#catch me going to the bar and getting one of those instead of Anything else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seungkwansphd · 1 year

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just deserts

pairing: wonwoo x minghao x fem reader word count: 4.9k synopsis: when wonwoo and minghao invited you to this fancy business event, it hadn't really crossed your mind that they'd be busy working instead of entertaining you! perhaps you can find someone else to keep you busy, but those who misbehave always get their just deserts. themes/cw: SMUT! mdni!, threesome, established poly, BDSM elements, brat-ish vibes, toy usage, rough sex, power dynamic, degradation kink, spitting(once), cumplay(kinda?).

a/n: idk friends, the horny thoughts just keep coming. baby's first 3some fic! i think i got everything for content warnings, but do lmk if i missed anything! also TYSM to @playmetheclassics for beta-ing and making me this BEAUTIFUL banner (via @classicscreations) i appreciate you so much!

“Hao I’m bored,” you pouted, tugging at Minghao’s necktie as you looked up at him.

“Bored? Or needy?” He glanced down at you, clocking your true intentions immediately.

“Both,” your lips curled up at him playfully. “Do you and Wonwoo have to do so much networking tonight?”

“You already know the answer to that,” he replied. He was trying to be stern, but you knew that Minghao typically had a softer spot for you than Wonwoo.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” you grumbled. “At least at home I wouldn’t be wearing such uncomfortable heels and I could have fun by myself,” you whispered suggestively at Hao, fingertips tracing down the edge of his lapel mischievously.

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up with interest. Your teasing words forced him to recall the last time he’d watched you pleasure yourself and he found himself effectively distracted.

“Quit it,” Wonwoo appeared behind you, whispering discreetly in your ear. He’d been watching you and Minghao from across the room and could tell that Hao was close to folding.

“Quit what?” you asked, feigning innocence, blinking up at Wonwoo with wide eyes.

“You know what,” he hissed, tugging harshly at one of the ties on your dress. “Hao, you need to go talk to the president of the bank.”

Minghao stood up straight and cleared his throat. Wonwoo was right, some clear objectives needed to be met tonight. He downed the rest of the drink and made his way towards the president, leaving you and Wonwoo alone. You were disappointed when Wonwoo’s eyes caught another potential investor’s and he left you just as swiftly.

You sulked. When Wonwoo and Hao had originally asked if you’d wanted to attend, the idea of getting dolled up to attend this fancy event had appealed to you. Still, you hadn’t realized just how much business they both intended to do! You’d spent the last few hours mostly by yourself and your feet absolutely throbbed with pain, so you were in a bad mood to say the least.

Well, if Minghao and Wonwoo weren’t going to pay attention to you, you were sure you could find someone else who would.

“Oh, Dylan?” you smiled happily as you caught sight of a young investor that you had met a few months ago.

“Oh, YN? I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!” the handsome young gentleman smiled, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either!” your eyes sparkled at him, squeezing him back maybe just a tad too enthusiastically. “How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually,” he answered after some thought. “Are you tied up? If not, let’s grab a drink to catch up.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back genially. “Let’s do it!” You placed your hand into his and allowed him to lead you towards the bar. Wonwoo and Minghao’s relationship with Dylan was interesting and complicated. As an investor of many businesses, he was somehow both a prospect and a competitor at the same time. While they often found themselves competing with businesses that he held a stake in, they would also more than welcome investment from him. As always, you were acting in a way that you knew would irritate them, but wouldn’t completely piss them off.

Minghao’s eyes flitted to you from across the room. Dylan Wang wasn’t on the list of marks for the evening, but certainly would’ve been a ‘nice to have’. He and Wonwoo did their best to stay engaged in their respective conversations, but every simpering giggle that fell from your lips caused their ears to prick towards you. Their eyes met, communicating silently. They finished their respective schmoozing and moved to intercept you.

“Oh, Hao!” your eyes lit up as you saw him first. “Dylan, you remember my colleague, Minghao?” you beamed at Dylan as you gestured towards Hao.

“Of course,” Dylan nodded at the other man.

“It’s good to see you again,” Minghao greeted him stiffly, almost physically fighting the urge to stare daggers at the hand draped around your waist.

“Actually, if you have a moment, I’d love to pick your brain,” Hao finally came up with an excuse, prying Dylan from your side. At the same time, Wonwoo materialized behind you and pulled you behind a heavily foliaged fiddle leaf fig.

“Care to explain yourself?” He asked, peering at you down the line of his nose.

“About?” you asked, as if clueless. Wonwoo’s eyebrows twitched with irritation before he replied.

“A little bit of attention and he can put his hands on you? Are you that easy?” he sneered. His eyes flicked over you in a way that triggered a warmth to spread across your cheeks.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could retort.

“I know you’re bored, but if you don’t get a hold of yourself, you’ll have something else to worry about,” he hissed in your ear, gripping your hips tightly.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion, so Wonwoo went on to elaborate.

“You are dangerously close to getting bent over and railed right here. If you’re that desperate we can ruin this whole event. I’m almost past caring at this point.”

The words were menacing and sent a chill down your spine. Part of you thought that Wonwoo was above his baser urges and wouldn’t undo months of planning just to punish you, but the other part of you had seen this man at his most unhinged and you thought perhaps he just might.

“It’s so boring though,” you frowned. You could feel Wonwoo’s poor mood rolling off of him.

“Then go home,” he spoke through his teeth. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.

“Car’s coming.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stomping off towards the coat check.

“Be ready when we get home,” he caught your wrist, voice so low you could barely hear it. “And don’t think it’s worth your while to get a head start.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing at him before you tried to step away. Wonwoo’s fingers bit into you, a warning, and you nodded before you slipped out of his grip and worked towards the car. Your lips curled up into a smile once you were out of his line of sight. If you played your cards right, you might get what you wanted.

…

Wonwoo ran his right hand over his face as he looked at the phone in his left hand. He’d thought that sending you home would be enough to make you behave, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He scrolled through the pictures and texts that he had had to silence and his blood boiled.

“She’s in for it, isn’t she?” Minghao chuckled, throwing his partner a wry look.

“What do you think?” Wonwoo almost snapped.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one being a brat,” Hao threw his hands up in defense.

“No, but you encourage her,” Woo accused. Generally he enjoyed the dynamic nature of your relationship, but it really would’ve been easier tonight if you had just been good.

“Shall we take bets on whether she managed to wait?” Hao chuckled.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Wonwoo rolled his eyes with a snicker, “She was so needy. I bet she’s a mess already.”

“I guess I’ll have to have a little faith then,” Minghao laughed, leaning forward to shake Wonwoo’s hand.

You huffed as you scrolled through your phone, disappointed but not surprised that neither Minghao nor Wonwoo had responded to your many lewd texts. You had graced them with a play by play of your various states of undress as you’d slipped out of your gown and you’d expected at least one text back, but they both seemed to be playing hardball tonight.

Your ears pricked to attention as you heard them return. First, the scraping of the key in the door was followed by a series of footsteps, but you were surprised when you heard them stop. You couldn’t see it, but Wonwoo and Minghao were discussing the approach they planned to take, which had the added bonus of making you wait. Eventually, their footfalls resumed and they entered your room, the stern expressions on their faces sending a chill down your spine.

“Hi,” you greeted them. Your voice sounded small, even to yourself.

“I guess I was wrong, Hao,” Wonwoo sneered, barely even looking at you, “She was able to control herself.”

“I guess so,” Minghao chuckled, hands in his pockets. “I’ll owe you.”

“Did you take bets on me?” your brow wrinkled as you pieced things together. You were both offended and excited.

“And if we did?” Wonwoo looked down his nose at you, one eyebrow raised. When you couldn’t formulate a response his lips curled up into a smirk.

“That’s what I thought.”

Even though you grew weak when Wonwoo treated you this way, you couldn't help the reflexive way your temper flared. Glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.

“Great, you’re home. Now good night,” you scrunched your nose at him, laying back down and pulling the covers over yourself. Minghao was amused at this behavior and he complied easily when Wonwoo gestured for him to go to you.

“Good night?” Hao cooed, sitting next to you on the bed, running his fingertips across your exposed shoulder. “After all that teasing, you’re just going to go to bed?”

“You guys are boring anyways,” you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but you shifted slightly so that you were facing him more.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Hao smiled down at you, trailing his fingers up your neck to cup your chin and rub the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. You hummed, preening under his praise.

“You looked so good tonight, it was hard to keep my hands off you,” he continued to shower you with compliments as Wonwoo wandered towards the dresser and pulled the top drawer open.

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes at Hao.

Wonwoo’s expression ticked at this behavior. You’d been riding the line with your poor behavior all night and this pushed him over the edge.

“Out of bed, now,” his deep voice rang out tersely. You looked at him with surprise and his expression sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed loudly, pulse quickening as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The edge that you could hear in Wonwoo’s voice made you wonder if you had pushed too hard.

“Come here,” he instructed, back still facing you as he perused the contents of the drawer. You glanced at Minghao nervously before stepping towards Wonwoo, looking at his broad back until he turned to face you. His tongue swiped across his teeth as he took in your pajama set with distaste.

“Get out of this,” were the last words he spoke before he tossed a bundle of shibari rope at Minghao and pulled an app-controlled vibrator out of the drawer.

Minghao started undoing the rope from its storage tie and looked towards Wonwoo for guidance on how he wanted you tonight. After ensuring that the toy was connected to his phone, Wonwoo brought himself toe to toe with you, pulling your chin up harshly to meet his gaze.

“Color?” he asked. His tone was cold, but you could see a hint of softness in his eyes if you squinted.

“Green.”

“Limits?”

“Same as usual,” you blinked up at him.

Wonwoo nodded before shifting slightly to position your arms behind you so that Minghao could tie you up. He folded your forearms together so that each hand held the opposite elbow and you enjoyed the slight stretch that you felt through your shoulders. Your skin broke out in goosebumps as Hao started binding you. His fingertips trailed across your skin teasingly as he snaked rope around you, snapping it against your skin tautly every so often for impact. Your arms were effectively immobilized and the rope created a harness around your chest. Hao slipped two fingers into each of your hands and you gripped them tightly, completing his check to ensure he hadn’t cut off your circulation.

“Knees,” Wonwoo demanded as he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He smirked as you dropped for him, struggling for a moment to keep your balance as you didn’t have your arms to help right you. His eyes burned into you as he pulled at his tie, loosening it before he approached. Your nipples puckered being in this vulnerable position as adrenaline rushed through you.

“You look so good like this,” Hao cupped your cheek in his hand as he stood behind you. “On your knees for us.”

“Hn,” you giggled, looking up at him sweetly as his thumb grazed your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking his thumb into your wet hole.

“Look at you. You’ll put your mouth on anything, won’t you?” Wonwoo sneered, eyes trained on the shape your lips made around Minghao’s digit. He allowed it to go on for a few more moments before he snaked a hand into your hair, pulling you back. You gasped in surprise and Wonwoo seized the opportunity to pop the remote controlled vibe into your mouth.

“Hold this for me,” he chuckled sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him, but whatever retort you could have come up with was effectively muzzled.

Hao patted you on the head before undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He sank to his knees behind you, checking your grip before using his hands to torture you. Wonwoo watched as Hao’s fingertips traced along his bindings, brushed along the undersides of your breasts, and gripped tightly, as if trying to bruise you. Then with his left hand, you traced along your inner thighs until he met the slick dripping out of you.

“Absolutely fucking soaked,” he snickered as he nipped at your collarbone sharply. “Pathetic.”

You let out a desperate, muffled sound, forgetting that Wonwoo’s toy was still in your mouth.

“Shall I?” Minghao’s eyes flitted up to the older man’s.

“Yes, can’t have her leaking all over the place, after all,” Wonwoo nodded after blinking slowly.

Hao chuckled as he plucked the toy from your mouth, reaching between your legs, and sliding it into you, nice and snug. Your arousal provided more than sufficient lubrication and you felt yourself being filled until the base sat securely against your clit. Your hips jerked slightly at this new sensation, arching back against his broad chest.

You clenched around the toy and watched Wonwoo play with his phone lazily. He didn’t even bother to look at you as you turned it on, setting it abuzz at a medium setting.

“Oh!” you whimpered pathetically, jumping slightly. Minghao’s grip on your rope harness, however, held you firmly in place as you soaked the toy lodged deep inside of you. You squirmed and twisted as Wonwoo increased the speed.

“Wonwoo!” you pleaded with him fruitlessly.

“Hao,” Wonwoo’s eyebrows jerked up slightly and Minghao nodded, reaching forward to press his palm against the base of the toy. You jerked again, desperate for relief, but Hao’s grip on your harness was ironclad.

“Hao!” you cried, tears welling in your eyes as his right hand pressed against you, grinding the buzzing toy cruelly against your sopping wet, swollen clit. You let out a mangled scream as your first orgasm ripped through you, your head falling back against Hao’s shoulder, chest heaving beautifully for Wonwoo to witness.

“One more,” Hao whispered in your ear as he kept the toy pressed against you, working you through another orgasm until you were gasping wildly for breath.

“I fucking hate you two,” you cursed between inhale and exhale, body heavy as you tried to gather yourself.

“You keep running your mouth like that and I’ll leave you tied up on the floor with the toy on all night,” Wonwoo’s eyes flashed dangerously at you. Your lips pressed into a straight line before you could say anything else.

“That’s better,” Wonwoo scoffed, squatting down in front of you, jerking you up by Hao’s ties to meet him. “Open.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your mouth, already anticipating his next move. Wonwoo’s expression was a mixture of appreciation and disdain when he sent a glob of saliva flying into your mouth. You let out the tiniest of whimpers when it landed at the back of your tongue. You hated and loved how well he knew you.

“You might as well put your mouth to use,” Wonwoo stood, gesturing towards Minghao as he walked away.

You turned to Minghao with a playful grin, licking your lips with anticipation. Minghao’s lips curled up into a smile, but he surprised you when he moved away from you, instead electing to sit in a chair across the room. He leaned back, legs spread as he palmed himself through the front of his pants. When you didn’t move, he looked up, eyes hooded, and summoned you towards him with two fingers.

You threw him a look. He really expected you to get to him on your knees like this?

“Come,” he coaxed, voice deceptively like honey as he palmed himself through his slacks.

You struggled a little, but eventually managed to balance on your knees and shuffle towards him. For a moment you contemplated rather you’d prefer being unbound, as crawling would be less difficult, though maybe more humiliating. By the time you had managed to wedge yourself between his legs, your arousal had dripped practically down to your knees.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo settled in behind you, placing his fingers into your hands for another safety check. “Now show him what that filthy mouth is good for,” he grinned. “Don’t forget to use your physical cues on me if you need.”

You nodded, smiling gratefully before leaning forward to drag your lips across Minghao’s erection. You nibbled along the underside of it until you reached the tip and pulled him into your mouth. You hummed contentedly when you heard him hiss with pleasure. Minghao always made such nice sounds. Being restrained posed a bit of an extra challenge, but you managed to find a position where you were comfortable enough to bob your head up and down his length, breath catching every so often when his tip hit the back of your throat.

“So sloppy,” Minghao exhaled, puncturing the quiet as his abs contracted and twitched.

Wonwoo gripped your hips, grinding himself against your ass as he watched with admiration. You were going to leave a stain on his slacks, but that only served to egg him on more. Something in Wonwoo snapped as he watched you moan around Minghao’s cock and his thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. Digging his fingertips into your hips, he pulled you back, jerking Minghao out of your mouth. You cried out loudly as Wonwoo ground himself against the toy still firmly lodged inside of you.

“Wonwoo,” you wailed.“Please!”

“Oh?” he cooed, deceptively sweet, in your ear. “Gonna cum again? Cum for me?”

“Yes, Woo,” you nodded desperately.

“Go ahead,” he ordered, hand now fisted around one of the shibari ropes around your back. His hips pumped against you mercilessly and you came with a fluttery wail, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Do you want your arms back?” Wonwoo murmured against the top of your head as he supported you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Hao,” Wonwoo jerked his head towards you and Minghao quickly set upon untying you. You smiled at him gratefully as he supported your upper body, rubbing your shoulders gently where he knew you’d be stiff.

“I do enjoy seeing you marked up like this,” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow as he counted the indents that the rope had left on your skin as he pulled you to your feet.

You turned to reach for him, eager at his praise. You were completely surprised when he caught you by the side of the face and held you away at arm’s length.

“Wha-?” you mumbled against his palm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo asked, tone cold.

“Oh, I just-,” you stuttered, “I thought-...” you trailed off. Now that you tried to put it into words, you didn’t know what you’d been thinking.

“Now we all know that thinking isn’t your strong suit, kitten. Do you really think that after all your bad behavior today, you’re going to get a sweet little kiss?” he sneered at you.

“Not when you put it like that,” you pouted.

“So desperate for attention that you were even willing to let Dylan Wang put his hands on you,” Minghao appeared behind you, hand sliding over your hip possessively. “Did you forget who you belong to?”

“No, I-,” your craned your head, eyes searching him out.

