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#and for all six of the people who are excited whenever i get around to posting: platonic hand kisses one and all
novelconcepts · 2 months
Text
writing with imposter syndrome in the driver's seat is just humming "no one caaares, no one caaaares, no one caaaares at allll
but iiiii care, so nyah nyah nyaaaaah" as i round the bend of yet another 10k words, and punching onward toward the next
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Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
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wonwoosthetic · 1 year
Note
Hi can you do anything that’s pre-outbreak of Joel and reader anniversary. It can be smut but the beginning can be Joel and Sarah planning the anniversary! I love their relationship so much
series masterlist
pairing – pre-outbreak!joel x reader
word count – 11.6k (this was supposed to be short and sweet... what happened...)
warnings – slight injuries, hospital scene but nothing major, cute smut (18+)
a/n – some more cute domestic joel stuff 🥺 with some smut hehe 😬 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like what I made with it ˙ᵕ˙ also just want to quickly take the time and thank you guys for all the love on my previous joel work, you actually made my app crash 😅🤭
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Happy Anniversary?
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After Sarah had finished her homework at the Adler's place, she ran home and hopped onto the couch to enjoy some child-friendly TV - being stuck in a house with only people over sixty wasn't really her favourite way of spending her free time.
It didn't surprise her when her dad wasn't home at six. It also didn't surprise her when he wasn't there yet at seven. Around eight in the afternoon though, she started to wonder. The only way she could reach him was the landline, so she leaned over the armrest of the sofa to get a hold of the phone before dialling the number her father had made her know by heart back in kindergarten. It didn't even ring. The robot's voice immediately let her know that he was unavailable. With scrunched eyebrows and her lips pressed together in a tight line, she leaned back into the cushions.
There was one other person that would probably know where he was. You. Another number Joel had asked her to learn once he had noticed that things were getting serious between the two of you. The girl didn't need to wait for long before the familiar tone of your voice rang through her eyes.
"Hello?" Of course, you had the number of Joel's landline saved in your phone, but you didn't know who of the Miller household was calling.
"Hi, Y/N!"
"Oh, Sarah, hey! How are you?"
Sarah smiled, just like she always did whenever she got to talk to you. The relationship the two of you had built up over the past year she had known you, was something very special. Not only did she love the connection you, from one woman to another, but she truly felt like you had a close friendship she wouldn't want to give up. Ever.
"I'm good, thanks, how are you?"
You sighed, "Good… now that I'm home."
"Adult work isn't getting any more exciting?" She joked, making you chuckle.
"Exactly." A second of silence passed before you noticed nothing coming from her side. "Are you okay?"
Sarah made herself more comfortable on the couch, "Yup… sorry that I called you-"
"Don't worry, sweetie, trust me, hearing you right now has been the best part of the entire day."
Your comment made her grin even wider, "Well I'm happy to make your day better," to which you both giggled. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything from dad. Did he say he has to work late today?"
You let her question register in your brain before you went through the conversation you had with Joel last night since you haven't heard from today yet. "Ehm… no, I don't think he said anything about that. Isn't he home yet?"
Sarah shook her head before realising, you can't see her, "No, so I kinda thought, maybe he's still at work, but… now I don't know."
"Maybe something came up-"
"He isn't picking up." That made you go quiet. "I tried calling him, and it just went straight to his voicemail."
You bit your lip. Oh, God. You knew the stress of a parent not being at home at the usual time just all too well, remembering all the times it had happened to you as a kid and you immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.
"What about uncle Tommy?" You suggested.
The girl was just about to open her mouth and answer when the front door opened. Her head snapped to her left, eyes immediately on the familiar figure of her father entering the room.
"Wow…" she breathed out.
"What? What is it?" You hastily wondered.
"Speaking of the devil," you could hear the slight annoyance in her voice, "Guess who just walked through the door?" Joel sent her a questioning look as he walked further into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch, right next to his daughter.
You couldn't help but chuckle, "Hm… maybe your father, who once again decided to work longer and not tell us about it?"
"Mh," she grinned before turning to the man and shaking her head with a frown on her face.
A breath of relief fell from your lips as you got up from your position on one of the armchairs in your living room, "Well then, mystery solved. You better interrogate the heck out of him."
"Without you?" She gasped.
"Oh, trust me, he'll get a good talking-to from me tomorrow." Your answer received a grin from the girl, followed by a subtle devilish giggle.
"Good. Thank you for picking up, not like some other people here." Her comment was clearly directed to her father, earning her a soft shove to her upper arm, making her grin.
You smiled, "Anytime, sweetie. I guess I have to go back to my boring life now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yep!" The happiness and excitement radiated off that little girl, lightning up the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of the following day. "See ya! Good night, Y/N."
"Good night, Sarah."
The youngest Miller placed the phone back on the side table, before turning to the oldest one, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She cleared her throat, "What do you have to say in your defence, Sir?" Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned back into the sofa with a groan, running a hand over his face.
"I forgot to tell you-"
"Oh, really!" She quickly exclaimed, interrupting Joel, receiving a warning glance from him, making her sulk back into the cushions.
"So as I was saying," he glanced at her, "I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you that I'd be in town after work. And I forgot to charge my phone."
Sarah scrunched her eyebrows, "What were you doing in town?"
Joel groaned, getting up to look for some food in the kitchen, "I wanted to get something for Y/N for tomorrow."
His answer made the girl laugh out loud as she got up to join him in the other room, sitting down at the dining table, "Are you serious?"
He looked up at her from his crouched position as he was trying to find something to eat in the fridge. "What?"
His daughter shook her head, "You're looking for an anniversary gift one day before your anniversary?"
Joel took out the container holding dinner from two days ago, grinning when it reminded him of you. Always making sure there was food in the house he lived in. You cared for him. And his daughter. "I've been thinking about what to get her for a few days, alright? But I haven't had the time to actually go and look for it," he defended himself, but it didn't get the look off the girl's face.
"And what did you find?"
He sighed, "Nothing. That's the problem."
"What are you gonna do now?"
"I have no idea…" Sarah could tell how exhausted he must be with the heavy breath leaving his lips. But the fact that he truly cared about getting you something special made her ecstatic. "You hungry?" Her father wondered, getting a shake of her head in response,
"I ate earlier." She shot up from her seat and skipped over into the kitchen, "So?! What are you gonna do?" Leaning on the counter, eyeing her dad suspiciously as he took a bite of the cold food with a fork. That also earned him a weird look from her, but he just wanted to get something into his stomach, not caring about the temperature - your cooking was gourmet to him in any way.
"I don't know," he answered, shrugging, "I can't believe I'm so fucking bad at giving gifts." Sarah ignored the swear word, blaming his fatigue, and didn't remind him of the swear jar you and her had brought into the house two months earlier.
"What did you gift her for her birthday?"
Tomorrow would be your first anniversary together.
A full years of being an official couple. While Joel was a romantic gentleman in every way possible, buying you flowers 'just 'cause', calling you sometimes multiple times a day 'just to hear your voice', keeping you in the house over the weekends and sometimes overnight during the week 'because he could never spend too much time with you', he still was a horrible gift giver - a fact no one could deny.
But more of a problem was your inability of receiving gifts. Because you hated it. You loved giving, hated receiving - not in all parts of life though. Especially not with Joel.
Though, whenever he had asked you what you wanted for your anniversary, birthday, or even International Woman's Day, he got the same answer each time: "I don't want anything." The truth was, you truly didn't. You've never been a big fan of material things, rather finding the thought behind something and a small gesture much more meaningful and loving. All the 'little' things your partner would do for you were enough - opening doors, carrying you whenever your feet hurt and taking you out for dinner on random days, were just a few of them. Yes, it may be the bare minimum, but still a rare minimum.
A rare minimum you had never been blessed with, with any of your past boyfriends. All until you met Joel and found out what it was like to have a true man by your side.
"That necklace you told me she'd like," he reminded her, brushing a hand over the wild curls he adored so much.
Sarah nodded with an open mouth, "Aaah, right right, I remember. She really did like that." They both nodded in sync. "But do you know what she loved even more?" Making the oldest Miller's head perk up,
"What?"
His daughter grinned at him, "The poster I made for her."
"True," he couldn't help but copy her facial expression, "She did like that a lot."
"She LOVED it!" Sarah shouted out, hitting her palms on the top of the counter, "She almost cried when she saw it," followed by giving her father a side-eye look, "She only said thanks to your gift, but she had tears because of mine."
Joel glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "What are you tryna tell me?"
"Y/N loves me more than you," she flipped an invisible strand of hair to underline her comment.
The older man smiled, "Sure."
"Buuut," she dragged out the word, leaning over to steal a piece of broccoli from the container Joel was eating out of, "I also think that she would just appreciate self-made stuff more than things you can buy."
He stopped for a second to think before nodding his head, "So you're suggesting that I what? Build something?" Sarah nodded. "And what exactly?"
"Man, what do I know… You're the contractor here." But all he could do was sigh. He was in fact the contractor, but what the hell had that something to do with anything. The man put the food to the side to make some space and place his elbows on the counter, shoving his face into his two palms, groaning out loud.
The daughter of the family stood by his side, staring at him in amusement, finding this situation much funnier than her dad. With a chuckle, she passed him placing a somewhat comforting hand on his back.
"You're a lousy gift giver." Her comment though was anything but comforting.
He straightened his back to glare down at the girl, "Thanks." But it just got a giggle out of her.
After a quick glance around the room, the idea she had been holding in, as it was supposed to stay a secret present from her to the couple, came back up into her brain. "We could bake something for her."
That caught his attention. Joel didn't hate the idea. He definitely didn't. Your sweet tooth was known to the family, added to your appreciation and love for self-made gifts turned it into the perfect present.
"We?"
Sarah scoffed, "You really think I'd trust you with baking a cake?"
"Hey," he took her statement as an offence, "I'm doing very well in the kitchen." He didn't even believe that himself.
"Pff," she patted his back once again, "Sure, dad. Sure."
"I'm a great cook, alright?" he took it one step further, but his daughter was having none of it, giggling at him while shaking her head,
"You're an okay cook and a terrible baker."
He took the last bite of what was left in the plastic box before moving to put it into the dishwasher. "You can't be serious right now…"
Moments like these were Sarah's favourite. Watching her dad get all rilled up just never failed to make her chuckle. Joel enjoyed it just as much. The happiness radiating off her, with a beautiful and bright smile decorating her face, was a sight he never wanted to lose. "Uncle Tommy's a better baker than you," she quickly added before sliding past him to find the fitting cookbook on the shelf in the living room.
Joel's head shot into her direction, a finger pointing at her before she disappeared, "You take that back!" Her high-pitched giggles filled his ears with love and joy.
-
Sarah's feet were dangling off the counter while she was snacking on some of the sprinkles she wanted to put on the cake, along with taste-testing the pink sugar writing. Her father was preparing the frosting, every now and then checking on the cake in the oven, making sure it wouldn't burn because that was the last thing he needed.
They were sharing a few moments of comfortable silence in the room, whereas the girl's mind was filled with questions, daring to slip out any second as she didn't want to hold them back for much longer.
"So, Y/N's coming over tomorrow?"
Joel nodded with a whisk in the bowl, covered in blue-greenish frosting Sarah had coloured, "Yeah, I'm picking her up from work, and I'd bring her here," he looked up, "If that's okay with you."
"Of course," his daughter chuckled, putting the sprinkles down, freeing her hands so she could place them on the counter. She puckered her lips, thinking carefully about her next question. As much as she thought of a way to introduce the subject, she couldn't think of one, so she just jumped into the cold water.
"Do you wanna marry Y/N?" The words made Joel stop in his tracks, his eyes shot up to meet hers.
He sent her a questioning glance, "W-Where's that coming from?"
She shrugged, "I was just thinking. You know… you've been together for a year… and you seem happy-"
"We are," he assured her.
"And don’t adults think about getting married? When they’re happy."
He stood up straighter to lean onto the counter, crossing his arms, leaving the work on the frosting on the side for a bit. "Aren't you a little too young to be thinking about marriage?"
"For me? Yeah," she scoffed, "Because boys? Disgusting," getting a proud smirk for father as a response, "But I mean for you two… I don't know… I was just wondering."
Joel sighed, getting back to work, "Well… I mean, you ain't wrong, sweetheart. But there's a lot of things you need to do before you get married or even think about proposing."
"Like moving in?"
"Sure," he nodded, "Some couples move in before they get married. It's not the traditional way, but as we know, traditional is boring." She copied his head movements with a grin plastered on her face.
"Then why not ask her?" Sarah tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as soon as she locked eyes with the oldest Miller again.
"What do you mean?"
"Ask her to move in."
Joel chuckled in surprise, the spit in his throat almost making him joke, "You sure have some interesting suggestions today, kiddo. You alright? Do I have to be worried?" His facial expression made her laugh out loud as she nudged him with her foot, making him squirm away jokingly.
"Nooo, dad! I'm just saying," she motioned around with her hands,
"You've been together for a while… and… she's already spending every weekend here and sometimes comes over during the week. She makes sure we eat," Joel nodded along with all of the things his daughter was listing, "She takes care of me and you, she already has some of her stuff in your drawer-"
"How do you know about that?" She grinned sheepishly at him, "I saw it when I went through your stuff…"
The father took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, "Alright… how about we don't do that anymore?" Eyeing the little girl sitting on the counter to his left, but she just shrugged,
"You said we shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."
He sighed. Fuck. She wasn't wrong. "You're right… I did say that." Goddamn, always smarter than any other adult in the room. That was his little Sarah.
"So, are you gonna ask her?"
After tasting the frosting and checking its consistency, he gave the girl the whisk, just like he saw you doing it multiple times before. She accepted it with a bright smile.
Joel enjoyed having conversations like these. Obviously, he understood that she was still a kid, and he would never deny her of her innocent mind and easy-going-with-the-wind mindset, but he also appreciated the slightly more adult talks they could share. That's why he was more than happy to explain it to her.
"It's not as easy as you think it is, kiddo. Y/N still has an apartment. One that she shares. So, we’d have to talk about that first. And there's a lot of document stuff we'd have to get-"
"I asked her," she caught his attention when he came back up to stand up straight from looking at the cake through the oven window.
"What?"
"I asked her if she would like to move in with us. Not like actually, but just, you know, the idea of it."
Now Joel became interested. Of course, the two of you had had the conversation about a shared home before, but every couple had that at some point in their relationship. Hearing what you'd think about the idea now would have maybe changed. Now it was more relevant than ever, apparently.
"And," he looked down at his fingers, "What did she say?"
Sarah smirked, "She said the same thing as you just did. So really a match made in heaven," and rolled her eyes jokingly, "But she also said that she'd really like the idea… if I was okay with it."
"And? Are you- I-I mean, would you?"
"Of course! Are you kidding me?! I love her so much! Probably even more than you-"
"I doubt that."
"I don't," she stated straightforwardly, "And you're happy when you're with her, and you make her happy. What more you could want? AND thanks to her, the weekends aren't so boring anymore."
"What was wrong with the weekends before?" He was slightly taken aback by her comment, unsure if it was meant ironically or not. But then again, he was probably overthinking a lot at that moment.
Sarah smiled, "Don't get me wrong, dad. I loved the weekends with you and uncle Tommy, but having another woman in the house is just…" She shrugged, unsure of how to explain just how comfortable you made her feel. Joel and her were open about a lot of things, but Joel was… well, he was your typical single Texanian-dad, that didn't know what to do in certain female-focused situations - let's just put it like that.
Having conversations from woman to woman was something the father appreciated very much when it came to what you brought along when getting to know his kid. And the girl was happier than ever, being finally able to talk to an older person about certain struggles she might encounter that were still slightly too embarrassing to discuss with her dad.
"It's different, I know. I understand," he smiled at her.
"It's good different though," she nodded, "I really like her."
"And you'd be okay with her living here?" He finally asked. Sarah was the reason for his still-intact heartbeat. The only thing having kept him alive so far. Now you had also joined to share that position, but he was still his blood, and you'd never even try to get in between that.
"More than okay," she exclaimed, "I'd be SO happy to have her here constantly. I'd finally have someone against you."
Joel squinted his eyes at her, "Because Tommy isn't enough already?" Receiving a smug smile in return.
He shook his head with a chuckle when the timer went off, indicating that the cake was finally done. Sarah hopped off the counter to stand back on her two feet when her father leaned down to get the cake out of the oven and placed it on the stove.
"You know," he threw the dishtowel he used to not burn his hand to the side before turning to face the girl, "You might be a bit too smart for a kid your age."
The youngest Miller crossed her arms proudly, holding her chin up high, "Thanks, I got it from my uncle." That just made Joel look at her in surprise, almost making her laugh out loud.
He put on his low dad voice, "You got that from your father, thank you very much."
She dropped her hands, "Whatever," and moved a bit closer to stand right next to him, "So will you ask her tomorrow?"
"Yes," he promised her, "I will ask her tomorrow." To which she started bouncing up and down, her body full of excitement, making Joel chuckle and pull her in for a side hug and gift her a kiss on the top of her head.
She clapped her hands, "Now, let's start decorating."
-
You were running -scratch that - Sprinting through the hospital corridors, desperately trying to find the info point a nurse had told you to go to.
You had never crossed town at the speed you just did. Once the message from the other side of the call registered in your brain, you dropped everything at work, ignored the calls from your boss, just shouted a quick, "Family emergency," and raced to catch the next possible bus.
With a big breath shooting out of your lungs, you came to a halt once you came to sight with the hotspot you were looking for. You braced yourself up with your palm, trying to catch your breath before you spoke up, "Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Joel Miller. He's supposed to be in a check-up room."
The nurse looked up at you, surprised by the sound of urgency in your voice. She was quick to type the name into her system, but it felt like hours for you. Your legs were nervously shaking, barely able to hold you up anymore.
She opened her mouth, making you stare at her, eyes widened, "Room 293, down the hall on the right." You were just about to thank her and continue your race but she continued, "He's just got done with the medical exam, but I'd ask you to please wait outside until a doctor comes and approves of him accepting visitors."
Fuck that. You muttered a quick thanks before your legs took you where she explained the room would be.
If they really thought you'd wait for a fucking doctor to allow you to see your boyfriend you expected to be in the worst possible condition, they were wrong. Very wrong.
Hectically, your eyes scanned each number plate on the side of the doors as you tried to find the right one.
290… 291… 292… 293! A sigh of relief washed over you. You got closer to the door, glancing to the left and right, just to make sure there was no one that could see you walk in before you knocked three times. A quiet, "Yeah?" rang through your ears and you didn't wait for another second to open the door.
Your eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the examining bed. He was alive. At least he looked like it.
"Y/N?"
Out of breath, you tried to speak, "Joel… w-what the fuck?!" He couldn't even open his mouth. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the- what the hell happened to you?!" You got closer to him, your fingers coming up to gently touch his chin, turning his head to look at the small scraps next to his eyes. You noticed the bandage on his forehead, guessing he must've gotten stitches there, only making you sigh again.
Joel got a hold of your hands, holding them close to his chest as he tried to calm you down, "Sweetheart… I'm okay," he brushed some wild hairs that were covering your face, to the side, "I'm alright."
"No," you shook your head, already feeling your throat close up, "Look at you."
"This is nothing, I promise."
While his right hand held onto yours tightly, the palm of his left one ran up and down your lower arm. You shrugged out of his grasp to hide your face behind your hands as soon as you could feel the first tears rolling down your cheeks. Your fingers pressed into your eyes.
"You scared the shit of out me," your voice was not much more than a whisper, but the room was quiet, so Joel was able to hear you clearly. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up in front of you to engulf you in a warm hug when he noticed your brittle voice and your whole body shaking.
His low voice tried to calm down your soft cries as he pressed your head into his chest, ignoring the slight pain in his ribs, remembering the big bruise that was forming there. "I'm sorry, darlin'," he whispered, "I'm sorry. But I'm okay. I promise." He moved his hands from brushing over your back to cupping your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your skin, wiping away the wet stains your tears left. "I'm alive," he grinned at you, but you just shook your head.
"You're a fucking idiot, Miller," pushing a finger into his chest, getting a subtle groan out of him, making you flinch back immediately, "What?" Your eyes hastily ran over his body, "You're hurt there too."
You tried to push his shirt up, but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours, "No no, don't worry. Just hurts a little."
