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heartless-tate · 7 days

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Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader

Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words

A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!

WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.

The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.

You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.

Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?

Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.

And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.

You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.

A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.

You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.

“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.

“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.

“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.

“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“

“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.

“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.

“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”

His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.

“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.

“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.

“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.

“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.

He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.

Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.

“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.

“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.

“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.

Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.

Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.

He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.

“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.

You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And this is what you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living this bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.

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wooahaes · 4 months

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dream a little dream with me

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 9/13

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: skinship. food mentions. some slight angst.

daisy’s notes: oh to have a soulmate i meet with in my dreams...

summary: Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…

"Hello...?"

Jeonghan was maybe thirteen when he finally met you for the first time, and you'd already proven him wrong with your existence alone. When he had turned ten, he expected to feel... something. To lose all the colors within his vision, or maybe he would feel your pain or something physical. A name, your first thoughts, your first words... Except he felt nothing. It'd upset him, sure--most people were upset by that kind of thing just on the account of being considered an outsider to their peers. Yet now he'd found himself in a museum filled with paintings he couldn't fully make out, and surrounded by people with blurry faces... Except for you.

He'd blinked. "Hello?"

And you lit up, making your way over to him. "You're...?"

Jeonghan had furrowed his brow, watching you carefully. Why could he see you...? "I'm Jeonghan," he had said, thinking that was what you meant.

You'd given him your given name, too--last name melting into white noise for a second. For a moment, you stood there, brimming with excitement. "We're--We're soulmates."

Immediately, he'd felt lighter at the revelation. "Oh!" Then he paused, brows drawing together once more as a follow-up thought pushed into his head immediately. "Why haven't we met before?"

He'd seen the way you grew more upset, gaze no longer meet his own. "I'm... It's complicated." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I think... Our sleep schedules don't overlap?" You looked up. "I laid down to take a nap for a bit because I was feeling sick, so..."

So you weren't near him. He felt a sting of rejection, even though you hadn't said anything of the sort.. Emotions were weird at thirteen, after all, and something like his soulmate not being near him. Obviously, it wasn't your fault: you didn't pick where you lived. He looked around, and felt... awkward. It was different than meeting someone for the first time in reality. At least other people were around. Now, it just you and him in this dream together.

"Do you wanna talk?" He said after a moment. "Since... I don't know if I'll get to see you again."

"You aren't mad?"

He shook his head. "I just wish you were closer," he crossed his arms. "This isn't fair."

You frowned. "It's not... So let's talk."

The two of you strolled on your own, getting to know one another. He learned the country you were from, even though he wouldn't know what city or town you were in. He learned about this doughnut place in your hometown, though, that you loved to visit when you could. He told you school stories and about his own friends, about the pranks he'd pulled on his little sister... Little things to learn about one another. He learned your favorite color, you learned the foods he disliked...

And then all too soon, you had disappeared within seconds. He had called for you, only to realize that you must have woken up--or been woken up, since it was so sudden. When he woke up the next morning for school, he told his parents that he'd met his soulmate in his dreams (even though he couldn't fully remember your face once he was awake).

Thus began the cycle. He probably needed the naps he would start taking in an attempt to meet you again, but he'd grown used to pushing through his fatigue to work on schoolwork or to spend time with friends. Yet his parents always knew where he'd be when they came home from work, finding him asleep on his bed as he hoped to meet you again.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he could sit with you for a little while, long enough to see you off before you woke up for your own schooling. Other times, he'd get home far too late to see you. But every time the two of you met over the rest of your teenage years, you made it work. The two of you would talk more about yourselves, getting to know each other better. He learned how to tell when you were upset, and would let you vent if you needed to. You'd given him a space to talk freely about his own feelings, too: the things that made him happy, or the things that were worrying him in real life...

Most people didn't know about his 'other' life in his dreams. The one where the two of you would go on walks in a city, sometimes holding hands. He'd slowly begun to fall for you over time, realizing that the care you showed him was sweet. The two of you had been strangers years ago, and now he understood maybe that was why the two of you were soulmates.

When he tried to kiss you around eighteen, you stopped him.

"I wanna kiss you for real," you said to him, holding his hands. "I know it's unfair to ask you to wait for me, but--"

"I will." He hadn't hesitated. Although he had kissed a girl once before (he was fifteen, and he realized after he did it that he'd much rather be kissing the person in his dreams) and told you so, he'd held off on dating. He wanted to experience things with you.

You'd squeezed his hands. "You don't have to."

Were you rejecting him...? What if he started dating someone and he loved them more than he already loved you? Part of him felt like he knew he would leave that person if he met you face-to-face, and yet... That meant he would hurt someone else. He'd heard stories about soulmates who left partners to be with one another, and while they were happy, the people left behind grew to resent them. Could he really do that to another person?

"You don't want me to?" He'd pulled his hands from yours, feeling the tiny sting in his chest.

You shook your head. "No, I--I just don't want you to wait around for me forever. What if we never meet?"

But what if we do? Jeonghan felt his heart sink in his chest. "We will," he said. Jeonghan never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he had the naivete of a eighteen-year-old on his side. "I'll find you. I promise."

Before you could say something, you had begun to fade again. You were waking up. "Jeonghan--"

And then you were gone.

The first person Jeonghan had told about you was one of his college roommates, Joshua. He'd been listening to the way he'd been venting about how he felt he was annoying his soulmate whenever he sang, and waited until Seungcheol left for class to finally admit it out loud. He'd tell Seungcheol, too, soon: he just... needed to do it at his own pace. Both of his roommates seemed like good people who wouldn't judge him, but he'd already decided. Joshua first, and then Seungcheol. Deciding on that had made it easier, especially since Seungcheol was the busier of the two.

"My soulmate and I share dreams," he had said, pushing around the noodles in his ramyeon cup.

Joshua looked up. "Oh. Really?"

He nodded. "We talk whenever we can. It's hard. They're not from here. Depending on when I take a nap, I can either talk to them for a while or just ten minutes..."

"It sounds hard," Joshua nodded along. He'd sat backwards in his chair, leaning against the back of it with his chest, arms folded over the top. "So what are you doing to find them?"

Jeonghan said nothing.

"... Aren't you going to look for them?"

Jeonghan's gaze flickered up from his food. "I don't know. I don't know if they actually want to be found."

"That's--"

"We talked about it last time we met, a little over a year ago." He pushed around noodles more, never actually eating. "I'm in love with them. I don't know how they feel, although they said they'd rather kiss me for real when we meet. Then they said not to wait for them."

"It sounds like they're in love with you, too," he said.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "Then why tell me not to wait?"

"Well... They're not from here." Joshua rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe they don't want you to feel like you can't date or anything."

"Don't you think I've tried it before?" Jeonghan looked up. "After they said that, I tried to move on, and I spent the entire time comparing her to my soulmate. She's not them."

Joshua frowned. "Dude... If you spend the entire time comparing, them, you're not going to be happy--"

"I know that." Jeonghan let out a sigh. "I just... I tried being with other people. She wasn't the only girl I tried to date--or see at all." They're just my soulmate, and I realized how much I love them every time I try to be with someone else. But would Joshua understand that...? Or would he just sound over-dramatic for someone he'd never met in person?

"I... see." Joshua looked off. "I guess it's different when you know your soulmate."

Jeonghan softened a little when he saw the guilt on Joshua's face. "It's fine," he said. "I just... I wish I could go to them. I don't know where they are, exactly, and it's not like I can go find them."

Can't you? He pushed away the thought. The world was big. .He couldn't just go out and find you--at least, not without looking like a creep. As much as he wished he could just let go of that desire deep within him to be with you, even temporarily, he just couldn't. Not when he'd gotten to know you so deeply. He felt as though a part of him would always be with you now, and that he carried you with him wherever he went.

Joshua understood, though. He listened, and he gave Jeonghan his thoughts whenever he asked for him. Seungcheol would eventually do the same, once Jeonghan told him about his soulmate. Seungcheol hadn't shown any offense to not being told (it was Jeonghan's business, after all). And in the moments in-between, Jeonghan was with you in some way--either thoughts preoccupied with you or in the fleeting moments of sharing a dream space.

"I kissed someone," you confessed at one point. Jeonghan had been sitting underneath a tree with you, fashioning a flower crown out of the little yellow blossoms that littered the ground around him. You craned your neck to look at him, "Are you mad...?"

He shook his head. "Do you like this?"

At first, you didn't move, and he felt his heart falter. "I dunno," you confessed a moment later. "I feel like... Every person I meet, I keep comparing them to you. Like... Hannie would laugh at this joke. Or Hannie would think this. It's like... I can't get you out of my head."

His heart skipped a beat this time as he stared at you, his face growing redder by the second. "... Really?"

"I... I dunno. It's just--I don't want you to think I'm some sort of loser when we meet."

When. Not if. "So you want to find me?"

He saw the way you grew more flustered, eyes landing anywhere but him as you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting. "Yes. Are you mad?" You finally met his gaze. "I mean... I think I hurt you before. When I told you not to wait for me? And we never talked about it, so..."

Jeonghan set the flower crown into his lap, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'm not mad," he said softly. "Not anymore."

"So you were mad."

He nodded a little after a moment. "At first..." He drew his hand back, shifting over so that he could sit closer to you. "At first I was hurt," he said, "because I thought you didn't want to find me. And... And I really wanted to kiss you, so I thought you were rejecting me, and.. I talked to my friends about it and they told me that it was alright to feel hurt, but that I was making assumptions about how you felt. So..." He dropped his hand down, pressing his palms into the grass. "How do you feel?"

"I've always wanted to meet you," you said outright. "But... I was talking to a few friends, and they kept asking questions about where you lived, and whether we'd get the chance to meet. It felt kinda mean," you moved closer, pressing your back against the tree, so that you could sit next to Jeonghan. "Like... They don't get a guarantee that they'll meet their soulmates. What makes us different?"

"Well, we know each other," he said, hand slipping into your own. "It's easier to accept things if you don't know your soulmate."

"I guess," you nodded along. "But... I dunno, it just made me anxious that we'd never be able to find each other."

"We will," Jeonghan said softly. "We'll make it work. I want to try."

Your hand curled around his, squeezing it tighter. "I want to try, too," you said, firm in what you were committing to. "Hannie?" You paused for a moment, "Jeonghan...? I want to be with you. I know we've never met in person, but can we...?"

He nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, reaching his other hand up to turn your face toward him. "May I...?"

You closed the distance between the two of you. It left him wondering if your lips would be this soft in reality. The last thing he heard was the sound of you saying his name, about to say something else when he found himself back in his couch, heart racing in his chest. He had jolted forward, fully awake out of nowhere, enough that it alerted Joshua and Seungcheol. The two were sitting at their little dinner table when they turned to see Jeonghan.

"... Bad dream?" Joshua called out.

Jeonghan just bolted to his bedroom, shutting himself in as he processed what all just happened. You kissed him. You wanted to be more. You wanted to find him.

And, fuck, he was going to do anything to find you now.

Most people gave Jeonghan weird looks when he explained his relationship to them. Yes, he hadn't met you in real life yet. No, it didn't really do anything to the relationship--it limited your dates, sure, but you had fun manipulating the dreamscape together to go wherever you wanted to go. Amusement parks with no waits for the rides, or this little cafe in your hometown, or a lovely park at night that Jeonghan walked through alone and wished you were there with him in reality. There were plenty of downsides, sure--neither of you could taste the food that you were eating, or feel the wind on your face--but you made it work and resolved to live these out once you found your way to each other. Sometimes people tried to challenge him: how could he have a relationship entirely with someone in his dreams? Didn't he miss the physical contact?

Which... The answer was a resounded 'yes,' but also it was none of their business. The two of you made it work, end of story. He'd eventually had a friend circle that accepted his relationship with his soulmate, although he'd become insistent that (when Seungkwan met his soulmate) his experience didn't count. That the two of you had agreed that your 'day one' of your relationship would be the day that you met face to face, just to make it easier to pin down a date. Everyone else had a date they could use as an anniversary, and you... Well, you and Jeonghan were different.

Although things had changed years later. All he knew at first was that he went to sleep one night, and you were there.

"... Jeonghan?"

And he'd stared at you, your name slipping from his mouth as he rushed over to you. "Are you sick again?" He frowned. "Honey, I wish I could be there to--"

"No, I... I moved. Remember?"

Right. You... You told him that you were moving for a job opportunity. It'd saddened him a little in the moment because both of you knew it'd make meeting harder, and yet all of that seemed to fade away in an instant.

"So you're...?" He didn't want to speak it aloud. What if it weren't true? What if...?

You nodded slowly. "I think... I'm closer," you said. "I'm in--"

The next few words seemed to dissolve into nothing, like his brain refused to register them. Jeonghan took your face into his hands, tears wetting his cheeks as he shook his head. Why can't it just work? Why can't their connection just let them have this now? You were closer to him. That should mean that the two of you can freely talk, and yet all he could hear was muffled words that he couldn't make out at all.

"We can't," he said, "we'll just... We'll have to find a way without saying names."

It broke his heart every time he saw you cry, and this time was worse. You nodded, though, hands coming up to hold his. "We'll find a way," you said. "Saturdays. I'll... I'll wait for you somewhere." Another name became muffled when you spoke it aloud, and you loudly swore as you broke away from him. "Coffee," you said, turning to him. "I'll... I'll always go to the same place near--" Again, your voice cut out. "Fuck--Just start looking, and--and we'll figure it out if it doesn't work."

"You'll stay there?" He watched you carefully. "All day?"

An eager nod, motivated by how close the two of you were now. "All day. Every Saturday until I find you."

And so it began.

Jeonghan... truly underestimated how many coffee places existed in this fucking city. But he went out every Saturday morning and spent hours upon hours searching for you. For months, that search came up empty. Joshua had offered to help, but Jeonghan turned both he and Seungcheol (and everyone, for that matter) down. He needed to find you himself. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it was because he wanted to be the first one to meet you... He wasn't exactly sure anymore. A mix of both, perhaps. You could meet his friends in time, but Jeonghan didn't want anyone else to see you in person before he did. He'd known you this long. He'd been with you this long. He needed to be the first one to see you.

Three months ago, Chan met his soulmate. How much longer would it take for Jeonghan to find you? He approached the last place on his list for today, night having already fallen upon him. Maybe he'd change places with you, and have you running around looking for him. He'd try to pick somewhere more niche, though, just to make it easier on you. Jeonghan tucked his hands into his jacket pocket, staring down at his phone as he followed the directions to this place. It was a little out of the way, but maybe if he made it in time, he'd be able to swing by the bigger place not far from there. It closed earlier, sure, but it usually had way more foot traffic from what he could tell.