“Laughing like a simpering little twit at his bad jokes, hanging off his arm,” Wonwoo seethed, pulling your attention back to him. They were giving you whiplash.

“I-,” you struggled to think. Your knees threatened to buckle, but Wonwoo and Minghao had closed in on you and their torsos sandwiched you firmly upright.

“Tell us who you belong to, doll,” Hao’s lips nipped at your ear. The warm, wet whisper of breath made you dizzy and even though you knew the answer, you truly floundered as you tried to say it.

“Jeon Wonwoo! Xu Minghao!”

Both men cracked into a smile.

“Very good. Now shall we get some sleep? It’s been a long day,” Wonwoo teased.

“No!” you were surprised at the urgency with which your objection came out.

“Oh? So what is it that you want?” Wonwoo’s eyes raked over you.

“You know what I want,” you glared at him.

“I do. But I want you to use your words,” he patted your cheek condescendingly.

“I need you two to fuck me,” you answered, well past shameless at this point. You needed them and you’d do almost anything to get it.

“You won’t even be satisfied by one cock?” Hao laughed.

“Please, I’ve been go-,” you started to make your case, but you realized you didn’t have one. “Well, I’ve been waiting all night. Please.”

Wonwoo and Minghao both let out hearty laughs at your self-correction. Even if you weren’t always good, you’d always been honest, even to a fault.

“You have been waiting all night,” Wonwoo’s expression softened. “I suppose you can have what you want.”

“Really?” your eyes lit up.

They practically carried you to the bed, tossing you carelessly onto it. You watched, eyes glistening, as they undressed. Your thighs pressed together and you were surprised. With all of their teasing and torture, you’d completely forgotten that the toy was still inside of you. Wonwoo noticed at the same time that you did and he reached forward, plucking it from between your legs. He surprised you when he licked it, noting how you’d soaked it completely.

“Tasty,” he grinned, eyeing you hungrily as he set it aside.

You balked, ducking your head and flushing with disbelief. Hao chuckled at how you got shy before he slid his hands up your thighs and pushed your legs apart. His cock landed against your wet folds a few times as he teased you.

“Wow, completely drenched,” he groaned appreciatively as he watched your arousal coat his shaft. You squirmed, pushing your hips up towards him desperately. You needed more.

“Hao,” you mewled, grasping at his forearms. “No more teasing, please!”

Minghao chuckled. He might’ve been nicer than Wonwoo, but he still wasn’t that nice. He shifted to slide the tip of himself inside of you, but no further. Your brows knitted up with anticipation and then confusion when you realized what was happening. You tried pressing your hips up to take more of him, but he pulled back, managing to keep himself just barely inside of you.

“Minghao,” you huffed, clearly frustrated, but you kept trying, shifting your hips fruitlessly. It was as if you both held the ends of a rope and Minghao was doing his best to keep it just barely slack.

Wonwoo looked on with interest. He was surprised to see Hao in this kind of mood, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it. Smiling, he moved to the other side of the bed, towards your head. He leaned over you, cupping your cheek softly.

“Wonwoo,” you clutched at him naturally, “Woo, please,” you begged.

“Sorry kitten,” Wonwoo cooed condescendingly at you, his lips whispering above yours as he watched you writhe. Sweat beaded up on your nose as you tried, again and again, to work yourself down Minghao’s cock.

“Hao, please,” your eyes watered as you looked at him, fraught with arousal.

The corner of Minghao’s lip turned up just a fraction before he bucked his hips towards you, thrusting deeply. The gasp you let out tickled his ego and he continued, stroking into you deeply. From Wonwoo’s vantage point, it would almost seem brutal, but both he and Minghao knew it was what you wanted and needed.

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed as a wicked idea formed in his head. He leaned over you slightly and placed his palm against your lower abdomen, pressing down lightly.

“Wonwoo!” You and Minghao both let out jagged gasps at this additional pressure. Hao threaded his fingers through yours and after two more thrusts, orgasms ripped through you both.

“Bastard,” Hao cursed after he had caught his breath.

Wonwoo laughed. He’d certainly been called worse. As Minghao rolled off of you, he cupped your cheek again. Your eyes flicked up to him and he was surprised to see they were still full of want.

“More?” he asked.

“Want you, Woo,” you murmured affectionately, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Insatiable,” he laughed, but it was something he adored about you. He and Minghao traded places and Wonwoo slotted himself between your legs. Minghao’s cum was starting to leak so he quickly gathered it up and pushed it back into you.

Minghao’s hands cupped your chin as Wonwoo slid into you. He watched your pupils dilate as your mouth fell open, letting out the most gorgeous whimpers and sobs. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by you for a few moments before he returned to the task at hand - to make you cum and cum and cum until you were completely spent.

Hao and Wonwoo got along great, but when it came to your dynamics as three, they were nothing if not competitive. Minghao’s hands brushed along your skin, bringing up goosebumps. When they rolled over your nipples, you clenched, which wrinkled Wonwoo’s brow just a hair. Minghao looked down to hide his smirk. That was easy.

“You’re so responsive. You must be sensitive, doll,” Hao cooed in your ear as he reached down to rub your clit with his fingertips. You jerked slightly at his touch, walls squeezing around Wonwoo again as Hao worked counterclockwise.

Your mouth fell open, letting out a series of short pants as Hao worked you quickly to another orgasm. Wonwoo’s brows pinched together as your pussy spasmed around him torturously. He managed to keep his resolve, but Minghao did not ease up, fingers rubbing again, this time slower and firmer.

“Hao,” you moaned as you sank into the mattress. They were really intent on wrecking you tonight, huh?

“Pretty little toy,” Minghao cooed in your ear, “You’ll take it, won’t you? Whatever we give.”

“Ahh!” you cried. His words were enough to push you over the edge again. You convulsed around Wonwoo as you came and Minghao was truly surprised to see him continue to buck into you, adding to your overstimulation.

You had barely managed a few lungfuls of air before it started again. Wonwoo’s hand came down to rest around your throat as he met your eyes. His gaze was intense and you could feel yet another orgasm building in you already. You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn’t need to use your safe word yet, but you were starting to wonder how much more you could take. You were brought out of your thoughts, however, when Minghao landed a loud, wet slap against your clit. The knob of heat in your belly exploded through you violently. Wonwoo grunted loudly as you triggered his orgasm and he unloaded deep inside of you as you came.

You didn’t pass out, but it felt like you were regaining consciousness as you caught your breath. You were sore, tired, and so utterly satisfied. You grinned up at Hao and Wonwoo happily, eyes creasing into semi-circles.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Wonwoo spoke first, shifting off you. “It’s been a long day.”

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked as you settled into the pillows.

“What, still haven’t had enough?” Minghao teased, grabbing your chin gently.

“No plans yet,” Wonwoo answered. The toy he’d set on the nightstand earlier caught his eye. He picked it up and his eyes flashed at you playfully. “Maybe we’ll go out and make better use of this.”

You swallowed audibly.

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apomaro-mellow · 4 months

Text

King&Prince 9

Steve sprinted so quick and fast, his instincts narrowing down and only allowing him to hear his panting breath, beating heart and the forest rushing around him. He needed to hide, to get away. He'd just slapped him.

He slapped King Edward.

If being a royal from an enemy kingdom wasn't grounds for execution, striking the monarch definitely had to be. Steve hadn't a single weapon on him, he didn't stand a chance in a fight. But if he could get far enough, if he could catch his breath and come up with a plan of action...

Heights

He could get up high. That would give him some time. At the next tree, he began to climb. Up higher and higher until he thought he was far above enough that the king wouldn't immediately find him. Now that he had a moment, he breathed in deep and then out, going slow and taking in his surroundings.

All he could see was dreary greenery. It almost looked like he was back home. He put a hand to his chest, willing his heart to calm down. What were the odds of a random townsperson knowing his face? If he was to escape and get back home, now was the time. Going back home like this wasn't really what he wanted, but he literally had nowhere else to go. His father might consider him a disappointment, but he was still a prince. Barring any surprise children, he would one day inherit the kingdom and that's what this was all for.

He didn't belong anywhere else, certainly not here.

There was the sound of something moving through the trees and he tensed up. It was probably just birds, but he felt as though he couldn't be too sure.

"Come down Little Prince~", the king's voice sang from below.

"Shit!"

"No sudden movements! You'll tumble right down."

Steve looked down and was just barely able to make out the king's form. It also made him realize just how high he'd climbed. He got dizzy just thinking of it and closed his eyes, trying to ground himself.

"I'm not coming down!", Steve shouted.

"So you're just going to live there now? What do you really thinks going to happen if you leave the tree?"

Steve thought about what would happen if someone had ever struck his father. He pressed his hands into the trunk. If he had ever put his hands on his father, instead of the other way around.

"You alright up there, Harrington?" When he didn't get an answer right away, his brow pinched. "Hey! Talk to me, are you okay?"

Steve took a breath. "I'm not going down just to be killed!", he finally said. "Not by you, or by anyone else here."

Steve didn't hear the sigh come from the king. He didn't hear much of anything besides the rustling of leaves as something slowly moved upward. He wasn't surprised when the king rose up and sat on the branch next to him.

"You could've come up here the whole time", he said.

"Just one of my many talents", the king said.

"So why didn't you?"

"And have you flail around and break your neck? You seemed pretty opposed to touching me."

"You're a monster", Steve said quietly, almost as if he didn't believe it anymore.

Eddie thought about how no one was coming for Steve, and for the first time he wondered what sort of monsters he lived with. He had to tell him. Tell him that his kingdom had forsaken him and that if he tried to return, it wouldn't be to fanfare.

"Let's get you out of this tree", he said instead. He held out a hand, hoping the prince would take it.

Steve looked down and hesitated before reaching out and grabbing it. The king pulled him close and slowly they lowered them down to the ground. Steve let out a breath when he felt the solid dirt beneath his feet.

"I'm sorry. For hitting you earlier. I was just...I don't know, but I'm sorry."

Eddie was surprised by the apology, eyes wide and it even took him a moment to respond. "What, that? Barely a tap. You'll have to do better than that."

He released Steve and started walking back to where they'd left the horse. Without a word, Steve followed. He could hear something out in the distance, and just knew it was those grayish-white creatures from before, probably on all sides. When they got to the horse, Eddie untied it and mounted it first. This time, Steve took his hand to help get up and he put his hands on the king's hips before they took off.

It was easy to imagine that he was riding along with a regular person. Flesh and blood and bone just like his own. When they got back to the castle, Steve's stomach finally spoke up and he thought that now would be a good time to have lunch, seeing as it was late afternoon.

He tried turning towards the kitchen but the king took his by the shoulders and turned him another direction.

"Go down this hall and to the left to the infirmary", he said. "Have your foot checked out."

"My what? It's fine."

"I could just make you", the king warned.

Steve went, not feeling like being carried again. He went in and found Dustin there, getting his arm wrapped up.

"What happened?"

"Max was testing out her homemade anesthetic on me and it, uh... worked."

"Did she cut you open?!", Steve exclaimed. How had these kids survived for this long?

"You know Eddie's going to give you all hell when he finds out", the man patching up Dustin said. "And then he's most certainly telling your mother."

Dustin grimaced. "I hate that he's such a tattle tale. What's the harm? She didn't even cut that deep?"

"And how may I help you?", he ignored Dustin and turned to Steve.

"The king said I should get a cut on my foot checked out?"

"Lucas told me about that. I can't believe you fought with Nancy, do you have a death wish?", Dustin asked. Once his arm was all gauzed up, he beamed. "Thanks Bob."

Steve removed his boot and sat down so that the bandage could be removed and looked at.

"So what did you and Eddie do today?", Dustin asked, loitering now.

"Um, nothing? I wasn't with Eddie today", Steve said. He tried not to move as dried blood was cleaned but it slightly tickled.

"Robin said she saw you riding off with him."

"I went off for a ride with King Edward, not Eddie", Steve said.

Dustin and Bob shared a look, then turned their gaze back to Steve. They didn't speak, like they were waiting for him to realize something, but it never came.

"Steve...Have you never met Eddie?", Dustin asked.

"No. I literally just got out of that dungeon and since then I've been worked like a dog. The only people I've seen are you and your friends, that kitchen staff...the king...does Eddie work in the kitchen?"

Bob was about to say something, but Dustin tugged his sleeve so hard it threatened to rip.

"This is gonna be so funny, we need to do it in front of everyone."

Part 11

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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MCU characters, any of them, would they just flirt or pine after their crush?

Hm, so just one or the other? Hm. Okay, I'll try not put too much overlap then cause... flirting and pining goes so hand in hand for me.

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor, Loki, Shuri, Kate Bishop, Peter Parker x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, angst, flirting, teasing, pining, kissing, feelings realization, protectiveness

A/N: I just realized that one of my other fluffy MCU posts got flagged lmao. Don't know for that cause there was nothing smutty in there so hopefully this one is ok for Tumblr.

Steve is a complete gentleman while he flirts with you. He's prim and proper, almost courtly in the way he always offers you his arm to take when you take walks... well anywhere, even just down to the coffee shop down the street. He buys you flowers, always has his jacket ready to give you when it gets cold, offers to buy you a drink or does a silly little bow when you walk past him. He'll enjoy how you blush when he kisses your cheek, almost able to feel them warming up just from a little touch of his lips. How would you react is he kissed you on the lips? You might pass out. You can, he'll catch you.

Bucky is pining hard after you. He tries to distract himself from it all, going on missions, spending time with the Avengers and the Thunderbolts rather then in your company in order to get his feelings to go away. He doesn't want to get hurt but more importantly he doesn't want to hurt you, or be the reason someone else hurts you. Your friendship is important to him and he hates the thought of messing it up. Even if you do return his feelings he can't help but think how he doesn't deserve you, that you're too good for him. However even with all those feelings he won't stop helping you, or protecting you when you need it, wrapping his arm securely around your shoulders when the two of you walk home from the dance club or playing the protective boyfriend when someone won't leave you alone.

Sam can be a flirt when he wants to be. He's not one to back down when he sees you at the bar, chatting away with your friends and he wants to approach you. The thing is... he's not the smoothest at first. It definitely takes him a little to get on your good side but he's looking so cute and handsome with his shining smile and warm eyes that you can't help but laugh at the jokes he makes or the way he leans over just a little and brushes his shoulders against yours, inviting you towards the dance floor. One thing that he really confidant in is his dance moves, let him show off for you a little tonight, or a lot depending on how the night goes.

Natasha is extremely confidant in her flirting skills. However there is a hint of pining in there too. Not in a sense that she thinks she can't have you, you're falling over yourself just from a wink and a touch. No she's worried if your feelings would last past the initial puppy love stage. She knows full well how easy it is to have someone wrapped around her finger, ready to do anything she says because of a little kiss. It's so damn easy, too easy. So she wants you to be a bit of a challenge, to make it fun, to make it real. A little game of cat and mouse, or widow and prey in her case, can go a long way when it comes to winning her heart too.

Clint wants to flirt with you so badly but instead he catches himself pining for you as you seemed to have moved on since the universe reset itself. Before he would have swept you off your feet, all charming smiles and quips, but he can't find the energy for that anymore, he just wants to know that you're safe and alive and well. If that means not making a move on you then he will make that sacrifice. He can watch over you from afar, or from close since you're still pretty good friends. Aware that you had feelings for him before he doesn't want to give you false hope in fear of breaking your heart.

Thor is one of the most cocky flirts out there. He's had many, many years to perfect his pick up lines, and sometimes he doesn't even need them, sometimes a heated look is all it takes. The feeling of you shivering against his muscular body ignites the thunder in his veins, the feeling of need in his blood that makes him want you right now. There are definitely sparks flying, and not just metaphorically, but from his fingertips, his lips, his tongue as it presses against the back of your neck, promising more if you'd only go home with him tonight and let him show you what worshiping a god will grant you.

Loki can flirt with you as naturally as he can breathe. At first he's just looking at you, letting you be drawn to him, letting you be the one to approach him first. He wants to feel chased, desired, needed. The next thing you know you are in his lap while he whispers sweet things in your ear that make your head spin, your heart skip a beat and your cheeks grow hot. He takes great pleasure in the effect he has on you just from his words alone, just imagine what he would be able to do if he were to touch you. Oh, you think he'd let you have him that easily, oh no, gods no, he's got much more planned before that. He intends to make you the one who pines after him, only after he's had his fun will he let you have yours.

Shuri is playful but proper when she flirts with you. She might be busy through the day with lab work but she makes a point to take a few minutes every hour or so to send you a little voice message. They might come at the most random of times for you but they don't startle you anymore. You kind of expect her sweet voice in your ear and when you don't hear from her for hours you get worried and needy. All the more cause to tease and flirt with you afterwards. She holds your hand was you walk the halls of the palace and always presses a long kiss on the back of your hand when its time to part.

