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#guess who finally isn’t behind in work?
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The Chain Meets You, His Partner || 3/3
Part 1 || Part 2
Pairing: Time, Wild, Four x GN! Reader
Requested by @temporarilyablog: i see requests are open still so im coming to you with a thought i had recently:how about a Link from the Chain interacting with the reader, another Link’s s/o from their original adventures, when *their* Link isn’t around. i can see some teasing another Link with the reader that they’ve only known through little stories here and here, or others grilling the reader relentlessly because another Link was so shy about their relationship and partner, and wants to know how that Link is like around someone he allows himself to relax.its kinda like when the Chain met Malon for the first time and interacted with her for stories about old man Timeand as always stay awesome, i love your writing!
Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist
Concerningly delighted or eerily eager - the Chain can’t quite agree on which descriptor best described their teammate the best once he realized they had all landed in his Hyrule. Bubbling with excitement ever since while maintaining a pace some of the other boys have to jog after, Link doesn’t waste breath saying where he’s leading them, although that giddy smile upon his face - as much as he tries to hide it - is plenty for the wiser heroes to get the hint…
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The Chain already knew about you - Well, they knew the Old Man was hitched. To exactly who, he'd never say for his lips were always sealed with a mischievous smirk that kept the boys betting against each other.
Some insisted that their leader's mystery lover must be Princess Zelda, but Twilight felt that was a preposterous assumption. He tended to agree with Legend's guess that they had to be someone simple; someone who could make an extraordinary man feel ordinary in the best way possible...which was the correct prediction, of course.
As it would turn out, you are, in fact, not a noble or royal princess. Instead, you're an average farmhand living a calm life on your friend's ranch where you miss your husband greatly after many months of him being gone, so please excuse the passionate kiss shared between you both once finally reuniting at the front of the property.
Time isn't at all shy to show you off. Having been married for so many years, it's only natural for his arm to feel most comfortable wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his side where he can easily connect kisses to your forehead and cheek. If the boys have a problem with it, it's best not to spoil the mood. Perhaps one day they'll understand the intoxicating love that is felt whenever in the presence of their most beloved.
"You just missed Malon and Talon. They went into town for a few deliveries and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," You explain to your husband while leading the boys to the house. He hums thoughtfully and you don't miss the way he 'subtly' tugs you even closer.
"It’s good timing on our part then. 'wouldn't want to leave you stuck doing all the chores on your own."
"Now Link, you've been off on the road for months. Rest and I'll -"
"- Is there anything I could help with?" A young man from the group pipes in shyly from behind, "I grew up on a ranch myself, so it wouldn't be any bother."
"Oh, no. You boys are our guests. I'd hate to -" You begin, turning to face him with an appreciative smile, however Time is quick to object.
"- Nonsense. They're all capable young men and boys. A little work won't kill them, darling."
"- But -"
"- And it won't kill me, either," He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss upon your knuckles, "If anything, we could all use the distraction."
"...Well, in that case..."
There is plenty to be done around the farm and you only have two hands of your own, so, aware that you wouldn't win an argument against your husband anyways, you take him up on his offer. The other heroes do seem more than willing, happy to provide their services for tasks that don't involve risking their lives against cruel monsters, you know, minus the cuccos. 
Time and you each take four of the boys with yourselves. While he directs his half to the animals they'll be tending to, you lead yours to the barn, making sure to point out the layout of the ranch along the way so that none get lost when left on their own. 
You're happy to find that they're all very polite, particularly the young man from earlier who remains close on your heels throughout each step. He seems adorably eager to engage in conversation with you, asking many questions and adding comments to whatever you say. It makes sense, you suppose, since he certainly does look to be the small homestead-type based upon his build and knowledge of ranch life.
"You said this is your friend’s ranch. How long have you lived here yourself?”
"Gosh, 'seems like forever. At least since I was ten. It wasn't long before I met Link, I know that."
"You guys have really known each other for that long?"
"Uh-huh...but of course, it doesn't feel that long," You sigh fondly, "'seems like just yesterday we were sitting out there in that pasture as he told me about his home in the forest and all his adventures…Funny how time flies when you're havin' fun."
Speaking of the devil, you spot your husband at the pasture's fence, clearly waiting for you to finish up. Inviting the boys to find you if they have any questions, you leave them to work on the chores they've been assigned while you, yourself, head to join Time.
"Did they give you any trouble?"
"None at all. By the way you made it sound in your letters, I thought they'd be far more troublesome," You cross your arms over the fence, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin, "But maybe you’ve just been too harsh on them."
"You've only spent a few hours with them. Give ‘em a chance and you'll start going gray, too," He rolls his eye, his lack of amusement towards your playful accusation telling you that those boys really must be a handful sometimes. Either way, deny it as he might, you know that look in his eye. Even as he leans here on the fence next to you, he watches the boys work with a softness hidden in his expression. He certainly cares for them.
"...You know, one of them is a descendant of ours," Time mentions casually, breaking you away from your straying thoughts.
"What?" When you look at him, he's still facing the distance, "...You're joking?"
He just smirks, only glancing at you through the corner of his eye.
"You're serious...?" You blink in disbelief before quickly pushing yourself off the fence, "Which one?!"
"Isn't it obvious?"
You place your hands upon your hips, making your own lack of amusement clear now, "There's eight of them. At least give me a hint."
Time pretends to consider your request, but ultimately shakes his head, "...No, I don’t think so. That would ruin the fun of having you guess."
"Liiinnk..." You whine, although even your pout proves ineffective. Your husband merely chuckles as he pushes himself off the fence and begins walking away to resume his chores, "You better not be lying to me!”
"I would never lie to you, my love. I know better than that~"
"I'm going to find out which one it is even if I have to interrogate them all!" You shout after him, huffing when he doesn't reply.
Part of you is tempted to do exactly as you said by confronting each boy until you receive a proper answer, but you also promised the Champion you'd show him the kitchen to start dinner soon. You'd hate to keep him and everyone else waiting with rumbling stomachs, especially if one of them is your descent in question. 
Now truthfully, you do already have a guess in mind - or more so a hope - however it's too early to decide. You'll just have to keep a close eye on them until this evening and if no one sticks out then, you'll be left to force it out of your husband who should really know better than to mess with you like this.
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"Hey, I'm back!" It doesn't matter how long he's been away - days, weeks, months - those three words always seem to take a massive amount of weight off of Wild's chest every time, washing over him with a sense of belonging and domestic bliss that replaces all the strict expectations set for being a 'hero'.
"Link!" This feeling is easily reinforced after one look at you. Your glowing smile as you appear at the railing upstairs, his name sounding like honey from your lips…It's automatic for him to drop his heavy bags and weapons beside the door before opening his arms at the bottom of the steps just in time for you to jump over those last few right into his embrace which you’ve both missed so much.
"...Welcome home..." Sometimes that whisper in his ear is enough to make Wild cry. It's such a pleasant sound and reminder that he does, in fact, have a home because as much as he loves sleeping under the stars or following his heart across the vast kingdom of Hyrule, there will never be a day where it doesn't yearn to be beside you.
It's a cute scene to witness - two lovers reunited after so long apart - although the Chain does have a few questions swirling in their minds, namely who the heck are you? A pretty face just casually leaping into the Champion's arms before sharing a heartfelt kiss? They'd be happy for the guy if not for the fact that he has never once mentioned having a lover and you seem far too well acquainted to be a random friend.
"O-Oh, um, hi," You finally take notice of your audience, breaking away from Wild to send them all an awkward smile which they return, some with a few small waves. 
“Oh, these are the guys I’ve been traveling with,” Wild explains, which seems to put you more at ease.
“Nice to meet you all,” You give the group a bashful nod before introducing yourself. Your name does sound vaguely familiar - perhaps having been mentioned in mere passing at some point or another - but the Chain still can’t say they recall Wild ever identifying you as a partner.
“And are you guys…Um…?” Sky gestures between you both, trying to keep his smile from seeming too surprised. He’d hate to offend either of you.
“We’re dating,” You confirm comfortably, looking at Wild with a smile he mirrors as your hands interlock. 
“Dating? As in romantically involved, right?” Four raises an eyebrow, his question catching you off guard. 
“Y-Yes, well, I believe that’s what dating entails -”
“- How’d you manage that?” Legend interrupts, the question directed at Wild while pointing to you with a look of disbelief upon his face. Apparently he doesn’t share Sky’s concern towards delivering any offense…
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“It’s just - You never mentioned being in a relationship,” Hyrule mumbles.
Wild is quick to blush and duck his head in embarrassment, his words defensive, “It’s not like any of you asked! I - I just never thought it was important to bring up! It never seemed relevant!”
“He mentioned it to me,” Twilight admits, taking everyone’s attention off the flustered Champion, but only temporarily. 
“See! I could’ve said something and you just didn’t listen! Did you think of that?”
“Or you only told the rancher. You two are always sharing dirty little secrets and leaving the rest of us in the dark.”
This…goes on for a good moment. Rest assured, the argument does eventually subside after Time knocks their heads together allowing you a chance to swiftly change the subject by inviting the boys fully inside your lovely home. From there, you offer to get started on lunch, figuring it will be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know the other heroes better and spend some quality time with your boyfriend who is always quick to relax in the kitchen.
You begin chopping some vegetables while he gets the soup base shimmering, the two of you humming quietly amongst yourselves as you work. Your tranquil smiles and practiced teamwork is enough to make anyone feel jealous of such a strong relationship, although it’s all in good spirits. The other boys hold no resentment towards their friend, instead reflecting his joy as they eagerly tell you stories about their shared adventures in return for some information about yourself.
As it turns out, you’ve grown up in Hateno your whole life and had met Wild rather early in the beginning of his quest to defeat Calamity Ganon. He must’ve made quite the first impression - that or perhaps you took a lot of pity upon his confused state - because you willingly left your small village to help him navigate an unfamiliar Hyrule. Over the course of your journey, you grew close and never really found a good reason to leave each other’s sides even after the kingdom was saved, thus you’ve been together ever since.
“This house had been abandoned for years before we bought it. It’s nice because it’s still a part of Hateno, so we’re close to other people and my family, but far enough back to have our own peace and quiet,” You explain in a dreamy sigh as you turn to look over your home and admire the work you’ve done to this old place. 
“What’s with the construction back there?” Four asks, nodding his head towards the many boxes and tools that block the wall under the staircase.
“We’re adding another room,” Wild answers simply, not taking his attention away from the soup broth that he frowns at because it’s certainly missing something. More salt rock? Maybe a dash of Hylian herb?
Legend scoffs, leaning back against his chair at the table, “How much space do two people really need?”
Wild and you pause, glancing over your shoulders to meet each other’s eyes before going back to your work with flustered smiles. Clearing your throat, you give a shrug, “...Well, the plan is for it to not just be the two of us forever.”
Many of the boys raise eyebrows at this comment, the realization slowly but surely daunting on them. Their faces explode in shades of red once it does.
Time coughs into his fist, the first to break the silence, "...We'll be sure not to keep the Champion away from you for too long then."
Wild nearly gives himself whiplash looking back at Time with what can only be described as a modified expression of betrayal, his face beet red and mouth agape in shock. You'd be lying to say your own face doesn't feel awfully warm, too, although you humor the Old Man’s promise with a laugh, "You better not. This kingdom’s already demanded too much of his time away from home.”
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Four has never been one for unnecessary fanfare, especially not in regards to his personal life. With that said, while he doesn’t mind discussing the intimate details of who he is outside of his role as a hero, he also doesn’t typically go out of his way to spill his guts about it either which is precisely why it took the Chain so long to find out about you.
Their friend had been rather vague as to where he was leading them after arriving in his Hyrule. They had already met his grandfather and even spent some time helping with chores, but Four insisted there was at least one more stop he wished to make before hitting the road again so that he could - get this - drop off a book for ‘someone’...
Now, being entirely honest, the Chain did internally judge his priorities just a bit, but they also weren’t about to kick up a fuss over it. Although Four failed to specify the identity of this mysterious ‘someone’, the other heroes simply assumed them to be an old friend, the gifted book acting as a mere excuse for Four to see them again. It’s only natural for a Link to begin missing his loved ones after adventuring for so long, and their resident smith must reeeally love you if that kiss you share is any indication. 
It happens so quickly that the other boys can barely process what their eyes bear witness to. One moment Four had been standing at the doorstep, book in hand as he assured everyone once again that his visit wasn’t going to take long. Then the door opened to an attractive stranger and next thing anyone knew, their Smithy was standing on his toes locking lips with said stranger - And with no hesitation whatsoever! 
“Link! It’s good to see you…Are these your friends?” You ask the question in such a casual manner as if it’s just an everyday occurrence for your boyfriend to randomly return with a whole new entourage behind him after months of being away.
“Yes. I’d tell you their names, but you know them already,” Four replies with a similarly calm demeanor, although his smile is now much more pronounced than it had been on the walk over, “Everyone here is named ‘Link’.”
“Easy enough to remember,” Even that information doesn’t seem to faze you beyond an intrigued eyebrow raise.
You’re quick to introduce yourself, not only by name, but also by the important title of being Four’s partner. Again, there’s no hesitation towards this establishment and he doesn’t so much as blink at hearing it, showing that this definitely isn’t a recent development for either of you. That little shit’s been dating you for a while, hasn’t he?! They should’ve known something was up seeing how annoyed he got following some of the other boys’ attempts at setting him up with a flirtatious local in the last visited town!
“It’s nice to meet you all. Link - Well, my Link has mentioned you in his letters before, so I was curious if our paths would ever cross.”
“Really? Cause he didn’t mention you at all…” Legend mumbles before getting elbowed roughly by Twilight.
“Will you all be staying? I can make tea or something -”
“- No. We’re only passing by so that I could give you this,” Four turns down your offer while handing you the book he’s been carrying around practically all day. How easily he’s able to do this surprises the Chain further, after all, most would jump at the chance to spend more time with their beloved. Surely just a few measly minutes can’t be enough to fill his quarter around you, can it?
“Ah, come on! You’re just going to introduce us and leave? That’s no way to treat a lover,” Warrior shames through a mischievous smirk. 
“We have a job to do. I wouldn’t want to delay us any longer than needed,” Four narrows his eyes at the Captain in return, yet that doesn’t stop the rest of the Chain from looking to Time who eventually sighs under the pressure of their gazes.
“...It would be rude to simply leave as suddenly as we came. I suppose there’s no harm in staying a short while - only if we are welcomed, of course.”
“Wonderful! I’ll get started on that tea then!” Four grimaces while the Chain cheers and enters your home without needing any more of an invite. Noticing his dampened mood, you place a hand on his shoulder and frown, “Do you not want to stay? I wouldn’t be upset -”
“- Of course, I want to stay,” He sighs, his hand quickly placing itself over your own, “I’ve missed you, I just don’t want them embarrassing me. They can be a bit…much sometimes.”
You chuckle, gently leading him inside, “They can’t be that bad, can they?”
“Hey Smithy! Why didn’t you say anything about having a lover before? After all we’ve been through together, too; we should be hurt!”
“...Can they?” Four deflates, and your smile turns more sympathetic. 
“Was it supposed to be a big secret?” Hyrule asks innocently, followed by Warrior’s scoff.
“I hope you aren't ashamed of them now.”
Four huffs in offense at that last comment, crossing his arms while shifting his weight to one side, “No, I’m not ashamed of them, and it was never a secret, it’s just that none of you ever asked. What was I supposed to do? Randomly start going on and on about my love life as we all ate around the campfire?”
“The Captain has no problem doing it,” Wild mocks, earning an insulted glare.
Hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, Four rolls his eyes sarcastically, “This is my partner and I love them…There, you guys know now. Happy?”
“But we still don’t know any details!” Shy whines, “Like, how’d you guys meet? How long have you been together?”
“Are you married? Do you want to be?”
…Dear Hylia, Four can already feel a headache coming on. Seeing his plight, you go ahead and answer the questions for yourself, “I’m afraid it’s not that interesting of a story. We grew up together and were always close until one day, we simply decided our relationship was more romantic than platonic. That was about a year or so ago. Not sure if we’re going to get married anytime soon since we’re still pretty young…but it’s a nice thought for the future.”
