“Can you turn the lights off, they’re giving me a migraine.”

“I think I caught that bug you had.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“My boss won't let me take a sick day.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

"Why are you laughing at my misery?"

“Are you seriously going to say bless you every single time I sneeze?”

“I think I’m catching something.”

“I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“For the hundredth time, I am not sick!"

“I don’t don’t have time or energy to be sick right now.”

“Can you please stop pacing, you’re making me dizzy.”

“You gonna nurse me back to health then, Show me some bedside manner?”

“Jeez, if thats your beside manner, I’d rather take my chances on my own.”

“I can feel you drawing shapes on my back… it’s nice.”

“Maybe I should get you sick too so we can be miserable together.”

“I can’t tell if this movie is just boring or its because I’m sick but I’m really sleepy.”

“You’ll stay here while I sleep?”

“You’re hovering…”

༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞:

“You feeling alright?”

“Bless you! Are you sure you're ok? You never sneeze this much.”

“Babe, im saying this in the nicest way possible, you look like shit”

“Your cheeks are flushed”

“Let me feel your forehead.”

“We need to get that fever down.”

“I’ve never seen you this sick.”

“So much for your perfect immune system.”

“We’re going back inside.”

“Jeez, you look half-dead.”

“Let's get home so we can get you feeling better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your health isn't a joke.”

“Thats it. You're going to bed.”

“Let's just cuddle”

“Your never usually so quiet.”

“Aw, you're all sniffly.”

“Wow. Bless you! That didn't sound too good.”

“I'm going to take care of you.”

“Would you like some tea?”

"You look like death warmed over.“ "Bless you!… since when do you sneeze more than once?”

"I’m getting you something for that fever.“

"Make sure you wear something warm.”

"You’re going to catch your death out here.“

"Slow down, you’re slurring your words.”

"I’m going to run you a bath.“

"Baby you're shivering.”

"Your eyes are glassy.“

"Aw, your nose is all red.”

"You know we own tissues for a reason, right?“

"You need some more rest.”

"What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed.“

"How did you get manage to get this sick, this fast”

"Date night can wait, your health is what’s important.“

"Blow your nose, I can’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

You can’t drive home in your condition.”

”There’s no way you’re going to stay home alone like this.”

“Please let me look after you.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, everybody gets sick.”

“Please just sit down for a moment.”

“I’m not going to take that personally, your high on meds.”

“You shouldn’t be walking around when you’re this sick.”

“You can barely stand, nevermind go out and do a full day’s work.”

“If you sneeze one more time, I’m going to start getting worried.”

“Baby… Are you sick?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“How about we just snuggle and watch some movies.”

”Bless you… Bless you! Are you okay- bless you again!”

“It’s not like you to get this sick.”

“You really should be resting.”

“Please just lay down for me baby.”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Can you make it back to the bedroom?”

“Hmm… I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“You’ll feel better if you go and lie down.”

“Stop sniffling and go blow your nose.”

“Maybe you should just take it easy.”

“Your too stubborn for your own good.”

“You sound like you could use some more sleep.”

“God bless you!”

“Aw sweetie, your nose is all runny.”

“Somebody’s certainly sneezy today.”

“You’re not feeling well… are you?”

“Your shivering baby.”

“You’re sweating.”

“You’re definitely running a fever.”

“I’m going to need to take your temperature.”

“You should take my jacket.”

“Hey, hey, we can worry about that once you’re feeling better.”

“You’re past the contagious phase… right?”

“Make sure to drink plenty of fluids.”

“Let’s just have a lazy day.”

“Was it really worthy getting soaked?”

“I told you to wear something warm.”

“Are these flowers bothering you?”

“Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles.”

“There’s no way that you’d make it past lunch in your condition.”

“We could shower together if that’d make you feel any better.”

“The steam will help with your congestion.”

“Goodness, you look like your about to pass out.”

“Baby you’re delirious.”

“Let’s just get you home and into bed.”

“Its your fever that’s making you feel cold.”

“We should really get you in a cool bath.”

“You can’t work in your condition.”

“There’s no need to worry. I have everything covered, just relax.”

“Wait… You’re not allergic to that, are you?”

“I didn’t know you had cat allergies!”

“Want me to make you some soup?”

“Do you need me to carry you?”

“You’ve been sniffling all day.”

“Do you need any extra blankets?”

“Baby please let me take you home.”

“I have tissues in the car.”

“You can sleep in the car, don’t worry, I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“You should really try and eat something.”