You couldn't help but to sigh again. That man was going to be the death of you. With a few steps back, you distanced yourself from him, sitting down in one of the chairs by the desk across from the bed. Carefully, Joel sat back on top of the bed. Your eyes scanned his form as you noticed the hiss he was trying to hold back, his lips pressed together tightly.
You shook your head and closed your eyes, lowering your head.
"Did Tommy call you?"
You scoffed, "Obviously."
"Did you call Sarah?" To which you motioned a 'no' to him.
"You don't need two women in your life to have a heart attack," you explained, "And I didn't know what to tell her. Tommy just said there was an accident on the construction site, and you're in the hospital. I didn't even let him finish. I sprinted out of the office." Your story made him chuckle, but he noticed your still anxious and tense body.
"He brought me here just to make sure everything was alright. I wasn't hurt badly. No one was."
You looked up to meet his eye, "Joel, you got stitches!"
He shrugged, "Not the first time, not the last time."
"Why would you say that?!" You stared at him unamused, your mouth open. Taking a deep breath in, your hand brushed through your hair while you let your eyes travel around the room. You hated hospitals. You had yet to have a positive experience in one of these buildings. The silence that overcame the room was choking. But you weren't in the mood to say anything else, nor did you know what to even say, and Joel could read you like the back of his hand. He knew he scared you. He hated it, so he was the first to break the stillness.
"Happy Anniversary."
You raised your head, finding him grinning at you shyly, making you shake your head, "Don't. This isn't funny." He nodded, understanding what was going on in your head. Another moment of silence filled the room.
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the way you expected to spend our anniver-"
"I couldn't care less about the anniversary, Joel!" You exclaimed in frustration, "I- I thought you were-," you stopped before you could get choked up again, not even wanting to dare to say out loud what was going on in your head when you answered Tommy's phone call. "God knows what could've happened to you!"
"Come 'ere," he nodded you over, but you shook your head,
"Joel-" you were stopped by the motion of his hand for you to come closer. The man was already hurt, you didn't have to add to that. With a sigh, you stood up, leaving your bag on the chair next to you, before walking up to him again. The oldest Miller leaned forward to grasp your hand and pulled you closer, even getting a soft smile out of you.
His hand rested on your hips as you stood between his legs while you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, darlin'. I promise I'll be more careful."
"You better," your finger slid through his hair as you noticed the look in his eyes while he was staring at you. His right hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally do what he had been wanting to do all day. His lips moved against yours as you could feel him smirking before he pulled back slightly.
"I'll make it up to you tonight." You looked into his eyes in confusion, but only for a second before you moved your head back with a gasp.
"Joel!" You smacked his shoulders gently, "You're sitting on fucking a hospital bed, how could you think about sex right now?" He just continued grinning, his hands moving all over your body, keeping his eyes on yours, "How could I not with you in front of me."
A chuckle escaped from your lips followed by a shake of your head, "You're unbelievable." You got pulled closer again, his lips smashing against yours.
"Unbelievably in love with you." Earning himself a giggle and a quick peck from you.
Your fingers softly grazed the skin of his cheek, careful not to touch any of his injuries as you smiled, "Happy Anniversary, Joel." He couldn't help but to copy your facial expression, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.
-
You drove the two of you home after the oldest Miller had gotten released from the hospital, and Tommy had already made his way back to his place. Joel was definitely moving slightly more carefully, but he assured you he was a-okay - you didn't fully believe it, but it wasn't worth a discussion.
After parking the car in the garage, you made your way into the house through the backdoor. Joel opened it for you to walk in first, just like he always did. You gave him a quick, "thank you," and stepped in before you stopped in your tracks, a high-pitched voice surprising you with a loud,
"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"
"Oh, Jesus!" Your hand flew up to your chest, your breathing quickening as you took in the scene in front of you. Sarah was beaming at you with her bright smile, a pink poster with big letters staring directly at you.
You started laughing, "God, you scared me, kid."
Joel stopped behind you, laughing at the sight. She ignored your exclaim, running up to wrap her arms around your torso, making you do the same around her shoulders. You pulled her in, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You really are just the cutest," pulling back to look at her, petting her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie."
She gave you another quick grin before moving on to her father, doing the same to congratulate him, when she noticed the cuts on his face.
"What happened to you?"
Joel shrugged, a hand brushing over her hair, "Just a little accident at work. Nothing to worry about."
You moved further into the house, placing your bag on one of the dining chairs. Your eyes took in the room, holding your gaze once again on the poster Sarah had clearly self-made. She had placed it on top of the table before she had rushed over to the two of you, so you were able to run your fingers over the little stones and glitter patches she had glued on. You remembered the sign you had gotten from her only a month ago.
"You outdid yourself this time, Sarah," you turned to her when you noticed she had come to stand next to you, "It's so cute."
"Thanks," she radiated her happiness on you. "And look!" She skipped into the kitchen, making your gaze follow her when she pointed to the counter when you saw what got her so excited.
You started giggling. On the countertop sat a turquoise-coloured cake, with white frosting details on the side on pink hearts decorating the top of it.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, "Awww, did you do that yourself?"
She shrugged with a smile, "Dad helped me." To which Joel got closer to you two, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,
"I thought you helped me." His arm snaked around your waist.
"Well," she answered him, "You thought wrong," sending him a sheepish grin that made you chuckle.
You opened your arms to get her into another hug, tightening your arms around her just a little tighter than before, "Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, sweetie. I love it." Your eyes may have gotten a little glassy, but you were able to hold it back, not wanting to surprise them with a gush of happiness.
Joel next to you cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of the room. You released Sarah from your grasped and wrapped your arms around your partner's waist. "And thank you to you too, of course," smiling up at him as he looked down. You puckered your lips, making him smirk and lower his head to meet your mouth, giving you a quick peck.
Sarah interrupted your small moment of love when she called out, "Okay, let's eat!"
All three of you followed her orders and sat down around the dining table after grabbing plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. While your eyes were on Joel, who was giving each one of you a good slice, you also noticed the little girl next in the middle of the two of you, happily clapping drumming her hands on the surface, that smile of hers never leaving her face.
It was in moments like these when you truly thought to yourself what you could have possibly done in your past life to deserve people like them in your life. A boyfriend that would carry you to the ends of the world, in whose arms you felt safer than anywhere else, along with a wonderful daughter that looked at you as if you were the reason for the stars lighting up the sky.
You enjoyed the sweet dinner, easily falling into a comfortable conversation like you usually would. Sarah told you about her good day at school, bragging about the grade she had gotten on her chemistry exam, earning her a round of applause from you and a kiss on her cheek from her father. Joel and you talked about your workdays, leaving out the time you had spent in the hospital. He was fine, that's all you cared about.
After the meal, you brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, Joel placed the cake back into the fridge, and Sarah was put in charge of choosing a movie to let the evening come to an end.
Her choice fell on Jurassic Park, knowing how much the oldest in the house loved the movie, and after getting a nod of approval from you, she put it into the DVD player, telling you to hurry up and join her on the couch.
Joel and you sat down on either side of her before the girl made herself comfortable and laid her head on your lap while resting her legs on her father's. Automatically, your hands found their way to her head, brushing through her unruly hair you always complimented.
This position allowed Joel to come just a little bit closer, lifting his daughter's legs to slide over to you, pulling your head to lean on his shoulder and copying your actions to start patting your head as well. Not even forty minutes later, the soft snores and even breaths from the little girl accompanied the sounds coming from the TV. You looked down with a chuckle.
"What?" Joel wondered, "Did she fall asleep?"
"Yeah," you smiled, eyeing him suspiciously once he stood up with a groan,
"Finally." He crouched down slightly, moving one arm underneath Sarah's knees, while his other one steadied her neck. He straightened his back and pointed a finger at you, "You stay here. I still have something to make up to you."
Getting a giggle out of you, "Joel!"
"I mean it!" He shout-whispered at you before disappearing upstairs.
You brought your knees up, hugging them to your body when you remembered the little gift that was still hidden in your bag. With a soft huff, you pushed yourself off the sofa and walked over to the dining room the snatch your bag off the chair.
"Darlin', where- oh, there you are," Joel found you with your back turned towards him, rummaging through your back when he crept up on you and placed his hands on your hips once he got close enough. His lips immediately latched onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, making you giggle.
"Stooop," you laughed, leaning back into his chest.
"What are you doing?" He wondered as you turned around, your hands hidden behind your back.
You grinned up at him, "I've got something for you."
"You do?" His eyebrows shot up, "Why? Having you here is already enough," he didn't even wait for a response from you, just saw you rolling your eyes, making him chuckle as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.
You were first to retrieve back, receiving a low whine from him in return, to which you shook your head with a smile. "May I give you your gift now?"
Joel stood up straighter and put his hands out, palm up, in front of you, closing his eyes along the process. Without wasting another second, you placed the little box into his grasp. He opened his eyes again, looking suspiciously at the packaging, shaking it slightly,
"What is it?"
"You really expect me to tell you instead of just opening it?"
He smiled, "Alright, alright."
You could hardly contain your excitement as he ripped the paper off the box, throwing it onto the table behind you. As soon as Joel opened it, his eyes shot up to find you grinning right at him.
"Darlin'…"
"Sarah told me you've been looking for one," you explained, "But she also said that you never take the time to go downtown and look for one. So, I thought, I'd just save you the stress."
His fingers ran across the rounded edges of the watch in the box. It looked expensive, that's for sure.
"You didn't have to do that, sweetheart," he spoke quietly, still in awe of the present worth so much more than just money in his hands.
You shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."
Joel took it out of its packaging, putting that to the side as well before wrapping it around his wrist. Your fingers came to help, closing the little buckle so it fit him perfectly.
He couldn't take his eyes off the watch, "Thank you, darlin'," but you were a much better sight to him, "I love it," so he pulled you in again, "I ain't never taking that off ever again."
Your hands found their usual place on the back of his neck again as you kissed him back, whispering against his lips, "I'm glad you like it. Happy anniversary."
"Happy anniversary," he mumbled back, giving you a peck before sliding out of your embrace, "Well, I guess it's time for me to give you your present now?"
"Joel," you whined, "I told you, I don't-"
His hand stopped you before he exited the kitchen and came back only seconds later, his hand in a tight fist. You waited patiently for him to open his mouth again, even though you were anything but that.
He stopped in front of you, raised his arm and let what he was holding drop down while holding onto what looked like a key ring.
"What is it?" You reached out to grab it, laying it flat against your palm to analyse it. A key. Attached to a pendant representing three figures, a figure that was supposed to be a man, next to a woman, who then again stood next to the same figure just in small.
"The key to my heart?" He jokingly answered, making it sound more like a question, making you look up.
"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes. Always the romantic…
Joel took a deep breath before clearing his throat, "I mean… I guess it kinda is, but ehm… it's a housekey." You had to tear your eyes away from the object in your hands once again once your brain registered what he had just said.
"What?"
"So," he started explaining, his hands immediately on your hips again, "I was racking my brain over what I could give you today. But I just couldn't think of anything. Because honestly… I didn't think there was anything in this world that I could buy you, that would show you just how much you mean to me."
"Don't make me cry," you quickly intervened, making him chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek,
"I'll try," and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yesterday Sarah, the way too smart for her own good kid, that she is," the description made you smile, "got the idea of baking something for you because she said you value that a lot more than bought stuff." He had to take another deep breath before continuing, "And then while we were preparing the cake… you know her, she started asking all those questions until we landed on the whole moving-in thing." Throughout the whole speech, you listened attentively to your partner, keeping your eyes on him the entire time even while his drifted around the room. "Since you already spent the weekends with us and are here every now and then during the week, she asked me why you're not living with us yet."
"And your answer was?" A smug smile made its way onto your lips.
"Do you want the truth or what I told her?"
"The truth, please."
Joel's eyes followed his hands as they ran up and down your sides, "That her dad hasn't had the balls yet to ask his girlfriend." You shyly looked down back to your hands. At the little charm.
He noticed where your attention was and pointed at it, "Sarah picked that up today after school." Of course, she did… You could feel the tears coming back up. God, that girl was just too pure for the world…
"So?" His voice made you meet his eyes again, "What do you say? Can you handle three Millers under one roof?"
You pretended to think, playing with the lips he so desperately wanted to feel on his again, "It won't be easy."
He grinned, "That's not a no." You dropped the key onto the table behind you before your hands went back around his neck, pulling him in close enough for your lips to almost touch. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten.
The corners of your lips curled up, "That's because it's a yes," pecking his lips, "I'll take good care of you."
His left hand travelled to your lower back, "And we'll take good care of you too," he repeated giving you multiple little kisses, making you laugh. Oh, God how much he loved that sound. And now he would be able to hear that every single day. "Now, how about I stick true to that promise I made earlier?"
You nodded, breathing against each other's mouths, "Yeah, please do." And he didn't need to be told twice.
With one swift move, you were put onto the table, before he situated himself between your legs. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible. You moved yourself slightly forward, letting a moan escape from your lips when you felt his tongue glide across your bottom lip.
Opening your mouth wider, gave him the opportunity to slip in, earning a deep groan from the man in front of you. Your fingers started playing with the hem of his shirt, signalling for him to pull back and pull it up as you helped him along with it, dragging him onto you the moment it came off - eyes immediately on the dark bruise forming on his ribs.
"Joel…," you gasped, reaching out to touch the dark spot, but he got a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips,
"It's nothin', darlin', don't worry about it." You could worry about the truth in his statement tomorrow, for now, you wanted to get him back on you, so you smashed your lips back onto his.
He chuckled, "Someone's eager," he started trailing kisses down your neck.
"Well, someone made me think about this for hours," you grabbed his face to bring him back up to you. You could never get enough of the touch of his lips. You would drown in it if you could. You wouldn't even care if you couldn't breathe anymore, it would be a happy death.
"And that someone is gonna make sure you won't be able to think at all for the next few hours," he whispered as his right hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb tracing over your bra.
You couldn't help the shake in your voice, "Hours? I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Miller." Knowing damn well that he wasn't. You had the privilege of getting the house to yourself every now and then or having had some alone time in your apartment. If he wanted to, he could go on for hours and hours. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy rilling him up just a little bit.
He scoffed, pulling your shirt over your head easily, "Sure, keep saying that. Keep talking while can." He knew what he was doing to you with those words.
His hands roamed your almost naked torso, cupping your still-covered breasts into his big hands, making you moan into his mouth.
You could feel that gentle touch of his on your body before it stopped on your ass, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, "Come 'ere. Let's go upstairs."
You were held up tightly against him as he carried you up into the first floor, taking a sharp left to get you both into his, well now your, bedroom. Your bedroom. From now on, this was the room you'd be sharing with your partner. God, what a good time to be alive…
Once you had reached the bed, Joel slouched over, making sure to place you onto the mattress gently.
There were two sides to Joel Miller when it came to sex. You were very familiar with both. There was the soft side you adored so much. When he took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, working you up just right, adoring your body and covering it with pure passion. His thrust would be slow and deep, gentle, yet just filled with the same amount of lust as his other side. The alter ego, as you'd like to think of it was fast-paced, hard, yet never too short, sex. Still very passionate, but loud and messy. Bruises weren't a rarety after a night like that. And while that was what you understood when thinking of sex, you adored love-making just a little bit more when the time was right. Just like at that moment.
His kisses moved from your neck, down between your breasts, along the middle of your torso, holding onto it tightly, until he reached the rim of your jeans. His fingers got to work on your button, opening it along with the zipper, before getting up slightly to free your legs from them, sliding them down as he started kneeling on the floor. Down at your ankles, he pulled them off completely, getting rid of your socks as well before starting his journey of kisses back up again.
You squirmed more and more the higher he came up, making him have to move his hands to your hips to hold you down and pull you closer to the end of the bed to reach your inner thighs.
"Ah, fuck baby…," he moaned in between kisses, "So. Fucking. Beautiful."
You were brushing some hair out of your face, heavy breaths leaving your lips. You didn't even dare to look down, knowing you'd probably only get closer to coming right then and there with the sight. "Joel, please…" you whined.
"I know, I know, darlin'," he continued admiring your thighs with his lips before hooking his fingers into the side pieces of your underwear. He noticed which ones you were wearing.
"You know," he gave them a kiss too, right onto your pelvic bone,
"These are my favourite."
You chuckled, "Of course, I know. Why do you think I put them on?"
"Well, but then it wouldn't be right of me to just take them off right away, now would it?" He smirked letting go of the fabric and prepping your legs up on the mattress. His lips moved down to the centre of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss right where you wanted him, sending a shiver through your entire body along with a shaky breath tumbling from your lips.
Once again, his finger hooked underneath the fabric of your underwear, only this time, pulling the centre piece to the side, giving him a clear view of your sex, clearly glistening even in the dim light coming from the moon outside.
He didn't let another moment pass before he covered your slit in little kisses, his hands having a tighter grip on you once you started moving again. You were still enjoying the soft feather touches of his lips on yours when you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue running over your clit, getting a low moan out of you. You had to remember there was still a little girl in the room across from you - too much noise would eventually wake her up and you were not ready to have that kind of confrontation with her yet.
"Ah… Joel…" you breathed out, your fingers tangling around his hair, pulling slightly once you felt his tongue movements quicken and deepen.
He slipped around your clit, running it down to your hole before drawing circles around there as well. As soon as he was up again, gently sucking on your clit, you could already feel the arousal dripping out of you, making you shudder and hold onto his hair just a little tighter. He switched between focusing on your bundle of nerves and gathering every drip coming out of you with his tongue.
"Fuck," you couldn't help the whine erupting from you. You had to be quiet, not silent. Especially not when you knew what your sounds could do to Joel. You were confirmed of your thoughts when you heard the buckle of the belt on his jeans opening, followed by his zipper. Joel had to free his hands from holding onto you to get his jeans off his legs, dragging his boxers along with them to free his erect dick. But his tongue never left your heat - he was a God of multitasking and had proved that many times before.
Once you felt his right hand being placed on top of your abdomen and heard a deep groan coming from him, you knew he had started grasping his cock in his free hand. The thought of your partner jerking off to eating you out and the little breaths coming from you only added to the sensation that had been building up between your legs.
"Joel," you whimpered, "Don't-fuck, don't stop," begging him to keep going. His answer was another strong suck on your clit, and a lick of his tongue as he slid into you. The hand that had been holding you down was moving lower, still keeping you from moving too much, while his thumb had found its way to your clit, making sure to stimulate it, while his tongue was working inside of you.
"Oh, God, yeah…" you breathed out, uncontrollably starting to move your hips as well to get closer to the edge. Your moans came out higher-pitched as you pressed your lips together tighter, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while your partner was doing the Lord's work on you.
"Fuck- Joel, I'm gonna cum," you whined out, "I-"
"You can do it, baby," he encouraged you, letting go of his erection, to replace his tongue with two of his fingers, and going back to kissing your clit passionately while his right hand interlaced with yours.
"Come for me," he breathed against you.
You nodded, moaning slightly louder as the grip on his hand tightened, your hips moving around more. The tension kept building up, encouraging you to keep going as he moved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds echoing through the room.
"Come on, darlin'." His whisper made your body shake.
And after the last small whiny, "yeah…" slipped from your lips, you fell apart beneath him, tightening around his fingers, humming uncontrollably, and trying to hold in the moans and groans you could've let out.
Joel didn't stop though. He never does. He only removed his fingers to start cleaning you up with his tongue, not letting you recover from the orgasm that had washed over you.
You tried catching your breath, releasing his hand from your tight grasp, as you moved both your hands back to his hair, begging him to come up and hover over you, "Joel," you whispered, chest still heaving heavily.
With a smile, he came back up to face you after finally taking your underwear off completely, his arms resting on either side of you, peppering your face with kisses before stopping at your mouth. You could taste the remains of yourself on his tongue as he pushed it past your lips to slide over yours.
"I love you," he spoke quietly against your mouth, moving down to your jaw, making you smile as you pulled him to look you straight in the eyes, "I love you too," kissing him with just as much passion as before.
His right arm moved underneath your arched back, towing you into him as he sat you up on your knees. His fingers quickly opened the back of your bra, sliding it down your arms, following its trail to mark it with kisses. Once were boobs were free in front of you, he leaned down, getting to work on them as he decorated them with his lips. You threw your head back in relief, giving him easier access, sighing his name out loud.