“You seem to have a very comfortable life here,” Time acknowledges, having a look around your home which is cozy and filled with books, many having been gifts from your boyfriend who has always made a point of bringing at least one back after each of his adventures.
“Laidback and uneventful in the best way possible,” Is how someone else describes it, “We can see why you’d like our Smith then.”
“True,” You snort before sharing an amused smirk with Four, “Although he can be quite the handful sometimes.”
The boys raise their eyebrows, not certain what you're alluding to. The Smith a handful? Are you certain you're talking about the same guy now, or does he have a secret polar-opposite twin hiding around here somewhere? Now that’s an actual secret he won’t be telling them anytime soon.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It��s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
4K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 9 months
Text
Pick Me
Bucky x reader 
The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 
warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.
A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲
-
“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 
“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 
“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 
“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 
The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 
“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 
“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 
“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 
Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 
“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 
“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.
“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 
“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 
“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 
“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 
“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 
“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 
“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 
Still.
Something was off.
You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...
No.
He wouldn’t do that. 
Right?
*****
“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 
“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 
“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 
Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 
“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 
No.
Relax. 
“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 
“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 
“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 
“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 
“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 
“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 
You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 
But you didn’t want to be petty. 
You were more mature than this. 
“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 
“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 
“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 
“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”
“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 
“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 
You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 
“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 
“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 
“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”
You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 
“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 
“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 
“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  
“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 
“Fuck sweets, you look- 
“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 
“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 
Since when did he call anyone else doll. 
You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 
“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 
“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-
“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...
Right? 
You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.
*****
“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 
You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 
“Bucky, what are you-
“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”
Fantastic.
“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  
“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”
“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 
“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.
You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 
An hour later, it was 7. 
Then 7:30. 
And then 8.
By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 
****
Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 
He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 
“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 
“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 
“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 
We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 
“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-
“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 
“Yeah, I-
“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 
“Doll?”
“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 
“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 
“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.
How wrong he was. 
You avoided him in the morning. 
And the day after that. 
Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 
*****
“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 
“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 
“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 
“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 
“I didn’t mean to forget- 
“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 
“What did I do?”
“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 
“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”
Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 
“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.
“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 
As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 
“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 
“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 
****
“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 
“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 
“Baby, please!”
No. 
“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 
“There’s nothing to talk about”
“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 
“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.
“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”
“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 
“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”
You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 
“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 
“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”
“You’re an absolute idiot”
“An idiot who is in love” 
“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”
“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 
“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 
“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 
“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 
“And he happily agreed because...”
“Because...?”
“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 
****
“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 
“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”
“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 
“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 
“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 
“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 
“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”
“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 
“You want a snack?”
“Nick?”
“Uh-Nicole?”
“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”
Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 
“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 
“Fuck, I love you James” 
“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 
“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.
“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 
“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 
“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 
“Yup, real happy”
“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 
Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 
“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 
8K notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
Text
Mama Munson cannot cook.
She cannot bake.
She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.
But Wayne can cook.
He can bake.
He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.
Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.
Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.
Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.
Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.
They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.
Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.
Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.
His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.
And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.
Not Steve Harrington, though.
He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.
She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.
She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.
Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.
Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.
She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.
But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.
She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.
She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.
So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.
She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.
There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.
When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.
She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.
“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”
Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.
1K notes · View notes
007reid · 7 months
Note
sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires
FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍
dreams. spencer reid (18+)
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spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)
summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon
warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!
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spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.
you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.
today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.
“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”
still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.
his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"
"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."
you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.
***
spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.
it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.
"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.
"mhm. no."
"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.
"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.
you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.
"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.
you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"
he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.
"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.
"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.
he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.
"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"
he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."
"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"
"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.
he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.
you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.
spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”
you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.
“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.
“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.
“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”
he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.
“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”
you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”
“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“
“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”
“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.
you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.
“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“
“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.
“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.
his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”
“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.
you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.
you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.
you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.
“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.
“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.
you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“
“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.
“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”
“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”
you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.
when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”
your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.
“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.
spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”
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theonotti · 7 months
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THAT FINAL NIGHT | OS | t.n.
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle
Word Count: 8k
Summary: Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Theodore Nott is out of Azkaban. And after years and years of being apart, he's finally ready for the reunion he's been waiting on.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, kind of angsty, kinda fluffy, pining, Modern AU where i moved up the battle so 10 years later is more present day
Notes: This is my first full Theo fic, please let me know what you think!
“Guess who’s in town.”
Theo hums thoughtfully while he sets the heavy box in his arms down on the counter, ripping the tape off.
“Oprah.”
Mattheo rolls his eyes.
“Try again.”
“The Queen.”
“The dead one?”
“Right. Forgot about that.”
Mattheo laughs, shaking his head as he grabs a rag and a spray bottle to wipe off the bar top.
“Got any other foolish guesses?” He asks. Theo pauses, feigning thought before shaking his head and resuming his work.
“Fresh out, I’m afraid.”
Theo grabs a pair of bottles from the open box then turns towards the shelves behind him. His back aches from the amount of moving he’s had to do. Running heavy boxes from his truck to the stockroom. Bending down while doing inventory. At the ripe age of 27, his back just isn’t what it used to be, and is in far worse shape than most men his senior.
Mattheo glances down at the bar briefly, the humor slowly fading from his expression, before he looks back up at his best friend.
“My sister.”
The bottle shatters as it hits the floor.
Theo jumps, not realizing one of the bottles had slipped from his hand until it was too late. Mattheo stares as Theo begins to clean up his mess, although if he notices that it happening right when his sister was mentioned is more than a coincidence, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Erm… What's she doing in town?” Theo asks casually as he kneels down with the broom and dustpan.
“Her and that rat, McLaggen, are finally getting divorced. She’s staying with me for a while.”
The room starts to swelter. Theo nods, trying to play off his sigh as one of sympathy rather than relief. Standing with the dustpan full of glass, he dumps the remains of the bottle into one of the other empty boxes he made while stocking before putting the cleaning supplies away. His hands slide into his pockets to wipe the sweat from his palms.
“How… how’s she handling it?”
This makes Mattheo pause. He glances up at his oldest friend, his look a mix of thoughtful and confused.
“She’s weirdly… calm about it,” He explains in a slow voice. “I think their marriage ended a long time ago, and she’s had time to mourn it before actually sticking the knife in it.”
The thought of you being miserable for that long before taking the plunge to leave sends Theo’s heart into a sadness he can’t explain. He looks away from Mattheo, trying to rationalize his thoughts before speaking again. Fortunately for him, Mattheo pipes up again before he has the chance.
“She’ll be at Malfoy’s party on Saturday. She can meet a new bloke there.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Theo’s mouth, but not over his friend’s cheeky remark.
“You’d rather her hook up with someone who aligns with Draco Malfoy?” Theo dares to ask as he looks back at the curly haired man next to him.
A beat passes.
“You’re right. She’s actually banned from the premises.”
A hearty laugh escapes Theo’s mouth as he turns away from Mattheo, although he could hear the seriousness in his friend’s tone behind the joke.
“Remind me… what did she see in McLaggen again?” Theo asks as he begins to fill the shelves behind the counter with the bottles he managed not to break. Mattheo sighs in exasperation, slapping the towel against the top of the bar.
“Fuck if I know,” Mattheo mumbles. “I asked her over and over how she could marry that creep. I think that’s why she stopped phoning, honestly.”
Theo raises his eyebrows only briefly, although with his back to Mattheo, it’s a look only expressed to himself. Mattheo Riddle, for as long as Theo can remember, has always been the over protective brother first and foremost. The relationship he holds with you is still his most important one, and Theo knows better than anyone how seriously Mattheo takes that. Their entire tenure at Hogwarts, Mattheo watched over you like a hawk, keeping the dusty boys who dared to crush on you in their place. The fact that McLaggen, of all people, was able to slip through the cracks the second Mattheo and Theo were gone was a pain that haunted Mattheo for years. And though it was for completely different reasons, it haunted Theo too.
“Are you going to punch the first man who talks to her? For old times sake?” Theo asks, trying to bite back a smirk.
Mattheo laughs loudly, shaking his head.
“I’ve grown since our time at Hogwarts,” He defends himself. “I won’t punch them if they just talk to her…” He pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. “Now, if they look at her? Dead man walking.”
Theo shakes his head.
The room grows quiet as the two men continue to work. Theo’s mind wanders as he puts the stock away. When was the last time he saw you? Damn near a decade ago. It was the night of the battle. A few bottles of fire whiskeys had been procured, thanks to Mattheo and his mysterious ways of smuggling contraband into the school. It was the first get-together like this that they’d had in a long time… and, unbeknownst to them, it would be the last.
~
“There’s not enough fire whiskey in the world to make me go down those stairs with Theo.”
“You worried you’ll fall in love with him, Riddle?”
“I’m worried he’ll actually try to kiss me, is what I’m worried about.”
Theo laughed as he took another swig from the bottle, before saying, “In your dreams, Riddle.”
The group erupted with laughter as they sat in a circle on the upper balcony of the Astronomy Tower. Blaise, Daphne, Astoria, Pansy, and even Malfoy were all taking part. It was pretty late, but with the Death Eaters having their hold on Hogwarts, the Riddle heirs were given free reign, subsequently meaning their friends were given the same treatment. Which is why it was so easy for Mattheo to procure two bottles of fire whiskey, one of which already completely gone.
Theo’s stoic nature had been greatly diminished by the alcohol, his head swirling just enough to make him feel light and calm. Despite the juvenile feeling it gave him, the game of Seven Minutes in Heaven that started once the first bottle had emptied was quite entertaining, and had grown even more so when Mattheo took the last turn, and the bottle landed on none other than Theo.
“You know the rules, Mattheo.” Your voice sounded like honey when you chimed in from across the circle, sitting next to Pansy with your legs sprawled out in front of you. “You either have to go to the lower level with our friend Teddy here-“ Theo looked down at the ground, trying to hide his reaction to your nickname for him. “-Or you have to drink.”
Mattheo didn’t hesitate before snatching the bottle that still had liquor in it right out of Theo’s hand and putting the end to his mouth, dramatically throwing his head backwards. One, two, three giant gulps went down Mattheo’s throat, not a flinch in sight as he set it back down with a pleased look on his face.
“Don’t drink all of it, Matty,” Astoria pouted, reaching over and snatching the bottle from his grasp. Theo looked over at you, meeting your eyes at the exact moment that you looked over at him. Raising your hand, you pointed to your mouth and made a puke face. He bit back a smile before looking away from you.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Nott,” Mattheo said, ignoring Astoria’s comment as he nodded towards the empty bottle in the middle to indicate his friend’s turn at the game. Theo rolled his eyes as he leaned forward.
“I’d snog sandpaper before I’d let your cracked lips anywhere near mine.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the bottle spinning. The look on Theo’s face read nonchalance, but that didn’t match up with the pounding in his chest. It felt like he could hear the second hand of the clock tower ticking in the distance, though he knew it was too far away for him to actually hear it. As the bottle began to slow, Theo bit the inside of his cheek, and when it came to a stop, his teeth almost clamped down entirely.
You.
The universe and Merlin himself came together and had the bottle land on you.
Theo could feel his cheeks burning, not moving a muscle as his eyes trailed to Mattheo. The humor had completely drained from his curly haired friend’s face.
“Re-spin, Theo.”
Theo didn’t even have time to process Mattheo’s words, let alone answer, before you were already turning to face him.
“Why ask me to play if I can’t participate?”
This made Theo’s cheeks burn more, though no one could notice, their attention being on the altercation brewing between Mattheo and you.
“Because you’d bitch about it if I didn’t.”
“And you didn’t think I’d bitch about you bitching about me participating?”
Mattheo said nothing to his sister, instead turning his fierce gaze back to Theo.
“I’ll cut your fucking eyes out if you even think about it, Nott.”
As Theo opened his mouth to respond, you pushed yourself off the floor. The look on your face could be read as many different things; Defiance, anger, annoyance. But one thing was clear- you were not allowing Mattheo to have the final say.
“Come on, Theo.”
You put your hand out towards him. The conflict in his chest was rising rapidly as everyone stared at him, waiting for him to make his decision. Only two of those sets of eyes brought him the anxiety that coursed through him. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off Mattheo.
But he knew his choice before he even knew he had to make one. As soon as the bottle came to a stop, the deal was signed.
Reaching up, he took your hand and allowed you to pull him to his feet. Mattheo’s face was filled with a mix of rage and surprise as he watched you lead Theo away from the group.
“You better keep your fucking hands to yourself, Nott.”
“No promises, Matty,” You sneered without looking at Mattheo, as your foot hit the first step down. Theo’s eyes drifted to look over the railing that paralleled the stairs as the two of you began to descend, overlooking the castle and the Black Lake in the distance. His heart was in his throat once his feet reached the wooden floor.
The lower level of the balcony was used as storage. Surrounding the outer edges were fixtures covered in sheets that were held down with rope, presumably statues and pieces of furniture. Other miscellaneous things were also scattered around, such as a two seater bench that was split in two, a random assortment of stools, and abandoned cauldrons. In the middle of the ceiling was a glass globe fixture, the bottom half on the lower level while the top was displayed on the upper level. Along it was a metal lining that didn’t quite reach the walls, meaning there was enough of an opening for people to look down. When Theo looked up, he saw multiple sets of eyes staring down into the lower level, one of which was accompanied by angry shouts at him to Know your place, Nott and Don’t even think about it. Not a word could be said about it before you were flicking your wand in its direction. A flash of light flashed through the room, and suddenly, Theo couldn’t look through the openings anymore. Turning, you did the same to the staircase.
Theo looked at you in awe.
“Since when can you cast spells without speaking?”
You shrugged, as if it were a completely benign thing.
“I’ve been practicing.”
Theo stuffed his hands in his pockets as you sat down on a spare table off to the side. It was impossible for him not to look at you like you had just put the stars in the sky, but hell did he try not to.
“Maybe you should’ve been in Ravenclaw,” He commented, causing you to roll your eyes.
“You think I’d ever hear the end of it from that one?” You pointed to the ceiling, where loud footsteps and even louder voices could be heard from the other side. Theo laughed at this, his head craning backwards.
“I think you’d have killed him before finishing out first year, if that were the case.”
The tension in the air was palpable. Was it from Mattheo’s anger? Or Theo’s feelings? It was hard to say, but he found himself wondering if you felt it too. Before he could think too much about it, you spoke again.
“Sometimes I wish I had gotten put in another house, though. Instead of Slytherin.”
Theo froze. Of anything you could’ve possibly said, he never would’ve suspected… Well, that.
“Why?” He asked, tone soft.
You looked down at your hands, mindlessly pinching at your skin.
“It would make me think I was made for more than what my family has planned for me.” You sighed as your gaze met Theo once more. “I never wanted any of this. The special treatment from the Death Eaters and the constant fear. I don’t want it.”
Eyes narrowing slightly, Theo mulled over your words.
“Why would you, the daughter of Lord Voldemort, have anything to fear?”
You sat up a little straighter, pressing your lips together in a thin line.
“I know you’ve been working for him.”
Theo swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A beat passed.
“Didn’t I?”
You scooted down the table so now your feet touched the floor, more leaning on it than sitting, folding your hands in front of you. Theo’s eyes never left you as he studied your every move. The heat from your stare was making his palms sweat.
“You promised me you wouldn’t,” You reminded him. He closed his eyes. How could such a quiet part of the castle suddenly feel so loud? He couldn’t do this with you. Not right now. You wouldn’t understand.
“My father wanted me to become… acquainted with the family business,” He explained slowly. This didn’t seem to appease you.
“You could’ve talked to me. I would’ve figured something out,” You said. Was that annoyance in your voice? Or something else? “Maybe my father doesn’t take Mattheo seriously but he would’ve listened to me if I asked him not to send you on errands.”
Theo shook his head, his eyes drifting to the floor just briefly. “It’s too late now.”
The words hung in the air for a moment too long. Theo watched as a thought seemed to pop into your head, the expression on your face changing from mildly frustrated to downright terror. You slowly pushed away from the table. There was something about the way you were looking at him, with your lips slightly parted and your eyes filled with confusion, that made him feel sick.