“Those sniffles of yours really turning into something, huh?”

”There's way you're going out. Not with that cold.”

“You’re looking a bit pale sweetheart.”

“Use a tissue for god's sake!”

“You’re not one to go quiet, what's up?”

“My poor baby is all sniffly, aren’t you?”

“Oh honey… You can't be outside like this.”

“Don’t be offended or anything. But you look horrible.”

“I think you caught my cold…”

“It sounds like you’ve caught that bug going round.”

“You’re in bed early. You feeling alright?”

“Oh my god. You’re completely burning up!”

“I think your fever is spiking.”

“We should get you into bed.”

“Cmon, let's get you into the shower.”

“You need a tissue?”

“Jeez, blow your nose before you drown in your own mucus.”

“Don’t worry, I'm gonna take care of you.”

“How long have you been like this?”

“If you’re trying to be subtle, I'm sorry but you’re doing an awful job.”

“I bet I could toast a marshmallow on your forehead.”

“I think you have the flu, nobody’s ever this sick with a cold.”

“Want some ice cream for your throat?”

“We’re going home, right now.”

“Come on, let's get you wrapped in warm.”

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

“We’re gonna stop at the pharmacy, okay?”

“You can sleep in the car.”

“You’re home early?”

“Do you not see how pale you are right now?”

“Let's get you into bed.”

“Cut the crap. I know you’re sick.”

“Hush now, otherwise you’re going to lose your voice.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly hygienic.”

“You’re kinda cute when you’re all sick and needy like this.”

“I'm now going to give you some tissues and pretend I never saw that.”

“You need to wear something warmer.”

“If you don’t get into bed willingly then I will personally carry you there.”

“I thought you said that you were feeling better?”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed; you’re allowed to be sick.”

“Are the rumours true, is the (name) actually sick?”

“I’d kiss you right now if you weren’t contagious.”

“Your too stubborn for your own good.”

“Let me take care of you.”

“I told you that you should stay home from work today.”

“Okay Ms I’m-not-sick, tell me why you sneezed five times in the span of an hour.”

“Are you done pretending you’re fine?”

“The only place you’re going is back to bed.”

“I know, sweetie, but you have to take it so your fever goes down.”

“Did you manage to get much sleep? I heard you tossing and turning all night.”

“You might be coming down with something....”

“You’ve really got the sniffles today, haven’t you?”

“I’m not leaving you until i know you’re better, and that’s final.”

"When were you planning to tell me you were sick?"

"You're sick. If you overexert yourself, you're gonna get sicker."

“Great… Now I have your germs all over me.”

“I swear to god, If you don’t get back in bed, I will physically drag you there.”

#Prompts #Prompt List #sickfic prompts #whump prompts #snzfic prompts #comfort prompts #sickfic #snzfic #whump #comfort #fluff #my prompts #illness #flu #snz #sickness #caretaking

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bella-rose29 · 5 months

Text

Not Your Lover - Chapter 8 (final chapter)

Gregor finally gets some backstory (been a long time coming) although it's actually quite depressing (I'm sorry)

shit goes down in this one (both bad and good)

ok edit: this is the last part of this series (I know 😭), there's a better explanation on the master list if you would like, but thank you to everybody who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just read and enjoyed <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing, the mother is (you guessed it) still a bitch, mentions of death, mentions of a stillborn, grief, Gregor sees Nik as a son (I cried writing that honestly he's so sweet), the mother gets her ass verbally handed to her, idk what else there is other than it's only been proof-read once

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bish-lasagna, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mrsklockwood, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @shadowwolf202101blog, @simbaaas-stuff

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from my Nikolai tag list <3

series master list

Y/n was having a shit day.

She hadn't seen Nik- Nikolai, since he'd told her who he was the day before, and she felt awful about how she'd dealt with it. It was irrational, really, since she knew that he wasn't Davor, but the doubts about what else Nik- Nikolai (Saints, that was still difficult to get her head around) was lying about were creeping in. Her mother's presence in the mansion at the moment was doing absolutely nothing to help.

"-and Davor says that he overheard the two of you the night of the faire, you know, when I found out that the two of you were 'together', and Davor says that he heard you talking about how you were going to pretend to date so that you could use me for your grant! And Davor says tha-"

"Saints, mother! Stop talking about Davor! 'Davor says this' and 'Davor says that', it's exhausting just listening to you!" Y/n was working on the third room, the deadline closing in far too fast for her liking.

Everything would be easier if Nik was helping.