When he wanted to feel your mouth on his again, he positioned his hand on your tits, engulfing them in the warmth of his palms.
"You're always so good to me." Now it was your time to move your lips down his throat, getting a soft moan out of him, while his fingers came to play with your nipples.
"How could I not," he got a hold of your chin, moving it gently so you'd be facing him again, "You deserve it," going back to stealing your breath and devouring your lips.
Joel sat down properly on the bed, giving you the opportunity, to take a seat on his lap. You let your hand travel down your body, between your legs to smear some of your wetness onto your palm before you moved onto him, covering his fully erect cock. He held himself up with his hands on the mattress, tilting his head back, letting the pleasure wash over him as a groan fell from his lips.
You pumped your hand up and down four times before you were ready to lower your head, but a soft grip on the back of your hair stopped you, gently pulling you back up, "No no, darlin', come on," Joel patted his lap, "Sit down." He had always been more of a giver than a receiver. Not that the hated blowjobs, how could he with your mouth, but he enjoyed giving a lot more than receiving.
You listened to his demand and scootched up onto his lap, not letting go of his erection in your hand as you lined it up with your sex before slowly sinking down on it, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as soon as he grabbed you by your hips.
A soft but long whine vibrated in your throat as he started to fill you up, stretching you with his size. Your fingers started digging into his shoulders, making him hiss with a chuckle. His strong arms kept you as close as possible to him, waiting for you to set the pace and start moving.
You let your forehead fall against his once he was fully inside, and you started rotating your hip right away. Moving them back and forth to create some friction as both of you shared a round of low moans, kissing to prevent them from getting too loud. He moved his hips along with yours after getting to know the speed you were working with, making you sigh out loud. "Oh… fuck…"
Joel's hand came up to brush some of the hairs that stuck to your forehead, away, giving your cheeks a few pecks.
"You know, you get more beautiful each day," directing them down to your throat and the side of your neck.
You chuckled, "You're one to talk, dilf hot-shot." Your comment made the two of you giggle in chorus as you remembered him of the nickname he had earned himself at the last parent-teacher conference, which you found out, thanks to his daughter, who wondered what it meant.
He rolled his eyes,
"Oh please," he jerked his hips up to tease you, almost making you screech if it wasn't for you hiding your face in his neck. "I'll always find you beautiful, sweetheart, no matter the age."
His hand on your hair pulled you back gently to look at him again,
"Likewise, handsome," you smiled at him, gifting him with a kiss before your hands on his chest pushed him down, while you kept yourself up on your knees. As Joel lowered his body, following your directions, you felt his erection tipping with him, nudging the rough spot inside of you, getting a shaky moan from you in return.
Once he was comfortable, you braced yourself with your arms on the sides of his head to hover above him, continuing your make-out session. You felt his hands going down your body, finding their new place on your ass as he held on to it, keeping you still, while started to move his upwards. Having to pull back from the kiss, you released a soft sigh before starting to move against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.
His grip tightened with his lips on you again, "Fuck, baby," he hissed, slightly picking up the pace. "Ya' gonna' be fuckin' death of me." You loved whenever his deep Texanian accent made an appearance during sex. It just told you, you were doing everything right.
With one last kiss, you pushed yourself up to fully sit on his cock again. He pushed his knees up slightly to give you a makeshift backrest once you started moving your hips faster. His fingers quickly interlaced with yours, giving you something to hold onto as you yanked them closer to you.
"Joel…" you dragged out his name in a hush, getting a groan from him in response.
"You're doing so good sweetheart, keep doing," he encouraged you.
You sat up straight, "Put your legs down," giving him the directions you needed for your next position, sounding almost out of breath. He did as you asked, giving you the room to lean back and hold onto his thighs, opening up your body as a sight to him.
"So good, baby," he moaned out loud as he put his hand to your pussy, after wetting his fingers with his spit, circling them around your clit, making you shake.
"Fuck," you cursed out, sighing along with it as you started moving your hips faster, now with the encouragement of Joel's touch on your sex.
His groans felt your ear, letting you know he wasn't far from his release, just as much as you. You kept moving, bouncing up and down on his erection that kept brushing your walls, letting you feel every vein on his cock.
"Joel, I'm so close," you moaned, which was all he needed to know before he freed his hands from yours, only to bring them back to your ass, lifting you up to change his position. You kept yourself up, taking a few deep breaths, trying to steady your breathing with the small rest you got.
He sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around you again to lower you back onto the mattress, this time with your head against the comfort of your pillows.
Joel stayed in this position, making sure to keep you as still as possible in the tight hug, as he started snapping his hips against yours. His cock slid easily in and out of you, the wet sounds ringing through your ears as you felt his balls slapping against your ass.
You lifted your arms, your fingers desperately trying to find the headboard to hold onto as you tried to contain yourself from the noise you wanted to make. All you could let out were high-pitched whimpers and gentle moans when you could've easily screamed into his ears with the pleasure that was rushing through your body.
You could feel Joel's fingers digging into your skin, his groans only getting deeper as he attacked your neck, hoping to keep it as quietly as possible. The second orgasm was approaching you rapidly and you wanted to open your mouth to let him know, but all you could make out was,
"I- Jo-" as he kept on hitting just the sight spots inside of you.
He nodded, "I know, baby," breathing heavily against you, "Ya gonna come with me?" Making you nod hastily, "Yeah?" To which you nodded again, a whimper tumbling from your lips.
Your feet started digging into the mattress as the pressure leading you to your release was getting intensely more.
"I-I'm gonna c- fuck, I'm gonna cum," you managed to get out. Joel kept his lips on your neck, gifting you more encouraging words.
"Yeah baby, come with me," was the last thing you needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto yours just at the right time before you could scream your orgasm out into the world. Your fingers tightened around the wood of the headboard as you felt him shoot his cum into you. His groan against your mouth sent vibrations through your body, which was already shaking from the aftermath of your release.
As soon as he pulled back, the two of you shared your heavy breaths, sweaty foreheads pressed against each other, a smile of pleasure decorating both of your faces.
Joel started peppering your face with kisses again, making you chuckle as you still tried to catch your breath, just as well as he still was doing.
"I love you, darlin'," he whispered against your skin as you brought your fingers back to his hair, brushing them to make him look at you.
After placing a loving kiss against his lips, you breathed out, "I love you, babe. I love you a lot."
"A lot?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.
You nodded with a smile, "A lot."
With a deep kiss that let you know just what you needed to know, he was back gazing into your eyes, freeing your face from all the small hairs that had made their way to your sweaty forehead, "Well then, I love you a lot too." But you couldn't let him go yet, yanking him towards you for one last, passion-filled kiss, moaning into his mouth as he smirked.
Joel pushed himself back up, slowly sliding his erection out of you, making you shiver, and him chuckle before he walked over to the basket of clean clothes he had yet to put away.
He searched for the clean cloth he remembered throwing in, and once he had found it, he brought it back to bed with him. He was back to hovering above you, continuing your innocent make-out session while he started cleaning up the mix of his and your cum that was dripping out of you. With every swipe, you buckled your hips up uncontrollably, just enjoying the pleasure washing over your body.
After he got done with that, he threw the cloth into the basket for dirty clothing before starting to look for his boxers, standing up on his two feet to pull them up his legs. You crawled over to the edge of the bed, bending down to gather your underwear before looking up at Joel who was standing closer to the clean clothing than you were.
"Can you give me a shirt, please?" Already knowing that you were asking for one of his, he snatched a dark green one and passed it over to you, who had gotten up from the bed, legs still shaky, but you could make it work.
Once you had thrown that over your body, you felt the familiar strong arms wrap around you again, and Joel lowered his head to get another few kisses from you.
"Happy anniversary," he whispered once again.
You smiled against his lips, "Oh, it is a very happy anniversary, babe." When there didn't seem to be a stop to the make-out session he had initiated, you tried to push him away, but he wasn't budging.
"J-Joel," you giggled, "I need to go."
"Where?" He immediately pulled his head back, gazing at you in surprise, but you quickly calmed him with a soft hand on his chest,
"Downstairs to get our clothes. I don't need to traumatise your daughter on the first day of moving in," you freed yourself from his hug, "And then I have to take a shower."
As you passed him, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to get a hold of your ass, squeezing it, getting a screech from you in response. You were quick to turn around and hit him on the upper arm, making him flinch away with a smirk.
"Joel!" You hissed at him, motioning for him to be quiet.
He raised his arms, "You're the one being so loud," earning himself a death glare from you, but it only made his grin wider.
His eyes followed your form as you left the room before he let himself drop down onto the bed. He ran a hand over his face, not even caring to hide the smile that just didn't seem to go away.
You were officially moved in. From today on, he'd wake up next to you every single day. Sarah and he would have you by their side every afternoon after work. He'd be able to pick you up and bring you both home. Together. He knew now the pressure of the next step in your relationship would be approaching quicker, but he decided to put that thought aside and focus on the present - and on your footsteps that were coming back up.
Joel laughed to himself as he got back up, on his way to join you in the bathroom for round two - after all, he had promised you hours.
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joel taglist: @corvusmorte
pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask
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tomorrcwz · 3 months
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˗ ˏ ˋ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓
Pairings : Logan Sargeant x reader (platonic)
in which Logan and you have a day off work in London and decide to go to build a bear, creating each a stuffy for the other as you did as children.
— only friend i need series
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"Come on Logs, live a little", you said, pressing the blonde to agree to your spontaneous idea of the day. "it's a fantastic idea, I always have those, and i still can't believe you've lived here for what? Two years now? and still didn't do it. shame, mate."
Said man, who sat opposite of you, took another bite of his somewhat healthy breakfast choice his trainer would've had a wet dream about, all while starring in disbelief at you, the one who's bright smile focused on the plate of waffles, covered in strawberries and cream.
He shallowed, opening his mouth to disagree with the idea but nothing came to his mind, letting you grin in excitement. "I— well, fine, but don't you think we're a bit too old for build a bear, y/n?"
"Buh, since when do we do age appropriate stuff?", you questioned, thinking back about the many times you rode rollercoasters for children, watched movies in the cinema for zero to six years old and did other things people considered then to be made for children. "it's cute, saw a tiktok about it."
"You and your tiktok obsession — when did you even watch it? We were out all day yesterday."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you that old, sargeant? You were in the gym after we had lunch at mine."
"Yeah true", the man sheepishly agreed, remembering the cardio and weight session, before his blue eyes brightened, signaling you that he had an idea — for the better or worse, you never knew with him.
"Please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"
Logan's smile widened, pupils blooming. "How about I build you a stuffy and you for me like we did when we were younger?"
"Yes please, that has to the best idea you've had in a while, Logs", you giggled. "Let's eat and then we'll make our way there, its in that mall not so far away from here."
With that, you both ate in silence, listing to the gossip around you — an older woman complained to her son about back pain, a couple fought about having another baby (the woman didn't want another one while the man was adapt on growing the family) and a man in his forties tried to flirt with the waiter —, Logan and you sent each other looks and quirked eyebrows, whenever the topic grew hotter and juicier.
As you shallowed the last bite of your delicious breakfast, Logan already waved the waiter over to pay for today's expenses — since both of you worked, you took turns with the payment, even though the racer tried to take the check whenever you were eating in a somewhat bougier place, saying that he made more and wanted to be a gentleman which would get him a snort out of you or a slap on the arm. not that it hurt him, you liked to think the hits had to be gently because of his worth for Williams.
After the blonde had paid, he impatiently stood up, holding out his hand for helping you to stand up. "Let's go, y/n, we don't have all day."
You let go off his hand, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Don't know why I keep up with you, you're acting like a kid in a hardware store. i'm praying for Alex and his patience."
"Hey, I'm not that bad", your friend shrieked, pulling your head into am armlock to rub your hair which he knew you didn't enjoy at all — you weren't a pet, you'd tell him.
"You're a shithead, have I ever said that to you?", you grumbled as you freed yourself from his strong grasp.
"And you're what? a Saint?", a snort escaped the man's throat, pushing you lightly forward to continue your way to the destination. "cause I don't think so, you're as bad as me, that's why we're friends."
Once again you grumbled under your breath but decided to just walk, letting Logan rant about his trip to New York with Williams and the training camp that was held in Miami.
When you arrived at the mall, you've heard all about his recent work experience, Alex's stories about his holidays and a new recipe Logan's mom came up (it didn't sound but why was she adapt to add pumpkin to the dish?).
"Look logs, there it is", you pointed out, gaze hazy with childish excitement. You intertwined your hand with his, dragging him inside the colourful store to the yet lifeless bodies of stuffies — there was the classic Teddy in a few shades of brown, forest and savanna animals as well as movie characters like yoda, stich and hedwig, Harry Potter's beloved owl.
you truly were in paradise. "Oh look, it's an eagle, that's so American, so you", a booming laughter fell from your lips, winning the attention of a mother daughter duo next to you, causing you to blush and Logan to pinch your side.
alas, your friend had enough of you, so therefore he left your side to explore the many options the shop had in stock. You didn't see his pick as your only matter was to fulfil the task of finding the right stuffy for logan and putting it in clothing.
In the end you decided on a cute black alpaca and put it in a white cargo trousers combined with a multicoloured party shirt and some blue jeans jacket, letting yourself be inspired by the clothing styles of Logan and George Russell's invention of white pants and a williams team shirt as a williams driver's standard uniform — you'd switch up the party shirt as soon as you'll get a hang out of sewing to make a mini williams shirt but for now the alpaca was going to own the shirt as did logan in the summer when you both went out for a wild night back home.
As you put the heart and the small voice box thingy in the stuffy, a small happy tear rolled down your cheek; you chose to say two things: the first one was the viral meme of him being American, silently screaming rwahh what the fuck is a kilometre and the second was a sweet message to cheer him up, hopefully, whenever he felt bad and you'd be out of his reach — a small fracture of yourself, reminding him of his greatness and uniqueness, and that he was loved and cheered. You were a sentimental being, no shame whatsoever, even though your friend sometimes liked to tease you about it, causing you to clap back — it was just that kind of friendship where you could let lose, be yourself without further worries nor feeling embarrassed or awkward.
When Logan finally got to you — you had waited for him outside of the mall, leaning on the car as you had texted him, and bought two cups of coffee at the small café on the opposite side of the build a bear shop— you gave him the box, containing the alpaca, wearing a silly expression on your face, which Logan mirrored.
"Let's see, if you still know me after seeing the whole wide world without me", you joked, silly smile morphing in a naughty grin on your lips.
"As if I could forget you, stinks."
"Maybe I should return it, you don't deserve it—"
"Hey, I don't do anything wrong", he exclaimed, making grabby hands to get the stuffy.
"Mister Sargeant, you are a liar and a very bad one at that", you tsked him. "Haven't we already said that we refer to call me stinks? the name should be buried six foot deep next to—"
"Don't you dare, y/n."
"I definitely should tweet the nickname, your colleagues would eat it up, don't you think so?", you giggled gleefully, remembering how you called him as you were two young children, running around the neighbourhood to terrorise them.
"And that's why I don't take you with me", he mumbled under his breath, holding out his hand where the stuffy box hang off. "Here we go, silly, hope you like it."
Slowly, you opened the box and the sight of your favourite animal greeted you, wearing the cutest hogwarts robes of your house. "Aw Logs, it's so pretty and fluffy. I love it." Gently you pressed you face against the small head of the stuff toy, enjoying the cozy texture of it and closed your eyes, salivating the moment.
After a moment, the blonde man enclosed you in a hug. "the alpaca's lovely, y/n/n. Best idea we had in a while."
"yeah true", you agreed, returning the hug.
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lowkeycasanova · 7 months
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the fans love you
i feel like we all know that a lot of vinnie's fans send/spread hate whenever he's simply seen with a girl, but i decided to write this headcanon in which it's the opposite. where the fans absolutely love you
masterlist
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At first he didn’t know how to approach the situation. You know, finally telling everyone he has a girlfriend. He was also nervous about the reactions. Not that he gave a fuck about what people were to say about him, it was you he was worried about.
And how would he do it? Would he make a tik tok? Would he post a selfie with you on his Instagram story and let people put two and two together?
You told him you didn’t care about what other people thought. Well, maybe deep down you cared a little. Who wouldn’t? But at the end of the day, you couldn’t control what other people said about you and their jealousy.
Vinnie didn’t know the photo had been taken until Jett sent it to him. It was a picture of Vinnie sitting on the couch, you in his lap, kissing each other with your hands caressing his face and his hands wrapped around your waist. Whoever took it was at a distance and zoomed in to take it. It was a chill night at the house. You thought you were alone. Guess not.
Vinnie said, “fuck it”, and posted the picture on Instagram. It was the third picture out of six for his camera roll dump. And tagged you.
You braced yourself for the comments/notifications. Vinnie was giddy with excitement as he knew he just dropped the bomb and there was no going back now.
You told yourself that you were just gonna ignore it for now. Check back in maybe three days.
It hadn’t even been thirty minutes and you opened the app. Disregarding the new activity on your end, you went straight to his comment section.
“oh so we hard launching now?”
“babe, that don’t look like me”
“This was my last straw”
“bout to take a bath with a toaster”
“I’m actually sick”
“Who tf is this?”
“SHES GORGEOUS”
“Y’all acting like he want y’all.”
“You two are so cute!!”
“W post”
Of course there were going to be negative ones. But to your surprise, it wasn’t as bad as you thought. There were also a good number of positive ones.
You go to your notifications and it’s flooded. Again, the negative comments were there. Some asking who you were and why you were with Vinnie. Some putting the throwing up emoji. Nothing that you didn’t expect. Even Vinnie was surprised at the response, so far. He was sure he was gonna have to tell some people off.
In the days to come, he started posting you more since it the relationship was no longer a “secret”. And honestly, it came natural, not looking like he was trying to show everyone he had a girlfriend. He posted you like he would post his friends.
You did the same. Although you both made sure that a lot of things were kept private.
His fans loved that they could see Vinnie from your point of view on your insta story. They loved seeing him act silly while y’all were out to lunch or out shopping because you dragged him. You liked being able to give them that content.
When he would post a video on tik tok and you were in it, some people would be like “she’s OUR gf” and he’d be like “bro what?”
You had an account of your own but wouldn’t post all that often. Vinnie’s fans would comment on his videos, telling him to tell you to post more.
When he streams, he’ll get a lot of “where’s y/n?” comments from viewers. Sometimes they would ask so much that he literally has to say that you’re not even there at the house. He would fake being offended that they weren’t playing attention to his game play. Not that he could blame them. He couldn’t stop thinking about you either.
There would be mail sent to the P.O. box with Vinnie’s name on the packaging label but every single item was for you.
When out in public, fans were just as excited to meet you. You can’t even count how many selfies you took with them.
Even the guy fans. Now, Vinnie isn’t the type to really get jealous, but you could tell something was up by how clingy he got after.
It’s like they loved you more than him and honestly, Vinnie couldn’t have been happier at the turnout.
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OK SO WHILE I WAS WATCHING SOME TOKIO HOTEL EDITS I GOT THIS IDEA(if it's too much feel free to ignore and I'm sorry if I confused you, I'm not good at explaining😭😭AND I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS GIRLY❤️😘)
Ok so. Modern! Dad! Tom Kaulitz with teen twins(maybe around 15-16 or sum). Like one daughter and one son. Both of them are super sassy and aren't scared of confrontation like they are really confident, they don't care what anyone thinks of them(like they laugh at haters and stuff) yet they take no disrespect especially not towards their dad or the other twin. Tokio Hotels' younger fanbase also literally simps for them and stuff, like they make edits of them and stuff. The twins also really remind everyone of Tom when he was their age. Like the boy, he has the same style his father did just with a little more modern touch to it. And the girl, her style consists a mix of Tom's style too. For exampld: cargo/parachute pants, tube tops, bralette/crop tops, trapper/biker/cadet caps, beanies, platform heels/boots(Demonias), oversized shirts/hoodies, hoop earrings, chains, bead bracelets, long acrylic nails, etc. . Like whenever anyone sees the twins, you know their outfits are never boring/dry. Like the girl is an absolute maneater and the boy is a womanizer(but they have admirers of all genders). Like both twins especially the girl really love Heidi because let's just say their bio mom went to get milk right after they were born. And like how would the relationship with their uncles(Bill, Georg and Gustav) be?