Kate wants to be good at flirting but messes up half-way through because she loses the confidence. She's definitely overthinking it in her head, what she could have said differently or how she could have approached you better. The poor girl is so wrapped up in her insecurities that she doesn't realize that you're already head over heels, swooning for her as it is. Your kiss upon her cheek almost makes her fall out of the bar chair she was sitting on, her tie coming slightly undone in an extremely attractive way. Instead of giving you the chance to explain that it wasn't a pity kiss she just leaves, but forgets her card. So you have her number now, all that's left is to call her and tell her how cute she is.

Peter is most definitely pining in silence from the other side of the classroom. He averts his eyes when he sees you looking his way, going back to his notes quickly. Pulls his hood over his head when he passes you by in the hallways, too shy to talk to you outside of class or when you're working on a project together. Speaking of he's really looking forward to spending the day at the library with you, its where he feels pretty relaxed and he can focus more easily. Even after he's already been a hero for some time he doesn't risk letting his feelings show but out of worry and protectiveness, not insecurity this time.

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snoreyua · 7 months

Text

₊˚ෆ ⁀➷　come back to me // ep. 1

synopsis : you and riki were childhood best friends doing everything together. when you entered middle school, you overheard him talking shit about you to his so-called friends. out of frustration, you moved schools and cut all contact with him. now starting a new year in high school, what will you do when riki unexpectedly transfers to your school? can you rebuild your friendship or will something much deeper will bloom?

word count : 1.4k

warnings : shit talking, lowercase intended, lmk if i should add anything else

yua's notes : this is my first fic so i apologise if it's not v good hope you still enjoy tho! :D

previous masterlist next

story written under the cut

"catch me if you can!" you taunted the black hair boy who was slowly gaining behind you. "i'm gonna get you!" he yelled back before tackling you in a tight hug. you both giggled as you felt the warmth of the sun on your faces. he let go of you and sat down on the dewy grass, his breathing growing louder by the second. "since when- could you- run so- fast…" he said huffing after each word before letting his body fall back onto the green field. you sat down next to him, smiling from his red face. "you're too slow riki, even with your 'special' sneakers" you said while pointing at his lightning mcqueen sneakers. he rolled his eyes before sitting up again.

you gave him a bright grin as you signalled him to come closer. the black-haired boy edged closer to you, curiously staring at you digging through your pockets, sticking out your tongue while trying to find something. you smiled when your fingers met the braided bracelet, pulling out from your pocket. it was a cream colour, with a blue charm that read "riki". he looked at you as you gently pulled his arm closer to you, putting on the bracelet on his wrist. you put down his arm, looking at him with sparkly eyes. "well? do you like it? i made matching ones with the bracelet kit you gave me for my birthday!" you showed him an identical bracelet, instead of a blue charm was a pink charm which had your name. riki smiled, his eyes barely visible from how happy he was. "thank you y/n i love them!" he said before tackling you in a hug into the grass.

you and riki were inseparable. if you were at school, he would be sitting next to you, using your crayons to draw a portrait of you and him. if you were at the playground, he was copying all your tricks on the monkey bars. if you were at home, he would be in your room, groaning about how your room was too girly. it was like he was permanently stuck on you but you didn't mind. he was your best friend, and as your best friend, he should stay with you until the end. at least that's what you thought.

as you and riki entered middle school, things started to change. for starters, you weren't the best at making friends. seeing that most of your elementary friends were gone, you were often forced to sit by yourself in classes if riki wasn't there. luckily for him, he easily made friends with lots of people and found a group where he hung out with. you often went with him but his group were different. they relentlessly picked on you, saying that you were a freak and that riki had poor choices in friends. he stood up for you most of the time, saying that you were his best friend and they shouldn't be saying those things about you. but one day something changed.

you were waiting for riki beside his locker because you usually walked to class with him. despite for waiting for him for almost half an hour, he never came to his locker. defeated, you walked to class by yourself. you were about to arrive to your classroom when you saw riki with his other friends. rolling your eyes, you were about to approach him when you overheard their conversation. "riki that y/n girl you like," one of the guys said, a tone of disgust in his voice. "she's so weird… like how are you even friends with her," he looked at riki, almost snickering at his own words. "look here, I don't like y/n ok? she's not even my friend she just follows me everywhere, like a lost puppy," riki hissed at the other guy. "i just don't wanna be mean to her and tell her to piss off," he shoved his hands into his pockets before entering the classroom with his friends.

your grip on your books tightened as you felt a wash of emotions crash onto you. before you knew it, your legs directed you to the bathroom, locking yourself inside one of the stalls. your body slumped against the door, still in shock of what your best friend had said about you. his words repeated in your head, like a broken record player. you felt your face was wet with tears, your nose runny with snot. you felt your chest closing up as you buried your face in your knees. did you really just hear that? you slammed your fist against the door, a couple of people mumbling to each other about your bizarre behaviour but you didn't care.

"y/nie~" you heard riki's voice behind you. out of habit, you turned around, your face meeting with a smiling riki. great. he's pretending like he didn't do anything you thought to yourself. "what do you want?" you said coldly, not returning his smile as your gaze pierced his eyes. he tilted his head to the side, observing your face. "is there something wrong? oh my god, did you cry? your eyes are puffy and your eyes are red…" riki trailed off as his hand inched closer to your face before you quickly slapped it away. "you think there's something wrong? stop acting like you're clueless nishimura," you spat before walking away from him, bumping into his shoulder on the way.

since then, you ignored him. as soon as you saw him in the crowd of people in the hallway, you turned the other direction. riki kept trying to approach you, but you always seemed to disappear before he could reach you. he even visited your house, but you told your mother to tell him that you didn't feel well. eventually, he managed to catch you walking back home. "Y/N!" you recognised the voice and started running. the calls grew louder, as well as the footsteps trailing behind you. a hand grabbed your arm before forcing your body to face him. his soft brown eyes bore into yours, an unfamiliar emptiness obvious in his eyes. you tried to pull your arm away but his grip was firm.

"please y/n, tell me what's wrong. you've been like this all week and you're avoiding me." his hand loosened on your arm, desperation in his voice. his eyebags are more noticeable and he looks pale. for a second, you forgot why you were mad at him and felt sorry for him. "isn't it obvious? you're talking shit about me to your amazing new friends," you said coldly while taking his hand off your arm. "don't you understand how it feels when your own best friend backstabs you? do you think i'd avoid you like this for no reason? maybe you do think that. that's what you're telling your friends." before riki could talk, you ran away, ignoring his pleas for you to listen to him.

after a while, you finally convinced your parents to let you move schools. riki would finally be the least of your worries. although it was a rough start, you made friends at some point and your pain from him was healing steadily. you love your new friends but you can't help but feel they can only patch the missing piece of you. the riki part.

"y/n! y/n!" eunchae skipped happily towards you with grin on her face. you looked up from your book, pulling out one of your earplugs. "hey eun! how are y-" before you could finish your sentence, she put a finger on your mouth. "uh uh! I have some big news," she sat down in front of you, leaning on the backside of the chair. "there's a new transfer here! apparently he went to your old school and i've heard he's super hot," eunchae giggles, hitting you playfully. you smiled, wonder filling your mind. "huh? is that so? well i'll go see if he's really 'super hot' for myself," you chuckled before returning her a playful hit on her shoulder.

after your first class, you walked with eunchae, listening her ramble about school gossip. "and you believe what jihyun did to her after it was-" you looked at her, slightly confused at her sudden pause. her eyes widened at something in the crowd. you tried to see at what she was. maybe it was more of a who was she looking at. there stood a tall boy, his hair bleached with dark ends, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. your eyes were glued to a familiar bracelet, disbelief washing over your body. his eyes were locked onto you, shock obvious throughout his body. you opened your mouth, your words barely audible.

"r-riki?"

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fics #enhypen drabble #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #niki scenarios #enhypen niki #enha niki #niki drabbles #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki #niki oneshots

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cameronspecial · 10 months

Text

Thorn In Your Side, Rose In Your Hand (Part 1)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: None

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: Y/N and Mason may have always been in each others’ lives, but Rafe hasn’t. As the trio grew, so did the long history of Rafe being a nuisance to Y/N.

A/N: So this is definitely he fell first and brother’s best friends fic. I also want to make it a slow burn but I might get too excited and make them get togother sooner then I would want.

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron has always been a thorn in Y/N’s side and it doesn’t help that he is her twin brother’s best friend. That meant he was there for every birthday, family dinner and trip with his smug face and stupid teasing.

Y/N is peacefully relaxing on her pool chair in the backyard when her bliss is interrupted by the calling out of a voice, “Hey Y/L/N! What is this god-awful music you are listening to?” She looks up from the book she is reading but quickly decides to pay no attention to the nuisance that appeared in her backyard. “Did you hear me?” Rafe asks as he approaches the girl. Without so much as looking up from her book, Y/N says, “Mason isn’t home right now. Just go up to his room. You know where it is”. Y/N doesn’t hear anything after that so she assumes that Rafe went into the house; however, she is sadly mistaken.

Y/N Y/L/N has always been a rose in Rafe’s life and it doesn’t help that she is his best friend’s twin sister. That means he has to go through every birthday, family dinner and trip with the constant reminder that she is out of reach.

The fact that Y/N isn’t paying attention to Rafe greatly irritates him because it’s all he ever wants, so instead of going inside the house as she expected, he approaches the speaker and phone placed on the outdoor bar. He picks up the phone and pauses the music. This catches the girl’s attention as she quickly looks up from the page with an annoyed look on her face.

“Rafe, unpause the music,” she orders. Rafe, finally glad to have her attention, smirks and holds the phone over his head, “You want your phone back? Make me.” See Rafe knows about the type of books Y/N likes to read, so making one of them come to life for the girl seemed like the best way to get her attention and maybe start something with her.

This further annoys the girl as she understands what type of game the boy is trying to play. But unlucky for him, Y/N has amazing reflexes and a plan. She puts the book down and saunters over to the boy. Once she is in front of him, she gently reaches a hand out to take the hand not holding her phone into hers and gently starts tugging him towards the pool, but he doesn’t realize that. She gets him with his back facing the pool then stands on her tippy toes and slowly starts to inch her lips closer to his.

Rafe thinks he knows what is about to happen, so he closes his eyes and starts to lean down. However, he is extremely shocked when he feels a push on his chest and suddenly he is falling into the pool. With her quick reflexes, Y/N grabs her phone from his hand before it can hit the water. She is laughing her head off as she watches the boy swim back to the surface. His face is annoyed, but she can see the hint of pride behind his eyes.

Her laugh is interrupted by someone else making their presence known. “Dude, why are you in the pool with your clothes on?” Mason questions from the gate leading to the front of the house.

——

Y/N Y/L/N and Mason Y/L/N have always loved the water. Their parents swear the twins had water in their veins instead blood. Beach days were plenty, but seeing the look of pure joy on the five-year-olds’ faces filled the couple with love and made the long hot days worth it.

It was on one of those beach days that Rafe Cameron entered their lives. Y/N was closer to the shore as she had always just enjoyed the feeling of being in the water, so she was elated with pretending to jump over the waves. However, Mason loved the feeling of the water moving across his skin as he swam. He always felt so strong and fast whenever he could swim more laps faster than his younger sister. Rafe had spotted the boy swimming laps from the shore and immediately wanted to have a race.

“Do you wanna race?” Rafe asked as he waded his way toward Mason. “Dude, I’m definitely faster than you,” Mason challenged, “Let me get my sister to judge for us.” Mason had loved calling people dude after he heard a surfer in a movie say it. He wanted to be as cool as him. “Y/N/N! Come judge our race!” the twin yelled to his womb partner. Rafe looked towards who Mason was facing and he swore his tiny heart had skipped a beat. Should he call a doctor? No, because the laugh that reaches his ears must have cured whatever happened to his heart.

The first thing Rafe noticed was Y/N’s smile. He swore it lit up the beach more than the sun ever could. Her laugh was as sweet as his favourite candy and he found it very fun to watch as she jumped over the waves. He loved that she did not have a care in the world that she looked a little silly.

Y/N quickly stops her jumping marathon when she heard her brother call out for her and ran over as fast as she could. As the young girl approached, Rafe noticed the pink and red roses that peppered the purple bathing suit. “Hiya, I’m Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and I’m five years old. I have a twin brother and his name is Mason Byron Y/L/N,” Y/N greeted as she waves at the slightly shorter boy. Rafe thought her smile was even more dazzling up close. “Y/L/N, I like your last name. I think I’ll call you that. I’m Rafe,” he said nervously without thought. Y/N's lips dropped not even a millimetre because she was trying to hide her distaste for the nickname the boy gave her. There was nothing wrong with her last name, but she loved her first name. She thought it was unique and what made her different from the rest of her family. “Well, I think your name sounds funny. Can you guys just race already? Ready, set, go!” The young girl insisted as she watched the boys get into positions. The boys heard go and started swimming away from Y/N.

Although the name thing would seem to be something an adult could let go of easily, Y/N was five and she could hold a grudge like no other person even at that ripe age. She decided that as revenge, no matter who actually won, she would say her big brother won.

The race was neck and neck, but Rafe was clearly the winner. “Mason won,” Y/N declared as both boys looked at her with a glint of hope at being the winner of the race. The joy in Rafe’s face evaporated instantly and he got angry, “That’s not true.” “Yes, it is. I’m the judge and I said so,” the younger girl huffed. This caused Rafe to approach Y/N with an angry look in his eyes. Mason being the ever-protective brother acted quickly and pushed Rafe into the water. This caused Rafe to start crying and Mason to panic about getting in trouble. “I’m sorry but you shouldn’t have gotten close to Y/N/N like that,” Mason apologized profusely. “I’m sorry, Y/N and I’ll only accept your apology if you are my best friend,” Rafe concluded as he stood back. And they call little girls dramatic Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes at Rafe’s actions. “Okay,” Mason said happily as he hugged the boy. This upset Y/N as she felt she was losing her twin brother.

From that moment on, Rafe and Mason were best friends and Y/N vowed to never be friends with Rafe no matter what he tried to do. He just didn’t make a good first impression.

——

“I just don’t understand why you have to keep provoking her, dude. You know she isn’t your biggest fan,” Mason questions as he waits for Rafe outside of his bathroom door. Rafe pauses drying himself off for a moment as he tries to think of a response that doesn't sound pathetic, “You know it’s the only time that she actually pays any attention to me. She’s your sister and it would be nice if we actually got along.” Rafe continues to dry himself off and then changes into some of Mason’s clothes. “I don’t think antagonizing her is how you build bridges. That’s more like starting world war three. You know how long she can hold a grudge. Remember when you took her cookie that one time? She wouldn’t talk to you for a week,” Mason reminds Rafe.

——

The twins had just turned 8 and Y/N loved baking with her mom. She found measuring the ingredients fun and it amazed her how she can make something that tasted so delicious from random ingredients.

The twins were having a sleepover; Mason had invited Rafe, of course, and Y/N invited her best friend, Lacey. The children were in the kitchen enjoying the freshly-cooled cookies when Y/N felt nature calling. “I’m going to the bathroom,” the girl informed the others as she hopped off the island stool and went off to the bathroom.

Rafe had just finished his cookie and was in need of another. He reached for another cookie on the plate in front of the children, but when he spotted Y/N's half-eaten cookie sitting on her own plate, he couldn’t resist the idea of getting her attention. He took Y/N’s cookie and quickly shoved it into his mouth; surprising both Lacey and Mason. Before the other two could say anything, Y/N had returned from the bathroom.

“RAFE! You took my cookie!” She quickly accused when she saw her empty plate. With a full mouth, Rafe responded, “No.” This caused the girl to glare daggers at the boy and quickly turn her back away. “Well, I’m never going to talk to you again,” she promised as she stomped off with the expectation that her best friend would follow her, which Lacey did while also starting daggers at Rafe.

——

Rafe chuckles at the memory that Mason brought back.to mind. He had forgotten about that. “Yeah, but she got over that. I bet I can figure out a way we can become thick as thieves,” Rafe tells Mason. “Dude, even if you become friends with Y/N. It’s not like you can go any farther than that. I love you but I definitely don’t trust you with my sister’s heart. We both know how you are and we both remember the conversation I had with you when we were twelve,” Mason warns Rafe.

——

Rafe and Mason were outside practicing swimming laps in the pool. They were determined to be ready when varsity high school tryouts come around. “I need a drink of water, dude,” Mason tells Rafe as he got out of the pool and into the house. Rafe swam over to the shallow end so that he could stand up. He got curious about where Y/N was and looked towards her window. Y/N sat reading her book in her window book nook in her room. Of course, she was always reading. It was adorable watching her read because she would scrunch her nose at random times and it was so easy to read her expressions as her eyes glanced over the pages. He felt like he was reading the book with her. Rafe was so focused on trying to read the title on the cover of the page that he didn’t notice that Mason had returned from his water break.

