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#tried another recipe and it was really good
psychesalcove · 2 days
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WE WANNA TALK ABOUT SEX BUT WE'RE NOT ALLOWED
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college au!percy jackson x fem!reader
⚠️: reader has anxiety, percy being too obvious for his own good, shitty writing (im sorry guys 😭), mentions of sex, cursing, emotional cheating (on percys end), not proofread at all, mentions of an anxiety attack, insecure reader
IN WHICH: you and percy have been dating for around a year. however, you feel like he is always choosing annabeth over you, even if he isn't aware of it. tonight, you decided to confront him about it, ending the night not knowing where your relationship stands with him.
requested: yes, by anon
a/n: GUYS IM SO SORRY IM KIKE NOT GOOD AT WRITING ANGST BUT I TRIES 😭😭 JUST MESSAGW ME ABAIN AND ILL REWRITE IT IN A DIFFERENT WAY BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!😔
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you knew this talk had to happen at some point. it was inevitable. there was this unspoken tension between you and percy, and you weren't even sure if he was aware of it. for a while, you thought it was just your anxiety driven brain making you feel the tension—but you soon realized it was there and not made up.
percy and you had been dating for around a year, beggening right before your freshman year of college started. before that, percy had been in a relationship with annabeth. you were on neutral terms with her;you weren't best friends, but you also didn't hate eachother. but lately, that feeling of neutrality with her was slipping away.
you knew percy and her were close, but you didn't understand why they were as close as they were. you knew percy would never cheat, but you figured he didn't understand not being there for his partner.
anytime you wanted to be around him, he would say that annabeth needed him for something. reviewing notes for class, wanting help with decorating her condo, helping her with a new recipe she was doing, anything really.
at first, you didn't mind that much. you knew they weren't sleeping with eachother or anything, but as time went on, going into the last quarter of the school year, you knew that he would go back to annabeth sooner rather than later. his mind was always occupied with her, somehow managing to bring her up in every conversation you have with him.
you sat on the beige couch that you and percy had bought at Ikea last summer, looking out to the balcony area, waiting for percy to arrive. as much as you didn't want to talk to him about this, you knew the longer you put it off the harder the talk would be. you assumed he would be getting back in around 5 minutes, knowing the route he takes in his car to get to the condo from campus.
suddenly the old wooden door creaked open, disturbing the silence that blanketed the room. you sighed lightly, still wondering how to even start a conversation with percy.
percy soon came into vision, dropping his jansport backpack onto the floor before turning to you. "hi, pretty," he hummed. "how was your day?"
you decided to ease into a normal conversation between the two of you before asking the inevitable question that could determine the future of your relationship. "it was fine, english has been kicking my ass recently though, how about you?" you asked, moving around so you were in a more comfortable position.
"it was also fine, but if your having trouble with english, i could ask annabeth—" you cut him off with a sigh, knowing that was your que to steer the conversation in another direction.
"could you sit down percy, please?" you say, making eye contact with him for the first time since he came home. "we really need to talk,"
"uhm.. yeah of course" he says looking around the room quickly before sitting down on the sofa. "if this is about those mint cookies, i did eat them, didn't mean to though, promise." he explains quickly, looking at you with a small smile.
you press your lips into a thin line, knowing how different of a conversation this is going to be than that. "percy, where do you see our relationship going?"
there it is. the idea is out there, in the open, for percy to do anything with.
you watch his eyes widen slightly, looking at you with a questioning look. "what do you mean? i mean, obviously we're going to keep living together, maybe get a better place for next year, we could even make our new kitchen like annabeths–"
"there you go again talking about annabeth!" you said, raising your voice slightly. "i know that the two of you are friends, and i'm fine with that, but not if it's getting in the way of our relationship. almost every conversation you bring her up:annabeth this annabeth that. i know you two are exs, and again, i'm fine with that, but that also means you could have romantiic feelings about her still. i really don't think we should even be doing this if you do, percy."
he sat up straighter at the tone of your voice and what you said to him. "why would i still have feelings for a annabeth? that's why we chose to end our relationship, because neither of us had feelings for eachother!" he exclaimed, attempting to keep a calm voice.
"percy, i really just don't think you're in the mental place to be in a relationship with me, or maybe anyone right now. i don't know what to do—"
percy cut you off, "what do you mean you don't know what to do? i'm the one being told by my girlfriend of a year that she doesn't know if she wants to continue our relationship!" he sat up from the couch and started motioning with his hands. "I'm the one that doesn't know what to do. it's not like i'm going around and having sex with annabeth. you know i wouldn't do that to you!"
"there are other ways of cheating than that percy, and im not saying your cheating on me, I'm just saying that your mind is still on annabeth, which means I don't know if we should be a thing or not." you said. "and honestly, with the reaction your having, i wouldn't be surprised if you were cheating." you also sat up from the couch and moved to stand by him.
"i understand that, but like i said, i'm not going over there to have sex with her or kiss her or anything like that. all im doing is spending time with her, can i not chose who i spend my time with now?" percy spat at you, giving you a look that made you know he was starting to get pissed off.
"that's the problem percy! your spending time with her, which would be okay, if you weren't canceling on me, your girlfriend!" you said, continuing to raise your voice.
he scoffed at you. "name one time that i cancel—"
"last week, when we were supposed to go the cafe to study for an exam together. i was waiting for you at the door when you were grabbing your backpack, and then you come up to me and say that you can't go because annabeth had finished reviewing your notes. and, for some reason, you had to go to hers that moment to get your notes instead of saying that you could later and go to the cafe, with your girlfriend!" you rambled, getting more mad remembering the memory.
you saw a small flash of guilt in percys eyes, but you didn't let him speak. "every single week percy! its the same fucking thing! you cancle last minute to go to annabeth, even dates you've canceled. and i know that your not sleeping with her or anything, but you're still putting her first instead of me. and that hurts. it really hurts." your voice became softer, cracking when you finished speaking.
your eyes filled with tears, and you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. "so yeah, percy, that's why i'm wondering what's going to be our relationship in the future. because right now, i'm not seeing one at all."
you shook your head as you saw his mouth open, still wanting to talk and get through to him. "i love you, so, so much. and it hurts, knowing that i'll always be out second to annabeth. if you want to continue our relationship, you're really going to have to change, percy. and i don't know if you're willing to do that for me." your tears starting openly falling down your face, your brain thinking of what it'll be like to not have percy in your life.
you saw percys mouth open, so you quickly looked down, knowing whatever he was going to say will make you go over the edge and into an anxiety attack. "...why didn't you tell me you felt like that?" he asked with a soft tone to his voice. you shook your had again, knowing you didn't fully get through to him.
"if you were feeling like that, you could have told me and i would have stopped," percy explained, opening his arms to hug you.
you quickly stepped back, not wanting to touch him. "you know what percy? i shouldn't have even had to talk to you about it, because it shouldn't have been a problem. i would have talked to you about it sooner, but i knew it was going to go the way this is going." you said as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
"your not understanding what you did wrong, just saying that i should have done something. which i should have, but i was to nervous, i know that you're too good foe me, gods, i get reminded every single day! so i didn't bring it up to you because i knew that i could've lost you by talking about this!" you let out your first sob as you finished, now thinking of how your going to have to move all your stuff out and stay at your friends condo until you can find a new one.
"hey—hey, let's have you calm down first before we talk. i promise I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to," he said, attempting to make eye contact before you looked down again.
"can, can you just leave? just for a while, please? I–I need to think and it's just really hard being around you right now." you said through your sobs, feeling guilty of practically kicking percy out of his own home, even if just for a while.
you didn't hear what he said, but you watched through your blurred vision as he walked away twords the front hall, heard him grab his keys, and then heard the door close behind him. you quickly walked into your shared bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of your queen size bed.
you look over at percys nightstand, seeing a framed picture of the two of you on your 6th month anniversary. then, your eyes quickly go to a polaroid in front of the framed picture. you sobs grew louder as you grabbed the framed picture and threw it out of anger, sending glass shards across the carpeted floor.
the polaroid was of percy and annabeth, sitting at the campfire back at camp half blood, both having matching smiles on their faces.
you could never compete with annabeth, even in the form of a picture.
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saying goodbye
(cw: age gap 25/41; mndi, slight nsfw; angst, brief discussion of loss and fear of death)
the part before: comforting him
I wanted to do something nice for König before he goes on his next mission, before he has to leave. Which is quite the challenge to make it a surprise from him when you’re living together. Well, staying together, but it doesn’t change the fact that we spend most of our time with each other.
Another reason, why this doesn't feel like dating anymore. It doesn't feel like just being exclusive. It doesn't feel like a living arrangement because he broke my bed. Also, he seems to be doing better again, after the little downward spiral that plagued him at the end of last week. At the same time… I can't shake the feeling that he's a bit more closed off than he was before.
I sigh. He’ll leave in only two days and we agreed that I would go home tomorrow because, well… it can’t be postponed any longer.
I already knew he has to sort out some stuff today before being deployed, driving into the city, getting a medical check-up and also arranging the details for my new bed to finally be delivered. But this gives me the chance to pack up most of my stuff and prepare what I wanted to surprise him with while he is away for a few hours.
I went grocery shopping after work, got everything that the recipe called for, and started as soon I was back at his place. I cut so many onions for this, I’m all cried out, but I still can’t help the little lump sitting in the back of my throat, closing it up, which has nothing to do with the cut vegetables
He comes back earlier than I anticipated, mumbling something about an incompetent doctor and how he doesn’t like to have his blood drawn. But I shoo him out of his own kitchen with a few comforting words, tell him to sit in the living room and read something. And not disturb me.
“Aye-aye, Ma’am.”, he says, an amused smirk on his face as he jokingly salutes. I roll my eyes and laugh a little, patting his butt, to make him hurry along.
I still need to prepare the sidedish and let the stew cook for a little longer to make sure the meat is tender and the sauce is thick enough. At least that’s what the recipe said. And I need to make sure I do everything right.
When it’s finally done, the kitchen looks like somebody threw around food, although I did my best to clean up as I go.
I fill one of the soup dishes with the stew, putting the Nockerl in there as well, the dough already soaking up some of the sauce. I compare the dish in front of me with the picture from the recipe and I’m actually content with how it came out.
I set the plate down on the island where the seats are and call for König while I get myself a smaller portion. I hear his steps before his huge stature appears in the doorframe.
“Uh, dinner is ready.”, I say wryly smiling at him, with my plate in my hands. I set it down next to his.
“I can see that and I already smelled the cooking in the living room, it smells deli-“ The words gets stuck in his throat as he comes closer, stopping in front of the plate. He drops onto the seat, the furniture aching under his weight. The smile he was still wearing when he came into the kitchen has dissipated, his mouth hanging open, when he looks up from his plate, his eyes finding mine. He looks almost in shock.