She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts of him, and went on stubbornly ignoring her mother's incessant rambling, picking up a brush and painting the walls. The entrance hall and first front room were done, but they'd taken longer than she'd expected and now it was a rush to get the third and fourth rooms done in six days. In fairness, she only really had to put the final coat of paint on these walls and finish tidying up and then the second front room was done. It was the final room that was stressing her out, since it needed clearing out, floors replacing, furniture replacing, everything replacing, really, and she'd barely touched it.

Her father had promised to help, which she would be eternally grateful for, but even with somebody lending a hand Y/n had no clue how she would ever get the project done in time.

"You know, I should have expected something like this from you. You're a terrible daughter, do you know that? All I ever wanted was the best for you and you had the audacity to lie to me and take me for granted."

Y/n stopped her work again to stare up in incredulous shock at the woman that called herself her mother. "What? I'm a terrible daughter? You do realise that the only reason that any of this has happened is because of you, right? Because of your failings as a mother?" She stood up, hoping that she looked intimidating.

"How dare you insinuate that-"

"I fucking dare. Get the hell out of my property." Y/m/n wasn't moving, but neither was Y/n, and after a few moments the older woman seemed to realise that she'd lost this fight and left.

~~~

Gregor had smacked Nik for the third time that day, and it was barely lunchtime.

"Focus, boy!"

He felt bad about hitting him on the back of his head, but at the same time Nik hadn't been concentrating and was about to saw his fingers off, so Gregor thought that it was fair.

"Sorry," the younger man muttered, clearly still not with it.

"What's up with you?" Gregor asked, tone softening. "C'mon. If it's gonna stop you working effectively then we'll talk about it." Nik sighed, turning in his seat at the workbench, and for the first time that day Gregor could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"I told Y/n. She didn't... she didn't take it too well. And Davor and Y/m/n have started going around saying we were faking it-"

"You were though?" Gregor said, confusion lacing his voice.

"Well, yeah, but the point was that nobody was meant to know that. Although I did tell you pretty early on which kind of defeated the point, but you're good at keeping secrets so I felt safe telling you." Gregor's heart swelled at the words and at the knowledge that Nik trusted him enough to share something he wasn't supposed to. It hadn't been long after Nik's first appearance in Taya that Gregor started seeing the man as a son, helping to fill the hole in his heart that had been empty for so long. His wife had died during the birth of their firstborn son, only for the baby to be stillborn. Gregor had been wrecked, despondent and reserved, and eventually he'd moved out to Taya, hoping that the sea air would heal him. Work had kept his mind off of his past, but every now and then he'd be reminded of the two of them and had to close the shop, sitting in his grief all day doing nothing but staring blankly at a wall and periodically crying, his head in his hands. But Nik, bright and shining Nik, had been the son that Gregor never got the chance to meet, and so knowing that Nik felt that he was somebody he could talk to filled the older man with joy.

"Anyway," Nik continued. "I said I'd give her space. It wasn't the best time to tell her, to be honest, because Davor and her- Y/m/n were giving her shit, and then Evalina appeared, and I think it was just a lot to take in all at once." Gregor didn't miss the way that Nik stopped himself from calling Y/m/n 'Y/n's mother', and he found that, despite having known the woman for years, he agreed that she had been too despicable the past few weeks to be called a mother to anybody.

"Well, can you still help out with the mansion? I know she's stressed about that since she's got a whole room left that she hasn't touched and maybe that'll help her figure things out?"

"I don't know. I'd have to go when she's not there, I think. Otherwise I'll feel that I'm pressuring her into an answer or something."

"Well, she normally gets back here around seven bells, and heads out around five in the morning to get the bakery open. Not ideal hours for you to go and help out at the mansion, but I'll let you slack off a bit in the morning if you're tired."

"You sure? Thank you, Gregor. Really. I was going to ask where she's staying, too. She's here then?"

"Yeah. I've got a spare bedroom upstairs. Not the nicest, but at least the heating works," he joked, knowing full well that the hotel heating was complete shit. He'd tried many times to fix it, but somehow (he suspected the owners were Grisha and deliberately breaking it to avoid paying heating bills) it always ended up worse than before. Nik huffed a laugh, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Come on," Gregor said. "Let's get this desk sorted, yeah? If I remember rightly they're coming tomorrow morning to pick this up."

~~~

That night, Nikolai made the short walk to the mansion.

The street lamps dimly lit the way, making the shadows lengthen and concealing people walking along the pavements, but Nikolai wasn't afraid.