“Will you stop staring at my sister like that, dude?” Mason grovelled as he swatted Rafe’s head quickly. “Like what?” Rafe groaned while he rubbed the back of his head where Mason’s hand hit. Mason rolled his eyes at his best friend’s obliviousness, “Like your heart is going to come out of your eyeballs like a cartoon character.” Rafe’s cheeks turned red at his friend's implication. “You know it’s not like that. She’s like a sister to me,” Rafe cringed internally at having to say that because it was far from the truth. “Good because I don’t want you guys breaking each others’ hearts. It would be a nightmare to be caught between siding with my sister and my best friend. Plus, we are too young to date anyways,” Mason said as he hopped back into the pool and both boys started their laps again.

——

Rafe finishes getting changed and exits the bathroom with a final shake of his head to dry off his hair. He places the used towel in Mason’s hand and walks toward the door that leads to the hallway. “Should we do a movie night tonight?” Rafe asks. Mason puts the towel into the hamper and follows the other boy into the hallway. “Yeah, we should ask Y/N/N though if she wants to watch with us. Lacey went to Paris for some cooking internship this month and I’m worried all she’s going to do while Lacey’s gone is read, chill by the pool and go to the beach. I saw her tbr for the month and I’m pretty sure there was like forty books on it,” Mason says as they head towards the movie room in the basement. “Haha, why does that not surprise me? Hold on let’s get everything ready first before we call her down,” Rafe says as he directs Mason towards the stairs when he sees Mason head towards Y/N’s room. Mason's confusion shows on his face but he follows Rafe downstairs, “Uhh, okay.”

Once downstairs, Rafe goes over to the popcorn machine and starts it up. “Go get the

sprite, KitKat and watermelon sour gummies from the kitchen, Mace,” Rafe instructs. Without so much as a complaint, Mason leaves the room and makes his way upstairs to get the snacks. The popcorn finishes popping and Rafe places it in the plastic containers that look like circus popcorn bags. He makes sure to layer the melted butter over the popcorn, so the butter gets to the popcorn on the bottom. He places the popcorn on the coffee table in the front. He walks over to pick up the purple fuzzy blanket and the big fluffy pillow in the basket in the corner of the room. After that, Rafe takes out his phone and hooks it up to the overhead projector. He quickly scrolls through Netflix until he finds Ready or Not.

Finally, Mason finds his way back into the basement with the instructed snacks and settles himself into the theatre chair after putting the snack on the table. “I’ll go get your sister,” Rafe quickly tells Mason as he makes his way upstairs to Y/N’s room.

He knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for a response before walking into the room. “Yo, Y/L/N. We are having a movie night and you are joining. No, choice,” Rafe orders, grabbing the book out of the girl’s hand. He makes sure to place the bookmark in between the pages before he places it on her book cart where he knows she likes to keep the book she is currently reading. “Hey! I was reading that. You know you can’t just come in here unannounced and interrupt my reading. I don’t wanna watch a movie,” Y/N criticizes as she tries to pick her book back up. Rafe ignores her complaints and just picks her up by the waist. He throws her over his shoulder and makes his way downstairs.

Rafe gently places Y/N in her favourite seat and swaddles her in the purple blanket. He gives her the popcorn and other snacks that the boys got ready. Once Rafe ensures everything is ready, he presses play on his phone and the movie begins. Y/N wasn’t shocked when she realizes what movie is playing. She lets herself smile softly hoping that it goes unnoticed by Rafe, but it doesn’t.

The snacks on the table are all her favourite kinds. The popcorn is made perfectly to her liking. The blanket and pillow are the softest and comfiest ones her family owns. And the movie, it is the perfect movie for her mood. Thrillers are for when she is in need to release some tension and annoyance because they are not too scary but always have the more satisfying type of violence. No matter how many times Rafe Cameron annoys Y/N, he will always know how to make it up to her in a way that could never make her truly hate him. It has been this way since the beginning of their relationship.

——

Five-year-old Rafe approached the twins sitting by their parents. Y/N and Mason were just finishing up their lunch when they saw that their new friend was coming closer to them. Rafe’s hand was behind his back and he softly sets himself beside Y/N so their knees were just barely touching.

He was comfortably settled, then he finally revealed what he was concealing for the girl. “Hi, Y/L/N. I’m sorry again for getting in your personal space. But I brought you a popsicle from my cooler. It’s watermelon flavoured,” Rafe shyly handed the popsicle over and he felt butterflies in his stomach when he saw the wide smile appear on Y/N’s face. “Thank you,” Y/N said quietly because she didn’t want to let her anger go, but she definitely wanted the popsicle. Rafe watched as the girl’s tiny hands struggled with opening the popsicle, so he gently took the popsicle out of her hands, opened it and then gave it back to her. He could’ve teased him, but he didn’t want to anger her further and plus he liked helping her.

——

It had been a week since Y/N had talked to Rafe and he had spent all weekend in the kitchen. He was surrounded by various batches of cookies; they all had various issues. One was too sweet, the other too salty, the next one was too hard. Y/N liked soft and balanced cookies. He watched anxiously as his nanny took the latest batch of cookies out of the oven. The cookies were cool when he took a bite out of one and realized they were perfect. “These are perfect for Y/L/N,” Rafe exclaimed. He quickly packaged the cookies in the basket decorated with roses and ran over to Y/N’s house.

He knew he wouldn’t need to knock on the door. It was the summer and there were only really two places that you could find Y/N during this season. Rafe made his way around the house to the pool to see Mr. Y/L/N at the grill cooking some burgers while he watched the twins in the pool. Mason immediately froze in the pool when he noticed his friend has arrived. “Dude! I didn’t know you were coming! Did you bring your swimsuit?” Mason screamed in excitement. Rafe shook his head and replied, “No, I just came to give Y/N something.” Y/N looked over at the mention of her name and immediately got herself out of the pool to see what Rafe brought. She looked into the basket and saw the cookies. One of the cookies was calling to her and she just had to take a bite out of it. The cookie melted in her mouth and she didn’t want to admit that these were even better than hers.

“I guess these are good. Thanks,” she admitted. Rafe beamed and nodded in delight. Mason heard what his sister said and it immediately caught his attention. He jumped out of the pool and ran to get himself a cookie. But before he could get his hand on one, Y/N put her hand out to stop him. “These are mine,” she quickly said while she picked up the basket and ran off into her room. Mason turned disgruntled to his best friend, “Why did I think that I could actually get a cookie? But at least she is talking to you.”

——

As Rafe watches the joy and comfort on Y/N’s face while they watch the movie, he realizes that he would always do anything he could to make Y/N feel safe, happy and calm. He might enjoy teasing her for attention but he never wants to make her truly miserable. He may not want to consciously admit it yet, but Y/N will always have the key to Rafe’s heart. He just wishes that she feels the same way about him.

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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pablitogavii · 10 months

Note

Can u do a gavi angst where him and reader finally make it official after months of him chasing after her but the next day the paparazzi find him getting cozy with a girl qnd its all over the media and she feels embarrassed but he doesnt think its a big deal so they get into a fight but make up in the end

I'm changing up this request a little bit since it kind of goes with the idea that came to mind recently!

Annoying

Pablo's POV

I went out with my guy friends tonight at some bar in the city since we wanted to catch up a bit before I have to go back to Barcelona for preseason.

I invited my girl to join us as well but when she heard it will only be the guys, she wanted to stay home and watch her romantic comedy instead.

I fell in love with her because she always trusted me and I always made sure to be respectful to her and our relationship whenever I went out alone. Knowing those paparazzi, they couldn't wait to stir up drama and sell their stupid magazines.

"What are you drinking Pablito??" Mario nudged me and I smirked ordering a beer as we joked around about anything that came to mind as I really missed being just a normal guy.

"Damn you look hotter than in those edits! Girls, it's Gavi!!" one of girls practically yelled on top of her lungs when she came to the bar to order her drink noticing me sitting there.

"I'm just trying to have a normal night with my friends if you don't mind.." I said politely although she was very much getting on my nerves now. Why can't I just have one night without any of this bullshit!?

"I'm sure you'll have a better night with me instead baby.." she winked and I couldn't believe she was flirting with me so openly in fornt of everyone when the whole world at this point knew I was in a relationship. Now, I was really annoyed!

"I have a girl waiting for me at home so how about you try somewhere else?" I said taking my beer and turning my back to her about to start chatting with my friends but she wasn't giving up now backed up by her friends.

"Oh come on Gavi! Just dance with her and make her dreams come true!" one of her friends tried pulling on my arm but I pulled away grabbing my jacket and walking outside of the club in annoyance.

"Hermano! Don't go! We can go to the different club??" Ale and Mario caught up with me but I apologized saying that I was in no mood anymore.

"It's the same everywhere I go..I just don't want to deal with it tonight. Maybe we can do a pool day in my house tomorrow instead??" I said before getting into my car and driving home.

Your POV

I was asleep when I heard someone walking into the bedroom slowly taking off his shoes and from the familiar scent of his perfume I knew it was Pablo.

I looked at the clock and it was barely midnight so he came back way early than planned. I turned in bed meeting his smiling face while he took his jeans off and joined me in bed laying on top of my chest while sighing heavily.

"Que pasaba amor??" you said and Pablo just nuzzled his face into your neck taking in your sweet scent and cuddling close just wanting to be held.

"They wouldn't leave me alone..I told them I have a girl at home and they still wouldn't leave! They are so annoying amor!" Pablo finally spoke and you felt yourself sad that his fun night was ruined yet again.

"I'm sorry cariño..but if taking a picture with them would help then I told you I'm alright with that" you said not wanting his commitment to you to feel pressuring on top of everything.

"They don't want a picture! They want to be caught with me and earn attention that way! They want media to say I'm a playboy who cheated on his girl and I'm not that! I'll never be that because I love you..I love you so much it hurts..I just wish they would leave me alone " Pablo spoke sounding very sad and melancholic and you knew this was serious to him.

"I love you too Pablito..and I know that's not who you are..I trust you cariño" you said reassuringly not wanting him to worry that you would ever believe anybody but him about your relationship.

"But..what if they make it convincing that I cheated..that I've betrayed you..and you leave me..I would never survive that" Pablo spoke and you knew that was his greatest fear something he already told you once before.

"Pablito..look at me please" you said and he did making your heart ache when you saw his tearful eyes that led you to lean down and kiss his lips softly.

"I know who you are Pablo Gavira..in here..and I know your love for me is true and that's why I trust you..completely..I promise amor..so don't be scared..because I'm not going anywhere..even when you go out alone..I'll be right here in your bed waiting for you..I promise" you spoke and he looked at you with hopeful eyes smiling at the last part while nodding his head.

"Girls are just so annoying.." he sighed pulling you even closer and when you chuckled he realized what he just said kissing your lips quickly.

"But not you..because you're my girl princesa" he corrected himself and you smiled nodding your head and kissing him a few more times before you both got comfortable and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Ik it's different but I hope you enjoy reading it <33

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablogavira #pablo gavira #gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi x vini #gavi x reader

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imtrashraccoon · 6 months

Text

Hello everyone!

Next Day

A month ago I saw a post by @scrambledmeggys (I hope you don't mind me tagging you!) for a month's worth of prompts for Self Shipping with UF! Papyrus. I originally wanted to try my hand at art but I am much better at writing imo, so here is what I've come up with so far!

I missed Day 1 so now I'm uploading that and Day 2 at the same time. I'm planning on continuing to write a continuous storyline with these prompts but I am pretty much making things up as I go lol.

Edit: I actually drew something for this chapter here if you want to check it out!

Day 1: First Meeting

You walked carefully through the snow, cringing slightly from the loud crunching sound it made, interrupting the otherwise quiet winter morning.

You were in a tough spot to say the least.

The fall had been an accident. One moment, your little friend was innocently kicking stones down the sink hole, and the next, they'd slipped and fell in. Of course, you'd tried your hardest to catch them but then you lost your balance and plunged in after them.

Against all odds, you'd both survived the fall. While your friend had thankfully only sustained a few small cuts, especially because you managed to shield them from the impact, you on the other hand had hit your head pretty hard. The bleeding had stopped by now but you still felt weak and rather lightheaded.

Still, you had to keep going. You had to find a way to get Frisk back to the surface. They were still a child, barely six, and had their whole life ahead of them afterall.

Speaking of, Frisk lightly tapped your shoulder and you paused so they could tell you what was on their mind. Shifting them from your back around your body until you were facing them, you flashed them a small smile.

"What happened?" you asked quietly.

Frisk's face reflexively screwed up. "You died again..." they signed slowly.

Your smile fell. "I'm sorry..." you murmured and let out a sigh.

You didn't understand how or why, but ever since falling down here, Frisk had seemingly developed an amazing power that allowed them to reset time to previous safe points. They didn't really know how to explain it but they claimed it was sort of like reloading a video game.

You didn't know how many times you'd apparently died so far, as Frisk hadn't been keeping track. You were instead focusing on doing your best to keep moving forward. Still, you were pretty concerned for them.

While you didn't remember any of your deaths up to this point, you knew Frisk did and while neither of you was discussing it, you knew this was something that would need to be dealt with. Once you got back to the surface, you would need to get therapy and figure out how to do the same for Frisk. They would definitely benefit from it at least.

Frisk patted your shoulder and you realized you'd zoned out. "It's alright, I'm getting used to it." They smiled but you knew it was a forced one.

"I promise I will keep you safe. No matter what happens, we will get through this together," you said.

Frisk nodded and their expression took on a more determined look.

You took a deep breath. "Let's do this again then," you muttered and started to shift Frisk back into a piggyback hold.

"Watch out for the skeleton up ahead," Frisk signed before wrapping their arms around your shoulders again.

You raised an eyebrow. Was that who'd killed you? Frisk hadn't elaborated further but you didn't blame them. You'd died a couple times to the traps in the Ruins and many times during your escape from Toriel. Many of those had apparently been pretty grisly if how shaken Frisk had been afterwards was any indication.

< ~ - . - ~ >

Someone was stalking you. While you were trying not to think about it, you were getting pretty anxious. Frisk hadn't said anything else so you just focused on continuing forwards.

Until you came to a narrow bridge with wooden bars across it that is. While you could still get through the gap between the bars with little effort, before you could do so, you heard footsteps approaching from behind you.

Frisk tightened their hold on your shoulders and you quickly turned around to put yourself between them and this new person.

It was a skeleton but not quite like what human skeletons looked like. He was only slightly taller than you were, but his bones seemed thicker and sturdier which gave him quite a bit of added bulk.

He was wearing a gray hoodie with a fur fringe, a red turtle neck sweater underneath, a pair of basketball shorts, and a pair of high tops. His smile was filled with sharp teeth, one of which was gold, and there was a pair of crimson pinpricks in his otherwise empty eye sockets that regarded you suspiciously.

"well, well, what have we here?" he drawled as his eyelights flickered over your body.

You narrowed your eyes in response, feeling a wave of disgust at the way he was eyeing you up. "My eyes are up here, thank you very much," you muttered through grit teeth.

The skeleton chuckled, "ah, my bad." He held out his right hand and added, "name's sans, sans the skeleton. and you are?"

Before you could actually shake his hand though, Frisk squeezed your shoulder. You assumed they were warning you not to, so you didn't.

"Rihanna," you said in response.

Sans raised a bonebrow when you left him hanging but seemed ultimately unbothered, which was a relief. "i'd say it's nice to meet ya, but that'd be a lie," he said and flashed a slightly menacing grin at you.

If you weren't holding Frisk, you would've crossed your arms, so instead you just gave him an unamused look.

Sans chuckled and started to walk around you, "ya know, i'm supposed to be on the look out for humans right now, but i don't really care about capturin' anyone."

You remained facing him as he walked until you'd essentially swapped places. You held Frisk a bit closer as well, just in case you'd have to run.

"now my brother, Papyrus, well, he's a human huntin' fanatic," Sans continued. He glanced through the wooden fence and added, "go on through, he made the bars too wide to stop anyone anyways." He turned and strode casually across the bridge as if to demonstrate.

You glanced at Frisk over your shoulder and they nodded. Well, at least he didn't seem like he wanted to immediately kill you like most monsters you'd met so far. So you followed him, although you maintained a safe distance just to be on the safe side.

Sans paused near a wooden booth up ahead and looked further down the path. As you walked over to him, he made a quiet "huh" sound. "ya know what, i think that's my brother comin' this way now..." There was a slightly amused tinge to the tone of his voice as he spoke which sent a wave of irritation through you.

You glanced over where he was looking and immediately spotted a tall skeleton wearing black armour with red accents approaching. Even from this distance, you could tell he was pissed and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Frisk squirmed in your grip to be let down and while you didn't want to let go of them, you relented and let go. They thankfully stayed behind you and clutched onto one of your pant legs.

You knelt down next to them and ruffled their fluffy hair a little. Flashing them a small smile, you whispered, "We doing this?"

Frisk got a familiar determined look and nodded. "I'll help you! I think we can talk him down if you say the right things."

You chuckled and stood up again, ready to face this new opponent. You could get through this, in fact, you would get through this...for Frisk's sake.

Papyrus certainly looked familiar and part of you wondered if he was actually the one who'd killed you last time. It would make sense, as he definitely looked more dangerous than Sans.