The thought that had been haunting him hit him again: would you even like him when you saw him in person? It'd been something stupid that popped into his head one Saturday a month ago, but it still shook him a little more than he expected. He'd seen you in so, so many dreams; he'd been with you, dating you, and yet it felt like there was a degree of separation. Those were his dreams with you, this was the real world where other people would get in the way. Where he couldn't just go to that cafe in your hometown with you, giggling about a silly joke one of you cracked, without having to travel to get there. He'd confessed his fears to Joshua once day, and Joshua had just stared at him.

"But you're in love with them."

"I know, but what if they don't love me once they see me?" Jeonghan had been curled up on Joshua's couch that night, a blanket draped around him. He toyed with the edge of it, fingers curling around the plush material. "It's different, I think."

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. You're so stupid."

"Hey--"

"Jeonghan." Joshua turned, entirely serious as he leaned in, "They love you, dumbass. I know your dreams are magical or whatever, but they still like being with you. You told me they trust you enough to cry on you and tell you about how bad work was, or about friend troubles, or enough to just say they need to cry because of stress. If things change when they see you, they weren't really in love with you. Dreams are whatever--you're still you."

Jeonghan had said nothing at first, letting the words sink in. Then when he looked up, he saw Joshua looking off into the distance, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "They're singing, aren't they?"

Joshua cracked a smile. Jeonghan knew him well enough. "It's quiet," he said, "but... Yeah. They are."

Jeonghan knew that while Joshua was the one who sang more often in his relationship, he truly loved whenever his soulmate would sing. He knew that Joshua had told them that, and they chose to indulge him in it a little more often. Jeonghan should take a video or a picture of this and send it to them: you broke your soulmate, btw, come get him. Then again... Joshua definitely had ammunition of his own. Videos of times where Jeonghan had woken up in a pleasant mood because he'd gone on a date with you yet again, always ending with Joshua telling the camera that he was ready for the two of you to meet already.

At the end of the street on the left. Jeonghan had begun to hurry at this point, already feeling his heart sinking in his chest. No. No, no, no, fuck--The lights were out, and no one was inside despite the website saying that this place stayed open for another two hours. There had been a piece of paper taped up on a window that said something about one of the coffee machines breaking down and causing a big enough mess that they'd have to close for the night. Shit. What if this had been the one? What if you were inside when the coffee machine broke, spraying hot coffee everywhere? What if you had been burned? Jeonghan wanted to kick himself for not getting here sooner, but he looked at the other shop that closed in less than ten minutes. Fuck. Next Saturday for sure. Maybe that would be the one.

He did what he always did. He called Joshua, and told him that, yet again, he had failed to find you.

"Aw. I'm sorry, dude," Joshua had said. "Are you sure you don't want us to help out?"

Before Jeonghan could respond, Seungcheol had spoken up, "We will! Just tell us where to go, and we'll find them. There's too many places for you to do it on your own. Stop being stubborn about this."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, glad that he had friends who cared so deeply about him. "No, it's fine. We'll find each other soon. I can feel it. We'll talk about it tonight and see if they can give me any details."

Of course, you hadn't before. Whatever was keeping the two of you from finding each other made sure of that. But they didn't need to know how many failed attempts Jeonghan had made at this point.

"Are you sure?" Seungcheol sighed. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to do this alone. We're all here for you. If you say the word to Seungkwan--"

Another warm chuckle. "He'll storm every shop himself," Jeonghan said. "That's why I haven't told anyone else yet. You know Mingyu would go out searching without telling any of us."

"You sound exhausted," Joshua spoke up after a moment. "Want one of us to pick you up?"

"I'll just take the bus. I think I'll plan my next move during the ride." Jeonghan tucked his other hand back into his pocket. He needed the time to lick his wounds and pick himself back up, too. "Maybe... I'll figure out a new plan."

"Just call me if you change your mind," Seungcheol said. "Get home safely."

"I will," Jeonghan said, and ended the call. He shoved his phone into his pocket, and let out a sigh.

Okay. Another failed Saturday. Jeonghan wouldn't lose hope, though: he'd find you soon enough. It wouldn't be as soon as he planned, but he would find you, and he would kiss you, and he'd never let anything tear the two of you apart like this ever again. Even with work trips and vacations and whatnot, Jeonghan would be happy to see your face again outside of his dreams.

The bus had slowed to a stop, and Jeonghan climbed on before taking a seat near the back. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by once the bus had lurched forward again. If the two of you could pick something less common, maybe you'd find one another sooner. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by as his eyelids began to droop. Next Saturday. He hugged himself tighter. Next Saturday would be the day. He had to find you then. Or maybe it was time to let his friends help him find you. What was the point of being stubborn about it all when he was taking away days he could be falling in love with you all over again?

"Hello...?"

He must have dozed off on the bus again, the sound of your voice making him open his eyes.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but when's your stop?"

You must have been teasing him again. "Wherever you want it to be," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they always do. It was always easy to say such things to you. He looked up, and pauses, mind fuzzy for a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were my..."

And then it's clear. There you stood in front of him, one hand gripping the seat next to him and the other on the one in front of it. Your eyes widened as realization hit you, and Jeonghan was already rising out of his seat. The bus driver yelled something back at the two of you, but Jeonghan wasn't listening. And it seemed like you weren't, either.

"Good morning, Hannie," you teased lightly, already smiling at him.

Jeonghan only leaned in, thrilled that you closed the distance between the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, nose brushing against yours as he tasted something sweet on your lips. Tea, he thought, or maybe some sort of dessert involving matcha or something. Your body was warm underneath his touch and so much more real than he'd ever dreamed of. But what about you? Did he live up to your dreams?

"I love you," he said softly when he drew back. Emotions surged in his chest: relief, joy, love. The freedom of no longer having to search for you crashed over him in waves, and he felt himself tear up. He roughly wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling as he tried to hold back now. This wasn't how he wanted either of you to remember your first meeting, with him about to sob.

Yet all it took was seeing you cry for him to break, pulling you into his arms as he held you tight. The bus driver yelled back again, and he just reached back frantically, pressing the button to signal for the two of you to get off as soon as you could. And he left with you, hand in hand, as the two of you stepped out underneath the stars, already falling in love with one another all over again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan fluff

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headkiss · 8 months

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hi!! i love your writing! could you possibly do a blurb with bf!steve with a sensitive reader? like maybe her friends made her feel left out or she gets embarrassed easily and steve is just there for her?

hiii tysm baby!!! hope u like it <333 | 0.7k of little angst to fluff! r feels left out after being with friends

It’s not often you feel this way.

You’d been at the diner for lunch with some friends, and it turned out to be kind of awful. You’d been the one to sit in the spare chair pulled up to the end of the booth, which was fine until it wasn’t.

First it was the split off conversations that you hadn’t been a part of, then the inside jokes, the laughs that surrounded you while you had to force one out to fit in. It only got worse.

Now, you’re parked in Steve’s driveway because you’d planned on spending the night, but you haven’t been able to get out of your car. Your overnight bag sits in the passenger seat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You feel like a total idiot, crying over something like this, but it’s gotten under your skin. Your forehead falls against your steering wheel and you flinch when your horn goes off.

It’s Steve’s cue to head outside.

He’d seen your car pull up, he always does. It’s pathetic the way he loves you. The way he waits for you to come over every time you leave.

Usually, you’d climb out of the car right away, carrying your bag on your shoulder and walking through the door because it’s only ever you and Steve at his house anyways. A grin on your face, a hug to greet him.

Today’s different. Today, he waits five, ten minutes and you’re still in your car. And then he hears the horn and he knows something’s wrong. He knows you, he’s been with you long enough to know when something’s off.

He jogs up to the driver’s side of your car, peers into the window and finds you, forehead pressed to the steering wheel, shoulders shaking a little. He taps on the window with a single knuckle.

Your head jerks up at the sound, and when you see Steve you wipe at your damp cheeks with your palms before rolling the window down.

“Hi, Steve. I was just heading in.”

“What’s wrong, honey?”

You should’ve known he’d ask. Always the worrier, never getting anything past him.

“It’s silly. I’m okay.”

“You’ve been crying. That’s not silly.” He pulls your door open, rolls your window up for you, and holds a hand out towards you. “Come on, talk to me.”

You sniffle, wipe your cheek on your shoulder, place your hand in his. Your fingers entwine with his easily, the way they always do, falling into place.

“Okay.” You let Steve tug you up, let him carry your bag for you.

Before you know it, he’s got you on his couch, sitting sideways so you’re facing each other, legs overlapping, Steve’s hand on your knee.

“What happened?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, and Steve’s not convinced, so you continue. “Lunch sucked. I’m dumb, but it was like I wasn’t even there, you know?”

His hand squeezes your leg, Steve-shaped indents in your skin. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s stupid. I just felt like it didn’t even matter that I was there.” Your eyes well up all over again. “I could’ve gotten up and left and nobody would say anything.”

“They’re the stupid ones for making you feel like this, okay?” The hand that isn’t on your leg wipes away the tear that slips down the slope of your cheek, thumb gentle over your skin. “You’re incredible, the best ever. Pretty, too.”

“Steeeve.”

“I’m serious. This is why you should just be with me all of the time.”

You know he’s joking, but Steve would be happy to spend every second of every day with you. That’s not a joke. But his words are enough to make you smile, a small one, but he still feels like he’s won something.

“Thank you, Steve.”

He shuffles so that he’s laying in your lap, head on your thigh, hair flopping over his forehead. You’re quick to run your fingers through it, grinning down at the way his eyes flutter at your touch.

“So, how many boyfriend points do I win?”

You giggle, “a thousand.”

“That many?” He grabs your wrist, tugging one of your hands from his hair and bringing it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your palm.

He gets endless points from you. Best boyfriend ever.

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dolcettamagica · 1 month

Text

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ch.6

rick x reader x prime

tags: masturbation, lewd language, rick being kind of possessive/obsessed, pet names (baby, slut, sweetheart, baby girl), flashbacks of pussyjob, imagining face-fucking + degrading sex notes: kisses go out to those ten rickfuckers who read my shit on here wc: 1.7k

Rick Sanchez sat amidst the chaotic clutter of his garage, surrounded by an array of bizarre gadgets, half-finished experiments, and stacks of crumpled blueprints. His eyes, concealed behind thick-lensed spectacles, stared into the void as if peering through the fabric of reality itself. In this moment, the genius scientist is lost in the labyrinth of his own mind, where the boundaries between brilliance and madness blur with each passing thought. The faint hum of a nearby portal generator served as the only reminder of the extraordinary adventures that await beyond the confines of his makeshift laboratory.

With each exhale, Rick's mind drifted further into the abyss of contemplation. He lost control over himself in his family’s presence all over some girl he tried to fuck. Rick didn’t understand why you held so much power over him. Why he felt so drawn to you, desperate to claim you. Yet, he wanted to fingerfuck your small cunt at the dining table even though his family was present. He told you to be quiet and not make a sound but when he saw your flushed face, teary eyes and trembling legs he pulled his head back and acted as if he was pranking you. Yes, Rick was a dirty motherfucker, he loved sex and loved having sex – with men, women, aliens, planets. Why did he want you that badly?

As the hours slip away unnoticed, Rick remained ensconced in his sanctuary of solitude, oblivious to the passage of time. The faint glow of fluorescent lights cast elongated shadows across the cluttered space, adding to the surreal ambiance of introspection. He turned in his chair, facing your bed. The bed where you were squirming under him yesterday. His cock rubbing between your slit. He remembered how wet you were, your sweet moans, the way “sir” fell from your lips. You were so wet, needy, desperate for his cock.

“Fuck–fucking hell…”, Rick lowered his head, his eyes meeting a growing bulge in his pants. Just the memory of playing with your slutty pussy drove him crazy. Hungry. He had to do something now or he would devour you the next time his cock goes hard. Sighing he pulled his cock out, which sprung up, rock solid hard. He spread his legs wider, imagining you between his legs – tongue out, big eyes staring into his – as he wrapped his hand around his tip and started to jerk off.

His calloused hand felt rough against his length. He asked himself how soft yours would feel, how you would suck his cock in general. Would you jerk him off while putting his balls inside your mouth? Would you just cutely wrap your lips around his tip and bob your head a little? Or do you like it rough and want him to cockslap your face before he fucks your face like you’re his personal fucktoy? Drool dripping down your chin while tears stream down your face?

His hand moved faster. Fuck, he wanted you. At least once. Rick jerked his hips up, starting to thrust into his hand, wishing it was your cute mouth instead. He was close – so close. Drunk on excitement and pure lust. Rick wanted to bend you, chain you, tame you and fuck you in different ways, he wanted to make you cry. Rick wanted to see tears trickle down that beautiful, beautifully crafted face of yours.

Rick hips moved against his tightly closed fist, enveloped in immense pleasure. What was playing in his head was beyond degenerate. There are no rules in one's fantasy after all. Sneaking into your room late at night, licking your pussy to wake you up before using his fingers to stretch you out. Flipping you over on your stomach, ramming his cock inside your soaking cunt and fingering your ass to prep your other hole to be stuffed with his cock. You would beg for him to go slower and tell him how much you love his big cock at the same time. He would pull your hair, wrap his belt around your throat and pull on that too, he wanted to destroy you, ruin you, make you his little slut.

Rick lifted his backside up off of the chair, hand jerking rigidly as he spilt out onto the floor. He gave his cock a squeeze, imagining that it was your walls squeezing around him.

“Oh shit,” Rick hitched, eyes squeezing closed as all the images of you raced through his head.

“Good night, guys”, he could hear your voice.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit”, Rick grabbed the next best thing on his desk – which happened to be a map of some sort – to cover his cum on the floor and stuffed his cock back into his pants before zipping them back up.

“…Can you please leave?”

You never quite understood why Rick had always found amusement in teasing and taunting you. His snide remarks and mocking gestures had become an unwelcome backdrop to your life. Your guard was up, your skepticism palpable as you prepared yourself for yet another round of ridicule. However, to your utter surprise…

“Nah, I want to make it up to you.”

Caught off guard by his unexpected sincerity, you felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling within you. You couldn't quite comprehend why Rick, the very person who had made your stay miserable, was now extending an olive branch.

“How?”, you found yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions ranging from disbelief to cautious optimism.

Ignoring your incredulous stare, Rick started a conversation with practiced ease, his confidence unwavering as he took a seat on the bed without invitation. Your irritation grew as you watched him, his presumptuousness grating on your nerves. His dominant posture seemed to dare you to challenge him, his smug expression daring you to defy him. Despite your growing frustration, you couldn't help but feel a begrudging fascination with his brazenness.