Not when he had his demon on high alert for any sign of danger.

Thankfully they made it to the building without incident, although Nikolai could have sworn that Davor was following him, and once they were inside he let his demon out.

"You're helping, alright? You can fuck around a little bit while I get started, but when I need your help, you help, okay?" His demon nodded, stretching out his wings and immediately running off into the bowels of the house. Nikolai sighed, then headed into the back room to make a start on clearing the space.

~~~

"What the fuck?"

Y/n was standing with her father in the mansion just after eleven bells the next day, staring at the empty fourth room.

"Do you... do you know what happened, Dad?"

"Uh... nope. Looks like somebody wants you to get this finished though. Not sure why they wouldn't just... come and help during the day," he frowned, shifting the toolbox he carried. Y/n frowned for a moment too, until she realised who was most likely to do something like this.

"Well," her father declared, striding forwards. "Let's not waste time! We need to get these floorboards up and replaced! Come on!"

The next hour or so was spent doing just that, ripping up floorboards with much more aggression than was needed (both Y/n and her father were taking out their anger on the job), and by the time Y/n had to go back to the bakery they'd stripped the whole room and had made a start on laying the new boards. She was just stepping into her shop when Evalina appeared, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower on Y/n's behalf to not punch the woman in her stupid face right then and there.

"Hi, Y/n. So Nik is single, yeah? Because I would love to see what he's like as a lover."

"Fuck off, Evalina." Y/n walked around the counter, tying on her apron. "Unless you wanna buy something?"

"I'm not hearing anything saying I can't be with him, which is perfect! I'll go find him now!" She ignored Y/n's protests and pranced to the door, but didn't get a chance to open it and rush down the street because a woman had thrown her arm out. Holding the door closed, she raised an eyebrow at Evalina, her other hand resting lightly on one of the axes at her belt.

"You're gonna do no such thing, alright? Go and find some other poor sod to run after, because he is a taken man," the woman threatened, and Evalina paled slightly when an axe was lifted and held up to her throat, nodding so hard Y/n thought her head might go flying. Satisfied, the woman released the door and let Evalina disappear around the corner, watching her go, then turning to face the counter. "You're Y/n L/n, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Who are you?" she asked with a frown. How did this random woman know who she was?

"Tamar Kir-Bataar. You're in contact with Nikolai, correct?"

"No. Well, yes. Well, no. It's complicated," she finished with a sigh.

"But you know where he is? Because I need to find him and the little shit is being evasive. Does he ever open his mail?"

"Um, I don't- I don't know? Wait," Y/n frowned, picking up on something. "How do you know he's Nikolai?"

Now it was Tamar's turn to frown, clearly unsure what the situation was. "Because I used to work with him? Until he ran off into the countryside. Took a good while to track him down, sneaky bastard. He was always good at disappearing."

"Wha- okay." She huffed a sigh, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Well, he's probably at Gregor's, the mechanic. Although he could be taking a lunch break, but I don't know where he'll be if he is. Why do you need to find him?"

"The crown needs him. Urgent business. I'm not obliged to say any more than that, I'm afraid. Thanks for the help," she smiled, heading for the exit. The bell on the door chimed behind her, and Y/n replied to an empty room.

"You're welcome."

~~~

Nikolai dropped his spanner when Tamar walked in and called his name, which was unfortunate because he was on his back, and therefore the tool fell on his face.

"Fuck," he muttered, clutching his nose.

"You alright down there?"

"Yep, all good!" he called, hoping she couldn't hear the pain in his voice as he pushed himself out from under the carriage he was fixing. "Not that it's not lovely to see you, Tamar, but what are you doing here?"

"Zoya needs you. We've been trying to contact you for weeks now, but you haven't replied."

"When you say contact...?"

"Letters, mostly. Have you just not been reading your mail, Nikolai?"

"I haven't been getting mail. And just Nik would be great. People don't know who I am here, stops any assassination attempts. Well, Gregor knows, actually, but I doubt he's going to kill me."

"...Okay. Well, we need you to be Sturmhond for a little while. Shit's going down with the Kerch and they're refusing to loan us money right now despite our crippling debt because they don't like Zoya being on the throne."

"But they were fine with it when I abdicated a month or so ago. Why are they complaining now?" He wiped his hands on a nearby cloth, frowning at Tamar.

"They've got some new people on the council, and apparently they're really anti-Grisha. We need you to convince them otherwise and get those loans." Nikolai sighed, bracing himself against the workbench.