He was at least a foot taller than you were and looked quite a bit different from his brother. He still had sturdy bones but his frame was a lot more angular compared to Sans' more bulky look. He had sharp teeth as well, although his eyelights were a slightly different shade, maybe a scarlet? His left eye socket also had two long scars across it, presumably from a fight.

Besides his black chestplate, Papyrus also wore long red gloves, a red scarf that was more of a cape, and tall red boots with heels surprisingly. If you weren't battling to remain calm, you probably would've complimented his bold fashion sense. You didn't know of anyone else who could look so menacing and...hot at the same time.

"Sans! You Lazybones! You Have Not Reset Your Traps Yet Today! What If A Human Comes..." He paused mid rant when he took in your appearance.

Sans bristled and the corners of his smile fell slightly. He seemed like he was about to retort in kind but stopped himself.

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets at you as if he was scrutinizing your appearance. He slowly strode forward, stopping a few feet away from you. "Why Does It Feel Like I Have Met You Before, Human?" he asked in a chillingly quiet tone.

You stared up at him unblinkingly and crossed your arms. "I could ask the same actually..." you answered.

Papyrus glanced at Sans, who merely shrugged. "don't ask me, bro," he hissed.

Frisk tugged at your pant leg to get your attention. When you glanced down, they quickly signed what was on their mind. "Flirt with him."

You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting and drawing too much attention. Why would they suggest such a thing? Where had this child even picked up the concept of flirting? If this worked, you were going to have a serious discussion with them at some point.

"So, Papyrus," you started to say, catching his attention once again. "Do you have more bones than the average human or would you like to find out?" You mentally kicked yourself for that one but tried to maintain face and batted your eyelashes at him.

Papyrus stared at you for a solid five seconds before the meaning of your question seemed to set it. A dusting of scarlet flickered across his cheekbones and he stepped back from you, covering his mouth as he did so.

You smiled and stepped slightly closer to him. Feeling slightly bolder, you called upon everything you had learned from sucking up to college professors and your boss.

"If I may be so bold, I think you also look very cool. Like seriously, humans dress so boring in comparison." You made a bit of a show of looking him up and down, nodding approvingly. "I'm actually jealous of how cool you are."

Papyrus opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it. The scarlet blush wasn't disappearing no matter how hard he probably wished it would. He stammered and stepped back again.

"You... Your Flattery Will Not Save You, Human." He scoffed and turned on his heal. As he stormed off, you heard him mutter something along the lines of, "Not Being Able To Talk Your Way Out Of My Traps."

You couldn't believe that had worked. You scooped Frisk into your arms and hugged them tightly. "You have some explaining to do later, kiddo..." you muttered but Frisk only grinned at you, clearly proud of themselves.

"wow, i can't tell if you're insane or just lucky. either way, i'll be keepin' an eye socket on ya, human..." Sans said quietly.

You chuckled and flashed him a triumphant grin, which caused him to huff and walk away in the direction you had come from. You'd survived just a little bit longer it seemed.

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #reader #named oc #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #thwbd #the hand we've been dealt #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

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vinvantae · 2 years

Note

Hiii, could you do something like you did for reader being in come and all drivers coming to visit her but instead (little less sad) reader announces she’s retiring after like 10 years of racing and every driver comes to congratulate her and when Daniel comes they get emotional because they are actually in love even if they haven’t realized it yet. Thank you 💜

I’d love to, thank you so much for the suggestion!! Hope you enjoy ❤️

*******************************************************

As you crossed the line, the realisation hit you all at once - you’d just finished your final race in formula one after 10 years of being in the sport. You lifted the visor of your helmet to wipe away the tears that were threatening to fall as you did your final loop of the track to get back to the pits, waving at all of the fans who held your flag up high.

You loved this sport, more than anything, but you felt like you hadn’t really lived your life. You had just hit 30 and your bucket list was longer than a lap of Spa. Sure, you’d managed to cross off a few during summer breaks but you just wanted to be a normal adult for a while. Something you’d not really experienced joining the sport when you were only 20 years old. You’d been in 2 teams during your time, but Alpine was your last. You’d stepped out of your Ferrari seat when the car just didn’t seem to performing and decided to give Alpine, Renault at the time, a shot. It was a big change but you wouldn’t have chosen anywhere else.

As you climbed out of the car, you were greeted with the warm embrace of your teammate - his long limbs engulfing you with ease. Esteban was like a little brother to you and during your time together as a team you’d really performed and worked well. He always said he saw you as a mentor but you believed he was ready to tackle this new chapter of his career without you.

“It’s going to be so weird without you.” He admitted, pulling his helmet off. “And you’re leaving me with Pierre, of all people.”

“You’re a big boy now, Estie. I’m sure the two of you can be professional.” You teased. “Besides, it means Nyck can get a seat which is pretty cool.”

“That’s true. Speaking of, fantastic race today.” The Frenchman grinned. “You’re definitely my driver of the day.”

“Well it’s my last one, had to put on one final show.” You grinned, proud that you’d made it up to 6th from 14th after you had an issue with the car in Q2. “I need to try and catch everyone before I go.”

“We’re all coming out tonight to celebrate you and Seb, remember!”

You groaned. “You know neither of us wanted that.”

“Too bad. You’re coming out and you’re going to have a good time.”

And for the first time in a long time, you were glad you actually went. Getting to see all of your fellow drivers that you now considered friends, some even family, celebrating you and Sebastian made you feel so warm. The German in question was the first to greet you, a gentle smile on his face.

“All this for us?” He chuckled, offering you a glass of champagne.

“We must be pretty special.” You hummed, chiming your drink against his. “You won’t forget about me will you?”

“I think the kids would kill me if I did.” Seb laughed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Now, we better make the rounds, hmm?”

And you did just that, making your way around the room being greeted with hugs and smiles from your grid-mates - even those you didn’t consider close friends. You approached some of the boys stood at the bar, Pierre stepping over so you could squeeze in beside him.

“There she is!” He grinned, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Really can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“Hey, you should be happy, got you away from Redbull didn’t I?” You giggled softly, pinching his side gently. “Am gonna miss seeing you boys all the time though.”

“It’s going to be weird without you.” Charles hummed. “You’re such a big part of the paddock, and still so young.”

“Not all of us can be Fernando. I’d still like to experience life before my back gives out on me.” You explained. “30 is like… a nice age.”

“It’s just going to be so weird. No Seb. No Dan. No you…” the Monagasque frowned a little. “The three of you are… well you are Formula one.”

You felt so touched by Charles’ words, you weren’t sure he knew how much it meant to hear them so you simply pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

He rubbed your back and squeezed you just as tight, neither of you wanting to let go first. You moving to Renault had opened up the seat for him to move to Ferrari- you and Seb had both been there to support him during his time with Sauber, knowing he’d be taking one of your seats some day.

“We’ll still hang out right?”

“Why is everyone acting like I’ll disappear? You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You teased, pulling away from him.

“Will you still come watch us race?” Pierre asked.

You smiled. “Duh. I still love F1, just wanna do something else now.”

“Well we thought you’d be out exploring the world, finding the man of your dreams.” Alex interjected.

Your cheeks flushed a little. “We’ll just have to wait and see won’t we.”

Despite being a bit of a household name, you’d never managed to find someone right for you. Guys were intimated by your career and those who weren’t were obsessive fan boys. As time went on, your love life fell onto the back burner - but you didn’t mind, you loved your job and your friends.

“There’s a couple more people I want to talk to, you boys behave yourselves okay?” You gave them all one more hug before continuing your lap of the room.

Your eyes quickly settled on Lewis, of course they did, the Brit’s presence demanded attention. His aura was unmatched by anyone else’s and as you approached him, you were greeted with a charming smile.

“Hello, lovely.” His voice was soft. “Pretty big turn out.”

“Might be a little much for me.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “Glad to see you’re here though.”

Lewis gave you a gentle hug. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, you and Seb are family at this point. It’s going to be hard not having you both around.”

“Just time for me to spread my proverbial wings I suppose.”

“It’ll be good for you. Selfishly, I’d like to keep you around a little longer but I know you need this. You’ve had a hell of a career.”

Your cheeks flushed softly and he chuckled softly - you really had and it was one of the things you were proudest of. You only had one championship under your belt but you’d worked so hard to even get into this career that it felt good. You had podiums to boot and you wouldn’t change a single thing you’d done in your time.

“Hey, you’re wanted.” He said, pointing behind you where Mick was waving his hands wildly in the air to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way over to the young German who immediately wrapped you up in a friendly hug. “Hi Micky, shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”

“Oh shut up.” He laughed. “You and Seb are my favourites, not letting you both go without celebrating am I?”

“I’ll let you off this time.”

“You managed to say your piece to everyone yet?”

Your eyes scanned the room, shrugging a little. “Not quite.”

“…Daniel?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “I’m… I’m not ready to say goodbye to him.”

“You’ll see him again, y/n.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Just see a couple more people to ease yourself and then pull him to one side. This isn’t going to be the last of you two, you’ve been in his life for ten years.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Micky.”

After one more hug, you moved away from the Haas driver and made your way over to Carlos - tapping him lightly on the shoulder. His face lit up when he saw you.

“There she is!” He beamed. “Was starting to think you’d made a run for it.”

“Aye, Carlos, not without saying a proper goodbye to you first. Who do you take me for?” You gasped softly, placing a hand over your heart. “Hurt, Carlos, hurt.”

The Spaniard rolled his eyes playfully. “Hermosa, know what I meant… you enjoying yourself? I know this is not really your thing.”

You shrugged. “It’s nice to see everyone having fun, no stress on their shoulders. I don’t mind as long as everyone else is happy.”

You felt a hand on your shoulder before you heard a British voice from behind you. “But are you having fun, hmm?”

“Hi, Georgie. I am, I’m surrounded by some of my best friends…” You smiled softly, letting him pull you into a one armed hug. “You’ll take care of all of the other kids won’t you?”

“Of course. Don’t think they’d listen to me like they’d listen to you though.” George’s voice was fond, his blue eyes bright even under the dim lights of the bar. “And, I have to admit, I had an ulterior motive for coming over here?”

You raised a brow and followed George’s finger as he pointed over to the corner of the bar, your heart skipping a beat when Dan raised his beer to you. “I.. yeah I’ll go over now.”

You threw back the rest of your champagne and grabbed another before joining Daniel on the curved booth at the back of the bar.

“Not like you to be by yourself mister social-butterfly.” You teased.

He smiled gently, cradling his beer in his hands. “Was kind of hoping to get you alone…”

The flush of your cheeks was inevitable so you lowered your head a little, not being able to cope with the intensity of his eyes boring into yours.

“Listen, y/n… I… fuck…” Dan chuckled nervously. “I’m mad it took me you literally leaving the sport to realise it but I’m… I’m fucking in love with you, y/l/n.”

“I… you are?”

A small embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he rubbed the back of his neck, nodding a little.

“Sorry to ambush you, I just-“

“No, I uh… I’m just shocked you feel the same way.”

His eyes flickered across your face as he processed what you said before he cautiously lent in, a cold hand coming up to cup your jaw as his lips met yours. It was a kiss nearly 10 years in the making and you found yourself feeling weak at the knees and your heart raced a million miles an hour.

“I love you too, by the way… if that wasn’t clear.” You whispered, as he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours. “And if you thought for one second that me leaving the grid meant I wasn’t going to bother you every single day, you were wrong.”

His face split into a massive grin. “…so, we’re both unemployed next year.”

“True.”

“Fancy taking a trip? Just me and you.” He asked, his fingers laced with yours.

“…I’d like that.”

The next time you returned to the grid was Australia 2023, sure, neither of you were driving anymore but as you stepped into the paddock hand-in-hand, you were definitely the stars of the weekend.

****************************************************

Hope you enjoyed x

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @marianadj99 @tall-tanned-tattoo @wonderlandofsu @lightsoutpierre @monodreme @theplobnrgone @feminismisaflawlessbitch @eitak-t @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @readerselegance @sad-fridge2323 @haterpenny @jamieolivia27 @cringe-kats @skyslowalking @samsationalwilson @dr3lover @fic-for-readers @oneoftwoghosts @care2703 @a-distantdreamer @bigdiccricc @altheahuf @coldmuffinbanditshoe @deviltsunoda @storyteller-le @imnotcryingyouare1 @take-me-around-town @hannahholland1811 @the-scarletbitch @d0ntjudgemy50shades @glitterquadricorn @adiaz-25 @itsmycorneroftheinternet

#daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #ricciardo x reader #f1 #formula one #x reader

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izzyspussy · 3 months

Note

ooh post a snippet/talk about season one royjamie?

“Keeley broke up with me,” Tartt tells Roy in lieu of a greeting. He’s lingering at the booths by the back-end bar, waiting for the queue outside to thin out enough he won’t actually have to say goodbye to anyone and maybe if he’s lucky all the photographers will have fucked off already by the time he gets outside. So this is the opposite of what he wanted in basically every way.

“Good for her,” he says into the neck of his beer. Far from offended, Tartt just snorts.

“Don’t wanna go home alone,” he says, pointedly, and when Roy cuts a glance over to him the fucking twat actually wiggles his fucking eyebrows.

“Did you not just hear me say I don’t want to be mixed in your shit,” Roy asks flatly. Once again unconcerned, Tartt shrugs.

“‘Cause it made you feel like an idiot in front of everyone, you said,” he repeats easily. So he does pay attention, then, he just chooses not to listen to anyone. “No audience at your place.”

Roy grunts, but somehow Tartt smells blood in the fucking water. He floats in closer; Roy hears the fucking JAWS theme in his head. His heart picks up to the tempo.

“C'mon,” Tartt cajoles, his voice going low and smooth. “I know you’ve thought about it.” He doesn’t touch Roy. Underneath his fucking bare chest and his bright red pocket square and his dangly earring he must have a hidden sense of fucking discretion. Instead, he puts two fingers on the table at Roy’s hip. Somehow the message is clear that if they were somewhere else, those fingers would be trailing their way up Roy’s chest instead. Some-fucking-how, the result in Roy is the same.

“So fucking arrogant,” Roy mutters. But Tartt’s tactics are effective, and Roy couldn’t deny the truth without making a fool of himself. “I don’t do hate sex,” he says instead. The toothy grin that stretches over Tartt’s face fits the apparent fucking theme of this moment perfectly.

“Have some put-me-in-my-place sex then,” he offers. He air kisses when he catches Roy’s eyes on his mouth. It makes Roy want to shove his face into the ground. “Teach-me-a-lesson sex. Hm?”

Roy grunts again, but he’s setting down his beer and digging out his keys as he does it, and telling himself that this isn’t a loss on his part because he’s going to win behind closed doors. “Like you’ll ever fucking learn anything.”

#jack chats #jack facts #my fic #writing process #ted lasso #royjamie

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drabbles-mc · 11 months

Text

Stomping Grounds

Mike Duarte x F!Reader

Summary: Months after everything between you and Mike crumbled in the worst of ways, the two of you are put face-to-face all over again.

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, light angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: What can I say??? I catch up on SVU and immediately decide that canon has no place here 😂 This is my first SVU fic, and by extension my first Duarte fic. I already want to write more for him lmao but one thing at a time

SVU Taglist (currently just tagging other people I've seen write or enjoy SVU things lol): @the-hinky-panda @bullet-prooflove @nessamc @proceduralpassion (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It had been a long time since you were in the right part of the Bronx to run into Duarte. It’d been purposeful avoidance at first, but then it just became your new routine. The reasons for the switch started to fade from memory the farther your life moved on.

But then it all came rushing back the second you walked into the bar and saw Duarte there with Muncy and the rest of his team. There was no hiding from him, not when he was always clocking every single person who walked in or out of every room he was in. Clearly that was one thing that hadn’t changed. The first scan you took around the bar you found him already looking at you. You almost didn’t believe it until you heard Muncy's laugh. There was no way you were just imagining both of them.

If someone else hadn’t been walking in behind you, you would’ve frozen up right where you stood. You fumbled your way farther inside, too deep to just turn around and walk back out without it feeling strange, without it feeling like a missed opportunity.

You were about to go to the bar, get a drink to try and steel your nerves a bit before throwing yourself into the thick of things. You were a few steps away from being able to order when you heard Muncy call out to you. Being addressed by your last name felt so foreign now.

“We just ordered another round,” she said when you walked over. She greeted you with a grin and an awkward hug as she sat in her chair at the table they were all gathered around. “You can have Duarte's,” she said it like a joke, but you knew that when the drinks got brought over she would be handing one to you.

Judging by the look on Duarte's face, he wasn’t going to fight it, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it either. That seemed to be his MO with your after all.

“Was starting to think you left the Bronx altogether,” Duarte said, letting that be his greeting instead of extending you a real one.

To an outsider looking in, it would’ve seemed harsh. But it was Duarte, and pleasantries were never his strong suit. You considered the acknowledgement a win in and of itself, because you knew that if Muncy hadn’t called you over, Duarte definitely wouldn’t have. You couldn’t really blame him considering how everything played out. It wasn’t anything malicious, even if it had felt that way to him. The two of you were just the victims of the worst timing in the world.