“Ever heard of interdimensional cable?”, he grinned and a beamer started since there was no tv in the garage.

As Rick continued to speak, your initial anger began to give way to a reluctant curiosity. There was something undeniably captivating about his commanding presence, a magnetic allure that you couldn't quite shake. Despite yourself, you found your attention drawn to him, his confident demeanor holding you captive.

“Interdimensional cable? Like tv?”, you slowly made your way over to Rick and sat down next to him, leaving a little bit of space between you two.

Rick's eyes were glued to your face. Those innocent eyes full of curiosity that looked up at him. How would your gaze change when he rammed his cock into your mouth? If you knew what he had done here just seconds before? What he was imagining while he fucked his hand. Would you be disgusted or would you surrender to him?

“Interdimensional cable, y/n, it's like regular cable, but with an infinite number of channels from an infinite number of dimensions. You see, every conceivable possibility, every bizarre scenario, every outrageous show you can imagine exists out there in the vast multiverse”, Rick began his rant, “It's a cosmic smorgasbord of entertainment, where the laws of physics take a backseat to pure, unadulterated creativity. Want to watch a sitcom where intelligent hamsters rule the world? Done. How about a cooking show hosted by a sentient toaster? Easy. Interdimensional cable offers a window into the infinite possibilities of existence, baby, and let me tell you, it's one wild ride you won't want to miss.”

A soft blush crept across your cheeks as you heard him call you baby but you didn’t interrupt him. It was kind of cute, his rambling about alien cable, how happy he was to explain it to you. He seemed nothing like the Rick who was rubbing his hard cock between your soaked lips.

“Hm, alright, I’m intrigued.”

“I promise you won't regret it.”

As you settle in side by side, Rick can't help but notice the subtle shift in your demeanor. Your initial skepticism gives way to genuine interest as you delve into the mind-bending array of shows and channels. With each bizarre program you watch, you find yourselves inching closer, your bodies unconsciously gravitating towards one another. In the dim glow of the beamer, Rick can feel the heat radiating off your skin, a palpable tension hanging in the air between you. As you share laughs and gasps at the absurdity unfolding before you, Rick can't shake the feeling of desire that courses through him.

Sheepishly he reaches out, his arm now resting on your back, his hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer. Silently you rest your head on his chest. Absolute Silence. Neither one of you dared to talk. You were simply enjoying those weird channels and each other's presence. Something in your mind suddenly switched.

“I know this channel…”, it was a mere whisper yet Rick’s eyes grew wide, “I watched this channel before?”

“What–?! Wait– Don’t fall asleep now!”

Before you knew it, exhaustion caught up to you, your eyelids growing heavy as you lean against Rick's chest. In the hazy warmth of the garage, you feel a sense of peace wash over you as you surrender to sleep. Even though you weren’t even a tiny bit sleepy before you realized that you knew the channel which was currently playing. You could hear Rick calling after you faintly.

As your eyelids flutter open, you find yourself engulfed in a sea of blinding white. Confusion clouded your mind as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. This pristine, sterile space seems to stretch endlessly in every direction, devoid of any discernible features. Panic begins to rise within your chest as you questioned whether you’re trapped within the confines of a dream. Every surface is a blank canvas, reflecting an ethereal glow that seems to emanate from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Your senses reel as you tentatively reached out, your fingertips grazing the smooth, featureless walls that enclosed you. With each passing moment, the disorienting realization sinks in that this is no ordinary dream.

“There you are, sweetheart.”

Warm hands grabbing your shoulders forced you to turn around and there he is, Rick, but not really Rick. He looked younger – way younger – more grayish skin than other version of Rick, as well as more dull-colored hair in a "nondescript" haircut.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m your Rick, baby, and we need to talk.”

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 #rick and morty #rnm #r&m #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x reader #rick x y/n #rick x reader #rick x you #rickfucker

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777bae · 1 year

Text

FIRST DAY ON THE JOB

PAIRING… F1 drivers x driver!reader | WC… 1.4k | Masterlist

Becoming a formula 1 driver had been your dream, ever since you first watched a race when you were about 3, the dream being the same as every one of your peers. However only a handful are able to achieve that dream, and so when you were first offered to sign for a team on the grid, how could you decline?

And so that leads you to now, sitting on a chair in front of a small group of reporters, eager to gain comments on the new ‘changes’ in formula 1.

“So Y/n, how have you been dealing with the expectations and pressure of being a formula 1 driver, along with the first female to race in over four decades?” A reporter asked, all the attention being directed towards you.

“Well, uh, I’ve known I was going to have this seat for a few months so, I guess, I kind of got used to the added pressure from moving up from formula 2.” You answer, playing with your fingers nervously as Lewis only sent you a nod of approval, calming you slightly.

“So you’re saying that you are not nervous?” The reporter questioned as you quickly shook your head.

“I’m not saying that, there is obviously still an element of nervousness, but growing up in the karting world, and previously being in formula 3 and 2, you get pretty used to it.” You reply.

“Lewis and Kimi, how does it feel to now be racing against a female driver?” Another reporter asked, the constant use of ‘female’ making you slightly uncomfortable.

“Y/n is just another driver who worked hard to get this position, a driver is just a driver in my eyes.” Lewis answered, earning a smile from you. “However it’s nice to see the continuing progress in motorsport.”

“I don’t feel different.” Kimi speaks, his monotone voice earning a light chuckle from you and Lewis.

“Is there any worry that there may be more crashes on the track with the new drivers?”

Silence enveloped the room as you just sat there. You knew that question was asked because of you, yes, there were 3 other new drivers, but in past seasons with multiple rookies, this question hadn’t been asked.

“Well, there is always a large concern of crashes when it comes to rookies and anyway, isn’t the rate of crashes higher for men than for women?” Lewis finally spoke, his answer earning him yet another smile from you as you all quickly moved on from the question, the awkwardness in the room feeling like it could swallow you whole.

You now stood in your driver room, a nervous wreck, trying to comprehend that everything was real and you were actually about to experience your first f1 race.

“Y/n? It’s time.” One of the engineers announced through the door as you quickly composed yourself before walking out, nervousness being hidden within your confident stride.

You already had prior experience with the track, your formula 3 and 2 career helping you on that front, as well as the small practice session you had before qualifying, and so that helped solidify some sense of confidence, however nothing compares to the actual race, especially when you’re against such talented drivers.

After greeting the few engineers that passed you, you quickly manoeuvred yourself into the seat of your car, placing the helmet onto your head before being brought out onto the main track.

Cheers could be heard from the stands as more cars began to line up. You had managed to land yourself in P10 after qualifying, to which you were quite pleased with yourself.

Soon enough the time was up and the lights began to flash red, the sound of engines revving surrounding you as you quickly followed, right up until the red lights disappeared, causing you to immediately stomp your foot on the accelerator.

You soon shot along the track, multiple drivers surrounding you as you progressed, both overtaking you and being overtaken by you.

This all lasted through the multiple laps of the circuit until your wheels finally crossed the finish line, earning you P5.

“Fantastic result Y/n, let’s keep this pace going next race as well.” Your engineer, Jack, spoke through the radio, you could hear the cheers of his coworkers in the background from your teammate’s P3.

“Thank you, very happy, I’m very happy.” You reply, a smile on your face as you pulled up into the pits, following behind the other drivers.

After finally arriving in the pit, you quickly pulled yourself out of the car, your smile being hidden right up until the moment you took off your helmet.

“Pretty good for your first race, you proved everyone wrong.” A sudden voice behind you caused you to jump, immediately turning around to realise who it was.

“You scared me.” You say, placing your hand to your heart with a large smile.

“Sorry, sorry.” Seb replies, your smile being reciprocated.

“Cheers though, I do try.” You finally answer his question in a sarcastic manner, causing him to laugh slightly before patting you on the back.

You were soon ushered away, going back to see the engineers, their welcoming arms surrounding you as you entered the pits.

“Well done!” Your team manager congratulated you before bringing you into a tight hug. Large smiles surrounded you as you felt more arms reach you, the many hugs you received causing you to grow even happier as the small celebration continued.

“So how was your first race, I mean P5 is a great start to your career.” The interviewer pointed out, her voice very enthusiastic.

“Yes, uh, I’m very pleased with the result I managed to achieve today, as well as my teammate’s P3 so, happy first day in the office, I guess.” You chuckle.

“And how have you been dealing with the pressure of becoming a formula 1 driver?” She continued, the question causing you to have to think a bit.

“Uh, well, I guess, I’ve just been doing what I normally do, you know, I just try to do stuff that, uhm, calms me down before a race and helps build my confidence. I also think it helps that I still have school as well so if I’m disappointed in performance or result I still, uh, have something to distract myself with” You answer, struggling to come up with the right words and it basically just ends up in you waffling.

“How are you going to uh-” The interviewer begins before breaking into a fit of laughter whilst looking behind you. You quickly turn around, only to see Daniel pulling faces at the camera.

“Oi, stop it!” You exclaim, slapping him on the arm before he falls onto the floor, pretending to be severely injured.

You turn to the camera, a disappointed look on your face, before rubbing your elbow and dropping down, trying to mimic moves from wwe fighting.

Daniel lets out a scream as everyone turns to look at you two, laughter immediately being heard as they saw what was going on. Quickly pulling yourself back up, you stood in front of the mic again, ready to continue the interview.

“Sorry about that, anyways what were you saying?” You ask, a large smile on your face.

“Uh well, I was asking about how you were going to prepare for your next race.”

“Great question, uh, I’ll probably just do what I usually do, you know, just workout a bit and try to improve my energy and stuff like that.” You answer before thanking the interviewer and moving on to the next, one of their questions being what had just happened.

“First day on the job, so I assume I’m making a good first impression.” You joke, the interviewer laughing before continuing to ask questions about the race.

After finally finishing off the long list of interviews, you headed back to your driver room, your assistant long gone as she had to finish up some other things, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

“Y/n!” Someone shouts, you immediately turn around to see Lando running up to you.

“Hi Lan.” You greet.

“Good work out there.” He pats you on the back gently as he speaks. The two of you had known each other since you were young, along with the other rookies as you had been racing against each other for pretty much the majority of your career.

“Cheers, big step up from f2 yeah?” You tease as he finished behind you in the race, knocking him on the arm a bit.

“Watch your back next time.” Lando jokes, earning a chuckle from you as you both continue walking through the pit, your laughter being the only thing heard.

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Loki x fem reader where the reader is a super kind empath Avenger and comforts Loki, who also has been recruited as an Avenger (very reluctantly) but is still a bit ostracized from everyone else on the team. The reader is able to see how poorly Loki was treated in the past and promises to be there for him. They both end up falling in love but are too afraid to tell each other (the reader is able to feel this weird warm and fuzzy emotion Loki directs at her and she can’t pin point what emotion it is). They end up confessing when Loki sees an avenger member take advantage of the readers sweetness so he steps into comfort her. He confesses and they kiss 😚

Also have an amazing day and take your time with requests!!!

hope you have an amazing day too!

masterlist

If you squint ever so slightly, peer out from the reach of your favorite chair just enough to see into the surrounding hallway, you can almost make out the silhouette of Tony Stark pacing back and forth outside his office door.

As resident empath of the Avengers team, you’re in charge of reconnaissance, general battle backup, and checking in on everyone to make sure they’re still intact. You’ve also gone ahead and assumed that to mean that you can use your abilities to read the hearts of your teammates. Hey, it’s what they hired you to do, right? It’s not like you’re scanning their minds, now that would be invasive. All you’re doing is sensing how they’re feeling. Anyone could do that with a bit of good knowledge on body language.

You shift slightly, and there– you can just make out a cloud of colors circling Tony’s figure. That’s how emotions have always appeared to you ever since you were a kid. When people are having a perfectly normal day and not too much has happened, you’ll only be able to pick up on a tendril or two of colored smoke around their frame, a few hints at happy or sad but nothing too special.

Conversely, when something crazy is going on, it’s like they’re walking out of a bank of mist, Mr. Darcy at the end of Pride and Prejudice (2005)-style. For instance, at this very moment you can’t even tell what shade of shirt Tony is wearing through the dense emotion rattling around him.

This is obviously a sign that something is going on. Usually, Tony’s pretty laid back, or at least he pretends to be. Cool blue is his trademark. Sometimes, closer to missions or just after them, you’ll see bright lime or sickly yellow lancing through them, panic and stress from too much pressure on his shoulders. You can sense his anxiety attacks before they start. Tony has no idea how many times you’ve used your gifts to divert those things, and if you have it your way, he’ll never figure it out.

Tony’s not panicking right now, though, or not in the way that you’re used to. Instead of purple or blue, all you can see around him is red, blazing red. Tony’s not usually a red kind of guy. Red means anger, outrage, and by the looks of him now, something has happened to cook up a regular bonfire of irritation.

As you watch, though, more colors join the fray. You can spot uneasy yellows and greens, an undercurrent of fear. What could possibly be going on to make Tony so unhappy? The situation is complicated, to be sure, but that’s nothing new around the Avengers. Take it from a S.H.I.E.L.D.- registered empath: no one ever feels just one thing at one time. There’s always a dozen different emotions swirling in between your heart and head. And right now, Tony’s got quite a few to chew on.

Unable to contain your curiosity, you get up from your seat and pad over to him. Tony almost flinches when he turns and sees you, but he rubs a tired hand over one eye and greets you like normal.

You arch a brow at this attempt at pretending everything is fine. After all this time, Tony should know that you’re not one to get fooled by a pretty lie like that. “What’s going on? You’re totally freaking out.”

“So glad to see you, Y/N,” Tony complains, “I look great? Thanks for telling me. You’re always so quick with the compliments.”

You give him a look. “I know how you’re feeling. What’s up with you?”

“It’s not me you should be questioning,” he sighs, “it’s the newcomer to our team.”

You frown. “I didn’t think we were getting someone new.”

“We weren’t supposed to, but Fury added another guy last minute. Apparently it was either that or have him rot down in a cell for all eternity, and we don’t want to risk pissing off his brother,” Tony clarifies.

“Who’s his brother?” You ask, curious.

“Thor,” Tony says, and then you understand at last.

“Loki is joining the team?” You can’t believe it. Loki attacked New York all of six months ago. Sure, Fury has always been one to maximize opportunity, but you can’t believe he’d let Loki into the ranks of the Avengers so quickly.

“That’s what I said,” Tony harrumphed, “but apparently it’s already done. He’ll be coming up later today to meet us all. You know, without trying to kill us this time.”