“Theo… did you take the Mark?”
~
The Christmas party is too reminiscent of one of the Slytherin common room parties. The music is too loud. The people are too drunk. And Theo is too fucking old for this.
He squeezes down a random hallway of Malfoy Manor, narrowly missing Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood as they make out against the wall. Try he does to not give them a passing glance, albeit a confused one, but radically does he fail.
Time really is a funny thing, He thinks to himself. Changes people in ways no one could ever understand.
Theo’s arrival at the party was as anticlimactic as he wanted it to be. In the hour since he walked through the door, he can count on less than ten fingers how many familiar faces he saw, and he only needed one hand to count how many people he’s spoken to.
Though Draco is the only Malfoy living in the mansion now, save his wife, it still looks exactly the same as it did when they were kids. Theo remembers the summers away from Hogwarts spent roaming these halls with Draco, Mattheo and you. The weeks and weeks at a time spent here after his mother died and his father made it clear he didn’t understand how to be a father. If it weren’t for Narcissa Malfoy, Theo can’t imagine the man he would be now. He feels it in his heart every time he walks by a picture of her, her tender eyes and sweet smile looking back at him. The closest thing to a mother he ever had.
You should write to her more, He thinks to himself.
Theo enters the kitchen, with his hand almost on the knob of the back door, when a voice stops him.
“Theodore Nott! Hi!”
He turns to find Astoria Greengr- Malfoy looking at him with a wide smile. It hasn’t been too long since he had last seen her, although it’s enough time for her to have a swollen pregnant belly this go around. Her wedding to Malfoy was small and rushed, as it wasn’t long after him, Theo and Mattheo had returned from their time away, but her smile is the same now as it was that day.
She waddles up to Theo, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he plants a quick kiss on her cheek.
“You alright, Tori?” His voice is gentle in a way that it never was with Astoria. It has to be the pregnancy causing him to be nicer. The fact remains that he and Astoria historically never got along, and while he would never outwardly be mean to her, especially now as the wife of one of his best mates, he didn’t go out of his way to be nice to her, either. Which is why at the wedding, he didn’t intentionally avoid her that entire evening. He just simply didn’t go out of his way to speak to her. The wad of cash he left in an envelope on the gift table that evening spoke for itself, in his humble opinion.
Astoria shrugs casually, before saying, “Just running around, as usual. What have you been up to since-“ She cuts off, swallowing as the smile on her face falters ever so slightly. It’s obvious to anyone what she was about to say and even more so that it was meant to remain a thought in her head and never pass her lips. But it’s too late for that now, as the ghost of the words unsaid still hang in the air above them. Theo sighs as he turns to the kitchen island, which is buried in alcohol bottles, and begins to pour himself a drink. A strong one.
“You can say it, Tori.”
She still hesitates before it comes out in a barely audible whisper.
“Since Azkaban?”
There it is.
Theo doesn’t even blink. The word is so casual to him now, so recurrent in his daily thoughts that it’s almost chronic. Though, his teeth still grow cold as the memories of the brutally cold air flood through him.
“Oh, you know,” He manages to answer. “Mattheo and I started the bar in Hogsmeade. I’m sure you heard all about that. Have a cottage now, not too far from there.” He hums in thought. “Got a cat. She’s a bloody shit, but I love her.”
All of this seems to surprise Astoria, and Theo didn’t blame her. He wasn’t the same boy she knew back at Hogwarts. He never would be again. All of the fire and fight that he had back then was snuffed out in the years he was locked away. Now, some days it feels like he is a shell of his former self.
“What’s her name? Your cat?”
Theo smiles brightly, as if he was being asked about his own child.
“Crisp.”
Astoria stifles a laugh.
“Crisp?”
“She’s a black cat, so she looks like she’s... burnt to a crisp.”
Astoria pauses for a second before breaking into a smile and laughing out loud, the sound filling the kitchen. It gives Theo deja vu, reminding him of the days in the common room where he’d hear it and cringe. The thought makes him feel a little bad. Only a little though.
“That’s funny,” She remarks, still coming down from the high of it as she carefully wipes her eyes. Theo smiles politely, glancing at the back door before turning back to Astoria. What the hell does he say now? He already knows what’s going on with her. It’s popping out of her dress.
“Erm… Is Mattheo here yet?”
Astoria perks up at the sound of his best friend’s name, her eye developing a twinkle that wasn’t there before. Something about it makes Theo a little sad. Though her love for Draco was true, Astoria always held a torch for Mattheo. Everyone knew it. Even Draco, who still ended up marrying her in the end. Mattheo just never felt the same pull to Astoria that she felt for him. And though he never talked about it with Theo, he couldn’t help but wonder if that thought ever made Mattheo feel guilty.
Just as quick as it came, the spark in Astoria’s eye disappears and is replaced with… something Theo can’t quite place.
“They’ll be here any minute,” Astoria finally answers with a slight smirk. Theo feels his heart swell. The use of they instead of he was not lost on him.
Nodding, Theo turns his body toward the back door, his gaze still on Astoria.
“Good talking to you, Tori.”
She gives him a look, another one that he just can’t read, which is starting to frustrate him, before smiling softly at him.
“I’ll send erm… Mattheo your way when he gets here.”
He nods once more, giving her a final half cooked smile before letting himself out into the back courtyard.
The circular courtyard is centered with a large fountain, the centerpiece being a dragon. Shrubbery and flowers of different shapes and sizes line the edges. Theo walks the pebbled pathways with the same familiarity that he would walk the Hogwarts grounds. He knows every turn, every bench, every scuff mark on the brick walls like the back of his hands. As he sips on his drink, he finds himself reminiscing on the reverie of being a young kid, running down these same paths with his closest friends. So many memories made on this very plot of land. Mattheo falling and cracking his head on the side of the fountain and Draco trying to use a spell to fix it, only to make it worse. Theo picking the roses off one of the many rose bushes to give to you, then the scolding he received after. All of the cigarette butts that he and Mattheo were forced to clean up when Narcissa would discover them. Probably thousands of cigarette butts between the two of them. But they never learned to find a container for them. It seems like it was a whole lifetime ago. Maybe it was.
Theo passes beyond the shrubbery to walk the trails that line the estate. It never gets old, walking through the pine trees. Muscle memory carries his legs towards his favorite spot on the whole lot. He tries to remember the last time he’d walked this route, but he can’t. Which means it’s been too long.
The bench comes into view, the huge oak tree still standing guard behind it. If the sun was out, it would provide the perfect shade, regardless of the time of day. Surrounding it are multiple rose bushes, a Narcissa Malfoy addition. Theo used to spend many hours at this bench, reading or losing himself in thought. It has always been a sanctuary to him, even now, after all these years.
Sitting down, he inhales slowly before letting it out in a long drawl. Being here again feels like coming home for the first time since his release from Azkaban. There’s only one thing that could make it perfect…
Damn, I wish I had a cigarette, He finds himself thinking.
Okay, maybe two things could make it perfect.
“Thought I’d find you out here.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.
He would’ve never expected the sight of you to be accompanied by the smell of cigarettes, yet here you are, slowly walking down the path with a freshly lit smoke in your hand. A slight smile fills your cheeks as you look at him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The word runs through his brain like a news headline on the television. It never occurred to him that you could get more stunning. The familiar feeling of his palms growing sweaty hits him, and he instinctively wipes them on his jeans.
“Since when do you smoke?”
You take a long drag, holding your breath before blowing a cloud into the air above you. In the back of Theo’s brain is the sound of you relentlessly nagging him to quit, a treatment you curiously only saved for him and did not share with your brother.
“D’you want to hear something silly?” You ask him. He shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes jumping up to the night sky. “I found myself missing it. The smell. Can you believe that?”
A laugh bursts from Theo’s chest.
“No,” He admits. “With the way you went on about it? If you weren’t smoking in front of me right now, I would never believe you.”
Shaking your head, smiling, you slowly make your way towards him.
“Mattheo was so angry when he found out,” You say. “And he, apparently, is smoke free now. I’m not even allowed to smoke near him. After all the years he was perfectly fine with giving me secondhand lung cancer!” You roll your eyes. “I only smoke every once in a while, though. Nothing like the two of you did, fucking chimneys.”
Theo stands as you approach the bench, his hands in his pocket. You waste no time before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. As he snakes his arms around your torso, his eyes flutter shut. You smell exactly the same, save for the new addition of the cigarette smoke. And you still make his stomach turn with every touch. He kisses the side of your head before pulling away, unable to contain the smile that forces its way across his cheeks.
“You weren’t at the wedding.”
Pursing your lips, you look away from him.
“I, unfortunately, was otherwise engaged.”
There’s something cryptic behind your words, and it doesn’t sit well with him.
“What does that mean?” He asks. From his recollection, even Mattheo didn’t know why you had bailed on such an important event. Being one of his longest friends, Draco was distraught by your absence.
“It means that I don’t want to tell you why I couldn’t go,” You inform him. His eyes narrow slightly.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’ll be angry. And I’m not interested in starting our reunion out that way.”
A cool breeze blows through the air, but Theo isn’t convinced that it’s the cause of the chill that flows through him.
“How do you know I’ll be angry?” He questions, although hesitantly. You give him a look.
“Because I know you. You’ve been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember. I could be blindfolded and still pick you out just by the sound of your breathing. And I know what will make you mad.” You take another drag of the cigarette, the smoke filling the air with your sigh. “This will.”
The debate in Theo’s head is intense. On one hand, with how cryptic you’re being, he wants to know what the reason was. Just the way you said it has a fire flaring in his chest. But on the other hand, you're right. He’d rather not plague the reunion that he’s been thinking about for the last decade with anger. Not when he doesn’t have to. Not while you’re looking at him like that, with a warm smile and even warmer gaze. Before he has the chance to decide how to go forward, you make the choice for him.
“Let me take a look at you,” You say, taking a step back and looking him up and down. Internally, Theo prays that his cheeks don’t reflect on the outside the heat they feel on the inside, as your eyes trail from the top of his head to his feet.
“You still look like my Theo. Except for this.” Stepping forward, you bring a hand to his left cheek, your fingers resting on his jaw as your thumb grazes the beard growing on his face. Theo holds his breath, because he knows if he exhales, you’ll hear the shudder. When you let your hand drop, left behind is the feeling of ice where your warm fingertips had been. You shake your head. “Certainly don’t look like an ex-convict.”
Theo’s next words leave his mouth before he has time to think them through.
“You certainly don’t look like a newly divorced woman.”
As soon as the words enter the atmosphere, Theo’s face falls, and he wants to insert his foot in his mouth. It wasn’t meant to be the insult it sounded like when he said it. But to his astonishment, you just smile, looking up at the sky as you shake your head.
“It was never going to last with Cormac,” You tell him. “Our divorce was written in the stars. I knew that. I don’t know if he knew that, but I did.”
Theo’s gaze drifts to the ground before looking back up at you. The question he wants to ask is running on repeat in his mind, as he goes back and forth on whether or not to even say it.
Fuck it.
“Why did you marry him?”
You flinch slightly, to Theo’s dismay. The last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. At the same time, he went all these years wondering how someone like you could be with someone like Cormac Fucking McLaggen, the same Cormac Fucking McLaggen that you and him spent hours and hours collectively making fun of back in school, and he couldn’t go without finding out any longer.
“He was there and-“ You stop abruptly, closing your eyes briefly before opening them again. He can practically see you rearranging your thoughts. “And no one else was.”
Theo raises an eyebrow.
“You didn’t think you deserved or could find anyone better?”
You laugh suddenly, confusing Theo, before you respond.
“I knew I could find someone better,” You say. “He was just intended to be… a placeholder. Just to pass the time.” You sigh. “He ended up being a shitty placeholder, and more work than was necessary. That was my fault. I got complacent.”
The more you explain yourself, the more Theo grows confused. He wants to yell at you, to tell you to just say what you mean. But he doesn’t.
“A placeholder?” He asks quietly. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”
For a moment, you don’t say anything, taking another drag from your cigarette and blowing the smoke into the air. Theo watches you, so tempted to ask you for one, but he’s so wrapped up in the conversation that he can barely breathe, let alone speak.
“It means he was there, I was lonely and I was waiting for something better.”
Theo’s eyes are fixed on every move you make, his whole body turning to watch you sit down on the bench. As he tries to sort through his racing thoughts to find a coherent one, you take another drag of the cigarette, looking around at the roses. He takes a seat to the right of you.
“What were you waiting for?”
You don’t answer as you turn to look at him. Just the look on your face drives Theo crazy. Not once would he ever say that you remind him of your father, but your ability to move through a conversation with ease and manipulation is uncanny. He’s convinced that the word discomfort isn’t in your vocabulary. If a topic comes up that you don’t want to talk about, you simply twist the conversation back to exactly where you want it to be. And Theo, a person who knows you better than most, can tell just by the way you’re looking at him right now that you’re about to do what you do best. And he’s going to let you.
It’s the way you do it this time around, however, that comes as a surprise.
Your gaze drops to his left arm at his side, his hand resting on his knee. With a delicate touch, you reach over and take it between your fingers, slowly rising the sleeve up his arm as Theo, once again, forgets how to breathe entirely.
~
“I won’t ask you again, Theodore. Did you take the Dark Mark?”
The sound of his full name coming out of your mouth made his heart stop. Theo swallowed hard, whispering your name under his breath so quietly that a gust of wind could’ve drowned it out.
You charged towards him, grabbing his arm and yanking up the sleeve of his hoodie before he could even process that you had moved. There, in its glory, was the fresh mark, branded so recently that the skin surrounding it was still tender.
A strangled whimper escaped your mouth before you forcibly threw Theo’s arm away from you, as if it had burned you. Covering your mouth, you turned away from him, taking a couple of steps towards the table you had been sitting on only moments before. Nausea overwhelmed Theo as he stared at you. He followed your footsteps and reached out for your arm, only to have it yanked back the moment his fingers curled around your bicep. The gesture sent a ripple of pain through Theo’s chest.
“Please let me explain-“
“How could you do this!?” You shouted, whipping around to face him. The sight of the tears streaming down your face shredded his heart more than your words ever could. “We talked about this, Theo. I told you not to take the mark. Not to waste your life. How could you do this to yourself? Hell, how could you do this to me?”
I can’t do this, Theo thought to himself. I can’t.
The way your eyes were a careful mix of anger and devastation was too much for Theo. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to make you stop looking at him like that, and it was very rare for him to want you to stop looking at him at all. But he knew that the one thing that could make you relax once again was the one thing he couldn’t give you. He took another step towards you, saying your name again. When you took a step backwards, he felt like the floor was going to open up and swallow him whole.
“This is more than getting acquainted with the family business!” Your chest heaved as you spoke. “This is getting integrated.”
“I have just as much ability to say no to my father as you and Mattheo have to say no to yours!” He shouted desperately. “There was nothing I could do. You, of all people, have to understand.”
You vigorously shook your head. “No, Theo. I don’t. I would’ve done anything to stop this from happening.” The pain that dripped from your words was splattered on your face. Theo wanted to throw up just looking at your expression, each word feeling like another punch to the face.
“What would you have wanted me to do?” He asked, his voice now level but strained while taking another step forward. “Tell me. Tell me what you would have had me do.”
Your eyes were wide and filled with fear. Another cold breeze came through the cracks in the balcony walls. Instead of taking a step back when Theo stepped forward, you stood still, staring up at him as your chest continued to heavily rise and fall.
“Anything.” Your voice was a coarse whisper. “Literally anything else.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” He didn’t mean to shout at you again, but his head felt so foggy from the whole thing, he couldn’t think straight. The sadness in your eyes was destroying him in ways he would never understand.
“There’s always a fucking choice!” You shouted back.
“I-“
Theo was quickly cut off but your rapid speaking.
“We could’ve run. We could’ve fled together. Just you and me. Anywhere. Maybe to Italy so you could be close to the memory of your mother. Or to somewhere totally new, like Brazil. Or Japan. We could’ve escaped this together if you had given me the chance to help you. To save you.”
It would’ve hurt less if you had actually cut his chest open and ripped his heart out with your bare hands instead of doing it figuratively like you just had. He let out a shaky breath, his entire body going stiff.
