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#but he beats himself up over everything and takes everything super personally!!!
hannieehaee · 2 days
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Can you please make a seventeen reaction if a saesang hurt their s/o? lysm btw💙
a sasaeng hurting their s/o
content: mentions of an ambiguous attack on the reader (u can assume it was something like pulling at reader's arm/hair or a simple slap/punch), anger from the members, angst, fluff (kinda??), etc.
wc: 829
a/n: ily <33 i was kinda conflicted on this bc im not sure whether theyd react in an idol fashion in which they just kind of let their managers handle it or if theyd handle it themselves so i went for a mixture
masterlist
seungcheol -
he's super protective over his members, which also translates over to all his loved ones. i think he would get immediately exasperated and get all up on whoever dared hurt you, fan or not. if things got physical, he'd get physical too. however, he'd try to keep things civilized.
jeonghan -
he'd let his managers handle the sasaeng, knowing that despite how much he'd like to protect you on his own, head on, he had a lot of limitations as an idol. he'd feel extremely guilty about it and would beat himself up over it for a while. would do everything he could to make you feel protected and taken care of (even more than he already did) from then on.
joshua -
he'd be unfiltered in his arguing and his anger towards the aggressor. he wouldnt get aggressive or anything, but the venom in his eyes would be enough for a person to drop dead. would go as far as try to get the authorities involved right in that moment, promising that he'd be pressing charges on your behalf. when it came to you, he'd need you to calm him down lol.
jun -
he's so used to being mobbed and to people injuring themselves due to this that he wouldn't even be surprised at this happening. this wouldnt mean that he wouldn't be insanely angry though lmao. he'd curse them out in chinese and start a whole scene if necessary. this person was not going to leave this situation unscathed.
soonyoung -
his emotions usually take over him very easily and i believe in such an instance anger would show clearly in his demeanor. he'd protectively hold you behind him as he cursed and antagonized the sasaeng while his managers attempted to alleviate the situation. there would be anger in his eyes that you'd never seen before, but it'd turn into worry and regret as soon as he met your eyes.
wonwoo -
usually when he's being crowded or fans are too close, his body language seems closed off and unwelcoming to all the unwarranted attention, but in this instance i think his fight or flight mode would activate, making him physically place himself between you and the aggressor. rare instance in which anyone would see wonwoo genuinely angry.
jihoon -
he'd be too shocked to react, only realizing what had happened after the fact. kinda out of character, but i think he'd have to be held back from taking matters into his own hands. would be furious at the blatant disrespect to both you and him. how could a fan ever lay hand on you? he'd remain disappointed in his fandom for a while, keeping himself (and you) away from the limelight for a short period of time.
seokmin -
for once in his life, the only emotion taking over him was pure unfiltered anger. BUT he would 100% prioritize checking in on you and keeping his hands and eyes on you to make sure you were okay. would let his managers take care of the situation and simply stare down the perpetrator with venom in his eyes. would be extremely apologetic to you afterwards and express guilt over and over.
mingyu -
he's shown many times before he's not afraid to tell fans to mind their boundaries before, so i think that in a serious situation in which you were being put in danger, he'd become extremely serious to a scary extent. he would not get physical or anything like that, but he'd use his words and stance to intimidate the crazed fan.
minghao -
extremely serious and put off. the moment someone laid hands on you, his body would take control of itself and put himself between you and any danger. he'd yell and curse at whoever dared cross such a boundary and disrespect both you and him in such a way. he'd hold certain disdain for fans crossing boundaries from then on.
seungkwan -
he's too polite and media trained to actually participate in the altercation, but anyone could see the genuine anger trying to filter out of him as he and his body guards tried to deal with the situation. his first priority would be you and making sure you weren't too hurt.
vernon -
he wouldve been too shocked in the moment to do anything, but as soon as the short-lived attack ended and his managers were already apprehending the perpetrator, he'd scoff and curse at whoever hurt you. there would be this unknown craze in his eyes indicating uncharacteristic anger that could only ever be provoked by such a situation.
chan -
insanely angry and frustrated at the situation. in an ideal world, he'd take care of this situation on his own, proving to you that he'd never let anyone hurt you. however, he knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his managers apprehend the aggressor while he checked in on you and made sure you were okay and as far away from the situation as possible.
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sweetbbarnes · 11 months
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Can't hurt me
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part II [coming soon]
Pairing: Neighbor!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're the one that takes care of Bucky after missions, only this time he asks for a different kind of relief.
Warnings: descriptions of blood and injuries; Bucky being needy and begging; a tiiiiny bit of angst because Bucky doesn't really care about his wellbeing; SMUT, +18 ONLY, MINORS DNI; smut while injured; shower makeout; oral (m and f receiving); cum eating; handjob; fingering; a lot of feelings here; pls let me know if I forgot something
A/N: I'm really sorry about the shitty ending, it took me three days to think about it and I couldn't come up with anything so it is what it is, but I promise I'll make up for it in part two.
If you like this fic, please let me know :)
When the Winter Soldier himself, or the man formerly known as him, moved to the apartment across from yours, you were the only person in the whole building who didn’t ignore his presence. Of course, you and Bucky Barnes weren't best friends. During the first month of his moving in you would merely exchange polite greetings when you crossed paths in the hallway, but at least you didn’t immediately flinch and/or look away as soon as you saw him. Sometimes he even attempted some compliments, as he was still trying to rediscover the charming soldier he once was, but that was it.
At least until the day you came home to discover your supersoldier neighbor sitting in front of his door, drenched in blood and barely clinging to life.
As you approached your apartment door, your heart skipped a beat at the sight that unfolded before you. There, in front of his own door, sat Bucky, his figure hunched over, covered in a chilling crimson. Panic surged through your veins as you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him.
"Hello? Hey, Bucky!" You snapped your fingers in front of his face, desperate to rouse him from his dazed state. But all you received was a feeble murmur in response. Panic washed over you. "Oh shit, you're... Oh, gosh. Fuck."
Frantically, you rummaged through your bag, searching for your phone to call an ambulance. Your trembling fingers made the task of finding it more difficult, but after a moment of frantic searching, you finally located the device. Your hands shook as you dialed the emergency number, your voice trembling with urgency.
"I'm calling an ambulance right now," you reassured Bucky, your voice laced with concern. "We'll get you to the hospital, and everything will be alright. Just hold on."
But you were about to hit the call button, you felt a firm grip on your wrist, cold vibranium fingers encircling you. Startled, you looked at Bucky, confusion etched on your face.
"No hospital," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
"Barnes, sir? Sergeant-" Unsure of what to call him in this moment, you cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. "You're... you're seriously injured. You need medical help. It's okay, they can-"
"I'm not dying," he interrupted, mustering a firmer tone. "No hospital."
You hesitated, torn between your instinct to seek professional medical assistance and Bucky's adamant refusal. With concern etched on your face, you watched as he took the phone from your hand and gently placed it back into your bag.
"So what do we do then?" you asked, a mix of worry and confusion in your voice. "Have you seen yourself? You're covered in blood-"
"The serum will help," he managed to say, his voice strained. "Just... just let me rest."
You vaguely remembered reading about the super soldier serum and how it enhances healing abilities. While unsure of the extent to which it applied in this situation, you decided to trust him, realizing that he probably knows more of his own condition than you do.
"Alright then," you relented, your voice still filled with concern. "But let's at least get you inside. We'll find a way to make you comfortable. Can you try to get up? I'll help you."
With a mix of determination and concern, you carefully offered Bucky your hand, guiding the barely alive man to your couch.
The next day, Bucky woke up feeling a lot better, and you were glad. After you made him coffee, Bucky addressed the blood-stained couch situation and as much as you assured him you could clean it, he didn’t leave your apartment until you agreed to let him take you to a store so he could buy you a new one. “It’s the least I can do, doll,” he said, and you chuckled at the unusual pet name. With the new couch in the living room, you pestered Bucky until he agreed to inaugurate the furniture with you. So on a Wednesday night, he brought some snacks and you two watched The Hobbit, then proceeded to stay up until early-hours talking because Bucky, as the huge nerd he is, had to point out every single difference he recalled from the book - which he proudly announced he’d read in 1937, when it first came out. You didn’t complain, though, it was kinda nice to see this side of the man you only knew through the news and people’s opinions.
Next you knew, you two were inseparable. You quickly learned that Bucky needs a routine, so Wednesday’s nights became movie nights, and Sunday afternoons became dedicated to reading sessions together, then Tuesday mornings were designated as "breakfast with Bucky" time. Soon, there wasn't a single day when Bucky didn't show up in your living room. Your apartment became his second home. You became his second home - though you didn’t know that.
But of course, Bucky’s life wasn’t simple like that, and as much as he cherished your friendship, there are some things that he can’t control. Oftentimes, Bucky would come home in the same state he was on that first day, and although the sight started to become strangely familiar, it never ceased to break your heart. That’s why every time he showed up battered and bruised, you’d take him in and patch him up. You both know you don’t have to, and Bucky tried to convince you countless times that he just needed to rest, that the serum would do all the work, but you didn’t listen. You clean his wounds and stitch him up because that’s the only way you found to tell him that you care, and Bucky willingly lets you do it because he knows it eases the concern you feel about his dangerous lifestyle. So you’re the one Bucky seeks right after week-long missions or brutal battles, if not to help patch him up then just to let you know that he’s okay.
Tonight is one of those nights. When he knocked on your door at 3 am, the disheartening sight of Bucky, once again drenched in blood, almost made you collapse to your knees and plead for him to stay out of fights, to do something else, to stay in your living room and never leave again. But war is all Bucky knows, and as much as you recognize the unfortunate reality of the situation, you don't want to take away one of the few things that gives him a sense of familiarity in this modern world, so you swallowed the overwhelming urge, like you do every time, and helped him get to your bathroom.
The chamomilla scented steam invades your nostrils as you use the soap to gently wash all the blood away. You feel Bucky’s muscles slowly relaxing under the warm cascade of water, and he lets some relieved sounds escape through his lips. If someone had told you months ago that you would eventually find yourself in this very situation, you would have scoffed in disbelief, yet here you are now. You’re not really sure what you did to earn Bucky's trust to such an extent that he feels comfortable being so vulnerable with you, and the thought brings a dangerous warmth to your chest.
These showers are always innocent. You help Bucky clean the blood, leaving the intimate parts for him to clean, and then you take care of his wounds. It’s tender and respectful. But Bucky is not exactly the ugliest man you’ve seen and, well, you’re only human. Sometimes, it gets hard to ignore those not-so-innocent thoughts your brain insists on having. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself - the man is dripping blood on your bathroom floor and there you are, thinking all those nasty things, wanting to touch him in a way you’re not even sure he wants to be touched by you.
Little do you know, Bucky struggles just as much as you do in managing his own thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, he has to stop you from rubbing your hands too much around his torso, because he’s scared he’s not gonna be able to control himself if you keep going. It’s torture, but at the same time he can’t bring himself to stop coming here every time he gets injured. He could stop. He could stay away for a few more days after missions, just enough time for the serum to do its magic and he doesn’t have to go through this, but he can’t. Because everytime he gets injured, he finds himself looking forward to your touch. He barely cares about the pain anymore, because he knows he’ll get to feel your silky skin against his, even if it’s just for brief moments. So usually, he comes back and lets you do your thing while he makes a hell of an effort not to stare at your peaked nipples through your wet shirt - Bucky doesn’t know if he should be upset or glad that you don’t take your clothes off, because seeing you naked would probable make the task impossible, but it’s not like he doesn’t want to - and holds himself back from returning each and every touch you give him, in a very specific, very not-innocent way. 
Usually. But today is different.
Today, Bucky was reminded that his wounds go way beyond the ones on his skin. Today the soldier needs another kind of care, one that’s a little bit more effective for his pain than bandages and stitches. And, honestly, he’s a bit tired of holding himself back. That’s why, without warning, he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you a little bit closer so he can rest his head on the top of your shoulder. You don’t move for some time, which makes him doubt his action, but soon he hears your gentle voice.
“We’re almost finished, and then you can rest.” You say, placing your hands and his back to hug him, but not applying pressure on the bruises.
“I need you.” He says, his mouth on your neck sending vibrations through the area and making a shudder travel down your body. “Need you to take care of me.”
“I am taking care of you, Buck.” You manage to say, fighting the urge to glue your body on his. He’s in pain, you have to remind yourself.
But he tilts his head back, cupping your face with his flesh hand so you don’t take your eyes off of him. “Not like this,” he whispers.
For a moment, you simply stay there, suspended in time, lost in the intensity of the moment. His proximity sends a shiver down your spine as you hear Bucky's heartbeat racing, and you're acutely aware of the weight of his gaze on your face. You can see the pain etched in his features, but there's something else there too, something that makes your heart skip a beat. It's a raw, unfiltered emotion that you can't quite put into words, but it's there, simmering just beneath the surface.
The more you look into his eyes, the more you understand. The person in front of you is a broken man, momentarily defeated by the demons that come to haunt him ever so often, and his eyes are begging you to make those demons go away. He’s asking you to give him the only thing that could possibly make him forget this pain that is so much worse than the bloody cuts, to fill his senses with the only sensation stronger than the fear that's been luring behind his eyes ever since he stepped foot in your apartment tonight.
You gently place a hand on his cheek. His body tenses at your touch, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he relaxes, leaning into your hand as if you’re the only thing that can offer him solace right now.
"I don't want to make it worse," you whisper softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
"You can't," he whispers back. "Many things... and many people may hurt me, but not you. Never you."
Bucky's words hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of his complete - almost blind - trust is overwhelming. He had been through so much, faced so many torture and pain, yet here he is, willing to give you all that’s left of his trust.
“Please,” is the only thing he whispers, but it’s enough. Slowly, you raise another hand to his face and bring your lips to his. The kiss is tender, carrying an air of uncertainty, as if exploring uncharted territory. It holds the unmistakable essence of something new and unfamiliar, yet it overflows with raw and intense emotion.
“We still have to finish cleaning you up.” You say, breaking the kiss, and Bucky attaches his mouth to your neck, giving you permission to continue doing your thing.