I know this is a hell lot so I won't be surprised if you just ignore it LMAO💀💀
(I love this idea sm hold up I'm finna add it to my Dr but Bill lmao. And so worries, I did a lot to match this so I hope you enjoy!)
Kaulitz Twins Gen #2
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The media went crazy when you guys were born
Or being brought into the world
If you do the math, Tom was only seventeen and even he was freaking out
Especially with your mother and media and his career
But, with help from the band, he actually managed to become a good dad
Tried to help your mother stay but she just walked out
He never really looked for her, thinking if she could leave two beautiful kids like you guys she didn't deserve to even be looked for
Or if she ever wanted anything from Tom after she left he told her to fuck off
He didn't think he would be a good dad
Until he finally held you guys in the hospital room
Then he finally realized maybe, he would be a good dad
And he promised to never fuck it up
And he didn't!
Bill was happy to meet you guys, Georg was happy for Tom and sorta excited for two kids runnings around the stage while Gustav was a bit nervous but happy nonetheless
Bill always took you guys out and dressed you up when you guys were kids
No matter your gender
Georg let you guys rain hell, eat candy, stay up, even bought you guys a puppy to spite Tom
Gustav was a more relaxed uncle who let you guys do what you want but be careful while doing it
As you guys grew older you grew up in the media eye
Especially because of who your family was and you needed to be brought on tour with them
Tom tried to control it but paparazzi would literally run after you guys when the band would try and shield you guys from them
Tom felt helpless in those situations and did his best to keep you guys safe
You were confused when you saw your dad upset and yelling at the random people with cameras and when you guys would go home he would apologize
You didn't know why he did but you knew they just made your dad upset
And that made you and your twin upset, very much
Whenever paparazzi would come around you guys would yell at them
Shit like "No pictures!" Or "go away!" "Leave us alone!" "Stop following us, weirdos!"
Your dad's and uncles taught you guys to speak your minds but couldn't help but be surprised when you guys yelled at paparazzi
When you were little you and your twin even threw shit at them for following you guys
You were like six mind you
Better paparazzi, not such prying and rude ones, actually found it funny and when you guys were photographed like that it went sorta media crazy
You guys were known as the second generation of Kaulitz Twins sort
You guys were very sassy, spoke your mind and didn't care what people thought of you guys even from a young age
If expressed any interest in media, like modeling, singing and your twin did too Tom would let you guys
He would watch over of course but you guys did modeling, photoshoots, even went into interviews when you guys were young
For being teenagers you guys had quite the fanbase
You guys aren't scared of confrontation at all
Like one time someone was giving your Uncle Bill a hard time at a signing and wouldn't leave him alone
You and your twin went over, pushed them away and started yelling at them to back up or you would have to put them on their ass
Safe to say they left
Bill was surprised but your dad was very much proud
He didn't raise you guys to take bullshit
Tom admires that you guys could be so confident even at a young age
You guys genuinely do not care about being talked about or what people think about you guys
You guys have so much fun making fun of haters and laughing at them
Especially ones that try and "confront" you guys in public
You even told one "Get the fuck out my face." Laughing so hard your twin had to hold you up as Tom lead you guys away
Tom likes that you guys don't any bullshit from anyone
Especially when you guys defend him and your twin
You guys don't stand for hate and God help anyone who tries you guys
You have fought a few people when it got out of hand
They were talking shit so I say it was justified
You and your twin poke fun at how the younger fans already are simping for you guys
You are sorta like your dad when he was young in that tense
Like you guys play with hearts, flirt, tease and shit like that
You guys see edits and posts about you guys and how people find you guys attractive
You guys are constantly commenting on the edits and shit like that or are so smug about it
You guys like the attention you guys get so much
You guys like the reactions you get from fans when they see you guys saw their edits or posts and are giving them attention
You guys are too much like your father
So much so you remind everyone who your dad is everyday by simply existing
Your brother has a few collections of your dad's old clothes back then and wears them a lot
Like his shirts, hats, pants and bands that Tom wore he has a lot of them, the ones that weren't donated
Your brothers style is almost exactly like your dad's and everyone sees it
Except it has a more modern touch and a few more stuff your brother incorporated
Your style was the most surprising to everyone but not at the same time
Your style was definitely influenced by Bill when he dressed you up when you were younger
Your style everytime you wear something makes a statement and is always photographed or edited by fans
Doesn't help you look fucking good in everything you wear
Some stuff is sorta revealing and short so obviously Tom being that dad he is says stuff like
"That's too short. You look good, I know, hon, but what if you get cold?"
Get Heidi to talk to him, and plus your his little girl so he lets you rain hell if you wanted too
Bill absolutely loves your style and helps you pick out what to wear
Is holding your hand above your head, spinning you to get a full look of the outfit and applauding y'all's work
None of your family stands for any shaming of your outfits though
Especially when people say you're asking for attention or are dressed too skimpy and shit like that
Your response is always the same, that you want the attention and to fuck off
But when you're not wearing stuff like that you also wear some of your dad's old clothes or stuff that fit his style back then
Especially his shirts and his old pants
Everyone knows when you step outside your outfits are gonna be fucking good
Always making a statement and never leaving in a "basic" outfit
Tips you find from uncle Bill that are always helpful
You guys have a lot of fans, all genders, who simp for you guys and some even throw themselves at you guys
Let's just say you guys take up some offers
But you guys are described as two twins who is a maneater and a womanizer
You guys are exactly like your father in that sense when he was your age
He tries to get you guys not to like players or absolute dick like he was when he was your age
He just wants you guys to be safe and not play around with people's hearts
But bring up old interviews and he'll leave you guys to your own devices
You guys flirt, tease, kiss and sometimes more with fans but he's still your dad so he'll object
He'll take you guys away when he sees that so be careful not to do it flat out in front of your dad
Be sneaky, whisper and sneak off
You both really love Heidi
She's your mom
Not step mom or anything but your mom as she took you guys in and raised you as her own kids when she didn't need too
You and your brother are a mama's boy, mama's girl, daddy's girl and daddy's boy
You both love them equally no matter what
You both really loved by both your parents and your siblings
You helped your dad propose to Heidi and we're so excited when they got married
You two were so happy to see your parents happy and officially have siblings
You guys are little schemers with Heidi's kids
Heidi helps you guys with anything and no matter what it could be
Heartbreak, outfits, crushes, stress, happiness, anything and she is there
Even if your mom tried to come back in your life Tom and Heidi would leave it up to you guys
But when you say no it's a weight off their shoulders
You call Heidi mom and so does your brother
The first time you did Heidi froze for a moment but couldn't help but pecker kisses all over your guys' faces and hug you guys
You're her kids and she wouldn't have it any other way
You guys are very famous around the world and it can be very stressful at times
But with your uncle's, dad, mom and your twin, you wouldn't change it for anything
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greythemed · 10 months
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𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo
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˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ how is like to date gun-woo part two ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1770
dating gun-woo consists of you being a lightweight while he has the best alcohol tolerance in the group, consequently making him your babysitter for the rest of the night no matter how much he drinks (this man's tolerance is no joke, we saw it on episode seven).
he IS the type of boyfriend who spoils you like there is no tomorrow. gun-woo is so detached when it comes to money that soon after winning a pay-per-view match (it was his first one after being officially sponsored by your father!) he was ready to deposit the whole freaking 3 billion wones on your account like that was NORMAL.
"but babe, you don't want it?🥺" he says once he is out of the ring, innocent eyes rising accordingly to your patience. "you can buy whatever makes you happy 'cause i want to see you happy". and you're like "NO GUN-WOO YOU CAN'T SPEND YOUR ENTIRE MONEY ON ME". and he be like. "yes i can????".
honestly we should navigate more of that. gun-woo knows the value of money in this world, he knows that it can change some people's lives. but he never once did something to get money for himself. he was always running and fighting for his mother, her café, her safety and her dreams. so when everything was over and he caught himself with a pile of gold in his hands (he helped his mom and there was still much money left!), he didn't know what to do and how to spend it.
that's when you came through and saved gun-woo's life. because again he has something to spend money with, and someone to spoil.
it doesn't matter if you're rich already (your dad is a ceo and you just became a doctor by yourself!), gun-woo's love language is buying you food whenever he goes out. it is your birthday? expect numerous gifts throughout the entirety of the day. he caught you eyeing something in a store for a little more than 4 seconds? boom! new package arriving at your door the following day.
and that goes even before he became a well-known pro-fighter in korea. when he still was only your cousin's friend that min-beom suspiciously kept by his side during difficult times. he wasn't that big on money, you could tell that, but he still was trying to get your attention by buying different snacks on his way to your home.
HE LOVES HIS PILLOW PRINCESS.
each type of gun-woo's hugs has a different meaning and he is so happy that you caught that in the early stages of your relationship. this six feet tall man is hugging you from behind while you're innocently staring at his penthouse's living room's view? that means he's feeling vulnerable and in need of some of your love.
when you feel his arms enveloping your waist and his lips leaving a kiss on your ear? you already know he is feeling excited enough to express his love for you in many different ways.
gun-woo is a loveable person at the end of the day. he needs some validation from time to time and will get clingy if you don't express your feelings for a while. that causes some agitation in your relationship, including arguments about the different love languages both of you have.
sometimes, you think gun-woo is too honest about certain things. the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve while being a war trunk makes him incredibly dangerous. how do you expect to act around your gorgeous boyfriend while he is a softie on the inside and you know it? you have no option left but to act like a slut.
he points that out someday when you are both alone. "baby, are you okay? you are staring weirdly at me for the past 30 minutes and i'm getting worried".
and you cannot react, otherwise, you'd be ruining your family dinner and jumping that man's bones in the middle of the fancy restaurant while everyone's watching.
even when he is in desperate need of some affection, he doesn't want to disturb you. he doesn't know how this works in the long run, after all. he doesn't feel confident enough to say that out loud. that he needs you at that moment. so you'll have to get pretty good at reading his signs, especially his eyes.
woo-jin's knowledge comes in handy in times like these.
like the first time you met his mother (you were his first ever girlfriend, so he wanted her to like you too!) and he was staring at her the entire afternoon at the café with so much anxiety coming out of him that you had to drag him to the bathroom so he could calm down.
he had the habit of clenching his jaw when he was anxious. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine, i'm sure she is lovely". you tried to reason with the boxer, constantly having to cup his jaw so he could relax. "i'm sorry, i'm just apprehensive". he replied with those puppy eyes that you'd immediately pout for.
everything went smoothly with his mother and she even made a special dish for you that day! but the second you're alone in your room that night you call woo-jin and ask for some advice on how to deal with your boyfriend's anxieties because who else would know about that other than his marine best friend?!
i'm not done talking about this man's alcohol tolerance because is SO FUCKING SEXY AND FOR WHAT?! i swear on that scene in episode seven, my eyes were glued on the screen every time he took a sip like sir please be my boyfriend????
and even woo-jin was surprised it was so funny to me.
so expect your first club night outs (honestly, gun-woo just came because you asked him nicely) to be completely HORROR for the boxers. the second you started drinking, woo-jin and gun-woo didn't take their eyes off you because they KNOW how YOUR alcohol tolerance is almost non-existent but still you want to have a good time.
like "NO Y/N YOU SHOULDN'T PISS ON A BURNING TO TAKE THE FIRE DOWN BC ITS EASIER". and woo-jin would be SO done with you all the time, glaring at gun-woo every time you said something stupid. he'd be like "this is your phd doctor girlfriend???". and send a dirty look to his best friend.
and on the rare occasions where you don't feel like drinking you can't help but stare intensively at gun-woo's adam's apple bobbing every time he takes a sip from the soju bottle woo-jin challenged him to take (it was indeed a rare occasion) because WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!
and then finishing with the most polite smile and the glossiest eyes you've ever seen like IT WAS NOTHING?!?!?
he looked at you asking what was wrong and you would turn nonverbal for the next 30 seconds before kissing him in front of the bar AND WOO-JIN
nsfw under 😳😳😳
hear. me. out.
at first, gun-woo wasn't the most speaker in bed because - let's be honest - the boy is timid. but the second he sees your reaction when he accidentally lets a whimper slip from his mouth one day, a whole key is turned inside the boxer's brain.
when you're riding him, he entwines your fingers with his, placing kisses on your wrist, your palm or wherever possible and just breathing "you're going to make me lose my goddamn mind, fuck".
you get high from watching him orgasm and vice-versa.
when he comes back up from between your thighs for a breather, for example, his eyes notice your clutched hands at your sides, nails digging into your palm - because he pays attention to every little detail you let it slide, you already know that - and he wasn't having it. leaning down to continue from where he left off, he takes your hands in his and places them on his head, a gesture telling you to just pull his hair already.
this man is timid but he's also a romantic. when i tell you gun-woo needs confirmation from you whenever you are together, i mean at sexy times as well. the moment you start to feel too level-headed and too euphoric and close your eyes, he is fast to turn your attention to his voice so he could guide you.
"no, no look at me baby—keep 'em open. need you to see me, ye?". he grunts and your eyes flicker open once again, obediently following his rules, giving him the eye contact he so desperately craves.
there is a thing we need to talk about gun-woo sizing you up for the first time.
when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head. gun-woo was sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core. he said it was for 'safety purposes' when you caught him doing it, embarrassment evident on his flaming cheeks and stuttering mouth.
but the second time he does it? you were feral, almost coming right then and there. essentially, he was trying to see just how far in he was going to be, just how deep he was going to fuck you and you clenched so hard around nothing that you had to slap him to stop.
"you can't just do this, gun-woo!". you wanted to curse. "s-sorry", he was caught again, but now not a single drop of shame adorning his features. by the looks of it, he was smirking.
cursing? let's talk about that.
you knew you dated an angel so to speak. but the whole angelic persona gun-woo carried on his daily basis was left at the door when he was alone with you. cursing? he did on rare occasions, maybe when woo-jin went too far with a joke about his mother or when he pressed his little finger on the car door while rushing to the gym.
but never with you.
so imagine your surprise when the first string of 'fucks' slipped past this man's lips when he entered you for the very first time. and then the constant self-control he needs to collect when you are too far in orgasmland and whisper dirty things in his ears.
"feel too full woo", you moan absentmindedly and gun-woo lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.
"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that, princess". he warns.
i began to pass out and my head hit the wall boom!
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i am not proud of this one (sorry for any misspellings, this is not proofread!) and i'm sorry for ending this here hahahahahah leaving y'all dry and wanting because that's what life is about!!! (suffering) THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND WORDS YOU GUYS ARE THE LOVELIEST <33
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1d1195 · 1 year
Text
Traditional VII
You can read the rest of this series here: Traditional
I've heard lots that we're excited about this part, please keep that in mind as you read and try not to hate me by the end of it. Also, a huge reminder I don't know much about business terminology, concepts, or situations.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?”
“I’m so proud of you,” he told her.
Can you bring this file in? FYI Harry’s mad. Don’t be alarmed.
:( be right in
She hated when Harry was mad. Nothing made her more nervous than when he was angry. She had only seen it a handful of times. Fortunately, it had never been directed at her. She was hoping to keep it that way. But moreover, she hadn’t been an immediate witness to his temper either. In the six months she had been at Styles Incorporated, she had only heard him yelling through Niall’s phone or from an office she passed. Unbeknownst to her, whenever he yelled or got frustrated, Niall did everything in his power to ensure she wouldn’t be around. He did it regularly because he knew his track record with the interns before. But now he did it because he was Harry’s best friend and as his best friend, he knew how much this girl meant to him, even if Harry wasn’t fully aware yet.
Of course, there was nothing to get mad about outside company walls. So, when he was angry, all she felt was worry and sadness. If Niall needed her help mid-meeting and he was mad, then it was dire.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the meeting title on Niall’s schedule one last time. The meeting was held for the last three hours of the workday with the anticipation of finding a solution within the first hour. But they hadn’t so it was now approaching hour two. She grabbed the appropriate folder making sure the name on the meeting in his schedule matched the folder in her hand. She had looked over that file with Niall not too long ago. Like an epiphany, she knew the reason for Harry’s anger. She wished she had told Niall this morning all the research she had been doing before he went about his own business. Or at least asked what his thoughts were on what she had done. Unfortunately, since landing in front of Harry and Niall this contract issue had been all-consuming and there hadn’t been much downtime for her to get a word in to either of them while at work. It was especially too late now. She had no idea what they had discussed up to this point. Grabbing the folder off Niall’s desk she hurried down the hall to the conference room. As she was told on her very first day, she knocked and entered. But her heart was beating out of her chest like she was in trouble. She entered in the middle of Harry’s rant, and she made eye contact immediately with Niall who sent her a quick wink to keep her calm. No one looked at her except for Niall. The idea of even glancing in Harry’s direction made her too nervous to do anything.
“— as I’m concerned we can stay here all night until we figure out a plan!”
The venom in his voice made her uneasy. She was so shocked that the man that previously rubbed petroleum jelly all over her body and kissed her like she was made of porcelain could produce such a sharp tone that it made her almost visibly cringe. There were at least fifteen people seated around the large table. No one looked at Harry. They all typed rapidly on their laptops looking for solutions.
“If someone doesn’t come up with something in the next five minutes, I’m going to start firing someone every 10 minutes until the end of the day,” he growled out.
Naturally, Niall was seated beside Harry at the farthest end of the table from the door. He was the only one who looked calm. She didn’t know how he could sit right next to him so unaffected. Must have been nice to be his best friend. She walked slowly. As if she walked that slowly, Harry might not see her. She didn’t want him to see her. She was worried he would get mad at her reflexively. Which didn’t make any sense because it didn’t involve her at all. But it didn’t matter. His anger made her sad solely because she cared so much about him—whether he knew it or not.
“What if we ask one of them to le—”
Harry turned his head like he was in a horror movie and just possessed by a demon. He spoke toward the person about to say (arguably, even from her perspective as a lowly intern) the dumbest thing she could have ever imagined someone saying at this moment in time. “You’re not about to recommend that one of our biggest clients leaves?” He snapped bitterly. She flinched almost imperceptibly at his tone. “What the fuck am I paying the lot of you?” He grumbled under his breath.
Everyone was avoiding eye contact with everyone else, not just Harry. “Does anyone have a semi-intelligent idea, or should I start firing people?” She couldn’t believe how harsh he was. But that’s why he was the boss, and she was just an intern. “Someone better say something useful in the next fifteen second or everyone—”
At the same time Harry spoke, she handed the file off to Niall. The silence was approaching near deafening. “Thank you, darling,” he whispered.
Without her realizing, her anxiety of Harry’s anger proved to be too much for her. The need to find a solution, offer a solution bubbled out of her mouth without her brain’s consent, she spoke just as Harry was about to fire the whole group. She wanted it to be whispered to Niall but her brain, as always, was so wrapped up in Harry that her mouth bypassed all rational thought. It took her a moment to notice it was her own voice speaking. “Why don’t you just have them partner together so it’s a mutual agreement between them?”
The moment the words left her lips, she slapped her hand over her mouth with an audible smack. She closed her eyes and refused to make eye contact with anyone. “I... am... so sorry,” she glanced finally at Niall. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, lips parted in shock. Like he was just as frozen in disbelief as she was. The outstretched folder in his hands hadn’t even fully made it into his possession yet. If she thought the room was silent before, nothing compared to the ear-piercing quietness now. After another moment suspended in a long pause, Niall turned to Harry.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he mumbled. Harry appeared shocked by her outburst as well. In fact, for the first time all day it seemed, he was speechless. His eyes were scanning her like he had only just noticed she was there. Maybe she was lucky, and walking slowly did make her invisible.
“Go on,” Harry said. She could tell he was still wildly irritated, but he bit back his frustration once he realized it was her. That made her nervous in itself; she hoped no one paid any mind to how he lessened his tone. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I-I don’t—” She shook her head.
“No, go ahead,” Niall said encouragingly and rubbed his forehead at the same time, so he was covered when he winked at her without anyone else at the table seeing behind his hand.
“Uh...if...you partner them before you ask for what you want out of a merger...then it avoids a conflict of interest,” her voice wasn’t unsure, per se. She was confident she was correct. But she was terrified of Harry. Well...not...her Harry. Not that he was hers...but the version of him that cared for her in some capacity. He would never make her feel stupid or question her.