“You don’t mean that,” He said quietly. “Just leave Mattheo? And your fam-“
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, Theodore.”
He flinched at the subsequent use of his full first name.
Theo stood frozen as he watched you press your hand over your eyes, inhaling deeply before letting it out just as hard. Your warm breath turned into a cloud of steam dissipating in front of you from the cold air. He took another step towards you, the distance dwindling.
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” He said softly. The pleading in his tone could be heard for miles.
You stood silent for a long time, your hand covering your eyes. With every passing moment where you didn’t speak, Theo grew more anxious. The silence between the two of you was just as loud as if you were screaming at the top of your lungs. But if Theo was being honest with himself, he’d rather you scream and shout at him. That's what he was used to. But the stunned silence? This was something that, in all the years of knowing and learning everything he could about you, he had never seen. It was too much for him to bear.
When he whispered your name again, you shook your head. The motion caused a pain in his chest so severe that he worried his heart would stop entirely. In a daring moment, he took a step forward, delicately pulling your hand from your face and tilting your head upwards to look at him.
“Please.” Theo did nothing to hide the pain and desperation in his tone. His hands moved to cradle your cheeks. “Please tell me what to do. And I’ll do it.”
Your eyes were wide as you stared into his. The world seemed to screech to a halt at this moment. The wind that had been haunting the balcony for the entire night stilled. The crickets went dead quiet. Theo’s thumbs stroked the skin of either side of your face.
Against his better judgment, despite the severity of the situation he and you find yourselves in, the proximity to you caused his eyes to instinctively jump down to your mouth.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you do the same.
As you opened your mouth to speak, an overwhelming pain radiated through Theo’s left arm. His hands dropped from your face as he stepped backwards, blowing out a hiss through his teeth as he gripped his forearm tightly. Your mouth pressed into a firm line, as you understood before he did what was about to happen. The noises from upstairs picked up again at the same moment, and in the distance, Theo could hear his name being shouted.
You quickly turned with your wand, removing the barrier you had created around the stairs. The shouting instantly grew louder, and suddenly, Mattheo appeared at the top of the steps. The anger he previously had was gone, replaced with another look that sent chills down Theo’s spine.
Fear.
He didn’t regard you at all. His eyes were focused on Theo.
“We have to go.”
Theo swallowed hard as Mattheo stared down at him.
“He’s here.”
~
The deja vu hits Theo hard as you roll his sleeve up.
Though your expression doesn’t change, he can feel the way your fingers relax against his skin when you find that the Mark is nowhere to be seen. Seeing his bare arm brings him great relief as well, even though he’s seen it this way every day since its removal.
“They removed it when we got to Azkaban,” He explains quietly. “They thought we could communicate through it or something.”
Your thumb trails up and down his skin in the same area the Mark had been. Theo’s eyes are glued to the motion, following your movements.
“That night haunted me for years.”
Your words send a chill up his spine so intense that he can’t hide the shiver that ripples through him. Swallowing hard, his eyes jump back to your face, studying your features.
“Me too.”
The sound of the crickets chirping fills the night air, along with the very distant music coming from the manor. Your eyes find Theo’s again, although your hand doesn’t let go of his arm.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” You say, voice quiet, yet not quite a whisper. “If I had known what was about to happen, and that it could’ve been our last interaction, I wouldn’t have acted the way I did.”
“If anyone should be sorry, it should be me.”
You give him a look.
“Please. Don’t. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now.”
Theo glances down at your hand on his arm, pulling away so he can in turn take your fingers in his. The two of you look down as Theo turns your fingers around in his hands, as if he’s examining them.
“If you knew then what was about to happen…” You asked slowly. “What would you have done differently?”
Theo’s face grows warm.
“Honestly?”
Though his gaze stays cast downwards, he can still feel the warmth of yours as it jumps to his face once more.
“Always.”
For a moment, no one moves or speaks. Then, Theo entwines his fingers through the spaces between yours, curling them down so the tips press softly against the dorsal aspect of your hand.
“I would’ve kissed you.”
If your breath didn’t hitch in your throat, Theo would think you didn’t react at all. He glances back up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his thumb running up and down the smooth skin of your hand. What a perfect night for a party, the night of the full moon. The moonlight dimly hits your face but it’s still enough to make his heart flutter.
“I would’ve let you.”
It takes everything in Theo to not kiss you right there. The moment he has been waiting all these years for is finally here, dropped in his lap. But he can only kiss you for the first time once, and it has to be perfect.
Theo glances down at your mouth. It’s just a moment away, and he’s counting down the seconds.
“I would’ve told you that I was in love with you too.”
The shock breaks through your face this time, as Theo squeezes your hand a little tighter.
“I would’ve said the same.”
Nights of dreaming of this moment in his Azkaban cell seem to fill his memory as your words hit Theo like a monsoon. He raises his free hand and brushes the free strands of hair away from your face.
“What about now?” He asks in a soothing whisper. “Would you say the same now?” What shocks him is when you laugh, but he tries not to let it falter his resolve.
“Theo,” You say, the laughter gone but the genuine look of amusement still present. “Why do you think I needed a placeholder?”
A beat passes.
Theo’s lips crash into yours.
And despite having been out of Azkaban for a while now, despite his reunion with his sanctuary at Malfoy Manor, he’s finally, completely, come home.
Every repressed feeling Theo has ever felt in the last decade is surged through the kiss and into you. All of his desperation, his yearning, the fiery love that never got snuffed out. It felt like his heart just knew that he’d see you again, and the love he felt was carefully packed away in a box, left to grow until the reunion had arrived.
The cigarette you had been holding is now forgotten on the pathway. Your hands weave through Theo’s hair as he has one hand on your cheek, the other firmly placed on your hip. The world around you and him is still. Did the crickets go home? Is the party over? All sounds have gone mute, minus the sounds of your quiet hums as Theo’s tongue searches your mouth. You scoot closer to him, your knee going between his in an effort to get as close to him as possible.
“Fucking despicable this is.”
Theo and you jump away from each other, shocked to see Mattheo approaching with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
“Out of everyone in this party, you pick him?” He goes on. “In my opinion, you could do better.”
You scoff.
“Name one person that you’ve ever met who you thought was good enough for me and I’ll chew my wrist off.”
Almost a whole minute passes before Mattheo speaks again.
“Touché.”
Theo bites back a smile. You point at Mattheo before saying, “Wait a minute. You said you don’t smoke anymore!”
Mattheo shrugs as he blows a plume of smoke into the air.
“This party killed that.”
“You arsehole. You gave me such a hard time for doing it.”
“Your excuse was a bloody weak one. ‘I miss the smell’. Shut the fuck up.”
“Forgive me for missing my brother and wanting to feel close to him!”
Mattheo’s gaze slides to Theo, then down to his fingers entwined with yours.
“Yeah. I’m sure you were thinking of me when you
took your first drag.”
You roll your eyes, turning back to Theo as you try and fail to hide the smile on your cheeks. Just the sight of you alone was sending Theo’s heart into overdrive.
Mattheo plops down in the space next to you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Just try to give it some time before you rush off and get married, yeah?” Mattheo says before taking another hit. “Don't come off desperate like our lovely hosts in there.”
“Oh, you’re actually going to keep your mouth shut about me being with a guy this time?” You challenge him. Even Theo looks at his best friend curiously, semi shocked by his response.
“Yeah, I don’t have the energy to give a rat’s fart.”
Your hand still in Theo’s, he feels you give his a squeeze.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His heart flutters.
He knows what you’re saying without a single word passing your lips.
He repeats the gesture back to you.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Mattheo and you continue to go back and forth as Theo sits by quietly, his thumb stroking the top of your hand. Eyes fluttering closed, he takes a deep breath, soaking in the cool evening air.
This is it.
Home at last.
2K notes · View notes
atsumutu · 1 year
Text
“Hajime, are you bored?”
The raven haired man peers up from his phone, instantly locking the device and pocketing it when he sees the concern etched across your face.
Shaking his head, Iwaizumi gives you a gentle smile. It only takes him a few steps to reach you. “No, just checking my emails.”
Unconvinced, you rest a palm on his chest. It wasn’t like you had forced the man to come out with you. Ever the attentive boyfriend, Iwaizumi had made it his mission to spend some time with you after a hectic few weeks of work - even if that meant spending the day following you into countless stores.
“Are you sure? I know this isn’t really your thing.” you mumble, gesturing lamely at the store.
“Baby, no.” he plants a soft kiss on your temple. “I love spending time with you. Even if it means becoming your personal bag holder.” Iwaizumi lifts an arm, biceps curling underneath his t shirt as he lifts a plethora of shopping bags with ease, 90% of the contents belonging to you.
He watches the way your eyes draw towards his muscle and with the tiniest lift of his lips, he whispers. “I’m starting to think you only bring me along so you can have me carry your bags and ogle me.”
Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his chest. “You’re the one who always insists on coming with me and carrying all my bags.”
Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure?
Scoffing, you offer no solid denial, only a light push that does nothing to move the brute standing before you. Iwaizumi smiles down at you, endeared by the attempt.
“Seriously though, Hajime, I can go around by myself. Why don’t you go home and rest?”
Now he’s confused. It’s the second time you’ve tried to send him home and he’s racking his brain to see if he may have upset you somehow but he keeps coming up blank. Finally giving up, he decides to ask you.
“Why?” he squints his eyes playfully, “You got another man around to carry your stuff for you?” When you don’t respond to his joke, the raven furrows his brows. Calloused palms come to rest on your cheek. “I’m fine, love.”
And sure he looked fine, Iwaizumi was as tough as nails. But not even he could handle the crazy hours he had been working the last couple of weeks and you could tell he was close to running on fumes.
“Ha ha, very funny.” taking a hold of his wrist, you peer up at the man. “Let’s just go home. I think i’ve bought enough-“
“No.” He’s curt and the unexpected sharpness in his tone cuts you a lot deeper than he would have ever intended. You blink at his words, guilt, concern and a flash of hurt painting across your features. Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his forehead on your shoulder, groaning in what you guess is regret.
Your first instinct is to comfort him, so you do. Weaving your fingers through his dark tresses, you let him soak in your warmth.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I know, Haji.”
With a final sigh, he slumps back a step. “Shit, maybe I do need to get my ass home.” he chuckles half heartedly.
Humming, you take a step forward to reach him, mischief brimming in your tone. “Well if you’d just listened to me the first time I wouldn’t be here trying to calm down Mr Grumpy Pants himself.”
“Watch it.” he snipes, no real bite behind his words.
And in all your childish glory, you stick your tongue out at him.
Iwaizumi looks wholly amused. When was the last time someone stuck their tongue out at him? Then, he remembers who his best friend is and any trace of amusement is gone. “That Oikawa is a shitty influence on you.” he grumbles.
“Come on, let’s go.” you giggle, reaching for his free hand to lead him towards the exit.
“Hey,” he calls, softly tugging at your hands to halt your steps, “I love you.”
Despite the gruff texture of his voice, you would never tire of how softly those words would fall from his lips.
“I love you too.” lifting your entwined fingers up, you seal your words with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. “Now, can we finally go home?”
Iwaizumi smiles, fond. “Let's go home.”
4K notes · View notes
ambrozjas · 3 months
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the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎
the outsiders x reader (separate)
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.
darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.
“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.
darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.
“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.
“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.
“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”
“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.
“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.
“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.
one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.
“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”
soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.
“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“
“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.
you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.
“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.
“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.
you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.
“oh, no.”
“oh, yes.”
“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”
and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.
you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.
he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.
when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.
once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.
“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.
dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.
once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”
“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.
“tastes sweet.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”
“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.
“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.
“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.
“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.
“you do it too.”
“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.
“whatever you say, doll.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.
“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.
“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.
“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.
“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”
as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.
he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.
“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.
“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”
“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.
when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.
you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.
“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
564 notes · View notes
cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months
Note
GIRLIE I LOVED YOUR ATHENA DAUGHTER READER ‼️
also guess who’s back can i ask for a athena!daugter reader where it’s kinda like Annabeth trying to tell the reader that “hey clarisse is bad she tried to fucking kill percy she’s evil” and the reader us kinda tries to convince her that Clarisse really isn’t that bad😔
(i love your work girl and your end memes please do more 🔥‼️)
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She’s the only one I got
Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of Athena reader
An- fun-fact clarisse loves Dr Pepper It’s cannon Go read the sea of monsters. She’s literally perfect I can’t
An pt 2 - I Hope this is ok i wasn’t really sure what to write but it’s ok bc I’m just a girl
Pt 1 — Pt 2
Palestine aid link
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“Are you serious?!” Annabeth yelled, a few of your other siblings backing her up.
You however were standing infront of the full length mirror inside your cabin fixing your outfit which was a pair of bellebottoms and a camp sweater. “Look Annie i get your our counselor and your the smartest out of us all but your not the smartest when it comes to relationships”
“And now she’s starting to sound like an Aphrodite kid” Malcom your brother rolled his eyes before returning to his book. You shot him a hateful look. “All right fine Your right I don’t get relationships like you but I do know clarisse”
“Really?” You sarcastically spoke just wanting the argument to be over. Grabbing some hoops you were deciding between the two different pairs. “Yeah, Clarisse is a hateful arrogant and rude person. She makes fun of our cabin with her siblings and didn’t she use to make fun of you to”
Deciding on the star shape hoop you put the earring in. “Fine! Fine ok I get it but I promise you clarisse is not like that ok she’s sweet, she loves me Annie why don’t you get that” you sighed facing your sister.
The shorter girl crossed her arms, leaning against a desk inside the studious cabin. “Because she’s a bitch”
“Language!”
“I’m 12 why are you giving me shit for cussing you cuss”
“Because I’m 16 you’ve still got two years before you morally can curse now stop.. damn about to make me get Luke” you sighed shaking your head. Facing back to the mirror you analyzed your look.
Annabeth rolled her eyes looking away for some time before facing you once again. “I still don’t trust you being alone with her..”
After finally having enough you turned towards the wiser girl. “Know what fine you can spy on us during our date today, then you’ll see she’s not such a terrible person and you’ll finally get off my ass… deal” you crossed your arms looking down at annabeth.
Your younger sister looked around for a moment feeling somewhat threatened by you before nodding in defeat. “Great” you sighed stepping back, grabbing a small drawstring bag and a book on the stars, you threw on your shoes before leaving.
——
You were sitting in a clearing in the woods, a blanket set out with some strawberries and a pack of Dr Pepper you bought from the Hermes cabin. Annabeth was positioned behind a tree with her cap of invisibility on.
Eventually clarisse showed up. “Five minutes late” you jokingly chastised her.
“Shut up I’m on time” she scoffed sitting down beside you on the blanket. Pulling you into her some she kissed you softly. Her hands finding themselves on your waist
Bringing yourself back you leaned over grabbing a soda, handing it over to the curly haired girl. “Mmhm so how was running around like a fool for the entire morning?”
Clarisse rolled her eyes taking the drink In a harsh joking manner. “First of all its called training and secondly it was actually alot of fun, how was staying up all night to just watch some stupid dots in the sky”
Scrunching your nose at the girl you gave her a sarcastic look. “Yeah you think your so funny huh”
“Yeah I do”
“Mmhm” you knew clarisse was looking at your lips— she wasn’t subtle about it. Tired of her just imagining it you leaned in kissing her again. The playful banter between you two faded away while clarisse deepened the kiss
As much as you wanted to makeout with your girlfriend you weren’t doing it infront of your sister. Pulling back you placed a hand on clarisses arm while darting your eyes to some trees around you with a smile.
The girl furrowed her eyebrows but made a signal to her head almost mimicking a hat. Nodding you knew clarisse understood annabeth was spying on you two.
“Whatever this is stupid” clarisse gave you a teasing look. “What being on a date with your girlfriend? Yeah it’s so stupid” you responded in the same tone.
Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not. What I meant” shaking her head you watched as clarisse reached over to her spear grabbing a plastic bag.
Handing it over to you you looked inside. “No way clarisse did you”
“Yeah I did. Your not gonna embarrass me about it if I own up to it” she continued to mess with you. Opening the bag you smiled as your girlfriend made you chocolate chip cookies with the nymphs in the kitchen. “Your the sweetest you know” you becoming flustered while you looked at the treats.