Bucky gives you small kisses as you continue to cleanse his torso with soap, trying to avoid applying pressure on his still open bruises. You focus on each area with care, gently wiping away any dirt or blood while checking to ensure that he is comfortable throughout the process. As you rub the soap all over his body, Bucky starts caressing your hips, slowly going up and exploring your body like he always wanted to do. He can feel your stomach trembling with his touches and kisses, and it almost makes him go feral.
“Do you like this shirt?” He whispers in your ear.
“Why-” but before you can even think about your question, impatient as always, Bucky tears your old shirt in half, ending the outrageous fabric that was separating him from his greatest desire. You don’t care, though, because Bucky’s clear desperation only turns you on more.
“I’ll buy you another one.” He mumbles, but you’re not sure he’s paying attention to his words.
Continuing your work, you pay special attention to the intricate details of his vibranium arm, taking your time to meticulously clean between the plates from his fingers all the way up to his shoulder - careful not to miss a single spot like you’ve seen him doing multiple times - while Bucky distributes lingered kisses along your jaw down to your neck, until your right nipple is inside his mouth, and you have to hold back a gasp of surprise - but, of course, Bucky’s not having that.
“Wanna hear your noises.” He whispers and lightly passes his teeth through your nipple, getting you to moan out loud this time.
Satisfied, Bucky licks his way back up until your mouth, biting your bottom lip almost too hard and then kissing you passionately soon after. His tongue invades your mouth as he swallows every single one of your breaths. Reluctantly, you break the kiss. You finish the vibranium and go back to the flesh, working on the scarred skin on his shoulder, gently rubbing the soap, then brushing your fingers, and then your lips. The blood is almost entirely gone, leaving behind only the ugly outline of his wounds, which you start kissing lightly, earning a guttural moan out of Bucky’s throat.
Slowly, you slide your soaped hand through his body until you reach his rock hard length, carefully circling your fingers around him. One pump is enough to make Bucky moan loudly.
“Fuck, doll-” but you shush him with a kiss, invading his mouth with your tongue as you pump his dick. Bucky grips your hips like his life depends on it to hold himself back from bending you over and fucking you senseless. No, he wants to enjoy the moment. He wants to learn what you like and let you take care of him how you want.
You continue kissing his cheeks, then his neck until you reach skin around his bruises and then lick the water drops down his torso until you’re on your knees in front of him, staring at his huge length in all its glory while he leans his back against the wall to remain standing.
“Well, I’m glad at least one part of your body was left untouched.” You joke, looking up at him with a playful smile.
Bucky can’t help but chuckle at that, and you notice it’s his first genuine laugh since he arrived home. Good. “Gotta protect what’s yours.”
“Mine?” You ask, just wanting to hear him say that again.
“All yours.” He smirks, completely aware of your intentions.
Before the conversation can go any further, you slide the tip of your tongue through a prominent vein along his cock, and Bucky’s words are lost in his breath. You circle your lips around his pink tip, sucking a little, and the noises he makes are like music to your years.  You proceed to slowly slide your entire tongue through his length one, two, three times, taking your sweet time while Bucky drops his head back and rolls his eyes. He raises his flesh hand to the back of your head and despite the context, his movements on your hair are gentle, like he’s somehow trying to thank you for everything, though he’s too busy moaning to say the words. You see that as an encouragement and take him deep inside your mouth, making up and down movements with your head and sucking as hard as you can while you massage his balls with your fingers. Involuntarily, he starts jerking his hips up into your throat.
“Babe, fuck-” he tries, but gets lost in the feeling when you fasten your movements.
It’s too much. The warmth, the feeling, the softness. Everything is too much, and Bucky is coming inside your mouth before he even realizes it.
“Oh, fuck- Shit, I’m sorry-” Bucky starts apologizing, but he immediately stops, watching in awe as you take a drop of cum that slipped off your mouth with your thumb and sucks it back into your mouth, swallowing everything he gave you.
Bucky helps you get up and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. You’re a little surprised when he presses two vibranium fingers in your clit, starting tiny circles. Despite the electric jolt that it sends through your spine, you hold his wrist.
“Bucky, you don’t have to,” you whisper.
“You don’t like it?” He asks against your lips.
“No, I do. It’s just-”
“Then let me make you feel good.”
You moan loudly when he inserts his two fingers inside your aching cunt, the sensation better than anything you could have ever imagined.
“So wet, baby. Is it all for me? Did you like sucking my dick that much?”
You try to say “yes”, but it sounds more like a whimper since Bucky had just found your special spot. Realizing it, he rubs his fingertips over and over again against the spongy area, and your legs start to shake. But as you’re about to warn him that you’re close, he stops.
“Not yet,” he whispers before you can complain, “wanna taste you.”
And that’s how you end up in your bed, lying naked in soaked sheets with Bucky’s face between your thighs, almost screaming as he moves his vibranium fingers in and out while sucking and licking your bundle of nerves. Soon, you feel that familiar heat in your lower belly.
“Bucky, I’m gonna-” you’re interrupted by a moan escaping through your throat.
He only hums in response, sending vibrations through your whole body and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your eyes roll back as the pleasure gets to its peak, and you feel like you’re floating while Bucky happily cleans you up, the sensation of his warm tongue touching every single part of your pussy, inside and out, riding you through your orgasm.
When you come back down from your high, Bucky’s hovering over you, a mixture of lust and gratitude taking his features. He gives you a long chaste kiss.
“Told you, you couldn’t hurt me.”
You smile at his words. “Will you let me stitch you up now?”
“What if we just…” he covers you both with your blanket and hugs you tight, “forget about the stitches?”
“Buck…”
“You know I don’t need ‘em, doll.”
“But-”
He interrupts you with a kiss. Then another. Then one more. “Just today.”
You sigh, defeated, but snuggle up inside his arms.
Bucky gives you a long kiss on the forehead, whispering a very low “thank you” before you both fall asleep.
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leovenuslatina · 19 days
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wet dreamzzz ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
THIS IS A 18+ READING. MDNI !!!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
his late night thoughts about you *wink wink*
(basically the thoughts they please themselves too🥵✊🏾💦)
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱
₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹
TW: THIS SHIT GETS WILD
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piles one - the moon, seven of swords, nine is pentacles
(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
okay so i’m seeing he’s staying up ALL night just thinking about you. you have him seriously in love i see him like making up scenarios in his head and just replaying them over and over and any sweet or romantic moments you two have he can’t stop thinking and smiling about it. i’m also seeing him replaying all the time you two have had sex he’s in love with how you look underneath him 😍. he thinks about bending you over somewhere secret like in a closet at a party or in an empty parking lot. he gets off to the thought of him having you all to himself he likes the idea that you have to rush to make each other cum before the two of you get caught. he thinks about taking you away from prying eyes and doing whatever he wants to you. he really likes bending you over okayyy he’s like so in loveeee with that ass he may even like pulling your hair while he thrusts into you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he may also think about role playing with you meeting in a bar or something and pretending like you’re strangers and having a quickie in the bathroom.
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pile two - ace of swords, wheel of fortune, eight of cups
₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎
their late night thoughts about your pile two are pretty dark and twisted 🤭 i don’t know if he’ll tell you about them because im seeing these are like deep deep secret thoughts they have they’re super depraved and thirsty for you like putting you in handcuffs and freaking you all night til you collapse. He thinks about tying you up taking full control of you he might have a fetish for like ropes and stuff he’s a huge freak god damn lmao. they think about you giving them a hand job i’m seeing he’s huge into body worship like you worshiping his dick or like they just think about you on their dick they have a fast paced mind when it comes to you one perverted thought after another. in his mind he can go as wild as possible and not worry about any sort of judgment not that he thinks you’ll judge him he just knows his freaky lil mind would make others shudder. he thinks about being real rough with you leaving hickeys and bites all over your body throwing you like his own personal sex doll. your person has a very overactive imagination.
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pile three - queen of swords, death, the hanged man
(,,>ヮ<,,)!
their late night thoughts are you just you everything about you turns them on. they think about watching you and what you look like when you’re in bliss. watching you playing with yourself watching you moan and sigh but not just that. just watching you do normal daily activities like reading or eating they are your BIGGEST simps omggg. literally just imagining your gorgeous face makes them so hard or wet it just gets them all hot and bothered. your person imagines you in a threesome if that’s not something you’re into that’s okay because these are just late demon hour thoughts lol. they probably have a huge kink about seeing you getting it on with another person. their kink is your delight so the thoughts that filled their mind are not entirely dirty i wouldnt be surprised if he has a folders of your smiling selfies just to beat off too. you honestly are their only thought not just late at when he’s alone.
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for paid private readings dm me 💘
3 questions - $20
6 questions - $30
long channeled message - $90
plzzz no questions about health or death ☠️
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(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)
Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'
His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'
His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.
And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.
If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!
It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.
(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)
The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?
It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.
Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.
He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.
Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).
"You got in a fight?" she asked.
With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."
"Huh. You okay?"
Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."
"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."
A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.
"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"
"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."
"Good. Is our lesson still on?"
"Certainly, m'dear."
And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.
He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.
The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.
It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.
Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!
Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.
It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"
"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."
She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.
"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.
Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."
And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.
She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.
"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."
Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.
"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."
He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.
That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.
But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.
A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.
The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.
"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"
Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?
Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.
"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."
"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.
Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"
"What? Who? What?"
"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?
"He's not my man?"
"But he could be."
"Gareth, what the fuck-"
He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.
"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."
"I'm not-"
"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"
Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.
He says, "Yeah?"
"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."
"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"
"Dude, you were nineteen."
"-and she was rude to me first."
"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."
"I-"
"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"
"Do you want to fuck him?"
"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"
Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.
Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.
"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."
Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"
"Gross."
"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"
He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.
"He seemed nice."
Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."
"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"
Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.
"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.
"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."
Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"
Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.
"The university!"
------------------------------
Taglist: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround , @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid
No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).
Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺
Part 3
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dragonsholygrail · 3 months
Text
Sharing What’s Important
Gale Dekarios x Reader
a/n: Gale is actually like so romantic and sweet in his own way and he definitely deserves to be as in love with someone as they are in love with him. Cue in reader (Tav).
summary: Gale shows you his favorite book and the two of you read it sitting on a window. Things get super cute and fluffy in the moments that follow.
word count: 1.7k
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You tilt your head back to the point where your neck creaks with a slight twinge. Your hair falls down as you gaze up at the almost endless amounts of books within the Baldur’s Gate library. You were in a library. You never thought you’d see the day. You slowly begin walking around, making sure not to stray too far. You honestly didn’t think you’d see the day for a lot of reasons. Sharp clicks of a boot ringing against the floor only proved that further.
“Here it is. This is the book I wanted to show you. I have an inkling you’ll take a liking to it,” Gale’s voice called out and you looked back down, straightening your spine to appear casual. A habit you had yet to break, even with him. You catch him just as he rounds the corner, waving a book in the air, a small smile gracing his sharp features.
“You didn’t have it on your person? Now that I don’t believe,” you tease, taking the book automatically as he holds it out in front of you, not wanting him to think for a second that you weren’t interested. Meeting his eye with a grin, you only see pure confusion in that innocent gaze.
“I would never take a book out of the library. Everything I read stays right here. If need be, I’ll sleep in here. Or come back, but I rarely seem to be able to put the things down once I pick them up.” He breaks out into a short laugh, finding himself and what he considers to be antics amusing. You have to bite your lip, not wanting to laugh at him. It would only be out of fondness… but still.
“So where should I read this then,” you ask, bringing the book back to his attention. Gale’s eyes first fall onto you. It makes your heart skip a beat that he’d first look to you instead of a book. Who would’ve guessed that could’ve ended up being a possibility for you, but you learned to take life one day at a time a long while ago.
You took joy in the way Gale’s eyes lit up. The way that, for a moment, he’s assertive as he places a hand on the small of your back and starts guiding you toward a window seat. The view of the city was breathtaking. For a moment you wondered how Gale would never grow distracted. But then you realize that for him, the book would be a distraction from looking out the window.
Gale maneuvers your body on instinct, as if he’s done this a million times before. He shuffles you over as he takes a seat at the window. His brows furrowed as he wiggled in the seat, aiming to get as comfortable as possible. And just when you don’t think your heart could be beating any faster, you watched as Gale spread his legs just the right amount in order to create a space for you. This was his place and yet here he was creating a space for you.
You don’t hesitate to slide onto the window seat, settling into his arms. A smile spreads across your lips as his arms wrap around your waist, bringing you as close as possible. Then he wiggles you as well, his way of making sure you’re as comfortable as possible.
“You done?” You raise a brow, not being able to help yourself from teasing him. Just a bit. He blinks as if breaking out of muscle memory. A routine. Then he hums and shakes his head, surprising you. Your lips part as he leans back, body still stiff and posture intact. But comfortable for him. Then he brings you to lean all the way into his chest.
“Now I am done. You may begin,” he states simply with a small nod toward the book. You slowly shake your head, constantly astounded by this man while also so desperate to know more of him. So you don’t make a quip, don't comment or give a look toward any of it. With a light sigh you open the book and start reading. A curiosity in the back of your mind as you wondered what made this his favorite.
The book was non-fiction. You had gathered that this man wasn’t much of a fiction reader, but you thought he might’ve started you off at least a little easy. At least the book was of a war. A personal diary of a little nobody who had down a whole lot for one of their greatest wars. And no one ever knew until someone found her diary and tracked it back to where she had been captured.
As you read, Gale nuzzles into the side of your head. For a second you start to melt. But then he leans in a little bit closer as you realize… he’s sticking his nose into the book! A book he’s probably read dozens of times, a book he probably knows every word to, and yet he’s moving closer to you in order to read it.
You’re honestly about to complain, rambling nonsense he wouldn’t fully understand, leading you to begrudgingly open yourself up further to him. Gale interrupts this as he nuzzles into you again. This time not further down, but into your hair. He inhaled deeply and you felt the way he melted on your back. So instead you only smile and continue reading.
“What do you think?” Gale asks, voice as neutral as ever. But looking deeper as you do, you can hear the eagerness and excitement in what little tone he holds. Her fingers press against the side of the book you’re reading. A side much smaller than the thick section you had left to read.