You chuckle under your breath. “I can’t wait to see how that goes. How long do you think we have until Steve breaks out a patriotic speech on our or his behalf?”

Tony snorts. “It’ll happen any minute now. Look, here Steve comes up the stairs now. It’s like he marches everywhere he goes. Unreal.”

True to Tony’s suspicions, Steve, upon learning of Loki’s arrival, does indeed treat all of you to a talk about looking past first impressions. If the red flickering around his eyes and fists says anything, though, it’s that he’s just as pleased about the whole affair as Tony.

You, for one, aren’t sure what to make of the whole thing. Something must have happened to make Fury trust Loki, and until you learn otherwise, that’s as good an endorsement as you’ll get around here. Before long, Thor is marching into the Avengers complex with a stranger in tow, and all of a sudden, you have eyes on your new teammate.

It’s strange, your first impression of Loki. Second, technically, but you’re not counting the Battle of New York. That was different, you were trying to kill each other. Now you’re supposed to count on him to save your life.

Tony shoots a quick glance your way, cocking one brow as if to ask, getting anything? The honest answer is no, not yet. Asgardians are always hard to read, you figured that out when you first met Thor. Everything about them is different, even down to how they feel certain emotions. Loki is no exception. At first, you think he feels nothing at all. Then, you realize he’s just very good at hiding it. His back is perfectly straight, spine stiff and unfeeling.

That is, until you look a little deeper and you start to see the threads of colors playing around his clothes, his hands, his blank stare. They’re green in color, green and gold like the stitching on his apparel. They’re not happy emotions, these, they’re–

They’re fear. Loki is afraid. Not that anyone here will kill him, not that sort of fear. He is certain that all of you will reject him, that this great god will have to watch humans laugh at him and just deal with it anyway.

You can understand feeling like that. When you were first recruited to the Avengers, you almost thought it was a joke. Surely an empath wouldn’t be useful in the heat of the battle. They had to convince you of that later, once you could start changing people’s emotions instead of just reading them. Still, you know what it’s like to doubt yourself, even when you’re sure that you are worth more than anyone can imagine.

So, you step forward first, and greet him with a smile. “I’m Y/N,” you say, “it’s good to see you.”

Loki arches a brow, and you don’t have to read minds to know that he’s thinking is it? as strongly as he can. This confusion only grows when you hold out a hand to him. For a moment, you think he’s going to reject you, but your smile stays insistent. He doesn’t have to like you at all, but goddamnit, you’re going to like him. He can deal with that on his own terms.

He must be able to pick up on this sort of stubbornness, and for some reason this is what wins him over at last. Loki extends his hand to shake yours, and just like that, the ice is broken. It’s as if a collectively held breath is released across the room.

That isn’t to say that the rest of the Avengers take to him so readily, nor that Loki is as willing to accept them as you. He tends to stick to himself, avoiding crowds unless he can’t avoid it. He begrudgingly tells you it’s because being around that many people either reminds him of Asgard or the battle or both.

He tells you a lot, actually. It doesn’t all happen at first. He may have shaken your hand, but he seems dead set on despising you. However, you’d made up your mind to win him over at that point, and you weren’t going to rest until you met your goal. It took a lot of slow, deliberate effort, but before long the conversations weren’t so one-sided and you swore he actually smiled when you entered the room.

Also, he stopped hiding his emotions as much. The first time you saw a hesitant wave of goldenrod brush across his shoulders, you thought you were hallucinating. It was there the next time you saw him, though, and the next, and the next, deepening to sunset orange and staying there. Happiness. He liked being near you.

Once trust was built, real friendship could follow suit. Turns out Loki was just as reluctant to join the Avengers as your lot was to welcome him in, but when Director Fury makes a decision, pretty much everyone has to follow suit. Thor had warned him against causing more trouble, so Loki was here to stay. He used to think that was a bad thing, but judging by the way his tone has softened as of late, he might not be so sure of that anymore.

Loki starts to tell you more, once he stops thinking of you as an outsider. He tells you about Thanos, about how he had twisted Loki’s mind so that he could only attack the city. You had suspected something was wrong with Loki during the Battle of New York– his eyes glowed a strange color, the emotions flickering around his chest were almost alien, so unusual even for a god– but hearing it is the confirmation you needed to be sure. Loki had not attacked you in his own mind. He had not tried to kill you, that was someone else forcing his hand.

That last part was especially crucial. The night he finally told you about Thanos’ control, Loki had not been able to leave until he was certain that you understood that it had not been him leading the attack on the Avengers and your home. At last, you convince him that it is alright, and only then can he rest easy.

The rest of the Avengers aren’t able to share in this peace, however. They don’t want to give Loki a chance, which, seeing as they’re not able to actually see his emotions, you can sort of understand, but at this point it’s growing tiresome. It’s been months now since Loki joined the team, and he has not lied to or betrayed or attempted to murder anyone. You want to yell at them to grow up, but you don’t feel like picking someone else’s fights.

Instead, you’d rather spend your time pondering another puzzle. Loki’s moods have shifted again towards you, but this time you cannot understand them at all. Something’s changed about the way he looks at you, how he speaks, and you have no clue what any of it means.

When you have trouble, though, there’s only one surefire solution: you need to talk to Natasha Romanoff. Nat’s been your best friend since you joined the Avengers, actually. She gets you. You get her. It’s a good time all around.

So, Natasha doesn’t look too surprised when you all but throw yourself into one of the chairs in her favorite space in the complex one sunny morning. The only question on her mind isn’t to ask what’s up with you but what Loki’s done now.

You grimace. “I don’t know, that’s the worst part. He’s acting weirdly.”

“Isn’t that normal for Loki?” Nat questions. “I mean, he is a disgruntled younger brother/frost giant/Norse god. I feel like weird for him is kind of expected.”

“No,” you argue, “This is different. Something’s changed.”

Natasha furrows her brow. “And you haven’t been able to pick up on anything?”

“Well,” you hesitate, “maybe there’s something. I have no idea what it is, though. It’s happy, I think, but it’s sad at times, too, and flickery, like even he can’t explain it. I don’t know how to describe it in the slightest.”

She nods decisively. “It’s love.”

You blink in surprise. “What? No, I just said I had no idea what this is. There’s no way you would be able to guess it so quickly.”

Nat shrugs. “Actually, your vague description was exactly why I know what this is. Only love makes no sense like that. Love makes you happy, but it breaks your heart, right? It confuses the hell out of you because that’s what it’s supposed to do. There’s nothing else that could make anyone feel like a mess of emotion but love.”

You sigh. “That still leaves the fact that it’s Loki, though. You actually think he’s in love with me? I’m a human. I mean, inhuman, technically, but same difference to him. Why would a literal Asgardian god ever look at me like that?”

Natasha’s gaze is knowing, but you can’t quite meet her eyes. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t. You won him over faster than anyone was expecting. I think the biggest question isn’t what he’s feeling, but what you are.”

You brush her concern aside. “Well, of course I know how I feel. I’ve had this much time figuring out how other people’s emotions work, it’s like a user manual for what certain things feel like in your own head. I just can’t believe that he truly feels the same. Maybe he’s trying to trick me by pretending to feel a certain way, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Nat scoffs. “I thought you were the president of the ‘Stop Loki Hate’ fan club. What’s gotten you doubting him again?”

You shoot her a look. “I’m not doubting him, just myself. Also, there’s no such fan club. Fury banned us from attending Avengers-based clubs, remember?”

She nods mournfully. “All it took was one bad experience. Look, all of us showing up to the ‘Personally Victimized by Nick Fury’ meeting was funny. He was just being a bad sport.”

You smile fondly. “I remember. I’ve never seen that much red in my life. He was totally outraged.”

“Oh, I know. You didn’t need empathy powers to tell that much. At least we abstained from putting on the fake eye patches.” Nat muses.

You bite back a laugh. “Yeah, that might have been overkill. Anyway, back to the point. Are we sure about this?”

“We’re sure,” Natasha assures you, “I’m sure you’ll get in your own head about it later, though.”

“You can count on it,” you grin, and say your goodbyes.

Natasha is right as usual, as it turns out. Both about your feelings and the fact that you would second guess yourself. You were going to say something to Loki, but you talked yourself out of it later that night. It just feels wrong, that’s all. There’s no way a literal prince of the gods would fall in love when you’re just, well, you.

You do your best to push it out of your head, Nat’s knowing glances be damned. Life is too busy to contemplate men who won’t speak their minds. It feels like a new crisis hits New York every week. Speaking of which, you’ve actually got complaints about that. Namely, the fact that you haven’t been on a mission in quite some time despite your status as an Avenger.

You get frustrated once a couple of months have gone by without you seeing a fight. You pull Steve aside when you hear about something going wrong again. “I saw Fury’s memo about needing an extraction team for a situation over in Spain. Can I sign up?”

Steve shakes his head. “Thanks for the offer, Y/N, but we’ve already got enough guys on that team.”

You frown at him. “You can never have too many guys on an extraction team. It’s, like, Avengers lore that stuff always goes wrong on those. I can at least tag along as backup just in case. I’ll grab my gear and be off in like five minutes.”

Steve doesn’t seem willing to back down, though. “Look, I’m glad you’re passionate about the team, but we’re good, honestly. If you’re getting bored, just join the next mission, I’m sure one will come up sooner than later.”

You sigh. “That’s what everyone said last mission, and the one before that, too. I haven’t been out of the complex on official business in three months. I’m an Avenger, Steve, let me act like one.”

Steve puts his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Y/N, I meant what I said about being glad you want to help, but this is serious. I’m a supersoldier, that’s why I’m out there all the time. Nat’s been trained for this sort of stuff since she was a kid. It makes sense to send us, right? You know we value your gifts, but we can’t risk hurting you.”

Your stomach twists. “You mean, I’m really best when I’m looking at people’s heads, not actually in a fight.”

Steve doesn’t seem to realize he’s upset you, and he nods emphatically. “Exactly! You’ve got a great skill set, just not for right now. I bet we’ll find something soon, though.”

You flash him a thumbs up, already walking back down the hallway so he can’t see the way your face twists. “Can’t wait.”

You let your composure drop the second you’re around the corner. Is this really how they feel? You were useful in the Battle of New York, you know that, and the other agents say you’ve been improving with your abilities by leaps and bounds. You’re handy with a gun or knife, too, so you know you could survive a fight and be of use. You’ve done it before, why are they so keen on stopping you now?

It makes you feel, well, useless. It’s hard to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly change course to head for your private quarters. You don’t want anyone to see you like this.

Of all the fantastic timing, though, the one person you want to run into least of all right now steps into the hallway just as you think that. Loki nods at you as usual, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head dismissively, trying to physically will yourself to look normal. “Nothing! I’m great. Everything’s good.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, though, and reaches out a careful hand towards you. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like everything is good.”

You let out a watery laugh, and that does it. “No, actually, things are terrible. Everyone on the team sees me as a joke.”

Loki frowns, clearly taken aback. “Well, that’s not true at all. I don’t see you as a joke in the slightest.”

“Everyone else, then,” you amend with a messy wave of your hand, “I’ve been trying to convince them to let me on a mission for months and they won’t do it. I know my gifts are damn near useless, but I just want to help.”

“That’s not true,” Loki repeats, “They’re a lot of good, actually, and you know that. You’re the best interrogator they have, even compared to Romanoff. You see through everyone’s lies in a heartbeat, even mine, and I’ve had plenty more time to practice them than most. You can sense a trap or ambush in half a second. They’re fools for not wanting you out there with them.”

You smile weakly at him. “You don’t have to say all of that. Thanks, though.”

“Of course I do,” Loki says blankly, “it’s true, and I need to.”

“Why?” You ask curiously.

Loki swallows hard, looks away, and then you see it again– that faint mist of pink, right over his heart. It’s just like Nat said, isn’t it? Just like that.

He forces his gaze back to you, and you’re shocked by the certainty in his eyes after all this time of ducking around your feelings. ��It’s true because I love you, and I would not be able to stand it if you let the rest of them talk you into thinking otherwise. They’re toy soldiers, the lot of them, all the same. They couldn’t see real worth if it was standing right in front of them.”

You smile, and for once it’s not cracked or teary or anything, it’s real, as real as the pink ribbons tying the two of you together. “I love you too,” you say.

“Of course you do,” he replies, but he’s smiling too, and you think– no, you know– that everything is going to be alright.

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archiveikemen · 29 days

Text

Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 1

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

[ Ellis POV ]

— What is happiness?

The moment I burned that image into my eyes, it changed like the colours of the sky at twilight.

Even though it left a deep impression in my heart that would stay forever, I can never get the exact same feeling ever again.

Time, stop.

So that this happiness will never fade.

…

[Kate POV]

(Starting from today, I’ll be under the surveillance of “Crown”, a group of assassins who conquer evil with evil.)

(My job as a “fairytale keeper” is to document their sins— this is my only lifeline.)

I tidied myself up in front of the mirror and gave myself another encouraging pep talk.

(It honestly scares me to think I’ll have to watch them “sin” again, but…)

(So far, I’ve had my fair share of harsh situations; from handling customer complaints at the post office, to making deliveries at extremely chaotic scenes of carnage.)

(Everything will be fine. I get through this, one way or another.)

Kate: Only for one month. You can do this, Kate. You’ve got this. … Alright.

Saying words of encouragement to myself as though I were chanting a scripture, I opened my room door and took an enthusiastic step into the hallway—

…

???: Whoa.

Kate: Kyaa!?

The tip of my nose bumped into the chest of someone who was standing in front of my room.

Kate: I-I’m so sorry…!

Ellis: I’m sorry too. … Are you hurt?

(Ah… this man is—)

– Flashback Start –

Last night, I found out about the Queen’s secret group of assassins “Crown”.

Harrison: … Now that she’s known way too much, what do you intend to do with her, Victor?

Victor: Hmm. Let me think…

Ellis: Do we kill her?

(Wha—?)

Ellis: She doesn't look happy at all, but I’ll do it if it’s for work.

– Flashback End –

(He was the first person to suggest killing me.)

(But, after that…)

– Flashback Start –

Ellis: I’m Ellis.

Kate: Nice to meet you… Ellis.

Ellis: Mm… nice to meet you too. I often go out of town with Jude to attend to some business, but I’ll make you as happy as possible while I’m here.

– Flashback End –

(Why is Ellis standing in front of my bedroom…?)

(Oh, right. My surveillance has started.)

A single wrong move could cost me my life.

Memories of the amount of fear I felt the night before flashed into my mind, causing me to straighten my back sharply.

(I can’t keep my usual attitude.)

(This is a whole different world I’ve stepped into.)