I sit down next to him, suddenly very unsure if this whole ordeal even was a good idea.
“You cooked Gulasch?”, he asks, his voice wavering.
I nod. “Yes, I remember how you said that you liked it, so uh, I tried to make it.”
“But you’re vegetarian.”, he adds.
“Yes, but you aren’t. And the original recipe calls for beef.”, I explain, putting the doughy pillows that the Austrians call Nockerl onto my fork, scooping up some of the sauce. I just want to try a bit of, tasting a part of his origins.
He’s still staring as I put the fork into my mouth, and well, he didn’t promise too much when he was talking about his favourite food because that’s really delicious. Though I’m unsure about how authentic it is.
His gaze moves from me to the plate in front of him, finally picking up the fork, and he digs in, taking the biggest bite. I wait to see what his reaction would be like. He shovels two, three forkfuls into his mouth, chewing, tasting. And then suddenly just stops. Goes completely still. And I don’t know what’s going on as his head drops forward, his hair hanging in front of his face.
A small silent sob shakes his chest and a stray tear falls from his face into the stew. My heart drops to my feet. Fuck.
“We don’t need to eat it, if it’s no good.”, I say lightly, trying not to let it affect me. When I go to grab his plate, his head whips in my direction, and I finally get a good look at his face.
“What, no?! I-“ He takes a deep breath, his hand wiping over his eyes quickly, like the tear was never there. “This is the nicest thing somebody has done for me in a long time.”, he finally says. “And it reminds me of my Oma.” A deep sigh shakes his tall frame. “So, thank you, okay? It’s delicious.” He takes my hands, softly pulling them towards him, pressing a kiss on each palm.
The sadness in his eyes isn’t completely gone when I look into them, and I didn’t anticipate that this simple gesture of cooking him his favourite meal would have him in shambles like that. But the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth is a warm one, thankful and happy.
“You’re welcome.”, I simply tell him. “I’m glad you like it.” I press my lips to his, reassuring the big giant that it was okay, without saying it out loud.
When I pull back, he lingers, his hand shooting up to the back of my head, stealing another kiss. Long, deep and oh so soft. Another “thank you”, without saying it out loud.
“What was your Oma like?”, I ask him, taking a forkful of my sauced-up Nockerl. He talked about her before, but it might keep me from tearing up as well.
The smile on his face gets wider and he starts to tell stories about her. Leaving the other people in his family out of it, for the most part.
How she always asked him to get the stuff from the upper shelves because he was already taller than her at age 12. How he sat in the kitchen doing his homework while she cooked. How she stopped pestering him about going to church on Sunday eventually, but still almost smacked him in his head when he turned the cross in the living room upside down as a joke. How she cried when he joined the military because that was the last thing she wished for him. How she still let him go and how he had to promise her to come back – or else. How he helped her in the garden every time he came home and kept doing that well into his 30s. And how he nearly missed her funeral because he almost couldn’t get permission to leave for a few days.
König takes seconds and even thirds, eating almost all of the Gulasch I cooked. I’m already done sitting over my empty plate, listening to him talk, getting us something to drink. When he is done as well, he grabs the plates to wash up, not letting me help in any way, because “Oh no, you already cooked and everything”. He tells me to pick out a movie I’d like to watch, the glint in his eyes telling me that it’s probably going to get cut short again, so I put on Pulp Fiction, a movie we both have watched countless times before.
He laughs as he comes into the living room with a beer in his hand and sees my choice on the flatscreen, taking a seat at the couch and I hop onto his lap when his ass barely touched the cushions. We’re entangled, as close as you can be. And it doesn’t take long for his hands to wander. Squeeze, caress, stroke over my body. Teasing me with soft kisses against my neck until a heavy sigh leaves my lips. He takes that as an invitation to finally take me to the bedroom where he lies me down on the mattress to eat me out, while he kneels on the floor. Messy, sloppy licks and nibbles, his fingers methodically filling me until I cum for him, my thighs pressing together around his head.
He crawls over me, pushing into me with his dick, after teasing my clit some more with his tip, the piercing deliciously pressing into the sensitive nub.
Slow and sweet doesn’t mean less intense, the soft stretch with every sensual roll of his hips sending sensations over my body, making me pant and throw my head back with pleasure.
His hand on my chin compelling me look at him while he is fucking me like this… until it doesn’t feel like just fucking anymore. When I come again, this time around his dick, it feels like a soft wave washing over me, his name on my lips, and he doesn’t stop pushing into me, prolonging my orgasm and chasing his own until he spills inside me.
He presses kisses to my cheek, pulling me into him, and we snuggle up against each other to fall asleep. My back is against his front, the heat of his body warming me, that I don’t even need a blanket. Feeling the comfort of his embrace a little more clearly than usual.
And the realisation hits me that he is going to leave. And I’m gonna go back home, to my apartment. No more König when I come home from work. No shared meals in the kitchen, no sitting in his lap on the couch. No laughing fits in the middle of the night when one of us says something so stupid that the other can’t comprehend. No filthy sex and tender kisses. No calling him “old man” to get a rise out of him. No dirty punishment for my bratty ass. No feeling him inside me, his brows turned up, his eyes rolling back in ecstatic expression as he comes. None of it, at least for some time.
I push those thoughts away, pulling his arms tighter around me as if I could keep him like this. I close my eyes, ignoring the one stray tear that rolls down my cheek, and drift off into sleep.
And with this the day I have been dreading the whole week is finally here. The day when I return to my own apartment after staying with him for weeks. I even took a day off of work for this.
I’m trying not to let it show too much, because it’s a bit stupid. This living arrangement always was meant to be temporary and I always knew he was on leave, needing to go back to his work at some point sooner or later. But now that it’s here… I kinda don’t want it to happen at all.
The coffee tastes a little bitter as I sip it, even though he added just as much milk as usual, with the typical joking disgust while diluting the tasty elixir, that always makes me chuckle and shake my head.
The sunlight streaming through the big windows in the living room blinds me as it reflects off the shiny couch upholstery when I go to collect Mimi from her spot, putting her in the cat carrier.
The book I finished reading on the weekend gets caught when I push it into its place on the shelf, some of the pages creasing. I curse, showing König and apologizing. He takes the book from my grasp, straightening out the crinkles, and puts it back. “Don’t worry, Liebes, it’s just a book.”, he says, his arm coming around me as he pulls me against his warm body and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
I get the rest of my stuff, seeing that one of my yarn balls has tangled into a net of knots, and I curse again. Of course, it did. I put my crochet bag into one of the boxes and carry it outside.
With a sigh I look back over my shoulder one last time and close the door behind me, placing my stuff in the trunk and climbing into the driver’s seat of my own car. Starting it and driving after him, and it’s weird not to sit right next to him in his car.
It’s weird being home again. Letting Mimi out of her carrier, the little kitty running around, brushing against his legs. And he picks her up, carrying her around, just like they always do. The small creature is purring against his chest as he shimmies her around, humming some tune I can't place.
It’s weird standing here in my apartment with him, waiting for the bed to be delivered. I can feel my bubbly yapping coming back, not being able to shut up, and König is listening like he always does. Short, one-worded answers while his hand is petting Mimi, scratching between her ears and under her chin.
The doorbell ringing tears us from our conversation. The delivery guys are handing the packages over, asking if they should help bring them in, but König declines, giving them a tip and sending them their way.
I’m not as easily deterred from trying to help with the packages, although König is carrying most of them, barely breaking a sweat, while I struggle with the smallest one.
Sitting on the bedroom floor, his tall figure still reaching up to my hips before I get down next to him. He’s glancing at the instructions, squeezing his eyes together, but I can tell he’s having a hard time seeing the illustrations of the steps correctly.
And of course he is too stubborn to ask for help. I grin to myself and shake my head. “Forgot your glasses?”, I ask him, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah.”, he says wryly, and I extend my hand, suggesting silently he’ll hand over the instructions and he does, with a sigh and a little smile.
While I’m still studying the instructions, he’s laying out the pieces and already putting the first parts together. Of course, he is choosing the hands-on approach, even with stuff like that, figuring it out as he moves along, and I chime in with a few comments here and there, guiding the construction.
His long hair is getting in the way and I lend him a hair tie, and I don’t think I’ll ever manage to get over how meticulous he puts his hair in a ponytail. I mean, he probably has done that same move for years, his hands collecting all the stray strands, the band snapping around them with two quick motions and then it just sits perfectly at the back of his head.
We spent so much time together and I realise that I’ve never seen him do that. The whole time he was always wearing his hair down, some strands hanging in front of his face. Sometimes he put them into a lose bun when he was working out, but never like this.
“What?”, he asks me, a hint of uncertainty on his face.
I shake my head. “Nothing, your hair looks good like that.”, I say, clearing my voice when it dares to break off, but I save it with a smile which gets mirrored by his, and I can’t help but put a kiss onto it while a pang of something spreads in my chest. I feel like I know him so well, and yet I keep learning parts of him I’ve never seen before.
“Come on, Hexe.”, he says when I linger, prolonging the kiss, caught in my thoughts, his hand patting my hip which makes me giggle a bit, but I can't shake the feeling that's settling in my stomach. Fuck, he's gonna leave.
Pretty quickly we construct the bed, it’s easy enough, especially when you’re following the instructions – a sentiment I say out loud after he managed to stick two pieces together who fit, but actually belong like that. He just grins and pulls them apart easily, his muscles flexing for just a moment.
“Show-off.”, I say, sticking my tongue out at him.
Finally, the frame is done, the slats already fitted into it and last but not least, we hoist the mattress onto them.
“You didn’t need to buy me a new one, you know.”
He shoots me a look. A knowing one.
“Really, it was fine. The old one would have sufficed.”
“I have slept on that mattress. You needed a new one.”
“Oh, that's just your old bones.”, I quip, and I know how ridiculous I must sound telling that to a soldier who can probably sleep anytime anywhere.
He pinches my nose. “You're not getting younger yourself, Missy.”, he answers. "Your back will be thankful."
“Yeah, yeah.”, I say grinning and bump my hip against his, rather hitting the burly thigh, before getting some bedsheets.
The fresh sheets match the nice dark wood of the bedframe, the bed now looking so much nicer than the rest of my furniture pieces.
“Thanks. For the new bed.”, I tell him, smiling up at him, getting on my tiptoes.
“No need to thank me, Liebes.”, he answers, leaning down and meeting me halfway for a kiss. “It was my fault you needed a new one in the first place.”, a wry grin accompanying his words.
“Well, this looks much sturdier like the one I had before.” I tap the wooden frame, a hollow knock resounding.
“Well, I needed to make sure that it wouldn’t break that easily again.”, he says, smiling down at me, a twinkle in his eyes. A reminder of how we broke it in the first place.
“Care to test that theory?”, I ask him cheekily, although I’m not really in the mood right now. My heart is way too heavy.