“I haven’t gotten much into it, you know.” You can’t help it as your smile widens considerably. You glance up at Gale to see a flicker of disappointment pass over his face before shifting back. He may be blunt but he was just as good if not better at hiding his emotions than even you was. “But it has already made quite the impression.”
Gale’s eyes move to meet yours, looking away from the book and they immediately glow a tiny bit brighter. You inhale sharply at the sight before nodding, hoping to assure him even further. But from what you can tell, he takes your word as pure fact and it’s enough to have him showing off more of his excitement to you.
While you continue turning the pages, understanding more and more why this is Gale’s favorite, you feel his stare. His gorgeous eyes that remind you of the earth beneath your feet, carrying you along your way, supporting you, just as the precious earth does too. Every time you smile, laugh, grow even the finest fraction of emotion, Gale is there to watch it all. Making sure not to miss a second of it.
At first you shift in their seat, the unfamiliar feeling of being watched grew to make her uncomfortable. You weren’t used to this. People watching you. Your whole life was making sure people weren’t watching you. Then came this man who could spend hours in the silence. Just watching. Observing. His favorite thing to aim all that toward? You. And you figure that if anyone were to make you that sort of uncomfortable, if anyone forced you to get used to the idea of having someone’s undivided attention, you were glad it was Gale. Anyone else and it simply wouldn’t have been worth it.
“Oh, I do love this story in particular. How she was able to survive the poison, I don’t know,” Gale expresses enthusiastically. You close your eyes for a brief moment, realizing that Gale had read ahead farther than you had been on the page. Suppose you know what that soup ends up doing to the woman. Despite the spoiler, which you can’t say you completely hated, a chuckle still left you.
“Haven’t gotten there yet, love,” you murmur softly, using your nickname for him. After all the creative pet names he had given you, ‘love’ had been all you could think of for him. But he seemed to like it enough so you weren’t about to go and change things for them both. You figured you’d both hate that more than anything.
From your peripheral, you see Gale very visibly wince, his face twisting in a manner that looked truly uncomfortable. As his eyes closed, you could practically imagine all the thoughts that were probably running through his head. The way he was most likely beating himself up for ruining the surprise and shock value of the moment.
You set the book down and shift in his arms. Without even looking, Gale tightens his hold on you. Fear of you leaving, even due to something like this, gripped him. But you pat his hand lightly before making sure to face him better. In a way you’re not entirely used to, you gently put your hands on his face. The action makes his eyes snap open, already glowing just from your touch.
“Thank you for the spoiler. This book is a real nail-bitter, I was getting nervous,” You made sure to exaggerate. By the way they both lightly laughed, you knew you had succeeded in calming the storm of his overworked mind. A hum vibrates through your throat and it has instant questions replacing the worrying thoughts. “You know, I think it would be better if you read it to me instead. Don’t you agree?”
Gale’s eyes widened and it barely took another second before he started grinning. You briefly wonder if this had been his plan all along. If he had somehow tricked you into this position. No way. You would’ve caught on. Wouldn’t you? Before you can think it over more, Gale shifts them both back into their previous position and picks up the book instead of waiting for you to hand it over. Settling back into his chest, your body soon becomes languid at the soothing rumble of his voice as he reads the book to you. You think you could get used to this. All of it. Every single bit. Especially everything that had to do with him.
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tlou-reid · 11 months
Text
you found me ✰ spencer reid
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warnings ✰ gunshot, violence, mentions of maeve, hospitals, mentions of death, mentions of religion and god, angst let me know if i missed any please
summary ✰ spencer is the one to reach you after being shot by an unsub
notes ✰ inspired by you found me by the fray. please send requests here. & this is not edited
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spencer wasn't sure what dropped first: him or his gun. he could still hear hotch yelling after him, instructing him to not to go in. first not to go in the black suburban you always made jokes about. then, not to go in the yard of your home spencer had been begging you to move out of. then, not to go in the door of the house that he'd held open for you so many times. now, he could hear hotch's voice telling him not to go in the room, but he sounded like he was underwater. when spencer opened the door he could see morgan holding the unsub to the ground while he got him in cuffs, but, as soon as his knees hit the floor next to your body, everything in his peripherals went blurry.
he knew he should be doing the medical things he learned years ago, back during his training, but he couldn't. he was frozen, unable to do anything but stare at the gunshot wound beneath your left rib. his eyes started to well up with tears as his hands reached out, applying pressure, as if he could stop the bleeding himself.
as soon as his shaky hands landed on your body, all he could think of was maeve. how could he do this again? another person he loved, bleeding to death, all because of him. he felt so selfish. for everything. for moving on from maeve. for falling in love with you. for putting you in this position. for thinking of another woman while you bled out under his hands.
"reid, move," hotch's voice cut through his thoughts. spencer wasn't sure how long he'd been kneeling over you, but it was long enough for medical first responders to get there, get inside, and be ready to take over the job he was failing to do. still, he couldn't bring himself to move from his position. hotch had to pull spencer away, letting the medical team move in and get to work.
despite the tears welling up in his eyes, spencer hadn't starting crying. until now. he was sitting in the floor, with hotch behind him with an arm still wrapped around him when the first sob wracked his body. his whole body jerked as he wailed. hotch didn't know what to do, so he just wrapped his arms around spencer, holding the crying boy to his chest as if spencer was his own son. spencer's bloodied hands reached up to hold hotch's forearms, looking for something to ground himself.
the rest of the day was blurry. time seemed to be moving with super speed, but also not moving at all. spencer felt like a bystander in his own life as he watched them load you into the ambulance. he couldn't move his legs when they asked who was riding with you, so it was prentiss who climbed in, giving him a sad look as they closed the doors.
he rode in that stupid suburban, and neither him nor hotch uttered a word. the ride was completely silent. it wasn't the comforting silence like when you and spencer would sit on the couch, each holding your own book and just enjoying being around each other. this silence was scary. he could feel his heart beat in his temples, his stomach was churning and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. hotch didn't complain about his fidgeting the whole ride to the hospital.
they met prentiss in the waiting room, where she explained that you were in surgery now. there was no update on your state, and the rest of the team was waiting on a phone call from one of you guys to explain what was going on. morgan had called to inform prentiss that the unsub was in custody, and his other victim had passed. spencer didn't say anything in reply. instead, he moved to sit in the chair farthest away from where hotch and prentiss were standing, not wanting to listen to the details of the case.
this case was not one that should have even been on the BAU's radar. the local police knew who the unsub was, they caught him on camera after his first attack. there was no need for a profile, and definitely no need for the BAU to be spending their time on something as simple as a manhunt. until you called. you thought someone had been following you on your walk around the neighborhood, and it was proven that you were right. there was no solid reason why you were the next victim. there was relatively no similarity between you and the other victim, you just happened to be in the wrong place. when his larger frame pressed himself into the door, there was no stopping him. he shot at you, knocking you down, and eventually unconscious, while he looked for anything valuable in the house. spencer didn't know what he was trying to take, and he didn't really care either. all he cared about was you getting better.
one hour turned into two, and then two turned into three. he had somehow convinced prentiss and hotch to leave. he just wanted to be alone, and after a long phone call with garcia, he was. he had started to pace and his thoughts started to wander. he wanted someone, something to blame. sure, this unsub was the one who shot you, but what about the police? the ones who didn't try hard enough to find this guy before he was in your house? what about your neighbors? who weren't keeping an eye on you while you walked, even though you did numerous favors for them? what about him? a law enforcement officer that you were in love with but who wasn't there to protect you?
and lastly, what about God? being a man of science usually kept him from turning to a higher being. but a desperate man will take any chance he can get, and the best word to describe spencer right now was desperate. desperate for you to be okay. desperate for you to make it out of surgery. desperate to be next to you. desperate for someone to blame. so how could God do this? how could he allow something to happen to you? how could he punish spencer after all the good he had been trying to be doing for this world?
his thoughts went wild for what felt like years, but was only a few more hours, before the doctor was coming to get him. "dr. reid?" her voice came into the empty waiting room. his head snapped right to her. "she is out of surgery, she'll be waking up soon. you might want to be in the room when she does."
spencer stomach dropped the way he did earlier. he picked up the sweater vest and tie he had discarded on a waiting room chair and hurried to follow the doctor. when he reached the room, he was shocked at how peaceful you looked. despite all of the noises from the machines, the hospital room was the calmest place he had been in in the last 24 hours. spencer made himself comfortable while he waited for your eyes to flutter open.
and when they did, his eyes were on yours. he couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. it took a few minutes for you to adjust to the room. the noises, the bright lights, the lack of understanding where you were. the last thing you remembered was hitting the ground after having a gun pointed at you. after a few minutes, you turned to face him, "you found me." you smiled, despite the dryness in your throat as you spoke.
"just a little late." spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the guilt that was burrowed in his stomach. he reached forward, rubbing a few fingers along your cheek. "what happened?" you asked, wanting the whole story. spencer explained, leaving out a few parts. you didn't need to know how he couldn't bring himself to help you, or how he cried in hotch's arms, or how many times he had to wash his hands in the hospital's bathroom sink to get your blood off of him.
"that's kinda crazy," you couldn't help but laugh. spencer was mildly uncomfortable at your reaction. "so, when do i get to go home?"
"you don't," spencer begun, "you're moving out, like i have been asking you to." he could see the confusion written across your face. "you're moving in with me, that way i know you'll be safe." he smiled at you, excited at the idea. he had been wanting this for a while. "now get some rest," he said with a gentle tone, "i'll find us something to eat." despite the fact that he hadn't eaten in almost a day, he waited for you to be asleep to leave the room.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
Note
hi, can you please do a chris one about the things reader do that make his heart flutter, please 🫶🏻
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Heart to Heart (Chris Sturniolo)
a/n: okay guys, i didn't know exactly how to write this but i sort of just ended up making it about moments in the relationship. i think its super cutesy and i hope you love it. thanks for the request anon, love ya
contains: fluff and alot of it, soft boyfriend chris, falling in love, chris third person pov, kissing, 950+ words
The first time Chris’ heart skips a beat, it’s so subtle he almost misses it. He’s meeting a girl. A pretty girl. It’s not new for him; he meets pretty girls almost every day. But something is different about this one and it catches him off guard. He can’t put a finger on it, can’t say what part of her has him off balance. He only knows that one minute everything was normal and then he met her eyes and now it’s like the world is somehow spinning backwards. Then she smiles, tells him her name, and asks for his. And suddenly everything is the same again, but now slightly different.
***********
She’s rambling the night he realizes there’s no way in hell he can just be her friend. There’s a movie on, but no one is looking at the screen. It’s the one she’s seen a million times and the one he only put on to watch her watch it. She’s criss-cross applesauce in his bed, mixed-matched fluffy socks on her feet, talking about how different this scene is in the book. And he doesn’t care at all, but he nods and hangs onto every word because she does. On the screen, the boy’s dad tells him that he’ll know when he’s met the one because he won’t have to ask. And in his bed, next to this girl quoting the movie word for word, Chris realizes with a start that he’s never asked once.
***********
They never go on a first date; he can’t bring himself to call it that. But he does take her to dinner. It starts a bit awkwardly and he begins to worry that he’s fucked this up. But then he cracks a joke and she laughs and he tells ten more, chasing that sound. And then they are talking about everything- the moon, hot sauce, Shonda Rhimes, Roger Rabbit- until before they know it their plates are cleared and it’s time to go. They take a walk down a path she knows, and he reaches out and laces their hands together not missing the smile she tries to hide. When she trips over a rock, because of course she does, he catches her before she can fall. And as he begins teasing her, she leans up and kisses him mid-sentence, melting his words away. She pulls away and he’s stunned for a second, but only a second, and then pulls her back to him, his heart beating faster than he’s ever felt it before.
***********
Chris loves it when she gets ready for parties or events with him for a million different reasons, but he thinks he loves this part the most. She’s doing her hair or at least she’s trying to, but their playlist isn’t letting her be great. When she hears the beginning of Migos’ Stir Fry, she’s up in half a second singing the words, dancing around, and pointing at him for the next line. He jumps up to join her, matching her energy and giving his goofy footwork. She’s hyping him up, recording him, and then crumbling to the floor with laughter as he trips doing the pin-drop. He looks over at her grinning and when she comes over to help him up, he yanks her down on top of him so he can kiss her.
***********
“I think I’m in love with her.” He tells Matt late one night, the two of them sitting in the kitchen scrolling on their phones. Chris doesn’t even look over at him, but he feels his brother’s eyes boring into the side of his head. Then he feels Matt’s hand on his shoulder and Chris finally meets his eyes. “Not to step on your moment here, buddy. But you’re the last one to realize that.” His brother grins at him and he can’t help but join. His phone goes off and he glances down, seeing her name flash across the screen. It’s a Snapchat of her blowing him a kiss, her face covered in a green mask, telling him goodnight. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but tonight it makes his heart stutter: He looks over at his brother, who’s still studying him knowingly, and rolls his eyes. “Shut up, bro.”
***********
He has his eyes closed, well on his way to sleep, when he feels her turn in his arms. He’s about to open his eyes and ask if she’s hot when he hears her say it. It’s only a bit louder than a whisper but unmistakable, if only for the way it makes his body feel like he’s floating.
“I love you so much, Chris.”
She rubs her nose against his once and then snuggles into his chest, her eyelashes giving him soft butterfly kisses. And then before the moment slips away from him, before he can talk himself out of it, he says it back. His voice is a little groggy and rough but his tone is gentle. She freezes, clearly unprepared to have been caught and he laughs a little, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She sits up in bed, turning to him in shock. He opens his eyes finally and raises his eyebrows.
“Don’t make it a thing-”
She stands and starts jumping on the bed like a kid on Christmas. “You love me. You love me.” She sings childishly, laughing as he tries to catch her legs and make her fall. He sighs, giving up and letting his head fall back against the pillow, unable to hold back his smile. “Shut up and come here.” He says, holding open his arms for her to fall into. And she does. And as he presses his lips to hers, her hands tangling into his hair, he holds on to her and hopes she never makes him let go.