You tried not to think about it as you caught up with everyone. They told you about everything that had been going on, the details they could spare at least. You gave them the broad strokes of what you’d been up to since you saw them. It was hard to separate it out, what you were telling them from the reasons Duarte’s jaw was clenched so tightly the bone of it was about to break.

You didn’t know if you should call it a shame or a blessing. Maybe it could be both. Regardless, you knew that it was unfortunate timing. After months of trying to figure out your place in Duarte's unit, you finally figured out that you weren’t meant to be in it at all. In fact, you figured out that the badge wasn’t for you in general.

That would’ve been unfortunate enough, but those realizations just so happened to hit you the day after Duarte had spent the night at your place. The first and last time.

It had nothing to do with him, with what happened between you. And you tried to tell him that. He didn’t hear it, though, didn’t see it in your eyes how much you meant it—all he saw was you turning in your shield.

The conversation flowed around the two of you. Duarte staying quiet wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, but you felt the weight of it, the way that it was different this time. Apparently you were the only one, because everyone else was talking circles around him, throwing comments and jokes his way that he didn’t respond to. Despite the gray cloud looming over Duarte's head, you were having a good time catching up with everyone else. You’d always meant to keep in touch, but at first it was painful, and then you all were just busy.

Eventually, that same busyness slowly started pulling everyone away from the table. You could’ve gone too, before it was just you and Mike left. You saw it going that way, and as much as part of you wanted to avoid it, another part of you wanted to see what would happen, if anything would happen.

“I guess I owe you a round,” you said when it was just the two of you left, the first thing that you’d said directly to him all night, “since Muncy gave me one of yours.”

You half expected him to reject it, to get up and leave. Instead, he quirked his eyebrow and gave a small nod. “I guess you do.”

When you returned with your drink and his, you asked, “So how've you been? You’re the only one who didn’t give me a run-down.”

He watched you take a sip of your drink. “You know how I’ve been.”

You laughed. “Do I?” You shook your head. “You never answered any of my texts. At one point I was pretty sure you blocked my number.”

“I didn’t.” He took a long sip of his drink. “Thought about it, though.”

You sighed, toying with the glass in your hands. “I meant what I said, you know. It really was just—”

“Do you like it?” he cut you off. “Your new job, do you actually like it?”

“What, you think I’m lying just to save face?” You chuckled at the look he was giving you. “I like it a lot. And for what it’s worth, it’s not a new job anymore.”

He shook his head. “It’ll always be your new job.”

Hearing the sarcasm without the anger was reassuring. For a second things almost felt like they used to be. You missed him, truly. For as gruff and insufferable as he made himself sometimes, you really had missed him.

“So,” he sighed as he leaned back in his seat, “finally decided it was safe to cross back into my territory?”

You let out a small, slightly uncomfortable laugh. Of course he knew you had been avoiding him. He’d been doing the same thing, to be fair, which was why all of your texts went unanswered.

“Actually, no,” you admitted with a sad laugh. “I just had kind of a shit day, and this was where I ended up.”

“Shit day got shittier.”

You gave a small smile as you shook your head. “Not that much shittier.”

“Work?”

You nodded. “Yea. Stakes are different, obviously. Shitty day now doesn’t mean the same thing as it used to.”

“Those kids…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

The laugh you let out was a little more genuine. “I love ‘em. They test me, but I love ‘em.”

“How many of them are gonna end up on my radar in a few years?” he asked, always the brutal cynic.

You shrugged, trying not to let it faze you. “Hopefully fewer now that I’m there.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he could see it on your face that you were where you belonged now. He wanted it to be with him, on his team, but it wasn’t. The tone of your voice, the look in your eyes, you never had any of that when you talked about your work with the gang unit. And he wanted to be happy for you, but he was still stubborn and selfish and admitting things to himself wasn’t the same as admitting them out loud to you.

“You like your boss?” he asked.

All his years of police work and yet he still couldn’t sell that sentence to you in a way that would stop you from seeing through it.

You smiled, nodding. “Yea, he’s, you know, he’s a good guy.”

He saw the look on your face and tilted his head back just slightly, just enough so that you knew he was trying to piece apart what your expression meant. “What?”

You had to laugh. “Nothing, nothing. He’s just, you know, he’s nice.”

“Hm,” Duarte drummed his fingers on the outside of his glass, “I was never good at that.”

You chuckled, not disagreeing with him necessarily. “He’s nice because he can be. You…it’s hard. It’s hard to do what you do and still be nice.”

“Good thing you got out then.” With his tone and attitude it was hard to tell if he was being snide or genuinely grateful.

“Yea…” your voice trailed off as you tried to figure out what you were trying to say to him. “I miss it sometimes. Not,” you chuckled quietly, “not all of it. But I miss parts of it.” You paused. “I even miss you sometimes, too,” you joked.

“Only sometimes?” he quipped right back.

You laughed. “Maybe if you were nicer I’d miss you all the time.” You were joking, of course, because of course you missed him all the time. And you could tell by the look on his face that he knew that too. Clearing your throat, you asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing off your drink before you asked, “You ever miss me sometimes?”

His expression was serious for all of a moment before he recovered, putting the same façade on that he always had. “Sometimes.”

It wasn’t much longer before the both of you squared up your lingering tabs. Neither of you said anything while you were still in the bar about how you were getting home. You knew that Duarte wasn’t going to drive, and you didn’t even have the option if you’d wanted to. You didn’t want to walk home alone, not with everything that had been going on in the city lately, but you also had no desire to get a taxi either.

Going against all the little voices in your head that were telling you not to ask, when the two of you stepped out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, you said, “Think you could walk me home, Captain? For old time’s sake?”

He hesitated, looking at you. You could tell from his expression that he was trying to figure out if there was a play here that he wasn’t seeing. He must’ve decided it was safe enough, because he nodded and started walking in the direction of your apartment.

It was a nearly-silent walk back. You wished you knew what the right thing to say to him was. You felt like you had said everything you’d wanted to say to him when it ended, but he never said anything in return. He still hadn’t ever said how he felt about any of it. Actions speak louder than words, sure, but you still wanted to hear something from him. After everything, it felt like you deserved at least that much.

“It’s been shitty, you know,” the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them, “not hearing from you at all.”

“You looking for an apology?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You knew better than that. “But I just…you never said anything after I left. Like, at all.”

“If I had said something, would it have made a difference?” he asked, glancing over at you as you waited for the crosswalk sign to change. “Would you have stayed?”

You took a deep breath as you both walked across the street. “Would I have stayed on the force? No.” The two of you reached your building and you didn’t extend an invite for him to come up, hoping that continuing to talk to him as you walked through the main door of your building would do the work of that for you. “But just because I left the force, it didn’t mean, you know,” you hesitated as you started walking up the stairs, “it didn’t mean that I was leaving you.”

He scoffed quietly as he followed you. “In the same twenty-four hours that we—”

“I know my timing was bad,” you cut him off, already knowing what his argument was going to be, “but never once did I actually say that I didn’t want to be with you.”

“How else did you want me to take it, then?”

“I was done with the job!” you said, exasperated. “It wasn’t, it wasn’t right for me. There’s no way that you didn’t see that.” You glanced over at him as you said it and you saw the resignation on his face. “Exactly.”

“You could’ve been a good cop if you wanted to be.”

“But I didn’t want to be.” There was a long pause as the two of you walked down the hallway and came to a stop outside your door. “I hated that you just cut me off.”

“I hated that you quit,” he snipped back.

You chuckled softly as you took your keys out of your bag. “Touché.”

“I thought I was part of the reason that you left,” he admitted as he watched you slip the key into the lock on your door.

“I told you that you weren’t,” you replied. “If you’d read any of my texts, or listened to any of the voicemails I left—”

“I didn’t believe you.”

You looked over at him. “Because I’ve always made such a habit of lying to you?”

It was the most that the two of you had ever talked about any of it, and yet he cracked a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it back to him. The two of you were standing in your doorway, both of you knowing that you were lingering longer than necessary, longer than you should’ve. You’d pushed your door open halfway, your hand still on the knob. You watched as his eyes flicked down to your hand before going back up to your face.

“I should go.”

“Do you want to come in?” You both spoke at the same time, resulting both of you to chuckle awkwardly, trying to figure out which one of you was going to follow through on what you’d said.

Duarte cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t.”

“Didn’t stop you before,” you said, more hopeful than you should’ve been.

“And look how that turned out.”

You let go of the door and stepped in closer to him, close enough so that you were chest-to-chest. “Nothing happens the same way twice.”

His shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath that he took. He looked at you, and you could feel the indecision radiating off of him. You knew that there was nothing you could really say that would sway him one way or the other—he was always going to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

When he didn’t say anything for a few more seconds, you took it as your answer. You took it as one more loss. Taking a deep breath, you said, “Goodnight, Mike,” and pressed your lips to his cheek, over the stubble that he never stayed on top of shaving.

You went to step into your apartment, shut the door on all of this one more time. Before you stepped too far, he pulled you back to him and right into a kiss. His hands came up to cup either side of your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his lips moved against yours. All the hesitancy, the manufactured distance he’d put between you, all of it was gone as you melted against him.

When he pulled away, he still held onto your face. He was close enough that you could still feel his breath against your skin, smell the alcohol that still lingered on it. You pushed forward just enough so that your lips brushed against his again.

“Just tonight,” he said, his voice low and rough. It almost sounded like he meant it.

You let him have it, if that’s what it took for you to have him. “Yea,” you agreed, stepping through the door and pulling him with you, “just tonight.”

#law and order #law and order svu #svu #svu fanfiction #law and order fanfiction #mike duarte #captain mike duarte #mike duarte fanfiction #mike duarte x reader #mike duarte x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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crows-of-buckets · 10 months

Text

I have a theory about Neuvillette

Okay this screenshot doesn't show it very well, but in this scene as Neuvillette is walking down the hall the light catches on his face in a way that reflects prison bars

And when Clorinde walks past here, practically following directly in Neuvillette's footsteps, the light doesn't shine on her in the same way. Instead she stays cast in darkness.

So I have a theory that, for some reason, Neuvillette may end up imprisoned? Sure it may just be a coincidence, but hoyoverse rarely does coincidence tbh.

Besides, there's also this:

When Focalors is complaining about wanting to see a real twist, she holds up a burning picture which directly frames Neuvillette. This could imply that he was possibly framed for something?

I'm also wondering if the light in the hallways represents learning of something, as he goes from shadow to light. Perhaps he unearths something that Focalors doesn't want unearthed, which could be what lands him in jail.

Idk Neuvillette is really suspicious to me. I'm also wondering if he's possibly connected to khaenriah. Like for example

If you zoom in on his eyes here, his pupils look very sharp, almost cat like. They aren't exactly a khaenrian star, but he may only be part khaenrian

Here's kaeyas eye, where his star is much fainter than other khaenrians we've seen, implying kaeya MAY be part khaenrian instead of a full khaenrian

This is Neuvillette's eye (sorry it's so small I couldn't get it any bigger) I sharpened it a bit and it looks very similar to Kaeya's eye. The star isn't nearly as prominent as kaeyas, but it's still kinda similar

Also, Neuvillette's silhouette looks oddly similar to an abyss herald? This one is a bit of a stretch I won't lie, but I saw someone else point it out and it would make so much sense for him to be inspired by abyss heralds design, since kaeya, the only playable khaenrian character as of right now, shares similarities in his design with abyss mages.

Idk, I'm almost certain that Fontaine is going to have ties to Khaenriah, especially with how many times sinners and sin was mentioned in the preview. Along with all the khaenriah teasing we got in sumeru, id be really surprised if Fontaine didn't have anything to do with Khaenriah.

There's ALSO the fact that people speculate that Celestia is directly overhead of Fontaine. Fontaine and Khaenriah seem to be pretty similar in some ways, as they're both countries that push mechanical innovation (based on the machines we saw at the end of the 3.8 Livestream as well as the way other characters have referred to fontaine in the past- think Mikage Furnace). From what's generally told, Khaenriah was destroyed because of its danger as a technologically advanced society (I think that's bullshit and have my own theories as well), so it would make sense for Celestia to keep an eye on Fontaine. And idk having the head judge be part khaenrian would definitely push the similarities between the two nations.

Idk I'm very excited about Fontaine it looks so good :3. Arlecchino, Writhosley and Clorinde are all so cool and I want to try to get all of them. I also kinda want Neuvillette but it depends tbh rn I'm really wanting those three.

#Genshin Impact #neuvillette #focalors #Khaenriah #Fontaine #Fontaine teaser

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ohtobemare · 1 year

Note

Happy 100, Meer!!! 🥳🎉🎊

Could you do '86 Tom Kazansky with tgis prompt:

8. “Are you sure you want me to kiss you? No takebacks.”

Alrighty, this one was a bit tough and I took it a little bit of a different direction---hopefully you like it, because I do!

Uncertain Little Games

It’s a little after two in the morning when you get the call from some random no-name bar outside of Fightertown, a disgruntled and on-the-edge-of-livid bartender gruffing into the phone that somebody needed to come and pick up the man called Tom Kazansky—he was bleeding all over his freshly-waxed floor and causing more trouble than he was worth.

“Found your number in his wallet, sweetheart—come and get him or the cops will.”

Largely unimpressed with the man’s attempt to sound demanding, you’d sighed and slumped forward in bed, hand scrubbing your face as you turned to consider the colder side of the King mattress where you’d been attempting to catch REM. Rubbing the palm of your hand against your hair, a tired headache was already aching against your temple.

Gut sinking with disdain over the very idea before it prickled with hot anger, you snapped the covers off your legs and swung out of bed, grumbling into the phone that you were on your way, halfheartedly listening to the man’s directions.

Managing into some jeans and sneakers, you attempted to fix the scrunchie keeping your sleeping knot high on your head. Scrunching your nose disfavorably at your disheveled appearance in the mirror, it would have to do—you’d gone to bed late. Or early, depending on who you asked. Waiting for Tom to come home after the argument. You see red for a minute, before your jaw clamps within an inch of fracturing, and for a second you swear you can taste blood from where you are biting your tongue.

Instead of coming home, Tom had obviously gone out of his way to some god-forsaken bar outside of Miramar, and you weren’t sure if the cocktail of worry and anger in your gut was going to make you throw up or not. You probably wouldn’t until you saw him.

You’d finally managed some sleep for what felt like seconds before the blare of the telephone bolted you upright. Resigned to Tom Kazansky sleeping off the heat of your fight somewhere else, you’d crawled back into bed after washing the smudged mascara from your face, the telltale blotch of hot color only sobbing could manage written across your face.

You hadn’t wanted to fight. Not really. It had just sort of happened. The entire night had just sort of happened, much to your regret, and terms and conditions hadn’t improved when you’d stumbled in through the front door, feet sore from your heels, far too hot under the collar to even hear Iceman trying to reason with you.

“Sweetheart, if you could just cool your jets and listen to me—” his words had broken apart under a grunt as he’d dodged the stilettos you’d chucked across the island counter. Reasonable effort had been required not to snatch one of the pans from the hanging rack of the island and take a swing at his head.

The words still rang through this kitchen like an annoying bell. Then, hours ago, those words had prompted hot tears to form in your eyes, blurring his face entirely from your vision as he’d wretched your arm out of his hand, storming through the house wanting to be left alone. Your earrings were somewhere in the hallway where you’d whipped them with your clutch purse, anything becoming a weapon to keep him from touching you.

“Baby, please, listen to me—”

“No, Tom! I’m done listening! You’re grounded, understand? Privileges fucking revoked. Get out of here before I say something I really will regret!"

Heart up in the back of your throat, inches from vomiting and walking a tightwire of raw emotions, he’d followed you up the stairs at distance, like he was trying to read the air between you.

Screaming that you wanted him to leave, that you were hurt; weren’t sure how you could ever forgive him for this.

When you’d slammed this very bedroom door in his face, your heart had hit your knees, like it had bounced through your bones and shattered on the very floor at your swollen, sore feet. Ice had tried reasoning through the door, he really had—but you’d just drowned him out with AC/DC, though you hadn't heard a word of Thunderstruck through your hysterical ugly cry session.

Splayed out across the king like a sad starfish, you’d sobbed mascara into the duvet. Not enough to muster the energy to strip the bed, but enough to notice. Bawling until your head was pounding and your chest ached from the effort, you’d mustered enough energy to down a glass or two of rosé, eat half a line of Oreos, and sit under a scolding shower until it turned cold.

It was all the damn blonde from the bar’s fault. You’d noticed her immediately when Tom had stepped over the threshold at the club–she was hard to miss in that pink metallic mini dress and heels, hair teased to the heavens. Guys were fawning all over her, perched at the bar, but she’d set her eyes on Iceman, the Navy’s best and brightest of the class vying for top marks.

Of course she had. Tom was a god who had stepped down from the sun, most days. A body that didn’t stop, blonde hair nearly platinum from California sun, eyes cool and bright enough to rival the sparkling waters of any of the world’s oceans, he was heartstopping. Every time he looked at you, your soul threatening to leave your body—suddenly air became too rich, too clear, while also being nonexistent all at the same damn time.