Before I can say anything else, he grabs me by the waist and lifts me up on the bed, the mattress dipping down under my weight. His hands are steadying me when I start to jump up and down, bouncing on it. Damn, it’s really nice. And I don't dare to ask how much he spent on it.
“Sturdy enough, you think?”, he asks me.
I nod. “You wanna come up here too?”, I tease him.
He shakes his head, just grinning, following my movements up and down with his eyes.
“Oh come on!”, I exclaim, not ready to stop this sillyness.
He pulls up his eyebrows. “I don’t think that would be wise, we don’t need to push it.”, he grins, when all of a sudden, there’s a faint cracking sound, and I stop, almost toppling over trying to hold my balance on the wobbling mattress.
“Point and case.”, he remarks as his arms coming around my waist as he lifts me off the bed.
“Okay, okay…”
I hold onto him like a little spider monkey, my legs closing around him, my cheek pressing against his shoulder as I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. Like I could keep him here like that. Or he’ll just take me with him when I stick to him like a limpet. Maybe I’m small enough to fit into his pocket.
My fingers get caught in his hair as I try to run them through it like I always do, and he pulls the hair tie from them, putting it away, letting me play with the long strands, as he goes to sit down.
The couch in my apartment is way smaller than his, his frame fills the cushions easily, so I have nowhere else to sit but his lap. Like I would have sat anywhere else. Trying to be as close to him as possible.
We’re not saying anything, just sitting here. My head rests against his shoulder, his scent all around me. I can hear his heart beat, feel it beneath my fingertips resting on his chest. Steady and strong, but a little too fast.
His hands are gently caressing my thighs and back, and even though I feel the sadness seep into me, the soft touches ground me.
We sit in silence for what seems eternity while at the same time lasting barely more than the blink of an eye. And I wish we could remain in this moment, frozen in time, but well.
He sighs softly, the deep sound pulling me from my thoughts, and I lift my head, to look at him.
“We need to say goodbye.” He slumps back, his shoulders hitting the backrest. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”, he exhales. Saying what I was thinking.
"Don't worry, I'll still be here when you're on leave again.", I tell him, softly kissing his cheek. He turns to me, the expression on his face serious and... a bit sad.
"But you shouldn't be.", he says, calm and steady.
"But-", I want to protest.
He shakes his head. "No, you should be with somebody your age, someone who can give you stability." He sighs. "Someone who can guarantee you that they'll come back to you. Every time they leave."
And the realisation hits me. He isn't saying goodbye for now. He's saying goodbye for good.
“I see.”, is all I manage because my feelings come crashing down over me with a vicious fervor. I thought I was going to have to deal with him leaving for weeks or months. With him being gone for a while. Not with a breakup.
“I’m sorry.”, he apologizes and starts to explain. “I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.” The admission in his words makes my stomach flip upside down. I actually feel a little nauseous as my hands grip my own thighs, trying to hold onto something. “And I should’ve maybe said something earlier.” He swallows hard.
“The truth is that I had the best time this leave, and that was solely because of you.” He finally looks at me again, the raw emotions in his eyes almost scaring me. But the resolve in them is clear as well. “I couldn’t get myself to break it off. But I can’t make you wait for me either. Because I can’t even promise you that I will return.” His voice is shaking now and seeing him like this makes my lower lip tremble as I just try to breathe.
“And I can’t do that to you. The thought of you waiting for me at home and only a casket coming back… has been killing me inside these past few days.” The words come out choked and I can’t look at him anymore, my head snapping to the side as that image fills my mind. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, okay?”
We sit here like this for a moment longer. His hands stopped caressing my thighs and back, and I want to scream. The cold feeling of loss grips my heart, a viciously clawed hand leaving gaping wounds as it was making its way up my chest. He’s still sitting underneath me, but I feel like he’s already gone.
“I get it.”, I finally say, my voice trembling and hoarse. Still not able to look at him because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my tears.
“I knew you would.”, he says, the words breaking up as he speaks. And I think back to when he told me that he couldn’t have a partner or family because his job won’t allow it. And I finally get why he thinks like that. At least I guess so. The big house devoid of any life but him, his own little safe haven, and I only now understand how temporary this whole arrangement really had been. I just didn’t see it. Maybe because I didn’t want to.
While I still try to process everything, he lifts me up and sets me down on the cushions of the couch. Like he did countless times the last few weeks. In his living room. And a sob tears from my chest because the gesture reminds me of so many tender and filthy moments at the same time. I hug my knees, pulling them close to me, already missing the warmth of his body. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.
He crouches down, coming face to face with me, and it just hurts to look at him. The bandshirt he bought for the concert we went to together. The tattoos on his knuckles, straining from the tension in his balled-up fists. The long dark hair, pushed to the side, falling back down his shoulder. I don’t need to touch it, to know how soft it feels. The mouth that smiled at me so often. The lips I have kissed countless times and that have kissed every inch of my body. The furrowed brows. The slack expression on his face concealing the laughlines. And for the first time since I’ve known him looking into his eyes doesn’t give me comfort.
He carefully takes my chin, the pads of his fingertips rough against the skin, softly digging into my jaw, like he likes – liked to do. He leans forward pressing a kiss to my lips which almost makes the tears drop from my eyes. A kiss to say goodbye, gentle and bittersweet.
"Stay safe, okay?", he whispers, his eyes looking intently into mine, but I can only nod. My throat is closed up because I know he won't be safe. Not saying anything because I don't want to cry in front of him. Because that will only make it harder, on both of us.
He straightens back up and leaves. The door falls shut behind him.
And I finally let the waterworks flow, sobs shaking my chest as I throw myself into the couch where he sat just a few moments ago.
Mimi’s meow pulls me from my crying fit when she jumps up onto the couch, her little head bumping into me, and I pull her against my chest, the tears rolling down my cheeks. And the odd thought crosses my mind if the crinkles in the book on his shelf are the only remainders of me in his house. While I have this new bed.
How did we get here? Masterlist
a/n: i have been working on this chapter for months and i knew what was coming and now that it's finished, i can't help but still feel the sadness hitting me 🥲 - and no, this is not the last chapter (in case you were fearing that rn) take this recipe for authentic austrian beef gulasch as a token of my apology
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staryarn · 4 months
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Season with your heart
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Tip 2: to make mashed potatoes easy style get enough small potatoes, fill pot till like. A third the way up with potatoes, cover with water (make sure it barely covered the potatoes), then lightly season with salt. Boil for about 20-40 minutes so they're tender as hell. Pulverize those fucks in a bowl (strained). Add seasoning to your liking (added salt, pepper, onion powder because I wasn't assed to reach for garlic powder, agave syrup / maple, cheese, sour cream. Loosen with water and add half and half (or better cream but. Didn't have it) to liking. Microwave that fucker then rapidly mix so the cheese strings)
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imwritesometimes · 8 months
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I wish I could just get paid to make bundt cakes :/
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Goodnight everyone!! I love you!! 💕
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wwilsonbarness · 10 months
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i can't do this anymore
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pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader  
summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 
warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication. 
word count: 3665
a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
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“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.
“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?”  Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over. 
“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt. 
“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself,  your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject. 
“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in. 
“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.” 
“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head. 
“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong. 
“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?” 
“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time. 
“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone. 
You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.” 
“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation. 
“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself. 
“You know he would do anything for you.” 
“You think?” 
“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?” 
“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.” 
“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.” 
“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick. 
You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself. 
“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard. 
“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose. 
“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading. 
“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully. 
“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?” 
Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn’t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.” 
“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.” 
“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend. 
“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.” 
“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you. 
“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing. 
“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them. 
You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.
“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked. 
“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you? 
You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest. 
“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore. 
“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him. 
“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?” 
“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.
He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table. 
“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg. 
“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?” 
“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.
 “Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds
“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it. 
“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him. 
“Thank you Bucky.” 
The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything. 
Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now. 
“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now. 
“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes. 
“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.” 
“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it. 
You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.” 
You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today. 
“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?” 
“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall. 
“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged. 
“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. 
“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise. 
“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”
“What? You want me to do it right now?” 
“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end. 
“Erm. Okay..”  He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed. 
“Bucky what-” 
“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-” 
“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility. 
“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in. 
“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?” 
“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.” 
“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”
“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life. 
“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.” 
“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly. 
“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.” 
Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?” 
“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.
“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.” 
“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy. 
“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.
“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”
“Mhmm?”
“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll” 
Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect. 
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cupid-styles · 14 days
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yours (ymls check-in)
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in which y/n just wants to be harry's — officially.
word count: 3.8k
content warnings: parenting/family stuff (y/n and harry are parents), smut (breeding kink, slight size kink, literal one "mommy" mention, dirty talk)
ymls masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Parenthood is difficult.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, so it takes Harry and Y/N approximately two minutes of bringing Clementine into the world to come to the same realization. Her loud wails break their hearts every time, sleep becomes a luxury, and breastfeeding takes an incredible toll on Y/N’s physical and mental health.
But in the same way that parenting is hard and filled with tears and confusion, it’s just as — if not more — rewarding.
Clementine is the best thing that’s ever happened to each of them. Harry can’t remember a version of his life where he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with his sweet baby girl, and Y/N has softened up a considerable amount now that she spends most of her day cooing to her daughter. 
It’s not perfect by any means — Clem is a tried-and-true daddy’s girl and sometimes it hurts Y/N’s feelings. Clementine also inherited her mom’s grumpy exterior and, in the middle of a visit from Harry’s parents or Y/N’s sister, will starfish her body, going completely rigid until one of her parents takes her. (Harry always thinks it’s funny while Y/N is embarrassed by it. It’s something they’re working on as a family.)
Beyond their little trio, though, lies a larger situation that’s been conveniently tucked away since Clementine was born: Harry and Y/N’s relationship. 
They never decided what they were after confessing feelings for one another. One day, they lived separately and were going the route of platonic co-parenting. The next, Harry moved all his things into Y/N’s, ended the lease on his own apartment, and painted the guest room a pretty pastel pink. 
At first, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Y/N has never cared for labels on relationships, and their devotion to each other was blatant — they were parenting a child together, after all. He kissed her good morning, they held hands on family walks, and at the end of the day, they were crawling into bed together. She didn’t need a ring or a title to reiterate where she stood in Harry’s life.
Until… well, until the supermarket incident.
It was a rainy day, but Y/N wanted to pop into the store before they rounded the corner to head back home. Now that Clementine’s pediatrician gave them the okay to start trying out solid foods — or, as solid as baby food can be — Harry had gotten really into making it from scratch. Currently, their kitchen was a mess of sweet potato, apple, and green bean purees, but Y/N was trying to be supportive, even if the noise of the blender sometimes woke Clem up from her afternoon nap. She remembered him mentioning a new recipe he found for carrots, mangos, and bananas, so she figured they could grab the ingredients on their way home. 