“Oh, we can’t seriously be taking an intern’s advice,” a woman at the other end of the table said. She glanced at her and could feel her own face warming in embarrassment that she was so thoughtless to say anything.
Harry’s head snapped toward the woman at the other end. Since she specifically did work for Niall, she knew nearly no one other than Harry and a few people from IT and HR. She didn’t even know the name of the woman that somehow took offense to her idea. “I’m sorry, did you have an idea?”
“There’s no way she knows what we’re talking about. She’s not even supposed to be here. This meeting is confidential.”
“Love, d’you have anything to attend to, or can y’stay for the last bit of this?” Harry asked.
“Oh, I don’t have to stay,” she shook her head quickly. Trying to keep Harry, Niall, (and now) this woman happy was her first priority...even if she hated the woman at the other end of the table. The last thing she wanted was for someone to notice Harry treated her differently. “I was going to tell Mr. Horan abou—”
“Niall, is she busy or can she spare a few minutes to stay and chat?” Harry asked, interrupting her.
“Mr. Styles, this meeting is confidential!” She would really like to know what she did to piss this woman off.
“Does anyone have a better idea?” Harry asked. It was silent.
“You should stay, darling,” Niall smiled gently as he murmured the words to her. He stood quickly and gestured for her to sit. He leaned against the windowsill, perched the folder on his lap and flipped through the first couple pages scanning for information.
No one answered Harry’s question. Specifically, the woman at the other end who was glaring at the now empty seat beside Harry. “Then, please sit,” Harry said quietly. But it was really an order. So, she sat uncomfortably. She never left her office without a pen behind her ear, which she was more grateful for than ever. Taking the writing utensil from her ear, she pulled it into her lap and fiddled with the cap opening and closing it quietly so she wouldn’t let it click but still allowed her to fidget awkwardly.
“Please continue,” Niall said from his spot by the window. Harry started pacing the length of the wall across from the window. Near the door to the hall.
She cleared her throat. She wanted to sound confident. Part of her wished she wrote it down. “Well, Mr. Horan had mentioned the dilemma...so I researched some similar cases,” she explained.
She spoke for a couple minutes. People were listening to her intently. She even surprised herself, but she thought of the research she had been doing when Niall mentioned the stressfulness of the most recent contracts and why this one of all things was going to be dire if they didn’t come up with a solution. All she wanted was to help; specifically, she wanted to help Niall the most (ergo Harry as well). Plus, she liked research. A few people had minor questions, curious as to what cases she looked up or how she even knew in the first place of where to look. “Well... one of my professors was big on conflict of interest, so I emailed him to ask.”
Niall and Harry made eye contact from their respective corners of the room. She was too nervous to look at either of them to notice the look that passed between them.
After speaking for so long, she finished her little monologue with a summary. “If my understanding and research is correct, this is definitely more of a legal process and problem we would—excuse me, you would have to go through. What I found, however, if you have the two clients for a partnership on this project, then you no longer have a conflict of interest. You do have to fill out a disclosure form and—”
“And lose a ton of money,” the woman at the other end grumbled. “Why are we even considering this?”
Harry didn’t speak. He was still pacing. He had had his hands clasped in front of his face; his index fingers pressed against his lips. Her heart was racing. Niall put the folder in front of her. On the very top paper Niall had written on a sticky note: you’re doing great :)
She took a deep breath. “Yes, there would be a pretty significant loss...but as far as I can tell by my research, the only other option is to lose one or both of the clients. Which I think would be arguably detrimental,” she concluded and pressed her lips together. She bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep her from saying anything else.
Harry spun on his heel at the sound of her accurate conclusion. For one miniscule moment he held her gaze. It was so brief if she wasn’t so in love with him, so attuned to catching where his eyes were looking, she might not have noticed. “Do you all recognize how this was an actual helpful contribution to our situation?” He asked rhetorically once more.
“Losing money is helpful?” Who spit in her coffee that she had such an attitude? And why was it directed at her idea? Did she not know that a business like this was a group effort? Her heart was hammering against her chest so fast; the idea that someone thought she was stupid made her feel so embarrassed.
“Losing the least amount of money is helpful,” Niall remarked casually looking up from his folder.
“Thank you,” Harry said, and it was a surprised sounding thank you. One that she hadn’t ever really gotten from him. Most of his thank yous oozed with kindness. This one was flat. Like he was trying to not show how truly thankful he was for her.
“Get up,” Niall whispered quickly as he leaned toward her to grab a document out of the folder. He didn’t mean it maliciously and she could tell that. In fact, she was quite grateful he told her what to do because she wanted to run out of there. She would have thrown herself out the window to escape if that meant she could get away from the awkwardness of Harry’s anger and that woman’s anger. She stood and Niall put the piece of paper in front of his mouth and directed his speech against it so it would go toward her ear. “Go get the disclosure form, check your phone. Great job,” his voice was so low, but she didn’t miss how the seriousness emphasized how proud he really was.
She exited around the opposite side of the table as Harry made his way back to his original seat. She left the room and breathed a sigh of relief getting out of there. She could already hear Harry chattering away on the other side. Almost immediately her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Niall.
HOLY SHIT.
Oh my God...
Oh. My. GOD.
Good or bad?
I’m freaking out!
GOOD. I’M SO PROUD. Bring the form back in, you don’t have to stay, knock and give it to Harry.
Do you want me to fill it out?
Darling, if you fill it out, Harry might not be the only one who falls in love with you.
*
She was practically bouncing in her apartment when she got home. She felt so light, so excited to contribute something of worth to Harry’s company. She cleaned and danced around the whole place feeling like she could truly do anything. Once cleaned, she pulled the laundry from the dryer, and she was bouncing to the music in her headphones while she waited for her leftovers to reheat in the microwave. She was going to fold laundry and snuggle up with a good book after eating and having one of the best days of her professional life thus far.
She emailed her professor back and thanked him for the help, told him how grateful she was, and the advice was so helpful that she really thought she might get a job at the end of the year.
I had a GREAT day! She texted Louis and Eleanor.
Oh yeah? Did Harry finally fuck you?
Louis, can you just...? Eleanor sent an eye roll emoji to their chat. She giggled. Not even Louis being cheeky could embarrass her right now. What happened, love?
So, she sent a few voice messages and told them all about the woman that seemed to hate her for no reason. All about how Niall was impressed. Her professor was impressed. Maybe most importantly, Harry was impressed.
Of course, she hates you. Harry values you and your opinion. She’s JEALOUS. She didn’t want to believe Louis. The idea that anyone would be jealous of her was laughable. But it created a pang in her chest because there was just no way that anyone would ever think Harry would willingly be with her in that way. That he would see her in the light that could possibly make people jealous.
Don’t forget we’re proud of you too, love :) Eleanor replied.
Her phone rang at that moment with Louis at the other end. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi, are you alright?” She asked curiously hearing the gentle tone. It was very unlike Louis to sound so quiet. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she listened alertly for signs of trouble.
He chuckled. “Yes, babe. Promise.”
She pressed the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she folded her laundry. “Then—”
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. She stopped folding. Her heart fluttered and she rolled her lips into her mouth. Louis wasn’t one for long loving speeches. She only ever heard his big speeches all of three times. Once when her brother died and he spoke at the funeral, the next when he found out how she had been living for the two years since his passing with her parents, and finally when he told Eleanor how much he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and she snapped pictures of him sliding a ring into place.
This, apparently, was going to be the fourth time. “I didn’t video you, because I know you’re probably fighting back tears already, so I just want to say this and then I’m going to hang up immediately because if I even hear a sniffle I’m going to run over there, and you know how I hate running.”
She smiled because if she laughed or breathed, she would have started to cry.
“Your brother would be unbelievably proud of you. Actually, I know he’s proud of you. Prouder than anyone—prouder than Eleanor, me, Harry, Niall, your professor...everyone. You are incredible. Your parents have no idea who they’re missing, and your brother is...wow,” he said simply in awe. She let the tears silently flow and she nodded, trying not to breathe into the phone because she didn’t want to bother Louis by making him run. Her heart ached so badly. Nothing was fair about this moment. Her brother should have been there. But she loved Louis so much for being there for her, for cheering for her when no one else did. “Okay, I’m gonna go now so you can cry in peace. I love you, babe, always and always.”
“Me too!” She heard Eleanor from the back.
“Talk soon,” he said sweetly, and the call ended.
She released a noisy sob and brushed the tears away. Unfortunately, she didn’t cry in peace for longer than thirty seconds. Niall was calling her before she could catch her breath. “Hello—?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you darling, I know you probably just got settled at home, but I was just wondering if you could send Harry and I the artic—are you crying?” He asked. She accidentally let her sniffles get the best of her as she tried to calm herself while he spoke. She even turned the speaker away from her mouth to hide it as best she could so that he wouldn’t hear. It clearly didn’t work. “Darling, are you—?”
“What’s wrong?” Harry was at the other end. “Love, are you okay?” The worry in Harry’s voice melted her already breaking heart. She sniffled again trying to regain her breathing so she could respond but all the words were choked off. “Kitten, please,” he begged anxiety so evident in his voice she could almost taste it.
“I-I’m fine,” she whispered sniveling like a child. “I’m—"
“No, you’re not,” he sounded like he was shaking his head and trying to convince her that she wasn’t okay. “Love, do y’need help? Are y’hurt?” She imagined him pacing Niall’s office. Squeezing his phone and in the right circumstance she believed Harry was strong enough to bend the metal frame.
“No!” she said hurriedly before Harry had paramedics breaking down her door. Or more than likely, before he broke down her door himself. “I’m okay,” but she was hiccupping on her uneasy breaths so much she couldn’t get all the words out fast enough, in one breath, to assuage his worry.
“Kitten, I don’t—”
“It’s just...my brother,” she croaked and let the tears of sadness but overwhelming kindness from her best friend flow some more. The last thing she wanted to do was worry Harry. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to force the tears to stop and she pressed her hand over her mouth so hard as she (very unattractively, in hindsight) snorted around a sob.
“Oh,” Harry almost sounded relieved. She nearly heard the sigh of relief deflating his tense shoulders. He figured she wasn’t hurt and that made all the difference to him. “Oh, m’so sorry, love,” he whispered. “M’glad you’re alright. Can y’jus’ call us back when y’feel up to it in a bit? Take your time, really s’not imp—”
“No, no,” she took a deep shaky breath. “No, I’m alright,” she sounded a little more confident.
“Love...” he cooed again almost disapprovingly. “S’okay. It doesn’t—”
“No, it’s alright,” she sniffled. “What do you need?” She asked.
Harry sighed. “The articles or the cases y’found. Our lawyers wanted—”
“Sure, sure. One second, I should—” she hiccupped on her own breath again but continued as if she didn’t interrupt herself, “—have sent them after the meeting.”
“It’s alright, y’didn’t know,” he answered softly. She hurried to her bag by the door with her laptop inside. Grabbing it she made her way to the kitchen counter and flipped it open. She liked listening to the way he sounded on the phone. His breath was comforting. It occurred to her she had never spoken to him on the phone since that first day at Styles Incorporated.
They were both silent while she booted up her laptop, save for the occasional sniffle. “One second.”
“Take your time,” he repeated. She released a shivering breath and Harry sighed like he was in pain. He didn’t think she lied to him on any kind of regular basis, but he thought she might if she was worried, she would upset him. So, while he hated the idea of her mourning someone so close to her—especially when the consequences were obviously much worse than he would ever know based on her brief retelling of the situation—and he couldn’t necessarily make it better, he was grateful she wasn’t hurt by someone else.
“Okay,” she gasped again trying to regulate her breathing. “Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I’m forwarding you the email—” shaky breath, “—I sent my professor and his responses so you can see the progression of our talk,” punctuated sniffle, “so you know why I have these certain cases.”
“Thank you, kitten,” he murmured quietly. His heart broke a bit more hearing each hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Have a great night.”
“You too,” she responded quietly.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?” She sniffled.
“Thank you for the meeting today. Y’did a great job. I’m...” he chuckled. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her. “I couldn’t say it in the meeting, of course... But m’really, really proud of you. I don’t think s’an exaggeration t’say y’saved a huge piece of the company. It was very impressive.”
Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. “Thank you.”
“Sleep well, love,” once he hung up, she finally released all the cathartic cries and tears she bottled up since Louis spoke to her.
*
As good as her day was after the meeting—where she felt she actually, confidently did well—the following day was equally (if not worse to the same degree) terrible.
It started off okay. She was still riding her good day high from yesterday all morning. Niall was out of the office on many meetings and calls thanks to her. All of which he was grateful they were even happening, and he periodically sent her messages saying he was really looking forward to his afternoon coffee because he had been so busy, and it was all thanks to her. Since Harry stole the phone from him the night before he still hadn’t gotten a chance to congratulate her in person on one of the most amazing meetings he had ever been to.
She always looked forward to coffee. Mostly because she would catch a glimpse of Harry when she delivered his tea to him and after having such a good day yesterday, and impressing him at that, she was really looking forward to seeing him for a minute. Especially before their movie night tonight.
However, returning with their afternoon coffee was exactly when her day turned sour. Her coffee didn’t taste very good. It was minor, but it dampened the thrill of getting Starbucks.
Additionally, her bank sent her a message asking if she had purchased $200 worth of merchandise overseas. “Oh, fuck,” she hissed as she set the tray of drinks on her desk while she replied to the message. So now she had no debit card for a week and she wasn't big on using her credit card if she could help it. So much so that she left it at home unless she was traveling.
But those were still minor inconveniences in comparison to the remainder of her afternoon. She delivered her tea to Harry’s office as she always did at the same time and frowned as he wasn’t there. Not wanting to look like a psycho stalker, she exited his office quickly, leaving the tea on his desk and made her way back to her office.
She never really brought it up around Harry and Niall, but as part of her university’s end of the deal at this internship, she had to write reflections periodically about her time at Styles Incorporated. Therefore, when she didn’t have anything pressing on her plate from Niall, she would write a few sentences here and there on her personal laptop.
But her laptop didn’t turn on.
“Okay...” she sighed rubbing her hand on her forehead as she planned her next steps to buy a new laptop...without debit card access to her account.
“He won’t sleep with you.”
Her head snapped up to the sound of the woman that clearly disliked her from yesterday. She still didn’t know her name. “Pardon?” She shook her head in surprise.
“Harry,” she stated rolling her eyes. She stood in her doorway of the small little office inspecting it with distaste. It was small but perfect in her eyes. To this woman however, it was a garbage can. Her nose practically upturned as if it had the same stench as trash. “He won’t sleep with you,” she repeated.
She blinked as if she had misheard her. “Wh-what?”
“The whole innocent-look on you is overdone and tiring,” she said. “Harry doesn’t sleep with people that work for him. Especially the interns.”
Her lips parted in shock. “I don’t—”
“Everyone wants to sleep with him,” she rolled her eyes. It sounded like she tried and failed. “Don’t think just because you’re all buddy buddy with his best friend and second in command that you’re special. There have been plenty of interns before you and there will be plenty after. You’re not special. Harry doesn’t fuck plain girls.”
Her heart shattered and she felt her face warm in complete embarrassment, but she couldn’t move or speak.
While she trusted Harry way more than she trusted this woman who obviously had it out for her, it was her worst fears said out loud. She knew she was plain. She knew that people like Harry didn’t go for girls like her—especially when he had done this before, and she was already so insecure about how she looked and how their companionship worked. “Just because you had one good idea doesn’t make you special or smarter than the rest of us,” she repeated.
She wasn’t special. She heard it loud and clear over and over.
“I’m sorry,” she said because what else was she supposed to say?
“Pathetic,” she snorted, rolled her eyes, and like a movie, she bumped into her desk and spilled her coffee clean across her already broken laptop, all over her desk, and spilled some onto her skirt. Perhaps the only highlight of the day was that her skirt was plain black, and the coffee tasted bad. So, it wouldn’t stain obviously for everyone else to see with the remainder of the workday...and it wasn’t a waste of coffee. She gasped at the coldness, but she supposed it was better than hot coffee. Make that the third highlight. The coffee spilled from her desk to the floor, and she glanced back up and the woman was gone.
She got up in hurry to head to the breakroom, get paper towels and try to calm herself. But of course, she slipped a bit on the spilled coffee whacking her arm so hard on her desk she was sure it would bruise. That was the last straw.
She sat in a heap on the floor for a moment trying to process the last hour of work and how good yesterday was compared to how horrible right now was. “Hey darling, how’s my schedule look this afternoon?” Niall called breezing by her little space, and she didn’t even realize she was crying and still sitting next to a dripping puddle of coffee when Niall turned back from his desk and coffee to see her sitting there. “Darling, you okay?” He asked nervously. She stood and sniffled shaking her head. Smoothed her soaked skirt and pretended like she was fine not looking toward Niall.
“Yeah,” she sniffed awkwardly. “Spilled my coffee.” She was no snitch.
“Oh, jeez. Sorry, darling. I’ll go get you some paper towels—”
“No, s’fine. My mess,” she mumbled, and she tried to use the mouse for the desktop but since coffee covered the length of her desk it wouldn’t move fast enough for her to click through. “Uh...” she shook her head. “I’m sorry...” she croaked. “My computer—”
“Hey,” Niall said gently, and his voice was closer. He was right behind her. “S’alright, don’t... Hey,” he said grabbing her wrist as she tried to figure it out, tried to find a solution like she always did. “Darling,” he cooed.
It broke her. It was too much, so much of the day went wrong so quickly it threw her. Niall’s quiet voice was kindly soothing, and it was all she could take in that moment. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
“Oh, hey,” he sighed and turned her around and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. She accepted it because she felt like if she didn’t her body would give out. She pressed her hands over her eyes as he held her and gently rocked. He didn’t pay any mind to the coffee that was probably getting on him yet again because of her. Her arm ached and she just wanted to go home so bad. “Shh, it’s okay,” he promised, and she shook her head. “Hey, what happened, love?” He asked gripping her shoulders and pushing her back a bit so he could try and look into her eyes. She shook her head.
“S’nothing.”
“Darling, it doesn’t look like nothing—”
She sniffled more and kept the part of her face covered. “It’s so stupid,” she hiccupped feeling like an idiot for crying in front of her boss.
“I’m sure it’s not,” he said encouragingly and pulled her back to his chest so he could let her cry. And she did for a good minute feeling the slightest bit relief.
But then naturally her day got even worse.
“Niall, I thought you—” instinctively, she ripped away from Niall her face warming as Harry saw how cozy Niall got holding her. Comforting her. She dared a glance at Harry.
For the first time in six months, he looked mad at her. “Sorry,” she whispered to Niall...or Harry. She was sorry regardless. There was nothing to apologize for, but she remembered when Harry saw Niall squeeze her arm. This was a thousand times worse.
“Yeah, sorry,” Niall shrugged. “We—”
“What’s wrong?” Harry wondered but his voice was tight. The air was so tense it felt like she couldn’t breathe. He wanted to be worried. She could feel it. Him asking was a chance to clear up the comforting. She should have just said it. But there was jealousy and sadness blocking his concern for her. It made her so anxious she felt tongue tied.
“She—”
“Let her talk,” Harry snapped. Niall may have been his best friend but that meant he knew when to speak and when to stay silent.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he ground out.
“Harry, stop,” Niall said immediately coming to her defense.
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” she didn’t look up, so she didn’t know Harry was staring at her. Waiting for her response. It never came. Her lower lip wobbled, and she glanced at Harry momentarily. Long enough to see how angry he was.
But she didn’t miss the hurt hiding in his beautiful, sad green eyes. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”
“Your turn,” he spat at Niall. Harry wasn’t thinking rationally because all he saw was the sweet girl sobbing into the arms of his best friend. He was upset about the company stuff, even with her brilliant idea it was still nerve wracking to have so much of what he spent most of his 20s on, in such a fragile state. Topped with the girl that clouded all his dreams upset and crying to Niall...all his irrational brain could think was that they fell in love working in such close proximity to one another. Plus, Niall was often more even-tempered and nicer than Harry was on a regular basis.
He scoffed at Harry. “Harry, no way,” Niall shook his head. “You know—”
“Apparently, I don’t know fucking anything,” he snarled. She visibly flinched at his tone. She shook her head, but Niall beat her to the punch. Besides, she couldn’t defend herself even if she tried to talk because it would be lost on broken sobs.