She just rolled her eyes with a smile, laying down clarisse moved around to lay her head in your lap. “Woah careful clarisse you might admit you actually like me a boring Athena kid remember”
“Mmhm Same can be said about you what was that about me being a bitchy ares kid?” She bit back. Flicking her forehead lightly just to get back at her.
You smiled while playing with one of the girls curls. You loved clarisse, wanting to proudly say it but worried you’d scare the girl off so for now you’d settle on just this.. cute dates with her, sneaking into her cabin to spend the night with her and just enjoying the silence with her.
After some time you knew annabeth had left after all she had gotten all the proof she needed. Clarisse knew it to.
“I love you” it finally left your lips. You noticed clarisses body tense making you regret the decision immediately. Clarisse however grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I guess I love you to”
“Shut up”
“Why You Said you loved me”
——
Annabeth - Fine she’s not a bitch
Y/n - ANNABETH!
Clarisse - *having a Stare off with annabeth*
Clarisse - do we have a Problem
Y/n - dude..
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426 notes · View notes
hongcherry · 4 months
Text
you're my tomorrow | j.ww
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At first, you didn't think anything of it. Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer. However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.
☕️ Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader
☕️ Rating/Genres/AUs: PG; Fluff with a sprinkle of angst, slice of life; Strangers to lovers, cafe au, non!idol au
☕️ Warnings: Reader is smaller than Wonu, ultra soft boi and supportive wonu *swoons*... can't think of anything else but ofc lmk otherwise
☕️ Word Count: 5k
☕️ Author's Note: Thank you to @justsomekpopstuff for giving me this plot idea! I def got carried away and wrote way more than I thought I would lol. I hope you enjoy it! Everyone thank JJ for the storyline ✨ Also, thank you Jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) for beta'ing and giving me amazing suggestions for some edits! 💗
Happy holidays to all (if you celebrate)! Stay safe and have a nice time 💖
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
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Monday
When the door chimes a little after eight at night, you know it’s him.
He strolls in, usual glasses perched on his nose and jacket layered with a few specks of snow. His hair isn’t styled, soft waves adorning his head. He looks like the average person who’s winding down from a long day at work. From the two and a half months you’ve known him, this is his usual state on Monday nights.
Wonwoo entered your cozy bookstore café nearly three months ago. His order rarely varies, and sometimes he orders a drink he could get anywhere else. Yet, for some reason, he always comes here.
And throughout those months, you’ve realized you always look forward to his presence.
“Busy evening?” he asks while stepping up to the counter.
You’re in the middle of packing a pastry for another customer and quickly hand off the bag to your coworker.
“More so than usual; it’s finals week,” you reply with a small smile.
Wonwoo glances around, nodding as he takes in the sight of many tables occupied by people with textbooks, laptops, and notes scattered around them.
“I don’t miss those days,” he chuckles.
“I don’t either,” you agree. “So, what can I get you today?”
Wonwoo peers up at the menu behind you. You wonder why he does so since he usually rotates between three drinks.
“A hot chocolate,” he replies.
“Oh?” You can’t hide your surprise.
He grins, tilting his head slightly. “Should I have ordered something else?”
“No!” you hastily say. “You can order whatever you want.”
He pulls out a bill that exceeds the cost of the order and slides it to your side of the counter.
“Just thought I’d try something new for the holidays,” he explains, then leaves to find a seat.
“Wait!” you call out, bill in your hand. “You paid too much!”
If Wonwoo can hear you, he pretends he doesn’t. He continues his journey and ends up in the corner next to a window by the bookshelves. He retrieves a book from his bag, opening it where his bookmark rests.
Your hand falls to the counter with a heavy sigh. You guess you’ll give him his change when you give him his order. Normally, you’d call customer’s names or numbers for pick-up. But Wonwoo is different.
Wonwoo’s one of the rare customers who gets his order hand-delivered.
After completing the transaction in the system and making his drink, you grab his change from the register and walk to his table.
“One hot chocolate,” you announce and set the cup down along with his change.
“I’ll take the drink,” he says and brings it closer, blatantly ignoring the cash next to it.
“Wonwoo,” you say.
“Yn,” he answers, eyes flickering up.
There’s a small smirk on his lips that makes your insides churn.
“You overpaid,” you simply state.
“So?”
You move his money closer. “So, take it back.”
Wonwoo slides the money back to you. “Consider it a tip.”
“You know we don’t take tips here,” you say, moving it again.
“You should. You all work hard.”
“People are already struggling as is. If they can find solace in a little place like this, that’s all that matters.”
Wonwoo rests his hands on top of yours, which is still on the money, and slides it back to you.
“Then consider it a holiday present. From me to you,” he smiles.
His hand feels warm on yours. Your eyes move down, but you wish you hadn’t.
His large hand nearly covers yours, making you feel small yet protected. You can tell from his build that he’s strong and fit. You wonder what it’d be like to get a hug from him.
“I—” you struggle to speak.
“It’d make me happy.”
You sigh, nodding hesitantly.
He slowly removes his hand. “Thank you.”
“N-No problem,” you say, gathering the change and pocketing it. “Enjoy your book and drink.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo replies and picks up his book. He holds it up with one hand and uses the other to sip his hot chocolate.
You make your way back to the front, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on your hand and the feeling in your chest.
Tuesday
Wonwoo shows up at the same time but orders one of his usual drinks. It's a different book than yesterday and judging by the similar cover, it's probably the next one in the series.
Ever since Wonwoo “gifted” you money, you’ve been trying to think of something to get him. It’s a little tough considering you don’t actually know him. You know he works a duty-heavy job and that he lives nearby. You know he has a lot of friends despite him being so quiet. Although you’ve never seen Wonwoo and his friends in the same room, they often come with him to the café in duos or trios.
You also learned he’s an avid cat and gaming lover.
You were surprised about the latter.
“Is he also a student?” one of your new coworkers, Sebastian, asks thirty minutes after Wonwoo’s arrival.
You wipe off the cup in your hand and set it on the counter, calling the number associated with it.
“No, he graduated already,” you reply and watch him practice making a drink.
“You seem to know him. Are you two friends?” he wonders.
You lean against the counter. “I don’t think so. He’s just a regular here, so I’ve learned a few things here and there.”
“Ah,” he replies and hands you the finished drink.
You take the drink and start taking a sip to see how well he did.
“You should ask him out.”
You choke on the drink, eyes wide as you reach for a napkin to wipe your chin.
“T-That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you stammer.
He laughs and takes the drink from you. “He’s not working here, and it’s not like you’re paying for him to come by. I don’t see how it’s inappropriate.”
You sigh, knowing he has a point. It’s not that you’re not attracted to Wonwoo, but it feels almost out of line. Plus, you’re not sure if you like Wonwoo, or just like the thought of him. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and would be lying to say you don’t miss having a partner.
You miss being able to share life memories with someone.
Wonwoo’s handsome. He’s kind, funny, caring, and fit—not that that’s a big deciding factor, but it sure is a bonus. Though, do you just want someone with those attributes, or do you want him?
“Just think about it,” Sebastian suggests and greets a new customer.
Your eyes drop to your feet in thought.
Part of you worries you’d make it awkward if he says no. It’s not like you are friends, so you won’t be ruining a friendship, but you enjoy seeing his face every day. His simple presence is one of the highlights of your days.
Plus, you don’t even know if he has a partner already!
You groan, putting a hand over your forehead as you try to organize your thoughts.
“Bad night?” a familiar voice asks from over the counter.
You drop your hand to see who it is.
Wonwoo stands with his empty cup and saucer, book tucked under his arm.
“Ah, uh, not really,” you reply sheepishly. You can’t disclose the true reason for your state; you’ve never been the best liar either.
“Well, I hope whatever is troubling you passes soon,” he says and holds out his dirty dishes.
“You could’ve left them on the table,” you say, grabbing them from his grasp. Your fingers touch his, and it’s difficult not to feel like a silly teenager in the movies, especially with your current predicament.
“I know,” he smiles, “but I wanted to tell you bye, and you seem busy.”
You set the items in the sink before addressing him again. “Still… But thank you anyway.”
“The drink was great, as always.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, slowly stepping away from the counter.
You smile, nodding. “See you.”
His eyes linger on you before he turns and exits your café.
Wednesday
Wonwoo comes and goes as usual. It’s a busy night and you’re unable to speak to him much. It’s not the first time that has happened, so he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. Regardless, you wish you could’ve spoken to him more.
That night was spent browsing the internet for the perfect gift for Wonwoo.
From gaming headsets to the top-rated books on Goodreads, you felt like you scoured every possible present for him. But none of them satisfied you.
It wasn’t until you came across bookmarks in your recommended section that you decided what to get him.
Maybe a bookmark was too boring, but you figured it was the safer option.
You spend over an hour searching for the right bookmark, but again, you come up short. They’re either too flowery, too plain, or too cliché.
In the end, you opt for making your own.
You find some DIY bookmark kits online and place an order. Trying not to second guess your decision, you call it a night—going to sleep as you brainstorm what to put on the item.
Thursday
“Do people actually read these books?” Wonwoo asks during your break, which you decided to spend with him.
Your gaze follows his to the wall lined with several bookshelves.
You chuckle, “Sometimes.”
“You said you got these books donated?” he asks, recalling an earlier conversation you had when he was a newcomer.
“Most of them,” you hum.
“Does your offer still stand?” he asks.
You turn to him with puzzlement.
He smiles. “You said I could take a book if I left one.”
“Oh,” you laugh out of embarrassment for forgetting. “Of course.”
Wonwoo nods and then stands up. He takes two steps to his right, then carefully plucks a book from a high shelf. He replaces the empty space with his own book.
Something about the simple act has your heartwarming. Or maybe it’s the way he’s so gentle with the books as if they’ll cry if moved too aggressively. You wonder if he’d touch you as carefully, if given the chance. Would you find comfort in his caresses the way you think the books would if they were personified?
Wonwoo sits in his seat again, perching his glasses higher after they slide down.
“Have you read this?” he asks, twisting the book so the cover faces you.
You analyze it for a moment, but the title doesn’t ring a bell.
Shaking your head, “Unfortunately not. I haven’t had the chance to read in a long while.”
“I guess running a business is time-consuming,” he teases lightly.
“How do you find the time? Didn’t you say your work is hard, too?” you ask.
He leans back in his seat, book resting in his lap.
“I make time,” he simply says. “I found it’s important to make time for things I care about.”
He’s staring at you in a way that makes you think there’s more to his words than he lets on.
“T-That’s a good habit, I suppose,” you say.
“When was the last time you did something for yourself, and not the café?” he questions.
Your brows furrow in deep thought. You thought the answer would come easily, but it doesn’t.
“I—I can’t remember,” you answer with your gaze down, a little dejected at the self-reflection.
Wonwoo sits up and leans toward you. He lowers himself until he can snag eye contact.
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he reassures. “I know what it’s like to bury myself in my work.”
“You probably think I’m pathetic, huh?” you laugh awkwardly.
Wonwoo shakes his head.
“It’s good to be dedicated to something. Your efforts are clearly visible,” he gestures to your crowded café. “But at the same time, it’s also good to not burn yourself out.”
You nod in agreement. “I’ll try to be better.”
“Not for me though. For you,” he says.
You offer him a kind smile that he returns. “For me.”
Friday
Wonwoo doesn’t come at his usual time.
You finally finished his gift last night and are eager to show it to him. You try to suppress your excitement, but it’s difficult to calm your mix of emotions.
As you made it, you realized it was the first time doing something non-work related. Usually, you’d be researching new recipes, doing finances, or simply sleeping. Last night, however, you were doing something personal.
Wonwoo’s words from yesterday ring loudly in your ears.
It felt good to take a break from work.
It felt good to feel like an actual person and not some workaholic machine.
Some say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe you’d still be stuck in your cycle, if not for him.
You wish he were here. 
Wonwoo’s usually a punctual man, so being this late sends uneasy nerves coursing through you. But, the idea of him not showing up at all is even more worrisome. 
Perhaps he’s working overtime and will be here soon. He’s never missed a day.
Yet, as minutes turn into hours, you begin losing hope.
Excitement transitions into worry. This isn’t his typical behavior. You don’t have a way to contact him either.
Is he hurt? Does he need help? Did you say something wrong yesterday? Did he finally decide he doesn’t like your café anymore?
Perhaps you’re too caught up with giving him your gift that you’re overreacting. It could simply be a late, late night at work for him.
He’ll be here.
Even if he just grabs his drink to go, which he’s done in the past, he’ll be here.
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The bell chimes as your last coworker leaves for the night.
Wonwoo’s present sat abandoned in your locker throughout your shift. There’s an odd discomfort in your chest as you stare at it now. 
You’re not sure if it originates from being unable to gift it and see Wonwoo’s reaction, or if it’s because he never showed up.
Probably a combination of both, but more so the latter.
It’s uncanny to not see Wonwoo every day.
You had never thought about how you’d feel if you didn’t see him constantly. He was just always there. Always so reliable that you didn’t feel the need to consider what if.
What if he stopped showing up? What if you never saw him again? What if he no longer was a constant in your life?
You swallow the lump forming in your throat.
It’s a harsh reality to know he’s not required to visit. He can leave any time he wants. He can stop visiting your bookstore café at any moment.
There’s a strange thought about you not being good enough for him. Though, you’re not sure what that has anything to do with his absence.
Why would it matter if you weren’t good enough for him? He didn’t come to the café for you.
Did he?
If it was you he wanted, couldn’t he ask you out? Perhaps not as a romantic date, but as friends?
He never has, so he must not want to know you beyond the café. Meaning, he doesn’t come to it solely for you.
But, what changed for him not to show up tonight?
Unsettled with your thoughts, you decide to distract yourself with the final tasks you have to do before you leave.
However, the ride home is filled with more endless thoughts about Wonwoo.
Saturday
You come to work with less bounce in your step than usual.
The world outside seems dimmer. It feels as if the skies are going to be consumed with clouds and rain is going to fall. However, a storm was not in the weather’s forecast.
“Are you getting sick?” Sebastian asks.
You force a smile onto your face for the customer in front of you, handing them their order before looking at your coworker.
“No, why?” you wonder.
“You don’t seem well. Did you not sleep well last night?”
You wish you had, but you tossed and turned constantly. You didn’t think Wonwoo’s absence would affect you so much, but your mind kept wandering to every possibility for his no-show. In the end, you just gave yourself a headache.
“No,” you sigh, “but don’t worry about me.”
You try to smile again, but you’re sure Sebastian can see through it.
“Want me to close up tonight?” he offers.
“Don’t you have a big essay due tomorrow?” you question, remembering how stressed he sounded a few days ago.
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ll be fine,” you insist.
Huffing, he nods and grabs the cup from your hand. “Then go rest for a bit while I finish these orders.”
You purse your lips, contemplating arguing. In the end, you relent, moving to the backroom’s couch and plopping down.
You’ve been scrolling through your phone for ten minutes when you hear a familiar voice.
“Is Yn not here today?”
“Oh, she’s not feeling well, so she’s taking a break. Is there something wrong with our service?” Sebastian answers politely.
You shove your phone in your pocket and head to the door. There’s a small window that you peep out of.
You catch a glimpse of Wonwoo’s frown before he speaks again.
“No, everything’s fine. Will you tell her I hope she feels better?” he asks.
Sebastian nods slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can see the cogs turn in his head.
“Oh! Ooh! You’re that guy.”
Wonwoo looks confused.
“I’m sorry?” Wonwoo replies.
“The guy that always comes in—”
Not trusting Sebastian to keep his matchmaking attempts at bay, you push through the door.
“Wonwoo,” you greet, trying not to seem too eager that he's here today even though you are.
Wonwoo’s eyes drift past Sebastian to see you. Instantly, his mouth begins to lift.
“Hey, you,” he says lightly, sweetly. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”
“Ah, I’m fine. Seb’s just overreacting.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes at you in a glare.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds.
“I’ve rested enough,” you shoo with a hand.
“Ten minutes isn’t long enou—”
“Seb, do you mind attending to the customers behind Wonwoo?” you interject.