326 notes · View notes
luffyvace · 18 days
Text
Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons
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These are sfw and gender neutral
for Sanji’s big day! (I’m super late ik hush :3)
pt2 here my sillies :3 : Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2
Dating Sanji includes royal treatment. We all know this. It’s so obvious. 😭 It’s in the manga, it’s canon, we all write it in our headcanons. We know this.
Royal treatment meaning sit back and relax dear, Sanji’s got this. Sea beast? He beat it up and is now cooking a delicious and nutritious sea beast stew for you, would you like that with a smoothie? Lemonade? Water? Ok water. Sparkling? Distilled? Iced?
oh your lost? Don’t worry he’s got bread and he’ll leave breadcrumbs where you’ve walked so you don’t go in circles :)
your clothes are wet? Take his. 💋
there’s mud up ahead and you just bought a snazzy new fit? He’ll carry you 🏋️‍♂️
somebody bothering you loveliest? He’s already kicked them to Australia (extra hard if it was Zoro)
Dating Sanji includes good communication.
If you feel anything but a positive emotion Sanji is on the case. And the first victim he’s pointing fingers at is Zoro 😼
”MOSS HEAD BASTARD!! YOU MADE THEM UPSET DIDNT YOU?!”
it’s not a person darling? Well what happened? What can he do to help? Did you loose something? He’ll turn into a mad man causing chaos around town looking for it! Did it drop into the ocean? He swims as deep as he needs to in order to find it.
Honestly he even babies you about little stuff :P you stubbed your toe? Want him to massage it for you? That’s it! He’s breaking out the foot spa! Take off your socks and shoes!
he did something that really upset you?! Tell him what it is right away! He’ll make sure he never steps outta line ever again! He *kiss* never *kiss* meant *kiss* to *kiss* upset *kiss* you *kiss*~
Never feel hesitation to tell him if something’s wrong with you physically “Chopper! Come check them out right now!! They say somethings’ wrong!”
Nor mentally! You’ve been going through some tough times these last few months?! Sit down and tell him everything!! Let’s get to the root of this! Together! Is it someone else?? Did it happen from something??
Even if you aren’t feeling negative emotions right now always feel free to rant to him about what’s making you happy! he’d love to hear it truly! He loves your voice even more~ 🥰 *nose bleed*
Dating Sanji includes 5 star meals.
another thing we all know. And in every headcanon- but seriously what’s all your favorite meals, snacks and desserts? Even if Luffy himself says to make one thing he might make another just because he knows you like it. That guy eats anything anyway so he might as well just make what you like! 🧑‍🍳
Dating Sanji includes overly cheesy confessions despite the fact that your already and only dating.
”My dearest..I would love if you would go out with me and make this evening the loveliest of my days! I’d wholeheartedly accept and put my all into cooking for our first date….My love and affection with herb and spice…the flavor of our intense compatibility will melt on your tongue every bite you take! Guaranteed!”
”Sanji….we’ve been dating for xyz months/years now..”
”ahhh~ Even to the blossoms of this beautiful spring day know we’re simply destined to be..! Getting married tomorrow..it’s been my dream since we’ve first met! I can see it already, smell it even..! The enchanting scene of you walking down the isle, putting your hands in mine…kiss! The happiest day of my life has officially been sealed! Everyone’s clapping! Cheering! Whoop woo’s arise in the air of our love!~ The 6 layer cake I spent every ounce of my time baking since I met you, on the side of us—predicting our perfect wedding kiss! An exact model of the scene~ It brings a tear to my eye! I hope I don’t keep you up tonight, my darling love! Because I certainly won’t be able to sleep when I’m much too busy imagining the scene over and over again until our big day tomorrow, the same one I’ve been replaying in my head since I first laid eyes on you~ 😚”
”what on EARTH Sanji. We’re only dating! Wha- What do I even say to this?!”
”you could say yes! My lovely future spouse!~ 😍😍”
”To what! You haven’t even properly proposed to me yet?! Let alone made it official⁉️“
”ohh my honey! I didn’t know you wanted to get married- the wind! The sea! The birds even know our fate! We-“
”ALRIGHT!”
”SHUT IT SEAWEED HEAD!! DON’T INTERUPT ME WHILE IM CONFESSING MY LOVE to the most wonderful soul to have ever lived~”
⚔️🗡🔥💥💥💥⚔️🗡🔥💥⚔️🗡💥💥🔥
(Sanji and zoro fighting :3)
Dating Sanji includes sure fire protection.
no one will ever lay a hand on you. For a man? Self explanatory. Blast that motha sucka to space.💥 For a woman?? Welll…he’ll take all the hits for you okay?! So run away and go get Nami or Robin!! Hurry darling!
Dating Sanji includes trust.
more than anything he trusts you with his deepest darkest secrets. There’s no front when it’s just you two around, purely him. Not telling you his lineage was because he wanted to put that behind him..it wasn’t supposed to come back up. And man is he the most sorry sucker on earth when he betrays the strawhats. Because that means he’s betraying you. Pleasepleasepleasetakehimbackplease.
Uh guys I ran out of characters I’m gonna do a part two I guess 😭… I didn’t want to thooo
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chessholic · 2 months
Text
 ー Feelings ー
11th Doctor
(feat. 10th Doctor)
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Summary: You didn't expect to meet the Doctor with a totally different face.
Author's Note: Hey! I am not super pleased with this. However I hope you enjoy it. Bare with me, I am getting better at this. :)
You cheerfully exited the TARDIS skipping down the cobble stone street. The Doctor couldn't help, but smile while his eyes shined all the love he held for you. You just didn't see it, maybe you were too afraid to.
"So, what are we doing?", you asked curiously turning to face him. You were in London shopping for something.
"I just need to buy some-", the Doctor came to a stop raising a finger to his chin. He seemed to be in deep thoughts.
It was rare because usually he was all over the place and you needed to watch out his hands that moved almost as fast as his rambling. So this quiet moment was something new.
"Blimey...", he muttered under his breath.
"You forgot again?", you asked smirking at his sarcastic smile to you. You skipped back to him and took his hand.
"Let's explore and maybe it will find us", you told him and pulled him with you.
The Doctor couldn't ignore how nice your hand felt in his, your hand was comforting, you couldn't get lost when you held his hand. And you tried your best to calm your beating heart and thoughts. The Doctor was your safe place, he gave you comfort.
If you only knew that the feeling was very mutual.
You two have dated for a while now, but you both were a bit afraid. The Doctor was already afraid of losing you and you were afraid of the pain it would cause him. You two hadn't kissed yet, the tension and idea lingering in the air, making it thick to breathe.
Sometimes the tension felt suffocating, so many emotions, but no one said anything.
The love you held for each other was evident, but neither of you had said the three magical words.
I love you
You and the Doctor were exploring a huge market that was packed with people. At some point you two got separated. The panic was filling you, suffocating you. People were hitting your shoulders and making you lose your balance. All the sounds and people yelling seemed to quiet down, like the time had stopped.
Closing your eyes and trying to stop hyperventilating you prepared for the fall waiting for the hard ground. However you felt someone taking you in their arms.
"I got you", someone said with a comforting voice. Carefully you opened your eyes meeting warm looking brown eyes that had a hint of concern in them. However the thing that struck you was the fact that his eyes were oddly familiar. The man carefully helped you to your feet.
"Please, can you help me away from-", you quietly asked, but stopped when a person almost knocked you over again.
"Yes, let's get you away from here", he stated determined to get you away from the crowd that seemed to cause you your distress.
Finally you found a quiet sideway and you leaned against a wall breathing still a bit unevenly.
"Are you okay? Can I help?", the man asked awkwardly, you were reminded of the Doctor. Your Doctor always wanted to help everyone, often forgetting himself in the process.
Doctor!
"I need to find him", you muttered closing your eyes trying to steady everything, your body and mind. The world was spinning and you could see black dots.
Why did you agree to this trip? The Doctor was your safe place and only he could get you through these situations.
"Find who?", the man asked and finally you took a good look at the man.
He was wearing Converses. Why? He had a light brown faux-suede duster coat on and he had a tie. Your Doctor always wore bowties. How would he look with a tie?
The man was odd, but at the same time you felt something familiar.
"Thank you so much, my saviour, what is your name?", you tried to joke, but you felt awful.
The man perked up and apparently tried to make himself look important because he raised his chin and pushed his chest out a bit.
"I am the Doctor", he announced flashing a charming smile.
"No, you're not", you said furrowing your brows.
A smile on the man's face faltered and turned into confusion.
"What?", he asked, that was not a reaction he was expecting.
"You are not the Doctor", you repeated nervously and tried to get away from the man.
"You are from the future? Do you travel with me?", the man asked with curiosity, but kept a distance between you two. His eyes were honest, just like your Doctors.
They also held the same wise look in them. Could he really be? He once mentioned something about regeneration.
Carefully you walked closer to him. The Doctor watched curiously what you were going to do.
You lifted your hands up close to his face. You waited for permission. The confused man didn't say anything so you gingerly touched his face. Your face breaking into a toothpaste commercial smile made the man's hearts skip a beat. He could see how much love your eyes hold for the future him, for him.
"So you have always been handsome, but not ginger", you whispered your voice a bit shaky from the unexplainable emotion that was in your throat.
A small chuckle escaped his lips. "And who you might be?".
"I am not sure if I am allowed to tell you that", you answered a bit cheekily making the man grin.
You carefully took your hands away from his face suddenly craving to find your Doctor.
"Y/N!"
You both turned to see where the shouting was coming from.
"Doctor!", you yelled back tears streaming down your face, however they were happy tears.
Finally down the alley ran a tall lanky man who was nothing like the skinny spiky haired man next to you.
His brown wild hair was messier than usual, probably from him running his hand through his hair in stress. His green eyes were frantically searching for anything that would indicate you would be hurt.
"You are okay, you are okay", he rambled pulling you to his arms. He buried his face to your neck inhaling your scent.
"Blimey, I was so worried. I will never let go of your hand again", he muttered taking your face in his hands.
"I am okay, Doctor. Nothing bad has happened", you reassured him bringing your hands on top of his that were holding your face carefully while his eyes scanned you throughout.
"I love you so much Y/N, I cannot lose you", he confessed voice thicker than usual.
Before you could even answer to him, his lips captured yours. Regardless of the storming emotions the kiss was gentle and loving.
It made you weak in the knees. Oh how many nights did you imagine what this moment would be like, how this would feel. You needed to admit that it felt better than you could have ever imagined.
After a moment you two pulled away catching your breaths.
"I love you too Doctor, with all my heart", you whispered making the Doctor smiling brighter than the sun.
"What are you doing here?", the Doctor asked after a moment of silence.
"Oh you-", you looked where the past version of him used to stand. However the skinny man had disappeared into thin air.
"I just needed to get away from the crowd", you explained, it technically was the truth.
He accepted your answer and took your hand smiling giddily.
"Let's get back to the TARDIS"
"That sounds great", you responded leaning against his side resting your head against his shoulder.
Near the TARDIS you felt eyes on you. Turning around you were met with brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter than the stars you had seen.
You blew him a kiss and winked before disappearing into the TARDIS.
The Doctor watched as the TARDIS disappeared. Oh how he wanted to find you. He didn't know you, but he could already feel how you were a missing piece from his soul.
He really loved you already.
"Why on earth did you wear sandshoes?"
"Oi!"
164 notes · View notes
staytiny-dreams · 5 months
Text
a pair of hearts (j.yh x reader)
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pairing: jeong yunho x gn! reader
genre: mutual pining, friends to (implied) lovers, fluff fluff and more fluff
warnings: alcohol consumption? nobodys super drunk tho, no pronouns used, reader is mentioned to wear a dress once
wc: 3.9k
note: inspired by my friend who wanted to get drunk but didn't so that she could drive me home bc she could tell i wasn't vibing. i tried my best to edit/proofread if u find any mistakes lemme know ill fix it up.
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you scrunch your face in distaste as the alcohol burns down your throat. a gag rises in your throat but you push it down, biting into the lime that brings welcome relief.
“that shit tastes like soap.” you whine, glaring at the bottle of tequila as if it had launched a personal attack on you.
the next person reaches for a card and you fold your arms in front of you where you lay, stomach down on the carpet. with a huff, your head drops down to your arms and your eyes flutter closed.
unknown to you a concerned pair of eyes follow your movements from their place on the couch across the room. yunho is nursing a glass of water, excluding himself from the game in favour of sobering up.
“can we move outside now?” wooyoung suggests for the fifth time. a groan leaves your lips as - for the first time tonight - everyone agrees with him.
as the group stands to go outside, you don't move from your place on the floor, lifting your head to see empty glasses kicked over and forgotten cards strewn across the yellowing carpet.
the music seems louder now that the room has emptied and it causes your head to pound. you curse silently at your own behaviour.
you really did want to have a good time tonight, but as the first drop of alcohol hit your tongue, any energy you might’ve had at the beginning of the night dissipated.
with a groan, you push yourself upwards with your arms, sitting up with your legs folded, looking around the room tiredly. the velvet of your dress rests softly over your knees, the skin of your legs glowing slightly blue beneath the lit christmas tree.
you take in the speaker; still blasting music despite the group's departure, the empty chairs strewn about the room; all of which are surrounded by empty cans and glasses, telling of how intoxicated the rest of your friends already are.
finally your eyes come to rest on the couch, mild surprise shoots through you, your heart jumping, as you finally notice yunho, still sitting on the couch.
having been keeping his eye on you, he immediately noticed your gaze on him, giving you a warm smile.
you briefly wonder why he didn't follow the rest of the group outside, your heart beating faster at the thought that he stayed for you.
dismissing the thought quickly, you push yourself up onto your knees, then onto your feet. smiling back up at yunho, you carefully navigate the carpet of cans, glasses, cards and food as you make your way to the couch.
with a sigh, you flop down onto the couch, close enough to yunho to rest your head on his shoulder, his knitted brown sweater soft on your cheek.
“yun-ah…” you whine and he chuckles quietly, reaching over you for the fluffy, grey blanket resting on the couch. leaning back, he pulls the blanket over the both of you causing you to press yourself into his side even more.
his breath hitches at your closeness, however the alcohol inhibiting your senses makes certain you don't notice this movement.