Kate: Ellis, right? I look forward to working with you from today on.

Ellis: Yeah, I’m Ellis Twilight. A pleasure to meet you too… also, there’s no need for you to be so tense.

Ellis gave a small chuckle and peered into my face with a concerned expression.

Ellis: … Your nose is red.

Ellis: Sorry for that. The door flew open right when I was about to knock, so I couldn’t dodge in time.

He leaned against the door with a long, slender arm.

Hidden behind his curly hair was a pair of eyes the colour of twilight — just like his name.

Surprised by the sudden lack of distance between us, I gasped and hastily apologised.

Kate: It's not your fault! It’s mine for getting too motivated and jumping out of my room…

Ellis: Motivated? What for?

Kate: Ehh!? Uhh…

(“I was giving myself a motivational boost because I was afraid of living together with the people here.”)

(I can’t say that to his face…)

Kate: It’s kind of like being transferred to a department I know nothing about… um…

Kate: HURRAH! Something like this…!

Ellis: Hurrah…

Ellis blinked in surprise.

(That sounded too unnatural…)

Ellis: … You’re so cute.

Kate: Uhh… it’s fine, you didn't have to cover for me…

(I should be relieved he could find an excuse for me, but it’s still embarrassing…)

As my gaze wandered around my surroundings, searching for somewhere for me to go, Ellis’ face turned serious again and he whispered to me,

Ellis: I want to assign you your very first task in this “new department”... may I?

…

Kate: — Wow…

(What a beautiful garden.)

Ellis led me outside to the castle’s courtyard…

Before me was a large English garden that looked very carefully maintained.

The seasonal flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with a heavenly smell.

(Last night, this castle towering over me appeared solemn and dangerous, and yet…)

(It also has such a peaceful place in it.)

I followed behind Ellis along the path while admiring the beautiful garden, until we arrived at a gazebo.

Tea and scones were arranged on a table, it seemed like there was a tea party about to begin.

Ellis: Here.

Kate: Uh… t-thank you.

I was puzzled when Ellis pulled out a chair for me, but I took a seat as invited and he went to sit opposite me.

(He mentioned something about giving me a task just now…)

Kate: Is this where my first task will be?

Ellis: Yup. … Your first task is to have breakfast together with me.

(... Huh?)

Ellis: Tell me about yourself while we enjoy the delicious food. I’ll tell you about myself too.

Ellis: If you write them down, it’ll count as a “Fairytale Keeper” report. Right?

Kate: I’d appreciate that, but… wouldn't that be too much of a bother to you?

Ellis: I don’t think so. Why do you ask?

He seemed to genuinely want to help me.

Ellis: I’ll tell you about the other members of Crown too.

Ellis: I know it must be terrifying to live with people who are complete strangers.

Kate: …!

(Could it be that my “first task”...)

Kate: Did you invite me here to soothe my nerves?

Ellis: … You’re partially right.

Kate: “Partially”?

Ellis: The other reason is that I want to chat with you. … So that’s where you’re partially wrong.

His lips lifted into a faint smile.

(Was the impression I formed of Ellis last night all a misunderstanding?)

Last night, I felt uneasy — like something was staring at me from the darkness, giving me the chills.

(I’m not getting that feeling from Ellis in front of me right now.)

(Perhaps last night’s uneasiness was only because I just witnessed a murder scene…)

I pushed those thoughts aside, deciding not to bother with them.

— Thinking back to it later on, I realised that was a mistake.

(Anyway, Ellis made the effort to make all these arrangements for me.)

(I should accept his offer and hear him out.)

Kate: Thank you, Ellis.

Ellis: I didn’t do anything to deserve your thanks.

Ellis: Do you like sweets? Victor baked these scones this morning.

Kate: Oh? Victor can cook…?

Ellis: Yup, it’s a hobby. Al is a good cook too.

Ellis: Al taught me to make clotted cream previously, so I made this myself.

Ellis: I bought this jam because Liam recommended it to me.

Ellis: As a stage actor, Liam always knows what’s popular.

Ellis: This meat pie is from the restaurant Roger took me to for lunch a while back. He treats me to meals often.

Kate: Whoa, slow down a little. I want to write all of that down…!

I took my little notebook out of my pocket and started jotting down the things Ellis told me about the members or Crown.

Kate: Oh, I know about that apricot crumble place too! It’s always busy with lots of customers.

Ellis: I bought it together with Harry. He may not look like it, but Harry has a sweet tooth and has an eye for good dessert places.

Kate: Fufu… the members of Crown seem very close.

(Even though they made me feel as though we were people from two very different worlds…)

(At the end of the day, they’re just human beings living in the same London as I am… and that feels somewhat reassuring to know.)

(This is all thanks to Ellis.)

Ellis: Kate.

Kate: Yes…?

With natural movements, Ellis reached his large palm towards my face—

Ellis: … You got cream in your hair.

Kate: Huh? Oh…

(I really did get cream in my hair. I didn't notice.)

Ellis gently tucked my hair behind my ear.

Kate: Thank you.

Ellis: You’re welcome. … Is the food so delicious that you got too absorbed in enjoying them?

Ellis rested his chin in his hand and gazed at me with a smile.

Kate: … Yes, it’s delicious.

Ellis: Glad to hear that.

(Being able to pull off this sort of thing so effortlessly… Ellis must be very popular with ladies.)

I suddenly became conscious of my heart beating faster and tried to calm my racing heart.

Kate: You put in a lot of effort into setting up this breakfast, and you’ve also been very concerned about my wellbeing so far…

Kate: Why are you being this kind towards me?

(I don’t remember doing anything worth receiving such kindness from Ellis for…)

Ellis: It’s because you’ve been looking unhappy since last night.

Ellis: I only want the people around me to be as happy as they can be.

(That’s all…?)

(But I’m merely a stranger to Ellis…)

Kate: Do you treat everyone the same way? Even complete strangers?

Ellis: Huh…? Hmm… I don’t think so.

He seemed bewildered by my simple question.

(Ellis is indeed a rather strange person.)

(But…)

Kate: … This makes me happy.

(I definitely feel much more at ease now, thanks to Ellis.)

Ellis: I see… I'm glad you don't find it unpleasant.

— My feelings of wariness melted away by the end of our pleasant breakfast together.

Ellis: Are you a fan of theatre?

Kate: Yes. Actually, I volunteered to do an extra shift last night to earn some extra cash for tickets to a play…

Ellis: Fufu… you’re quite a passionate fan.

My conversation with Ellis went smoothly, like we’ve been close friends for a long time.

Just then, I heard another set of footsteps.

Victor: Hi! It’s looking lively out here!

Ellis: Victor.

Kate: …! Good morning.

Victor: Ah, no need to stand for me! I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation.

Victor: Ellis offered to help prepare breakfast this morning… did it make you feel better?

Victor gazed at me searchingly with a smile.

The air of mystery I sensed around him last night vanished, leaving only the feeling of warmth from his eyes resembling gemstones.

(My “first task” from Ellis must’ve really helped soothe my nerves.)

Kate: Yes. It’s all thanks to Ellis and the delicious scones you baked.

Victor: …

Victor looked slightly surprised when I thanked him with a smile, but his expression quickly switched into a bright smile.

Victor: Your relaxed smile is basically saying “I’m so happy to be Crown’s exclusive fairytale keeper”!

Ellis: … She never said that.

Kate: … Fufu.

My shoulders shook a little as I giggled at their exchange. Victor’s eyes narrowed.

Victor: Now, there are two things I ask of you, our fairytale keeper. One is to keep our secret, and the other is to record our sins.

Victor: The first task is very straightforward and I see no problem with it; but I don't wish for you to be confused by the second task, so I’d like to guide you a little.

Victor: May I give you a brief explanation of the task?

Kate: Yes, please.

Victor: It’s not a difficult job, actually. All you have to do is to observe the members and record what you think is a sin.

Victor: I leave it up to you to decide how you’d like to do it.

Victor: You can rotate amongst them and observe multiple members, or you can focus on just one member and accompany him in his activities.

(Observe the members of Crown, and the method is entirely up to me… I see.)

Kate: Understood. … Um, may I also know to what extent I’m being watched?

Victor: Even though we say we’re keeping you under surveillance, we don't wish to restrict your freedom. Except going outside alone, you’re free to do as you wish.

Victor: You may be asked to follow us on missions sometimes, but your free time is yours to spend freely.

I nodded, relieved to know that I wasn’t being watched as strictly as I had expected.

Kate: Understood. Thank you for the clarification.

Victor: … To be honest, I was surprised to see you smile just now. I never expected to see your smile so soon.

Victor: We’re an organisation that commits terrible deeds and we had you witness a horrifying scene last night, so I thought you wouldn't exactly feel “at ease”.

Victor gave me a cheeky wink.

He then squinted his eyes like he was looking at the sun.

Victor: I hope that the darkness you’ll be subjected to against your will from now on, will never steal your smile.

Strangely, because of the tone of his words, I couldn't dismiss them as a lie.

(There’s no denying that the members of Crown are scary people who kill without hesitation and dwell in the shadows.)

However— at the bottom of my heart, I had a feeling that I’d understand them better if I just looked closely enough.

Victor: Well then, I shall take my leave. Being the Queen’s Aide is quite busy.

It seemed that Victor was only there to check on me, and so he left the garden without joining us at the table.

(I have to closely observe the members of Crown if I want to record their sins, right?)

If that’s the case— I think my best option would be to start with getting to know Ellis.

That thought came to me almost naturally.

Kate: Um, Ellis… what are your plans for today?

However, I was interrupted by someone’s voice.

Jude: What are you doing, slacking off when you have work to do? I’ll punch you.

Ellis • Kate: !

The deep voice startled me, making me jump.

(This voice—)

I timidly turned around to see Jude standing there with his arms crossed and looking clearly ticked off.

(H-He’s furious…!)

Ellis: Sorry, I’ll go right away.

Ellis shot Jude a casual glance and responded without even leaving his seat.

(He’s so relaxed about it…)

Jude clicked his tongue and strode out of the garden with a flip of his jacket.

Ellis: … There you have it. My plans for today.

(Jude is the president of the trading company Ellis works at as his assistant… right.)

(I intended to observe Ellis today, but I guess I’d be better off postponing that plan.)

Kate: Thank you for taking time off your work for me. Good luck at work.

Ellis: ...

Ellis stared at me in silence, pondering about something—

Kate: Uhh?

Ellis: If it's okay with you, do you want to come along?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #ellis main story #ellis twilight #aikm translation

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castieltrash1 · 9 months

Note

just wooing sebastian wilder accidentally by being urself and he’s not afraid to make it clear that he wants u!! agh!!

sebastian wilder x gn!reader; fluff, meet-cute, awkward flirting, seb being a heart-eyed pookie for u

Sebastian hits the last set of notes with such force the deafening silence of the restaurant finally clicks, and he can feel the gaped mouths and wide eyes surrounding him even with his gaze locked firmly on the ivory keys. The hushed whispers follow a second later and he gathers the strength to lift his head, a dark blond curl sweeping across his damp forehead as he does. Where he expects to see Bill’s looming figure, he finds your warm presence instead, your expression a stark contrast to those in the rest of the room.

Noticing he’s halted his set, you scurry closer, excitement visible on your face. He's not sure what you’re admiring, so Sebastian peers over his shoulder, only finding confrontation awaiting him. Bill stands by the kitchen entrance, arms crossed and face flush with anger; holding back the public outburst he’s clearly teetering on the edge of.

“Um, excuse me,” you squeak out, and Sebastian turns back to you, raising a confused brow. “I don’t want to interrupt, really, but you just…” You shake your head, and at the sound of muffled giggles, he spots a crowded table behind you, the patrons rolling their eyes. Immediately, your features scrunch in embarrassment and you reach back, swatting your hand quietly at what must be your friends or family teasing you for boldly approaching the pianist on such a busy night. “Sorry, just, you’re really amazing.”

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, feeling a light flush bloom on his cheeks. “Thank you. Thanks.” He nods and watches as you shove a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into his fish bowl tip jar.

“I’d totally give you more but I just moved here and I’m pretty broke.” You laugh nervously, but all Sebastian can think is how truly appreciative you seem, even without the money. Most people carelessly toss their change at him after he plays a couple of boring songs from the setlist, but you enjoyed his music, the kind he actually liked playing. “Do you perform anywhere else?”

“Herman’s Habit, actually,” he starts, breaking into a soft smile. “When they let me, I mean. It’s pretty competitive there with all the different jazz bands.”

“That sounds amazing,” you reply, moving closer until he can see all the details on your face in the dim mood lighting. He could look at you for hours, he thinks, and for once in a long time he feels genuinely nervous, wringing his hands together to keep them from twitching. “Where is it at? I’d love to go. Live music is just so…” You make a face, searching for the right word but failing to find it. “I don’t know.” You sigh and he knows exactly how you feel. “But I don’t have to tell you that,” you continue, reading his mind.

“It’s great.” Sebastian can already imagine it, you dancing, watching him in his element. “I’ll take you,” he offers, so quickly it feels like the words are coming from someone else. “Tomorrow night, you and me. What do you say?” The look of surprise on your face is hard to miss and he worries he’s being too forward. “Or we can meet there. Anywhere, actually. But we should really go to Herman’s.”

When you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, he’s struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you. “Like… on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, so confidently he almost believes it himself. “You’ll love it, I promise.” At least, he hopes you will. After months of living in a slump, it’s as if the universe has dropped his soulmate right in front of him, and he wants to know you so badly it makes his skin tingle.

Another beat passes. “Alright,” you agree, unable to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Give me the address.” You quickly pull your phone out, typing in exactly what he tells you and having him double-check it for good measure. “I really didn’t expect this when I came over here,” you admit, hoping you don’t sound too flustered. “I just wanted to compliment you, I swear.”

“Me either,” Sebastian jokes, and when you laugh, it sounds just like jazz. “How’s eight?”

gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)

#la la land #sebastian wilder #sebastian wilder x reader #la la land fluff #sebastian wilder fluff #ryan gosling #la la land fanfic #sebastian wilder fanfic #t: writing #answered #anonymous

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yanderambling · 1 year

Text

concept: Psychic Honor Student!Yandere(gn) x Transfer Student!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, suggestive themes, stalking, stealing, mind-reading, severe invasions of privacy

Desta has been at the top of all their classes for as long as they can remember.

They’ve always been a loner, strange and intelligent and self-righteous as they are; it’s not exactly a mystery why they’re consistently ostracized by peers. Anyone who gave them a chance wouldn’t last a week before getting fed up with their off-kilter remarks and haughty demeanor.