Sebastian eyes you before grumbling under his breath—something about you being stubborn—then greets the next customer.
You move down the counter to an empty space.
“What can I get you?” you ask Wonwoo.
He shakes his head. “Actually, I just wanted to talk today, if that’s okay. I won’t be long.”
You want to say he can take as much time as he wants, but you hold back.
Concern creeps from the shadows around you.
Is he going to tell you he’s leaving forever? Does he not like your drinks anymore? Did he find somewhere better? Someone better?
“O-Oh, yeah, okay,” you mumble and maneuver around the counter.
You lead Wonwoo to his usual corner, next to the window and the bookshelves. It’s a little quieter here.
You both take a seat from across each other.
You fidget in your seat, nerves making you angsty.
“Are you sure you feel okay?” he asks.
“Just tired, nothing to be worried about,” you smile.
Something in your chest warms at knowing he cares about your well-being.
“Hm. Alright,” he replies a little skeptically.
“Is everything okay with you?” You try to change the subject. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”
Your voice trails off, not wanting to show how concerned you were about his absence. However, Wonwoo can sense it regardless.
He smiles, though the small lift at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s amused with your attempt to hide your worry.
“Did you miss me?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen a bit. “I—Well. I just noticed you didn’t come because you always come, you know?”
He nods with a subtle smirk still on his lips, yet it fades after a few seconds.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come,” he apologizes sincerely. “One of my friends was in the hospital.”
Your heart drops and guilt kicks in. It’s not that you didn’t consider the possibility, but you had been more focused on him not liking you or the café.
“Goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. Are they okay?” you ask, frowning.
“He had to get surgery, but he’s fine. Just a little grumpy and whiny,” he chuckles.
You feel better hearing his small laughter.
“That’s better than being in pain, I guess,” you reply.
“Yes,” he concurs. He waits for a beat then continues, “I wanted to ask you a question.”
You tilt your head. 
A question. That sounds better than some statement about not seeing you again.
“Okay,” you say.
“When we last spoke, it was about you not having enough time for stuff outside of work,” he begins.
You nod to show you’re following but don’t cut in.
“Well, there’s this small event tomorrow. It’s nothing fancy, just some walking around. I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”
Your heart races as he speaks. You’re stumped for words. It’s as if you’ve subconsciously been waiting for this, but now that the time has come, you’re too nervous to answer.
“You can decline,” Wonwoo assures.
Although you’re anxious about the idea of meeting outside of the café, you don’t want to miss the opportunity.
“N-No! I mean, no, I don’t want to decline. What time? Where?” you hurriedly say before he can take back his offer.
He grins and holds out a small piece of paper.
You take it, turning it over to see scribbled numbers. You guess it’s his phone number.
“I can pick you up after work. You close early tomorrow, right?” he asks.
You nod, trying to hide your smile at him remembering your café hours. Though, since he visits frequently, you guess it shouldn’t be that surprising.
“Dress warm, okay?” he adds.
“Okay.”
Wonwoo stands from his seat, and you follow.
“Get some more rest tonight, Yn,” he says softly.
“Y-Yeah. I will,” you reply.
Although you’re no longer fretting over reasons for his no-show yesterday, you’ll be worrying about tomorrow now. Still, you’ll try to sleep—maybe even drink some tea or warm milk. You’ll try for him.
Sunday
Wonwoo comes to the café a few minutes before you close. He’s dressed in a fluffy hoodie layered with a light brown trench coat. He looks so…soft and warm.
Before you depart, you make a drink for each of you. He tries to pay but you profusely veto his offer.
The ride to the event is quiet except for the random music being played from his stereo. You’re unsure how long the ride is, but you don’t care. Even if you’re not speaking, it’s nice being with him in a new environment. It’s nice to see a different side of Wonwoo. And part of you hopes he likes seeing a different side of you too.
The event is free, but since donations are strongly encouraged, you and Wonwoo slip a few bills into the plastic reindeer before stepping onto the lit-up walkway.
People of all ages are enjoying the event. The walkway is wide enough to accommodate a couple of people at a time, but it’s still crowded. It forces you and Wonwoo to bump shoulders several times, and each time, you both apologize.
You notice a few minutes into the walk that he seems tenser than usual. You’re not sure of the reason, and he doesn’t seem inclined to disclose the answer.
You try to distract him by pointing out different features—from big blown-up Santas to mechanical reindeer moving up and down. However, it doesn’t seem too effective.
Wonwoo’s steps eventually begin to slow. He never comes to a complete stop, but with his slow speed, a lot of people pass by. Eventually, there’s a gap in the crowd and his body relaxes.
He must not be a fan of crowds.
“Can we sit for a bit?” you ask, not really needing to rest but there are picnic tables with fake candles on them nearby that are less crowded.
“Sure,” he says.
You guide him to an empty table and sit across from each other.
“Thank you for taking me here,” you smile while glancing around. “It’s so pretty.”
The area is filled with multitudes of holiday decor. There are so many lights strung that you don’t need streetlamps to see. It’s rather magical to see it all. It’s a shame you can’t see this all year round. But then again, it might lose its effect if you see it constantly.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replies.
His eyes drop to your hands clasped on the table. There’s a slight shiver in them.
Suddenly, his hands are covering yours—warmth instantly shooting up your arms from his touch. He says nothing as he rubs his thumbs along your cool skin.
You want to say something; however, it doesn’t feel like you have to, so you just stare at him, a small smile on your face while you bask in the warmth he’s providing.
“How does it feel?” he questions after a few minutes.
You open your mouth to say “good” and to thank him for taking away your coldness, but before you can, he speaks again.
“Getting out, I mean. How does it feel to get out of the café?”
“Oh.” Your face heats rapidly. Thank goodness for your slow reaction. “It’s refreshing.”
Wonwoo hums, nodding.
“Should we walk around again, or should we go? I don’t want you catching a cold,” he says.
“I’d like to see more if that’s okay,” you admit.
“It’s more than okay,” he reassures.
He starts to stand, but you grip his hands to stop him. He stares down at you bemused.
“I have something for you,” you explain.
He sits back down, hands leaving yours when you pull away to retrieve something from your bag.
It’s a small black box with a purple bow on it, albeit the decor is a little squished from being confined to your small bag.
“What’s this?” he asks and carefully brings the box nearby.
“Since you gave me a gift this week,” you say, referring to his tip on Monday, “I got you one as well.”
“You didn’t—”
“Need to? I know. But, I wanted to. And I worked hard on it, so accept it, please?” you say lightly so as to not sound too serious. 
He smiles and nods, lifting the lid.
Inside is the bookmark you made him. On the bookmark’s center is a cat with a game controller. It’s simple, but that’s the best you could do with your lack of drawing skills. Attached to the bookmark is a purple tassel.
“You made this?” Wonwoo asks in amazement.
“I’ll only admit to that if you like it,” you say out of nervousness.
Wonwoo laughs and glances at you. “I like it a lot.”
“Then yes, I made it.”
His gaze shifts to the item again, examining it closely for a bit. Then, he sets it back carefully in the box and puts it in his pocket.
“Thank you,” he says earnestly.
“Of course,” you smile.
You and Wonwoo walk around for twenty more minutes before you call it a night. Throughout the entire walk, he held your hand in his free pocket. The warmth from his body combined with his sheltered pocket made your hand clammy. You felt embarrassed at the fact, but Wonwoo refused to release his hold. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let go, but you also didn’t want him to be disgusted at the feeling.
Wonwoo drove you back to your café where your car was.
You tried to demand he stay in your car since he parked next to yours, but he still climbed out.
You stare at his eyes which are framed by his glasses; his cheeks are slightly rosy from the temperature. His dark hair dances softly in the wind. He looks so handsome.
Wonwoo leans forward and connects his lips ever so softly against your cheek. You have the urge to turn your face and capture his lips with yours, but you don’t.
There’s something romantic about going slow.
Wonwoo pulls back with a kind smile.
“You look beautiful tonight, Yn,” he whispers, breath ghosting your face.
You can’t stop the smile forming on your face even if you tried.
“And you look handsome,” you reply.
Wonwoo mirrors your grin.
“Get home safely, alright?” he instructs.
You nod. “You too.”
You unlock your car and climb inside.
Wonwoo lingers outside, watching with his hands in his pockets.
After starting your car and rolling down your window, you lean out and prop your head on your arm that’s resting on the edge.
He bends slightly to see you better, a small grin on his mouth. His face isn’t too close, but it’s closer than it should be for an average person. But, Wonwoo isn’t average.
He’s quiet for a while, and you take the time to observe his features again. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears. The desire to kiss him resurfaces.
Maybe you’re starting to like Wonwoo. Not just because he’s attractive, kind, funny, and caring, but because he’s Wonwoo.
Wonwoo, who’s been a frequent customer at your café for months.
Wonwoo, who’s always been supportive and kind.
Wonwoo, who’s slowly capturing your heart.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a smile still on his face.
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Because of Wonwoo, you’re always looking forward to the next day.
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omitea · 1 month
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
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. ft. t. fushiguro
. content. emotionally unavailable toji, brief mention of intimacy, toji being an asshole n lacks communication, allusions to cheating (not true), breakup, angst.
. note. fuck toji, he deserves the angst. kinda sucks. too lazy to proofread.
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it is a well known fact that the man named toji fushiguro is a cold hearted man.
the same man who does shady business for a living, the same man who used to have a different girl every week in his bed and the exact same man who was the most self-absorbed being one could lay their eyes on.
when you first met him, there was something quite intriguing about him. his dark bangs hanging above his green eyes— beautiful yet intimidating to gaze at. the sharpness of his jaw, the soft pink color of his lips that are adorned by a scar at the corner. if you were to guess, he was probably around his early thirties.
yet you felt something— more likely your gut telling you that this man is purely surrounded by dark shadows. shadows that will consume your light bit by bit as you step into the darkness that awaits. dimming your flame like a single blow can put out a candle. or how quickly a popsicle could melt on a hot day by the pool.
but you longed for something. something a part of you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you. maybe a part of you hoped that the man you were welcoming into your life wouldn’t be so bad. wouldn’t take advantage of your pure heart you were willing to give. but as days pass, weeks, months and eventually a year— you realize that some people aren’t deserving of good things.
he arrived home after two days of staying who knows where. sometimes he was out for a week— longest was two. whenever you asked, he would just brush you off. not giving you an explanation, keeping you in the dark with your own racing thoughts. communicating is something toji isn’t the best at, if you even wanna call it that. it’s something he deeply lacks, and doesn’t bother to work on. you tried. trying multiple ways for him to open up, but failing each time as moments go by.
during intimacy, you never seem to feel connected to the man. grunts and moans of pleasure, but none seem to sound or feel like love. not even the supposedly sweet words he mumbles in your ear while rutting his hips against yours. everything feels empty. and soon enough, your heart will too.
“toji,” you sighed, following behind him as he relaxed on the couch. no answer. “toji, can you at least spare me a moment?.” at that, he finally looked up to you. you couldn’t explain the expression he bared on his face. maybe a mixture of irritation? or exhaustion?
“where were you?,” you question. a simple question that kept you up at night on days he wouldn’t come home. it always made your skin itch— wondering if maybe there was someone else he found home in.
“non’ya business,” he grumbled. you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep focus on the random show that was playing on the television. you shifted on your feet— contemplating whether it’s worth it to keep pushing. that was the only was in this situation to seek for answers.
“it is my business when i’m the one who’s waiting here like a fool,” you said bitterly. bitter like the black coffee he liked to drink in the cold mornings, bitter like the burnt food that sat on the stove when it was long forgotten during a make out session. maybe even more bitter than his next words.
“yeah, most likely a fool if ya think m’ gonna tell ya shit,” he grinned. the side that adorned his scar lifting up. “‘m home now, aren’t i.”
you felt angry. hands shaking as you convinced yourself not to choke him right here and now. you took a deep breath, “can you at least pretend to care? about me? about this fucked-up relationship?.”
he shrugged and placed both of his hands under his head. “for such a feared man, you sure are a coward,” you mumbled. by the time those words left your mouth, the room felt colder and a shiver ran down your spine. you’re far from scared of him, but it’s more about the situation that’s gonna worsen.
“the fuck did ya say to me?,” he stood up. his nose flared as he inched closer to you. “ya don’t have any idea how hard it is to put up with ya shit,” he spat. your eyes remained on his, daring him to speak further. he ran his hand down his face, laughing as he shook his head.
“fucking hell, for all it’s worth, being away from you was probably the best i’ve felt in months.”
you took a step back, scoffing. “then where were you all those times, mhm?.” the question remained. picking at your skin— eating you alive as each second ticked on the clock. it was quiet for a few seconds, it felt too long for it to be so.
“probably fucking some random bitch behind your back,” he said rather calmly. as if it was the most normal thing you’ve both exchanged today.
shit
your heart dropped, your knees felt weak and your brain began to pound against your skull. your breath hitched and before you knew it, the image of toji began to blur. eyes stinging and soon the tears started to fall down your cheeks.
toji remained still. blank expression evident on his face as he tried to calm his heart that was ready to jump out of his throat. he didn’t mean that. he swears he would never. he doesn’t know what came over him.
the sniffles he heard coming from your shaking body made him snap out of it. he should say something, anything. drop to his knees begging you to hear him out. but no to avail, he stays put. he’s not the type of man to do that, he promised himself.
toji isn’t the type to express his emotions, to wear his heart on his sleeve. to make you feel loved, to make you feel understood. but instead he makes you feel the opposite. unwanted, not deserving of love, worthless…
he sees you walking towards the bedroom, guessing you’re grabbing your stuff to leave. his scarred lip twitches to call out to you, and he finally understands. he knows that he’s truly the only one who was undeserving of you and your precious heart all along.
so he stays behind. watching your back as you head out the door without uttering a single word. and that was the last time you’ve seen him and the last time you would ever settle for less.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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runnning-outof-time · 5 months
Note
The first of a few :)
Tommy- (3 word sentence prompt) “Happy or Sad?”
Thanks for sending this in Liz! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to writing it. This is a COMPLETE flip from the fic I shared earlier haha. Also I have to say that the bit at the end was inspired by the lovely Bri @there-goes-thefighter ‘s latest Tommy fic ‘Your Shadow Side’…it’s a bit different here, but the idea was stuck in the back of my mind nonetheless. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find other stories here!
Bedtime Stories
Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter
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Warnings: none
Word Count: 797
Summary: Tommy gets asked a question that leaves him speechless while he’s telling his daughter a bedtime story.
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“I want daddy to tell me a story tonight!” Isabella Shelby exclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground as she looked up at her mother. Her little hands were balled up into fists, and the glare on her face was one that could even rival her father’s. Wonder who she got it from?
(Y/N) sighed and looked away from her four year old daughter, at her wits end now. It had been a long day. Isabella woke up in a grumpy mood, so everything had been a fight with her. On top of that, Matthew, her two year old son, had just figured out how to get into things, so she’d been following him around the house to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or break anything.
“Dad’s busy with his work at the moment, darling,” she tried to reason with the child.
Isabella did not listen. “I’m going to go ask him,” she insisted, turning on her heel then so that she could make her way down the hall to the door of her father’s office.
(Y/N) stayed in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she heard the muffled exchange between her husband and child. A look of surprise formed on her face when Isabella emerged triumphant from the office moments later with Tommy following behind her. She’s wrapped around his finger, (Y/N) thought to herself with soft laugh.
“Time for bed?” Tommy questioned as he approached (Y/N), chuckling at the fact that Isabella had walked right passed her without a word.
“It is,” (Y/N) responded with a nod, her eyes wide as she conveyed her exasperation to him. Tommy sent her a soft grin before he continued to follow his daughter to her room.
Once Isabella was settled, Tommy got into telling an elaborate story about a princess who had to go and save her darling dog from the grasps of an evil king — they’d just taken in Cyril and the little girl was obsessed with all things related to dogs. Isabella listened intently to the story, reacting to all of the twists and turns that it had. That was the thing she loved most about her dad’s bedtime stories: no one was the same. (Y/N) swore that he could have made a career in writing them…if he hadn’t went down other paths that is.