“yes (y/n)?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
“wanna get out of here…” you mumble into his shoulder, curling the blanket around your fingertips and pulling it closer to your chin. you keep your voice low, afraid to break the bubble you two have created, sinking into the couch cushions together.
“i know,” he admits, reaching an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm comfortingly.
you squint up at him in confusion, your eyebrows scrunching. it takes everything in yunho to keep himself from reaching out to smooth your furrowed brow.
“been watching you, pretty,” he confesses with a surge of confidence. after registering his own words, his face flushed, red creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears.
your heart sits in your throat at yunho's admission, alcohol still clouds your mind and you think you must've imagined his endearment.
“you want me to take you home?” he asks, wanting to move on from his previous comment as fast as possible, especially considering your lack of response.
“haven't you been drinking?” you remind him, shifting around to pull at your phone from where it sits, beneath your leg.
“not for a while, i stopped drinking at like eight. i can be okay to drive by eleven? eleven thirty?” he takes another sip of his water as if to prove his point to you, but you only pout.
“why'd you stop? are you not having a good time?” you poke his chest with both questions and your phone finally comes free.
yunho's chest warms at your concern, especially considering you yourself were not having a good time. in fact, yunho had noticed your energy levels were lower than usual upon your arrival. after your first shot of the night, your demeanour dropped once more.
“no, i'm having a good time, you're not though.” he points out and you whine into his shoulder.
“having a great time… now.” you unlock your phone and open tiktok, once again pushing yourself further into the warmth of yunho's body.
“now… that you're not drinking and you're left alone?” he teases and you snort a small laugh at the picture his words paint in your mind.
“not alone, with you.” your free hand, not scrolling through your phone, reaches around for yunho's hand where it still rests on your arm.
pulling his arm forward so his hand rests on your lap, you turn his hand over so his palm is open to you.
yunho's heart is beating in his throat, his face feels hot. you begin to play with his fingers and he holds back the whine that wants to leave his lips at your touch.
you tilt your screen towards yunho so he can watch over your shoulder, despite the music blasting and preventing either of you from being able to hear the phone properly.
your eyes flit to the time, showing nine fifty-seven. a groan leaves your throat before you can stop it.
yunho notices your impatience and smiles to himself.
“(y/n)-ah…” he calls and you hum in response, eyes still on your screen. with the knowledge that you're still fairly far under the influence, yunho finds his courage and rests his hand over yours around your phone.
you turn your neck to look up at him, raising a brow at his sudden move. his cheeks burn for the nth time tonight - as do yours - yet he continues.
squeezing your hand with his own, your phone screen goes dark.
“why'd you do that?” you mumble in protest and he shrugs.
“you weren't paying attention to me.” is his only explanation and you laugh in disbelief.
yunho's face lights up, an affectionate smile resting on his lips.
“did you watch that new special you were excited about?” he asks and a sullen pout takes over your face.
“no, i wanted to rewatch the original show first, but they took it off of my streaming service.” with your phone turned off, you drop it in your lap and turn your attention completely to yunho who was humming thoughtfully at your words.
“what streaming service is it on?” he probes and you bring your hand up to trace the knitted patterns on his sweater.
“amazon i think, but i had to cancel my subscription a few months ago.” you try not to sound too ungrateful or whiney, your hand movements continuing absent-mindedly.
yunho thinks he must look like a fool, a blushing mess as his face feels hotter as the seconds pass.
“i have- i have amazon.” he says with no further explanation.
“hm?” you prompt, still focusing your attention on playing with his shirt.
“i mean we could… you could… well, we could watch it together?” his statement is not a question, but his inflection suggests otherwise.
“really?” you finally bring your attention from his shirt, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes.
with your innocent eyes shining up at him, tired, but swelling with affection and fondness, yunho finds himself choking on his words. afraid that if he speaks, his voice will come out shaky, he gives a small nod in lieu of a verbal response and your smile widens.
“okay, but you know they only start at the new series, right?” you warn and he nods again, this time huffing out a laugh.
“yeah? why don't you tell me about the old seasons then?”
so you do. you rest your head back on yunho, cheek to his chest, faces warm and a pair of hearts beating faster than normal, and you explain the plot of each season that yunho won't get to see.
yunho practices active listening throughout your explanation, nodding and humming in response, gasping when it’s appropriate, even asking questions about the lore and history of the world.
with every gasp he lets out, every question he asks, you can feel your heart grow bigger and bigger. you would think that a big heart means you have room for everyone in your heart, but that's not true. at least not for you. because for you, yunho had rooted himself deep in your heart, and there was no room for anyone else.
your tangent was interrupted when a sharp ringing cut through the air. finding your forgotten phone hiding in the tangled blanket, you turn it over to see a reminder to take your tablets.
“did you bring them with you?” yunho's voice grabs your attention again, and you swipe the alarm away, turning back to him.
“i took them before i left.” you look back at your phone, checking the time again only to find that as you ranted about your show to yunho, over an hour had passed.
“eleven eleven, make a wish.” there was a teasing lilt to his voice as he too took note of the time.
but, looking up at yunho and his playful smile, his arm around you, your head on his chest and his hand in your lap you thought that if this was your life, you didn't need to make a wish.
the alcohol had started to wear off now, having been just over an hour since you'd had anything to drink.
yunho on the other hand, had been drinking water and snacking on spring rolls for the past three hours.
“shall we get you home now?” if yunho noticed your all but lovesick expression, he didn't say anything.
yunho simply writes off your affection as a result of the alcohol running through you which gives him the courage to tap your cheek affectionately in a gesture for you to sit up.
your cheeks went up in flames as you separated from yunho's side for the first time in about an hour. you hold back your whine at the loss of his warmth and instead stand from the couch.
you turn and hold out your hands for yunho and he raises a brow. despite his scepticism, he grips your hands and lets you try to lift him.
yunho moves easily from the couch at your first pull and you frown up at him.
“okay well you could've resisted a little. you didn't even try to make it seem realistic.”
“what do you mean? i didn't do anything, you're just that strong, really!” his tone is incredulous and you roll your eyes even as a smile spreads across your face.
“you couldn't just humour me? i could pick you up, im strong enough.” you state firmly and he shrugs.
“i’ve been taught it's bad to lie. now go get your stuff.” he places his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around and nudging you in the direction of your bag.
you reach through your bag checking you've got everything, phone, wallet, headphones, charger. deciding if anything else had been left, you could pick it up another day, you sling your bag over your shoulder.
turning back around, you find yourself alone in the room. you consider heading outside to say goodnight to everyone, but a wave of exhaustion washes over you again at the thought of rejoining the group, and you opt instead to message your close friends goodnight.
you pull out your phone and open messages, searching for the groupchat with your closest friends as you walk over to the front door. it had been propped open to allow for easy access to party goers and a cool, midnight breeze was sweeping through the entrance.
you lean against the wall next to the doorway, just out of the way of the entrance, avoiding any goosebumps that could be caused by the wind.
as you type out your message, yunho comes back into the house from the back door, tossing his keys into the air and catching them again.
“ready to go?”
“are you sure you wanna leave early with me?” you wonder, once again. you feel bad he hadn't been drinking with the others, instead staying inside and coddling you just because you weren't feeling it.
“(y/n) i just spent the last hour and a half sitting on a couch with you while everyone parties outside, i don't know what else i can do to show you that you are who i want to spend my time with.” he affirms, but you say nothing.
conveniently, the hem of your clothing becomes very interesting. you look down, picking at the seam as if you can't feel him approach you.
“besides, i didn't spend the last three hours not drinking just so i could end up not driving you home.” you huff out a laugh, still playing with the velvet that hangs around your legs.
yunho reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, however you are still unable to meet his eyes with your heart swelling, cheeks hot, blood pumping loudly in your ears.
suddenly you wish you'd waited in the doorway maybe the breeze rushing through the door frame would've aided in cooling your body down.
“i told them all you said goodbye and that i was taking you home. didn't think you'd feel up to braving the masses again.” he places his large hand on the small of your back and leads you out the front door.
“you make me sound like a loser.” you complain, letting him shuffle you to his car that sits at the end of the driveway.
“not a loser. just sleepy. hm?” he reaches past you to open the car door for you. you throw your bag to the floor first, then, finding yourself still a little off balance, you grip the centre console with one hand to aid your entrance into the car.
the warmth of his hand doesn't leave your back until you settle into your seat when he finally pulls away he closes your door and disappears from your side.
you watch him through the windscreen as he rounds the car. his dark hair rests on his forehead just above his eyes, shining in the moonlight, looking softer than the blanket you'd been wrapped in half of the night.
his cheeks were flushed and while it was probably from the cold, you could only hope that maybe, the red in his face and neck was an indicator of an effect that you might have on him.
he closes his own car door behind him and smiles at you from his place in front of the wheel. you give a weak smile in return, your head lolling to the side, unable to keep holding your neck up as it nears midnight.
the drive seemed fast as you dozed in the passenger seat, the late night talk shows on the radio droning on and on putting you in a tired trance.
yunho had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road, knowing that if he glanced over at your sleeping frame, he wouldn't be able to pull his gaze away.
all too soon, he was pulling into the carpark underneath your apartment building, parking in the visitor section.
“is your roommate home?” he asks and you mumble an incoherent response, eyes still closed.
“jagi… are you awake?” he reaches a hand over, resting it on your shoulder, his warmth spreading over your body once more.
“no.” you say, leaning into his touch.
“no?”
“mm mm.” you hum with a minuscule shake of your head.
“ah okay.” is all he says before exiting the car and closing his door.
in a split second, yunho is at your door, the night breeze sweeping over you and his body leaning over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. you can't tell if the goosebumps prickling at your skin are from the wind, or from the proximity of the man above you.
“come on, time to get inside.” his hand rests on your cheek and jaw and you peek an eye open.
“will you stay? don't want you driving home so late alone.” yunho's smile makes your chest hurt, his eyes scrunching and smile lines creasing on his cheeks.
“okay sweetheart, i'll stay.” a smile of your own makes its way to your face and you lean forward into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you out of the car and to your feet.
leaning into his side, he places one arm around your shoulders and grabs your bag using his free arm. he throws your bag over his shoulder and closes the car door, locking it and shoving his keys in his back pocket.
“keys in my bag yun,” you mention. exhaustion seeps from your pores and you let yunho support your weight almost completely, simply focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
despite your whole body weight being placed upon yunho along with your bag, yunho walks you both into the building, up the elevator and to your apartment door with no complaints.
as you reach your own door, a relieved sigh falls from you and you leave yunho's side to lean against the wall while he rummages through your bag for the keys.
when his fingers brush against the telling seahorse keychain, he hooks the keyring on his index finger and pulls them out. with ease and familiarity he unlocks the door and pushes it open.
you duck under his arm to enter the apartment before he's even fully opened the door and he chuckles at your eagerness.
locking the door behind him, he leaves the keys in the deadlock and puts the chain across.
while his back is turned you make your way through your apartment, heading straight for your bedroom.
“(y/n)?” he calls out for you when he turns back to the empty living area. you call out to him from your bedroom and when he enters behind you he can see you at your linen closet, pulling out spare pillows and blankets.
your own bed looks hurriedly made, the top blankets pulled over, however the lumps underneath suggest that the sheets below the top layer have not been as carefully fixed.
“don't look at that.” you mutter, pushing a pillow into his chest as you pass him on your way out of the room.
he grabs the pillow, hugging it to his middle, turning on his heel and following you back out into your living area, feeling a bit like an overgrown puppy as he trails you through your house again.
in the living room, you finish setting up the couch with the spare blankets before turning back to him.
“will this be okay? or you can take the bed and i can take the couch” immediately he's shaking his head at you, with two large strides he's at your side, placing his pillow on the couch conclusively.
“if the other option was a couch made of rocks i still wouldn't take your bed from you.” he ushers you back towards your bedroom.
“you're so dramatic, the couch is comfy enough.” you whine and he laughs, pushing past you into your bedroom and pulling the covers on your bed back. his earlier suspicions are confirmed when he finds your second sheet scrunched up in the middle of your bed.
choosing not to comment on the mess of a bedspread, yunho turns to you, gripping your shoulders gently and spinning the both of you around so the back of your knees hit your bed. you huff playfully at his actions, which he also ignores in favour of pushing down on your shoulders, prompting you to sit on the edge of the mattress.
“if that’s true, i'll be fine to sleep on it then hm?” you don't respond to him, a pout resting on your lips as he crouches in front of you.
“what are you doing yun?” you swing your legs forward and back slightly before he stops your movements with a gentle yet firm grip.
yunho doesn’t answer, instead he smooths his hands down your calf and unties the laces on your left shoe, ignoring the pitchy sound you release in surprise, yunho slips the shoe off with minimal effort.
focusing his attention on your right shoe next, yunho misses the look in your eyes as you gaze down at the man undoing your laces for you. you think you could cry at the sight, unable to make sense of his behaviour tonight, but your heart feels full.
finally standing, yunho pushes on your shoulders and you follow his lead as he lays you down, petulant frown morphing into a sleepy smile at the teddy bear of a man above you.
he pulls your blanket up around your shoulders and tucks it in tightly beneath your neck and around your shoulders. another cute smile spreads across his face as he takes in your frame, wrapped up in the ocean blue of your blanket, blinking sleepily up at him.
“yunnie?” he crouches down once more to be face to face with you and his hand comes to rest on your cheek.
“hm?”
“jagi?” you ask, finally finding the courage to clarify whether or not you had imagined the term of endearment in your sleepy state.
yunho swallows, face hot as it always seems to be around you.
“yeah. yunnie?” he fires back and you let out a weak, tired laugh.
“touche.” yunho smiles warmly and your eyes close.
he takes a deep breath, pulling all the courage from every crevice of his body, leans over, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
assuming you're too far into your sleepy state to respond, he lets out a sigh and begins to stand, only to be stopped by your hand shooting out and gripping his neck.
he lets out a small yelp of surprise as you pull him back down and press a hard kiss to his cheek.
his knees go weak, legs wobbling slightly and his heart leaps into his throat at your affection. recovering from the surprise, he opens his eyes to see yours open again and searching his face as if trying to see inside and find out what he’s thinking.