Clementine looked adorable in her cute little rain jacket and matching hat. Harry couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, and as they dipped into the produce aisle, stroller in tow, she remembered they needed another gallon of milk since they were trying to wean Clem off of Y/N’s breast milk. 
“You guys can stay right here, it’s just in the next aisle,” Y/N said, arms stuffed with produce bags. Harry nodded, though his attention primarily laid on Clementine’s gummy smile. Y/N snorted to herself as she quickly shuffled off to the dairy section — the duo were two peas in a pod, but she didn't think she would want it any other way. 
Glancing down at her watch, she put a pep in her step as she walked back to the produce aisle. They had about 15 minutes before Clem started getting antsy and whiney about her pre-dinner nap, and she didn’t want her to get upset on their walk home. 
Only, when she turned the aisle, Harry and Clementine weren’t alone anymore — no, there were two women standing with them, cooing over their daughter. 
“She’s so precious! How old is she?” one of them asked.
“Ah, almost eight months,” Harry replied bashfully, petting down the tuft of brown curls at the top of Clementine’s head. Y/N clenched her jaw. Why had he taken her hat off? It was supposed to protect her from the rain! 
“So sweet,” the other woman grinned, reaching out to thumb over Clementine’s puffy cheek. The vision sent a pang of jealousy through Y/N’s chest — her baby wasn’t some kind of doll that anyone could just touch! Clutching the produce and container of milk in her hands, Y/N all but marched over to the stroller and threw them in the bottom compartment. 
“Ready to go, honey?” 
Harry blinked at Y/N, a world of confusion swirling in the green eyes he shared with his daughter. She stayed silent and still, knuckles white from gripping the stroller handle so tightly. 
“Yeah,” he finally replied, leaning down to gently place Clementine back in her seat, “This is Y/N, Clementine’s mum.”
“Oh, your baby is so sweet! Harry was just raving about you!” one of the women nearly squealed. Y/N smiled tightly as she watched him buckle Clementine in.
“Okay, say bye bye, Clem,” Harry murmured. They’d been trying to teach her how to wave hello and goodbye, but Y/N would rather scoop her own eyeballs out than watch her do it for the first time with these women. 
In fact, she was already pushing the stroller down the end of the aisle before they could even get the word “bye” out.
Since that day about two weeks ago, it’s been constantly replaying in the back of Y/N’s brain. Even though Harry didn’t think much of it (she knows this because he immediately started talking about nonsense on the walk home), for the first time, it plucked at a chord of insecurity that she didn’t even know she had. She’d always felt fairly secure in her relationship with Harry — he’d all but begged her for this life together, and he’d been incredibly involved from the moment she got pregnant — so how is that two random strangers at the supermarket tore this out of her? 
It bothered her so deeply to the point where she did something she’d never done before: Ask Lea for relationship advice. 
“In the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me for help with a man,” Lea had said, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. Y/N grumbled as she wrapped her hand around her matcha, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She’d been able to sneak out for an afternoon coffee date with her while Harry took Clementine to the park. “You’re always so… sure of yourself. And you have a literal child with Harry. What gives?”
Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her lips together nervously. “You should’ve seen the way those girls were all over him. It was… gross.”
“It’s normal to feel jealous, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“I am not jealous,” she muttered, “I just… he introduced me as Clementine’s mom. Don’t you think I’m a bit… more than that to him?”
“Of course you are. But you’ve never had that conversation, have you?”
“Like you said, we have a baby together. What else could you need?”
Lea smirked, “That’s all that you need. But he probably needs a bit more confirmation than that.”
Y/N bristled as she stuck her straw between her lips, taking a long sip. 
“He knows we’re in a relationship, doesn’t he?” 
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “Dom and I used to hear all the gossip about you two before Clem was born, but since then, I think he’s just been focused on making sure you and her are both taken care of.”
“So what do I do?” Y/N asked through a sigh, leaning back against the worn leather of the booth. 
“Talk to him,” Lea said easily, “But… maybe don’t do it in your rough-and-tough-Y/N way. Maybe… make it a little special. He likes that, y’know? Little romantic gestures?”
Y/N scrunched her face. Lea was right — Harry was all about the little things, like surprising her with flowers or waking her up with breakfast in bed on the weekends. And while Y/N was positive she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, she’d certainly attempt to find one if it meant making Harry happy. 
. . .
A few days later, Harry walks into his shared apartment with Y/N to the scent of something delicious. 
“Y/N?” he calls as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. They weren’t due for company, were they? He doesn’t think so, but with eight months straight of four to five hours of sleep each night, he had trouble remembering anything that wasn’t Clementine-related. 
He follows the fragrance into the kitchen, where Y/N is standing over the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of some sort of sauce. She jumps, hand over her heart, when he goes to greet her. 
“Jesus fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, the wooden spoon nearly clattering to the floor. He smirks and lets out an amused laugh as he walks towards her, observing the array of pans on the stovetop. 
“What’s all this for?” he asks. Y/N presses a hand to his muscular chest and attempts to block him from seeing anything. 
“I’m making you dinner,” she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Clem’s with my sister for the night.”
“Oh?”
She nods. 
“Did I forget a special occasion?”
She shakes her head.
“Then how come I’m getting spoiled tonight?”
Her cheeks warm at that, but they both pretend her blush is invisible. “I just wanted to do something… romantic for you.” 
“Romantic?” he repeats the word like it’s a bizarre concept and it makes a pit form in Y/N’s stomach, “That’s… sweet of you. Thank you.”
She nods, albeit a bit robotically. “Um. Yeah. It’ll be ready in like 5 minutes.”
“Sounds good,” he replies, “Do you want me to set the table?”
She shakes her head bashfully and Harry raises an eyebrow. “I already did that.”
Her demure nature makes a smile form at the edges of his lips and he reaches out to press a hand to her hip, squeezing gently. 
“Y’okay?” he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her. “You seem nervous.”
Y/N shrugs and it supplies him with a tepid answer. “I just wanna make this nice for you.”
His heart breaks a bit at that and he ducks lower to catch her lips in a short, sweet kiss. PDA isn’t irregular for them — not with touch being Harry’s primary love language — so it’s unsurprising to be on the receiving end of one of his dizzying kisses, even if it ends quicker than she’d like. 
“This is already so special to me. I do miss Clem, though.”
She snorts at that as he brushes his nose against hers. “Of course you do. She’s your mini me.”
“Except when she’s making that grumpy little face. That’s all you.”
Y/N lightly bats at his chest before mumbling out to go sit down in the dining room. 
Harry’s eyes widen when he sees the candlelit table — he can’t remember the last time they ate on actual plates, always opting for take-out containers or paper plates for the sake of convenience. He swallows as he sits down and listens to Y/N shuffle around the kitchen. He hears her curse, followed by what sounds like her emptying pasta into a colander — she always burns herself whenever she does that, and he can envision the slight grimace that appears on her face. 
Just as he’s getting antsy and preparing himself to ask if she needs any help, Y/N appears from the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she places it on the table, then stands up straight. She looks like a soldier waiting to be told to return to their duties.
“Um… I made us that roasted red pepper pasta you like.” she says, wringing her hands out in front of her. “I hope that’s fine.”
“That’s great,” Harry nods, gesturing to the seat across from him, “Sit down. You look like you’re gonna have an aneurysm. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down, and the sound of her grouchy voice makes him chuckle as he grabs her bowl to serve her, “I know I’m not, like… the most romantic person, or even the easiest person to be around, so it’s important to me that I make this really good for you.”
“I hate when you say that,” he murmurs before placing her full bowl in front of her. He moves to serve himself, “You’re the easiest person I’ve ever been around. You’re a great mum and I love being a parent with you.”
Y/N swallows as she listens to him, leaving her food untouched. He watches her and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly. 
“Is that… all I am to you?” she asks softly with low eyes. Harry furrows his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?”
“Like… am I still just a co-parent to you?” 
He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, we never really talked about it, I guess. But you know you’re more than that to me.”
“You’re more than just Clem’s dad to me,” she continues. “And it kinda hurt my feelings when you introduced me to those girls as ‘Clementine’s mom’ a few weeks back.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“I know.”
His heart strains at the thought of hurting her feelings, but he also knows that what happened in the supermarket was weeks ago. Had she been sitting on it and thinking about it all this time?
“I never want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. To be honest, I don’t know how to refer to you but… I’d say you’re my partner, yeah? You’re my teammate in raising our beautiful girl and I love getting to live life with you.”
Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. “But what if… what if you called me your girlfriend, too?”
Harry’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to place his hand on her knee, squeezing softly.
“Would you want that?” he asks. “I’ll only do it if that’s what you want.”
She looks up at him and nods. Her eyes are glassy and it makes Harry’s chest tighten. Suddenly, he needs to be closer to her, so he stands up and scoops her into his arms. At first she rejects his touch, mumbling out sentiments about still having postpartum weight, but Harry shushes her and pulls her into his lap. 
“Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N.” he murmurs. He leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She shivers and he keeps his hands as solid anchors on her hips. 
“I want you to call me your girlfriend,” she says, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I don’t want you to entertain any other person or let them flirt with you or touch our baby. I just want it to be the three of us, always.”
If Harry’s being honest, he would have been content with living in this gray, in-between area with Y/N for the rest of their lives. He was happy — so incredibly happy to be in her life, to sleep next to her every night, to raise a gorgeous baby girl with her. He felt fortunate to be there for every moment, good and bad — but he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been waiting for the day where she told him what was really going on in that pretty head of hers.
He presses a chaste kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says quietly, soft fingertips smoothing over the expanse of her hip, “You’re my girlfriend, okay? Not just Clemmie’s mum. You’re so much more than that.”
She nods her head and Harry smiles gently at how flustered she continues to be — it’s a side of her that he rarely sees, and the sight makes a low chuckle sound from deep in his chest. 
“You’re silly,” he mumbles against the shell of her ear. “Isn’t that what you are? A silly baby desperate to be mine?”
Y/N bristles and swallows harshly, keeping her gaze low in his lap. His smirk only grows as he begins to press slow kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. Her eyes flutter closed. 
“Everyone thinks you’re this pretty, grumpy girl, but I know better than that,” he continues, sliding his hands beneath her tee-shirt to feel her warm skin, “You’re loving and kind. The best mum I’ve ever seen. The best partner and the best girlfriend, too. Isn’t that right, mama?”
She gasps wetly and he feels her thighs threaten to clench, but his hips prevent her from getting any relief. He hums, satisfied with her response and, in a quick movement, pulls her shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her swollen breasts sit prettily on her chest and he tries his best not to groan at the sight. 
“Don’t tease,” she mewls. He chuckles as she grasps at the fabric of his own tee-shirt, the soft material in the tight clutch of her knuckles. 