Ice was “Breathtaking and ground shaking,” as you’d told your best friend the night he’d dropped you off on your first date. He’d taken you to the pier after a fine sit-down dinner and getting-to-know-you conversations. Arriving just before sunset, with colors just beginning to spin in the tapestry of the clouds, you’d asked him what he loved about the pier.

“Nothing, really, except sunset is always better over the open water,” he’d said it so nonchalantly that you’d blinked, having to actually remember that Ice spent a majority of his working hours in the actual sky and probably had seen his share of breathtaking sundowns. “Prettier in the air, though. Nothing quite like watching the sky change color while you’re there, touching clouds.”

“I can’t imagine,” he’d offered you his hand and you’d slipped yours into his, loving the way his larger one warmed yours despite it being a balmy and humid 80-something degrees.

After a few heartbeats of silence bleeding between you, he’d stopped and guided you out in front of him. The ocean and stunningly beautiful sky behind you, you’d watched Tom knock his aviators a notch down the bridge of his nose, content to say nothing and just stand there looking at you. Finally, the little tick in the corner of his mouth made you grin stupidly, giving him a slightly sideways look of uncertainty.

“What’s up with you? You’re acting weird, Ice,”

“Just checking,” he’d pulled you a little closer, until you had a clear breath of his cologne beneath your nose, “I’m going to tell you something, but you’re not allowed to hit me.”

“Hmmm…sketchy, Kazansky. But I’ll bite,”

He’d just chuckled as his smile grew, “I think you just might be prettier than any damn sunset I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. And I’ve seen my fair share of them.” Agog in his face, Iceman had looked genuinely amused with your reaction before slipping his sunglasses up on his head, tracking you with crystalline eyes, “I also think I may have to kiss you, if you’ll let me.”

Swallowing a breath, “And why wouldn’t I let you?”

“You sure you want me to kiss you? No takebacks,” He’d tried to sound serious in that Iceman Kazansky way of his, all cock and bravado and charm, but the analogy had just made you giggle. “You just let me know when I should take the shot, sweetheart.”

“Well then why don’t you just hurry up then, Iceman?”

He’d kissed you, long and hard and slow, until your toes had curled as far as they dared in the heels you’d worn with that dress he still asked you to wear. They always talked about your breath ramrodding in your chest, your heart skipping a beat when you kissed the person you were meant to kiss for the rest of your life—and, despite your best efforts not to believe it, whoever they were had been right.

There, on the pier, pressed back against the railing and Ice all over you, you’d come to the conclusion that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the history of ever that you could imagine sharing moments like this with.

Signed, sealed, delivered, Ice was the man for you.

You’d known it from the second date, and upon stumbling into the dark of your then-shared-apartment to see your friend watching Leno, you’d dropped onto the couch, nearly a hot pile of goo, and told her that Tom Kazansky had stolen your breath and taken you for a ride you would never want off of.

Six months later, he’d asked you to marry him—on the same damn pier, with the same damn sunglasses, using that same damn pickup line that had worked the first time. He’d hardly dropped to a knee before you were jumping up and down, pulling him to his feet, kissing him and climbing him like a damn tree telling him you’d never, under any circumstances or in any universe, not want his last name. Even if it went horribly with your first name and would be a hellish nightmare to sign.

You had Tom Kazansky, zeroed in and target locked, as he said. Though, little miss pink-metallic-dress Barbie had seemed to conveniently overlook the fact that Ice had arrived with you. She must’ve been blind not seeing the ring—there was no other explanation. He wore it proudly, and had even moved his Academy ring to his left hand to rest snug beside it. It couldn’t have been more blatantly obvious that he was yours.

The killer about the entire thing is that Tom hadn’t really sent her packing. He’d been talking to her at the bar when you’d secured scurried off to use the powder room, sliding past the Friday night crowd after spotting him. You’d arrived just at the moment Friday Night Barbie had reached to paw at his arm, Ice shifting a little at the bar in a posture that wasn’t defensive at all. If anything, he’d looked welcoming.

“Tommy?”

He’d jumped bolt upright as if someone had dropped a steel beam down the length of his spine. His little friend’s eyes had widened when you’d glared daggers at her, lifting your hand to sport the pricey Tiffany ring Kazansky had slid onto your finger not even a year ago. Tight-lipped, cheeks nearly a neon shade of crimson, she’d slipped off her stool without so much as a by-your-leave and vanished into the night crowd.

On the verge of tears, angrier than a wet hen, you’d stalked out of the bar just at the moment Ice had moved off his seat to reach for you. You’d managed to tune him out, trying to move politely through the people, until you’d managed your way outdoors and a cool blast of heavy, ocean air had ripped open the ache in your chest, raw and bleeding like you were dying.

Tears had pounced into your eyes and you were crying as you’d stalked to the car. He’d driven both of you, but he’d give you the keys—you’d make him hand them over. Swiping at your eyes, humiliated and angry, you’d staggered across the gravel of the lot to the familiar Chevelle which was supposed to take you home much later than this.

He’d caught up to you, grabbed your arm to bring you to a rough start. He’d said your name in that way, the way that was firm and no-nonsense, like he had maybe a hundred times before. Usually it was fine. Usually you liked when he said your name with such ferocity and meaning. But not tonight. Maybe not ever, if the hole he’d punched through your heart would ever heal.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,”

You couldn’t believe he had the audacity. “Me? Blowing what out of proportion, Tom? It couldn’t possibly be the fact you let that—that hussy come onto you, could it? When I am right the fuck THERE? Did not one red flag, one warning bell go off telling you ‘This is a bad idea, Kazansky?’ What is it you flyboys call it—tone? No tone, Tom, trying to snap you out of it?” Actively crying, you wrenched your arm out of his hand, staggering backward when he released you.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart—I wasn’t into her. She asked to buy me a drink, and I said no—”

“Oh, well, that’s the least you could’ve said as you let her paw at your arm, Ice. Now give me the damn keys, Kazansky—I’m going home.”

He’d dropped into the seat beside you and said nothing, just to make sure you managed to get home safely. He’d told you so when you’d whipped the keys angrily across the kitchen island, sniveling and trying not to actively sob as he called after you. Racing up the stairs, trying not to hear him, you’d thrown on AC/DC after locking the door behind you.

He’d stood behind the door, trying to reason with you, for nearly an hour, until you’d sobbed so uncontrollably into the duvet you couldn’t hear him anymore. When you’d finally decided to go downstairs and drown your sorrows in booze, you’d peeked your head out the bedroom door to find the hall empty. Further inspection out of the kitchen window said he was gone, but the note he’d stuck to the fridge said he would be with Slider.

In retrospect, you should’ve known Ice would never open himself up to another woman so recklessly—it wasn’t his style. The cat and mouse the two of you had played before even deciding to go out officially was, officially, ridiculous. Some floozy at a bar was not enough to turn his head.

Or so you liked to think. On the good days. On the bad days—well. Today was a bad day.

He reassured you, always, that you were his, and that he wouldn’t have it any other way. That going back he’d do it all over again, the same way, because nothing you shared together was worth missing. Being the calculative, shrewd son of a bitch that he was, Ice actually was quite the romantic—though you’d never have guessed it, just knowing him.

But your humiliated and already-suffering-with-confidence self still didn’t actually believe it, even after almost a year of marriage. Ice was nothing if not something to ogle, and the blonde at the bar isn’t and wouldn’t be the last pair of tits to give him a second glance. Just like there’d always be men who tried to approach you when he wasn’t around.

This was Fightertown. It was fact. Regardless of both of your track records of loyalty, there was always the lurking suspicion in the cobwebs of your brain that Ice was wonderful, more man than you could ever deserve.

He loved you. Yes. All of your heart knew that was true.

But your head? Damn that fucker was thick, sometimes.

“I’m going to kill you, Ice,”

Snatching your keys out of the bowl by the door as you shoulder your purse, you pull the door closed behind you with the toe of your sneaker. Overhead street lights are casting long shadows down the block, not one house but yours alive in the early throes of ass o’clock in the morning.

The bar is about ten minutes out of Miramar, a gem of a place that you can contribute to Slider—this wasn’t the first dive you’d found yourself at thanks to Ron Kerner. Fabulous.

Ice’s car is parked crookedly in the back of the lot, and you swing the Diplomat up beside the Chevelle, checking through dark windows to see if, on the off chance, he’s decided to sleep it off in his car. No dice, the Chevelle is empty, and your groan before popping the latch on your door, sliding out into the humid, thick air of California dark.

Your feet are grinding on the pea rock of the lot until they hit the concrete steps, and the door weighs nearly a lifetime as you pull it open, assaulted with the low lights and haze of a bar that is definitely not smoke free. Coughing as you slip into the room that is swirling with nicotine and sweat, your eyes track the bar—Tom isn’t there, and neither is Slider, but every damn person seated at that bar has swiveled to notice you. Even the bartender himself pops a curious brow.

Largely populated by men, save the waitress clearing tables, you feel about two inches tall when you suck in a brave breath and march towards the long mahogany bar. Leaning against the edge, you greet the bartender, who you assume is the man you spoke to, with an apologetically small smile. He returns it to you, and it takes what is perhaps the Lord’s will holding the universe together for you to not grimace at his absolutely filthy teeth.

“You called me about my husband,” you say with a bit more bite than intended, “Tom Kazansky? I’m his wife. I’m here to take him home.” You swallow the embarrassment fanning to life across your nose as the men at the bar, obviously actively trying to overhear your conversation, do just that.

One nudges the other, thinking you’ve missed him, but your eyes cut to him for a second before the bartender nods and gestures with a thumb around the corner.

“He’s in the kitchen, honey. Guy he was with just took off with a buddy,” he nods, “right through there–careful, floor’s slippr’y,” he sends you off with a lift of his chin, slapping his bar rag over his shoulder as he turns to take another order.

Blinking at his retreating back, it takes you all of a few seconds to hustle through the swinging doors of the kitchen, which is long since quieted after typical dinner hours. Half the lights are on, Tom propped sat on a stool, head lowered to his arms crossed over one of the prep tables. What looks like a frozen bag of french fries is draped over the back of his neck.

Swinging hinges on the door creaking, you cock your hip and cross your arms over the front of your chest, trying to remain stalwart. Instinctively, Ice’s head lifts to register the new energy in the room, and his eyes snap over you in surprise for half a second. A slow smirk lifts the corner of his mouth–even from here, you can see he’s drunk.

“There you are,” he chuckles, his voice sultry and thick in a way that sends your insides somersaulting, “Was wondering when you’d find me, darling.”

“I didn’t,” you scoff, dropping your purse off your shoulder to the table as you march toward him, “the bartender found my number in your wallet and said you were making an asshole of yourself. Surprise.” Swinging to a stop across the able from him, Tom’s eyes haven’t left you. They’re adoring and dark, tracking you like he never wants to not look at you again. “The only reason I’m here is because I didn’t feel like bailing you out of jail and having to explain things to Mike.”

He snorts, a bit loudly, before rocking back on the stool a little to suavely run fingers through his close-cropped blonde hair. “You still sound pissed,”

“I am pissed. And I’m tired. Your ass better be able to walk, Ice.”

He grimaced at the venom in your tone, but chuckled and narrowed his gaze at you, chin plopping into his hand. “You aren’t still angry about that bitch at the bar, sweetheart,” it’s not a question, more of a probe, and at your deadpan expression his brow furrows a little deeper, “—oh come on, honey, honestly she came onto me and I didn’t even think about it. Really. I’d never do that to you,”

You want to believe him. Really, you do. But Ice’s distinct lack of withdrawing from the blonde at the bar is branded into your memory like a hot iron. Swallowing the uneasy breath that threatens tears in your eyes, you ignore the pang of your heart erratically skipping in your chest, and nod to him, spinning a finger in the let’s go signal.

“Tom, I really don’t want to talk about this—”

“Y/N. Listen, please. I’d never do that—you know that.”

For a heartbeat you’re inclined to believe him, mostly because he’s leaned across the table to snatch your wrist in his larger hand, pulling to an abrupt halt. The little jolt from where you hip bumps into the edge of the table makes you rethink wrenching your arm from his hand, but it’s mostly the weight of his stare that has you bolted into place.

Part of you knows that Tom is not the kind of man to be unfaithful. He is a good man, and has always been right by your side from the moment you’d agreed to start going steady with him. He’s as a good of a husband as he is a pilot, which means that he’s unshakeable and isn’t rattled. Always comes home.

Thinking back, Ice has never really looked at another woman—he doesn’t engage in the way Goose and Maverick and Slider do when it comes to ogling women at the club.

As a matter of fact, Ice is usually the first to change the topic. He stays home more than he goes out, preferring a quiet night in watching late night game shows over popcorn and cheap wine than going out and fending off crowds and loud music.

That quiet calculation that simmers beneath the surface has never once given you reason to be angry with him like this. Thinking about it, you hadn’t heard Tom’s conversation with the blonde at the bar—you’d only watched her reach for him. Not even giving Tom a chance to brush her off before you darted outside, hurt and overwhelmed and overthinking, you didn’t even know if he’d shook her off or not.

Overreacting was in your nature. That was something Ice knew about you.

And standing there, watching his sorry eyes track you, waiting for your hard exterior to break, you feel a pang of guilt at how you’ve treated him without knowing the full story.

Tongue thickening in your mouth, it’s suddenly both hot and freezing in this kitchen, and you shrug your shoulders a little.

It’s a miracle he isn’t angry—isn’t frustrated with your behavior. Other guys you’ve dated—other marriages you’ve seen—aren’t so forgiving.

“I think I know that,” you respond with a quiet, shaky sigh, “it’s just—”

“Sweetheart,”

His willingness to stand here in this kitchen and hash open your insecurities is too raw and too public. A hot bolt of frustration races up your throat and you pop off a biting, “Tom, let’s just go,” that makes him release your hand. “It’s late and I’m really, really tired.”

Sliding off the barstool, Tom Kazanksy is sober enough for his two feet as he rounds the long table, snatching your purse for you as you’re about to move for the swinging doors. Turning to brush shoulders with him, his hand on your bicep pulls you to another stop, your sneakers squeaking on the floor beneath you.

He gently shuffles you back, angling you so that your chest is brushed up against his arm. Close enough to glimpse the whiskey on his breath, you can feel the faint beat of his heart through his ribs as his warmth skips over you. His nose brushes against your temple as he breathes in the scent of your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your ear.

“There will never be anyone but you, my love,” the sharp, steely lines of Iceman Kazansky have broken through the loose drunkenness that’s been in the back of every word leading up to this, like he’s suddenly the man in the cockpit, making decisions that may change the course of national safety. “How could there ever be anyone else when I already have the woman I’ve always wanted?”

You suck in a slow, thin breath as a fraction of a second cracks between the two of you. Suddenly the kitchen is spinning in a jumble of color and haze, and it’s just you and Tom in the void of the universe, nothing able to exist outside of this moment. Your throat is closing you think, and the air in your chest is so thin that you fear it might be passing through your skin and not actually providing you any sort of help at all.

His other hand traps your chin between his thick fingers, tilting it up just a little. “I love you desperately, ma’am,” his voice rasps in that way that sends you reeling, and your heart picks up a few erratic beats more behind your ribs, “and nothing is going to ever change that. I married you, promised that you would be enough until death do us part, and I meant it. I am a man of my word. That much you know, pretty girl.”

Your eyes cast down to the floor, and you don’t realize your shaking until Ice’s grip on your forearm tightens a little, reassuringly. You’re trying too hard not to cry, but a little sniffle escapes you as you nod your understanding, his smile spreading against your forehead as his lips skip lightly along your forehead.

“Ice,” his name is perfect on your tongue, and you inhale a deep breath of his cologne, which is barely clinging to his beer-scented skin, “I’m not sorry for being jealous, but I am sorry for overreacting,” your voice is tiny, smaller than you intended as you bury your nose into his shoulder. “I should know better, yeah—but I’m a jealous wreck.”

Chuckle rumbling in his chest, he releases your arm to hug you, softly. “I know that, and I think it’s sexy as fuck, pretty,” his thumb returns to your chin, and he takes it a little rougher between his fingers, “Can I kiss you or do you still wanna stay pissed?”

You giggle and raise on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, firmly, “Why do you even have to ask, Ice?”

His smile is cheshire, cutting you at the knees. “Are you sure? No takebacks, darlin’,” the way he says darlin’ sends such a bolt of heat between your legs that you’re clenching, your stomach rolling in a delightful little somersault at the base of your spine.

“I’m sure, Iceman—I’m more than sure.”