“we'll talk about this tomorrow, hm? get some sleep.” he leaves his own, softer kiss on your cheek, before disappearing from your line of sight. shortly after he’s left your field of vision, you can hear your bedroom door click softly closed.
despite your racing heart, and your bubbling excitement for the following morning, your eyes flutter closed and you finally let sleep overtake you.
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Sword gays showdown, round 2, bracket three
Propaganda:
For Xie Lian:
The BIGGEST nerd about swords and swordfighting and martial arts it's his special interest and he's incredibly good at it! He ascended to godhood because of his prowess. He can literally defeat people with powers in swordfighting at a time he has no powers of his own. Talks people's ears off about swordfighting and recommends what specific weapon is best for them. Definitely has sword related trauma for *reasons* and doesn't like actually using them to harm anymore, but that doesn't mean he's not still incredibly skilled at using them when he needs to. And he'll still gush over any sword you give him to look at ❤️. A great quote from the book is: The Flower-Crowned Martial God: Sword in one hand, flower in the other. [they] only remembered the flower, but had forgotten:  Xie Lian ascended because of his sword.
Xie Lian basically has a special interest in swords. He's literally so good at using swords that the only person on par with him was the Heavenly Emperor and that was when he was 17!!!! He is LITERALLY "The Flower Crowned Martial God, Sword in One Hand, Flower in the Other". He knows everything about every kind of sword and all the history of every sort of legendary sword. His husband gifts him a whole armory full of swords and he spends a few hours geeking out about it. He's so good at swords he came up with a special technique to absorb the blow from two other swords so that only he himself is harmed but the other two he's trying to get to stop fighting Aren't harmed, and it's so special that he's *recognized* by it even after centuries. He also got stabbed by a sword a hundred times in one night does that count. He REALLY loves swords and is SO good at swords. He's the sword boy.
He is so incredibly autistic about swords. The author descibes him as a sword otaku. He canonically had a massive collection of swords in his youth that he carted around everywhere and wore a different one each day so they would all be appreciated. His love interests most successful flirtation was showing him his armory and just letting him run around picking everything up and infodumping about swords for several hours. Also he could wreck anyone. AND he's gay.
For Ballister:
he could tell when his sword was switched out for a fake, graduated top of his class so we know he's a good fighter, also the scene where he's fighting is hot because he's so confident with a sword in his hand, also he's gay
A canonically gay, disabled, South Asian man takes down the government with his genderqueer shapeshifter sidekick/adopted daughter! He has a swordfight with his ex-boyfriend! in which he defeats about 20 knights singlehandedly! 
top of his knight class this man is a master swordsman
(Movie) He has used a sword since he broke into the Institutes training ground and ended up becoming a knight
He has very divorced vibes with Ambrosius and he uses a sword.
He's a legit knight! So, it's in the fine print.
According to the Nimona movie, Ballister here has been practicing the art of sword fighting since childhood to earn the trust of the city and he was SO CLOSE to becoming a knight. He's also definitely not dating another one of his knight mates (?). Nope. Not at all. This movie is super straight /s I think he also beats an entire army of knights with nothing but his sword and a chaotic good shapshifter so that's pretty cool. He's also south Asian, has a prosthetic arm he made himself and is honestly such a goofy guy (in a good way ofc) if that's anything.
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lycheeloving · 28 days
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ANOTHER MULTIVERSE FIC because I can't stop myself, apparently. An injustice!Superman one, this time. I imagine you were a small-time hero/vigilante in this one, so Superman knew (and liked) you before he turned bad, but you weren't super close, before.
-You wake up in an unfamiliar room, tied to a chair, not knowing how you got there. Kal doesn't ever let you leave the fortress. But you don't know how anyone else could have gotten in to take you here, wherever here is. Maybe it was Kal? But why would he do that?
-You spot a woman tied up in another chair next to you, it seems like she also just woke up. She reminds you of someone, but you can't remember who exactly... You want to ask her if she knows more about what's going on, when you realize you're both gagged. Shit. You can't even communicate with her!
-A man comes in, rambling something about how he's glad you're finally awake and about his plan finally taking shape. You feel like you should know this guy, but can't quite put a finger on it...
-Being unsure if you know who he is, as you're "not from here", he introduces himself. He's Lex Luthor.
-Wait. Lex Luthor? The Lex Luthor? The dead one, who was killed by Superman? Is this a prank? Because if so, it isn't funny at all. And quite dangerous for everyone involved.
-Luthor (if that is his real name) then focuses on the woman next to you. He addresses her as "Mrs. Lane".
-Lane as in Lois Lane? Like, Lois Lane from the Daily Planet? Clark Kent's, Superman's wife? Now you know something is extremely wrong. She's dead, too, and everyone knows not to mention her name unless they want to face Superman's wrath... You make a few muffled sounds beneath your gag, itching to ask about just what is going on here.
-Luthor says he's going to explain everything, don't be so impatient! He has a machine that can open portals to parallel universes, which is how he got you here. His plan includes kidnapping the person that is most important to Superman in his own universe (Lois Lane), the person most important to Superman in a second universe (You!) and then making the Supermen fight each other by threatening your lives. The only way to save you is if one Superman dies. This room is Superman proof, he can't hear or see anything that's happening in here, so they can't just swoop in and save you. After the fight, he's going to let the winning Superman enter this room, promising him that he can rescue Lois or you. Except not really, because he's going to try to kill the winner too, because that should be easier after he just fought another Superman, right? He hasn't opened a portal to let the Superman from your universe know about how he can save you, yet. He closed the portal he got you through immediately after kidnapping you, so he had more time to prepare everything. How he found you? Something about being able to detect kryptonian dna residue on you. And you were in Superman's fortress. Easy to combine that you must be important to him.
-That's... actually not a terrible plan! Sure, it might not work out exactly the way that Luthor is planning, but beating Superman with Superman is a great idea! Actually it'd be great if Luthor got a third one here. Two Supermen should definitely be able to defeat one Superman, right? Unfortunately you can't communicate any of this through your gag. Damn, you'd love to help him improve his plan...
-You wonder if he chose your universe completely randomly, or if he chose an evil Superman on purpose. You don't think he did, he didn't mention the regime with one word, and if it existed in this universe he wouldn't be working on this stupid plan. And Lois wouldn't be alive, probably.
-Before you can let your thoughts spiral even more, Luthor falls over. Huh? Is he unconscious? You spot Batman coming towards you. Ah. That explains that, then. Man, you haven't seen Batman in such a long time...
-"Are you two alright?" He quickly cuts through the ropes tying you to the chairs, freeing you. "Good thing you used your bat emergency-signal, Lois. I was able to get to you before Superman could fall for Luthor's trap." Wait, why would Lois contact Batman? Oh, right, sometimes you forget that he and Superman used to be friends, so obviously his wife would trust him too.
-He takes off both of your gags and then turns to you. "We figured out you're from a parallel universe, but don't worry, Nightwing is currently working on a way to get in contact with the Superman from your dimension, so-"
-"NO!", you scream, making Batman look at you in confusion. You quickly tell him to contact Nightwing, to make him stop trying to open a portal or god forbid, contact Kal!! Noticing the urgency in your voice, Batman quickly complies and lets Nightwing know to stop what he's doing, before asking you to elaborate. Phew! The last thing you need is an angry Superman wreaking havoc in a second universe.
-You start explaining to Batman about how your Superman started changing for the worse after Lois died (sparing the details, as she's kind of sitting right next to you), started to get darker, kill villains, everyone who did something bad, people who disagreed with him. Other heroes, even. People he used to be friends with. How everyone who didn't agree with him and join his regime, including you and Batman, had to go into hiding, trying to find a way to stop him. Clark, no KAL-EL found you at some point, but instead of killing you, he unexpectedly took you, basically imprisoned you. Kept you like a pet who's not smart enough to make their own decisions. (You never even knew he liked you like that at all, before that. Sure, he was always nice to you, but he had Lois!)
-Lois seems visibly shocked, whereas Batman just listens to you stoically. "All this to say, it's good to see you alive, Lois!" You smile weakly. She tries to smile back, but before she can respond, Batman cuts her off. "We should leave this place. I doubt it's very safe here. We should return to the Batcave, think of a plan." You spare one last glance at Luthor, who's still lying on the floor (Are we just going to leave him here? Huh. Ok.), then follow Batman outside.
-As soon as you're out of the building, something rushes past you. "Lois! Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Not something. Someone. You try not to flinch as he fusses over her, while she reassures him that she's fine multiple times.
-After he's convinced she's not hurt, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Hello! So you're close to the Superman in another dimension, then?" As he takes a step towards you, you instinctively take a step back towards Batman. Clark frowns at him quizzically. It's funny, he almost looks like a confused puppy. You would smile if you didn't know that this is all a facade to distract from his god-like, destructive powers.
-"Turns out the other version of you is some kind of evil dictator." Well, leave it to Batman to get straight to the point. Clark opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking about what to say. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not like the Superman you know. I promise you, I'm a good person! At least I try my best to be one. You don't have to be scared." His voice is getting increasingly gentle, trying to reassure you.
-"Oh yeah? That's exactly what the Superman from my dimension would have said, before..." You don't mention his wife's death, not wanting to anger him. "The same thing could happen to you. You might be nice now, but who knows what the future holds?" As you're saying this, you slowly move slightly behind Batman. Just in case. He should have some kryptonite on him, right?
-Superman just frowns harder, then turns to Lois. "We should go home." He picks her up and turns to Batman. "Contact me as soon as you have plans for... handling the other me." With that, he takes off.
-Batman ushers you into the Batmobile, where Nightwing (another ghost, to you) is already waiting. You keep turning to look at him during the drive to the Batcave, while Bruce explains the situation to him. If they notice your weird looks, they don't mention it.
-You allow yourself to feel some hope. Maybe you can contact your Bruce? Help him out! Send a few still good Supermen! Your head is spinning with ideas, and you're sure Batman can come up with even better ones. You can't help but smile, your nightmare might finally be over...
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weebsinstash · 4 months
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Ya know, I've made posts about the yandere Batfamily before, and I've been thinking lately about one person in particular, and I think I've decided that Alfred is probably the most dangerous and formidable person in that entire house and have been brainstorming what a formidable platonic yandere guardian sorta figure he would be
For one, he's the man that canonically kept THE Batman from going over the edge, basically THE sole reason Bruce Wayne grew into the man he is. Literally, in alternate universes where Bruce never had Alfred, he literally 9 times out of 10 becomes a murdering sociopath. Alfred doesn't just have intelligence, he has EMOTIONAL intelligence
We're talking about the tenured elderly man who is former MI6 and doesn't give a fuck about murder, has killed, and will kill again. Bruce finds someone attacking you, he'll beat them up and cart them off to jail to be arrested and rehabilitated. Alfred will pull a pistol on a robber and shoot him dead before he allows you to get even a single scratch on you, just puts the guy down, "oh dear, I suppose I'll be late making dinner tonight, it seems I'll have to give testimony to Mr Gordon again"
I've seen fics where the sidekicks kidnap Reader or disable them for Bruce's sake, but don't you think Bruce himself would cross that line for Alfred? This man cooks, cleans, does everything for him, is practically a second father and his greatest friend, really kind of RAISED HIM. I just picture Alfred getting attached to Reader like you're practically his grandchild and then you return to your normal life, move out after staying them for a period of time or whatever, and Bruce can tell Alfred is... out of sorts, a little sad frown on his old withered face as he absent-mindedly sweeps the same corner of the same room for an hour, sighing, thinking about how he wanted to teach you all sorts of things, but, you're just gone now. Siiiiiiiiigh. And Bruce can't stand seeing Alfred like, actually depressed, even making mistakes he doesn't usually make, dropping things, lacking his usual playful sarcastic wit, just kind of a shell of his former self. You don't think you'd be getting an extra super special Uber ride in the Batmobile from the Dark Knight himself after that?
But I also think Alfred would be capable of really putting his foot down. He once told a disrespectful Damian he should be thankful Alfred wasn't his father in a very "because I'd actually discipline you" coded sort of way, and, say Reader grew up without a dad, or any parents and maybe has some traumas and potential behavioral issues from that. I could see Alfred being the kindest, sweetest, most patient grandpa, teaching you how to bake, keeping you company in the library, teaching you all kinds of things, and then the second you do things like start getting drunk, acting out, THROWING things, then he's putting his foot down, "now you listen HERE! Your behavior is absolutely unacceptable and you will not be allowed to degrade yourself within the walls of this home!" and manages to simultaneously scold you without putting you down, leaving you in ashamed embarrassed tears over your behavior that you're standing there crying, and he pulls you to take a seat in a nice chair and starts combing your hair and telling you he just wants best for you while you're bawling for his forgiveness, and he tells you he's already forgiven you and that he can run you a nice bath before bed
I can see a captive Reader scenario where you manage to break out of the house while everyone else is gone and you think, oh, you're home free! Batman and everyone else is busy! Lost in your own hubris as if Alfred doesn't have perfect knowledge of everything in the Batcave including the equipment and vehicles. You're in an alley cornered by a bunch of drunks who just want to beat the shit out of someone and suddenly, is that Batman? Wait, the costume is different, and the height, and, the body shape, and, and, and it doesn't even matter because Alfred can still lay all of them flat, blood on his knuckles as he wearily regards you, "you're not going to make a tired old man have to carry you to the car, are you?" and after what you just saw, you know better than to put up resistance
But like I can't get over the idea of, Reader staying at the Wayne residence for a limited period of time, you're injured and Bruce is offering you safe harbor, you're being targeted by a specific criminal group and need protection until the thugs are caught, something along those lines, and, one day, when everything is better, you just. Leave unexpectedly. They had already offered you a permanant place in the house but you still seem to be falling into a depression until one day you're straight up gone, only leaving a note that Alfred is the one to find, only 3 word, "Thank you. Sorry." and hr suddenly??? Can't think straight??? You're gone??? Why??? Why didn't you tell them?? Are you hurt?? Did they do something wrong??? How is he supposed to know if you're sad or if you're hungry or if you're in DANGER if he doesn't know where you are and what you're doing at all possible hours?