They didn’t make it easy on themself, they know that, but they don’t mind anymore. In fact, they've come to appreciate their isolation; their peers just get duller and duller as the years go by, they couldn't imagine wasting their time on any such dimwits. Besides, their solitude makes it easier for them to focus on their studies, both in school and… other regards.

See, Desta’s mind was gifted with more than just intellect.

They first started hearing other people’s thoughts in preschool (it made learning the alphabet a living hell). Nobody believed them when they tried to get help, parents and teachers alike brushed it off as oversensitivity, so they were forced to manage it by themself.

And they did, expertly if they say so themself. As they have with everything else in their life.

By the time they could put it into words others could understand, there was really no need- getting others involved would’ve just made it more complicated, especially when they started gaining new abilities (most recently, they’ve begun manipulating objects with their mind; they can only imagine how much stricter their parents would become with that knowledge).

They still aren’t sure what the extent of their abilities is, or if it has anything to do with their academic performance, but they are certain that it’s a journey best taken solo.

At least, they were certain. Until they met you.

You’re… different. That much is apparent when they first look into your mind, initially an idle action borne from boredom and a vague curiosity about the midyear transfer.

What first struck them was your surprising sense of calm. Most new students’ minds are just oceans of anxiety, panic over the new school layout and the novel social hierarchies, but yours was just… still.

You were contemplating the architecture (predictably outdated, in keeping with the neighborhood, the bathrooms probably malfunction a lot), the student who was showing you around (boring haircut, kind voice, moves with vaguely irritating certainty), each thought so natural and straightforward- it was like a breath of fresh air after having their head stuck in the trash bag of this school’s social stratum.

You had no concern for the petty posturing and hierarchies, your mind was so active yet so clear, you were so confident in your every movement, every thought.

You’re the first person they can remember ever piquing their interest. It was an exciting feeling, frightening and new.

They needed more of it.

They began to find peace in listening to your thoughts. It’s a nice break from the unending cacophony, simply hearing you running through your daily tasks, making grocery lists, giving mental commentary on the world around you (they've nearly exposed themself by laughing at your silent quips on multiple occasions), even the verses of songs you only remember one part of looped over and over. They start to admire the way you view the world and the people in it, each peek into your mind only leaves them more fascinated.

You quickly become their favorite pastime.

They start relying on your little comments and musings to get them through the school days. You just have such a unique perspective, you’re so much purer than the minds they’re constantly surrounded by, you’re so real and genuine- you’re just not like the others. And they would know.

They soon become obsessed with being in your head.

They start to follow you around so they’re always close enough to hear you, memorizing your schedule as you’d mentally revise it each morning. Sometimes you swear you can feel eyes boring into your back, but the instinct alone lets them hide before you can even turn your head. They follow you further and further each day, until they've memorized at least three different routes to your house.

It's still not enough.

They sneak out to your place most nights, watching through your window as you unwind from your day (your mind is especially calm at these moments, they feel like they could float away on the gentle stream of your thoughts). When they get bold enough, they crack open your window after you fall asleep and look for a souvenir (something small, of course. something you won't miss, light enough for them to levitate, like a pencil or an article of clothing).

It still not enough.

It's not uncommon for them to tune in to the thoughts of those around you, friends or classmates or neighbors, just to get more of you. They get viscerally jealous when anyone so much as thinks a positive thought about you- nobody could possibly appreciate your beauty like Desta, their minds are all clouded by lust and material priority- but god help anyone who thinks badly of you (and god forbid they catch you thinking of somebody else; not for your sake, but for the poor bastard you've taken a liking to. they wouldn't have been good enough for you, anyway).

These days, they're in your head more often than their own. It's still not enough.

They start to do things to get you to notice them; start answering more questions in your shared classes, wearing bolder outfits and constantly checking to see if you notice.

They learn the things you like. They only wear your favorite colors, they exclusively listen to your favorite music, read your favorite books, watch your favorite movies- if they notice you have a preference for a certain hair color, they’re dyeing theirs that night. They know way too much about all of your hobbies and interests, just in case they ever work up the nerve to have a conversation with you. They haven't yet.

You’ve had a couple run-ins- brushed against them in the hallway, passed them a handout in class- and each one left them flushed and shaking, overwhelmed by your mere proximity.

It's all too much, but not nearly enough.

They know they can't approach you, they’ll make a fool of themself- even knowing what everyone is thinking isn’t enough for them to navigate most social situations, let alone with the added stress of simply being in your presence.

No, they’re not ready for your direct attention, not yet.

For now, they'll just have to satisfy themself with your thoughts (and your underwear).

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #sub yandere #soft yandere #gn yandere #gn reader #psychic yandere #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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alchemie-tarot · 1 year

Text

Cold Moon Pick-A-Card: What is Coming To A Close In Your Life?

Here’s to the last full moon of 2022. She invites us to look back on everything that transpired this year, especially the events that had us face our shadows. Transformation can often take place in darkness. Know that it gets brighter from here. ✨🌕✨

Feel free to choose the pile/s that call out to you. Some details may not resonate with you since this is a general reading. As always, nothing is set in stone, so please don’t take it too seriously.

Extra: The Justice card was at the back of the deck before I started shuffling. When I was still warming up, shuffling without intention, Justice dropped from the deck. She is a general theme for the piles of this reading. She has our backs.

Extra (2): Featuring my photographic attempts to capture Miss Mama Moon.

Pile 1

Cards: King of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles

Right away I see that this is about your work, or something you’re putting a lot of effort into. You’ve established yourself in this place, but lately it feels rigid, like there’s hardly any room to breathe. “No freedom” came to me quite strongly. This could be a lucrative pursuit you have lost your passion for. For others, it could also be something you pursued for the sake of financial stability and security, but now you feel that it’s time to move on to something you genuinely like and flourish in.

There seem to be voices in your head pulling you in different directions, arguing with each other. For most, though, I feel that it’s more so from your surroundings that are affecting you than your thoughts. Has someone been disrupting your space lately? They seem to be driven by self-interest. Your environment could be tense and filled with clashing egos, or some of your peers are threatened by your power. Either way, they just mess up your vibe.

Take a deep breath, Pile 1. I see that whether you decide to stay or to choose another path, you’re in for a breath of fresh air. This crowd will close its chapter in your life, and new connections will come in. They will be nothing like your previous or current peers. Collaboration is valued at a spiritual level. They will see you as someone to invest in, and you will mirror this view towards them.

They could be older or more experienced in the field that you choose. In fact, you’re likely to find a mentor in them. They will bring you to places you haven’t been, I feel. It’s really up to you where.

This is the speediest and most straightforward interpretation I’ve ever done for a pile so far. I feel like you will realize quickly when these people come around, or they will approach you right away.

===

Pile 2

Cards: 9 of Swords, King of Pentacles, The Fool

Are you having a hard time getting some good sleep lately? Something seems to be keeping you awake or has been giving you unpleasant dreams. I could sense an almost tangible anxiety around this trauma. I believe it’s related to money or something material that’s important to your security.

Some of you may have been carrying a responsibility like this on your shoulders quite early on in your life, and it has taken its toll on you. For a few, I feel the energy of someone stern who may hold some power over you in your career or, again, in relation to money. It’s like they’ve been blocking you from getting any kind of breather.

Putting my arm around you, Pile 2. These things are not easy to navigate at all. I hope I can ease your worries somehow, since this reading is about things in your life that are coming to an end.

The big break you’ve been waiting for is not so far from your horizon. It will feel like the brightest of new beginnings. Seriously, you’re moving from the bleak darkness of worry that never seemed to end, and into broad daylight where you can see the land across you for miles. Your burdens would be made light and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, you’ll be able to throw your cares in the air and think about yourself.

I feel the need to add: when I shuffled for this pile, the first card deliberately slipped out of the deck without falling. It took me a few seconds to decide if I was going to get it. The same happened with the rest of the cards. I felt unsure even in the order I was going to lay them on. This new beginning may unfold slowly and you may find yourself going from hopeful to fearful, back and forth, worrying if things are on the right track.

Please take it easy on yourself and know that it’s normal to have moments of doubt especially after you’ve been through a heavy situation. Every little glimmer of hope contributes to the new foundation you’re making. You will get there.

When you do, you will feel like a child. What felt like years of torment will gradually return to you in the form of healing. Instead of a mountain to climb, your next step will feel like the start of an adventure.

===

Pile 3

Cards: 2 of Cups, 3 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords

Okay, I feel like you have already got a lot of abundance in your hands. I see that you’re quite gratified within a relationship or a kind of partnership that’s close to your heart. You’re busy with projects you enjoy working on, with people who admire and trust your abilities in your team. You’re surrounded by energies who lift you up and encourage you to be productive.

Not gonna lie, this is not the kind of scenario I expected to see in a reading about something coming to a close in your life. These three cards came all together and I had a distinct sense to order them this way. I was dumbfounded at first glance. At the same time, I don’t feel like it necessarily means that your auspicious situation will come to an end. Fortunately, the third card explains what’s on its way to you.

The Knight of Swords is all about independence. There is an opportunity for you to experience going solo. It’s more of putting some distance between you and your tribe in order to be in your own space for a while, rather than cutting ties with them.

A swift change seems to be on the way that needs you to be quick on your feet. An emphasis for you to make your own decisions. Maybe you’ve been relying a bit too much on your circle? Yes, they make you feel safe, but there’s a sense of being oblivious to the consequences of certain actions when you’re only taking account of the blissful feelings.

Again, I don’t necessarily think that what brings you joy is about to be stripped from you. This may just be a way to test your tenacity and dedication about something. It involves a lot of your inner strength. You may come face to face with your priorities. Regardless, only you can say what is meant for you deep down. Hold on to that.

===

Pile 4

Cards: 6 of Wands, 6 of Pentacles, 10 of Wands Rx, 10 of Cups

An extra card jumped out. What are the odds that a pair of Sixes and then a pair of Tens came out? That’s pretty cool.

Being generous comes naturally to you. You share what you can to people in need and these people really look up to you. This admiration makes you feel good about yourself and you take pride in being able to help others. It’s like a part of your identity now and because of that, you may think you have peaked at this position. There’s a feeling of wanting to give and give on behalf of everybody. Because of the little attention you genuinely turn to yourself, you may be on the brink of burnout without knowing it. You could even be denying it.

You’re not solely a giver, Pile 4. There is no need for you to prove this about yourself over and over. We already know it. You need to refocus because I feel like you’re having a problem disengaging from this role. If you persist in this mindset, it will end up doing more harm than good. It’s safe for you to express how you truly feel. It’s okay to acknowledge that you need support, too.

All the noble deeds you have done will return to you tenfold. True, stable, and long-term harmony in all fields awaits you. You care so much for others, but now you need to be open to receive. The people you have lent a hand to would happily return the favour. Letting this go will help your innate abundance spread more evenly to everyone– and yes, that includes you, too. You deserve it most of all.

===

Thank you for taking the time to interact with this reading. Feel free to share and let me know how you found it, if it resonated or not, etc. Don’t be shy to send me feedback or details about it, if you’d like. I would really appreciate it!

Take care always! ✨🌕✨

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firstelevens · 2 months

Note

No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?”

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms.

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

#sambucky #ok admittedly i lied emma did in fact cheerlead the writing of this and encourage me the whole way but what's new #this is truly just like. the opening half a chapter of this au but I have THOUGHTS #to be clear the rest of it is never getting written unless a miracle occurs #but here have this nonsense on the occasion of bonky's birthday #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 1 year

Text

Meeting and Dating Patrick Verona

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(One of the titans has finally been completed. Amen.)

- When you first heard about the rumors that surrounded Patrick Verona, you’d genuinely thought that they were jokes. Lit a state trooper on fire, sold his own liver to buy a new set of speakers: were your classmates like actually serious?

- It was funny the first few times the gossip came up in conversation but after a while, it just started to get a little sad. You were in high school and your peers were still just as gullible as the kids who got scared by the drip, drip story or the tale of the clown statue.

- Admittedly, the delinquent occasionally intimidated you as well, but you were scared of him the same way you’d be scared of any other person at your school; particularly someone as openly hostile as he was. He wasn’t an arson enthusiast or a criminal in your eyes, he was just a guy who’d maybe humiliate you or purposefully inconvenience you if you happened to get on his nerves one day.

- And yet, regardless of this fear, you still couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him and developing an interest. You considered him completely out of your league and entirely unattainable: someone who would never even think to look your way and who probably already had a beautiful girlfriend who was way cooler than you in every conceivable way possible.

- It’s the reason why you placated yourself with silent devotion instead of actually acting upon your feelings: why you opted for secret glances and daydreams that nobody else would ever find out about or catch on to; unless they were monitoring you 24/7 and/or had a probe in your silly little lovestruck brain.

- Yet someone did catch onto it, the exact same person your affections were pointed towards....

- A lot of people look at Patrick; a lot of people stare and a lot of people look away quickly when he manages to catch them. He’s generally pretty used to it. What he isn’t used to is a pretty girl acting all timid and embarrassed when she accidentally meets his eyes: not disgusted by or scared of him but actually kind of shy.

- It takes him a little while to realize it; to notice the difference between your gaze and everyone else’s, but when he does finally manage to put a finger on it, he finds it sort of amusing. You like him. Cute....

- It’s not cute for you though, not when he confronts you at you locker and asks you why you’re always staring at him, a fake smile plastered across his face; grin looking more like bared teeth than an actual sign of genuine kindness. It’s not cute when he begins putting words into your mouth as you struggle to explain, watching you closely as you nervously deny his ideas; up until he mentions how “maybe you just have a crush on him”.

- It’s completely humiliating staring at the floor as you anticipate his response, waiting for his laughter or something equally cruel to come after the realization inevitably dawns on him. Yet all he does is let out an interested hum before he turns and walks away, leaving you standing at your locker, wondering if you’ll even be able to face him the next day in class.

- Fortunately for you; or perhaps unfortunately, you’ve officially sparked his interest, and now that he knows you have a thing for him, he’s determined to get to know you and see how deep this infatuation of yours goes; along with whether or not you’re actually worth his time.

- He doesn’t ask you out just yet but he does start to hang around you a bit, testing you every now and again, pushing your buttons in order to get a grasp of your personality. In the beginning, he tries to intimidate you: corners you a little, gives you blank stares, takes your things and refuses to give them back until he decides he’s gotten what he’s looking for.