“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, though he knows the answer is an obvious and resounding yes. They haven’t had actual sex in at least a month, not with Clementine occupying 99% of their time. Even if he’s attempting to play it cool, his cock is hard and throbbing beneath layers of his clothing. He swears he can even feel the warmth of her pussy through her own clothes and it’s taking everything in him not to thrust up and grind against her. 
“Yes,” Y/N pants, shaky fingers digging beneath the waistband of his trousers to pull his length out, “S-stop playing around. You know it’s been too long.”
Harry laughs lowly and lifts his hips up to grant her enough space so she can retrieve his cock. She doesn’t even bother pushing his pants or briefs down, swallowing tightly at the sight of the ruddy tip already leaking with pre-cum. 
“Relax, baby,” he mumbles, grabbing one of her trembling hands and intertwining their fingers together, “Breathe, yeah? I’ll take care of my girl.”
Her pussy clenches at that — my girl — and she nibbles on her bottom lip eagerly when he pushes her soft shorts to the side to reveal her pussy. He wishes he had more willpower to look at what he’s been missing out on and his throat bobs when his eyes flicker down to the puffy clit tucked between her lips. He thinks they’ll both explode if he doesn’t get inside of her in the next two seconds, so he gives his cock a pump before he positions himself beneath her and slowly pushes in. 
Immediately, she whimpers out and he stalls, his free hand pressing rigidly into the skin of her thigh. 
“Y’alright?” 
“Yeah,” she whispers, “Tight fit.”
“I know.” he mutters, glancing up at her to read her expression. “Do you need me to pull out?”
She instantly shakes her head, “No, no. Keep going.”
Harry leans up to seal their lips in a messy, wet kiss as he continues pushing in as slowly as he can. He supposes he should’ve spent more time stretching her out, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Y/N over the past year, it’s that she’s always eager and ever determined to take him, even if it’s been weeks since their last time together.
When he’s finally all the way in, his balls snug against her bum, their kiss slows, though it doesn’t seem like Y/N has any plans to separate their mouths. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if he knows his cock is throbbing from the tightness of her pussy. And then, after what seems like an eternity, she nods.
Slowly, he begins to fuck up inside of her and breathy moans depart from her swollen lips. Harry’s mouth catches each one, punctuating every whimper with a gentle peck. 
“There you go, mama, take my cock. You’re doing so good, aren’t you?”
She only responds with a lilting whimper and he moans, feeling the way her pussy clenches around his length. It’s not the dirtiest sex they’ve had — not by a long shot — but god, if it doesn’t feel incredible knowing that they’re completely devoted to one another.
“You make me feel so good,” she mewls, making his eyes nearly roll back, “I love your cock— ‘s so good, Harry, want— want you to give me another baby.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, squeezing her hips hard, “Can’t just fucking say that stuff, baby. I’ll bust before you even cum.”
“D-don’t care,” she shudders, but he can tell she’s reaching her peak by the way her thighs begin to tremble, each of her muscles tightening. “Cum inside me, m-make me a mommy again.”
His chest vibrates with a deep groan and he reaches between them to pinch at her pearly clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. He’s seconds away from bursting himself, but he refuses to finish before she has a chance to. 
It barely takes a few loops around the bundle of nerves before she’s shaking in his lap, her pussy tensing around his length as she moans out his name over and over again. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he presses his forehead against her sweaty shoulder, shuddering as her orgasm triggers his own. As requested, he pumps his cock deep inside of her as he comes, pushing his seed as far as it’ll go. She whimpers from the sensation as pants fall from her lips, shivering every time he thrusts another rope of cum into her.
They’re both shaking by the time both of their orgasms taper off. Harry wraps his arms around her sweaty form, pulling her chest against his. 
“You’re mine, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You and Clem. We’re a family.”
Y/N nods, echoing his words. “Yours.”
They settle into a comfortable silence; Harry’s softening cock still inside. He’s unsure of how how long they stay there, but he does know that they’ll have to move eventually so he can clean her up. It’s only then that she sits up to look at him, her eyes soft and tired. 
“Harry?”
“Yeah?” 
“Will you get me Plan B tomorrow?” she asks, biting her lip. “I think Clem is… more than enough for me right now.”
He laughs and nods his head. 
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll pick some up for you tomorrow.”
875 notes · View notes
lovelybrooke · 4 months
Text
Third-years reactions to reader wanting to leave
Sorry this took forever, I've been relaxing with my family, but it's here now, so enjoy. Also, tell me if you want a separate post for the staff, I'm willing to do one.
First years---second years.
Trey
Trey figures out you're thinking about leaving when Riddle comes to him in tears. It was the first time since his overblot that he saw him so distraught. He honestly didn't know what to think, since he was too busy trying to comfort his friend. When he finally got time alone, he was truly just confused. Why would you want to leave? He knows you've always wanted to go home, and that you've been working on it for a long time, but does that really mean you have to leave? You have a good life here, friends, people who care about you. Leaving doesn't really seem like the right option. He's not as erratic as some of the others, but he definitely goes through some emotions. Mostly confusion, then anger, then understanding. He gets why you want to leave, this world hasn't been that kind to you. But that doesn't' mean he's just going to except it without at least trying to get you to change your mind.
And that's what he does. He explains how leaving could lead to a lot of problems. What if something bad happens when you attempt to leave, like another overblot or Grim goes nuts. Who will be here to keep all these rowdy boys in line? He tries so hard to convince you it's a stupid decision, without making It sounds like he thinks you're stupid. He's a great manipulator, and doesn't exactly feel bad when he has to do so. You need to stay,
Cater
Cater figures it out from simply watching Trey. It was easily figure out something was up when Trey seemed out of it, messing up recipes and not behaving like his usual composed Trey self. Honestly, he should've figured it out sooner, with the supposed "sickness" his housewarden came down with not too long ago. It didn't take a genius to figure out what everyone was so hung up on. You wanted to leave, what's the big deal. Wasn't that your whole goal the entire time? Why is everyone so surprised.
Cater puts up an uncaring front, acting the same around you. He even supports you on your adventures in the future when you eventually leave. However, behind closed doors, he's an absolute reck. Crying as he scrolls through photo after photo of you, some with the both of you, and some that you definitely weren't away he'd taken. He'd can't believe you want to leave, after everything that's happened you'd just abandon them. Abandon him. His anger quickly melts into determination. He's just not good enough yet, that's it. That's fine, he can fix it, he'll make everything perfect for you. He gets Heartslabyul back into shape, mainly their housewarden, and demands perfection. He'll get everything back to the way it was before, and then you won't even think about leaving.
Leona
Leona learns about your plan from Jack. Like a good first year he tells him right away. Leon honestly doesn't care, not because he wants you to leave, the exact opposite really. He just knows there's no way in hell that you're leaving. You've managed to enamor some of the most powerful people imaginable, and you think you'll just be able to leave? That's funny, but no.
He doesn't understand what Jack and Ruggie are so worked up about. So what if there's some stupid mirror, there's no proof it works. Even if it does work, one of them will just find a way to get you back, no big deal.
He huffs and complains when Ruggie demands he talk to you, believing he can talk some sense into you. He shows up at your dorm with an uncaring expression, talking to you blankly. He tells you that there's no chance you can leave, and you should get it out of your little head. He yawns, and lays his large body on your couch, before threatening to break that mirror if you do forget about it. He falls asleep right after, like he didn't just scar you.
Rook
Rook likes to keep an eye on you, party because Vill asks him too, and party because he wants to. Because of this, he finds out fairly quickly, but waits to do anything about it until he's sure it's true. Then, he tells Vil so that an actual plan can be made. Though, he's never that worried. He has faith that his wonderful housewarden will be able to convince you to remain in this world. Even as Vil and Epel are panicking, he's calm and composed the entire time.
There is a part of him though, a small, small part of him, that wonders what life would be like without you. His mind is blank when he tries to do so, however. You've brought so much beauty into his world, without you it would just be cold and grey. He's reminded of this beauty whenever he watches you, you're so brave and compassionate. He's drawn to you in a way he cannot explain, there are never enough words to do so in one sitting. So, instead, he sends you poem after poem, all in different spots each day. He just wants to remind you that people care about you. Though, as time goes on, and the year gets closer to ending, the poems become more and more sinister and creepy. They're filled with dark reminders of what everyone would do to keep you here, with them. The once sweet and loving lines are replaced to be dark and obsessive.
You wonder what Rook truly feels, if the flowery words you came to enjoy were just a front for the deep and obsessed loved he truly felt.
Knowing him you'd never really know.
Vil
Vil learns from Rook, and he can't believe it. You? Leaving? That can be right? Though, Rook came to him with enough evidence for it to be possible. For a second he considers breaking down right there. If you leave, what would everything he'd done be for? He's worked so hard to become someone you'd love, and you're just going to leave him. He doesn't though, he remains calm and poised, and quickly comes up with a plan with Rook. He knows something must be done about this, especially before others find out.
Whenever Vil is done however, he's a mess. He's in shambles, wondering what he could've done better. Maybe if he was prettier, kinder, smarter, just...more, you wouldn't want to leave. He runs through his mind, wondering what he could do to make you stay. In the end, he decides it's best to talk with you, over the phone however, you can't see him like this. He pleads with you to stay, to reconsider. If you're worried about where to stay during the summer, he's sure his father wouldn't mind you staying with them. Do you not feel happy here? What can he do better, please just tell him so he can fix this, so things can go back to normal, please?
Idia
Idia learns from his brother, who's distraught. Honestly, he should've expected this. He knew this great thing would never last, someone who was kind to him and treated him like a person rather than a bother. He knew you'd get bored and leave. It doesn't make it any less disappointing when you do though. He sits in his room and doesn't leave, which isn't that strange for Idia. What is strange is him being so motivated to keep you here. He hacks into any devices that you have, seeing who you're talking to incase someone convinced you to leave. He also watches you through these devices, making sure you don't actually do anything you might regret.
He almost feels bad, snooping through your stuff like this. Emphasis on almost, however, since this isn't the first time he's done so. It's like he's numb to invading your privacy. He justifies it by believing that he's doing good, he's preventing you from leaving them, from ruining everything everyone has worked for. So what if he's snooping through your phone and reporting back anything suspicious to the others, it's your fault for wanting to leave them so badly. Even with all the mental gymnastics he does, he never once tries to contact you, too afraid of what you might say or do. He doesn't want to loose your friendship, and he can't stand you being mad at him. He's content with watching you from a distance, regardless of how creepy it is.
Lilia
Lilia's known. From the moment the thought was put into your small human head he's known you were planning on leaving. Honestly, he doesn't blame you, the children around this school are anything but subtle. If it wasn't for the lack of resources, you'd would've left this place sooner. But no, you're still here, and you've wormed your way into the hearts of these precious students, and now you have to face the consequences. He doesn't see a point in contacting you or trying to get you to change your mind. He knows that you're serious about it from the befuddled reactions from the students. In fact, he spends most of his time trying to comfort Malleus, since Sebek just had to go and tell him.