“Jesus Christ, Harry, don’t be a dick,” Niall rolled his eyes. Obviously if it was anyone but Niall he would have been fired on the spot. But as his best friend he supposed he had perks. “She was crying when I got here. She won’t even tell me what’s—”
He didn’t even let Niall finish. “My office,” he snapped and stormed out of the room.
She had a whole new set of tears flowing and she covered her face again. “Darling, don’t,” Niall rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He’s...he’s just the jealous type,” he whispered. “He’ll cool off. “Don’t stress,” he promised and headed out the door.
Once he left, she let herself have a small pity party while the coffee continued to pool on her desk and floor. Eventually, eyes cast toward the floor, she grabbed paper towels and started cleaning. On her hands and knees, she sniffled and wiped up the mess under her desk and she heard her phone vibrate from on top of her desk. It was Harry. Her heart rate increased rapidly, and her hands shook as she opened the message.
Don’t come over tonight.
Her heart broke.
*
Niall was unapologetically kind to her as the bad Thursday turned into a bad Friday. If wearing a skirt that didn’t stain was the highlight of her day yesterday, today it was Niall kindly asking nothing of her and reassuring her every time she forgot some simple tasks was today’s highlight.  She blamed Harry entirely for her restless sleep. Makeup could only do so much to hide the dark circles and bags that accumulated beneath her tear-reddened lash line.
Niall closed her office door to block out the hall and everyone from the rest of the floor. “You okay, darling?”
“He hates me,” she whispered.
“He is an idiot,” he said seriously. “You shouldn’t even forgive him.” She appreciated Niall’s effort, but it was lost on her with how sad she was. It felt like they were breaking up and they weren’t even together. “Can you tell me what happened? I can help,” he promised.
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she mumbled.
She should have just told him about the stupid, mean woman from the meeting. Niall would have probably marched right to Harry’s office requesting authority to fire her. Which was exactly what she didn’t want. He sighed sadly. “Alright, well...m’gonna just give you some space. Don’t worry about anything. Just take it easy...or go home early.”
She nodded. “Maybe after coffee,” she mumbled.
“Sure, darling. Whatever you want. You’ve earned it. Whatever it is.”
Niall grabbed his laptop, his bag, everything like he wouldn’t be back either. “Niall,” she whispered.
“Yes, darling?” He still gave her space not looking even though he wanted to assure her that everything was fine.
“He’s gonna fire me,” she sniffled.
Niall shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’d quit.”
She snorted a breath of laughter. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “Go home and sleep, love. That’s official intern work,” he said.
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for his idiocy,” he shook his head. “Don’t give him all this credit. You have made his life so much better and if he wants to be mad then he should know of all people it shouldn’t be directed at you.”
She felt her lips tremble with a bout of fresh tears ready to spill. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, darling. I hope you tell me soon so I can help.”
She nodded but said nothing.
*
She texted Niall that she left his coffee and Harry’s tea on his desk. Then she messaged Louis and Eleanor.
Are you guys around? I’m heading home early.
It’s anniversary weekend, babe!
Shit.
Oh fuck, I am so sorry. Of course. I’m just feeling a little cloudy. Heading home. Have a great time. I love you both so much :)
She was impressed with her hiding skills. Thankfully, texting was a lot easier to hide her emotions. She walked home from the office. It was over two miles, but it would be cleansing, and she could always call for an uber if she got tired.
Maybe go to Harry’s if you’re feeling poorly, Louis suggested. She closed her eyes and sighed, wishing she could.
Yeah, good idea!
She assumed Louis would see right through that given she hadn’t once thought to purposefully bother Harry once in six months. So, she assumed the call that vibrated in her hand was Louis.
“Listen, I’m really—”
“Who the fuck answers a phone like that?”
No, no, no. NO. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and she froze mid step. The person walking behind her bumped into her, but she stood stalk still as the voice at the other end of the line processed through her ear drum. Her jaw dropped open, it felt like it would unhinge from the shock.
This could not be the same terrible day. What came after terrible? That was the word she needed right now to describe the last twenty four hours.
“Mom,” she breathed.
“Your father is dying,” she stated. “Not sure if you care. But thought you’d want to know in case you wanted to cash in on your inheritance,” she snipped. Her words were clipped, clear. Not slurred or confused at all. She wondered if it was hurting her to not have alcohol in her system. She heard the distinct sound of hospital beeps in the background.
It felt like someone was ripping her heart directly from her chest. “I’m sorry, what?” She whispered.
“For the love of God,” she hissed. “Your father is dying. Say goodbye if you want.”
The call ended.
Her hands were shaking. She somehow managed to put the phone in her bag. She was suddenly extremely aware of how cold it was. Or maybe it was the feeling in her chest.
She turned on her heel and headed back for the building. Work was the only thing that was going to occupy her mind but really, she just wanted to see someone who cared for her at that moment. For the first time in six months, she came to the sobering conclusion that she was really alone. There was no one to help her because there was no one that cared for her in that way anymore. Anyone currently in her life would find her bothersome and she couldn’t do that to them.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t see anyone. Niall was giving her space—and in turn appeasing Harry. Regardless of how much he liked her, he was still her boss. She couldn’t expect his comfort. Her brother was dead, and her dad was soon to be. Even if he wasn’t, her dad and mom hated her since her brother died. Louis and Eleanor were her best friends, but they had lives to live; she couldn’t bother them on their anniversary while they were out of town.
And Harry…
Well, Harry hated her guts.
--
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emotionalmessss · 7 months
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Weird request, but would you be willing to take a shot at a Dabi headcannon list where the reader's family was friends with the Todoroki family, so he knew her before the fire when she was still a little girl?
A/N: ou, I'll definitely give this one a shot. I took a different approach with this one, so I hope I answered alright. :) I haven't written in months, so I'm kinda rusty and completely ran with this, sorry.
Warnings: slight spoilers for season six of MHA
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Touya, despite being an energetic kid, was shy when you first started coming around the Todoroki household. 
At first, he would stay hidden and watch you play with his siblings down in the courtyard, opting to observe you through the balcony railing. Or he’d be too focused on training his Quirk in another room.
He never really said all the much to you, only a few words here and there, but that didn’t stop you from trying to interact with him.
As Fuyumi tosses a ball at Natsuo, you spot Touya out of the corner of your eye, who leans back against one of the wooden support beams and observes. 
You couldn’t help but grin when you notice him, turning to give him your full attention, and trying to beckon him over with a frantic wave of your hand. 
“Touya! Come join us!” You call out towards him, your bright smile never fading as you urged him to play. 
Touya glances over at the sound of your voice, his hand tucked inside the pockets of his pants. Averting his eyes and drawing his lips into a thin line, as he contemplates your offer. For a moment, that stubborn look of his fades, and it looks as though he’s about to concede, but at the last minute, he pushes himself off the wooden beam and retreats upstairs. 
Your smile faded slightly and your shoulders slump in response to his denial, but your innocent self quickly shakes off the sting of rejection. He probably just wants to train, you think to yourself. 
Eventually, as you started to come around the house more often, Touya slowly found himself getting more comfortable around you. 
He started talking to you more than he usually did, and rejecting less of your offers to come and play. Oddly enough, whenever you were around, his entire focus was on you.
You could say that this was just innocent child curiosity, but it was something different. The faint blush and quick aversion of his eyes whenever you caught him looking at you, how he occasionally asked Rei when you’d be at the house again, and how excited he got when he’d offer to show you his Quirk.
He loved to innocently tease you, and tell you all about his plans in surpassing All Might, and becoming the Number One Hero. He would go on and on about it, since you were one of the few people who encouraged him and his goals.
Touya’s head immediately poked out of his bedroom when he heard the front door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of your voice. Less than a second later, he quickly makes his way over to the front entrance with an excited bounce in his step. 
“C’mon, I wanna show you something cool!” His voice taking on a higher pitch, laced with a sense of urgency. He grins and grabs ahold of your hand, barely giving you enough time to take off your shoes before he’s tugging you down the hallway and into his room. 
Your eyes widen in pure awe as he holds up his hand, a bright flame flickering around his closed fists. “That’s so cool! You’re amazing!” 
A prideful smile spreads across his face at your response, which fills him up with a sense of satisfaction. There’s also a weird feeling that builds up in his stomach, one that he’s completely unfamiliar with. 
“You really think so?!” He questions, almost like he’s not used to this type of reaction. His smile widens and the heel of his right foot digs into the flooring when you nod.
His eyes shift from you to his fiery fist, and then back to you again. That look on your face, along with your praise causes Touya to completely ignore the gnawing heat that his Quirk produces — one that his body is ill equipped at handling. 
Years after the incident, now taking on the persona of Dabi, joining the League, and vowing revenge on Endeavor. The bitter reminders of being tossed aside like trash, the constant rejection, and being deemed a failure, all brewed beneath his aloof demeanour. 
That hatred wasn’t solely directed at his father, oh no, it stretched to that perfect little masterpiece. That fucking brat, nothing but a puppet.
But, deep beneath his hateful and resentful thoughts, there was one thought that occupied his mind more than he would’ve liked. You.
It would be a lie to say that Dabi didn’t try to get you out of his head, but it rarely seemed to work out in his favour. He would always tell himself that you didn’t matter and that he’s a kid anymore. After all, Touya Todoroki died. 
But getting someone like you out of his head was harder than he imagined. Even after everything, he could still see your beaming smile, and hear your innocent words of encouragement. 
Thoughts of you even started to distract him during his business with the League, especially when he was out searching for new recruits. Every time he noticed someone that looked even a tiny bit like you, his stomach would instantly knot up. Anxiety? Anticipation? Who knew. 
Whenever the League’s activities would venture a little too close to where you lived (again, why did he remember this?) he’d purposely hang back a bit, his impassive expression giving away none of his inner turmoil. 
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deathisararemercy · 1 year
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Ties to The Past
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Death x ghost/soulmate!Reader
“Wait…is it really you, old friend?” If you had any blood in your body, it would’ve run cold. There was no mistaking that voice. The wrinkled old spirit in front of you, the soul who was standing next to the lifeless body in the bed, the person Death had come to reap, was a former friend of yours from when you were alive, years and years ago.
A/N: Sorry for the lack of a post yesterday. After posting something nearly every day for about a week, it felt weird not doing so last night. However, I come bearing a 3k part two to this 2 am post, aka Red String. This story has shifted a bit, but I hope you all enjoy. I have more planned out for this AU. It shouldn't be more than five or six parts, and I'll hopefully finish it by the end of next week, if not the end of this week. In the meantime, this is a little reminder that my requests are open (guidelines in pinned)! Thank you for all the love on Red String!
Part One | Part Two |
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“I’m sorry, mi fantasma. You can’t come with me on this one.”
Your eyes widened in shock before narrowing in suspicion. “Why not?” You floated over the wolf’s head, peering down at him. After what seemed like forever, you figured out how levitation worked, and it was now your favorite means of getting from place to place. Being a ghost had its perks, aside from the whole being dead thing.
Death, however, was not tolerating this at the moment. He batted you away with a grim expression on his face. “I can’t tell you.” Seeing your hurt expression, he sighed. “You won’t want to see this particular soul. They’ve done some…unpleasant things.”
You groaned, floating a bit further ahead of him as you gestured around you. “We’re in the middle of a small little seaside town,” you said incredulously. “What kind of ‘unpleasant things’ could this person have done?”
You had a point. The town the two of you walked (or floated) through was the epitome of an idyllic seaside life. The mid-afternoon air carried in from the sea was crisp and smelled faintly of brine. The red roofed houses were full of life and color. People, unaware of Death’s presence and certainly not of yours, called out to one another, selling wares, fruits, and fish, and children raced down to the seashore. Seeing the ocean’s horizon and the endless shades of blue filled you with excitement.
Slowly, you returned to the earth and walked alongside Death on the cobbled road, your red thread growing warmer at the physical proximity. “I’ve seen you work a ton of times before, Muerte. Good people, bad people. Old people, young people. I think I can handle another soul collection.”
“Don’t get cocky now,” he chuckled. He tugged on his hood to further obscure his face, though no one could see him at the moment. “I mean it, cordero,” he muttered. “When we arrive at the house, I want you to stay outside.”
You had died a long time ago. But when you did, your red soulmate thread appeared and connected you to Death. And not metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or in any other fancy way. Your soulmate was Death, straight up. Ever since he cut the silver cord connecting your soul to your physical body, you’ve traveled with the wolf and kept him company. Though he never said it aloud, you could tell he appreciated this, and that a small part of him needed it too.
Wolves are social creatures, you thought to yourself as Death changed the subject to a cat who was shot out of a cannon not too far from these shores. Death loved stories. His tail always wagged a bit whenever you told him a story about your life. Even after you thought you had run out of stories to tell, he always managed to dig up a memory of yours that you had thought you had completely forgotten. It amused and interested him to hear you talk about your life, and it kept you sane too. After all, it must have been…decades since you died. The fear of forgetting your life always haunted you, which was annoying because you were a ghost, and you were supposed to be the haunter and not the haunted.
At least if there was one person you knew you were haunting successfully, it was Death. Your red thread made sure the two of you were never too far from one another, but even without that thread, it would be practically impossible to separate you from his side. If being by his side and providing each other company as the world moved on and on and on was supposed to be your “happily ever after,” you weren’t going to complain.
But you were going to complain if he didn’t let you join him on this one little job. “Why don’t you think I can handle myself?” you asked him one last time. “Don’t you trust me?”
The wolf stopped suddenly. If you had a physical body, you would’ve walked straight into him. You stood in front of him now with a stern glare. The thread felt heavier than it usually did. An unreadable expression was on Death’s face. His eyes twitched a little as he spoke. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“Alright then.”
“It’s that I’m worried for you.”
This wiped the glare off of your face. You faltered. “What?”
Muerte pointed up at the window of the large house you two stopped in front of. “Up there in that bedroom is the soul I have to collect. An elderly person who has lived a life full of popularity, wealth, and status and died peacefully in their sleep during a post-lunch nap.”
“Sounds…pretty nice,” you mumbled. A scowl crossed your face. “So what? You think I’m going to get hurt because I’m going to see a person who lived a full life? I’ve seen plenty before!”
“It’s not just that, mi fantasma,” continued Death slowly. “They did not live a truly full life. They’re alone right now. And no one will know that they’ve died for quite some time. Despite their riches and ranking, no one was truly ever close with them. At least, there is no one they hold close anymore.” He placed a paw on your shoulder. “I have the feeling that they might resist me while I try to do my job, and I don’t want you to have to see me get…” He paused, tilting his head a bit and chewing on the words. “Violent.”
Realization dawned on your face slowly, softening your features. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he nodded. The wolf sniffed the air a bit. “I have to go in now. Stay here, alright?” He gently tugged on the string, warmth filling your bodies. “I’ll be right back.”
He began to whistle his eerie little tune, and in a blink, he was gone. Your thread showed that he was already up in the bedroom. You sighed. You weren’t going to complain. You were going to listen and be a good little ghost and respect his wishes and stay outside.
But you were worried about him.
You had no doubt that Death could handle himself in a fight. He was tall and strong, and his reflexes were terrifyingly quick. Though you’ve seen him use his sickles to cut cords, you knew he could use them very well in a fight. He was an immortal being, for folk’s sake. No one escapes Death. But even so…
A chill went up your spine as you tried to lean casually against the wall of the house and fell through to the other side. You jolted upright, finding yourself in the living room of the house. You could hear quiet murmuring upstairs. Well, you were already inside. One small peek wouldn’t hurt would it?
Right?
There was a loud crash and your chest suddenly burst into pain. “Muerte!” You phased upwards through the floor and found yourself in the bedroom.
Death stood with his back to the wall, startling when he saw you. He didn’t look hurt, but his eyes were burning a violent scarlet.
You rushed to the wolf’s side, hands searching for injuries. “Muerte, are you alright?”
He tightly shut his scarlet eyes before shaking his head and opening them. They were a bit less red, but the intensity remained. “I’m fine. But that,” he said, pointing to the other side of the room, “That’s a problem.”
On the other side of the room was the phantom. They were still connected to their physical body by their silver cord, but their spectral form was fizzling in and out of existence in anger. Black and red, hazy and undefined, its aura was one of nothing but anger.
“Here’s what I think we should do,” Death began as he struck his sickles together. “We- what are you doing?” he sputtered as you left his side and walked up to the phantom.
It screeched and it hissed, and the air around it seemed to burn hot, a sensation you hadn’t truly felt since your death. Everything sounded like static, but you stared intently at where you hoped their face was.
“You’re dead, and there’s nothing you or he,” you added, gesturing towards the wolf, “can do about it.” You glanced at the spirit’s physical, lifeless body. Their wrinkled face was in a grimace. Shutting your eyes tight, you focused on being able to touch the body and shifted the face’s expression to one of peace.
The phantom was less agitated, letting out a small confused shriek. “You can’t go back to your body or the life you used to have. I know it hurts,” you added quietly, “Having to let go. Realizing you can’t wake back up. But that big wolf over there?” You gestured at Death, who stood silently behind you. “He’s a really nice guy. And he’s going to cut that cord of yours and send you off to the spirit world. You’re going to be alright.”
The phantom’s edges began to sharpen, becoming less blurry. It drew closer to you. Behind you, you could hear Death’s low growling. The red thread in your chest seemed to bunch up in a tight knot. You held your breath. And the intense air in the room was gone, and the phantom was no longer a faceless specter, but a spirit more akin to the body in the bed. In fact, that face looked very familiar.
“Is it really you, old friend?”
If you had any blood in your body, it would’ve run cold. There was no mistaking that voice. The wrinkled old spirit in front of you, the soul who was standing next to the lifeless body in the bed, the person Death had come to reap, was a former friend of yours from when you were alive, years and years ago. You had a falling out just before you died actually, if you remembered correctly.
“H-hi..” you said quietly. You offered a small wave.
They didn’t wave back. “You don’t look like you’ve aged a day since…”
“I decided to stick around the mortal plane for a while,” you said lightly, trying to lean back against the wall before realizing Death was behind you. You heard him quickly sheathe his sickles, and he caught you as you stumbled into his arms. But his hands were tight on your shoulders as he set you back up while you laughed nervously. He didn’t let go.
Your former friend blinked slowly. Oh, this was going just splendidly. You plastered a bigger grin on your face as you left Death’s grip and walked around the room jauntily. There were paintings all over the walls of different people with your old friend in golden frames. As you took a look around the room, you realized how lavishly it was decorated with bright cushions and heavy drapery, unusual for a seaside house. “Glad to see you lived a nice and full life! It looks like you had a lot of fun and are- were- erm, doing really well for yourself!”
“I did.”
“I’m kinda jealous, you know. I died pretty young,” you chuckled, enunciating the ‘t’s and wagging a finger.
You cast a glance at Death, who still stood in front of the spirit. His gaze was… questioning. Are you okay? he asked silently with a slight tilt of his head. The red string connecting the two of you tightened.
You shook yours slightly in response, but circled back to your old friend. “But I’m still hanging around and all that. I might not be alive but I feel alive getting to hang out with Muerte everyday.” Oh, what the hell. That was such a stupid thing to say.
The spirit raised an eyebrow. “You hang out with this guy? Isn’t he Death?”
The wolf rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m Death.” He drew his sickles again. “And I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Hold on, hold on. Why are you sticking around him?” Your friend’s brows furrowed. They took your hands in theirs. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Death stiffened as you let go of their hands. “Well, the funny thing is…he’s my soulmate.” You splayed your hands out awkwardly, letting the statement sink in.
The room was still for just a moment. “Your red string. Is connected. To Death?” The spirit said slowly. And then they burst out into laughter. They wheezed, clutching their sides as you stood awkwardly in front of Death. “You?” they laughed. “With Death? Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s some really messed up luck. Fate was not on your side.”
“I’m starting to remember why we had that falling out,” you said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, please. Relax. I just thought you were doomed to die alone without a soulmate. I mean, you remember all those people you’d talk to. You were so desperate to find your soulmate. And you end up dying and this guy is your soulmate? What, is he keeping you captive or something? Come on, let’s just get to the spirit world. Together! Then I can introduce you to all the famous people I met. Maybe one of them will really like you, who knows?