“We’re reaching the ending now, love,” Tommy warned his daughter as he took a moment’s pause. A pout formed on Isabella’s face; she didn’t want the story to be over yet. “I need to ask you about the ending…”
“What about it?” Isabella interrupted before he could get to the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she titled her head slightly.
“Happy or sad?” he asked, his brows raised as he waited for her answer.
“Happy,” the little girl answered without second thought. Tommy nodded and prepared to end the story. Isabella spoke again before he could get a word out, “who would ever choose sad?” she asked, her question one of the most genuine ones Tommy had ever heard.
“I…” he began to answer, but his words died in his throat as he really thought about the question she asked. He shook his head and ran his hand along his jaw, trying to think of a response that was worthy of such a question. “Someone who isn’t quite sure what happy is, I’d guess,” he finally responded, not sure if what he decided on was even good enough.
Isabella thought about it for a second, her pondering starkly present in her facial expression. “Well that isn’t us, right, daddy?” she then sweetly asked, her doe eyes finding his again.
In that moment, all the bad that Tommy Shelby had done was washed away. All the struggle and strife, the bad blood and the tunnels were the furthest thing from his mind. Now all that was present was the world that his darling daughter was imagining. One that only held good, one where everything ended happy. He was so thankful for her innocence, for the light that she brought into his life.
The slightest smile graced his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly. “No, love…that isn’t us,” he answered her as he sat a loving hand on her blanket covered knee. His smile grew with each second their eyes stayed connected, and he thanked whoever was mainf decisions in the sky for giving him this beautiful little girl.
“Are you gonna finish the story, dad?” Isabella asked, cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and bringing him back to reality.
Her expectant look made him laugh as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna finish the story,” he answered her before going on with the happy ending she’d asked for.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife
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tothosewhoyearnforit · 7 months
Text
stress relief - itzy yeji
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-word count: 3245 words (longest to date :D)
-the yeji fic from many weeks ago. i finally finished it. i have something special that's nearly done. (i promise this time. it was a collection of spare time over a few months)
-dom!yeji, aggresive blowjob, riding, doggystyle, sweaty sweaty sweaty, facial
The stale stench of the air conditioned office clung onto you as you entered the bar.
Being in the bar was the last place you’re supposed to be this month. After just receiving a promotion at your workplace, the workload placed on you gradually kept snowballing to a point of no return. But you couldn’t just give up. Well, first of all, you really needed this job. It paid well, now that you had the promotion. Furthermore, times are changing, there really isn’t very good job stability now and getting fired and being “free” was not to be an option. 
You should’ve been at home, working and completing the reports due next Monday and getting ready for the presentation on Wednesday. Then taking note of all the shipments and settling the deal with the customer from Italy. But eh, it was a Friday, one night wouldn’t hurt right ? 
Or so you thought.
Three quarters through your drink, at around what was probably 11pm, a show begins.
The lights were cut for a brief moment, before spotlights focused onto the pole in the middle of the room. And out comes 5 gorgeous vixen clad in jet black costumes. Then, the music cues. 
Guess who loves you, naya na.
It’s a really, really catchy song and it made the atmosphere super stiff, as if all five of the women were demanding attention and silence as they performed. 
Do I show you? Noya-no.
Okay, this is actually really good music. And good lord those women are gorgeous. 
Ajik time-i anya nan
Jom deo gakkai jom deo gakkai geureoda gapjagi ssak
The choreography too, jesus christ.
But in particular, one of the women is catching your eye. The way her luscious firey orange hair, jewelry embedded within, moves in perfect tandem with her body, which by the way, is absolutely killing it. Every single dance move, to the smallest body pop, is quite literally perfect. Flawless. She’s wearing a sleeveless top and it’s really turning you on. Her arms are so gracious, and you’d love to feel them all over your body. Her collarbones and neck, they’d look so much better with your lovemarks on them. And the little bit of breast peeking out from the top. It’s more than enough to get your heart racing, and you take another sip of your icy cold drink to properly brace yourself for whatever they have left in store.
Imma steal it mameul humcheo
You are gonna love me.
That’s absolutely incorrect. You’re more than loving them, you’re fucking captivated by them.
Gyeoljeongjeogil ttae ippareul deureonaeneun type 
And suddenly, the orangehead takes the stage. 
The lyrics become an absolute blur to your ears as all your mind is fixated on is the absolutely stunning woman. God, she fucking looks like a cat too. Those damn fucking eyes are so… succubus like. And after twirling her fingers in your direction, she suddenly does a slut drop, squatting while spreading her legs apart. Now your eyes are staring at her milky thighs that are on full display under the spotlight. A million things are running through your mind right now, and none of them was related to your work life in any sort of way.
You’ll never know.
Her left thigh moves,snapping you out of your momentary hypnosis and your eyes quickly dart back up and you see her staring at you, a smirk dashed across her face. 
The rest of the song plays on but your mind is now playing that same slut drop moment over and over again. Eventually, the song ends and all 5 of the women are panting, sweat starting to collect at their foreheads. They retreat behind the stage quickly and the rest of the club goes on like the performance of their lives didn’t just happen. 
.
.
Give or take 10 minutes, you are on the way back from a toilet trip. At your table, you are greeted with a very much welcome surprise. The same fiery haired girl is sitting in the seat opposite of yours, watching you make your way back to your seat. 
“Hey there oppa.” Her voice is a knife full of confidence, laced with venom. 
“H-hey. Nice performance out there.” You grab your drink again, needing a punch of ice to hide your nervousness. But it’s so hard to maintain composure, especially when your eyes are looking at everything but her own cat eyes. 
“I know. You clearly enjoyed it. Or rather, you enjoyed me.”
“Was I really that obvious?” That was definitely the alcohol talking. You would have said something like “Sorry” or “I didn’t mean to.”, but no, you were playing the fool, like an absolutely rizzless bastard.
“My group has 5 members, yet every time I moved position, your gaze was glued onto me.”
“Well, you are really, really hot.”
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
Bring the glass to your mouth again, shit. It’s fucking empty.
“So, what’s a young office worker doing in our bar?” She asks, elbows on the table, her head supported by her cupped hands as she leans in. 
“Well, to be fair, I walked in thinking it was a regular bar. I just needed a drink to take my mind off of work.”
“Are we not a regular bar? Anything special about this bar?” She asks, clearly trying to poke at you, like a cat playing with a ball of yarn.
You take another awkward sip of your drink, which was just melting ice at this point.
The conversation continues hazily and you guys chat for what must be hours until the distance between both your faces was probably the size of your drink.
“Can't imagine how stressed you must be.” Her right hand falls into your left, fingers tracing your forearm as she whispers. “Want to get out of here? I’ll get rid of all your stress for you…”
Ah, an offer you couldn't refuse. Now that’s some business I don't mind getting done right now.
“Say less… Um, I didn't catch your name?”
“Name’s Yeji. Don't worry oppa, you're gonna be moaning my name all night.”
And in a flash, you're both out of the club and in your car. You don't waste a single second. Foot on the pedal and you're on the streets of Seoul, zipping past the buildings of the city. 
Yeji, in the meantime, has other plans.
She takes your hand, and places it on her thigh. You can feel her gaze, waiting to see what your next move is. Were you gonna retract your hand and focus on getting home quick and safely? Or were you gonna start the study of Yeji’s body right then and there?
Obviously the latter.
Your hand roams around the silky smooth skin of hers. Pinky occasionally dipping into the gaps in her pants and rubbing against her inner thigh. You hear Yeji suck in a deep breath, the horniness evidently getting to her.
Fuck, fucking red light!
You seize the opportunity to look at Yeji, she’s now grinding against your exploring hand and you can't help but sneak a finger into her pussy. 
Green light. And your foot is back on the pedal. Finally, you reach the last turn into your apartment.
As soon as you get out of the car and into the elevator, Yeji pounces on you. Your hands catch onto her thighs for stability. Your lips crash against one another, her teeth biting your lower lips. 
Ding. Elevator door opens.
Door. Open. Bedroom. Bed.
No time to even register a logical sequence of actions. You toss her against your bed. Yeji is now a panting sweaty mess, but it doesn't matter. She looks even more gorgeous with the thin layer of sweat across her skin. Collarbones, arms and armpits glistening with sweat. You pin her hands above her head and nibble on her neck. Then, tongue out, you start collecting the sweat, from her armpit, across her chest and then from the middle of her neck to behind her ear, where you whisper, “You taste fucking amazing.”
“I know.”
You reach behind and pull down the zipper leading right to her tailbone, then help the foxy girl out of the one piece top. You pause for a moment to take in the sight before you. A smoking hot dancer is lying on your bed in nothing but a strapless bra and a thin black thong and some knee high boots. Yeji’s body is fucking picture perfect. Tight midriff, perky breasts, juicy thighs, not to mention her pretty face.
“Let me put on a show oppa. Just for you.”
She gets off the bed and you take her spot on the edge of the bed. Yeji turns around and takes off the bra, placing it on the ground next to her. Then, she bends over, putting her perky ass on display for you as she pulls off the lacy thong from her slender toned legs.
“You know, I should charge extra for this performance.”
You wouldn’t mind paying any amount to see this performance if you were being honest. 
“Boots on or off oppa ?”
“On.”
Yeji then smiles, tosses her thong onto your face, allowing you to grab a deep whiff of her sex. In front of you, Yeji is back in her slut drop position, but this time it’s even more erotic because she’s wearing nothing but the boots. Her pussy is on full display as she spreads her legs open, with just a little bit of hair going down the middle.
“Fuck, Yeji…” Your cock was throbbing within the confines of your pants with her tiny little strip show.
“Told you you’d be moaning my name.”
Yeji then straddles your lap, looks into your eyes while unbuttoning your shirt. 
“Let’s get all that stress out of your body, oppa. Think about nothing but me, okay?”
“You don’t even need to ask Yeji-ah.”
You pepper her neck with kisses as she peels your shirt off. She then lowers herself, hands grazing across your body, down to your pants which she pulls down. Finally free, Yeji purrs when she sees your length. 
“Wow, it's huge, oppa. Can’t wait for it to be deep inside my pussy.”
She gathers some spit on her hand and uses that same hand to stroke your cock, taking a cold fingertip across your sensitive tip each time she reaches your head. Each swipe across sent you nine realms ahead. It wasn’t clear if it was the alcohol or Yeji’s pure skill at this, but all you could hear was the loud hammering of your heartbeat. Or maybe that was the lewd sound of her saliva being spread over your length. Then, after spontaneously deciding that your cock was ready for the onslaught that was to come, Yeji pushes both your legs off the ground and onto her shoulders and lets the front portion of your cock rest in her mouth. Your balance is shifted. You’re now staring at the ceiling, stimulation after stimulation speeding down your nerves from your cock to your brain. You feel her mouth bobbing up and down on your length, her skillful tongue working its way across its veiny landscape. You try to will yourself to get up to watch the spectacle happening before your eyes but the pleasure drags you the fuck back down and all you can do in response is let out weary breaths and sinful moans while your toes curl and leg muscles spasm. 
And your cock isn’t even all the way through.
Yeji plunges her head down like a vulture diving into the carcass of a dead buffalo, and you feel that sharp nose of hers bump into your pelvis. The sudden action takes you by surprise and, from god knows where this submissiveness came from, you arch your back and let out a sound that you swear to never to make again. You feel saliva coating your nutsack now but when Yeji slowly removes her mouth from your cock, letting the cool wind graze your cock, all you want to do is beg Yeji to put your cock back inside her mouth. But that need not be done, because as you have a brief moment to register the influx of sensations, she hungrily goes back down onto you. Her prey. You would kill to see her eyes right now, staring straight into your own as she watches you submit to her. But then again, from the amount of noise you were making, it was pretty evident that she had you in the palm of her hand. It was just twice. Just twice that the whole length of your cock was engulfed by her mouth, but it drived you to the absolute edge and you felt like your first load was about to come.
“Fuck, Yeji. I- I- I’m gonna fucking…”
Maybe you shouldn’t have given her the verbal cue. Because just as you feel the gates of heaven about to open, she quickly withdraws. The feeling of the climax fading away throughout your crotch. You look at her with a face of discontent, displeasure and anger.
“Can’t have you busting so soon,” she says, chuckling to herself as she climbs over your vulnerable naked body after kicking off her boots, rubbing circles on her slickening pussy. “I'll let you cum deep down my throat some other time.” 
She climbs over you and hovers above your crotch. Grabbing your stimulated, twitching cock in one hand, she lines it up with the folds of her pussy and in one fell swoop, with no prior warning that she was going to go all the way down in one shot, she sits on your pelvis, practically impaling her pussy with your cock. 
“Anggh! Fuck!” A sharp, shrill moan of pleasure erupts from her mouth as her ass rests on your pelvis. Your hands wondrously find their way to her toned sweaty thighs, grazing the muscle on it in pure wonder and amazement. 
“You’re so fucking hot Yeji ah, and so freaking tight!” The fiery redhead doesn’t say a word, but she continues the ride. Hands on your pectoral muscles, Yeji displays her body isolation skills learned from dance. Her gaze fixes onto yours once again as she moves her hips up and down and you can only imagine what her ass looks like as it does this motion. But imagination always becomes reality when Yeji is around. The sexual chemistry between the two of you is just perfect, or maybe Yeji just knows what you so desperately want but is too shy to voice out. She turns around, her hands resting on your legs this time as she does the same vertical wave motion with her hips once again. Her beautiful butt is like a hypnotic pendulum, your eyes fixed on the gorgeous peach in front of you, it’s just irresistible to slap. And so you do. 
Slap! 
“Angh!” Crimson locks of hair get flung up into the air as Yeji throws her head back in response.
You bring a palm down on the flesh and watch how it ripples in response, a red handprint faintly appearing at the spot that was struck. Such a goddamn vixen. Is the only thought that runs through your mind, perhaps the only thought that has been running through your mind the entire night as soon as you laid your eyes on the foxy woman. Her pulsing butthole intrigues you as her hips work their magic, and you can’t help but take your index finger, and slowly slide it into her puckered hole. As your finger snakes its way in, her anal walls clamp down on it until your whole finger up till your knuckle has been engulfed. 
“Holy shit! Just like that oppa! Stuff both my holes up!” 
You withdraw your finger and this time, using both your index and middle finger, you embark on yet another tight fit into her anal cavity. Yeji’s hips start to slow down as she reaches the pinnacle of her stimulation. 
“Fuck-ah! Cumming!”
Her body convulses violently and you feel her muscles contract around your submerged fingers and your cock. You give her alluring buttcheeks another firm slap that echoes throughout the darkness of the night and watch as she slowly climbs off of you.
“You haven’t cum yet oppa…”, she whines, still in her lustful trance. “And my pussy is still yearning for a good pounding.” She wiggles her hindparts in front of you in a doggy position, spreading her pussy lips for you to see. You line yourself up behind her, give that gorgeous ass of hers another firm slap before sending your cock back into its rightful embrace. 
“Oh fuck…” Your cock’s reentering of Yeji’s tight pussy is like getting back into the swimming pool after being exposed to the cool air for too long. Warm. Wet. Refreshing. Her vaginal muscles are still so full of vigor despite having just came, almost as if they were desperately trying to wring you dry. Her scarlet nails dug into the bedsheets as you picked up a steady pace of thrusting your hips. From the back, you bunched up her fiery hair into a makeshift ponytail while your other hand rested nicely on her hip.
“That’s it! Fuck me harder! Use me as your fucking stress relief toy oppa!” That entire dialogue was more than a green light to you. Tightening your core to its limits, you picked up the pace, slamming your hips ever so desperately, with Yeji letting out a raspy moan with every smack that reverberated throughout the night. 
“Holy- Angh! FUCK! I’m gonna cum oppa! I’m gonna fucking cum!” Yeji cries out. Her pussy constricts around your cock for the second time of the night, this time an erotic geyser of squirt ensues, covering your thighs in her slick. Your own orgasm starts to surface. Pulling out of her pussy, you flip Yeji onto her back and climb over her. You point your cock at her and aggressively jerk yourself off to the finish line. 