"Oh don't worry Malleus, they're not gonna leave." He coons to the poor dragon and he wallows. In truth, he fears for you, for Malleus's reaction. He knows it's only a matter of time before his sadness becomes rage, and at that point Lilia isn't sure he can help.
Lilia doesn't want you to leave. In fact, if you were just a bit smaller he's sure he would've picked you up and never let you go. You're just adorable, thinking you can leave them. And even if you do, there's always a possibility that they'll just find a way to you.
Malleus
In rained the day the news was brought to Malleus from Sebek. Well, rain was really and understatement, it was more like a thunderstorm, rattling all the windows in the school, threatening them to break. It was no secret that the Diasomnia housewarden was enamored with you, he never cared to hide it. So when rain and wind came crashing down, no one spoke a word about it, too afraid of what might happen to them.
Malleus can't possibly wonder why'd you want to leave, they've spoiled you to no end, provided you a home and care, practically worshipped you. He's personally made sure that you were treated the best, because you were the best, at least in his eyes. So what if you were just some magic-less human, you were his magic-less human, and that's all that mattered.
Malleus spends the beginning wallowing in his own pity, too depressed to leave his bed. He's afraid to face you, party because he doesn't know what he'd do when he'd finally see you again. He spends his time being comforted by Lilia, who tries to convince him that you leaving is impossible, which Malleus never believes.
Finally, when the skies clear and people can finally go outside again, do they see Mallues walking the Halls of Night Raven. He's composed, standing tall and regal. When he arrives at your dorm, seeing you for the first time in days, he doesn't belittle you or loose control. Instead, he offers you a smile, before taking your hand as you fall into a deep slumber.
There, he erases any silly little thought about leaving. You'd awake like nothing happened, smiling and happy, ready to see the friends that cared so much about you. You'll never know about the mirror missing from your room, or the chaos you caused because of an offhanded comment made at lunch. All you'll know is you had a silly little dream that felt way, way too real.
---
A/n: I hoped you enjoyed, sorry for taking so long.
2K notes · View notes
gogobootz1 · 5 months
Text
The Mentor
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: As a mentor, you do your best to help your tributes. When one of them turns into a victor, she knows just how to embarrass you in front of people you’d like to impress.
part two | part three
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You whisk through the backstage hallways of the filming center, wet hair whipping as you turn corners. You’re on a mission. Apparently your tribute, now victor, is having a total breakdown.
Your fellow mentor told you he could absolutely handle her post-games interview. Clearly not, though, since your phone wouldn’t stop ringing while you sat at the bottom of your shower. When you finally pulled yourself out of your stupor to answer it, the district ten escort was on the phone begging you to get down here and fix her. You thought she was exaggerating until your stylist came on and told you it was bad. At that point, you threw on the closest clothes you could find and flew out of the apartment.
Darla is a sweet girl, and you’ve grown quite fond of her. You busted your ass getting her sponsors. Every year you try your best, but you thought she had a good chance and she proved you right. Seeing her in the hospital bed, though, you knew she was different. You thought something like this might happen, but you didn’t think it would happen during your shower.
Rushing around another corner, you crash right into another body.
“Sorry!” You try to quickly remove your hands from where you’d steadied yourself, and sidestep this new obstacle.
“What’s the rush?” The obstacle won’t quite let go of you, though. Now interrupted from your task, you look up to recognize the person in your way. Finnick Odair. It couldn’t have been anyone else?
“Emergency,” you quickly dismiss, trying to get by him again. If you look into his eyes you will be thoroughly distracted. You generally try to avoid Finnick at all costs. His intense stare makes you rather nervous.
“Everything ok?” He raises a brow.
“It will be when I get through here,” you start to get antsy. You tend to accidentally default to short and rude with him.
He lets out a scoff of a chuckle, “you’re a tough egg to crack, you know that?”
You’re really not. The Capitol knows you as the gentle victor, who often visits classrooms and reads to children. You guest star on daytime Capitol tv, making some of your favorite recipes in your houses’s enormous kitchen. You’ve designed gardens and parks and are generally well liked here for your friendliness.
“Look,” you huff, “Darla’s in trouble.” This, at least, you know he’ll understand. “Let me through so I can help her.”
“That’s why everything’s been delayed?” He asks. He’s right, too. The time it’s taken you to get dressed, get a car, and get here is all time that Darla should’ve been on air.
“Finnick,” you snap.
He steps aside in an instant, “good luck.”
You breeze past him.
“Mother hen is a good look on you,” you hear from behind you.
“Shut up,” you bark over your shoulder.
Back on track, you quickly find the right door. Whipping it open and rushing in, the entire district ten beauty team turns to look at you. Their eyes are wide and they look quite upset.
“She’s been staring at the wall since before we called you,” the hairstylist whispers, quickly rushing up to you and taking your hand. You instantly tug it away, they are not your priority.
You breeze past them and slowly approach where Darla is sat. She faces away from you, and is curled up in a ball staring at the wall. Quietly, you sit parallel to her and enjoy a similar view of the wall.
“Hey, D,” you say quietly. Taking a slow approach will probably be more effective than trying to force her up. You’re certain the beauty team tried that approach, but quickly got scared.
She’s silent for a bit, “I can’t do this.” Her voice comes as a relief to you.
You hate what you’re about to tell her. You’d really rather whisk her away back to the apartments, but there’s not exactly another option here. “Look at me, honey, yes you can.”
“No, I-“
“Darla, you can.” You try to be firm, but it falls short.
“You don’t under-“
“Now I know you weren’t gonna say I don’t understand. Baby, I might just be the only one who does.”
Darla starts to cry, and suddenly she looks her age. In this moment she’s not a victor. She’s just a sixteen year old who’s been through far more than she should. You move from your spot to embrace her.
“I know, honey. I’ve been here. Sometimes I’m still here. I know. But they don’t- and they can’t.” You say as you hold her close to your heart.
“So what do I do?” You pull away to see her teary face. You rise to your feet and slowly pull her with you.
“We’re gonna clean you up, and send you out there good as new,” you say, trying to imbue some confidence in her.
Darla’s eyes widen in fear.
“Relax, honey, we’ve got time,” you wipe her teary cheeks. You wave the makeup artist over, as you sit Darla in a chair. “Now in the meantime,” you start, pouring a glass of water and forcing it into Darla’s hand, “I’m gonna tell you a story. How’s that sound?”
Darla nods reluctantly, taking in ice water through the straw. You sit on the glass coffee table in front of the girl as the makeup artist gets to work.
“Now this happened a looooong time ago- back when I was ten. It was a bright summer’s day on the ranch, and I was up nice and early when my Paw came up and told me he’d lost his wedding ring. Now, my Nana was an insightful gal- if she had noticed (and believe me she would’ve) she’d have pitched a fit.
So I was enlisted to help him find it. Well, we searched everywhere. All around the house, the garage- no luck. Finally, we headed out to the pasture. We were digging through manure, when suddenly my foot sank into a pothole and I went flying toward the ground. I landed face first in an enormous pile of shit. But that’s not the worst of it- ohhh no.
When I pushed myself off the ground, I saw my nana had come home. She’d brought four of her friends and all of their grandkids. That included little Jimmy Price, who I happened to be enamored with. (Not that I ever spoke to him since I was so shy.) And in that moment, my Paw, back turned to the whole thing, held up his ring and shouted ‘found it!’ Only to turn and find me covered in cow poop and his wife watching with all her friends.”
Darla smiles a bit at your misfortune, “so he found the ring in the poop?”
“Oh no,” you shake your head, “it was in his pocket all along.” Darla cackles this, nearly messing up the eyeliner her makeup artist tries to fix from her earlier tears.
“So what was the lesson in this fable?” Darla asks teasingly.
“Oh none,” you reply innocently, but a smirk grows on your face, “but at least you’re not heading out there covered in cow shit.” Darla grins and shakes her head, feeling up to the task now. The makeup artist nods at you and dashes from the room.
“Now honey,” you start, pulling Darla up from her chair, “you just blame your tardiness on me. Tell Caesar I was fawning all over you like a mother hen.” At least something useful came out of your run in with the Capitol’s darling.
Darla smiles a little, nodding. “And remember, just be your charming self- everyone here adores you,” you remind her. She seems a lot better now.
“Oh hey, where were you earlier?” Darla asks, about to head out the door.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” You tell her, smile dimming.
“Now you really sound like my mother,” Darla quips back, and you grin again.
With that, a stagehand pulls Darla away to where Caesar’s been waiting. There’s not much else you can do for the girl now. Out of your hands and into the Capitol’s. You can only hope Darla won’t freeze feeling all their eyes upon her.
You shouldn’t have been worried, though. Darla nails her post-games interview. The audience finds it adorable when the girl says she took so long because her mentor was fussing over her hair and her dress.
“You wouldn’t think it- but she’s a real mother hen.” Darla says, and you smile as you watch from backstage. The audience erupts into a gleeful sort of laughter at the comment.
Caesar knows just what to do with it, too, “well it’s no wonder, I’m sure you’ve made her proud!” Darla beams, and very convincingly so. “Let’s take a look back at Darla’s games!”
To your great relief, Darla holds it together through the recap. The girl gets boisterous applause as the leaves the stage, then comes flying into your arms once she’s out of sight. The force of it makes you stumble, but you quickly plant your feet and return the hug.
“You did great, kiddo,” you tell your tribute.
“Thanks!” Darla replies, speaking loudly from the adrenaline rush, “and thanks for telling me about when you face planted in a pile of cow poop back home, it really helped!”
Every single person milling around backstage turns to look at you when Darla says it. Not that the girl notices the extra eyes.
You drop your chin, trying to avoid the stares of these people. This is what you get for comforting her at your own expense. Taking a calming breath, you look up only to meet a pair of sea-green eyes.
Of course Finnick Odair heard that, and of course he’s smirking teasingly at you.
Like Jimmy Price all over again.
You stick your tongue out at him.