#100 followers #100 followers celebration #blurb requests #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #controlled chaos squad #call sign meerkat #tom iceman kazansky #iceman top gun #answered asks

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soulofapatrick · 11 months

Text

A Stolen Moment - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: Tommy comes into the clinic after getting into a fight

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Notes: Sorry I haven’t written recently, lost motivation from an anon 😅 idm your criticisms but please make them constructive instead of just insulting

Y/N’s POV

Raising my head when the door of the clinic opens I don’t expect the one and only Tommy Miller to walk in and I don’t expect for him to be blushing and fumbling for words when he seems me, right hand waving towards his split knuckles on his left hand. I’m rolling my eyes and guiding him to one of the beds to sit down while I go and get the things I need to patch him up.

“What happened this time?” I ask as I search through my thinning supplies, searching for some antiseptic wipes I know I have here somewhere. I finally find the antiseptic wipes tucked away in a drawer, triumphantly pulling them out and turning back to Tommy to catch him nervously running a hand through his hair, cheeks still very flushed.

“Well, you know me,” He starts, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, “No-one gets to trash talk about the people I care about.”

I shake my head with a bemused smile, already accustomed to Tommy’s occasional bout of protectiveness when it comes to his family and close friends, “Joel?” Tommy chuckles, shaking his head and flushing even brighter red, drawing a frown from me as Tommy isn’t the shy sort of person. Before the outbreak he was the heartbreaker who had girls trailing after him and he loved the attention. He is still a little like that except he’s not as much of a playboy as he used to be and has settled down a lot more now. Well, that’s what Joel tells me.

His hand is rough in mine as I hold it still to begin cleaning it up, feeling him flinch slightly when the wipe hits the open cuts. Instinctively, I’m rubbing soothing circles into his wrist as I continue with even more care and caution as he speaks up, “No, not Joel,” He admits, voice a mix of sheepishness and sincerity that has me pausing what I’m doing and looking up to meet those deep russet eyes, “It was you.”

“Me? What do you mean, Tom?”

Tommy’s blush deepens and he averts his gaze, momentarily unable to meet my eyes, “I overheard some guys at the bar, he was talking trash about you,” He confesses, his voice laced with a surprising amount of protectiveness, “They were saying things that I couldn’t just let slide.”

A mixture of gravitate and confusion swirls within me. Tommy’s actions speaking volumes about his character, but I can’t help but wonder why he feels the need to defend me in such a way. I’m not much of anything in the town, helping between the stables and the clinic as a volunteer. I barely talk to Tommy, let alone anyone else, so I don’t know why he would want to defend my honour. The realisation that Tommy went out of his way to defend my honour fills me with a curious mixture of surprise, gratitude and something else entirely. It stirs a warmth in my chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, his actions go beyond mere friendship.

I’m probably reading into it too much. It was probably just a friendly gesture, devoid of any romantic intentions. I go back to cleaning up his split knuckles with the antiseptic wipes and prompt him gently, wanting him to tell me more, “What were they saying about me, Tommy?”

The older man takes a deep breath, eyes finding mine once again when I glance back up, “They were making disrespectful comments, lewd ones too.” He admits, voice tinged with a quiet resolve, “And… they were saying things about you that I won’t repeat. It crossed the line.”

A mixture of surprise and gratitude washes over me as I process Tommy’s words. It’s not often that someone comes to my defence so vehemently, especially without being prompted to do so. That spark of hope seems to catch fire and is now ablaze in my chest. His words echo in my mind, resonating with a quite resolve. It fuels the fire even more but, there is always the doubt that lingers, holding me back from fully embracing my feeling for Tommy.

As I continue to clean his split knuckles my mind races with conflicting thoughts and emotions. A mixture of vulnerability and hope swirls within me, bring me to seize the moment but I can’t. I don’t want to lose Tommy as friend, it’s not worth the risk. If I lost Tommy who would come flying into my house almost every morning with a cry of needing coffee? Who would bring me back books he thinks I’d like from his patrols? Who would visit me in the clinic with funny stories and stupider injuries? Tommy’s presence in my life has become a constant source of joy and support. He’s more than just a friend; he’s my confidant, my companion in this post-outbreak world. He’s my person. The memories we’ve created together, the laughter and shared experiences, are precious to me. Losing that connection is a risk that I’m not sure I’m quite ready to take.

I take a moment to observe Tommy, the way his gaze lingers on me, a mixture of concern and curiosity in his russet eyes. His curly black hair dances in the evening light, entwining strands of silver that glimmer subtly. His sun-kissed skin feels warm and inviting against mine, its softness contrasting with the ruggedness of his wounds. The sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks adds to his boyish charm, while his russet eyes shine brightly, taking on a lighter cognac hue in the fading daylight. With shoulder-length curls framing his face just so, a small goatee and a touch of moustache, he exudes a rugged and masculine allure.

As I carefully wrap the bandage around Tommy’s hand, my fingers gently securing the fabric in place, I can’t help but steal places at his captivating features. The way his russet eyes study my movements, it draws me in and holds my attention until I’m finally standing up, taking a step back to admire my handiwork, “You’ll be right as rain in a few days.”

“Thanks Doc.” He grins, gaze open and honest as he looks up at me, revealing vulnerability and a depth of emotion that sends shivers down my spine. Those captivating eyes, the colour of aged cognac in the light, holding a warmth that matches his sun kissed skin. I can’t help but get lost in their depth, my feet moving me forwards with me brain. His lips, plump and slightly parted, seem to beckon me closer, their sun-kissed hue inviting me to lean in and taste their sweetness. The flush of rosiness on his freckled cheeks only enhancing his natural allure, accentuating the boyish charm that surrounds him.

“S-stop me,” I’m choking out when his large and calloused hands land on my waist, pulling me in the final distance so I’m stood between his legs. My heart pounds in my chest as I feel Tommy’s hands on my waist, pulling me closer again until there’s barely any space between us. I try to form words to protest, to remind him of the potential consequences, but they get caught in my throat, overridden by the overwhelming desire coursing through me.

With a gently yet firm hold, Tommy draws me down towards him, and our lips meet in a collision of longing and pent up emotions. It’s a kiss that catches us both off guard, a culmination of unspoken desires that have been building between us. Our breath mingles, and our hearts race in unison as if signalling the gravity of the moment. The first brush of our lips sends electric shocks coursing through my body, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing second. It’s as if we’ve both been craving this connection, this intimacy, like a drug we’ve been denying ourselves of far too long.

Gasps escape the kiss, our mouths moving hungrily, desperately, seeing solace and comfort in each other. It’s a dance of tongues and a tangle of lips, a symphony of shared desires and unspoken words. The world around us fading into insignificance as we immerse ourselves in the intoxicating moment, losing track of time and place.

Tommy’s touch is both gentle and possessive, his hands roaming my back, sending shivers down my spine. My fingers tangle in his curly black hair, pulling him closer and keeping the kiss with a hunger that matches his own until we’re both needing air. We part almost reluctantly, breathless and dizzy, our eyes locking as we try to comprehend the depth of what we’ve juts shared. The air crackles with a newfound intensity, the room filled with an electric charge that lingers between us.

A soft chuckle escapes Tommy’s lips as he caresses my cheek, the warmth of his touch seeping into my skin. His eyes sparkle with a mixture of tenderness and amusement, as if he’s enjoying the effect he has on me. I can’t help but lean into hi touch, unable to deny the overwhelming attraction that binds us.

“I can hear you thinking, Darlin’.” He murmurs, his voice filled with a hint of teasing affection. The heat rises to my cheeks, confirming that this is indeed real, and my heart flutters in response. How could I have ever doubted the sincerity of his actions?

A realisation washes over me, breaking through the remnants of disbelief. This isn’t a dream; it’s the start of something incredible which sounds so incredibly cliche. Tommy, the man I’ve admired from a distance, has taken that leap with me, embracing the possibility of a deeper connection. It brings a newfound confidence to me, raising my hand to rest on his, keeping it against my cheek. The warmth of his touch grounding me, dispelling any lingering doubts or uncertainties.

“Tom,” I whisper, my voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability, “Never thought I’d be yours.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes, “I was always yours.” He replies, voice barely above a whisper. Tears glisten in my eyes as I absorb Tommy's words, feeling a rush of emotions overwhelm me. The weight of his admission, the depth of his feelings, and the sheer vulnerability he displays leave me breathless. It's as if he's been waiting for this moment as much as I have, as if we were destined to find each other in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

I let go of any lingering fears, surrendering to the undeniable connection between us, leaning down to capture his lips with mine once again. The kiss is soft and tender, filled with a profound sense of longing and affection. Our lips move together in perfect harmony, meeting again and again like old friends. His lips warm and inviting, meshing with mine in a dance that speaks volumes of unspoken desires. There is a delicate balance between passion and tenderness, a harmony that leaves us both gasping for breath and craving more.

Tommy’s hand cradles my face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he wants to imprint this moment in his memory forever. I respond with equal fervour, my fingers tangling in his hair again and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with an intensity that matches the wildfire burning within us.

There’s an unspoken language between us, a silent understanding of the depth of our connection. It’s a kiss that conveys all the unspoken words, all the unexpressed emotions and all the promises that lie ahead.

“Damn sugar, that was something.” Tommy breathes, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. It sends a flush through me again, this time heading south with how his hands are gripping my hips, “I hope this isn’t just a heat of the moment thing.”

“Never,” My voice is just as breathy as his and his face breaks out into a grin, hands flexing against my hips before he’s sliding off the bed and too his feet. My eye line now at his chin, making me look up at him and fuck, he’s perfect. I watch as Tommy stands before me, his presence commanding and his words filled with assurance. The heat of the moment may have sparked our connection, but his genuine concern reassures me that this is more than just a fleeting encounter. The way his hands linger on my hips and the intensity in his eyes affirm the depth of his commitment.

“I’ve got to get back to work but I’ll be here for you when you finish your shift, baby doll.” He coos, ducking down to steal another quick kiss from me before reluctantly pulling away, leaving me standing there, breathless and longing for more. I watch him straighten his posture, his confidence radiating from every pore. He's a man of action, committed to his responsibilities, yet always finding a way to make time for what truly matters. A shiver runs down my spine at his endearing nickname, "baby doll," a term of endearment that melts any remaining doubts or insecurities. I feel a surge of anticipation for the hours ahead, knowing that when my shift ends, he'll be there waiting for me.

“Take care Tom,” I murmur, my voice filled with affection and longing. I can’t help but admire him as he turns to leave, his figure seemingly fighting to stay as he walks towards the door. As he leaves, a sudden longing fills the air between us. But just as I resign myself to the anticipation of his return later, he’s spinning on his heels and retracing his steps back to me with a sense of purpose.

In a whirlwind of moment, Tommy closes the distance between us once more. His lips crash against mine, a passionate and exhilarating connection that steals my breath away. Every touch, every brush of his lips against mine ignites a fiery passion within me, leaving me hungry for more.

As abruptly as he arrived, Tommy pulls away, his eyes sparkling with triumph and mischief. With a swift moment, he releases my lips, a smug grin spreading across his face. His victory is evident in his triumphant shout, echoing through the room, filling the air with contagious joy. It draws a burst of laughter from me, caught off guard by his impulsivity. The surprise and delight intertwine, creating a lighthearted ambiance that fills the space between us. It’s a memory I will forever cherish.

Still chuckling, I watch as Tommy retreats, his steps filled with purpose and energy. He leaves me standing there, breathless and elated, a mix of anticipation and contentment swirling within me. With a smile on my face and a heart brimming with joy, I continue on with a newfound spring in my step. I know that when my shift ends, Tommy will be there, waiting for me with open arms and a heart full of love. And together, we'll embark on a journey that promises to be filled with laughter, passion, and stolen kisses that will forever leave us breathless.

---------------

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andorerso · 1 year

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Rebelcaptain Trees for @rebelrainfall: Firefighters AU (with bonus secret relationship and protective Jyn)

“I don’t care,” Jyn’s voice rang out loudly in the room as she tried to wave off Bodhi’s attempts to keep her lying in that goddamn hospital bed, “I want to see him!”

“The doctor told you to stay put — hey.” With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught her just as her legs began to wobble, then gave her a pointed look that said “See?”

“Then get me a goddamn wheelchair,” she growled through gritted teeth but allowed Bodhi to help her back to bed. Normally, she wouldn’t have caved so easily. But maybe he had a point… She hadn’t expected her legs to feel so wobbly or the room to start swimming when she stood up, and she wasn’t sure she could make it to Cassian’s room.

But she needed to see him.

Needed to know he was okay.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Bodhi said he had two surgeries while she was unconscious and he hadn’t woken up yet, but not much else. She was afraid of how much he was holding back in order to spare her while she was still in recovery as well. If anything was seriously wrong, he’d tell her, right?

“Jyn, you really should rest. I know you two are close, but —”

“No, you don’t!” she snapped, forgetting herself for a second. Of course he didn’t know. He couldn’t have, because they never told anybody.

There were reasons for that, once, but she was struggling to recall them now.

It was just so easy at first. They sneaked behind their friends’ backs like teenagers, making out in the alleyway behind the bar on drinking nights or holding hands under the table while everyone was preoccupied. There was some kind of thrill in the secrecy, in catching Cassian’s eyes across the table and seeing them sparkle with the same excitement, in knowing this belonged only to them and no one else. A room full of people, and they were all oblivious to the truth. Their little secret.

But they never committed, not really. They didn’t want to upset the team dynamic, they said. Didn’t want to be serious with someone who risked their lives on a weekly basis just as much as themselves. It was just some good fun. Or it was supposed to be.

But somewhere along the way, she’d fallen. Hard. And she never realized it, not until he pushed her out of the way of that falling beam in that crumbling house eaten by fire and told her to go. It hadn’t fallen on him, thankfully, but it had obstructed the only way downstairs and out of the building, and as Jyn looked at him, she knew they both had the same thought. He wasn’t leaving.

The crying child in her arms was the only thing that gave her strength to turn around and leave him there. Still, she promised him, “I’m coming back.”

But as soon as the little girl was safe outside, her vision went blurry and her knees buckled. She’d inhaled too much smoke. She’d wanted to get up, to go back, but darkness swallowed her instead.

When she woke up in the hospital, she thought he was dead, and for a shamefully long second, she wished she hadn’t woken up at all. But the floorboard on the second floor gave away, and Cassian fell through, landing in the living room and allowing the rest of the team to extract him in time. Bodhi said it fucked up his back, which was why he needed surgery, but it also very likely saved his life.

And she needed to see that with her own two eyes. Living and breathing. She needed to replace the last memory she had of him; standing on the other end of that beam, reserved to his fate but apologetic and his face behind his helmet shining with a thousand things he never said to her. Not aloud.

She needed to hear him say those things, and she needed to say them back.

Realization dawning on Bodhi, his eyes went wide. “You two are…?”

Jyn let out a small groan, taking deep breaths to try and slow her racing heart. There was no point in denying the truth; she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyway. Sneaking around was fun at first, but she wanted more than that now. She wanted the real deal. And the thought of letting Cassian go through his recovery alone while she pretended there was nothing between them made her sick. Nothing was worth abandoning him again.

“Please just…” She raised her gaze to Bodhi, pleading with him. “I need to see him.”

xxx

The rest of their team had congregated at Cassian’s bedside when Bodhi wheeled her into the room. Faces immediately turned in her direction, questions and well wishes on everyone’s lips, but Jyn only had eyes for Cassian. He was still unconscious, but his chest rose and fell with steady breaths, and her eyes welled up at the sight. Bodhi parked her next to his bed, close enough that she could reach out and graze her fingers along Cassian’s stubble.

Which she did. So what if everyone was watching? The truth was already out now that Bodhi knew.

Her hand still gently caressing his cheek, Jyn closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, willing the tears away. That suffocating weight on her chest began to ease a bit.

“Is he going to wake up?” she asked, turning to face the rest of their team watching her in silence. No one commented on the slight quiver in her voice, or the way her hand was now clutching Cassian’s hospital gown like a lifeline, but she could see the realization written on their faces. And she felt nothing but relief to have it out in the open.

“Doctor said he should wake up soon,” Melshi confirmed, his tone reassuring. “He might not be able to stay on the squad with his back but —”

“I don’t care about that,” Jyn cut him off, turning back to stare at Cassian again. None of it mattered as long as he was safe. “I just want him to wake up.”

She curled her hand around his, lacing their fingers together. She’d wait by his side until he did. And then she’d tell him how she felt and kiss him. And make sure he never got into so much trouble again.

Lifting their hands, she pressed her lips to his palm and whispered against his skin, “Come back to me.”

Cassian’s fingers twitched under hers, and her gaze flew up to see his eyelids fluttering with movement. The breath whooshed out of her in a shuddering gasp, and a couple of tears escaped her anyway as she squeezed his hand to let him know she was here.

She wouldn’t be leaving him again.

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptaintrees #rebelrainfall #rogue one #dailyrebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #my fics #i was gonna do firefighters only but then i realized i coud sneak in secret relationship and protective jyn all at once #so i hope you like this <3 #my process was smg like: 'oh i'll just make this moodboard'#'oh i'll just add a little description/summary to go with it'#'oh i'll just write a short little scene of jyn going to see cass in the hospital'#'whoops this is 1k now oh well'#*rebelcaptain #*graphics

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