"I can't just uproot my life here, Tamar. I've got... stuff."

"Look, your girlfriend will still be here when you get back. You'll only need to be gone for what, two weeks at most?"

"My girlfr- oh, you mean Y/n."

"Yeah. Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know," he sighed, exasperated. Everything was happening far too quickly and all at the same time, and he had no idea what to do about any of it. On top of all of that, he was apparently meant to be receiving mail, none of which had arrived. "Look, I can't leave now. I've got jobs in the garage I need to finish off and the deadline for Y/n's project is in five days. Just give me until after then, okay?"

"We can't wait that long, Niko- Nik. There's trouble in Kerch and you're the only one good enough at getting what you want to fix it."

"There's always trouble in Kerch. Can't you send our good friend Kaz after them? He could threaten them in the middle of the night with murder or something."

"Kaz won't do it unless we pay him an inordinate amount of money," Tamar grumbled, and Nikolai couldn't help but think what a good idea that was.

"Five days, Tamar. And I'll give my most convincing speech yet, how's that?"

"Fine. But I want you going straight there, no detours. We're already behind thanks to your missing mail."

"Yeah, I'll look into that. I have my suspicions on who could have been intercepting my letters."

"I'm going to make the journey back. Five days. And then you make a move," she pointed a finger at him, stern look on her face.

"Five days." Five days to finish the third and fourth rooms. Five days to get Y/n back onside.

No pressure, then.

~~~

That night, Nikolai headed back to the mansion, his demon scurrying across the rooftops out of sight from pedestrians.

He spent most of his time laying the rest of the floorboards, then painted the walls with a first coat in the colour that Y/n had left with a note saying 'Room 4 walls'. His demon was helpful, or at least trying to be, picking up a brush in his mouth and attempting to paint the walls, but when Nikolai saw how haphazardly the job had been done he gave a tut and let the demon wander off and explore the rest of the mansion.

It was strange, how friendly the two of them were now.

Since the events within the Fold things had been different, almost as if now that they were two beings sharing one body they had to learn to get along or go mad instead. Nikolai had previously thought that he'd never be pleased to see the demon, or enjoy its company when it was a reminder of what he had suffered at the hands of the Darkling, but every now and then when it went quiet in his head he grew concerned, or when it chased after its own tail like a dog he laughed, and sometimes, in the depths of the night when nightmares kept Nikolai awake, the demon would curl up around him, offering what comfort it could.

Watching it now, he wondered how they were ever not this close. It was sort of like having a large cat, Nikolai thought. One that didn't shy away from a spot of murder.

The sound of stones being kicked made both man and demon swivel their heads to the entryway of the mansion, and Nikolai paused with the paintbrush mid-air.

"Hey, easy," he whispered to the demon, hoping it would take the hint and stop growling. Footsteps sounded, louder than the stones, and after a moment Y/m/n appeared. Nikolai was surprised to see her, not expecting her to turn up this late at night. He felt his demon hide itself in a corner, the long shadows helping conceal its dark form.

"Hello, Nik."

"Y/m/n," he said tightly, suppressing a grimace. "How can I help you?" He didn't bother disguising the contempt in his tone, no matter how schooled his expression was, and she noticed.

"You can start by going home. This is Y/n's project, not yours."

"Bullshit. She's just the manager of it. Anyone can help."

"Well, she needs to grow up. A child's dream is just that. Perhaps I entertained her fantasies too much when she was younger, but this has gone on long enough and I need to put a stop to it. So, put the paintbrush down, and go to bed. She needs to do this on her own, and when she inevitably fails she'll come home. Back to me."

Nikolai couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief that came out of his mouth, and now he made sure that she could see every emotion on his face. "You really think that she'll go back to you?" When Y/m/n nodded he only scoffed. Maybe she hadn't heard him properly at the market the other day. "You are delusional. You put her down, crushed her, destroyed her, and made her hate you with every fibre of her being, and now you think that she'll forget every comment, every moment where you made her feel like she wasn't a good enough daughter, and act as though nothing happened? No, I'm talking," he said when she tried to interrupt, his tone hardening. "You have ripped your family apart, and there is no amount of grovelling that you can do to get it back. You tore our relationship, too. Yes, it was fake to start with, but our feelings are real. So real that it fucking hurts to know that she has a mother like you, because you don't deserve her. I don't deserve her, but at least I know that she's the best I'll ever do and that I need to worship her like the goddess she is. You don't recognise that you've done anything wrong. And if you ever talk about her like that again, I will make good on my words from the other day. I will find you, and I will ruin you. Because she is the love of my life, and if she'll have me, my future wife. There's nobody but her for me." He paused, chest heaving from the realisation of what he'd just admitted. "We're done here. You can go." Y/m/n looked surprised at the dismissal, but the authority that had crept into Nikolai's voice made her scurry off into the night, her metaphorical tail between her legs.

The demon slunk back into the light, nuzzling up to Nikolai's hand in what felt like pride and comfort, and he was so preoccupied with giving it chin scratches he didn't notice the second figure that had been lingering outside the mansion.