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I did not edit this so I hope it’s ok lmao. The new hunger games movie was great so ofc finnick’s been on the brain
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waitingonher · 4 months
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ELECTRIC TOUCH — [jason grace dating headcanons]
author's note: i need 2024 to be THE year. 2023 did me soooo dirty. im praying
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dating JASON GRACE would be like dating someone from a regency era romance novel…he’s just SUCH a hopeless romantic but he would rather die than admit it.
in the initial first few weeks of dating, jason was sosososooooo shy about pda/physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, he LOVES physical touch, but he had just gone so long without it that he wasn’t used to it. but eventually, he warms up to it…and now he can’t go without having at least one part of him touching you 😭 
when it came to things like hugs, kisses, handholding, etc. jason would always wait for you to initiate it because he was so anxious about making you uncomfortable ?? fjsldfjs 
but when you communicated that he didn’t need to ask/wait for you all the time, jason started initiating things more. even still, he occasionally gets nervous to even hold your hand? like wdym you’ve been dating for over six months and you still get nervous doing simple couple things 😭 it’s very endearing though 
chivalry is NOT dead,, and it’s because of jason LMAO. he’s the type to swap shoes with you even though you’re wearing heels that are 3x too small for him, but hey, at least your feet don’t hurt anymore!
jason’s also hellbent on carrying things for you, opening doors for you, pulling out/pushing in chairs for you, etc… GOD HE’S SO CUTE. 
since dating him, you don’t think you’ve ever touched a single door or car handle when he’s with you. 
jason is NOT afraid to advocate or stand up for you, especially if you’re more on the quiet & non-confrontational side. if you’re in a group setting and someone interrupts you, he’s making sure you get your chance to say what you wanted to say. and he doesn’t do it in a way that leaves you embarrassed, he’s very very classy with it! 
if you’re a big music person, jason will literally learn your favorite artist’s entire discography so you guys have another thing to talk about. 
you guys also have a shared playlist of “your songs” and he’s so serious about it 😭 if jason hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he’s going to the ends of the earth to figure out what it’s called. 
rip to anyone around him if shazam doesn’t work! he’s gonna send voice messages to your big group chat humming the tune, but he’s so tone deaf that no one knows the song…and his search history is just variations of “song that goes du du ooh du ooh du du ooh” a for effort though babes…
jason’s love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time. over the years and throughout the many battles he’s fought, he’s come to realize that all he wants to do when he comes home is just spend time with his loved ones. 
after a busy day, you’ll come home to find your laundry folded, bed sheets washed & freshly made, along with a sweet little note from jason <3 
your guys’ thing are writing notes to each other. considering his and your busy schedule, you’ll write and leave tiny notes around the house for each other to find. it’s one of the many reasons why jason gets up in the morning. 
he loves coming home to you after a long day to simply melt in your arms. there’s just something so soothing about cuddling with you after a busy day. 
it does not matter where you are, you guys could literally be cleaning the camp toilets and he’d still be able to find the fun in it. you’re his home, and he’d follow you wherever you go. 
if you play sports, you already know he’s showing up to ALL your games. it doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if it’s hours away, he’s absolutely determined to show his support. jason even makes posters with your jersey number and when you have big tournaments he’ll show up with posters of your face 😭 the refs are SO tired of jason help
i feel like if he really tried, jason would be a good cook. 
one day you sent him a recipe you saw online saying you wanted to make it with him, but then he decided to make it himself to surprise you. and it was actually so good??? 
JASON IN A “KISS THE COOK” APRON OMFG. that’s what you got him for his birthday and every single time without fail, he’ll wear it when he’s cooking. 
one of his hidden talents is that he’s super good at origami. he originally picked it up because he heard it was a good stress reliever, but now he also does it for you <3 
he loves your reaction when he gives you little paper rings or an origami version of your favorite animal! 
this guy DREAMS of domesticity. he’s always been the type to date to marry, and that’s just what he intends to do with you! even though you guys are still young, he’s been planning your proposal sfjfls
tell me why he already knows what kind of ring he wants to get you… omg. 
he really wants to just settle down with you in new rome. but honestly, he’s willing to do anything as long as you’re at his side. 
expect flowers from jason at least once a month! he even keeps one flower so he knows when it’s time to get you a new bouquet. and if he’s away, he’ll get one of his friends to deliver it! 
i have this headcanon that the aphrodite cabin teams up with the hephaestus cabin to throw a really elaborate party, essentially like prom. anyways, jason would go all out for your promposal jfdsls i feel like he would either do a super funny poster/proposal like y’know that one guy who did that medieval promposal 😭 yeah well jason would do something like that but like...more roman... LMFAO him pulling up to your place in a chariot 
or he would do something super super intricate and planned out…like a fancy picnic and then he’d have the fauns arrange fireflies to spell out “prom?” when it’s dark out. 
ugh! jason grace the man that you are… <3 best bf ever,, i can confirm btw
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incorrectbatfam · 6 months
Note
Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)
Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?
Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.
Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?
Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.
Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?
Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.
Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.
Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.
Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?
Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.
Bruce: Cass?
Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.
Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.
Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.
Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.
Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.
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oxenfreeao3 · 3 months
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I need Caitlyn “if I cannot become ungovernable I will become the government” Kiramman to have a full-on Machiavellian anti-hero arc so that The General Public finally takes her seriously.
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Analysis:
I've mentioned it before, but Caitlyn's character embodies nearly all the traits of a Machiavellian with high cognitive empathy.
Firstly and most obviously, she manipulates systems and people to accomplish her goals. Vi would still be in Stillwater and much of Act II and III would not have happened if Caitlyn weren't willing to cleverly and unscrupulously lie and forge her way to success.
We can argue she's not a very good liar. I argue that doesn't really matter. One, her lies work. Two, she is clearly ready and willing to deceive so long as she thinks it's for a good reason. The inclination is what matters. I think the important question to ask is, "What is this character willing do to?"
Secondly, she's huge on agency. It's one of the main features of her character. She demonstrates (from the five-factor model): achievement-striving, assertiveness, self-confidence, emotional invulnerability, activity, and competence.
Regarding emotional invulnerability. I want to touch on this because I think it's missed. Caitlyn is an extremely guarded character. She reveals almost no personal information about herself, even to Vi. During high-stress situations, she flinches from her own vulnerability, tries to play it off, or compartmentalizes heavily.
Vi is the bleeding heart, the open book, the one who can't guard worth a damn (it's not even subtext, other characters say this to her face and I believe it has a dual meaning).
Meanwhile, Caitlyn waits until Vi is vulnerable with her and shows her respect before even giving Vi her name. (I have more to say about the "Cupcake" scene but that's for another time).
Other aspects of a Machiavellian character include:
Cynicism, selfishness, callousness, arrogance, deliberation and orderliness.
I argue that Caitlyn's character hints at the first one, gets away with the next three because she's "sweet," and blatantly embodies the last two.
Caitlyn in S1 is a sharp edge sheathed in kindness. We like what she's currently doing and think she's a Good Person because her trajectory aligns with our own sense of right and wrong. But Caitlyn is doing what she wants. What she thinks is right. Again, it's not subtext.
Marcus: "She does whatever she wants, I can't control her!"
And in S2, I think the same behaviors we currently love in her could easily be used to spin her down a corruption arc that leaves us a bit aghast -- but shouldn't leave us surprised.
I argue such an arc would be squarely in character.
Paraphrasing from the AMA:
"Everyone is a little bit opposite of who they are in Season One."
What will that mean for Caitlyn?
I don't know, but the recipe for a very interesting time is written all over her character.
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lushaletta · 23 days
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the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad
summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?
a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.
Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.
There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.
It makes him sick to his stomach.
He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.
His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.
The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.
“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.
“Hello,” he says after a beat.
You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?
You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”
It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.
It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.
“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.
“Yes?”
“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”
He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”
He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.
“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.
Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.
A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.
What an evil, evil wolf he was.
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feyascorner · 4 months
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Food is not something he's indulged in since he was turned.
He must've enjoyed it once, as every other undead being he's surrounded by. But when he lifts a wine glass to his lips or sips at a broth, all he can do is scrunch his nose, disgusted by the way it tastes. The only thing that satiates him now is blood. He's gotten used to it by now.
So why in the hells he'd thought he could make you soup to soothe your aching throat, he has no idea.
Surely, it can't be terribly difficult? Just a few vegetables, broth, and a pretty bowl to put it in. It would make you feel better if you didn't have to get up and cook for yourself, and he'd get to sit by your side, teasing the way you seem to sneeze every few minutes.
Unfortunately, he's finding that he was horribly wrong.
"You can't feed them this!" Gale exclaims with a groan. "It really is a simple recipe, surely you can make this much."
Astarion glares at him, then back down at the pot of soup sitting pathetically on the stove. He sees Gale testing it one more time with a spoon and shuddering, flinching at the taste. He would taste it himself if it weren't for the fact that it would taste terrible regardless of the culinary quality, but alas, all he can do is narrow his eyes at the deceiving concoction in the pot.
The wizard sets down his testing spoon and sighs. "Look, we can try again tomorrow. We should really feed them soon, anyway."
Astarion frowns. He's killed people and defeated dozens of monsters, and he's brought down by this? A bloody soup? All while getting scolded by Gale, of all people?
He hasn't even tried the soup, but he feels a bit sick.
"Oh, did you guys already cook?"
His ears perk at the sound of your voice, and you pace into the kitchen, wrapped in one of his many blankets. His chest swells at this, but hells if he'd ever show that on his face. "You should be resting, darling."
"I will. I'm just hungry," you sniffle, reaching for the pot of soup. And before Gale can stop you, you're already pouring yourself a serving, and you slowly lift the bowl to your lips, taking a long sip while the said wizard gawks.
Astarion's eyes never leave your expression as you bring the half-empty bowl down to the counter, swiping at the excess in your mouth. You seem in thought, raising a brow before turning to Gale. "Are you experimenting with recipes?"
"It's certainly not one of my makings!" he recoils, almost offended. "I'm afraid I have to give this honor to my friend, here."
Astarion rolls his eyes, readying himself for your criticism of his cooking. He knows you wouldn't be as inelegant as Gale when speaking your concerns about the damned soup, but he thinks it might have more of an impact on him anyway, simply because it's you.
Getting his feelings hurt over a bowl of soup would certainly be a new low for him.
You stare at him for a moment in a painful silence before lifting the rest of the bowl to down the rest. Even Astarion blinks this time, watching in utter disbelief as you drink the soup like the finest wine in Faerun.
And when you set the bowl down, you shrug. "It's good."
Gale's jaw drops, but all Astarion does is stare at you with wide eyes. You yawn, trudging back to your room without another word, his blanket trailing behind your heels. He only snaps out of his trance when he hears Gale sigh obnoxiously loud at his side.
"It's your lucky day. It seems the sickness has rendered her tastebuds malfunctioning."
Despite the embarrassing way, he feels the tips of his pointed ears flush, Astarion cracks a triumphant smile.
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
Text
Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Seventeen - The Third Date
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
2.1K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
warnings: smut, p in v, hickies, blowjob
Series Masterlist
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The third date. That was meant to be the big one, right? The one where... it happened? She had no reason to be nervous. It was Daniel, a man she knew incredibly well, a man she was pretty sure she was in love with.
With Milo eating his dinner, Y/N went to the neighbours door and knocked.
The neighbours Seventeen year old daughter pulled open the door. "Hey Miss L/N," she said. "Do you want me to get my mum?"
"Actually, Mol, I'm here to see you. Would you fancy babysitting Milo tonight? I can pay and I've got pizza money for you," she said.