Just visualizing the idea of Bruce coming home one day and you're suddenly in the house again and you're seeming very much distressed but Alfred is looking fit as a fiddle again and it is very extremely incredibly obvious to Bruce that Alfred straight up brought you back against your will. But. He doesn't care because he agrees with Alfred that OBVIOUSLY since you're a member of the FAMILY NOW that OF COURSE you have to stay in the house
Can you imagine yandere Alfred but Bruce and everyone else is just, totally normal and just hardcore mega coping with Alfred's sudden change in behavior and occasional questionable actions. One day Alfred is dusting and without turning around, "Master Bruce, would you care to fetch my granddaughter for me while i finish this room?" and Bruce is just like "granddaughter????" And Alfred looks to him like he just said something BEYOND stupid, "Yes, my granddaughter, about ye high, awfully broody much like yourself, currently housed in the spare second floor bedroom at the end of the hall on the right? You act as if she didnt help bake that casserole you and the boys absolutely devoured last night"
Nightwing going down into the Batcave for like actual mission stuff and Alfred is already using the Batcomputer to monitor all your online internet use. What's that, some young man is trying to slide into your DMs? O-oh no, there was, uh, suddenly a glitch and he received a threatening message with no traceable source that told him to stay the bloody hell away from you! Whoops!
You're just his captive little grandchild who he helps teach recipes to and teaching you anything you're curious about. You make an offhanded comment one day that you would've loved to learn to play piano "but I'm too old now/it's too late now/I probably wouldn't be any good at it" and later on, after Alfred has brought you back after trying to live alone again (you being drugged if need be), and when you wake up he's all smiles, telling you about all the new structure he's about to introduce to your life, and, of course, you have to pick a day of the week for your new (now mandatory) piano lessons :) on Mondays you'll go for walks and have tea in the garden, Tuesdays you'll read in the library, on Wednesdays you'll learn piano, on Thursday he'll teach you a new recipe every week, Friday--- this old man is gonna force you to be productive and happy is all I'm gonna say
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beskarandblasters · 5 months
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Din’s First Christmas
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: From my (simpleton) understanding, Life Day is typically for Wookies only so I just decided to make this an AU where Christmas is in Star Wars!
Summary: In an alternate universe where Christmas exists in Star Wars, you and Din crash land on a snowy planet. While you’re there, you take a walk into a local village and find out that it’s Christmas, but it’s also Din’s first Christmas. So you decide to show him all of the traditions and give him his first Christmas present ever.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established relationship, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), AU (Christmas in Star Wars), takes place when Grogu is with Luke and when Din is an apostate, discussions of holidays traditions/religious customs, references to intimacy issues, angst to fluff to smut, Din wears a chain 👀, oral sex (F receiving), Din is a MUNCH, super loving and romantic sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of Mando'a words/phrases (Cyar'ika = sweetheart, Mesh’la = beautiful, Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum = I love you), no use of y/n
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Snow falls on top of your head as you’re shivering all while Din’s trying to fix the Razor Crest. To put it lightly, it’s not going well. You basically crash-landed on this random planet that you really can't remember the name of. As soon as you breached the atmosphere something went wrong with the Crest and Din’s still trying to figure out what happened exactly. And it’s taking him a while. 
“Din?” you ask, resting your hand on his back while he grumbles in frustration. He’s getting nowhere. 
“Yes?” he sighs. 
“Do you think you should take a break?”
“We have to get off this planet.”
“You’re making yourself so angry over this. Why don’t we walk to the village nearby?”
He sighs again. You can almost see the stress leaving his body as his shoulders slump. “Okay, let’s go.”
You walk to the village that you spotted earlier amid your crash landing. It’s so brightly lit and as you get closer you realize that it’s not just any lights; the village is decorated with Christmas lights. 
“Din… I think it’s Christmas here,” you say, turning and looking at him as you enter the village. 
“I don’t know much about Christmas.”
“Really?”
“Mandalorians don’t celebrate Christmas,” he says sadly. 
He looks up at the multicolored Christmas lights, strung from building to building. The light reflects beautifully off his armor, drenching him in shades you’ve never seen on him before. Christmas suits him, you decide. 
“Well, we can celebrate now,” you smile, “Might as well while you’re an apostate,” you joke. 
He doesn’t say anything and you fear you’ve overstepped. 
“I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I shouldn’t-”
“No, you’re right. I just don’t know where to start.”
“Let’s see. People do all sorts of things for Christmas! Like looking at all the lights and decorations, making cookies, going Christmas caroling, and exchanging presents. Whatever you want to start with.”
And speaking of presents, you have one for him. He doesn’t know about it of course, nor do you expect anything back. You’ll give it to him back at the Crest.
“Let’s start with the lights,” he says. 
You nod and lead the way through the village. It’s crowded but that’s to be expected on a holiday. Din’s not one for public displays of affection but as you weave through the bustling streets of the village, he presses himself closer to you and keeps a hand on the small of your back, as if you’re going to slip away from him. It makes your heart skip a beat. Affection and intimacy have been a little scarce ever since Grogu left. And then add the stress of becoming an apostate on top of that. You understand, though. It’s a lot for one person to go through in a short amount of time. Lack of intimacy aside, it’s nice to see him enjoying himself for once, even if only for a fleeting moment everything feels normal again. 
The lights are beautiful, strung from building to building in brilliant shades of red, blue, green, yellow, and pink. Snow is piled high on the rooftops and flurries cascade down from the sky. It’s something out of a postcard. 
“What do you think?” you ask. 
“It’s nice,” he says. 
“Looking at all of the lights was always my favorite thing about Christmas as a kid.”
“I can see why.”
“What do you want to do next?”
“You said something about cookies?”
“Mhm. I know we can’t make them ourselves but I’m sure there’s a bakery here.”
He nods and you continue walking the streets, still looking at all of the lights but also keeping an eye out for a bakery. And then you spot one as you turn a corner, tapping Din on the arm and pointing at it. 
“Let’s go!”
You open the door and you’re hit with the scent of freshly baked cookies. It’s so comforting but you can only assume Din can’t smell much of anything underneath his helmet. That fills you with sorrow and a sense of longing for him. 
You try to bury your feelings down and look at the cookies with Din. It’s rather funny seeing this big, strong man made of metal in this quaint little bakery looking at cookies. It’s an odd sight for the villagers, too, judging by their stares. Not that Din cares. He used to this.
Regardless, you look at the cookies on the display, cut out into cute little shapes. Stuff like snowflakes and stars, but also things like Wookies and Ewoks. You purchase a half dozen from the owner, choosing a few different shapes before leaving and stepping back out into the showy street.  
“Anything else you want to try before we head back?”
“I’m not singing,” he says quickly.
“I didn’t think you would,” you laugh.
It’s silent for a moment and you’re left with your thoughts and the snow falling around you. The lights are bouncing off his armor and he seems so calm for the first time in a long time. And now seems like the perfect time to tell him about the present.
“I have a present for you.”
“What?” he says, sounding almost distraught.
“I have a Christmas present for you,” you say, your lips curling into a smile.
“But… I didn’t get you anything.”
“I don’t expect anything, Din. It’s your first Christmas. I just want to make it special for you.”
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“Let’s go back, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
You walk back to the Crest, carrying the box of cookies as you trudge through the snow. You’re so excited to give him his first Christmas present. But you’re also a tad nervous. He’s not exactly the easiest person to shop for so you had to get a little creative.
He lowers the exit ramp and you head inside. The Crest is only damaged in the front, thank the Maker, so the inside is a refuge from the cold weather. You set the cookies down on a shelf and head to the hiding spot you chose for your present. You live in such a small, confined place so you really had to hide it. Buried deep in a trunk underneath a pile of your clothes is a drawing you made of you, Din, and Grogu. Din’s wearing his helmet of course and you’re standing side by side with his arm around you while he holds Grogu with his other arm. You had it put into a frame while he was off chasing a bounty one day on an Outer Rim planet. Now that you’re looking at the drawing and looking back at him, who’s standing behind you and trying to get a peek at what the present is, you’re worried he’s gonna hate it. It’s not something you just picked up at a shop, it’s something you put so much thought and love into. And it involves Grogu. He’s such a sensitive topic for Din right now. All you can do is give it to him and hope he likes it.
You stand up and turn to face him, keeping the drawing behind your back.
“Merry Christmas,” you say, holding the drawing out in front of you.
He doesn’t say anything, taking it in his hands and inspecting it. Your mind is racing, convincing yourself that he hates it. And you’re pretty sure you should never do something like this again actually.
“It’s… perfect,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah… This is so thoughtful.”
“I hope it came out okay. I had to draw Grogu from memory. I might’ve made his ears too big.”
“No, it’s great. We look great.”
Before you can say anything else, he sets the drawing down on a crate and lifts the helmet off his head. He turns back to you and pulls you in for a kiss, holding you by your waist. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Of course. It was morning,” you say, finishing with another kiss. 
“It was not nothing. It was sweet,” he says, kissing you again and pulling you into him closer. 
After he kisses you, he brings you in for a hug, resting your head against his breastplate.
“Thanks for giving me my first Christmas present,” he says softly. 
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you like it.”
“I love it, cyar’ika.”
This just feels so nice, so natural again. You’ve missed his touch and affection for a while now. And while you would never pressure him and push him for something he isn’t ready for, you can’t deny that you’re enjoying this. It warms your heart to know that it was your Christmas present that made him feel comfortable enough to show you affection. You lean into his touch and wrap your arms around his waist just standing there and holding each other. 
“Do you have to go back to working on the Crest right now?” you say, pulling back to look at him, eyes pleading for more quality time with him.
“No, I guess not,” he says with a smirk. 
“Well, what do you wanna do now?”
“I have a few ideas,” he says, a hand trailing down to your ass, grabbing one cheek and squeezing it. You can’t believe your ears. 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” he says, pushing you lightly towards the cot. 
He continues kissing you and you move towards the cot, his hands roaming your body. All you can think about is how you have to get your clothes off already and feel his skin against yours; feel the warmth of his touch. As you reach the cot, you break away from the kiss, shedding layers of your clothes, and tossing them in a pile on the floor. You look at Din who’s simply overdressed and ask him, “Do you want me to take your armor off?” while passing a hand over the bugle in his flight suit. 
“Kriff, yes,” he says with a strained voice. 
And so you do, starting with his shoulder pauldrons and working downward. You remove each piece of armor, every weapon, and his cape until he’s down to just his flight suit and boots. He takes off his boots and sets them by the neat stack of armor in the corner of the room, leaving you to unzip his flight suit. You peel it off of him and his cock springs free. Now you’re completely bare in front of each other, with the exception of Din’s chain around his neck. You haven’t done anything like this in a while, and it feels natural; like everything is right in the galaxy for a fleeting moment. He’s glued to you almost immediately, marking your body with lips while his hands roam your flesh. He kisses you all over, murmuring words of love and praise into your skin. 
“You’re so beautiful, cyar’ika,” he says, lips ghosting along the curve of your waist. 
“How did I get so lucky?” he continues, falling to his knees and kissing along your groin, “Lay down for me, cyar’ika,” he says, peering up at you. His pupils are blown so wide that only a small ring of brown is left; so full of love.
You do as you’re told, lying down on the cot and your feet planted on the floor. He kneels in front of your legs, spreading them apart and immediately burying his face in your cunt. For someone who’s only taken up giving head since becoming an apostate, he’s surprisingly good at it already. His tongue swirls around your clit before moving down to your entrance. His nose grinds against your clit as he laps at your wetness, reveling in your taste and your scent. His eyes are locked on you, watching as your chest heaves up and down, admiring your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, and taking note of your perked-up nipples. He loves seeing the physical reactions you have as he pleases you. Your back arches up off the cot as you cum, stars dancing in your vision. He keeps licking your cunt through your orgasm, moaning as he tastes your release. Your back returns to the cot and he pulls away, resting his head on your inner thigh and looking up at you with the lower half of his face glistening. 
“You taste so good, cyar’ika,” he sighs, in complete bliss. 
You giggle and move to sit upright, getting ready to suck his cock. But he stops you pushing you back down on the bed lightly with his hand on your tummy.
“No, let me take care of you. You’ve been so patient with me…” he says with wide eyes as if he’s desperate to please you; desperate to seek your approval.
“Are you sure?”
“I am,” he says quickly. 
“You’re too sweet,” you say, as he stands up and gathers your wetness with his hand. He gives his cock a few strokes and you watch as pre-cum leaks from the tip and moves with the motion of his foreskin. He aligns himself with your entrance, getting ready to take you just like this, with him standing at the edge of the cut. But you stop him before he enters you. 
“Wait,” you say and he looks at you with wide eyes again. “I want you close to me,” you continue, inching up farther on the cot to make room for him. He nods and moves to hover over you. You spread your length to accommodate how broad he is and he slowly thrusts into you, sighing at the warm, inviting feeling encapsulating his cock. 
“Maker, I missed this,” he says, looking into your eyes with the same love-filled expression.
“You, feel so good, Din, ah!” you moan, your voice jumping an octave as he draws his hips back and slams into you.
He rests on his elbows on either side of your head, his face only inches away from yours. His chain dangles from his neck and makes contact with your chin. You look down at the silver metal, moving with each thrust Din makes, and take it into your mouth. His eyes widen and lets out a small gasp, followed but a guttural moan. 
“Kriff, cyar’ika, I didn’t know you were into that,” he says, mindblown by your small gesture.
“You like my chain in your mouth, huh? It’s for you and only you, mesh’la,” he continues, getting more and more turned on by the sight of his chain in between your teeth. And in that moment he decides he just has to kiss you. He takes the chain out of your mouth with his fingers and kisses you before you can protest. The kiss is ravenous and breathless, desperate even as if you’re going to slip away and he can’t get enough of you. He moans against your lips and keeps the same pace as he thrusts in and out of you. 