- That’s how the shift in his personality begins: he snatches your pencil case off your desk just as the bell rings and subsequently forces you to follow him, letting you tail him awkwardly down the hallway as he tosses it up and down in the air. You expect his usual tough guy attitude but when he finally whirls around to face you, he gives you a slightly curious look and “asks” if you’re afraid of him.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“Not really.” You sigh in response, slightly nervous to find out what he’s trying to get at.

“Most people are.” He comments, his hands ceasing their throwing and catching as he walks closer to you.

“Most people think you ate an entire duck.” You respond.

“Maybe I did,” He says before he begins to grin. “Though I do prefer eating other things.”

“Pencils?” You ask, glancing down at your pencil case that he’s still holding onto.

- When you look back up at his face, you’re somewhat surprised to see that there’s a genuine smile pulling at his lips. He hands you the pencil case and you take it, glancing at him one last time before walking away.

- Like I said before: shift in behavior. Suddenly, everybody's favorite juvenile delinquent is acting like the two of you are best friends, sitting with you like it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to do and conversing/flirting with you whenever he can. He even starts following you around after school, somehow constantly running into you and almost always teasingly insisting that he goes there all the time.

- After a while, you just start to get used to it: expect him to be there and sit with you and flirt between every other breath of his. You start to flirt back too, loosening up as you realize he isn’t out to get you and bantering with him whenever he tries to go around and tease you.

- The two of you just start to click: your true personalities shining through and molding together far better than either of you could have ever anticipated. He surprises you with how different from your expectations he winds up being and yet, he’s everything you could have wished for and more. He feels the same way about you.

- So it’s no surprise when he tells you that he’ll take you to that one event you’ve been gushing about whenever you see flyers for it on your daily hangouts or pass the part of town it’s being held in. And in the middle of it, when he looks at you and your excited face like you hung the moon and the stars, its no surprise when he grabs you by the face and kisses you, gentle and loving and sweet.

- And it’s no surprise when you find yourselves unable to stop for the rest of the night, clinging to and kissing each other like two lovestruck dorks. You’re certain you’ll be that way for the rest of your lives....

- One of the best parts of dating Patrick is seeing him go from an intimidating badass to a clingy lovestruck fool who worships the ground you walk on. He might of let his more sensitive side show before the two of you started dating but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of affection and devotion that pours out of him the minute he decides that he loves you. Suddenly he’s doting on you like his life depends on it: holding and touching you as much as he can and adoring every inch of you. Not to mention his infatuation with receiving the same level of affection from you.

- That being said: he still likes to portray himself as an intimidating badass so the pda in your relationship is definitely a little varied. He almost always likes having some form of contact with you but it changes depending on your company: cycling through handholding, arms around your shoulders, tight grips on your thighs, and full on makeout sessions. When you first start hanging out, people wont be able to tell if you’re close friends, dating, just plain hooking up, being held hostage, or hiring him as your bodyguard.

- He particularly likes kissing your neck but he tends to just kiss everywhere he can reach. Wrists, hands, shoulders, face, head, neck: everywhere.

- Slow, soft, loving, and deep kisses: that’s a lot of adjectives but his kisses deserve and warrant them. The two of you get lost in them and he tends not to care who sees; hopefully you aren’t terribly embarrassed by your peers catching him tonguing you on the school benches since most of your kisses evolve into makeout sessions.

- He smacked that security guards ass, you're telling me he wouldn't pat yours on occasion as well?

- That being said, on a sweeter note, he also has a habit of brushing your hair behind your ear. You both keep extra hair ties on your wrists for each other; regardless of how common it is for either of you to use them or not.

- He typically chooses to be the big spoon when the two of you cuddle but more often than not, you just wind up in a tangle of limbs and hair. He’s a pretty big fan of cuddling so you’re found in bed together pretty often; usually with him using you as a teddy bear or doing other things....

- He likes being called “pretty boy” and I refuse to believe otherwise.

- Speaking of terms of endearment: he tends to call you girlie and “my girl”, as well as princess, angel and a menagerie of other pet names. Sometimes he uses them just to make you roll your eyes but he doesn’t necessarily use them sarcastically: he just makes his affectionate outbursts look like jokes.

- He likes to praise himself for you but he also just loves when you say nice things about him in general; though he takes your insults as compliments too so anything you say to him is generally appreciated regardless of it’s contents. Love language isn’t really the right way to describe it; since he partakes in pretty much every single type, but for lack of a better word, praise is a big part of his love language and it being used totally unprompted is perfectly normal for him.

“How did I get such an amazing girlfriend?”

- That being said: gift giving is also a pretty big part of his love language; even if he doesn’t always have the money to buy you an $800 dollar guitar. He proves that much to you when you first get together and he gets you a necklace with his initial on it; or something of the sort. He was a little shy about giving it to you since you were still getting used to each other but he was fully prepared to carve your name into his chest so he was kind of just hoping you loved him as much as he loved you.

- But money isn’t everything, especially when you frequent thrift stores! I’m not entirely sure if Patrick would have gone to them on his own but he’d definitely develop a fondness for them after being introduced to them by you.

- Your smile is his favorite sight to see and your laughter is like music to his ears: seeing you happy makes him happy; even when he wants to be annoyed with you. It’s part of the reason why he sort of just goes along with whatever you want to do and acts like a bit of a pushover. When he really likes a girl, his reputation and machismo goes out the window: he’s willing to look a little lame if it really means something to you; even if he puts up a bit of a fight in the beginning.

- He’ll pull out some random grand and extravagant gesture just to make you forgive him after a fight or cheer you up after a rough day, and he’ll deem any consequence that arises from it as worth it. If you asked him for a rock, he'd give you the moon and you’ll be well aware of that from the start of your relationship.

- Speaking of his unyielding devotion: it isn’t uncommon for him to act like your knight in shining armor whenever an unfortunate situation occurs. Got stuck babysitting? Guess he’s babysitting too. Car broke down? He’s driving four hours at midnight just to come and pick you up. Left your important assignment at home? He’ll cut class just to get it for you.

- Him cutting class is an unfortunate habit of his and more often than not, you’ll also be involved in it in one way or another: whether he’s cutting just to come and sit with you in your class, in order to walk you to your next one, or forcing you to actually cut with him.

- Patrick getting in trouble isn’t going to go away anytime soon but he does tone it down a bit for your sake. You can’t spend a whole lot of time with him when he’s in and out of detention and all it took for him to prioritize that over being a little shit was you canceling your plans, hanging out with someone else, or telling him sadly that you really wanted to see him. The thought of it became like 80% of his impulse control whether he wants to admit it or not.

- He genuinely gets frustrated when you don’t get to spend a lot of time with each other. He can spend days with you at a time and not get tired of it so when you have to keep cancelling plans or have your dates hijacked by friends of yours, you’ll find that he gets huffy over the fact that he can’t be alone with you. He’s not afraid to admit that he only came somewhere because he wanted to be with you or that he’s upset over the fact that you forgot you were supposed to go out with him and you find it kind of adorable.

- It’s probably part of the reason why he’s willing to drive cross country with you in order to go see some special event that’s taking place a couple states away; or whatever other day/road trips you’d be willing to go on. It’s like micro dosing on being married to you and having you all to himself and he secretly loves it to death.

- Random fun little dates. Going to the amusement park, the circus, bowling, laser tag, paint ball, paddle boats, etc. He loves just letting loose and having fun and though they might be slightly juvenile, you guys can put the juvenile in juvenile delinquent.

- Friendly competitions.

- Play wrestling. He doesn’t just let you win so I hope you’re somewhat dedicated to beating him; even if it is a losing fight. You might think you’re getting the upper hand on occasion but he almost always perseveres and wins; mainly because he was only momentarily letting you think you were getting the best of him. That being said: your dedication is probably due in part to the fact that wrestling with you gives him a bit of a hard-

- Beach dates. The place reminds him of home; his childhood home at least.

- Movie dates. He doesn’t even mind if you want raisinets! But he does somewhat force you to hold his hand the entire time, even if it’s a little impractical whenever you want to get some popcorn, so I guess that’s how you pay him back for it.

- Going to his favorite bars and clubs with him. If it isn’t your style than he isn’t going to force you into doing something that’s arguably not in your best interests, but he may try to “broaden your horizons” and he’s certainly always over the moon and all smiles when you decide to surprise him with your presence.

- Dancing along to music with each other.

- Going record/CD shopping. He has a surprising affinity for oldies and every now and again, he’ll play them on the radio or on vinyl and you’ll tease him about being an old soul while he gathers you into his arms. It probably started during the time he spent with his grandfather if we’re being realistic.

- Doing random couples crafts. I don’t even know why, I think it’s the tank top and the tied up hair combo we saw on him: it just makes me think of you guys like tie dying shirts in your backyard or doing pottery together, etc.

- He definitely gives you his shop(?) class projects and at a certain point, begins to tailor them towards your own personal tastes. He’ll sit down beside you and act like he’s semi-disgusted by his work while he inspects it with you, nonchalantly offering you it while ignoring how it perfectly matches your room décor and acting like he’d just throw it away if you didn’t want it.

- He definitely offers you sexual favors in exchange for you doing his school assignments or things of the sort. He also probably “taxes you” when he does favors for you: almost always asking for kisses; even though he’ll joke about “settling for them”.

- He definitely makes jokes about your sex life to random people while you sit at his side with your face in your hands; he gets amused by their flustered reactions. It’s usually things like wiggling his eyebrows and telling your friends that you “were with him all night” when they ask where you were or turning to you and asking if you “think he has the skills of a pornstar” when someone asks about the rumors that get spread around school about him. He makes a lot of sexual remarks and innuendos in general so it’s just sort of something you’ll have to get used to.

- Teasing and playfully bickering with each other.

- Stealing each others fries and shooting the paper off your straws at each other when you go to fast food joints.

- He has a slight oral fixation: almost always being caught with something in his mouth. Toothpicks, cigarettes, pens, you, gum, etc.

- He doesn't listen or adhere to any of that “astronomy bullshit” but he suddenly acts like he’s a true supporter and believer the minute it mentions true love or points to the two of you being soulmates or something of the sort.

- He has a shrine to you in his room; that’s the only way I can describe it. Photos of you, all of the gifts you’ve given him; no matter how small, that he cherishes, etc: it’s all there and on full display. It’s truly adorable.

- Patrick genuinely enjoys taking care of you: like not only does he consider it his job as your boyfriend but he genuinely loves the feeling of being needed. Catching you when you fall, urging you not to do something stupid, giving you little massages, fetching things for you, etc. He’s not easily deterred or grossed out and he’s also particularly hot when he’s playing babysitter/nurse so you don’t usually mind it.

- It might take him a little while to open up but he does enjoy telling you about himself and all of his secrets. He also likes to hear everything about you as well: what you’re thinking, your favorite childhood stories, your family life, your day to day drama, etc. He’s surprisingly good at lending you an ear and giving you advice/comforting words. You often find yourself having long and deep conversations.

- He’s honestly more invested in your life than you are. He’s very passionate about gossiping with you and finding out about all the drama in your friend groups and family. He acts like anyone who’s wronged you personally wronged him.

- Speaking of: he’s the kind of boyfriend who you send to talk to your friends/little siblings when they’re having a rough time and need to hear advice from someone who doesn’t particularly sugar coat things/care about hurting them. He’s very good at consoling your loved ones without fucking them: like, you never have to worry about his comforting pats on the back turning into groping.

- He also just talks to your friends in order to be better and do nice things for you. He’s an honorary member of girls night because he’s so chill and able to blend in without acting like a creep or like your boyfriend™.

- Speaking of friends: he has that one punk friend and I think if your parents or friends are really conservative, they’d be horrified to see that you’re both dating Patrick and subsequently friends with a kid that looks like every parents worst nightmare. He’s chill though: and he’s good at passing on messages or comforting you when you’re arguing with Patrick.

- Patrick finds it really hot when you get jealous over him. He likes the feeling of you being possessive over him and wanting everybody to know that you’re an item: probably because he wants to; and already has, announced over the loudspeaker that you’re his.

- Speaking of: Patrick is a pretty jealous person but not necessarily in the way that you’d probably expect. He doesn’t mind that people find you hot and trusts that you aren’t gonna cheat on him, but he still can’t help but dislike when people show obvious interest in you or encroach upon his time with you. Most of his jealousy arises from you showing favoritism to somebody else; even if it’s purely platonic. He knows that you’re just friends but playing second fiddle to somebody else just plain irks him.

- Considering his reputation, it’s pretty rare for anybody to mess with you. You get to turn off your brain for a while whenever you go out with him and just focus on enjoying yourself. That being said: he can turn from wild bad boy to protective father in an instant if he feels a situation calls for it.

- The two of you don’t argue a ton; at least not seriously. You’re more likely to bicker like an old married couple than you are to have a genuine fight. Although, when you do fight, he tends to remain as calm as he can or leave for a while so he can sort himself out; occasionally making a biting comment or trying to kiss you which only winds up making things considerably worse.

- Patrick is a man who begs and grovels and bothers you into working things out with him whenever you’re mad at him. He hates the silent treatment and borders between miserably keeping his distance and doing everything in his power to get you to talk to him; even telling people you’re sitting with to scram because you keep insisting you’re busy with them instead of speaking with him.

- If you’re the one in the wrong, he might also give you the silent treatment; or hold a bit of a grudge, but he’s typically pretty quick to forgive you; mainly because he misses you and wants to be together again. He definitely makes you laugh and promise between kisses that you’ve both forgiven each other and that something “like this” is never gonna happen again.

- The two of you joke around a lot when it comes to saying “I love you” but he does genuinely enjoy saying it and hearing you say it back to him. He’s kind of obsessed with it actually, and he sometimes smiles at you and says it so sincerely for no good reason at all that it genuinely makes you feel like crying; in the nicest way possible.

- Good luck getting rid of him because he’s genuinely kind of obsessed with you. He’s never really had such an honest and real connection with someone before and he’s kind of convinced that he’ll never have another one again so he’ll fight to the death to keep you by his side. So yeah, expect a ring on that finger in the future and a near perfect Aussie husband.