"I'd love to," Mollie answered. "Let me just check with my mom."
The door shut in Y/Ns face and she waited patiently for Mollie to get back to her with an answer. If she couldn't get a babysitter for Milo she'd just have to reschedule with Daniel. Daniel wouldn't mind. He might even suggest to bring Milo along.
The door opened again and Mollie nodded her head. "She said its fine, Miss L/N. What time do you want me there?" She asked.
At 7PM, Y/N was ready to go. She was dressed to the nines, wearing her favourite dress, her favourite shoes and her favourite jewellery. Milo had told her all about his new favourite dinosaur as she did her hair and makeup.
At 7PM, Mollie the neighbour came over to begin babysitting and Y/N left. She kissed Milos head as she said goodbye and walked out of the front door, driving her way to Daniels house.
She didn't know what he had in store for their third date. Neither did Daniel until a couple of days ago. All he knew was that be wanted it to be special. Just them, not surrounded by loads and loads of people.
For days he had been attempting to cook and forcing his friends to try it. Day by day he got slightly better, but he was still nervous about the date to come.
He had started cooking as Y/N drove. He had done his preparation fir the meal during the day. All that was left to do now was cook it.
Just like she was, Daniel was dressed at his best. It felt incredibly strange to be dressed in a suit for a dinner in his own house. The candles were set out on the table, along with his best wine and best cutlery. This night was going to be perfect.
The doorbell rang and Daniel felt his anxiety spike. It didn't need to, it was Y/N, the person he was expecting.
When the door opened, his breath caught his his throat. He knew she was beautiful, knew she was incredibly beautiful, but this was something else. "Holy shit," he breathed as he welcomed her into the house.
Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away the imprint of her lipstick was still there and she went to wipe it away, bur Daniel stopped her. He'd wear it with pride for the entire night.
"Milo is with a babysitter, so you've got me for the entire night," she said as Daniel led her into his kitchen.
He lit the candles and poured her some wine. The night started out as easy, light conversation. They sipped the wine slowly as they talked, and the conversation turned to heavier topics, the kinds of things they found themselves talking about late at night where she couldn't sleep and Daniel was in another country.
He tried with the dinner, he really did. But she had to step in. The recipe was open on the counter top and she cooked away.
"I'm sorry," Daniel said as he wrapped her arms around her hips. "I'm so useless."
"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she moved the food around in the pan, ensuring it cooked evenly. "It's a good thing I enjoy cooking, huh?"
She plated the food up and they sat at the table, talking their way through dinner.
"This is the third date," said Danny between bites of the food. That was delicious, but it didn't surprise him. "And, since it's the third date I was wondering if... you'd..."
It was so difficult to get the words out of his mouth. And she didn't want to assume that he wanted to take things to the next level.
Daniel groaned and finished off his glass of wine. That was all if the courage he needed. "Be my girl," he said. "I want to love you properly."
The dinner was abandoned. The moved around the table to get to each other. As soon as they were together she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed hers on her hips, holding her flush against him.
"Yes, Danny. Oh My God, yes."
He pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her hands Oundle his hair, moving through it, tugging at the strands.
Daniel couldn't stop the groan that left his lips. His body was fully pressed against hers, pressing her against the table. "Fuck," he groaned, his grip growing tighter. He ever so slightly hiked up the skirts of her dress.
"Take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips.
Daniel picked her up. He took her into his arms and carried her through his house. It was incredibly romantic, the way he held her so tight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he carried her up the stairs. This must be how wonderful brides felt on their wedding days.
Daniel took her into her bedroom and laid her down onto the bed. As soon as he could he resumed kissing her, his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress. They'd kissed before, sure, but they didn't usually allow this for themselves, didn't allow for this much intimacy.
But they couldn't stay away from each other. Daniel wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. It was a good thing she wanted him too.
Her skirts bunched up around her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. Daniel couldn't help himself; he rutted against her. She whined, her hands finding his hair, tugging slightly. He couldn't stop the groan leaving his lips.
"I need you," she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Daniel obliged, unzipping her dress. He pushed it off of her shoulders, goose bumps following where he touched. "Danny," she whispered.
He slowly pulled her dress all of the way off until she was in nothing but lingerie beneath him. She'd taken her time choosing it out. It was her best pair, the only pair truly sexy. It was plain, with thin straps around her shoulders and her hips. A small bow sat in the centre of each piece of underwear, and the border was scalloped.
Daniel let out a low whistle. He wanted this image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. She looked so pretty laid out in front of him, laid out for him. He let his hand trail down her sides and she shivered.
He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, letting his clothes fall next to her dress. As soon as he was in nothing but his boxers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.
Daniel held her tight. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she was sat on him, hips moving on top of his. His eyes were shut as he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck," he hissed and she leaned down to kiss him again.
But the kiss didn't last very long. Soon Daniel was kissing down her neck. He didn't leave a hickey, not until he got to her chest. A series of moans left her lips as he kissed her chest, paying attention to what wasn't covered by her bra. "Danny," she moaned as he reached behind and unclasped the bra.
It fell away from her chest and Daniel threw it to the side. Immediately he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh, marking her as his. Her head was thrown back and she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against him.
But suddenly she pulled away from him. He climbed off of him and Daniel tried to follow, but she pushed him back down, keeping him laying on the bed. She shuffled down to the bed until she was between his legs and pulling at his boxers, freeing his cock.
She wrapped her fingers around his already hard length and pumped. Once, twice, before she wrapped her lips around his tip. "Holy shit," Daniel cried out, accidentally bucking his hips towards her.
He escaped from her mouth but she quickly wrapped her lips around him once again. She ran her tongue along the veiny underside and moved her lips down his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed and she closed her eyes, concentrating all of her efforts into bringing him close to the edge.
Only close. He wasn't going to cum until he'd had his turn with her. But that wasn't her decision. Daniel pulled her off of him and pulled her up. He rolled her over once again, trapping her beneath him. He kissed her, his fingers hooking around the strappy waistband of her panties.
He pulled her panties off and dropped them onto the floor. Daniel pushed his fingers gently through her folds, feeling just how wet she was. He couldn't wait to be inside of her.
And he didn't have to wait. He rolled a condom on, pushed himself inside of her and she let out a gasp, gripping onto his shoulders. "Fuck, Danny," she whispered, throwing her head back. "Holy fucking fuck."
Daniel grunted. Nothing in the world could come close to this feeling. Slowly he began moving, pulling his hips back every so slightly and pushing back in. He kept his pace even, giving her time to adjust to his length.
But Daniel sped up. She moaned and whined, crying out his name beneath him as he fucked her.
She didn't last very long. Maybe it was all of the anticipation, maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been fucked like this since before Milo was born.
Daniel fucked her through her orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, kissing her slowly, tenderly. "So good f'me."
He pace slowed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he brought himself closer and closer to his orgasm. "Shit," he grunted, his hips stilling against her as he came, spilling into the condom.
"Fuck," she whispered as he pulled out of her.
Daniel got rid of the condom and climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her head and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you still happy to be mine?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.
"Are you kidding me?" She said as she touched his tattoo. It hadn't escaped Daniel just how much she loved his tattoos, loved tracing them. "I don't think happy is the right word. I'd go for something like... really happy."
"Really happy then," Daniel said and kissed her again.
They laid like that for just a few minutes, enjoying each others company. "What do we tell the kids?" She asked as she reached for her phone.
"The truth," Daniel answered as she turned the phone on and checked the time.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She jumped out of bed and quickly got herself dressed. "Fuck, I've got to get back to Milo and the sitter."
Daniel did the same. He jumped out of bed and got back into his trousers and shirt. But he left off the tie and didn't button his shirt all of the way. They'd just gotten done boning, but fuck she wanted him again. But there was no time, she needed to get back to Milo.
"Let me come with you," Daniel said, unlocking his phone to call her a cab.
Y/N stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards Daniel, undeniable smile one of face. "You seriously want to come with me?"
"Of course I do, you're my girlfriend."
Girlfriend. She loved the sound of that.
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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months
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Could you maybe write something with Kimi Räikkönen where his wife is all sunshine and shy and tries to hide an injury from him and he finds out and then takes care of her? Could either be with Mafia! Kimi or F1! be Kimi.
A/n: Mafia Kimi? Sign me up
it was stupid really and you knew that when you did it. Kimi has always told you to be careful when handling the knives. And you should've listened but you didn't.
Wanting to make some new recipe that called for lemons, Kimi liked your sour treats more than anything, so making this shouldn't be too hard.
""Oh, Mrs. Räikkönen," You look up from reading the recipe to see one of your husbands most trusted men. "Val, hello." You smile softly, still shy around all the people. Even though you've lived there for years now. "You should let me cut the lemons," Valtteri moves to your side and reaches for the knife.
"No, no, please," He stops his movements seeing the way you curl in on yourself. "Okay, I'm sorry." Valtteri backs off but still wants to help some how. "If you want, you can make the batter." Val smiles and goes over as you start to cut up the lemons again.
Never should you have looked away from the knife, but you just wanted to make sure that he wasn't having issues. Pulling the knife back you freeze, feeling something warm but also stinging.
"Ow," Valtteri turns quick, and feels himself grow antsy. "Shit, Mrs. Räikkönen," You whimper as he presses a hand towel tight against the wound. "Lumihiutale? I'm home." You and Valtteri trade looks and he quickly backs off and you hiding your bleeding hand.
"In," You squeak and clear your throat quickly. "In here," Kimi walks in, his face stone until he sees you. "Hello, snowflake." Kimi heading to you and kisses you softly, pulling back. "What are you making?" Valtteri moves slowly behind Kimi, reaching for the bloody knife. "Lemon bundt cakes," Kimi groans, mouth watering at your baking.
"That's good," Kimi turns and freezes seeing the bloody knife and Valtteri's hand on the handle. The two men stare at one another, and you whimper. "Val," The other man swallows thickly, trying to find the words. "What, is that?" "Nothing," "I cut my hand," You and Valtteri speak at the same time, which has Kimi huff.
"You, out." Valtteri doesn't think twice and bolts out as Kimi levels you with an icy glare. His eyes soften when he sees the blood on the towel, dropping his head. "Come here," Kimi moves quick and sits you on the counter.
Moving around the kitchen he finds what he's looking for and smiles. Coming back he stands between your legs, pulling out a cotton ball and some antiseptic. "Why did you try to hide this from me?" You try to find the words but can't using your other hand to trace the pattern of his tattoos.
"Snowflake? Please, answer me." He begs, wanting to understand. "I just, didn't want to worry you." Kimi sighs, and holding your hand firmly so you don't flinch back. "You always worry me, don't hide when you're hurt. When you're hurt, so am I." Kimi places a soft kiss on your bandages.
"Now, let's finish these lemon cakes."
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