“This entire thing with Death was probably just a mistake. Who could ever love a big bad wolf like him?”
You were ready to punch a ghost in the face, but Death beat you to it. “It’s time for you to go,” the wolf growled, stalking forward.
The spirit raised their hands over their head as if that would stop Death himself. “W-wait!”
With one clean swipe, Death slashed their silver cord. The spirit was freed from their physical body. Death gave them no time to react. With an upwards motion, his sicles cut through the fabric of the universe. The light of the shimmering doorway to the spirit world blinded everyone in the room momentarily. But the light didn’t stop Death. Before the spirit began to process what was happening, he shoved them through the door before deftly grabbing the edges of the ripped seam and pulling it shut. He slashed the air with his sicles to clear the air.
It was all over in the matter of seconds.
He stood still, breathing heavily. His hands gripped his sickles tightly, shaking.
You could feel the string grow taut, and you hesitantly drew closer to the wolf. “They’re wrong, you know.”
He blinked, suddenly remembering you were there. He stepped towards the window, laughing as he looked outside. He refused to meet your eyes. “I know. But I’m Death. They don’t get under my skin. They can think whatever they want. They can’t escape me and they certainly can’t change who I am. I’m fine, really.”
“I hate to break it to you,” you said gently, “But I’m pretty sure you’re lying to yourself right now.”
“I’m not,” Death grumbled. He sheathed his sickles. Looking back at the body on the bed, he gently tucked it in before heading to the door. “Let’s get out of here.” He stomped out of the bedroom, leaving you to follow.
“Wait!”
You quickly ran out to follow him.
“Muerte!”
On the stairwell, his ears twitched a little. He turned to look at you, halfway out of the bedroom door. “¿Sí, mi fantasma? What is it?”
You opened and closed your mouth, trying to figure out what to say. You stepped forward, while pulling him closer by pulling on the red string. “Don’t believe a word they said. I chose to stay  in the mortal realm. I wanted to get to know you and I wanted to be there for you. All my life,” you choked out, “All my life, I looked for a soulmate. I met so many people with so many fascinating stories and lives. But even though I wasn’t alone, I still felt lonely.”
“Are you trying to say that you think I’m lonely?” Death teased.
“Yes!” you blurted out. “Yes, I think you’re lonely! But I don't want you to have to be lonely anymore! I don’t think you’re a big bad wolf! You’re- you’re a big good wolf! You’re strong and gentle and- I can’t believe I’m saying this- you are really attractive!”
What.
The.
Folk.
“Oh my fairy godmother.” Your hands flew to your face as you knelt to the ground, unable to process your outburst. “I want to die. Again.”
“I love you too.”
You looked up. “What?”
“I love you too.” Death looked down with a smirk. He bent down, elbows on his knees. His smirk softened to a smile as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “I know what you were trying to say. Thank you… I needed that.” He hesitated. And then he kissed your forehead, gentle and sweet.
The red thread seemed to come alive and your entire body felt like it was burning, but in the best way possible. Without thinking, you grabbed the string and tugged it down, leading Death to your lips. He didn’t object. And for however long that kiss lasted, you finally felt alive again. You could smell the dirt and seabrine in his fur, soft and cold under your hands. You felt the phantom sensations of your heart racing. He was tender and soft, though as you both pulled away, you could see a hungry look in his eyes, as if he were ready to devour you in an instant.
God, you wanted to kiss him again.
“We better get going,” you coughed, rising to your feet quickly.
Death followed suit. “Certainly.”
The two of you walked out of the house and into the street. Death didn’t put on his hood. But your hand did find its way into his. He gave it a small squeeze.
“I love you, Muerte.” You said quietly when you reached the edge of town. The two of you stopped. Dusk was quickly settling down over the seaside town. The two of you stood on the edge of the main road. He gave you a long look, red eyes cutting through the dark. “Do you believe we’re soulmates?”
“I do.”
He said this without hesitation or doubt. And by the look in his eyes, you knew he believed it.
==x==x==
“I must say though, I’m surprised you find me attractive. I didn’t think I’d be your type.”
“Please. I don’t want to die another time out of shame.”
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padawansuggest · 1 year
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Hey so if you’re new here and haven’t been around longer than ten minutes you might not know that my fave fave fave tropes ever are 1: time travel and 2: Obi-Wan getting adopted by Mandos, so whenever I find a time travel fic where Obi goes back in time and is promptly adopted by Mandos I get so excited trust me there are a lot but rn what I really really really want is a fic where I combine one of my fave headcanon type things that I like to put in fics with my second fave trope being Force Sensitive Jaster Mereel and then combined with Obi-Wan and Anakin (and probably Shmi too lmao let’s have a force sensitive babies party here) as force ghosts with Jaster and suddenly one of them comes back all ‘YALL I KNOW HOW TO GO BACK IN TIME I FIGURED IT OUT’ and so they all go back in time with the pure goal of saving their peoples (Mandos, Jedi AND slaves okay we makin a trifecta of people who got the worst bullshit in Star Wars two of which got all the blame when literally all of it was Sith and slavers faults) and Jaster goes back in time to Korda 6 and looks around for Jango so they could retreat only for little grunts of ouchies I fell to happen and he looks over to see a small pile of toddlers Obi-Wan, Anakin, Shmi, (Boba and like six other clones you know I have to) and is all ‘oh shit. Please be potty trained please be potty trained please be potty trained’ and now he has to go find Jango to call them back to their ships and tell Jango he in fact has a bunch of new vod’ika all of whom still have adult memories and also can you hold Boba please he’s a crying mess he just wants Jango nvm you can be that one’s Buir he bites lmao NO DONT HOLD HIM LIKE THAT JANIKA I RAISED YOU BETTER and now they’re back to Mandalore and Jaster is all ‘shit. We made this plan to save ALL our peoples. Well fuck.’ And now he’s all wait a sec and calls up the Jedi (yes they had him on hold for 3 hours and he kept bouncing between departments it was very annoying with Obi-Wan’s little fangies teething on his vambraces making the most annoying sound ever the whole time) and now he’s able to sorta blank for a solid 30 seconds before blurting out that they have force sensitive babies and the Jedi can’t have them and then Anakin HANGS UP ON THEM YOU LIL SHIT THAT DIDNT SOUND GOOD and the Jedi sorta like text him back all ‘??? Good for you???’ And now Jaster has to call them again and explain that he needs help with these lil shits teething on his armor and throwing people into walls when they sneeze and the temple is all ‘listen we can send out a master with docs but we’re a lil busy looking for a Stewjoni initiate that disappeared from the nursery’ ‘oh you mean this one?’ *holds up Obi by an ankle who’s chewing furiously on a vambrace’ and says they can’t have him back the kara gave him that baby!!!!! So now they have to send out a team whereupon Plo and Dooku are suckered into a -three way with Jaster- a deal upon which the Mandos will help the Jedi leave the Republic who use them like attack dogs and then they can stop slavery together and raise babies!
Anyways. I just think that would be neat.
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foggyfanfic · 2 months
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Camilo Analysis
Bruh, who even is Camilo? He is arguably the Madrigal we get the least real characterization for, other than Teenage Boy, which is a very broad category of person. So as per usual, it helps me to get my thoughts in order if I write this stuff down.
First, Mirabel introduces Camilo through song and we right of way see him shapeshift into a young mother so he can sooth her baby while she takes a nap. That's actually a really great way to imply several things about his character (oh my god guys, this movie is so well written).
Thoughtful enough to offer a new mom a chance to rest
Comfortable caring for infants (probs helped care for Antonio?)
More patient than I would have thought, because taking care of a baby while the mother rests is not a quick and easy favor
Sort of implies that he likes kids
Then Mirabel sings he "won't stop until he makes you smile today" while he turns into multiple people and doing goofy stuff. Everybody already knows he's an entertainer at heart but I gotta add it to the list anyways.
5. Likes making people laugh
6. Plays around with his gift a lot
Moving on to Antonio's party, he's the guy greeting all the villagers by name, and he changes his energy to match each person.
7. Knows a lot of the villagers
8. Charming and personable
9. Respects his elders (kisses the old woman on the cheek)
He jokes around with Antonio, probably in an attempt to soothe his nerves, and teases his Pa. This reinforces points one, four, five and six. If this was a different list, I would talk about what it means that Camilo is clearly comfortable teasing his father, despite the seemingly stern reaction Félix has, but I digress.
He stands with Julieta while Antonio and Mirabel walk to the door, giving birth to a lot headcanons about them being especially close, and I'm going to roll with it.
10. Of his siblings, he's closest to Julieta.
Then he's very excited for Antonio as he discovers his room, it's actually the happiest we see him in the movie (other than perhaps when he's dancing in We Don't Talk About Bruno). So:
11. Supportive? Or maybe just enjoys seeing other people happy?
Plot happens, fast forward to breakfast when he pretends to be Dolores so he can get double the food. Then teases Isabela about Mariano, something he does a lot in the movie.
12. Likes food.
13. In his Little Shit era
Fast forward some more, all the way to We Don't Talk About Bruno. He absolutely kills it, and clearly enjoys the whole production. If you're like me and you headcanon that the musical numbers happen in universe then we can conclude:
13.5. Fucking loves living in a musical
And if you headcanon they don't:
14. Enjoys telling stories.
15. Probably hasn't thought through the consequences of telling everybody his Tío is a seven foot tall boogy man that feasts on screams. Which is very normal for a fifteen year old boy.
Teases Isabela about Mariano again. More plot happens. Time For Dinner. Dolores gossips to him as soon as she can, then he immediately gossips to his Pá. When Félix accidentally spits his drink onto Mariano, Camilo has to hold in a laugh. It's possible he doesn't really like Mariano, he keeps making jokes about the guy, at the very least he doesn't take him seriously. I wonder if he's the sort of guy that prefers to hang out with women?
16. Close to his sister.
17. Close to his father.
18. Shapeshifts reflexively/accidentally.
More plot. We see him try to soothe his mother.
19. Takes care of his Má. Pepa is literally unable to hide her emotions, so it would make sense that, through no real fault of her own, the kids slowly learn to take care of her as they grow up. The squeaky wheel gets the grease and all. On the flip side, the fact that sun beams come out whenever they get home from school or learn a new skill probs means the kids can never doubt that Pepa loves them. Plus, she likely has the easiest time transitioning from a parent-child relationship to a parent-adult offspring relationship of all the adults. So Camilo might be growing closer to his Má as he gets closer to adulthood.
The longer the plot goes on the less we see him. He's clearly frustrated with his gift glitching on him, but that doesn't really tell me much. It's a situation that would frustrate anyone and they don't show us how he handles those negative emotions. They also don't show us how he handles hearing the end of Mirabel's and Abuela's argument. Rude. They do show us him leaping to the candle's aid while the house crashes down around him so clearly:
20. Sees the Miracle as more important than his own safety.
The house falls, the candle goes out, in the background we hear him first remark on his gift being gone, then wonder how this will effect his little brother. We already know he enjoys using his gift, I can theorize he's made Being a Shapeshifter an important part of his identity, but all we have that's concrete is:
21: He doesn't just enjoy his gift, it is important to him.
22. Empathetic.
Mirabel runs off, resolution happens, Mirabel comes back. He is the one who cuts through the reunion to point out their house is gone, and even gets a little exasperated when he catches a bit of flack from Félix.
23. Not an optimist. Might be a pessimist, but most likely just not particularly sentimental.
For the rest of the scene he exists in a state of confusion. The hits start coming and they don't stop coming. Apparently Tío Bruno is just suddenly back now? And it kind of seems like half the family isn't surprised or asking any questions?! There's not a lot of conclusions I can draw from him being shocked and confused that Bruno just sort of appeared out of nowhere, I think most people would be. And unlike the parents or the older cousins, he doesn't have enough memories from when Bruno was around to be swept up in the joy of seeing him again. His reaction is relatable and endearing, but not very revealing.
The last character moment we get is when he tries to twirl the shovel around all fancy, almost drops it, then checks to make sure Mirabel wasn't watching. It reinforces things already mentioned, like him being showy, and wanting to entertain those around him, but also:
24. Wants to be seen as cool. Another very normal trait for a teenage boy.
It is interesting that the first person he looks at is Mirabel, I can't help but wonder if that would have been the case at the beginning of the movie. There's room for interpretation there, but regardless, by the end of the movie:
25. Respects Mirabel's opinion.
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 years
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Hi i hope you're doing well
Can i request A Hawks with a Darling That has a Quirk called "Angel wings" they can manifest 6 wings(they are also Bigger than his)
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Warnings: reader has Stockholm Syndrome, talks about heights; if you have a fear of heights, don’t read; tracking device, and bird traits (slightly nsfw towards the end, tried to keep it as sfw). 
Authors note: Of course!! This was so incredibly fun to write; sorry if it’s short, i wrote this real quick while eating dinner. Feel free to request again, ☺️
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He thinks it’s so cool!! He's extremely happy that someone relates to him about the struggles with wings: how annoying small rooms are, how people are touchy with your wings, and the chilly air brushing through your hair while you fly. 
Now, he only has two wings, but you? His most angelic and squishable darling, who has six of them? You are hardcore. He’ll be asking a lot of questions, even if he knows the answer: “Do you... lay eggs?” -- “How many feathers do you shed per month?” -- “How much do they weigh? Wait! Can you carry me with them?”
He loves to help you groom them, clipping off the damages/non-usable ones and makes sure to be as gentle as he can. Keigo will also pry in the showers with you, wanting to wash your wings as they are huge; I mean, you can’t get all of the dirt and dust off with one quick shower, why not have two more hands who can help you better? 
When you preen, he will there, helping you sort them out. Your feathers uneven and uncomfortable? He’ll gladly rearrange them to a perfect order, making sure to press light kisses on the wings when he’s done. Having a bad back day? Don’t worry! You sweet winged-husband has back and wing lotion ready when he gets home, ordering your favorite take-out. You have scratches in the middle of your wings and can’t reach it? He’s there to help you, itching it while blowing on your wings to see them flap. 
This man uses the nicknames ‘angel’, sparrow, birdy, darling, and precious; if he’s in a teasing mood, he’ll call you his chicken nugget. 
Keigo loves to touch your pretty wings, brushing his calloused fingers through the silky white feathers. Not only will he ask to lay on them, but have the ability to smoother his face in them. 
Once he knows it’s ‘safe for you’ to leave the shared home of yours, both of you will be going on flying-trips and hang out on high buildings. Though, don’t roam too far, Hawks implanted a chip into your wings and if he sees you fly past the ‘barrier’ he set for you? He’s gonna be a bit upset.
When your feathers fall, which is normal, he will collect them and put them in a safe-keeping box in the closet near your bed; after a while, he will start to leave his feathers around on purpose, hoping you’ll take them and do the same thing.
Cuddling is quite a mess, but it works in the end. Hawks absolutely loves to be held, especially after a hard day of working; the moment your wings wrap around his, blocking out anything outside of view and the small talks you two do, it makes him feel all butterflies inside. Though, don’t be surprised to wake up in the morning, him clinging onto you like a koala... naked. 
The slight bird traits you both share make his heart speed a bit. Whenever you flap your wings or coo when you’re excited, how your feathers slightly sharpen when your annoyed, or when you stare at something a bit too long, examining the object whilst cocking your head. 
Wing and face-care routines! You bet that he’ll be massaging special oils onto your wings, digging gently into the muscles as he tickles your cheek with his own feathers. 
If you do have a rut, he’ll be taking good care of you; watching how your behavior changes, your scent, and stress level highs up. He’ll request a total month off, saying it’s a ‘family emergency’.  
Thank you so much for requesting!!
Here's my masterlist for more content. Stay well!
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lu-vin-it · 2 years
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𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
𝗕𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 33, but there is some dialogue not counted.
𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘀 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱: All (Any time theres a pronouns used it says he/she/they)! <3
A/N: Has some cliches *swoons* also not proofread so if you see any mistakes lmk
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Okay so I was thinking this is like 7th year, and James is starting to lose hope on Lily.
The christmas ball is announced and he asks her and she says no so he asks her again and she says no and he ends up giving up around the fourth try
So he goes to the ball alone just sort of hanging out with Remus and Sirius who went together
You always sort of kept a low profile at school, you were a Hufflepuff and never really stood out
You got good grades, never had detention, etc
You had a few friends, and of course your best friend, Manon
She was the one to convince you to not only go all out for the Christmas ball but also to even go.
“Please, Y/N! It’d be so fun, we’ll be together the entire time, and we’ll dance together, and gossip, and- oh my merlin- who else am I going to criticize others with?” She begged, literally on her knees in front of the couch you were reading on.
“I don’t know, Manon, I’d have to buy (a) dress/dress robes and I’d probably never even wear it/them again so…”
“So you can rent one/some! I’ll help you get some that make you the best dressed there! And you’ll shock people, and then you’ll get asked to dance, oh my.. this is an amazing idea.. please, Y/N!” You take one look at her and cave, letting out a big sigh, you nod.
“Okay, fine, we can do it.”
“Fuck yes!”
Okay so time skip to the night of the ball
Manon leaves ahead of you so you can have a dramatic, cliche, entrance
And when you do, all eyes are on you
You look unrecognizable
James’ eyes are among those eyes and he pretty much falls in love with you as soon as he sees you.
He walks up to you and you guys kinda immediately click
Like have you ever met someone who is like your perfect fit??
You guys were like jelly on toast
Super cliche thing to say but like yknow
You guys dance a bunch and you dont even really talk to anyone else except Manon when she’s leaving and asks if you’re going to go with her
You didn’t.. obviously..
You and James danced, laughed, and talked all night
You guys were some of the last to leave
James walked you back to your common room and he doesn’t make a move or anything but you sorta do
You, on a whim, kiss him on the cheek before leaving him looking like a fool in the hall
When the door closes he literally freaks out
Like that boy has been pining over the same girl for the past six years and he hasnt even thought of anyone else so I am a FIRM believer that boy is touch starved.
He makes his jolly little way back to his dorm
The next morning he is like happily whistling and Sirius is like 🤨🤨
So he of course interrogates him at breakfast.
“Alright, this has gone on long enough. What did you do to make you this excited?” Sirius asked, leaning into his best friend.
“What? Am I not allowed to just be in a good mood?”
“No you’re not. It’s 9 in the morning and you were out till 2!”
“Well let’s just say maybe I do have some moves.” He smugly replies, smirking. Sirius dramatically gasps and grabs his heart.
“Lily finally gave in?” James scrunches up his face.
“What? No. Y/N L/N. The person of my dreams.”
Sirius has like no clue who you are even after James describes you in great detail.
You’re the topic of their conversation for the rest of the day.
Speaking of the day, James is looking out for you whenever he can but doesn’t really see you until he sees you and Manon come into the great hall for dinner.
“Holy shiiiiiiit. There she/he/they is/are! How do I look?” James asks, turning to Remus, who will be the bluntest out of all his friends.
“Your hair is sticking out every where.”
“Perfect!”
James gets up and walks over to you and Manon winks at you and then sits down.
“Why hello there Y/N! Fancy seeing you here.” James says dawning a smirk.
“It’s the Great Hall.” You giggle. The brunette boy stares at you blankly.
“Oh. Yeah. How was your day?”
“It was alright. I keep almost falling asleep though. Someone kept me up after all.” You grin at each other.
“I bet he was very charming.”
“He sure was! I had a great time last night.”
“He probably did too. He’s also probably wondering if you would want to go to Hogsmseade with him on Saturday.” This flusters you.
“Hm.. well if you happen to see him, let him know he could probably pick me up at 11.”
“I will!” James leans down and kisses your cheek. “Have a good dinner. I’ll see you Saturday!” You laugh as he jogs back to his table.
He goes back to his table to celebrate with his friends and you just watch fondly as you go to sit with Manon.
Over all, the boy is smitten.