#patrick verona imagine #patrick verona headcanons #patrick verona imagines #patrick verona headcanon #10 things i hate about you #10 things i hate about you imagines #10 things i hate about you imagine #10 things i hate about you headcanon #10 things i hate about you headcanons #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanon

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wheeboo · 1 year

Text

05:17pm | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which you and your cousin joshua go on a trip together. PAIRING. cousin!joshua x gn!reader (ft. mentions of seungcheol x reader) GENRE. fluff, platonic/familial relationship WARNINGS. details in the drabble alluding to emergency contact WORD COUNT. 763

requested from anon: Hello emergency contact anon here! I just want to say thank you so much for accepting my request & doing them! I love the series so much and it brings me comfort whenever I read it 😊 (especially the final). Although I’m sad that we won’t know how Joshua got them together… And I also hope you don’t mind if I can please request platonic older cousin Joshua x reader? Whether as a side story of emergency contact or as a different story, that’s if you’re alright with writing platonic that is 🥺 Thank you again so much!

notes: i hope you’re fine with a brief drabble emergency contact anon (pls i love calling u that its so cute and if u want to be referred as something else lmk!) honestly was trying to think of a side plot and then i saw these gum wall photos on his insta and was like LMAO also cousin!joshua is a vibe he’d be so fun to hang out with

“Wait, wait, Y/N! Can you take some pictures of me in front of the gum wall?” Joshua shoves his phone in your hands, making you groan in annoyance as you switch to the camera and turn around to take some photos of him.

You are met with an explosive array of colours and flavours of the gum wall as Joshua steps ridiculously close to it, posing in front as if the intense smell of old and dry bubblegum wasn’t surrounding the two of you and all the other tourists around. Okay, but who thought that planting bubblegum on the wall was a grand idea? It’s a strangely appealing popular attraction, but... why?

You couldn’t help but cringe playfully at some of the poses he was taking, but you obliged anyway knowing how much capturing memories meant to him and how much he thrived on posting photos online to his Instagram. You end up spamming probably around twenty photos in his camera roll, and perhaps a total of nearly a thousand throughout the entirety of the trip.

Once Joshua steps down from the wall, he walks up to you and eagerly grabs his phone back, flipping through the multitude of photos you took of him from all kinds of angles.

“Wow, you got great shots,” Joshua gives you a few thankful pats on the back as the two of you quickly scatter out of the alleyway and back onto the bustling city sidewalks. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You scoff teasingly. “Pfft, what am I? Your personal photographer? You better be giving me credits when we get back home.”

Joshua gasps dramatically, raising a hand up as if surrendering. “It’s quite rude of you to think that I won’t be crediting you. I’ll even tag every single one of your socials, including your private accounts.”

You playfully shove him away, shaking your head dismissively. “Ah, I take it back. Don’t give me credits, please.”

Joshua just gives you a mischevious, amused look. “Too late. Come on, I know a good café around here.”

He leads you into a nearby café down a couple blocks away. As you enter together, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries fills the air, and you already begin to feel the excitement of the day begin to subside into the café’s cozy and relaxing atmosphere. This was definitely your preferred place and crowd to exist in.

You find a table in the corner as Joshua heads to order for the two of you, peering around to the other tables to find everyone seemingly in their own little world. After a few moments, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you swiftly reach in to take it out.

The name that pops up in your notifications brings an immediate grin to your face, enough to somehow make the entire world fade into insignificance.

And you probably get a bit too lost that you don’t notice Joshua approaching with drinks.

“Texting Seungcheol?”

His voice almost makes you drop your phone in a panic.

“I... No, I-I wasn’t.” You snatch your drink from his hands and take a long sip to relieve yourself.

“Come on, I know you like him. Ever since the birthday party the two of you looked awfully close.” Joshua comments teasingly, sliding into the seat in front of you and leaning in close. “I think... if I remember correctly, the two of you left the house together for a walk at some point?”

Is this man a telepath or something? A wizard of some sorts? Was it the cousin instincts in him that was kicking in?

You feel the blush growing in your cheeks, making you take another sip of your drink to help cool away your nervousness. Joshua always had a knack for picking up the subtleties of your body language, even if he was all the way across a damn café. Or maybe you were just blatantly obvious𑁋that’s probably what it is.

“Out of all people he just happens to be one of your best friends.” You murmur lowly under your breath.

“You’re saying that like it’s a curse.” Joshua chuckles, sipping his own drink.

You smile faintly to yourself. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just...” You look up to meet Joshua’s intrigued eyes. “...I want to do it right, you know? Relationships... have never been my thing.”

Joshua leans back in the seat, heaving out a sigh. He understands your hesitation. “Yeah, I know,” Then he leans back in. “but Seungcheol is patient, I can assure you. And... if you want to know anything more about him or any advice, you can always come to me. I can always work my magic.” And then he gives a stupidly disgusting wink.

All you do giggle and give him a grateful nod. Joshua is truly your cousin and best friend in one.

“Thanks, Shua.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #joshua fluff #hong jisoo fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong x reader #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong fluff #joshua imagines #svt fluff

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lilacsbeeswax · 4 months

Note

If ur feeling up for angst. Sirius x Reader where the reader accidentally sees him put on some glamour spell to cover a black eye, so she asks him what happened and he breaks down and tells her about his parents.

Glamour

-Sirius Black x Reader-

-Angst-

MASTERLIST

The train’s whistle rang out onto the platform 9 and 3/4 signaling 10 minutes before departure. Most people were meeting up on the concrete platform surrounding the train, chatting along to friends that they haven’t seen since summer break.

I knew exactly where to go as soon as I got there. Unlucky train compartment number 13 as me and my friends would always call it. A joke that stemmed from all of us ending up in the compartment and becoming quick friends.

Usually, I was the first one in our compartment, as I have a horrible compulsion to be incredibly early for absolutely everything. Though this time, I have a suspicion, is different.

Speeding my way through the narrow train hallway, I count the numbers all the way to our beautiful sanctuary of happiness.

Peering in through the window, I could see Sirius’ curly black head of hair, though it was distinctly shorter than normal. Just as I was about to enter, I backed up and watched from a distance. Sirius was staring into a metal hand mirror, stuffed in a corner with his wand pointed at this face. One by one, he cast spells on bruises and scrapes on his face and they quickly disappeared.

I slid the oak door open and looked over him. “Sirius?” I said his name softly.

He quickly dropped the mirror and his wand onto the floor. The metal and wood clashed against the hard floor, echoing a loud noise across the train. “Y/n!” He shouted in surprise. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I’m always early, it’s kind of odd for you on the other hand.” I said sliding the door to a close and sitting across from him. “Do you want to talk?”

“What did you see?” He asked, looking as though he had wanted to cry, something I had never seen from Sirius before.

“I saw you casting glamor charms on your face to cover your wounds. What happened, Sirius? Are you okay?”

At my words, he broke. The always charming, never serious, Sirius, broke down. “What if I don’t know?” He asked, voice cracking.

“It’s okay, Sirius. I promise, you’re okay.” I moved sit next to him. He softly laid his head on my chest and wrapped his long arms around my torso. I moved my hand to softly brush his curls with my fingers.

“My- uhh my parents. My mother particularly hasn’t been very happy with me- ever really.” He sobbed, sounding particularly upset saying mother. “She’s always so angry.”

“Oh Sirius,” I whispered.

“When I was younger and sometimes even now when Mother was angry at Regulus, I would do something to make her focus on me. I’ve taken so many beatings for him… yet I think he’s told her everything that I do while I’m at school. This whole summer- I- it’s been horrible. She chopped off my hair too. My beautiful hair…”

“You still have beautiful hair, short or not. As for Regulus, it’s an amazing thing what you’ve done for him. I know you have a whole hatred against him, but you still love him so much.”

“I do love him, so much.”

“You’re so strong, Sirius.” I said, stroking his cheek. “Please don’t hide this stuff from me. I care about you. A lot. You have no idea how much you mean to me and the rest of our friends.”

“Thank you for listening, Y/n. It means the world.”

“Of course, I’m always here.”

MASTERLIST

#sirius black x you #sirius x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #harry potter fanfiction #angst #lilacsasks

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goodluckclove · 16 days

Text

FINAL BLIND TRUST SNEEK PEEK

The results were close enough that I decided to post something that I think is happy and sad. I also don't think I've posted anything directly about Regina Mustard Kaufner, matriarch of the Kaufner family. This feels like spoilers and kind of is but kind of isn't because even in context it leaves you with more questions than answers.

Enjoy reading the start of the mom I really wish I had. I like her a lot.

Seriously guys I need to stop revealing more of this novel before it comes out. I'm just so fucking excited aaaaaa

“I’m going to take them.”

“What?” Enoch said from the other end of the phone. “Mustard, no. That’s kidnapping.”

Regina leaned back in the car seat and kept her eyes on the doors to the University. “Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m going to kidnap them.”

“Fucking hell – that’s…” Enoch trailed off, and when she spoke again she was much calmer. “We’ll call the police. If we have proof of abuse we can call the police.”

But we don’t have proof, Regina wanted to point out. All we have are the visions of my son and some bruises that’ll be covered up by an organization with authority near to that of the Catholic church.

Enoch clicked her tongue anxiously, as if she were right beside her waiting for class to get out. “I don’t like this,” she said. “You said the parents refused to meet with you. What if they’ve tracked your license plate?”

“I’m being very discreet,” Regina tried to assure her.

“Well if you’re still in the Doctor’s car then no, you aren’t. Regina, you can’t keep taking these kinds of risks. You have children to think about.”

The doors pushed open and released a sea of purple-suited children all around Scott and Tenzin’s age. Regina immediately stopped paying attention to what her love was saying. She shifted the phone into her opposite hand and got out of the car, standing to peer through all the faces and dissect the crowd into parts. Looking for the smaller body. The larger set of eyes.

Because yes, Regina did have children. And right now, one of them needed her help.

Once the crowd started to thin Regina began to worry. Did she miss her chance? She was starting to consider pulling off and circling the surrounding city blocks, but before she went any farther with that line of thought she caught sight of a familiar face she was seeing for the very first time.

They were smaller than the other kids and walked a little slower – not from noticeable depression, just deep in thought. They had a young face that was still slightly older than what made sense for their age, with large, deep-set eyes hued a warm shade of brown.

This child matched Scott’s description of Eddie. What identified them for certain, however, was the feeling that flooded Regina’s system as soon as she caught site of them. Her love for those around her came in varying colors. For Enoch it was a bright emerald green, while Tenzin was more of a comforting blue-gray. It was always different for everyone – always – and yet when she looked at the child absently making his way down the stairs she felt the exact color of love she felt whenever she looked at Scott.

Sunflower yellow. Every single time.

It had to be them. Eddie.

Enoch was in the middle of explaining some kind of Louisiana legality when Regina hung up on her without a word. She got out of the car and fidgeted, unsure how to do this. She had no intention of stealing them if they didn’t want to go with her. It would help to find a way to explain who she was in a way that would make sense to the child – but in a way that didn’t encourage them to strike up conversations with frantic strangers in the future. Everything that made sense before Eddie walked outside now felt just as wrong as everyone had been trying to tell her.

This wasn’t Scott. Regina had to remind herself that. This was the other fragment of the being that ended up developing into her son. Was she truly as responsible for this half of his spirit as she was for him?

Not seeing a gap in the sidewalk, Eddie stumbled and scraped his knee against the concrete. From across the street Regina could see the wound, a grating of skin just deep enough to swell blood. It was the type of thing Scott would proudly show off before washing clean with a hose and bounding back off with his day. Eddie, however, stayed still. They did not move. Staring down at the blood, they broke down immediately in quiet tears.

No one was helping them. A few purple-suited adults looked at them as they passed, but did nothing. Regina bore this sight for maybe ten seconds before she grunted in annoyance and ran over to their aid.

“Oh wow!” She exclaimed. “You really tumbled, didn’t you?”

Eddie shrank even smaller on the ground and turned his face away from her. Horror weighed her heavy in place, and Regina knelt down and adjusted her attitude.

She started by speaking much softer. “Does it hurt?” She asked.

“It – It’s scary.”

“The blood?” Regina glanced down at the trickle of red running down just below the hem of his shorts. “Yes. You don’t like blood,” she smiled vaguely. “It’s kind of spooky isn’t it? Do you think it means that something bad happened?”

The child nodded. They lowered their arm away from their face, though still kept their eyes focused down from Regina’s direct line of sight. A sign of respect from Academy children, she learned some time ago. It disgusted her to think about.

She rifled through her bag and pulled out a few paper packets. “I keep sanitary wipes on me,” she said, tearing the top off of one. “They’re for my son. I don’t think he would mind if I used a few to help clean you up, though. Would that be all right with you?”

At first Eddie didn’t respond. He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he nodded.

“The thing about scrapes like this,” Regina told them as she gently wiped away the blood up his leg, “is that they feel a lot worse than they actually are. You’ve really only hurt a few layers of skin – and you have many layers of skin, Eddie – so you haven’t gone deep enough to cause any permanent damage on it’s own. This might sting a little bit, buddy.”

Regina pressed a fresh sanitary wipe over the wound. Eddie’s face scrunched up without making much of a sound, and once again she felt the sunflower yellow of adoration for her child.

“You’re being very brave,” she murmured. “Anyhow, it hurts because under your skin has things called nerves. And that’s how you feel things – most things, at least,” Regina was quickly reaching the borders of her medical knowledge. “You didn’t hurt your body. It’s more like you triggered the alarm system that lets you know that something bad could’ve happened. Does that make sense?”

Somewhere in that explanation Eddie gathered the nerve to look at her. They seemed uncertain, and yet more than a little curious. She got a better look at his eyes, and at the iris coloboma that gave them the quality of something antique and wise.

She supposed that meant they could see hers as well. She wondered if Eddie would ask about them.

“How do you know my name?” They quietly questioned her.

Regina’s eyes widened slightly. Did she call them Eddie? Was she so preoccupied with comforting them that she forgot to make any effort to do things subtly?

She thought about Enoch. She should’ve let Enoch come with her.

“My name is Regina,” she said. “But you can call me Mustard if you’d like. Wouldn’t that be funny? It’s like the flower, but it’s also a sauce.”

Regina stood up and pulled her wallet out of her purse. Eddie followed her lead and got up on their own accord. Still, they didn’t drop the issue. “Do you know my mother?” They asked.

She thought about the cold voice that spoke to her on the phone and shivered. “No,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m actually...I’m Scott’s mom.”

“...Scott?”

There was a photo in the inner fold of her wallet. It was new, printed by Enoch only a week before Regina drove off on this terrible road trip, but already the creases were well-defined from folding and unfolding. It was of Scott and Tenzin, each only half-visible and under a pillow fort that collapsed over them mid-nap. Regina smiled at the image, then turned it to Edgar and pointed at Scott’s laughing face.

The recognition was stark. For a moment it was frightened. Then that broke away, and Eddie’s brown eyes once again welled with tears.

“He’s real?” They managed weakly.

in short, regina's entire perspective towards edgar could be summarized by this old nedroid comic:

if you have shit parents she probably would do the same for you.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #writing #authors of tumblr #queer writers #actually writing #blind trust #writing excerpt #novel excerpt #agender #transgender

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