He pulls back and hovers over your face for a moment to look at you and say, “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” always in Mando’a of course. You repeat the phrase back to him just before he crashes his lips against yours. And just as he does that you cum around his cock, walls fluttering and pulsating in rhythmic waves. Your orgasm triggers his own and he cums inside you, the head of his cock nestled against your cervix. Once he’s done and also feels the end of your orgasm, he pulls out and lies down beside you. You place yourself in the crook of his neck and rest against him, moving your hand to his chest and fiddling with his chain. 
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what? Having sex with you?”
“No, for being… the best. Like I said before, you’ve been so patient with me.”
“Of course, Din, You went through a lot.”
“I know but I shouldn’t have been so withdrawn…”
“It’s understandable, Din,” you say, turning and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. “I never took it personally,” you finish, twirling his chain in between your fingers.
“Thanks for my Christmas present,” he smiles.
“I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can keep celebrating when you redeem yourself.”
“You know what? Why not?” he says, bringing a hand to the back of your head and pulling you closer for a kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Din,” you whisper against his lips.
“Merry Christmas, cyar’ika.”
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vrmxlho · 1 year
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hii kira !! do u have any hcs for sae abt how he would be as a bf?
SAE ITOSHI 糸師冴
if sae were a love trope he would 100% be belated love epiphany
"i never realised how much i loved them until they were gone." type beat yk
like pride and prejudice, except he's elizabeth and you're darcy ??
where you confess first and he rejects you but once you're not near him he realises that he really did love you
or when he saw how loaded you were, you be the judge (kidding)
y'all already know i think he's a good cook. like he was in spain for ages you bet he picked a few things up. cuz idk about spanish men but ik most italian men know how to cook and well.
he pours all his love into everything he makes, probably his love language honestly.
but he'd never let you know he's cooking for you because he cares
"you look like a ghost have you been eating properly?" "oh, no. unfortunately, i haven't found much time to cook lately..." "how bothersome. am i gonna have to take you all the way to the hospital when you faint from anemia?" "but i'm not even anemic..." "you will be if you don't eat your spinach." "..." "you know what. since you're so incapable i'll just cook for you." "excuse me??"
forgive him, he's just a bit of a cunt, but he loves you i promise
(also if you didn't know fun fact: preparing a homemade meal for someone is akin to confessing your feelings to them)
he's not much for PDA in fact in public he has his same, stupid, emotionless, deadpan face that is so punchable (affectionately?)
but when you're at home he'll find any excuse to lean his whole bodyweight on you
he also loves leaning in to kiss you and then reaching behind you to grab something or whatever, just to leave you flushed and stressed the fuck out
annoying asshole
he also gets very touchy when tired, if you're sleeping next to each other he tends to end up hugging you close to his heart by the time you wake up
he may not seem it but he would genuinely do anything for you
he tends to ignore most messages/texts/emails unless they're super important but he'd reply to you the second you text him
or even if it's a silly tweet
@you: there are 2 many ppl at this café 😞 @officialsaeitoshi: send me your location i got you your usual @you: ayo, how did you have it prepared n everything 😭 @officialsaeitoshi: spidey senses
he also has the most deadpan, sarcastic humour known to man
he's horrible (just my type)
nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted
beware!!!
he is the no.1 gossiper alive, he knows everything about everyone's business even if he looks like the type of person who'd never think of anyone other than himself
somehow he's both at the same time
he could go hours talking about this random guy in his club who's actually the secret son of a drug lord and who ran away from home to save himself from imminent death...
what???? how does he know this?
i'm pretty sure he doesn't know either, anyway
he loves his lil self care night routines
you both sitting on the sofa talking about life (actually it's just him talking and you listening but whatever)
sae itoshi was an evening person. not because he felt most productive then. and not because he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the city. but because he enjoyed his night routines with you right next to him every second. you'd sit on the sink sill as he gently passed a finger with clay on it over your face as you kept talking about your day. "and then when i went to get coffee there were just so many people at the café it was such a hassle. this guy–" "shush. do you want clay in your mouth?" he kept swiping the remaining clay mask on your now stationary chin. once done he lifted you and walked to the sofa. this was no new routine. this was the only way he was able to unwind. with you next to him, just talking about the little, almost meaningless things. "i read somewhere that your coach is having an affair is that true?" you didn't know why you kept instigating him. it was late and you knew if he began talking now he'd only finish once the sun rose or your wake up alarm rang. but seeing him so animated was a rarity so you had to take advantage anytime you could.
now for how he confessed
at first when you confessed he rejected you and didn't think much of it at all
until he started noticing the little things about you, he started obsessing with every bit of you
how you looked, how you dress, how you style your hair
but also how your under eyes crease when you smile
how you're very picky with your food, especially dessert, but you'd eat anything if someone handmade it for you
how you're so patient when you tutor even if the person is being a dumbfuck
after obsessing over everything you did for about a day or two he was sick of the weird, nauseating feeling in his stomach
it had been about three days since the confession. being rejected right on the spot, especially in that cold manner was painful to say the least. but you were sure you had gotten over it. and you hoped with all your heart that he too had forgotten. he had just stood there as you finished telling him how he made you feel and how you had liked him for a while now. he had a horrible scowl on his face, arms crossed and an uninterested posture. you already knew what the answer was when you were done but it hurt so much more when he finally confirmed it all. so it was surprising when you saw sae march up to you as you ate your lunch with your friends. he had the same horrible scowl on his face from before. and you could feel your stomach drop as he pulled your wrist in a gruff manner. careless. he didn't care for you. "itoshi what are you–" he finally stopped once you were in a quiet corner behind the main building, away from curious eyes. "we need to talk." "about what?" "i couldn't sleep." "ok..?" "i couldn't stop thinking about you." "oh. i'm sorry if my confession made you uncomfortable. i didn't mean for it to bother you so much." "yes. it's so bothersome. now every time i see you with anyone but me, it hurts. i can't stand hearing about anyone but me, from you. i don't want you to think of anyone but me."
and then you were just like 😧🫣😏🤩
if you think rin's dramatic just WAIT until you talk to sae he's insane
THE BIGGEST drama queen (i hate him)
although i do think he is secure about himself and knows you wouldn't ever hurt him
i feel like he does have abandonment issues (a bit)
like imagine going through your teen years without family in a foreign country, you'd feel isolated no matter how many friends you made or how nice your host family was
he tries not giving any external reaction so you barely notice at first but every time he sees you with someone, looking a bit too friendly, he always feels his heart tighten
he's very gentle when kissing you
it's not like he's super strong or anything (mans is tiny)
and it's not that he's scared to hurt you, he just doesn't wanna appear too possessive or anything
favourite places to kiss you: why do i wanna say your waist, also knuckles
no idea why i just feel like if he weren't allowed to kiss your lips for any reason he would kiss there
but he definitely needed you to initiate the physical contact when you first started dating
speaking of which
dates with sae
100% movie nights, or just staying at home in general
mans hates going out if it's unnecessary
although, if you want anything he'd do it for you in an instant
or when he's feeling extra energetic
he'll take you dancing; this can either be ballroom dancing (which makes you cringe a bit but it's fun), salsa or literally just clubbing
i think he secretly loves clubbing at techno clubs (is that what they're called?) he hates commercial music cuz it just gets so repetitive
ideal vacation destination: somewhere isolated
like a random island in greece
or some forest in south america
idk man
he absolutely hates tourist destinations, tourists are his no.1 worst enemy
that's why you always end up going on holiday at random times of the year
"hey love, take a few days off next week. we're going to bora–bora." "it's the middle of march..." "not in bora–bora." "that's not how it works..." "i've already bought the tickets and spoken to your boss so you really just have to start packing."
now about pet names
he generally doesn't like them and thinks they're cringe and annoying
which they can be if used excessively ig
he tends to call you by a nickname or just your name
he only uses pet names when he wants something or has something to tell you that he knows you'll be angry/annoyed about
like the fact he planned a whole trip to bora–bora in middle of march and didn't tell you a thing 😞
however, if you're open about how much you hate him doing things without involving you he will change his ways
he's a quick learner after all ❤️‍🔥
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allinestarr · 4 months
Text
Relentless (1/?)
Max Verstappen x Fem Driver Reader!
Y/n YLN was the only other driver others feared on the track besides the Dutchman himself. She maintained a 1st to 2nd place spot on the podium every race. Even though she was fairly new to F1 and in her 2nd season, she was a force to be reckoned with. The only problem was she had yet to win a championship. Max always beat her to it. The rivalry started early on when they had there first run in, quite literally, in Spain. It was lap 64 and y/n was ahead of Max leading the race until he got within DRS range and tried pushing past her and in the last second she turned to defend but it was to late. He hit the back of her car and they spun out. Max was able to stop before hitting the barrier but she hit head on.
“ Y/n are you ok???. Please respond”, Liz your race engineer asked.
Seconds passed by and there was no response and as smoke started to come out of the engine the extent of the accident raised a new level of urgency. The safety car came on track as drivers began returning to the pits. Max was already out of the car but instead of checking on you he walked back to his garage.
“ Y/n, say something!!.”
Again, nothing. Every second felt like forever to onlookers and just as they feared the worst, you groaned as you turned the radio on and with a shaky breath rasped out,
“Ok…”
Liz along with the rest of the crew breathed out a sigh of relief as you responded. The more you thought about how you got here, the more your head hurt. Most likely a concussion. The smell of burning rubber and the smoky haze snapped you back to reality as you turned around to see a small fire coming from the engine. It didn’t take you long for you to react as you reached down, unbuckled yourself and climbed out. Your knees buckled when you stood and had no choice but to crawl away from the car as the flames grew. Everything happened so fast that you zoned out. When you finally came back to, you were in the ambulance headed to the hospital.
The total damage was a concussion, a fucked up car and your pride. After being on a winning streak since the begging of the season it was gone in the blink of an eye. They wanted to keep you overnight but you refused and returned to the garage.
As much as you wanted to be anywhere but here, you felt you owed an explanation to Toto. It technically wasn't your fault but that didn't stop you from blaming yourself.
" Toto I really want to apologize. I tried to defend but I didn't think he would hit me. I'm so sorry I disappointed you.."
"Y/n don't. It wasn't your fault. You're an amazing driver and I have full confidence in you. You'll be back on top by the next race so don't beat yourself up. All that matters is that you're ok."
Toto wasn't a super affectionate guy but he had a soft spot for you. He hugged you before being called away by an engineer. Although his words were reassuring they didn't make you feel better. The expectations were high from others, but not as much as your own.
The race was over and the results were in. Checo first, Charles second and Carlos third. The first podium without Mercedes since the beginning of the season. Lewis got 4th so we still gained points. The disappointment you felt in yourself was strong but the anger overshadowed. As much as you wanted to march into the Red Bull garage and go ballistic on Max, the media would eat it up and spin it so you looked like an over emotional woman who didn’t belong there. So for now, you’d wait till you were away from prying eyes to address him. Lewis had just walked into the garage and stopped as soon as he saw you.
“ Y/n, you’re back!. How are you feeling??”
“ I’m ok, just pissed.”
Since joining Mercedes you immediately clicked with Lewis. He was the only person you felt comfortable opening up to and he actually listened and was honest when you needed to hear the truth. He knew how hard you were on yourself when you lost so he already planned to have a sleepover later with your favorite snacks and movie. It was a tradition at this point.
“ I just can’t believe he would do that. It was clearly sabotage. What pisses me off most is that he probably won’t get punished cause he’s Max Verstappen, the golden boy.”
Lewis sighed as he nodded. He knew first hand from losing his 8th championship to Max. After talking a little longer you eventually went your own ways for media duties. Every question was the same and so was every answer you gave, no comment. Looking around you hadn’t seen Max once. Pierre said that after the crash Max walked into his garage like a madman kicking shit around screaming and went straight to his room to change and left. What a pussy, you thought. The guys invited you out but you were just not in the mood. Lando tried his puppy dog eyes which in most cases worked, just not today.
Weirdly enough even after getting in a crash you still had energy to burn so you changed and headed to the gym. You were so deep into your workout you hadn't noticed Max had at some point walked in and made a beeline to you.
“ What the hell!” You screamed as someone yanked off your headphones. Max of course...
“You cost me a podium today!.”
“ Are you fucking delusional?. You tried to pass me, trashed my car and cost me a podium. You knew you wouldn’t be able to make it through and couldn’t bare the thought of losing to me again!.”
“You’re the one who swerved last second and caused the wreck!. You think you’re so good cause you won a few races?. You're pathetic!. Next time, get out of my way!.”
In that moment you had the textbook definition of black out rage cause your hand moved on its own as your fist collided with his nose.
“Crazy bitch!.”
You smirked as you grabbed him by his collar and brought his face closer to yours,
“ You have no idea. Humor me, are you threatened because I’m beating you or because I’m a girl and beating you?. Learn how to lose Verstappen cause you won't be on top forever, ill make sure of that.”
Max was at a loss for words. Who did this woman think she was challenging him?. Before he could respond you walked away.
Already showered and changed you heard a knock revealing a giddy Lewis with a bag of snacks and his signature smile. Settled in bed snuggled up to Lewis you thought about your encounter with Max.
“Everything ok?.”
You contemplated telling him about today but decided not to so you just nodded. He of course knew you were lying but didn’t press you since you weren’t in the mood so he accepted your answer. The movie ended and while Lewis was asleep you were awake thinking of how to win your next race and the race after and... actually why not think bigger. How about winning the rest of the season?. The thought of Max losing put a smile to your face as you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep.
It was a game of tit for tat fluctuating between 1st and 2nd place the rest of the season. Mercedes had never been better managing a podium every race and ending with 2nd in constructers by the end of the season. Red Bull kept there streak with 1st in constructors. Max was first in drivers but you took second much to Red bulls dismay since you took Checos spot. At this point Max was a 4 time champion. Usually everyone was planning vacations for break but all you could think of was the next season and the possibility to win your first championship. The best part wouldn’t just be the championship, it would be the look on Max’s face when you beat him to it. The thought was orgasmic. For now though you had a celebration to attend with the guys which unfortunately included Max. How bad can it be right?…..
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