~~~

"Nik? You here?"

"He's out," a voice replied, and Y/n deflated slightly when she recognised it as Gregor. "Went to get lunch. He should be back in about-" he checked his watch, then said "ten minutes. Do you wanna wait?"

"Uh... yeah, sure. Thanks, Gregor." She perched on a chair in the waiting area, anticipation making her buzz with energy. She couldn't sit still, leg bouncing and gaze darting around the room, and every second that passed felt agonisingly slow.

After seven minutes (and thirty-four seconds, although she definitely hadn't been counting) Nik walked in, and he froze with his eyes wide when he saw Y/n waiting in the shop. She stood up quickly, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to start the speech she'd been planning all morning. Gregor walked back out into the main shop after disappearing into the back rooms to fetch supplies, and upon noticing the two of them stood staring at each other, he excused himself, offering up his office as a quieter space for them to talk. They accepted, clumsily thanking him at the same time and walking hesitantly over.

Nik closed the door behind them, and despite the large room Y/n felt cramped, the air heavy with the words she couldn't find the strength to say just yet.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice quiet. He wasn't looking at her, and she was stubbornly refusing to look at him, but she could picture his exact expression.

"I heard you last night." She winced, not meaning to start there. He didn't say anything, and after a few moments of no sound but the clock in the office loudly ticking she braced herself and glanced up. "Nik? I didn't mean to say it like that. I just- the first night, when I came in in the morning and the room was clear, I assumed it was you, so I came over the next night to make sure, and also to talk to you, I guess. But then my mum was there and I was about to turn around and leave, but then you started talking to her and saying all those things and-" she broke off when he met her gaze, taking a breath.

"How... how much did you hear?" His voice was hoarse, like he was trying to hold back his emotions.

"From around when you told her she was delusional." She bit her lip, nerves taking over the small wave of confidence she'd just had.

"Right." Nik cleared his throat, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "And... do- what-"

"I love you, Nik. And I wanna try being with you, for real. I can't promise that I won't be wary, and I can't promise that I won't doubt you at times, but I can promise that that isn't your fault, it's Davor's. And I can promise that should you ever propose, I'll say yes." He took a shuddering breath, a shaky smile forming on his face as he took a step towards her. Y/n wasn't sure who moved after that, but somehow they ended up meeting in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as he held her face and kissed her like he'd never let her go again. They parted after a while, taking heaving breaths and resting their foreheads against each other. Nik didn't move his hands from her cheeks, and Y/n slid hers up to cover them where they sat, linking their fingers the best she could.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too. Just no more lies, yeah? I'm not sure I can handle that."

"Got it. No more lies." He went quiet for a moment and then said: "Is now a really bad time to tell you that I need to leave for two weeks?" Y/n pulled back so that she could search his eyes, huffing a laugh when she saw how concerned he was.

"I think it's a great time, actually. Does this have anything to do with that woman? What was her name... Tamar?"

"Yes. Apparently I'm the only one who can talk a nation into being cooperative. I've managed to make it so that I don't have to leave until after the deadline, though, so I can keep helping out."

"You didn't have to do that, Nik. Really."

"What, and leave you wondering where I'd gone? No thank you. You'd most likely murder me when I got back."

"I would never!" she exclaimed, laughing when he gave her a look that said he knew she was lying.

"Oh, you so would, darling." She'd forgotten how sweet the name sounded, sending her heart into a flutter.

"Hm, maybe," she murmured into his lips, moving her hands to wrap around his neck and hold him in place (not that he needed much encouragement). They only broke apart because Gregor coughed very loudly in the doorway, an unimpressed look covering up the smile he was attempting to hide.

"If the two of you could refrain from using my office as a room to fuck in that would be brilliant." Y/n snorted, and Nik nodded, both of them flushing at the thought. "Great. Nik, back to work. Y/n, I'll see you at dinner."

He swung the door shut behind him, leaving Nik and Y/n holding back laughter in the office.

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