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗜 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ꨄ
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scwheeler · 2 years
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🏹 ˖ ࣪⊹ — past tense
pairing: mike wheeler x fem!reader
summary: you’ve had a crush on mike wheeler since birth, however he’s never been too fond of you. but high schools coming up and after a few events, you finally get over mike but how the tables turn…
warnings: asshole mike 🖕🖕🖕
age of pairing: 15-16
a/n: this was originally the flipped fic i made first but i changed it up a little and was just bored ALSO IT BARELY MAKES SENSE LOL
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june 24th, 1981
you had just finished your third lap around the neighborhood on your bike. it was summer yet the heat was bearable, at least to be outside before two p.m. or else you had to smother yourself with sunscreen to prevent getting burned. you thought it was a good idea to head home now as you biked around the corner to see your familiar washed down yellow house.
what was unfamiliar was the three white moving trucks pulling up the house next to yours. it was a large white house that had been empty for some time now. you expected some elderly couple or family of like eight kids to move in. but as you parked your bike on the driveway of your house, you walked towards one of the trucks that had people in it.
there was a little boy with dark hair and a navy jacket on. it was summer and he was wearing a jacket? who was this kid? he had his back turned to you, making you more curious. you started to jog to him and a man who was giving him brown cardboard boxes bigger than his torso. it was probably his dad. he had thick glasses and a come over like most guys you saw at the grocery market and shopping mall.
they were in the moving truck and moving around boxes so you jumped in, “hi! you need some help?” you reached for one of the boxes that had a red label ‘FRAGILE’ which you disregarded. “whoa there, that’s some heavy stuff, why don’t you head on home little girl,” he shooed you away and put a foot on the box you were reaching for, preventing you from carrying it.
you didn’t take it personally, lots of people probably don’t want a strange girl taking their belongings. “hey dad—” the boy peered into the moving truck where you and his dad stood. he stopped himself once his eyes laid on you. he seemed scared more than friendly. 
he had a band-aid on his chin and freckles on his cheeks. he wore a stripped collar shirt under his jacket and plain khaki pants, reaching all the way to his black sneakers. wow was he dressed for winter! you were paying too much attention to what he was wearing you didn’t even realize he was speaking.
you only looked at his face. once your eyes met his, you knew this boy was going to be yours. no matter what.
august 16th, 1981
“—and when we got there it was the beach, like everywhere!” your classmate carly kept talking about her trip to california as the rest of the girls listened in awe. living in hawkins had its perks sometimes but not having a beach was not one of them. however you didn’t really care about what she did or what she was saying.
it was the first day of fifth grade and the only thing you were excited for was the teacher to bring in the new student. your next door neighbor, mike wheeler. throughout the hot summer days, he was the only thing that made those days hotter. you felt your cheeks warm up whenever he would reluctantly knock on your door to drop off a pie or any treat his mom was baking that week.
those days were the days you waited all week for. every friday evening you would look your best, wearing your hair in the cutest ways and putting on the clean clothes fresh out of the laundry so you could smell the sweet flower scent. you would also prevent anymore else from approaching the door.
you stood next to the door, in front of the mirror adjusting your hair while waiting for him to arrive at about seven to knock on the front door. you would wait exactly six seconds so he wouldn’t realize that you were literally waiting on hand and foot for him.
what you didn’t know was he basically saw you through the small side window, standing there counting in your head until finally deciding to get the door. he thought it was weird. he thought you were weird. when his mom would nag him weekly to take a new baked treat over to your house, he thought he was getting punished.
he would have to go all the way down the stairs and get the plate or tin and walk over to your house next door. he complained that the walk felt like a whole marathon when in reality it was only about twenty steps maximum. then he would knock on the door not even bothering to press the doorbell because you had probably had touched it.
he would watch you wait like ten seconds until finally answering the door with a bright smile and thank him a million times. he would keep a straight face and just nod, not one word coming out of his mouth during the last six weeks he’s been doing this.
you would always take any chance to play with him. if he was outside about to get on his bike, you would rush outside without a care in the world if you stumbled down the stairs or hit your knee on a stair. but the instant you would get on your bike, you saw him peddling away like he was trying to get away from zombies. you thought he was going to go meet someone or had something to do, like being the newspaper boy? so you didn’t mind it.
sometimes when you felt like it (basically always) you would get on your bike and chase him, following where he was going. he was just going in laps like you did which meant technically he couldn’t say this following because you were just a fellow neighborhood kid riding their bike around.
you tried your hardest to catch up to him, so you could chat with him or even go somewhere with him but you didn’t know if it was if he had iron lungs and mechanical legs or because he always had a head start, his back would always be turned.
beginning school was the next dreaded thing mike was worried for. not because it’s a new school and he didn’t know anyone. he did know someone, you. mainly that was why he dreaded it. he would have to pass the halls and avoid you to the fullest. what if he ended up with the same teacher as you? then he knew he’d be screwed.
“everyone, this is michael wheeler. i’d like you guys to be nice and respectful to him, please sit down beside y/n. y/n raise your hand,” the teacher spoke carefully and guided him towards you who had a hand up as if there was a star to be reached. ‘how could the universe love you so much!’ you thought.
how could the universe hate him so much, mike thought.
he walked towards his seat that was sat to the right of you. you watched as he slowly sat down and pulled out a blue notebook, the same as yours. yours had a few peeled off sticker residue and markings from previous pens and pencils but it was the same alright.
mike didn’t spare you or your desk a glance to notice so you thought it’d be best to let him know. while the teachers back was turned and faced the blackboard to write down the agenda, you leaned to your right side. “mike—mike, look we’re matching!” he looked at you holding up your notebook like the nobel piece prize and groaned.
not the reaction you expected but it was mike wheeler after all. he would always find a way to avoid you but you were already there. he was hiding and you were next to him. almost attached! for the rest of the day, he looked away from you, facing his right side instead of his left where you sat.
he was talking to lucas and will, two boys who sat near him as well. you’ve never talked to them before even though you spent the last four years of school with them. they seemed weird, not like geeky weird, but like they couldn’t hold a conversation with you. maybe it was early puberty?
either way, you sat in silence. looking at the board but stealing a few glances to peek at mike from the corner of your eye. he was passing notes and laughing with the others boys. looks like he already got himself some new friends. friends that didn’t include you.
june 7th, 1984
tying your white shoelaces to your red sneakers, you entered the classroom for the last day of school. your hair was tied back into a ponytail and moved from side to side as you approached the library. you wanted to return all the books from this school year before you forgot and then finally get to enjoy the start of summer.
as you put it back onto the shelves, you overheard a familiar voice. mike. instead of walking away to spend your summer day, you leaned towards the bookshelf and waited for the boys to speak again. “people will think you’re doing charity mike!” one of the boys said. “yeah i’m not one to be mean but she’s so gross like she’s been obsessed with you forever and did you see her stupid yard?” “that piece of shit!” “shut up it’s a library shhhh,” one of them said. “mike come one be honest.”
you gripped onto the books in your arms and waited for mikes response. “yeah i would kill myself if i was seen with her,” he laughed. you immediately ran out, getting out of the school and getting on your bike. without another thought you rushed inside your house and to your room.
january 3rd, 1985
mike had made it clear he didn’t reciprocate your feelings and even though it was hard, you swallowed your emotions and decided to give up. other than the conversations you had practically forced him into, he never made the effort to talk to you. basically avoiding you for the last four years. so the last day of ninth grade you expected it to the same. and it was.
until you got home. you stood in disbelief in the middle of your kitchen as your mom spoke to you. the words “dinner at the wheelers,” sounded incorrect like you had a hearing problem. but when she repeated it, you realized it was true. “but they’ve never invited us over in like the four years they’ve lived here?” you asked and sat on at the table.
“what matters y/n, at least they’re noticing now,” your mom responded and before you could mutter ‘that’s ridiculous’ you walked out and into your room. sitting on at the desk, you stared down at your textbooks, “mike wheeler…what could he want now?” you’d eventually gotten over him, as you do with most crushes so you didn’t mind going over for dinner.
you weren’t going to be a stuttering, blushing mess and you would be polite and kind. especially to his parents and not mind him any extra attention. but why now? why after these three long years would be invite your family over?
the afternoon came sooner than you thought and you found yourself in a clean formal outfit with a homemade key-lime pie in your hand, waiting in front the mike wheeler’s door. it would be a lie if said you hadn’t been facing this door a million times. you used to come and knock on his door almost every weekend and everyday in summer, asking him to play or come over but his response was a quick decline.
at first he was nice about it, saying he had to help his mom or making up another lame excuse but than he stopped trying to even be somewhat kind about declining your offer. you could see him through the living room window, reading a book and gritting his teeth while you pressed his doorbell time after time. he would ignore you or make one of his other family members get the door, so he could avoid you at all costs.
it was disappointing to say the least but you still saw him at school. you waved to him every chance you got but after experiencing his unresponsiveness for about the seventieth time, you quit. he probably never even noticed your existence at this point!
but mike knew. he always knew, and he was different than you thought. once you stopped caring about him and knocking on his door or taking any chance to make him look at you, he realized something. he missed it, he missed you. it was now him searching for you in the class and him who stared out his bedroom window to see if you would walk over and ring the doorbell.
he didn’t like you. even if only as a friend, he would never admit it. but seeing you view him unlike before changed his mind. he liked your bright personality and your eagerness to try anything. sometimes he would sit in his room, staring at his math homework but thinking about you. how on the bus, you walked right passed him and sat next to timothee brown! crazy! everyone knew timothee was weird and no one ever would sit next to him. to seem unnoticeable, whenever someone boarded the bus, he would look at you who was looking at timothee. chatting, talking, laughing!
he would think to himself, “what was she laughing about? how could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful!” however he could only turn around and stare out the window while his friend dustin continued to talk about dnd. why was this happening to him! he hated you. he hated you. always had and always will, so why was he dreaming about you every night and imagining what you were doing during class, outside of school, while with his friends, at dinner, during homework, and even when he was watching tv!
you were like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.
a bad song.
there was a knock at his front door and as much as he wanted it to be you, his face showed different emotions. you stood with a pie in your hand and in front of his door once again. wasn’t this want he wanted? but it wasn’t. you looked forced, annoyed. how he looked whenever you would come up to talk to him.
it wasn’t like before, no immediate hugs or jumps to conversations. you walked straight to the kitchen and helped mikes mom set the table. he only watched you walk right past him and ignore him. ignore him! he finally was going to speak to you and now his time was up? it was like a video game and he had used all this lives.
you tried to kept your composure, but to be honest when he opened the door with his shaggy dark brown hair, almost a shade of black and burgundy covering down to his eyebrow and straight freshly-ironed gray collared sweater, your heart slipped almost a beat. scratch that. make that three beats.
before he could look up, you turned your attention to nancy in the background who smiled and waved to you. quickly to divert his attention, you ran inside without a hello and entered the kitchen to help with dinner. brushing past mikes shoulder, deep inside you wished you paused and said hi whcih could possibly have sparked a conversation but he never did in the past three years so why would he start now!
sitting at a wooden dinner table could never have been more awkward. your parents and his had small conversations but mostly about work and school, meaning you and mike were out of the question. luckily you turned your head to nancy and instantly started to ask her stuff about high school. she gladly responded to your questions. she was so sweet, you kept your eyes away from in front of you and to the side where she was sitting. mike who was facing you was waiting for you to be done but you had no intention of stopping.
when nancy and you finished your conversation, you went up to use the restroom twice, forgot to turn off your record player in your room, and finally dinner ended. all of these were excuses to avoid talking to mike and he clearly noticed. at the end of dinner and everyone was settled in the living room, you excused yourself to your room so you could finish your homework.
surprisingly this was true, mr. dons just handed out an essay assignment due this week and you forgot to do it. you sat on your desk, opening your cabinets to get your notebooks and grabbing a few pencils. once you wrote the first word “the,” there was a knock at your door.
“come in!” you said and assumed it was your mom bringing you a snack or to tell you the wheeler’s were finally leaving. but it wasn’t. “sorry to disturb you,” he apologized softly and approached you. you sighed, “what do you want?” he was nervous, looking around your room. he saw a small red notebook on top of your dresser, he looked back to you with your eyes glued to your papers. he carefully reached for it, “don’t touch that.” you turned around and stared at him, “seriously mike what are you doing here?”
“i just wanted to talk to you,” mike said and sat on your bed. you turned back to your homework, “well i don’t want to talk to you.” “why?” he asked, further agitating you. “because—i just don’t,” you groaned and tried focusing on the words in textbooks but you couldn’t with the presence of mike wheeler.
“i thought you liked me,” mike mumbled which finally grasped your attention. “liked.” you replied, making mike finally leave your room.
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lonesome-witching · 27 days
Text
Call Me
Whenever I have a moment time I try to finish another prompt. And today i succeeded. This one features Nancy is a famous actress and Robin as a successful singer. Enjoy! Warning, I didn't have a chance to proofread this though.
Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.
She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be anywhere except for the comfort of her own home on the 39th floor of a New York skyscraper. She was truly becoming a recluse. A hermit just as the one on the tarot card the fortune teller had placed on that tiny round table when Nancy had been six. It had been pushed to the back of her mind until her manager had accused her of being just that, a hermit.
He had been right. And so had her mother when she begged her to take her sister to this damned concert. Holly deserved this night out though. She deserved to see her favorite singer live like all these thousands of teenagers. Nancy just wished she didn’t have to take her.
But she wasn’t stupid, she knew why Holly wanted her to go with. Because Nancy could ensure one thing that no one else in her family, no one else in this venue, could. A meeting with the artist. She didn’t want to though.
“Thanks for taking me, Nancy,” Holly said for the third time as they walked to their seats, front row at the right side of the stage, almost pushed into a corner. Maybe Nancy should have tried to get them to the side of the stage where no one could see them, or at least barely anyone.
“Of course, Holly. That’s what big sisters are for.” At least she could fake a smile.
Holly smiled back, brightly. Maybe it was worth it after all. Nancy’s smile turned real. She leaned back in her seat.
“Oh my God, is that Nancy Wheeler?” a girl whispered from behind them. The smile vanished instantly.
“She looks like Nancy Wheeler,” another girl replied.
“Guys, there is no way Nancy Wheeler would be here. I heard she’s locked herself up in her apartment,” a third voice added.
“I don’t know. I read in an article the other day that she might be experimenting now that she and her boyfriend broke up.” The first voice.
“Oh, come on. Nancy Wheeler isn’t into girls.” The third voice.
“I don’t think she’s into girls either but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy a concert.” The second voice.
“I think she might be forcing something. Don’t you remember that recent interview where Robin said Nancy is her celebrity crush? This might be her response. Going like, ‘come and get me, Robin.’ I think it could be cute.” First.
“No way.” Second, with a laugh.
“You’re making up fanfiction as we speak, Ashley.” Third.
Holly turned around in her seat. “I heard that Nancy Wheeler is in Europe at the moment filming this extravagant new movie. Italy or something. It must be so exciting to be a movie star.”
Nancy sank further into her seat.
“Really? She’s in Italy?”
“I thought she was the girl next to you.”
“Her?” Holly pointed at Nancy. “Oh, no. She’s my sister, Marjorie.”
Nancy bit her bottom lip before she started laughing. She couldn’t hear what the girls replied as the lights turned low and the girls standing in front of the stage started screaming.
The truth was that Nancy didn’t know who Robin Buckley was. She had heard the name here and there, had heard of the interview the girls had mentioned, but she had never seen her face, or heard any of her songs. So, she was a little surprised when she saw the singer walk onto the stage. No, not walked. She jumped, skipped, and ran a part of the way. She nearly tripped over some wires that were taped to the stage, or maybe just over her own feet. And then she reached the microphone and started singing and Nancy was in awe.
The people around her, including her little sister blurred around her. All she could see was Robin Buckley with her raspy voice singing to her. She could imagine how a movie would portray the scene, how it would be written in a script.
A close up of Nancy shows her eyes glazed over as she watches Robin sing. The muffled sound of thousands of people screaming is overpowered by Robin’s voice.
“Isn’t she great?” Holly shouted over the music. Nancy simply nodded her head. Because she was great. She was absolutely magnificent. Her voice was magical.
When the first song ended, the second one started. Nancy stayed stuck in her trance until Robin addressed the crowd.
“New York, how are we feeling tonight?” she shouted into the microphone.
The crowd went wild, yet none of them answering the question. Nancy just stared in silence.
“Alright, can we turn the lights on? I like to see who I’ll be spending my night with.”
The lights were almost blinding. It felt like there was a spotlight on Nancy, who had the sudden urge to slide under her chair.
“You guys look beautiful tonight,” Robin said, looking from the left side of the venue to the right until her eyes landed on… Nancy. “Oh.” It was a soft little noise. Even through the speakers it was barely audible.
The girls behind Nancy started screaming even louder. Nancy worried she’d get permanent hearing loss because of them.
Robin walked towards Nancy as far as the stage would allow. “Nancy Wheeler?”
“No, that’s Marjorie!” the girls behind Nancy screamed. She wasn’t sure if Robin didn’t hear them or just didn’t believe the obvious lie. But she ignored the comment and saluted in Nancy’s direction before returning to her spot in the center of the stage. The lights dimmed once again as the next song started up.
-
“Do you think we can meet her, Nancy?”
She and Holly were already walking towards the exit. They probably could. It was the perk of being famous, you got to meet other famous people. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to meet Robin Buckley. She was just scared.
Scared to make the wrong first impression. Scared to come off as weird or freaky or socially awkward. She wasn’t sure she could make a good impression right now.
“Please, Nancy!” Holly pushed.
“Alright, we can try.” Nancy shook her head as she said it.
They turned around walking towards the back of the venue. Maybe they would be turned away. They could be turned away.
-
They weren’t turned away. Nancy didn’t fully realize that until they were dumped in Robin’s personal dressing room. Robin herself was sitting at a vanity table with a notebook in front of her and a pen in her hand. She didn’t look up when the door closed behind Nancy and Holly.
Nancy cleared her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She probably should have. With all the media training and the strangers she met. But she didn’t. She didn’t know at all.
Robin looked up into the mirror in front of her and quickly turned around. “Nancy Wheeler, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I didn’t expect you to show up to my show. If I did, I would have given you better seats for sure, you guys were pushed into a corner. Did you see everything? I never know what the audience sees from all those different angles. Did you enjoy the show? Both of you?”
“It was great! I had such a good time,” Holly said.
“Yeah, she screamed so loud my eardrums are still recovering,” Nancy spoke without thinking.
Robin laughed. “As she should. And what about you? Did you enjoy yourself, Nancy? Can I call you Nancy?”
“Yes, you can call me Nancy. And I did have a good time. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to go out like this.”
Robin smiled at her. She had a beautiful smile. She was beautiful. Even more so up close. Her blue eyes were hypnotizing. Her freckles were distracting.
“Glad to hear it. I have to be honest that when I noticed you in the audience, I got a bit scared. Or maybe not scared, I got nervous. That’s a better word for it. But I also kind of hoped you’d come say hi.” Robin was scratching the back of her neck as she spoke.
“Really? Is it because I’m your celebrity crush?” Nancy asked with a smirk on her face. Somehow it was easy to talk to Robin.
“You heard about that, huh?”
“A little birdie told me.”
“Yeah, the girls sitting behind us. They kept gossiping about Nancy and you,” Holly interjected.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I think they wanted the two of you to get together or something.”
“Holly!” Nancy said, feeling like she was losing the upper hand in the conversation, even if she wasn’t sure why she needed it in the first place.
Robin laughed again.
“Can I have an autograph?”
“Yeah, of course.” Robin walked back to the vanity to grab the pen she had dropped.
“So, what were you writing when we came in here?” Nancy asked.
“A new song.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing it.”
“And I’m looking forward to seeing your new movie. In fact, I just read you were in Italy filming.”
“Ain’t that peculiar?”
“It sure is. But I do appreciate you coming all this way just to see little old me.”
“Ask for her number,” Holly whispered.
“What?” Nancy whispered back.
“She’s flirting with you. Ask for her number.”
“She’s not flirting with me.”
“Oh, I was trying to flirt with you,” Robin admitted, handing over the piece of paper to Holly.
“Oh, you were?”
“Kind of. I mean you are my celebrity crush.” Robin smiled shyly. “But it’s fine if you are not interested. I’m already honored to have met you.”
“I am. Interested, I mean. I am interested.” She hadn’t known before. Or maybe she had.
“Oh, great,” Robin replied.
“In fact, she would really like your phone number or an address to send mail to,” Holly said.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll write down the number to my home phone and my address, but it might be easier if you gave me your number so I can call from wherever.”
“Sure.” Nancy rushed toward the vanity. Her hand touched Robin’s as she handed over the pen. “Call me.”
“I sure will. Definitely. As soon as possible.”
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