“That's it. Cum for me. Cover me in your cum oppa. Paint your slut in-”
Yeji is interrupted by streaks and streaks of cum erupting from your cock in what must be your biggest orgasm to date, painting her sharp features, her chin, nose and eyes. The sweaty, panting mess sticks out her sharp tongue in an attempt to collect some food samples. 
“Oh, fuck… Yeji ah.” is all you manage to squeeze out as the last drops of your semen land on her face. 
“Gosh, you sure came a lot.” 
You collapse beside her, both of you sweaty messes. “What can I say? I had a lot of stress pent up inside me.”
Yeji gets up, and walks away from the bed. You still lay there, utterly spent, watching her hypnotizing body sway from left to right.
“Where are you going?”
“To the shower you dummy.”
A brief moment of silence follows as you are unsure of how to reply. Do you join her? Maybe she’s tired and doesn’t want round two.
But your thoughts get interrupted as she makes the choice for you.
“Oppa, are you not joining me?”
Suddenly, your body is full of vigor once more as you imagine the two of you soaped up together in the shower, feeling each other and exploring more of each other’s body. You excitedly hop off the bed and scurry to the shower. It was going to be a long, long night.
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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Yandere Ex Husband Price/Kyle/Johnny head canons !!!!
He still believes you two are together no matter what you are the state says
Or
He keeps delaying signing the divorce papers
Or
He keeps bothering u no matter how much u push him away
Hi pookie!! Hope ur doing well!
— Yandere Ex-husband Johnny being a menace headcanons
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Warnings: yandere behavior, mention of sex and alcohol, much overbearing.
A/N: Decided to go with Johnny ;)! Enjoy <3
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It’s a shame, no? You two were destined to be together. Forever.
He hated being away from you. Not being able to touch you was hell. But, ever since you started acting out, yelling and fighting, breaking out and ignoring him completely, it’s been crushing his heart. Between his missions and your own work, you two barely talked; broken promises turning into broken hearts with wide holes. 
He tried making it up, he really did!! Bought you flowers, dates that ended up with hours’ worth of love and sex, but it was never enough. 
And it made your beloved husband sad. It made me angry. Why can’t you understand you two are meant for each other? 
So after you demanded a divorce, he went along with it. A smirk that widened his blue eyes, nodding as you scoffed at his playful demise.
But, who even listens to those stupid documents? Certainly not, your beloved MacTavish. You were still his, regardless of what the state, or that mind of yours tells you. 
Johnny knows in his gut, in his heart, you’re still in love with him. That one slap you snuck on him was just an accident. That one kick to the balls was just annoyance. The rip of the brand-new underwear he gave you, for Valentine’s Day, was the wrong size. You’re just afraid. The missions he was doing were taking a toll on you; the unsafe feeling crawling up your back. And he was going to protect you to the very end of his line. 
Despite your annoyance, he still picks up your favorite food, coming over to pester you. The knocking, never stopping. The doorbell, which he built, rings your ears. He’ll keep doing it, till he sees his pretty face that he wants to smooch in.
And if you ignore him? Well, guess he’ll have to move in next door! Giving you a smirk when you caught him by the mailbox. So what if you kicked him out? People call him Soap for a reason. 
Finally, when the time is right – Johnny runs over, hand full of items he’ll know you’ll love. 
He knocks, a large hand ringing the doorbell as he yells for your name. He waits, does it again until he smiles at the recognizable stomping of your feet. You’re so cute when you’re angry!   
Of course, as he predicted it, you open the door with an attitude. Nose scrunched. Eyes giving him a glare. And the obvious, “What?”. He chuckles, fixing his jumper as he leans in closer to you. 
He covers a sly excuse that he just wanted to check up on you, one hand holding pretty flowers, your favorite, as the other holds a few beers. He smiles, watching how you leaned against the front door. “Looks like you could use a beer, sweets?”
You roll your eyes, inviting him in. How stupid do you have to be, dolley? 
He still takes every chance to place his hands on your hips, your waist, his lips on your neck. As soon as you two come inside, door locking, Johnny reaches over and seductively grasps your elbow, growling how he needs to talk to you, watching your eyes go wide as you realize Johnny is not your husband. Yet, you’re still so obedient? Why is that? 
He lets you go, chuckling. He’s jus’ joking, peach! But, when you two sit down for the dinner he bought, he knows he’s back into your heart. All quiet. All stiff and being bothered by his presence. It’s cute, isn’t it? 
As dinner finishes, you get up and do dishes; an immediate distance that you need to take. But he chuckles, you think he’d let you off that hook that fast? How sad. 
He passes behind the counter, surprising you with his hands on your hips, as he draws you into him, making sure you feel how much he’s missed you. His fingers deepen into your skin, growling into your ear, “Shoulda kept ya’ all safe, tucked in bed f’me, yeah?” 
Before you know it, it’s months of him not signing the papers. And it’s dawning on you. Irritation digging in your bones, you want to be by yourself! Have a life without Johnny! Get a real job, have real friends, not ones he forces you to have. 
And behind all that glass, Johnny is smirking. Calloused fingers pulling at his hair as he watches you from afar. 
He could wait all day to get the silly idea of divorce out of your head. And you would, just eventually. It’s a waiting game, he’s done it before – enemies and you – so he’ll do it again. 
And maybe, just maybe, he can handle a few more months of “Divorce.” And if you continue going out, getting ready for dates, for only your rightful husband to ruin it, he might need to fuck the business into you, right?
Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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diazevan · 23 days
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it's a leap of faith
Buck needs to talk to somebody after kissing Tommy. So, naturally, he ends up on his sister's doorstep in the early hours of the morning. Read on AO3
“Hey, I’m sorry..." Buck feels like he’s completed a marathon, or maybe even two. All he's done is sit in his apartment, mulling over the events of the evening, before realizing he needed to speak to somebody. 
So, he got into his car and drove to the person he can always count on.
Maddie stares at him, slowly blinking. “Buck, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Sorry.” His heart thumps in his ears, and if he doesn’t sit down soon, he may crumple into a heap. “I just—I just, um–”
“Hey.” Worry fills Maddie’s face. She reaches out, pressing a hand to his arm. “It’s okay. Come inside.”
Buck takes careful steps toward the dinner table, because if Jee-Yun hears a floorboard creak, she’ll be up. 
He thanks the stars that Chimney is working. While he hopes to tell everybody about his revelation, he intends on taking it slow. 
Maddie takes a glass from her cupboard and fills it with water, which she places in front of him. He takes a sip, ignoring how much his hands tremble as he does.
He can sense Maddie’s concerned gaze, looking for answers and worrying about worst case scenarios, as both of them tend to do.
“Buck, look at me.” She takes his hand, and mimics a deep breath, for him to follow. “Breathe.”
“I’m okay,” he pants, taking time to calm himself. “I promise, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” Maddie’s eyes are frantically searching for an answer, and he can see the panic growing in them.
“I spoke to Eddie,” he calms his tone, hoping to show her that he is okay.
“Yeah?”
“He forgives me. And I owe him a few favors,” Buck says, with  a smile.
“Rightfully so.”
“I, ur…” Buck laughs, bowing his head. Then, he stops, taking a second to compose himself. 
This is the moment. The leap of faith he knows that queer people take every single day, and this one is his.
He isn’t sure what he wants or needs to say. There’s no manual for this, and researching ‘how to come out’ only guides him so far. “Do you ever feel like you’re not complete?” he finally asks.
Maddie frowns. “Not complete?”
“Like there’s parts of who you are, that you haven’t discovered yet, and when you do, everything kinda, comes into focus,” he stammers.
“Sure.” Maddie nods. “I think that’s life, right? We’re always changing.”
“I guess.” 
“Evan?” She speaks gently, as if she’s calling out to him, despite being sat side-by-side. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I just, kinda don’t know how to explain it.” Buck sits up in his chair, clutching his hands together. 
“I’ll understand.”
There’s no right or wrong way to do this, but Buck feels like he’s about to take center stage and perform a song he doesn’t know.
“Tommy kissed me,” Buck blurts.
Surprise crosses Maddie’s face, and her jaw slacks slightly. “Tommy kissed you?” Her expression morphs with realization, and she smiles. “And how did that make you feel?”
“I, um, I kissed him back,” Buck splutters, his hands flailing about in front of him. “I wanted to, and I…” He suddenly becomes aware that his cheeks are wet with tears.
He’s not entirely sure why he’s crying. He’s certainly not upset. If anything, he’s joyous.
“It felt like, um that—” he cries.
“Everything came into focus?” Maddie finishes.
“Yeah, yeah.” He runs his hands over his cheeks. “It really did.”
Maddie jumps to her feet and pulls him into her arms. Since he’s sitting down, she has a height advantage, and as he wraps his hands around her back, he feels like a little kid again.
The same one who always ran to his big sister.
“Thank you for telling me,” she whispers in his ear as she clings to him. She steps back to press a kiss against his birthmark. “I’m proud—oh, and I.” Tears are filling her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Buck spots the clock on the wall behind Maddie, and inwardly cringes. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s fine.” She waves a dismissive hand as she sits down. “You can always wake me up when you need me.”
"Thank you." He relaxes, and then says, “I thought I’d be–”
“You’d be what?”
“Confused, but I’m not, it all makes sense.” He leans his head in his hand. “There are all these moments I’ve looked back at, and I know now, what they meant.” He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I just, I never knew that this was a discovery I could made–”
“What, at your old age?” She teases. “Not everybody knows exactly who they’re going to be by 18.” Her smile somehow grows wider. “I’m so happy for you. You look–” she cuts herself off, tilting her head like she’s had an epiphany of her own.
“What?”
“You don’t look like you’re holding the weight of the world on your back anymore.”
Buck lets out another breath, and like every one since Tommy kissed him, it is filled with relief.
Because he’s finally free.
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levitiquee · 5 months
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“Levi!”
You barge through the door, all dramatic, gasping and panting, purposely exaggerating to get his attention. But not to your surprise, he didn’t even bother looking up.
“I suppose no one ever taught you, but there’s a concept called knocking.” He said, his eyes fully focused on the papers. His hand moving across it as he wrote. “It’s quite easy really, you raise your hand and—”
“Levi!” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you loudly. “Levi, my beloved, my savior in dark times, I am in need of your help.”
“Slamming the door isn’t very polite either. Your manners get worse everyday.”
You waved him off, shushing him. You made way across the room, where a couch sat not far from the desk he was sitting on, and flopped down face first. “Levi.” Your voice came out muffled.
“Ah yes, making yourself home I see.” He sighs.
“Levi, I need your help. Real bad.”
“No.”
“What–” You look up, raising your face from the cushions, offended. “You didn’t even–”
“No.” He repeated, eyes not leaving his work for even a second. “Please, get off my couch. Cleaning it is tiresome.”
“Levi.” You whined, impatient at his aloofness. “Levi, he’s going to kill me.”
“I’ll buy you a good coffin.”
“This isn’t funny.” You huffed. “I’m dead. Like literally. Absolutely. This is where it all ends.”
“I’d rather you not die on my couch.”
“Fuck your couch.” You flipped yourself, so you splayed on your back now. You tilted your head, staring at him. “Help me out. Please?”
Levi finally turns to look at you, unable to ignore you any longer. He frowned. “What?” He asked warily. “What did you do this time?”
“Promise me you’ll help me first.” You said.
“No.” He immediately rejects you. “What did you do? Did you get into a fight with an MP again?”
You shook your head.
“Blew up something in Hange’s lab?” He guessed.
“No. But I’d really rather it was Hange mad at me though.”
He looked at you confused, “Who did you piss off then? “
You grimaced. He was quick to conclude.
“Ah.” He realizes. “Erwin.”
A nod from you answers him.
“What did you do?”
“Ask me what I didn’t do.”
“What didn’t you do?”
“Work.” You sat up. “In my defense, it was a shit load of work. And I hate paperwork. And I kept procrastinating. And now it’s due by tomorrow and I didn’t remember until two minutes ago when Erwin shot a glare at me. And now I—”
“I’m not helping you.”
“Why not?” You demanded.
“It’s your fault. Don’t drag me into this shit.” He grumbles, scowling. “And you promised last time, you wouldn’t do this anymore. I’m not doing your work for you. I have enough on my plate.”
“Okay first of all, I’m not lazy. I was busy–”
“Ogling Garrison captains.”
“They’re pretty. And no, not the point, shut up.” You protested. “I was busy. And I didn’t come here so you could do it for me. I came here so you could go and talk to Erwin.”
Levi frowned, “Talk to him about what?”
“Tell him to give me one more day. Swear I’d work my ass off.”
“You said that last time too.” He pointed it out. “How angry is Erwin?”
You made a face. “Bad.”
“How bad?”
“He keeps glaring at me everytime I meet him. It’s the ‘if you don’t get it done this time, you’re gonna get in so much shit’ glare. It’s creeping me out.”
Levi scoffs, shaking his head. “Only you." He said. "Only you can possibly manage piss fucking Erwin off. The guy's a fucking monk, nothing affects him.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I had to guess, I’d say this isn’t the first time asking for an extension.”
“Err…” You ducked your face. “It was kinda supposed to be done 2 weeks ago.”
“2 weeks?” Levo looked at you incredulously. “No wonder he’s pissed. And you’re asking for more time?”
“One more day. Just one more day. Please Levi, he’ll listen to you.”
Levi stares at your pleading expression for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, considering. Thinking. Then he seemed to have made up his mind.
“No.”
“Wha—” You jerk upright. You really thought you’d convinced him.
“No. I’m not getting you out of the grave this time. Specially since you dug it yourself.” He returns his attention back to his work. “Good luck to you, but leave now. And learn a damn lesson.”
You stared at him, gaping. “Wow," You blinked you’re an asshole.”
“Congratulations for realizing that.”
You exhaled. Easy words won’t work, you knew. So, here comes plan A. Acting.
You pouted.
“Don’t look at me like that. I said what I said.”
You fluttered your lashes, all wide shiny eyes, about to cry.
“Get out before I start throwing shit at you.”
“Levi.” Plan B. Bribing.
“No.”
“Leeviii.”
“No.”
“Levi, aren’t you the sweetest, most dearest, my absolute favorite and delightful and super awesome with extra sugar on top bestiest best friend? Don’t be like that, c’mon.”
“Still no. And we’re not friends.”
“‘I’ll make you pie?” You offered.
“You can’t cook to save your life. No.”
"I'll give you hugs."
"I will slap you."
“Levi.” Plan C. Threatening.
He glares back at you.
"You do realize you could've used this time getting the report started instead of trying to convince me and actually might've manage to get it done?”
“I’ll read poetry to you.” You threatened.
Levi looks up, finally there’s a hint of alarm on his face. “No, you won’t.”
“I’ll make sure all your food touch.”
“Get out.”
“I’ll disorganize your bookshelf and fill it with those titan x scout love novels.”
He raised his middle finger at you.
“I will start telling you about all my exes.”
He cringed visibly.
Finally, you gave up. Dragging yourself off the couch, you slowly, pathetically, miserably made your way to the door. You knew that the odds were very low that Levi would actually help you this time, because he was right. You needed to learn a lesson. And it was your fault.
“Oi.”
Your hand was on the doorknob. “What?” You turned to look at him grumpily.
Levi was pinching the bridge of his nose, knitting his eyebrows together, irritated and annoyed. Like he was about to do something he regretted.
He let out a long exhale.
“Bring it here. I’ll help you.”
“What?” You asked, disbelief dripping from your tone. Were you dreaming?
“I’ll help you out. Just this time.” He grunts. “Don’t expect it again. And I’ll only guide you, you’re doing the most of it.”
Music to your ears.
“Really?”
“Go before I change my mind.” He huffed.
You broke into a wide grin, beaming up at him. “No wonder I love you.”
“The feeling is not mutual.”
“You’re the best,”
“Shut up.”
“The best. The most darling, the loveliest, the coolest, the–”
“10 seconds. I’m giving you 10 seconds.”
“Oh–” Your eyes widened. You learnt the hard way Levi usually means his time limits. “Okay, okay, wait here, wait. I’ll be right back. Just–”
And you were out the door,
“Fucking idiot.” He groaned to himself, as you yet again, slammed the door.
He wish he knew why he kept doing this to himself.
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